TMI and My Mind is Blown

Raise your hand if you didn't get your period until you were 16. 

Yes, in fact, I was 192 months old (16) when 
I got my mine

Funny side story: We were visiting the ruins in Olympia, Greece when mine started. I think this means something, but I'm not sure what. Maybe that I am meant to go to the Olympics. Or, maybe I was just trying to get out of seeing one more Greek temple. 

(Also, why do they call it a period? Well, I just googled it and OMG! Now I know the Greek-connection. "Period is rooted in the Greek words "peri" and "holdos" meaning "around" and "way/path." This eventually turned into the Latin "periodus" meaning "recurring cycle." My mind is blown.)

I've always been somewhat of a late bloomer. Rumor has it (according to my mom) that I was difficult and late in my potty training because I had trouble pooping and sometimes just flat out refused to go. This is highly ironic if you have read this blog for any period of time. There have been many runs and races where I wish I had trouble pooping because that would have saved me lots of time in porta potties, bushes and tunnels (yes, a tunnel. A story for another day).  In other late blooming news,  I didn't lose my virginity until the age of 28 (I kid. I'm not going to tell you the real age I was, but it was probably later than most). Finally, I am still waiting to sprout breasts. Proud IBTC member here.

You know what else I was late at? Running. I didn't start running until I was 41 years old. Like most things in my life, I came to it by chance. You see, I'm not the best at going after things. I tend to wait around until something comes to me (I'm not saying this is the way to live life, but it's my pattern). So, one day I got a post card in the mail from Team in Training (Leukemia and Lymphoma Society) inviting to me to raise money and exchange they would train me to run a marathon. Why not? I ran my first 26.2 in Phoenix on January 18, 2009 in a time of 4:03. It was right after that I wrote my first ever blog post, which totally cracks me up to look at because I had no pictures of me running or the finish. Just a photo of my ugly, bruised toenail.

Is that a penis shaped popsicle?

Funny side story: I was so new to running that I had no clue how to carry things. I safety-pinned 6 gels on my singlet and shorts. I am still wondering how the hell I ran and unpinned 6 gels. What a dork.

Since that day the post came 15 years ago, I cannot stop running. I'm no Forrest Gump, but it's got a hold on me now and all I do is look for that next race or opportunity. God help me if my knees give out like Aunt Ethel says they will, or my uterus falls out like they warned Katherine Switzer (first woman to officially run Boston) that hers would. 

So, what is my point? You guessed it: It's never too late to start. Just because you haven't done something for the first 40, 50, 60 years of your life doesn't mean you can't start now. Maybe you used to run but it's been 20 years since you last tried and you think those days are behind you. Give it a try. Take a chance at that thing that scares you enough to take your breath away. Let's hear it for late bloomers!

When did you start running?

Are you a late bloomer in anything? 

Got a good period story?

SUAR

Are You A High Maintenance Runner?

It was snowing like a mother this weekend, so I did what any respectable lazy ass would do and scrolled social media. A college friend had posted something on Facebook to score "How High Maintenance Are You?." Naturally, I took the bait because I've  done all the Buzz Feed quizzes and I already know what kind of cheese I am (sharp cheddar). 

The friend who posted this said she scored 93. I scored 12. This score made me insecure. Do I not take care of myself enough? Do I smell? Why do they spell "allot" that way and have I been spelling it wrong my whole life? (BTW, I own 20+ pairs of shoes, highlight my hair and wear ((shitty, grocery store)) make up everyday).

25 scarves?

This got me to thinking. Maybe it's just that I'm low maintenance when it comes to body hair and heels (aren't they just for strippers?). Perhaps my special gift is being high maintenance in other areas! So, I created this. Now we are speaking my language.

Total Possible: 58

0-4: You are so low maintenance you basically are dead. But, good for you. You love running just for the bare bones of it.

4-20: You are semi high maintenance, but over all, quite sensible. You keep your costs low and focus on the act of running itself.

20-40: You are bordering on being very high maintenance and likely annoying to those around you, lol.

42-57: Definitely high maintenance. How do you live with yourself? 

58: You are insufferable and should re-evaluate all life choices. Maybe you should take up Pickleball. 

My score? 20 (wear make up to races, have recovery shoes that cost a lot ((allot)), have 10+ pairs of running shoes, sometimes blame outside circumstances for shitty performances).

By the way, none of this is judgey just meant for fun, so don't come at me!

Give me your scores! General high maintenance (first chart), runner high maintenance second chart. I'm 12/18. 

That was fun!

SUAR

I "Ran" a 50 Miler and Now I'm Unemployed

Hey, I've missed you.

I suppose it's very possible to have an existential crisis at the age of 56. Not that I would know anything about that. I mean - I just lost my job, my husband got laid off, my kids have flown the nest, I have been dizzy for the past seven months and I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

Why am I like this? Maybe this is why I don't have a job?

On another note: remember when our kids were young and someone would ask how old they were and we would give their age in months? I'm going to start doing that now. I am officially 682 months old. Never mind. That's sounds awful. My existential crisis (EC) just got worse. 

Back to the EC. There is nothing like job searching to really emphasize all of the things you are not good at and all of the jobs you would hate. Like, who wants to be a dog food canner? And who is qualified to work at all the cool places like Google where they have personal baristas and toilets with seat warming and anal hygiene? (that's a rumor. I have no idea what toilets at Google are like but I want to find out).

I knew my job was ending. I was an independent contractor for the past 8 years and my employer was getting rid of contracts September 30. I knew this. Yet, it hit me really hard when it actually happened. I didn't realize how much my job anchored me and made me feel like I was good at something and that I had purpose each day. Even on the days I didn't like my work, and they were frequent, I still felt a sense of productivity and satisfaction. Yes, some of that was tied to making money and some of it was just knowing I had done the best job I could that day.

So, here we are. Early on (and it's only been less than three weeks) I knew I needed structure to my days. I committed to:

1. Job search for 2-3 hours day/apply to one new job a day

2. Run (or get off my ass one way or another)

3. Do something nice for someone. This could be as small as letting someone in during traffic or as big as doing CPR to the beat of "Stayin' Alive" and savings someone's life. Trust me, it's all been small stuff so far and my CPR has expired so there's that.

The only thing that has really boosted my spirits these days is running. When I run, I get perspective and feel I can conquer the world. I breathe in the fall air and everything feels okay somehow.  You know what I mean. I know you do.

There is no easy solution to dealing with life's unknowns and timelines. It's a quick and unconscious deep dive into pessimism sometimes. But, I try to reframe things, remembering the words of Mel Robbins, "What if it all works out?" instead of, "What if I end up canning dog food and never get to experience a Japanese toilet?" 

But, guess what? I ran a 50 mile trail race in September (Run Rabbit Run in Steamboat, CO). My first one (and probably my last). I was severely undertrained due to my VN condition (dizzy, foggy, unbalanced) but I figured I would go for it anyway. If I had my first DNF, so be it. I fell hard at mile 11, but pressed on even though I thought I might have broken my hand (see grotesque image below). The first half of the race was phenomenal and I felt great, then the last half was a slog to the finish as I got more fatigued and feared falling. I also had to poop and felt a major blister on my toe explode. Why is running so glamourous? Have you ever almost crawled across a finish line? Well, it wasn't that bad, but I was in a pretty pathetic state. And, you know what? I was stubborn and determined and I did it. At 681 months old, I did it.

Trying to haul ass up Rabbit Ears Peak. Some guy at the top (not
with the race) took my picture because he thought it was a cool shot.
As I went by I yelled out my cell number and told him to send it to me
and he did!!

The hand the day after. It looks like my hand is dressing up for 
Halloween. 2 x-rays later, not broken. But still hurts, actually.

That finish line feeling. Sheesh the volunteer waiting for me was just happy
to finally be able to go to bed.

And, now. I look around at all of you employed bastards smiling like you love your jobs. Just like I look at people running when I am injured and can't run. It's jealousy mixed with longing or something like that. The reality is I know not everyone loves their jobs, not everyone has a job. Maybe we place way too much emphasis on our work and not enough on all of the other things that make for a balanced life like hobbies and Golden Retrievers and wine and running and Netflix and travel. Oh, did I tell you we went to Spain and Greece in August? I like the traveling version of myself a lot. She is relaxed and tan and drinks Ouzo at lunch. .

Bike tour in Barcelona sponsored by Old Navy skirt and very heavy bike

Roof top sunsets in Barcelona. Same skirt I wore on my honeymoon. 

Maybe I will get lucky tonight

The island of Naxos in Greece. Still wearing the skirt. My eyes say
I have had a few of those small glasses of wine.

Ouzo FTW. If you go to Naxos you must visit Giannoulis Taverna
where the food is incroyable and the living is good.

Some village in Naxos where shirts were not required and they served
Rooster stew

Hmmm...the conclusion is a probably just don't want to work and would prefer to travel and drink wine and be with friends. I think my new job is meant to be - RETIRED. Welp, too soon for that unfortunately.

Enough of my ranting and complaining. Tell me about you.

- How many months old are you?

-Ever DNF'd a race? Nope, not yet, but I'm sure it's in my future

-Did you travel this summer, if so, where? We went to Greece, Spain, Las Vegas, San Diego and Michigan for a Ragnar Relay.

-Ever been laid off? Yes

-Did you make a career shift in your later life? Not yet. Please tell me what to do. 

Love, 

SUAR

PS: I might be on here more often. Clearly I've got time to kill

PPS: Do you want to hire me? Kidding. Not kidding.

My New Nickname and Finally, a Diagnosis

In the news of the weird I'm still over here being dizzy, heavy headed and foggy. I am operating at about 50% of my normal cool self. I'm still not driving, but have managed a couple disoriented runs. Yes, call me crazy for trying to run when I feel like I've just had 5 glasses of chardonnay. I just choose a wide dirt path with few people and no huge obstacles like bolders, sink holes or tiny children.

It's been almost eight weeks. Well, 46 days to be exact. When this type of shit strikes you, you don't forget the date of onset (March 16) and you don't stop counting the days. It's been a long road to answers, but I think I've found mine. If you don't know what I'm talking about read HERE first.

Unfortunately with medical stuff, epecially out of the ordinary symptoms, it's a freaking wild goose chase to get answers. It's all about ruling things out more so than getting an actually diagnosis. After two visits to the regular doctor, a hearing test and three visits to the ENT, I was finally sent for a test called a VNG (it has nothing to do with a vagina - that would be weird, just like CLT ((the code for the Charlotte airport)) has nothing to do with ....you figure it out). 

VNG stands for videonystagmography, which is one of the most bizarre tests you will ever have - so bizarre that when I was done the audiologist thanked me for not throwing up. Basically, you wear goggles (think VR) that have cameras in them to track your eye movement. This shows up on a computer screen. Then the audiologist has you watch images on a wall, and puts you in differnt positions. Then the fun part comes where cold and warm air is blown into each ear to see what your eyes do when that happens. This elicits crazy eye movements and dizziness, where you feel like you have the spins after a long night in Vegas. 

The outcome of the vagina test showed a diagnosis of vestibular neuritis (inflamation in the inner ear caued by a viral attack - I like to think it was the walkers from Walking Dead). I have 60% malfunction on my right side. This definitely explains all of my symptoms and while it will go away, it could take awhile. I'll be starting what is called vestibular physical therapy to help retrain my brain and other senses to compensate for the malfunction and hopefully get my equilibrium back.

On a side note I'd also like to share that while I think my ENT is a solid, thorough and wonderful doc, he is a bit quirky. On my first visit whenever I'd ask him a question, he'd start his response with, "I see 4-5 dizzies a week..." So, basically I am now categorized as a "dizzy." I'm not sure this is proper etiquette - like if you saw a psychiatrist would he/she say, "I see 4-5 crazies a week?" 

I also had an MRI on Friday to rule out all the scary stuff, but haven't gotten results back yet.  I took Ativan for the MRI then had wine later and apparently things became very enteraining (you'd have to ask Ken about the details).

Turns out when you can't run you have extra time for other things that don't require too much focus like doing crosswod puzzles and Wordle, walking Annie and picking up her big shits:

The answer is yes, you do need to see this.

I can also sit by a fire pit and drink wine and watch friends fart into the flames:

Tiny bit 'o crack showing

I'm able to sit in a manicure chair:

I've had time to watch every new show imaginable - 

• The Last of Us (Another day, another apocolyse. Episode 3 was 😍)
• Ted Lasso, Season 3 (recipe for the biscuits Ted brings everyone. You're welcome)
• Survivor (I am the only one who has watched all 44 seasons? I refuse to add up how many hours that is)
• Shrinking (Harrison Ford is so old. But so am I)
• Bad Sisters (I wish the use of the word "twat" was normalized in the US)
• The Door Prize (My potential = dizzy. You will get his if you've watched the show. If not, sorry)
• A Million Little Things (this is getting very sad even if that particular character really annoys me)
• Jury Duty (okay, this is worth the watch if for no other reason than the poop scene and the ending)
• The Beef (I will NEVER engage in road rage again)
• The Last Thing He Told Me (I read the book. The series is entertaining)

I also went ice fishing becaue that just requires standing still and looking into a hole (that's what he said) and not catching anything (well, okay everyone else caught something but they are just show offs).

This was last week at Redfeather Lakes, CO. Spring in CO is not spring in other places

I have already missed two races, including a trail half marathon in Fruita, Colorado. I really enjoy donating so much money to my running habit. Next up is the Bolder Boulder 10k on 5/29. I am determind to do this one as it is one of my favorite days of the year and I've probably done it 15 times. Plus, you can drink beer at 9 a.m. Here Ken and I are last year if you care.

Well, that's enough ranting for now. 

Humor me:

Best shows you've watched lately?

Ever had an illness misdiagnosed or hard to diagnose?

When's your next race?

Later,

SUAR (aka "the dizzy")

Life is Hard. RIP.

 19 days ago, I stood up from my desk at 4:30 pm and almost fell over. As I stumbled around the kitchen like Annie (Kristen Wiig) on the plane going to Vegas in Bridesmaids, Ken told me to lay down and have some Nuun. I did it because I am subservient and in a couple hours felt better. Fast forward to 7am the next morning and you could find me flat on my back in my dark bedroom with a bucket by my head. The same white vessel we named the “puke bucket” for our kids when they were young. I'm sure every home has one designated barf container. 

Mother fucker

What was happening to me? Was I pregnant despite Ken's vasectomy and my 56-year-old eggs? Did I have a brain tumor like WebMD said?

Well, no. It was apparently a sudden onset of vertigo. Imagine not being able to move your head without the spins or having literally crawl to the bathroom. Imagine that every little sound, smell or movement made you want to vomit. Literally, I could smell Ken microwaving chicken noodle soup downstairs and wanted to hurl. Stupid.

Annie is perplexed.

Never did I think it would last this long, as we close into 3 weeks of this bullshit. I am no longer carrying the bucket around, but the dizziness is still my constant companion and I can’t drive or needless to say, RUN. My head is heavy and my brain is foggy.

Let’s increase the sadness factor here. On the very early morning of March 27, Ken woke me up and said, “My mom died.” We had gone to bed that night and knew she had gone into the hospital and was in ICU but the news came as a shock.

So, soberly (in the sense that we are sad but not in the sense that I stopped drinking wine) we are headed to Florida in the morning for a funeral and internment. Peg, my mother-in-law, was a decent, sweet, funny and pious woman. She “saw the eye of God” in her last hours and I hope this brought her peace in those final moments. I like to believe it really did.

These three weeks have taught me some things about patience, vulnerability and acceptance. When you are reduced to such sadness and when you can hardly do much for yourself, you get clear on what is important real fast. Not running sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. What is the end of the world is not being able to walk your dog for a minute in the sunshine or talk to your mom or best friend on the phone because you feel too nauseous. What sucks is your brain being so mixed up that you can’t track a thought or put on your socks.

Two ENTS, a chiropractor and my primary doc later, there is no clear diagnosis. I just have to wait it out. Maybe it’s BPPV (crystals in ear) or vestibular neuritis (inflamed nerve in the inner ear). We’ve tried all the meds and the maneuvers and now I’m just sitting here trying to not resist what is. The struggle comes in not accepting where you are, right?

I’m grateful we visited Florida in February before Peg was so sick and to have a few laughs and meals with her. Wednesday we will say our final goodbye and whether I’m dizzy or not, I’ll be there to take it all in and to honor her memory and the amazing mom she’s been to my husband and the devoted grandma she’s been to my kids. I won’t run while I’m there And you know what? Who cares. Running is my passion and what I love to do but it’s not everything.

Love,

SUAR 

 

2023 Rock 'n Roll Arizona Half Marathon Race Report - Did I Get the Goal?

I woke up to dark, cold and wet. Well, it was dark, warm and dry in my hotel bed, but outside it was rainy and pitch black. I got up and started messing with the pile of running clothes I'd thrown onto the floor the night before. But, the most important order of business, coffee, needed to be tended to. I filled the Nespresso water canister, popped in a capsule and hit the "on" button. Nothing. I fiddled with the power cord and yes, it was plugged in. I moved all coffee machine parts around. No go. I started to panic. Coffee was as much a necessity as my running shoes and a pre-race poop. I called to Ken, who doesn't drink coffee (freak), to help me. With half closed eyes, he looked at it, pressed buttons then declared he was sorry but he had to poop. Sigh.

In the meantime I was getting behind on other things like eating my oatmeal (didn't have time to get hot water in the lobby so used lukewarm tap water - don't recommend) and pinning on my bib. I also still needed to jug some Nuun and poop ( don't mean jug poop; just get out some poop). I pleaded with Siri to tell me how to work a Nespresso maker, which she kindly did, but it still didn't work. I looked around, tears welling in my eyes (haha okay, so dramatic) and held my gaze for a moment, deep in thought. Then just like that, Christmas Vacation Style, I flipped on the light switch near the coffee maker and VOILA, a steady stream of hot liquid finally made its appearance. Problem solved. It's true I am a social worker who is very much not STEM-like in any way.

Dressed, hydrated, caffeinated and full of cold oatmeal (and poop ugh), we headed to the start.  I said goodbye to Ken, handed him my jacket, and got into my corral in the rain. I failed to wear a hat to keep the rain out of my eyes. It doesn't really rain in Colorado. It also doesn't really rain in Phoenix, so there's that. I'd just suck it up. I told myself to embrace, not resist, the conditions. I'm very wise that way.

Let's pause here for a moment. After my accident in August I've had to stay off of the trails for fear of falling and re-injuring myself. Therefore, once I was given the clear to run in September, I decided to set my sights on road running and qualifying for the NYC Marathon with my half marathon time. In the 55-59 female age group that's a 1:54. Before November, I hadn't done a road half marathon in years. My last one was the Utah Valley Half in 2017 - one of those common Utah races where they drive you to the top of a canyon and you run down (800 feet of elevation loss, no turns). I did that one in 1:50:21 and that was when I was 50. Gulp.

Yes, I'd done my long runs consistently as well as speed workouts on the treadmill. But, based on my half marathon time in November (2 hours), 1:54 seemed like a lofty, although not impossible goal. If it was easy to qualify, everyone would do it right?

The gun goes off and so do I. I decided my approach would be to not look at my watch until mile 12. I've never gone totally by feel before. Lets try it! I also promised myself that if at the half way mark I felt good I'd pick it up. It rained hard for the first 7 or so miles. So hard I thought I'd lose a contact lens. I didn't. At the halfway mark I took a Maurten gel (consistency of pure Jello) I had in my pocket and knew I had enough in the tank to pick it up. I couldn't believe how good I felt and how much energy I had. I kept telling myself to keep pushing and that I didn't do all those freezing cold long runs in the snow and sweaty interval runs on the treadmill just to not make my goal. 

At mile 12 I gave myself permission to look at my watch because I didn't want to miss my goal by seconds. My watch said 1:41. WHAT??? I knew I had it. I sprinted that 1.2 miles and seeing Sam with about 1/3 of a mile to the finish line was a huge boost. I ran the second half faster than the first.

Thing is, this time qualifies me for NEXT year's NYCM - so 2024. Hopefully I'm still alive by then.

Overall, I really liked this course. It's not especially scenic, except for one part around 9 miles when you climbed a hill up between two buttes and have a gorgeous view of the city (Papago Park). I also like that it's pretty flat with only about 200 ft of elevation gain. Rock 'n Roll has it dialed in with their aid stations, excellent tracking app, post race party and multiple porta potties (I never did poop). And, Phoenix in January is usually a sure thing weather wise for a race. 

Clearly not my photo as I wasn't in a helicopter, but you get the idea.

Thanks for reading along. I'm a big fan of race reports so thanks to anyone who has written one and has filled me in on their experiences and what to expect.

What's your next race? I don't have anything officially signed up for until the Bolder Boulder in May. But, will likely do something before then.

Are you obsessed with your watch while running or do you go mostly be feel? What watch do you have? I've been going by feel on my long runs, but use time/pace for speed workouts. I have a Suunto 9 Baro and absolutely love it. Been using it for almost 5 years.

Favorite pre-run fueling? I usually do oatmeal/graham crackers and/or a Honey Stinger Waffle

SUAR

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Do NOT Water Down My Margarita + Countdown to Race Day

I'm feeling the love. I missed you too. People still DO read blogs!

It was really reassuring to learn how many of you have dogs that eat turds. But, the question keeping me up at night is why don't cats do it? My estimation is that they are far too sophisticated for that BS. If they were going to do it, they would be so embarrassed about their behavior that they would likely hide shamefully in an old Amazon Prime box and do it in there under the dark of night.

Tomorrow we leave for the airport at 5am for Phoenix to get there in time to get the the Rock 'n Roll race expo before it closes. I chose our hotel (The Canopy) not only because it is at the start line, but also because it has a lovely rooftop pool and bar. It is a slam dunk that if you go to Phoenix in January, or really anytime for that matter, the sun will shine upon you and you can put on your bikini (or tankini or one piece) and lay by the pool with a margarita. Eff you Phoenix. This does not look like vacation weather.

I do love to run in cooler temperatures and don't mind the rain if it's not pouring or going sideways. So, the race weather is fine. But, I don't like to lay by the pool in the rain because my margarita gets watered down and my headlights come out (IYKYK).

Did you know my first ever race was a marathon (Rock and Roll Arizona - same race I'm doing Sunday) and here is my first ever blog post about that race! 2009. God I'm old because I thought I was old then but I now see I was young and supple and now I'm old(er), periodless and I take things like fish oil, calcium and Vitamin D regularly (I even have a day of the week pill holder). Gasp.

Just for fun here's me in Vegas last summer because I wasn't blogging then so you didn't get to see this.

Not only was my arm still broken, but I had an eye infection so I couldn't wear my contacts. Add to that drama that I don't have prescription sunglasses and did not have enough time to get them before the trip so I did the very classy "Wear Over the Glasses Sunglasses" (WOGS). Just to legitimize this trend, you can even find it on the Urban Dictionary HERE. You can barely even tell I have two pairs of glasses on or that's what I told myself. I did look pretty hot going through the Wynn slightly intoxicated with a sling and double glasses. In all fairness, I did wear an appropriate shirt (this was from New Years but I wore it n Vegas too).

That would be Fireball

Oh, and on that note about Vegas. I got kicked off a blackjack table for the first time in my life. Erika, Clair and I were at a table at Resort World having the time of our lives winning! I would get quite excited when I got a blackjack and flail my body around (plus I had a broken arm and I'm blaming that all day long). The first time I spilled my vodka tonic all over the blackjack table, soaking the deck of cards, the pit boss and dealer laughed and assured me it was no big deal. "HAHA everyone does it! No problem lady!" The second time, they were a bit more subdued, but still smiled and cleaned it up. The THIRD time it was actually Erika who spilled her Absolut citron and soda (so this whole thing is clearly her fault), and the pit boss said "Get out. You are kicked off this table!" I feel pride.

Welp, it's 3:25 p.m. so I need to pack and lay around before I go to bed and get up. 

I'll let you know how the race goes. I have goals. I'll tell you later.

What's your favorite weather to race in? 40s, partly sunny, no wind.

Got a good Vegas story? I have too many to count but someday I'll tell you about when I gave Erika's cell phone number to a gang member from LA. This is the kind of stellar friend I am.

SUAR

My Dog Eats Poop and Other Updates

God, I'm so rusty at this...not sure I even know how to tipe enymoor.

Why now? I don't know. Today's been a boring, gray January day and I'm feeling less than energized by my job and life. It's the time of year for all you SAD suckers like me (Seasonal Affective Dickheads). I don't really have SAD per se (that's what anti depressants are for), but I do have the BLAHS (which stands for...Big Lazy Ass Hoe Show? I don't know). 

So much has happened since my last blog post ten months ago. For example, I got my first gel manicure and my nails are finally growing into real nails instead of little shitty papery things that make me look like I've been working in the mines of Appalachia <random. Picking your nose with gel nails is the bomb, btw.

I also stopped getting periods, which is less messy and annoying, but also means the hot flashes rage on. If you are 30 and reading this and don't think this will be your life, it will be your life and get over yourself!

Okay for real - in the spirit of keeping you updated, I got a puppy, Annie. She's an English Cream Golden Retriever, she's perfect and she'll be a year old in February. She also almost killed me in August when she pulled me over onto a concrete slab breaking my humerus (upper arm by the shoulder and there is nothing humorous about it), breaking two ribs and collapsing my lung. What a bitch. 

Here I am:

And here she is:

And here she is eating the cat:

Who looks better?

I still love her and I know deep down she is sorry for what she did. She shows me how sorry she is by digging in the yard and eating her own poop and and humping her favorite blanket at 5 pm sharp each night. Why are dogs so weird? Eating poop is not okay. Sometimes I know she's found a frozen poop nugget in the yard because I look out there and see her munching on what seems to be a tootsie roll, just loving life. 

I still love her.

What else? Well, the "my dog sent me to the hospital" debacle happened exactly a month before the 50 mile race I had been training for all summer (Run Rabbit Run in Steamboat) so I watched Yellowstone and drank chardonnay and ate cheese instead. I did, however, manage to do the Richmond Half Marathon in November, and ran a personal worst time (2 hours). Yay me. Don't worry. I'm doing Run Rabbit Run this year barring any freak accidents.

I am looking for redemption next week, however, as I'll be running the Rock and Roll Arizona half. Good news, I know I will not have my period that day! I've traded in my Nikes for Saucony's and I could not be happier. I am loving the Saucony Endorphin Speed.

Well this was just a check in. I wonder if anyone reads blogs anymore. I miss them. I'm glad you're here. Did you miss me at all? 

What are you training for?

Does your dog eat poop? Or what other obnoxious things do they do?

Do you still get periods?

How old are you? I'm almost 56 (February 22, 2023 - message me if you'd like my address to send gifts or money to).

Also - if you want to get emails when a new post is up please put your email address in the box a the top right. Feedburner went away and I guess I lost all those email subscriptions. Bastards.

SUAR

I'm Finally Ready to Write This: Goodbye Sweet Heidi.

Disclaimer: Don't blame me if you choose to read this without Kleenex and get snot on your shirt.

She truly touched so many people as a therapy dog with hospice for two years

In late November I challenged myself to journaling every day for 100 days. I did pretty well, only missing a few days here or there. I wrote an entry on Day 39 (12/23/2022): "These are some things that kept me up in the night: Are the pets inside and safe? What does my day look like tomorrow?" Sometimes after worrying about things at night, I would get up and journal in the morning about what kept me up. It seems so much clearer and non threatening in the light of day. But, really, we never know what is coming. Because the next day Heidi died.

Charlie Brown was a top favorite!

Hardly a day has gone by since Christmas Eve that I haven't thought about writing the story of that day. But I just couldn't. Some of you have asked me more about Heidi, so thank you. I realized that part of her story is not just all of the wonderful days we had with her (9 years!) but how she left us. If you've read this blog over the years, you knew Heidi too. I think I'm ready.

Ironically, I love Christmas Eve for all of the anticipation, build up and magic that encompasses that day. This year, I slept like crap the night before and asked Ken if he would walk Heidi for me (he did weekends, I did week days). I never do that and I regret so much that I missed her final walk. Truth is, she seemed fine that morning. She hung out in the kitchen while I cooked two huge lasagnas for that night. As I took a short rest in the living room to catch my breath, I heard a crash. Ken yelled to me that Heidi had fallen over and my heart sank because I knew. You know how you just know? I did.

Forever loved her stuffed animals that she carried around

She was conscious, but did not want to get up. I had no clue what to do with a 70 pound dog who would not get up. My heart raced, tears clouded my eyes. I felt like I wanted to throw up. I called a few emergency vets and told them what happened. The gravity of their voices and hesitancy to give me any reassurance just confirmed what I knew.

Finally, we found a emergency vet who would see her immediately. The kids, thankfully home for the holidays, helped me and Ken push her onto a sheet. The four of us carried her to the car. I had this out of body experience for a second - watching her family carrying her sick body, a joint and loving effort. I knew I would never forget that image of all of us together, hearts hurting, lifting her body into my Ford Edge, for her last ride.

At the ER we quickly learned Heidi's stomach had filled with fluid - blood. She had not been sick, had not seemed sluggish, but likely her body was riddled with cancer we did not know about. A surgery that would likely hurt her more seemed unnecessarily cruel at this point. I've always felt that pet owners need to know when to let go and to not hold on selfishly because they don't want say goodbye. We knew our answer.

We were taken to a "comfort room" (I didn't find much comfort there) and they brought Heidi in and she laid on a blanket. She was comfortable, yet sleepy, as she'd been given some pain medicine. They left us to have some final moments with her to say goodbye. For Christ sake, I'll never be ready. Then the vet came in and explained what would happen next. They put medicine to relax her into her catheter and once that was in they let us know they would be administering the medicine that would stop her heart (and break mine). They started to give that to her. We all were in the midst of having our final goodbyes, laying over her body and whispering parting words, when the catheter failed.

Such a lady - crossing her legs

So, yes, to add horror to this whole thing, as she was half way gone things halted. And, we waited while they desperately tried to find another vein. I practically had a panic attack watching them poke and prod by sweet girl in her final moments. Finally, they figured it out and she was gone.

If you have lost a pet or love a pet or both then you know the pain.

This was taken just a few days before she died when we did pet therapy 

Grief for me looks like many different things. There is the obvious crying, drinking of wine, laying on the couch and crying more. Then there is the inability to look at any pictures of her, the regret over not having saved the last huge bunch of hair from her brush (then getting on hands and knees and trying to scrape it out of the carpet), the unexpected tears when I saw her dog poop in the yard (poop doesn't usually make me cry unless it's during a race and I'm about to shit my pants).  And, a thousand other things.

It's been over three months now. Just this week I put her picture on my desk. Maybe soon I can wear the PJ pants Ken gave me for Christmas with her picture all over them. And, I can finally write this post.

I've got a beautiful paw print and a gorgeous wood box with her ashes. I keep it close by.

And, the cat. Well, Krosby was/is sad. We got Krosby as a kitten and I truly think he looked at Heidi as his mama. He slept cuddled up to her belly. He roughhoused with her. He adored her. Sometimes he sits on the couch looking out the window where she was when she fell over and I swear he is looking for her. Or, maybe that's a story I just make up. I don't know. But I do know he misses her. We all do.

I don't love spring time (in Colorado it's super temperamental, muddy and windy), but I do love that it symbolizes new beginnings and growth. It's when the baby animals are born! When the crocuses poke up their heads from the frozen soil. When the birds start chirping with the sunrise.

And fittingly enough, it's when I will get my new puppy. I wasn't looking for a puppy. I wanted a 1-2 year old female Golden Retriever rescue. They are hard to come by, but I was prepared to wait. The day I put in my application last week I got a call. There was a litter of English Cream Golden puppies. Did I want one? Oh, hell. 

Which one is ours??

We will meet her April 9 at noon. She will come home April 16. Say what you want, but this feels serendipitous. Maybe a little nudge from Heidi. A new start.

Love,

SUAR

My Personal Rim Job (Rim to Rim to Rim of the Grand Canyon)

HI! Do you hear something? That is the sound of me resurrecting this blog from the annals of the blog graveyard. I know there are other causalities out there. But, this resurrection could only be done for something epic like me not having to poop during a 48.3 mile run.

Or, maybe that I even did a 48.3 mile run.

Or, maybe that the 48.3 mile run was done from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon down to the Colorado River, up to the North Rim of the canyon and back again. In one day! This is called Rim to Rim to Rim or if you are really cool, you call it R3.

48.3 miles. 12,000 feet of elevation gain. 18 hours (about 15 hours moving time - yea we took lots of pictures and stuff).

Yea, I know other people, many other people, have done this before me and will do it after me. Yea, I know this is something crazy ultra runners do for fun and torture because we are like that. But, this is ABOUT ME. I did R3 last Saturday and I need to process it so can you please read about it? Not to mention, I scoured the internet obsessively before doing R3 for other people's reports on their day so this is my way of giving back to the R3 world. 

Would it be shocking if I told you I tried to buy a hat to wear during the run that said "I {heart} Rim Jobs" (this exists; of course it does), but it didn't come in time. 

I have no clue when I first decided to do this. Probably after 5 glasses of chardonnay on a Tuesday. Julie agreed we would do it and that was that. Team Beth and Julie. Team Bulie. Team Jeth. Whatever.

We really committed to it all back in March when I reserved our room at a lodge in the Canyon. You have to do these things 500 years in advance. And, you have to pay out the ass for what looks way less nice than the Rosebud Motel from Schitt's Creek (but was actually quite nice on the inside). Yavapai Lodge FTW.

Plans made, training started, researching commenced.

I control my anxiety and make up for anything that I lack like common sense by over preparing. You have no idea how many hours I put into planning my gear, fueling, hydration, route, water sources. I really did think of it all. In the end I didn't bring anything but duct tape because that's all anyone really needs in life. I kid, but I actually did bring duct tape (pro tip: wrap a few feet of duct tape around a business or credit card to make a for a lightweight travel option!)

We flew to Phoenix on Friday October 15. As I boarded in Denver, I approached the gate agent with my zipper fully down (not intentional) and he seemed pretty excited about it saying "Well, alright! Here we go!". I had a glass of wine at 8:30 a.m. on the flight because I was anxious. We drove 3 1/2 hours to the Grand Canyon, stood on the South Rim and said "Holy shit what the actual hell have we gotten ourselves into?" We went to the tavern and had pizza and beer and prided ourselves on the fact that we were truly living life and taking risks. Then I slept for a total of 3 hours because I was so stressed about truly living life and taking risks.

Looks easy

The R3 Eve. Still looking perky and hopeful.

2:30 a.m. Packs ready to go. Water filled. Layers on. Went to the lodge to choke down microwaved oatmeal. I don't really eat oatmeal but it seemed like the thing to do. Parked near the Bright Angel Trailhead (where we would finish in God knows how many hours). Called the 24 hour taxi service (no ubers/lyfts in the park). Got picked up and paid $14 cash at the South Kaibab trailhead where we were dropped and left to die. Had some quality time with the pit toilet. On a side note, most people take the South Kaibab trail down and Bright Angel back up because Bright Angel is more gradual and there are two water sources on the trail (SK has none).

What a wrinkled mess of crap

Well, how do YOU look at 3 a.m eating oatmeal?

I suppose I am half way crying and half way still asleep. Or drunk.

4 a.m. Darkness. Wind. Cold. Let's go descend this fucker of a trail into the abyss. Poles in hand, headlamps on. We screamed "We are doing it!" as I tried not to look over the edge. For the next 7 miles we descended in complete darkness, howling wind and dust flying into my contact lenses. I could sense the extreme drop offs, but couldn't see them. The sun came up just in time for us to see the Colorado River at the bottom. Holy shit. We are at the Canyon floor. Only 2% of people ever actually go below the rim of the canyon and we were at the bottom.

Seems safe

A couple miles from the bottom we came across this lone cross. It was really beautiful.

Just for fun, this is what part of the trail looks like in daylight. Gulp.

About to cross the Colorado River for the first time on the Black suspension bridge

7 a.m. Reached Phantom Ranch, topped off our water and ate. Ditched the layers and stuffed them into our packs (DO NOT stash clothes or anything else along the trail. This is considered littering and the rangers will take stuff). It is about 40-50 degrees warmer at the bottom of the Canyon than at the rim. We were aiming to eat 200 calories per hour. I carried 3L of water in my pack and it weighed a million pounds but that is better than it weighing no pounds and me succumbing to dehydration like 200+ people do a year in the Canyon (I told you I did my research). I was NOT going out by helicopter no matter how cool and Hollywoodish that sounds.

9:30 a.m. Arrived at and passed through Cottonwood Campground after running a very gradual uphill through the "box" of the canyon for about 7 miles. Started the remainder of our long ascent to the North Rim (about 7 miles and 6,000 feet). Ate a turkey and cheese sandwich on a Wonder Bread bun and chugged some Tailwind.

12 p.m. Arrived at the North Rim to snow on the ground and cool temperatures. 22 miles in! The climb to this rim was slow going, but very manageable and we just kept pushing forward. It was indescribably gorgeous so I won't try to describe it <that's how smart I am. Just go do it someday. There were multiple places where the trail was literally cut into the side of the canyon with very steep drops. Thank you amazing trail workers in the 1920s who made this trail for me. Just for me. I wasn't modest about literally hugging the inner canyon wall. At the top of the rim we had cell service for a minute (there is none in the canyon at all), so texted the entire universe to let them know we made it about half way and would be done in 9 to 10 hours. I then stuffed my face with trail mix, more turkey/cheese and Tailwind. Popped some Tylenol like candy.

Hi North Rim! Sorry we can't stick around. 

12:30 p.m. to sunset: There is just something mentally uplifting about being halfway done with anything. I could be doing a one mile run and once I get to .5 miles, I rejoice. The only thing was - it wasn't exactly halfway. It was one rim to the other, but the way back is longer (as in - it ended up being over 26 miles). We maneuvered down the North Rim pretty quickly, but my left knee was bugging me. Shut up knee! Asshole. I knew I had many many miles of climbing to go, so I tried to not panic. My go to when things are tough is to not assume will get any worse and to just keep moving forward. And, to pop 4 ibuprofen at a time which is really good for both your stomach and your liver. Walking seemed to hurt as much as running, so we kept running. We knew the sun would set at 5:55 p.m. (I plan! I research!), so our final 10 mile climb would be in the dark with the mountain lions, steep cliffs and homicidal maniacs. Foreshadow.

Just taking a stroll

YUCCA

Over the course of the day my trail name became Gritty Titty. I'm down with that.

I mean....stunning

Sunset: We topped off our water for the last time at Phantom Ranch while watching the visitors (who either packed in or came down by mule) eat their steak dinner and drink their damn wine and beer. It's fine! I'll just suck on some more of my spigot water through my bladder tube and eat my soggy Wonder Bread. There is infamous lemonade that you can buy at the canteen but it was closed for the day. It was the countdown to the finale with only ten miles to go. We estimated that if we could do 20 minute miles as we climbed 6,000 feet we'd be done by 8:30 or 9pm!! Way earlier than we thought! In time to go to the tavern for a burger. HAHAHAHAHA. It was really funny we thought that was possible.

6:30 pm. Headlamps back on and we cross the Colorado River for the last time. We start our long ascent to the top of South Rim. Shut up knee!! It's starts off super gradual with the soothing background of a roaring creek, chirping crickets and croaking frogs. Literally no one was out there with us, which felt unnerving. But, then I looked up and way up where God lives or where heaven is or at least Jeff Bezos there were twinkling headlamps. For fuck's sake. We were hiking up there. This is about the time Julie noticed a flashing red light behind us that kept getting closer and closer. We could look down at the switchbacks and see it coming. It definitely belonged to a person, but why did they have a red light instead of the usual white light? Obviously because they were coming to get us. Julie was really scared and at one point told me to "go faster." I was like "what the HELL Julie! I am climbing up the Grand Canyon at night with over 40 miles in my legs. I can't go faster. I will just have to die instead." We passed other hikers and Julie warned them about the flashing red light coming soon. Finally, the red light was upon us, so we pulled off to the side to let "it" pass. Well, "it" was a female ranger HAHAHAHA!  "Julie you have been afraid of a RANGER for the last hour! Julie is afraid of RANGERS! Julie warned people about RANGERS coming to get them." It actually still is funny to me.

8:30 p.m. We hit the 3 Mile Resthouse. ONLY three miles to the top. In real life, not Canyon life, that would take about 30 minutes. Well, these three shitty miles went on for a literal lifetime. If you ever do this run/hike you will hate these final miles and you will want to destroy them. Shut up knee! You will keep looking up when you think you are at the top and you will see lights taunting you above - hikers still climbing. You will pass people lying on the trail and puking (not kidding!). You will find curse words streaming out of your mouth as you trudge on, afraid to stop because your legs might not hold you. You will stop and eat a salted watermelon GU because you think it will give you life to climb that final mile. And, it does. 

Warning on the trail that you might throw up. Thanks.

10:00 p.m. Then, there she is. The TOP in all of her glory. We saw it steps away and both broke into tears. No matter the planning or the best of intentions, so much can happen over the course of this day that you cannot control. Things that will thwart your attempt to finish R3. We knew and accepted that. But, here we were, at the top, DONE. All the the training, anticipation and effort behind us. I am still processing that day that felt like a lifetime of memories. That I got to share it with a dear friend of 25 years was a true gift. That my almost 55 year old body allowed for this type of journey is not lost on me. If able, do it while you CAN. That thing you've been wanting to do but haven't. Because, honestly, there will be a day when you can't. 

God, I look crazy. 

Gear:

Pack: Salomon Adv Skin 12 (seriously the BEST pack ever; worth the investment)

GPS Watch: Suunto 9 Baro (best battery life out there)
Sunglasses: Goodr
Shoes: Salomon Wild Cross

Socks: Ridge Supply
Shorts: Asics
Tank: GRIT tank from Stephanie Bruce (got tons of comments on this)
Jacket: Salomon Lightening Lightshell
Long Sleeve: Lululemon Swiftly Tech
2nd Jacket: Patagonia Nano
Poles: Black Diamond Distance FLZ

Headlamp: Black Diamond Storm
Gloves: Athleta

Visor: Ironman

Food:

2 Salted Watermelon GUs
2 turkey/cheese sandwiches
2 Honey Stinger waffles
1 sleeve Honey Stinger chews
Handfuls of monster trail mix
1 Snickers bar

Handfuls of gummy fish

Drink:

2 L Tailwind (lemon lime)
3-4 L water

10 Salt Stick tabs

Other:

First aid supplies

Duct tape

Extra headlamp (in case one went out, which happened)

Flashlight

Water filter - Sawyer

Emergency blanket

Vaseline

Ibuprofen and Tylenol

Extra shorts

Extra socks

Hand warmers

Sunscreen and lip balm (Sun Bum FTW)

Phone

Trail map

Cash for snacks, lemonade at the canteen and for taxi ride

Extra contact lenses

Optional: (we did not have these)

GPS Spot or similar - shows your location since your phone won't work

Travel Insurance - in case you need to be rescued (World Nomads)

Tampons/pads (We are too old for that shit) HAHAHA

Now, GO GET IT! Oh, and thanks for reading. Say "hi" in the comments. Please.

SUAR