I don't want to

I don't want to exercise today.

 Nope.  Not in the mood.

It's not convenient.  At all.

It's been a week?!? since I last ran.  Oh, I've worn workout clothes, and twice *thought* it would happen.

It didn't.  So, third times a charm, right?

Nope.

 Hey...does this mean we don't have to exercise today?!?

Actually, this is me:

 #notmyprotest

I'm actually rather irritated by the whole Woman's Day and the protest.  Really?!? First off, my birthday celebrates Me.  If I want to celebrate another woman, I can do it on her birthday.  No other date necessary.  Bad enough you all throw in Mother's Day (hate it) but now this?!?  Just no.

(Yes, I hate Mother's Day.  Call me a communist but I despise it.  Why?  On my first Mother's Day, I woke up and looked at my beautiful dark-haired four month old daughter in the cradle by my bed.  Her daddy was dead, less than a few weeks before.  No one was there to celebrate my new motherhood with me...those first years are all about your spouse.  Then I remarry and the King never helped the kids celebrate it.  So I'm over it.  It causes more pain, for more women, then any good!  The motherless, and the barren childless may also loathe the day...but as a newly widowed mum?  It's the only hang up I carry from those days.)

So I'm to show my worth by not showing up, eh?  What an example that is.

And I'm so tempted to follow it by not exercising.

Afterall, you're not allowed to body shame me, right?

 I dare you.  Body shame me:)

I need a good hike.  Badly.

I also need to get this work done.

I also need to show up for both.

Ugh.

I hate exercise.

The end.

*recanting post may/or may not follow.

Fine. 

 I went.

I showed up.  In the apartment parking lot, and I even wore "running shoes."

Brooks Glycerin 13

"Updated with improved overlays and a dynamic saddle in the upper, Brooks' Glycerin 13 running shoes continue to be a cushioned choice that's ideal for daily use and high-mileage training. The full-length Super BioMoGo DNA midsole offers added cushioning and a stable ride, and the rounded heel encourages smooth transitions."

Oh.  My.

Why would you run on a mattress?!??

So I'm running on concrete.  Asphalt.  Hard stuff.  I wear the "correct shoes.""

And nearly trip walking down the stairs.

They're grippy.

And springingy.

I can feel stress in my knees almost immediately.  So I start experimenting with stride, and find a mildly comfortable one.

 

See the crazy arch?  That's my normal stabilizer when running in minimus.

Now I'm sweaty and out of breath but at least I did something.

And that's better than nothing.

I didn't want to, but I did it.  I don't feel better, but it's ok.

I still did it.

Brand New and Broken

At least the first part of the day went well.

 My beloved rocks.

My run, while not entirely successful, did make me sweat.  It also produced two asthma attacks.  I have no clue how this is to be brought under control, but I'm determined to figure it out.

 The west side of 51 adjacent to Dreamy Draw.  This is the Phoenix Mountain Preserve.

Some say it's the pollution in the valley.  Or the altitude in the highlands.  All I know is breathing is not very predictable...and that I truly want to run.

 This soooooooo inspires me!  I want to run up it and down it!

During the first attack my mind said I was simply out of shape.  This despite the fact my legs felt great and my pulse was a steady lower beat than expected.

 I mean seriously.  Trail 100 just kicks butt.  I need to bring my bike down here:)

After thirty minutes I could finally breathe and ran a mile.  I knew I had more in me but had to stop; lunch was calling (I was looking forward to seeing the Buckeye.  Can you believe it? Me, a Wolverine?!?) and I've learned that pushing is not always in my best interest.  But oh, how I wanted to run.

 The rocks!!

 That's a wash;)

 The run behind me was perfect.

Wanting desperately to do something that's good for you, and then being denied it because of limitations you can't control is so frustrating.  I'm not giving up because I know how good it can be when it works.

Haha-kinda like dating.😳. Let's just leave that one right there.😉😜😊

 Actually had my age guessed as 29 last night.  Yes, it was dark.  Yes, the person was drunk.  

Why was I out last night at 1am?

 Driving home.  I don't think I look 29.  I think I was pregnant the entire time I was 29, actually.

Because a golf cart died at the W.  I pushed it to a parking garage across the street.  She's brand new, and broken.  Again.

 

Cherry Bomb 🍒 has had a very rough start.

Apparently, it's her battery.  Another driver told me "the ones they come with never last more than 10hrs."

Mental note taken at 12:47am - new policy to replace every battery in every new cart at time of purchase.

Cherry Bomb has had an ill-adjusted accelerator cable, causing backfires and stalls, a broken belt that destroyed the fuel pump and now a dead battery.  I hope that's all it is.  Her list of struggles has had me on the phone and my stomach producing extra acid.

Kinda like me trying to learn trail running.  It really shouldn't be this hard.

 

We see challenges differently.

Bad luck. I don't believe I'm cursed, I just think sometimes things happen.  It's just something to solve, not to read into.  It's no one's fault.  It just is.

Poor Cherry Bomb and I have quite the record; multiple breakdowns for no apparent reason.  Mine all lung related, hers all engine related.  Every fix seems great until we break down again.

 I don't have time for tears anymore😠

So what if it's taking time to work out all the kinks.  So what if it's taking more of an investment than I initially thought.  If I want these things (a smooth running business and the ability to trail run) I have to be patient and roll with the punches.

And be a bit more proactive.

If so, then I'm clearly victorious...

Off to fix the carts, then go for a run and hopefully hit up a Farmer's Market.  Because I can take what I wished for and still make it work when it's seemingly broken.

Again😜 

Ventures into the Unknown

I drove by the new Granite Mountain Hotshot's State Park yesterday, and thought "why not?"

 Maybe the weather.....???

I still hold the title of curator for Prescott Fire Department, and a few times a year I am called to open up the exhibit remembering the 19 fallen members of the Granite Mountain Interagency Hotshots Crew.  They died battling a blaze in Yarnell; the subsequent community outpouring of gifts and memorial items were catalogued and stored for posterity.  I hold the keys to that collection.

 A gaggle of memories.

The parking is right off Yarnell Hill on the descent side; for those of you unfamiliar with this section of AZ89, it's a steep 2000ft mountainside with sweeeping views of the valley below.

 The Princess posing dramatically at the Yarnell Hill overlook last spring.

When I pulled in I noted the park ranger vehicle; jumping out of my car in running tights, Minimus shoes, a tee and hooded sweatshirt I automatically grabbed my pack, making sure I had a bottle of water.

A bottle.  Geez.

I was 30ft up the path when the ranger called out to me from below, asking if I had any questions about the hotshots or the trail.  I assured him I was fine, and he told me an inch and half of rain was expected, so maybe I wouldn't want to go too far.  I thanked him, and told him I had a rain poncho in my pack.  He wished me a good hike, and offered me a map.  I politely declined, knowing it was an in and out trail, and it's not like I didn't know the names of the 19.  With that, I was off.  It was 41°, and barely misting.

Now, I'm gonna be honest here.  For some reason the number 800ft was in my head.  Like, 800ft of trail.

Yeah.

 

Total elevation change over 2.85 miles: 1142ft

You see, it was soooo foggy, I couldn't see.  Literally.  Like by Wade Parker I thought I was at the top of the ridge.  And let's talk about each guy's plaque, shall we?  The mist obliterated the ability to read every single one.  I could make out a word or two, and have to guess.  The only thing I had going for me was I knew they were listed by seniority, and I knew that by heart as our exhibit also used seniority for classification.  Still, it was disappointing not to have a moment to read each story.

It was more disappointing to have a mist turn into a light sprinkle just after Eric Marsh.

I pulled out the poncho, discovering it was an "emergency" poncho.  Meaning it was thinner than a trash bag.  Nice thing was I could tie it at the bottom, it was so flimsy.  The hood refused to stay up, but I already had my sweatshirt hood up.  I was quite warm from the exercise, and took the opportunity to take a puff off the inhaler.  This hike was already more than I had anticipated.

Quite quickly, my glasses had covered in water, and I could not keep them clear.  They fogged up, too; my hoodie providing just enough barrier and warmth to keep me completely in a hazy state.  While the climb was broken up into switchbacks and not that steep, it was a climb; I was over 4000ft in altitude and I could feel my lungs struggling.  So I thought I'd just go to the ridge and back.

That map might have come in handy....

I passed the sawyers and the swampers were next.  I thought of Joe's mom, Gaye Marie, and thought about taking a picture for her, but the rain had picked up significantly.  I kept doing "systems checks"- how I felt, water level, was I warm and dry.  By Garret Zuppinger ("Zupp") I dried my hands and pulled them into my hoodie pocket, assessing their ability to warm up.  At Scott Norris I started singing the song his buddy Evan wrote for him, and decided my fingers were warm enough to continue.  Dustin's plaque was just enough out of the weather I could read his amazing testimony of Jesus Christ.  I pondered stories of Dustin and Clay, shared with me by a surviving hotshot.

Few people realize that the team had other members who weren't there that day.  Two were backups, one was on leave as he had a newborn baby at home.

By now it was raining, but with more than half the team visited, it seemed rude to leave out the rookies.  My core, head and fingers were warm and dry, my feet seemed warm despite being wet.  So I continued, now pretty certain that "800ft" was the distance between the observation platform and the fatality area.

I passed Kevin Woyjeck, and recalled Chief Willis asking him to recite the 10 & 20.  "Never take your eyes off the fire," I muttered, thinking of the "Swiss cheese" effect and how a perfect storm of errors had resulted in these men's deaths.  Dropping into the rim of the cauldron where I knew they died, my view was obscured by fog, but the wind lessened considerably.  The trail evened out, and I knew I had to be close to the observation point.  The trail conditions changed to terrible mud, and I knew then my journey would end at the observation area and I could not risk the journey hike to the fatality site.  That would be for another day, as the weather was growing worse.

 

Apparently you should be able to see where the incident happened from here?  You can see my footprints and the mud and standing water.

At last I saw the "shelter"...from sun maybe, but not wind and rain.  I took three pictures for the record as I dug out my emergency Mylar blanket from my pack.  I was starting to feel the cold in my core...and it was a long hike back.

 Yep.  I had made an error.

I took the Mylar and started working it open under the poncho, hoping to keep my fingers dry.  I was hiking back at the same time, knowing time was of the essence.  Ruefully I thought of my friend Cassian, who does mountain search and rescue in Maricopa, and of the Sheriff up in Coconino.  If I fell and broke something at least it would be Yavapai responding...

Thankfully the slippery mud ended the second I was off the ridge surrounding the area the guys died, and I stopped at a rock outcropping to wrap the blanket around my chest, securing it in place with my backpack.  Almost immediately I felt my core warm up, that extra layer making a world of difference.  By now my feet and legs were soaked to the skin, and I knew more than 2/3rds of the hike were left to go.

I thought of Carol, who I had just blogged about right before the hike.  I was so thankful for her life, and began to pray.  I often pray while hiking; truly it is while out in nature I feel closest to God.  This was different; I didn't feel as if I had problems or needs to be worked out.  Instead, I felt overwhelming gratitude.

As I descended the mountain, soaking wet on my bottom half and unable to see more than ten feet due to fog and water spattered glasses, I began thanking God for the many, many blessings in my life.  I thanked Him for letting me be the curator of the fire department, honored to have served in such a quiet way.  I thanked him for my years with Lia Sophia, and asked His forgiveness for not trusting Him more and giving up praying for the people who challenged my heart in business.  I thanked Him for my failed marriage, because I had wonderful children and not all had been horrible.  I thanked Him for my friends and the many people I had met in this last year, taking time to think individually of many, and asking for blessings to come to them.  I thanked Him for Ride, and began composing my to-do list for today.  I prayed for wisdom...and prayed for others that they would receive  Godly wisdom to help them find peace.

I was surprised how quickly the trail ended.  I was not surprised by how amazing I felt.

 

Oh, I felt magnificent:)

It was actually a just shy of seven mile hike, at nearly a mile high.  I had used the inhaler twice early on, but then was fine.  The hike quickly could have gone wrong, but it didn't.  My well-stocked pack served me well; the crumpled heap of plastic and Mylar had worked perfectly in a time of need.

Yesterday a friend said it looked like a heart.  I saw a fire shelter...

I'm not certain what level of success my quest has achieved.  I do know my legs contain rock-hard muscles, despite the soft layer over them.  My heart must be strong, for it never pounds out of my chest.  My frequent doctor visits (that dang allergic reaction JUST cleared up) reveals a very healthy, consistent blood pressure of 110/70.  I also know a miserable 7 mile hike in the rain with a significant elevation change was no big deal.

I've been trying to be better about food; busy days make that hard.  At least if I get in some exercise there's still results?

 2013 GMIHC, minus Percin & Marsh.

Esse quam videri is a Latin phrase meaning "To be, rather than to seem," and was the motto of the team.  I am not an athlete.  I hate exercise.  I struggle to "get out there" and defy "just do it."  Yet I love the trail, I love hiking, biking, swimming, and yes-trail running.  Is this honesty "being, rather than seeming?"

On the two year anniversary of the quest and blog I do know this:  the accountability to write about my exercise experience has kept me doing it.  The frustrations seem endless, but someday maybe I'll find consistency.  In the meantime, I'm definitely finding myself.

Carol

My dearest friend Carol died unexpectedly last Monday.

On Mackinac, a huge accomplishment for us:)

I'm upset as I found out days later, and devastated to have lost one of the kindest souls I've ever known.  I'm worried about her Kitty, as I don't know who might take her, and I know Carol loved that cat more than anything else in the world.  My head spins knowing the mess that is left behind, and knowing I can do nothing to help after twenty-two years of helping.

It's also among the most bittersweet moments of my life.

 

I met Carol at church when I was newly pregnant with my oldest child.  She was different; her style choices indicated an attention to detail that was eclectic compared to most people's.  Within minutes of speaking with her you knew she wasn't like everyone else; she was challenged with mental illness her entire adult life.

Manic depressive and paranoid schizophrenic.  Let's drop the pretense and be open about mental illness; these are the chronic diseases she battled everyday I knew her.  We get coy talking about illnesses and diseases of the mind, tiptoeing around the subjects as if they are something to be ashamed of or feared.  Medications made a "normal" life possible for her up until this past year, when she suffered heavy setbacks.  Over twenty years I watched her tackle obstacles most people would consider to be nothing; my pride in her accomplishments was nothing compared to the lavish love and joy she brought my family.

Our early friendship was marked by going out to lunch every other month or so; she frequently was "up north" with her father and I saw her on trips to town.  She was one of the first visitors to the hospital when I had my babies, every Christmas and birthday she wrote poetry as a gift.  I remember the first time I realized how special she was to me; it was a few years after we had met.  About four months had gone by since I had seen her, and as we sat chatting I it dawned on me what a marvelous friend I had in this unique woman.  She was grateful to God for the life she led, even though it was frought with family drama.  Her mother and both of her older brothers also shared her diagnosis; her mother refused medication, as did one of her brothers. Her father, a highly successful businessman in his day, was resigned to simply keeping the peace.  Carol was his companion in this; together they kept hidden the destructive tendencies of the family they both loved.  As she shared more of her story I was amazed by her incredible fortitude to stay positive; her older sister, Claudia, had been murdered by her husband as a newlywed.  That incident was the one that sent a then-healthy Carol over the edge; she spent almost a decade institutionalized.  Modern medicines made life outside the hospital possible, I met her about three years later.  She couldn't drive, and had regular anxiety attacks when going somewhere new.  Her faith in God sustained her as she daily dealt with situations that would have driven others insane, she would joke it was good she already had problems as it made her more empathetic to her family's problems.

As her father aged, she took on more responsibilities; his vision loss prompted me to bring up driving to her. Surprisingly, she still had a valid driver's license.  She had gotten it at 16, and had faithfully renewed it every four years, even though it had been 30 years since she had drove.  For a year she prayed and pondered it, I had her start saying "I am a good driver and can help my dad by driving."  She reluctantly agreed to a lesson; I will never, ever forget driving with her while her mother sat in the back seat yelling obscenities at us.  Carol and I chuckled about it for years; her mom insisted a cop in Detroit had taken her license and we needed to hunt him down...among other things!  After that first lesson we had several without her mom in the car, less than a month later I received a call in the early morning hours.

 

"Katie, I just took Dad to the hospital.  He has pneumonia and is in ICU.  I was able to drive him there."  As I exclaimed my pride in her and concern for her father she replied, "but I came home and my mother is dead.  I think she fell down the stairs."  Rushing to be by her side, I had no idea of the horrors I was about to see.  I arrived shortly after the sheriff's office, and walked into her home for the first time.  

I almost didn't see her mother in the crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs...as she was partially hidden by trash.  Mountains of hoarded objects and debris filled the house to past waist high; the smell hit me as I hugged my friend.  I had visited her up north, and knew her home up there to be clean and neat.  I knew this was her mother's mess, and compassion for what she had dealt with swelled.  Over the next few days I helped her find a place to live, and make sense of the mess.  In the months to come our church family cleaned out the house, local businessmen helped her fix it up to sell.  Her father died a few months after her mother, and she decided to relocate to the north; 12 hours away.

Carol visited about four times a year, and we always saw her when we vacationed on Mackinac Island.  Her anxiety over the boat ride prevented her joining us on the island, over the years I decided to build her up just as we had for driving (she became a good driver and could navigate the 12 hour trip between her up north home and our hometown with ease.)  Three years ago the day came when she boarded a ferry to the island and we held each other tight as she fought her mind.  Stepping on the dock we laughed and laughed, overjoyed at her triumph.  She was able to join us again two summers later, in 2015.

 Girls only:)

With the kids at the Fort.

 Us posing in the bathtub at the Fort😂😂

 

 The Princess and her Aunt Carol.

My children all adored their aunt, who showered them with unique gifts they treasured for the novelty factor.  Almost all came from thrift stores, and reflected her eclectic tastes.  She was generous with her love and attention, and they enjoyed her company.  She was a godly woman who showed them truly how to trust the Lord in every situation, and to be happy regardless of lot in life.  While we moved to Arizona six years ago, she never forgot a birthday or Christmas, and always made my children feel special.

The news of her death hit me after a 60 hour work week launching Ride, and unexpected news that had saddened me greatly just two days before.  I was stunned; I had just been thinking I needed to call her that very week.  We hadn't talked since Christmas, and I knew she was struggling.  The past year she had slipped, and was suffering greatly.  Being in Arizona I did my best to encourage her from afar, even as I was dealing with the end of my marriage and the upheavals in my own life.  Learning she died on Monday when on Sunday I had actually told myself to call her and had then forgotten crushed my heart...in her hour of need I was too busy.  I called the King, who had loved her like a sister and who had admired her father highly.  He reminded me of her struggles, and of the Blessed Hope.

 Aunt Carol and the Princess, being silly many years ago.

Jesus.  Our Savior.  He had welcomed her with open arms, as did her father, her now-whole mother, and yes, her sister Claudia.  In heaven our Carol was reunited with her family, and they were well.  Carol was free from the struggles and chains that had held her captive, with those she loved and cherished the most.  As I shared with my children the news their beloved aunt was gone, it came up that they just knew she was hunting down my late sister Jenny and the Knight in heaven  to tell them about the family back on earth.

Carol had fought the good fight, fighting harder than most of us will ever know.  She has finished her race.  Heaven's gain is not my loss, for I will always cherish the memories and love she shared so freely with us.  May her life struggle with mental illness be held up as a standard that it shouldn't be stigmatized.  Rather, we should all love as freely as she did.

Rest In Peace, my dear sister and friend.  I will miss your listening ear, your gentle encouragement and your daily triumphs.  I will miss our adventures we always had when we were together, and how you loved my children as your own.  I look forward to the day we shall dance down the streets of gold, praising God for all He has done.  Until then, I shall remember the good and miss you always.

 

Update:  Carol died of natural causes.  Her heart simply stopped on February 16th; a welfare check on Monday, February 20th found her deceased.  So that call I didn't make on Sunday?  Would not have mattered.  Hopefully we will be able to have a service celebrating her life in Adrian soon; over 1000 people have read this post.  I am humbled to share the story of a much-loved woman by so many and do not feel I've brought her justice.

Aflame

Since my concussion, I find I use words from long-forgotten vocabulary tests with relative ease.

 

I have to look them up to see if they mean what I think they mean--and am always pleasantly surprised when they do.

I recently told an acquaintance I found them to be basal as a mild insult.  

 Yep.  Nailed it.  Suggested he was as basal as all other men.

So the proclivity to use vocabulary words of long ago has only grown in recent months...and I wonder which concussion bestowed this blessing.  Not that it matters, but as one of the blessings I'm counting today, it's funny it stemmed from hitting my head.

You see, yesterday I was sorely tempted to bang such head against a wall.

 Me and Betty Boop, our newest cart to the Ride fleet.

We launch today, and Miss Betty, as of 8:30pm last night, is ready to go. Cherry Bomb and Greenie (in her new red paint job) are on their way to Phoenix, and my  Scottsdale fleet of three is nearly ready to rumble.

I own a business in Scottsdale.

That makes me chuckle this morning, but yesterday it was a different story.  Yesterday I had to put on my big girl panties and get to work...when I was crushed.  So saddened by unexpected news it took my breath away. While struggling to get done all that needs doing in a short amount of time, swimming hard to stay afloat in choppy waters, I received word that I wasn't expecting.

I began to drown.

 

Not even finding a yellow brick road could have lightened my mood (although it did the day before!)

I had no time to stop and go for a run.  I had no time to process anything - it was the worst possible day to throw something at me as I'm trying to pull every last string together into a tapestry.

Flyboy told me to get a grip, and shape the hell up or I'd have to go to work for someone else.  When a former green beret tells you to get your crap together, it's amazingly effective for snapping you straight.

So I put one foot infront of the other, and we got it done.  Not that it was hard-it wasn't-I was simply overwhelmed.

I stayed home that night instead of going out and had a vegetarian meal of lentils & veggies in a curry sauce.  It was delicious, and I started to relax.  It wasn't just the bad news, it was also the fact I hadn't eaten all day.  (When I stress badly, I don't eat.  So does a certain green beret...)

Today was an excellent business day, and new business  alliances were formed.  I possibly have the beginning of a few new friendships, exciting for me as I have only two girlfriends in Phoenix.  

I can hear Flyboy in my head right now, asking how many boyfriends I have in Phoenix.😂😠😜

Tonight I set aside my bruised feelings, and Jenny and I attend the Phoenix Symphony...and I wondered who I need to talk to about advertising with us :)

We were sooooo entertained.

My hair was aflame, my dress was dancing.

 Sooooo fun!!!

 Seriously.  This dress is waaaaaay kick butt.

Tonight I had a wonderful time; goosebumps came when Tschaikowsky was played.

It soothed my soul.

While the door is now closed on certain opportunities; spending time in downtown Phoenix helped me overcome disappointment tonight:)  Forward progress.  No matter what obstacles occur-I must keep that momentum.  Time to put on my Minimus...I've got a business and a trail to run.

 And those decisions belong to me:)

When it Works

Gotta bang this out now, not later.

 You know when you start and immediately see a heart it's good.

My inability to breath as of late has left me very frustrated.  So again, I'm trying.

 Thankfully it's spring in the valley.

My unexpected delay in leaving meant time for a radio interview for Ride this morning and a run...or an attempt at a run.  I recalled long ago the King telling me about "cruising altitude" at about 20 minutes in.  So, I hiked for 20 minutes.  I was mildly breathless.

At the end of 20 I took a puff off the inhaler....and started to run.

I fell immediately.

 On rocks:)

I was ecstatic.

Why I love having a fall after the fact is so ludicrous- but I do.  My arm is stinging, my left adductor is pulled and I took a hard poke to the left ball of my foot.

I'm so stinking pleased.

I'm sitting in the picnic shelter, swinging my legs and thinking how I should go golf as clearly it's my day for a hole in one.

My feet don't touch!  Teehee!

After the fall, I laughed.  I had forgotten the golden rule of trail running:  pick up your feet. 

I was able to run the next two miles.

 Gleeful.  Ridiculous and gleeful.

 My cool resting spot:)

Lots is swirling around me...many things I hope go my way.  Some I have control of.  Some I do not.

Soooo...

I'm gonna just focus on what I can control.  I can't control others, nor would I wish to.  I'm going to figure out me.

 This was an accidental selfie.  Kinda cool, isn't it?

So I'm heading north to Prescott.

 And I'm so happy.

I actually feel better after exercise.