and then you woke up and you were old.

its been sneaking up on me for awhile now.

for starters, i still own several pairs of flare jeans, and  its downright embarrassing wearing anything abercrombie.

you know. 

its when you look in the mirror and all you can see are wrinkles staring back at you.  i swear it wasn't even 5 years ago that it never even occurred to me i would have to think about having wrinkles.  now, i tear out those botox ads with a fervor  (not really, it was more for effect).

no matter how you slice it or dice it, i'm getting old people.

and there's nothing like living in SLO among beautiful college girls a night on the town to remind you just how old you are.

when lealah decided to have her birthday at sebastians or mission grill or native or whatever its called, i thought, okay-- downtown slo, time to step up my game. as in i might have to tear my lounge wear off and slap on the ol bra to make my appearance.  so i brought out my A game, a 'high and tight' black and white number i got in vegas last february.  as i was checkin myself out in the mirror before i left, i'll admit i was feelin pretty good.  college smollege.  i'll show those fine young thangs a thing or two what this ol coug can bring.

the night started off mellow.  after all, we were possibly the only people actually downtown in a bar before 10 pm.  we had a nice, mellow dinner and then made our way to the frog and peach.  now let me just remind you all that in my day i was no stranger to the downtown scene.  let's just say I'm pretty sure Jay Z was thinking of me when he wrote, 'i'm gonna run this town tonight.'  heck, back in the day, they knew my name at reggae night and 80's night at mothers... let's just say, the circle formed around my friend emily me if you know what i mean.  anyhoo, apparently times had changed cuz when we got to the frog and peach i realized a few things had changed... one of which wasn't that disgusting musty beer sweat mold smell that permeates from the bar, but what had changed was that i looked around and realized i was quite possibly the oldest person there... besides the friends i was with-- they are waaaaay older than me.  suddenly i started to feel really self conscious... it took everything in me not to ask the young college girl in the bathroom how old she thought i was... mostly cuz i probably would have started crying and then she'd laugh with her friends about how that old washed out mom was trying to get in touch with her younger days.  and although i overcame that, it didn't stop me and lealah from cornering a young bob dylan hipster sort of lad with a fake accent into telling us how old he thought we were.  when he said, 'i guess 30,' we were naturally very offended, cuz you know that was a conservative guess, i mean he probably thought we were 40!  how horrible is that?!  anyway, to spite his disinterest in us old bags, lealah mentioned to him that she used to be in a band (true) and that i had an incredible voice (false).  i then felt inclined to take it one step further and confess i made it to the 16th round of american idol'  (false). who wants to be my best friend now, regardless of my age???  you guessed it... little gyspsy hispster does.  he literally could not get enough of my stardom.  i played it super cool, told him it was a few years back, and i couldn't tell him much about it cuz of confidentiality agreements.   lealah graciously told him i literally had the voice of aretha franklin in a skinny white girls body (so false).  it was all fine and dandy til lealah left to talk to someone else and i was stuck with this tween all up in my grill. suddenly i couldn't go on with the lies when it was just me and him, so i abruptly left telling him my baby was crying or something...

after our rendezvous at the peach, we thought 'hey we're not getting any younger, why don't we go dancing?!'  cuz nothing says you are to old to be in a bar as breakin out the robot to songs you've never heard in your life.  however, it was at this juncture, that the night finally threw us a bone.  you see, we weren't old anymore....  cuz we saw this:

that's right, they are def 'in their 40's' dancing even worse than us and wearing light denim flare jeans with copious amounts of jeweled stitching (always a dead give away).  if the night had a redeemer it came in that sweet couple. it was shortly after this revelation, i realized my work here was done. i suddenly had an overwhelming urge to be in sweats on my couch eating ice cream with my husband.  if we hurried we could catch most of SNL... and get enough rest to enjoy the best part of every day... waking up to the 3 most beautiful babies in the world.  i guess it was then i realized getting old isn't so bad.  as much as i long for a wrinkle free face and a non grey haired head, i think the trade off is worth it if it means the dude taking me home that night makes really cute babies... which he does... very well i might add.

so downtown slo, i know it was just another night to you, but to me it was a huge awakening. although i don't still got it, thanks for showing me i actually have ALL i  need right here in sweet little los osos.

if i could turn back time

its funny how all of your kids are born your 'baby' and somehow each one of them retain that name regardless of their age or birth order.  all 3 of my kids are my baby... yet if i get right down to it, i actually do have a real baby.  many of you know her as the cutest baby in the world, and it pains me to say that that baby is turning 2.

she's actually trying to not be a baby anymore.

and that is probably the saddest thing in the whole world.

every morning when she comes into our bed i get anywhere from 30 seconds to up to 7.5 minutes next to her.  its a time where i'm transported back to those first few weeks with her.  a time where i literally could not get enough of the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin against mine and her big blues staring back at me.  a time where she was small enough that it wasn't to far fetched to lay her on my tummy and pretend she was back inside me.  there's nothing in this world that makes you feel as alive as having life within you.

some mornings she babbles non stop, other mornings she doesn't say a word.  in both instances i pray a quick prayer that if god could just put her back in my tummy or freeze time just this one day that i would never ask for anything else again.

i remember when i was so scared to have a second child.  i was so scared that i wouldn't be able to love him as much as my first.  i couldn't comprehend that god would double my love, not cut it in half.  surely bringing a third into the mix would really compromise the love, but instead i think he didn't just multiply it by 3, i think it got multiplied by 33.  my mind can barely grasp what will happen when number 4 fly's in.

so how can i sum up this final baby girl of ours?  i'll start by saying, her face will bring a smile to the hardest heart.  currently she is standing on top of a 6 ft ladder.  in so many ways, she's everything lily and ozzy are not.  she's outgoing, wants to be held by everyone, loves attention and praise and is actually really loud.  she can't sit still for more than 11 seconds, and literally has never even watched more than 8 minutes of television or a movie at one time.  i can't believe i ever even questioned having a third child.  she loves mornings alone with ozzy full of trampolines and slides, and adores afternoons full of babies and tea parties with lily.  she's the closest i've ever had to perfection.  i miss her when she naps, and giddily anticipate her arrival into our bed every morning.

i literally cannot get enough of her.

so if a picture is worth a thousand words.... here's 3 trillion for ya.

happy birthday baby girl.  you will always be my first and last.

for the love of coco

*** update***  thank you all so very much for praying.  if you're wondering if God has answered them, i would have to shout a resounding yes!  two weeks ago, coco had her first 'clean' head scan in over 18 months... its seriously crazy.  her words to describe the results were to beautiful not to post-- 'i arrived to the appointment wearing a long, bright red dress.  i figured it couldn't hurt to look hopeful.  i waited in my oncologist's office sitting on danny (her husband's) lap.  i sat anxiously awaiting, it had been a long time since he'd been able to give good news, so in some ways i was braced for the worst.  i heard him approaching and i turned to greet him as he paused in the doorway.  he looked up and said, 'well, i've got some good news.'  i literally fell to the floor weeping, red dress and all.  it was the best day i've had in a long time!'  so as you can imagine these last few weeks have been filled with incredible gratitude, humility and just downright thankfulness to the God who can and will heal!  coco is continuing her chemo, so please, please continue to pray for her.  she has these scans every few weeks, and though we won a battle, we have not won the war.  so please, again, i implore you keep on praying!  IT'S WORKING!!!



i have a friend who has cancer.  

i never knew i hated cancer so much.  but now i can tell you that with all my heart i hate it.  i hate what it is, where it came from, what it does to people who love those affected, and even more what it does to the people themselves.  i hate that they have to live in fear.  from scan to scan, from waiting room to waiting room, from specialist to specialist.  little do all these doctors and nurses know, that these cancer patients are hanging on every. single. word.  how its delivered, inflections in the voice, lack of or too much eye contact.  all of it they have to bundle up in a little package and leave.... only to unwrap and examine and analyze it until the next appointment.

my first recollection of her was a smiling face with a mess of curly blond hair.  she exuded a confidence and warmth that few people are blessed to be born with.   i knew her as danny's new girlfriend.  i knew she worked at slo brew, was a massage therapist and a whole barrel of laughs.  years went by and i would run into very sporadically.  at sushi, walking downtown, and then finally one day at our OB's office.  if i'd ever talked to her before i couldn't remember, but that sunny june day she told me she was due any day with their first.  a girl.  i was 4 months off from delivering my third, also a girl.  we congratulated each other and wished each other luck.  it wasn't until a few months later after i had settled into life with 3 that my friend erin called to tell me that there was something wrong with danny's wife's eye. 'like what?'  i asked innocently.  'like it might be cancer.  she has to have surgery.'  heavy i thought.  i'll pray for her.  and i did, but only a few times.

never in a million years would i have thought a year and a half later she would be one of my  very closest friends.  a girl i break bread with every monday night as we dig into god's word.  a girl i have fasted and prayed for with a fervor only god could give me.  a girl that inspires and humbles me in her insatiable hunger for all things jesus.  a girl who loves her own baby girl in a way that makes me shudder when i think of the ungratefulness i sometimes have with my own babies.  a girl that every day has to swim in a seemingly endless ocean of anxiety called what if.  she's 34 years old.  her daughter is 2.


after the thing with eye was straightened out we all felt relieved.  life went on for all of us until the next scan.  when they found tumors near her brain, everyone sobered up.  she emailed me out of the blue saying she knew i had a bible study and would we pray for her, and maybe could she come sometime.  i emailed her back and told her we already were praying and will continue too and yes, please come.  i didn't hear anything for another couple months.  the surgery had gone well, and radiation was to begin.  when it came back for the second time, lealah told me we needed to go to her.  we needed to lay hands on her and pray.

two weeks later, on new years day, we gathered in her home for a session of prayer i like i have never experienced.  we prayed and cried and repented and anointed one another for 3 hours straight. this was undoubtedly the stuff acts was made of.  this was surely what god has intended for us to do more than once in a lifetime. we prayed with all our hearts and i was sure god would heal her.  he didn't.  not yet anyway.  she died to herself that day and truly became alive in christ.  i rejoiced with her a few months later at her baptism.  when you see someone who needs jesus like we need air, you start to see the world a little differently.

the last few months have been a roller coaster of highs and lows.  more lows than highs and its getting harder. i feel satan wanting to crush my less than mustard seed.  i feel him infringing on my faith to move mountains and tumors.  i feel him suffocating me and suffocating her by depriving of us hope.   my friend has cancer.  but cancer doesn't have her.

so it's when we sit in the waiting room as she gets strapped to a table and waits as her tumors are ionized, and i'm barely able to keep from smashing the tv as hoda and kathie lee sample the latest sangria recipe that i know i'll just  have to grit my teeth.  i'll smile and i'll take her hand and walk into the sunshine, because today that's all we really have.  and for now, that's going to have to be enough.

whoever you are, wherever you are, please pray.  not just now, but every  single day.  please pray that god would heal coco.  once and for all.  and so when i post again about her healing you will know that you were part of that.  that god heard your prayers and petitions.  please, i beg you.  i know this can work.  for the love of coco, i implore you. pray.

let 'the help' help you.

unless you have been hiding under a rock for the last year, chances are you've either read or seen the movie, the help by kathryn stockett. i, like all my white mommy friends have read the book and really enjoyed it. i've yet to see the movie, but there's no doubt i will cry at the beauty and injustice of it all. this book is so much the rage that at least once a week i'll see someone post on fb, 'looking for a great book, any suggestions?' and nine times out of ten, the first comment is 'the help, i loved it!'
the more i'd see these fb posts and hear everyone talk about how great the book was, something in me started to rumble. maybe its just my inclination toward anti-social behavior, or maybe i started to really examine why everyone loved this book so damn much. i remembered enjoying reading it, i thought it was really well written, but best book ever?-- not by a long shot. with that being said, i want to emphasize my hesitation to 'criticize' the book itself. as a wannabe novelist, i can appreciate how extremely difficult it would be to put a book of that level together. it was entertaining, heart wrenching and just plain well-written. a page turner in a john grisham meets secret life of bees sort of way-- simple enough to follow, yet rich and complex in that it was about a subject matter i knew very little about.

as i began to wade through what was troubling me about everyone's enthusiasm about the book, i realized a few things. first off, i realized that it was a veiled way for us white women to take a stand against racism. hindsight is 20/20 and since all of us should know that treating african americans the way we did was totally and completely wrong, this is our opportunity to make it known that we would have been different. perhaps we would have been the 'skeeter' of the group. we would have known better. which is totally crap, and anyone who thinks differently is lying to themselves. or better put, in the words of my wise husband, 'i think it is odd and largely irrelevant for us to create a sense of empowerment for ourselves as it were with regard to how we would have been different…the ‘would have/should have/could have’ thought process, and discussion for that matter means absolutely nothing…unless we are simply seeking to delude ourselves. what matters is now—if our sentiments about that time can impact us now, then that is progress…if all we want to do is feign superiority over a time and people portrayed in a book we are more lost than found.'
boom.

what it comes down to is that the help is a simplistic way for us to look at racism in the past tense.  it allows us to become infuriated with what once was, when the reality is, the once was is really the 'still is,' more often than not.   a super duper smart blogger put it this way by comparing the help to a controversial cake she saw where there were two unicorns--the white unicorn was all pretty with rainbows fighting a black unicorn with flames all over it, 'You know why everyone is up in arms about a unicorn cake? Because it’s safe and it doesn’t mean anything. Because you can feign indignation about something as trivial as sugar and fondant. Because you get to create a distraction with a big old mess of a cake that has some “racially problematic imagery” and that right there is where your concern for and discussion of race end.  Keep talking about cake in the vacuum of mostly white communities. You’ve proven the old proverb wrong. Eat your cake, people. Down it to the last crumb. Tomorrow, you can have it again. Trust me. It will still be there. The racism, that is.  We can talk about race in a real way or we can talk about cake. I’m choosing the former.'

let me reiterate, i am no expert on race. in fact my experience is so incredibly limited. i am white (except when i try and be latino and everyone laughs at me), my husband is super white (if such a thing exists) and i have blond children which really seals the deal. i grew up in SLO which is like 95% white and have lived in only a handful of places, all of which boast similar statistics. the only thing i really have is the 5 formative years i spent with jon carter as my mom and i's housemate. it was then that i realized how alive racism still was, yes even in sweet little SLO.  it wasn't easy for me to write this blog, i knew it would likely piss off frustrate a lot of people.   but b reminded me when he said, 'you should totally blog about it.  people read your blog, we are going to have an ethiopian son. racial issues will be part of our life forever.' so with that said, i want to emphasize that i'm not faulting anyone for liking the book, i'm just trying to help myself and hopefully some of you recognize that there is a bigger issue at stake.  racism is still a huge problem and i want to be held accountable for what i am doing to aid in it, not just sit around and talk about in the past tense in the 'vacuum of my white community.'

thoughts?

if only i had done cheer, then maybe i wouldn't be such an a-hole about it

when *alyssa* first approached me about the possibility of lily trying out for the central coast elite cheer team, she might as well have told me she had baby unicorns for sale in the back of her truck.  i was honestly that shocked.  i tried to hide my smirk and feign interest as she went on and on about what a great program it was and how she has had her eye on lily for awhile and how much fun she would have and blah blah blah.  i nodded politely as i inwardly wondered where she got her hot pink nike frees (don't be surprised if you see me in a pair in the near future)  and whether or not she was naturally blond.  i left with a thick packet of papers, made some jokes to my friends about it, and pretty much forgot all about it.

it's not that i hate cheerleading, its just that i hate cheerleading.  okay, so maybe i don't hate it as much as i just don't understand it.  which is typically defined as ignorance.  and in this case, ignorance, truly was, bliss.  my limited experience with cheer was the four we had in high school, who as my shooting guard described, 'made it really difficult to hear coach telling us what play to run in the huddle.'  now don't get me wrong, i'll take any fans i can get, and the cheerleaders themselves were just fine, in fact i'm close friends with a couple of super hot, former high school cheerleader sisters today. its just never what i would have imagined for my  own daughter.  
which, really is very stupid if i think about it.  cuz if i really thought about it, knowing what i know about lily, the real question is how could she not do cheer?  yet with my pride still raging, i tossed the cheer packet aside and resolved not to discuss it any further.  i was content with lily's progress in gymnastics, she seemed to really be making some strides lately, why mess with a good thing?  well, you mess with a good thing when you hear your 6 year old telling friend and foe alike that she's starting cheer.  and then a week later, you're hanging poolside and hear your phone ring and recognize the number but can't place it and take a chance on answering it.  lo and behold, alyssa's sweet alpha phi voice melodiously asks if we've given any more thought to cheer.  maybe it was the margarita talking (yes it was noon on tuesday, don't judge me. i was at the elks)  but i decided to be honest with her.  i told her how i just wasn't sure, cuz i played sports (wrong thing to say) and i just wasn't sure about the time and money commitment.  after she ripped me a new one about how much cheer was a sport and guilt tripped me into just letting lily try it, i dutifully conceded.  

as i pondered how i was going to break the news to brandon, i realized a few things about how vainglorious i was being.  i realized if it had been ANY OTHER sport, i would have dropped everything to make it happen. i would have sold stock to pay for it, spent my weekends traveling with the team, figured out ways to get lily to and from practice-- whatever it would take, cuz sports are really that important to me.  the more i thought about it, the more i realized what a hypocrite i was being.  how can i really encourage my child to be an individual and think for herself and instill confidence in her making her own decisions, when i'm the one dictating what she can and can't like, or worse what is or isn't 'cool.'  that's crappy parenting, and i blow it enough to know that i can't blow it on something so glaringly obvious.  the right thing to do was to give lily a chance at cheer and support her whole heartedly in it.

so when tuesday finally rolled around and i broke the news that today was the day to try cheer, she looked right at me and told me she just wanted to stick with gymnastics.  shocked as i was, my heart lept with joy as i thought, god must be on my side!  i was faithful in giving it a chance and he shut the door.  i was ready to let it die, but my conscience pricked me.  i had to talk this thing thru with her.  and wouldn't ya know, before i knew it, i was practically begging her just to try it.  begging might be an overstatement, but you get it.  my change of heart was surprising to even me.  next thing you know, lily dials in the perfect cheer outfit, kisses me goodbye and heads out with the team.  i watched her off and on long enough to know that she was really enjoying herself.  and like the good coach she is, alyssa came to chat with me a bit before practice ended.  she was sweet, and gracious and told me that its been hard to get people to understand what cheer really is.  and for those of you like me making flash judgments -- it really is a combination between gymnastics and dance.  they learn choreographed routines and incorporate tumbling and dance.  when done right, its actually pretty bad ass.  as for my concern/lily's absolute delight in the amount of make up they have to wear, alyssa easily explained to me that 'its so the judges can see their faces.'  what?  just when i was starting to like her.  does that even make sense?  anyhow, i digress.  the talk went well, and just when i was starting to maybe get on board, we got to the ol price point.  i basically came away realizing that i need to be a venture capitalist to afford cheer.  yet as i sat there watching her smiling and well, learning cheer, i realized even if its only for today, it was worth it.  the clock hits 5:30 and she comes bounding over to me and says, 'mom, i loved it. i really, really loved it.'  finally, i did something right.

*names have been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent*

2011 Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile

This:

...is why I prefer to do this:

I peeled off my jacket at 5:55 and handed it to Heeva's dad. Heeva, Jim, and I stood near the front of the lineup which was loosely gathered around what was assumed to be a starting line.

7000 ft. Lake on the right. Blaring spotlights, and generator on the left, buzzing crowd at our back...no gun, no siren. We caught the countdown as it rounded '4' and the RD shouted 'go' over the PA system which was competing with the generator. As is typical, a small pack explodes out the gate and starts churning 7's down the flat fire road leading up the north side of the lake. Some people around me bite--Heeva and I resist the urge, I more so than he. It isn't but a minute until the last glimpses of his platinum locks are out of sight.

2011 Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Run 50K & 50 Mile start from George Ruiz on Vimeo.

Going from a cold start to the time when I feel warm typically takes 30 minutes, but the fact that the start is a mile on flat certainly helps. We hit the single-track trail up to Marlette lake; 4 miles, +2100 ft. I tuck in behind a guy keeping a mellow but honest pace and we run comfortably in line. I notice he is running with a small evian water bottle and adidas basketball shorts, simple. People burn a lot of energy trying to get by on the left only to make the pass and then slow down--"odd" passes through my mind. Evian and I pass them a couple miles later and I never see them again. We crest the basin that encircles Marlette lake (7823 ft) and a small group of us find a good downhill gear and crank off some good miles down to the fire road that runs north on the east side of the lake. I put off that first gel until my conscience gets the better of me...at 60 minutes I give in, my mental timer resets to 45 minutes for number two. The trail follows a small creek that feeds Marlette on the north side and hits an honest little climb that puts us up on the south end of the sub-alpine meadow that Hobart Aid resides in. It's a beautiful place to be in the morning.

Small Course Map. Large map can be found  here.

Pulling into Hobart aid (mile 6) I'm feeling pretty good--that aside from the fact that "California Girls" is playing entirely too loud on some misplaced stereo. The station is set up tits. Jeeps, tents, trucks, stereo's....it's a way-point now, later its impact will change, especially for the 100 milers. Apparently Hobart likes a theme; this year it's Pirates--pirates. I am excited for the year when it's Hooters, mostly cuz I like their wings.

I water and get back on it. My stomach starts to rebel a little, which strikes me as odd because I (almost categorically) never have stomach problems...unless it's 105 and I'm in Pozo with Dube-n-Dusty...

Right out of Hobart we round an east facing slope and are given a quarter mile on snow, it's novel. The short climb up this snow field puts me up in a cloud and the temp drops significantly--it's a good thing I have a pelt. I stay warm enough. The next section of trail is stellar; we pass Marlette Peak, we traverse north along trail and crest what I am told is Harlan Peak before hitting a bitchin' downhill to Twin Lakes (~mile 11). I put it in gear on the downhill and let gravity take over, it feels good to stretch it out a little...maybe a bit reckless this early on but I have a lot of quads to trash so I figured why not.

On the way to Tunnel from Hobart, Marlette lake in the background.

The quick pace on the downhill really stirs up my insides and pulling into Tunnel Creek Aid (~11.5m) I am needing to take care of some business. Somehow they managed to get a porta-john up here and I am thankful. It isn't exactly a NASCAR pit-stop but whatever. Just as I step out of the john and grab my bottles off the ground,  Thomas (current TRT 50 mile course record holder) pulls into Tunnel after coming up from the Redhouse loop on the front end of his blazing 100 mile trip. "Time to pick it up buddy" he tells me. He looks strong, like he is enjoying this...I laugh, "tell me about it" I respond and make way down the sandy road on my way into the Redhouse loop. My spirits lift a little as my insides finally start to feel better. Another steep downhill awaits, it's relatively technical and I have fun toying with the occasionally muddy footing. The descent into Redhouse is about 1.5miles, we drop about 1600ft to a low point on the course (6800 ft).

Course profile. Redhouse marked by the A after Tunnel. 100 milers do this 2x.

For some reason the Redhouse loop is on some level inspiration for the "A taste of Hell" portion of the TRT race motto. I don't really get it, but then again it's cool down in the valley--lots of water flowing, our feet get wet. I hear that some years it feels akin to Hanoi; maybe that's where the rumors come from. My shoes get river gravel in them along with a little sand. I am moving pretty well through the bottom of the loop and pass quite a few 100 milers who are being judicious with their pacing. I get stoked to see so many crusty old guys--"these guys are living" I remark internally. F-bingo. We start the climb out of Redhouse back up to Tunnel and break into the first sustained hike of the run. This part looked different coming down. I have a good hike and come back into Tunnel (~17.5m) feeling good.

The actual "Red House"...

Next up, Bull Wheel. 3 rolling but generally uphill miles with a fair amount of snow. My switch flips and I go back to feeling mediocre. It's disheartening. The trip to Bull Wheel is more arduous than it should be. This portion of the Rim Trail though is as picturesque as one might imagine--views of Lake Tahoe abound west, Washoe valley in all of its high desert splendor to the east. Turn your head, pick your view; it's stunning. In spite of my roiling insides and lack of sentimentality I think to myself, "I love this". 

I pull into Bull Wheel (~21m) after getting handily passed and dropped by couple of ladies who are moving well...served. I throw down a couple of cups of coke, burnt on gels already. I am determined. Except not 100 meters out of Bull Wheel that familiar feeling comes again and I hike off trail to answer the call...I'm glad that I brought some baby wipes with me. Again I start to feel better and move well over the next 4 miles of rolling trail until we hit the intersection of the Incline Peak trail and bear left...I pickup momentum and start to feel really good. I cruise this downhill noting that I am pretty close to my desired split to get into Diamond Peak Lodge at mile 30. I was shooting for 5:30hrs, given my intestinal setbacks I am happy to note I will probably arrive nearer 5:45hrs. This section of trail is made for a bike; serpentine bermed turns, jumps, perfectly groomed. Parts of it are playful on foot and I ride up the berms but skip the jumps. After a few miles I start to notice the gravel in my shoes and my wet socks but I am intent on hitting my split to Diamond Peak so I ignore it; my family is waiting.

Incline Peak trail dumps us off on the road just above Diamond Peak Lodge. We stopped here yesterday on our way to packet pickup just to have a look--there were some people getting set to hike up the trail for a beaver dam tour. We pass close to Incline Creek as it flows out to the lake I take note of what I guess are beaver dams; I think it's the first time I have ever seen a beaver dam. I pass a couple of families out enjoying the midday warmth and get excited to see my kids. Just down the road from the trail head the orange arrows on the road point us toward the Lodge. I round a row of cars and see Holly and the kids bouncing with excitement, I want to bounce too and as I approach them I hold back tears. I don't really know why I had the urge to cry but it came and went after I passed some salty kisses around. My mom is snapping pictures and I hand my dad a water bottle and ask him to dump a redbull in it. Holly brought a gear bag I had packed the night before and I sit down to clean my socks out, "Why don't you just change your shoes and socks" she says...right, my brain is working slightly sub par at this moment. Heaven comes in the form of dry feet as I pull on my Peak II's, the laces creak as I pull them tight--must be that Montana de Oro dust. My mom puts more sunscreen on my shoulders--it's nice being able to ask something to get done and just let it happen. Holly hands me a turkey/avocado wrap and I scarf it down, the fat tastes right, washing it down with redbull seems like a good choice. I jam my pockets with 6 more gels. We walk over to the aid station, refill water, say our goodbyes and I step off the deck at the Lodge and begin the climb.

Head down, feeling recharged. The longest 2 miles on the planet coming up.

I had heard stories about the climb from Diamond Peak Lodge back up to Bull Wheel. ~1800ft, 1.9 miles. It's hard to fathom just how steep it is. Maybe a mile of it is runnable. The rest is laughable. I fall into a hike and I see Scott's wife come trotting back down the trail. She hiked with him for a bit and indicated he was not too far ahead, Scott is doing the 100 mile--she thinks he's going too fast. Scott's reputation as a hammer when it comes to the ultra-hike is not understated. I put it in gear to try and catch him so we can run together for a bit. No dice. 1.9 miles, 49 minutes. I didn't figure this into my pacing plan.

This is the climb up from Diamond Peak Lodge....I shamelessly poached this picture off of this guys blog, but since I  somehow happened to be in it I figured it was cool...don't get mad Greg...somehow I think it might be cool.

I get to the top where the end of the chairlift waits mockingly and attempt to shake my legs out. My quads are hammered from the run down to the lodge, my hamstrings are firing from the climb. I hobble to get going and barely dance down the 200meter decent to Bull Wheel (~32m). "That worked me" I tell the guys drinking beers casually in the wind...they ask if I want to sit down for a minute, "no....no thanks". I grab a couple orange slices looking for sugar. Slowly I start to move and things loosen up a bit...a little faster and it isn't long until my body feels like it's working again. The climb took its toll though. Next time I am buying a lift ticket.

A couple of 100 milers I passed on the climb up to Bull Wheel pass me as I am trying to recompose just outside the aid-station (see that pic above--that's them behind me). I let them go and try to work the kinks out. Ok, time to go. I head off down the trail and run into them again, I am happy to have some heels to hang on to. We run together back to Tunnel at a nice pace. It's nice to listen to their conversation. The lady in front is talking about how she did Hardrock a couple weeks back. My balls all of the sudden feel smaller than usual.

We cruise into Tunnel (~34.5m) and they are taking their time. I water, throw down a couple cups of coke and head out. I know what's coming. That nice descent from Hobart to Tunnel earlier on is replayed in reverse. I mix a lot of hiking in with a moderate pace on the flats and downs. Coming over the trail back to Hobart is a lot of snow. I catch a guy doing the 100 who's positive attitude is contagious, he's in no hurry--he's hooting and hollering, taking pictures of everything in sight; on hindsight who could blame him (turns out he's the guy I poached that pic from above). We get to the back of snow drift that has a 10ft drop down to the trail, the steps that are cut into the face of drift look dangerous. The Hooter plops down on his ass and slides down, of course I am compelled to do the same. We smile and laugh together. It's a nice respite from thinking about salt, water, gel, time...after regaining our feet he keeps his hike up, I pick my feet up and try to capitalize on some good vibes.

I move into Hobart (~40m) knowing that the high point on the course is coming. We bear south-east out of Hobart and spend the next 3 miles going from 7800ft to 9200ft. There's a couple of decent snow drifts along the way once we climb above the tree line. The route starts up the east side of Snow Valley Peak and before summitting circles around to the west face, we traverse a couple miles south along the west side of the ridge. Lake Tahoe dominates the view to the west. The wind makes this portion of the run uncomfortable. The south side of the traverse leads to a quarter mile downhill section of trail that leads to Snow Valley aid. Only Boy Scouts would man this aid station and be having fun. It's windy, cold, and less than half way over. I fill one water bottle, throw down some mountain dew, and follow a giant swedish guy out of the tents back into the wind.

Mile 43. 7 to go. All downhill. Ikea sort of flits down the trail ahead of me, oddly he runs with his arms down by his sides--there's a lot of large rocks and I am sort of worried for him but he seems comfortable so I retreat back to my own issues.

the start of the descent down to the finish....7 miles down. Lake Tahoe facing.

My quads are talking to me but I ignore them because at least I can get a good rhythm and it doesn't mean I am redlining. Ikea lets me pass and for the next 45 minutes I battle the voice inside asking to walk. Below the tree line things warm quickly and I eventually pass a guy who is obviously not feeling well, I notice he has a 50k number on...he's been out for a long time. I encourage him and tell him he's almost there--maybe 3 more miles. I should have given him a gel; but that doesn't dawn on me until I am drinking a recovery beer.

Surprisingly I run into Dusty. He's running back on the course to catch a runner he is supposed to be pacing for the 100. She's apparently not feeling well and is in need of assistance. Dusty runs 15 miles back to get her, then they short cut it back to the car...yet another reason ultra's are awesome. Camaraderie.

I am determined to push from here on out. For the first time I look at the total elapsed time on my watch. I'm discouraged but not surprised that I am an hour off my goal. The final 1.7 miles around the east shore of Spooner Lake is amazing...and flat. The aspen trees are almost glittering in the late afternoon sun, this might be the best section of trail that I have ever run.

rounding Spooner Lake, you can just make out the white tent at the finish through the trees at left.

Rounding the lake I occasionally look over at the tents on the shore indicating the finish line and they never seem to get any closer...5 minutes I tell myself. The trail makes a quick step up and we run 100meters on a fire road before dropping to the right down closer the lake on a small section of single track. The finish comes into focus I see my parents standing in the scrub along the side of the trail. There's Holly...there's the finish.

my wonderfully patient family...

-done.

There's probably more to say but blogging is approaching tedium on my part...so, thanks for reading my long winded account of one day. In close, it was a very special event in a very special place, surrounded by some very special people. 

Brandon

amazon.com for president.

so i wanted to take a minute to fill you in on why amazon might be the best company ever. if you know me at all, you know that i'm pretty die hard amazon. i've been a prime member for years, and chances are i've ordered something for you to capitalize on the free shipping. well, my faith in amazon became even greater when b got me a kindle (seeing as how it's one of the greatest products ever invented). i was a bit reluctant at first being the paper snob i am, but in no time at all i wasn't lookin back. so, it would come as quite a tragedy when life with my kindle ended so abruptly.

i wrote this email to amazon.com. it explains a bit about what happened...

Dear Kindle Gods,
Here's the deal... My husband gave me a kindle last year for my 31st birthday. I didn't even know I wanted one! But, I'm an avid reader and a mother of 3 kids under 6. Little did I know, I'm as prime of a candidate as they come. I got my first book and the leather black cover with the book light and seriously my world changed forever! I loved every second with it. Just recently someone gave me a paperback book to read and it was awful having to turn pages and fuss with a book light after months of my little black (kindle) book. I couldn't believe what a snob I had become. The next morning in my haste, I swore off all non kindle books forever. In that same instant, I grabbed my kindle off my nightstand and threw it in my laundry basket (full of darks) with every intention to get a new book that morning. However, this never happened, cuz as I began to head downstairs, the baby started crying and I got distracted by breakfast, cartoons and saying goodbye to my husband. An hour or so later I remembered the laundry I had to get done and hastily threw it in the washer.... kindle and all! It wasn't till the baby went down for a nap that I remembered I wanted to get a new book and I couldn't find my kindle. A pang of terror struck me as I remembered putting it in the laundry... I couldn't have! Sure enough I could and I did... Needless to say, my kindle was not able to recover from such an episode... I tried the ol bag of rice trick, but it really looks as though the screen is cracked... It's such a sad, sad story.
So here's the deal. I love amazon with all my heart. I've been a prime member for years, I don't buy anything, anywhere without checking amazon first. Not to mention I'm basically a kindle rep-- based on my recommendation alone, 5 of my friends have bought one... one was trying to get the nook--(aghast) but I steered her on the one true and right path! Times are tight for everyone, and I don't ever do this, but I really loved that kindle... I'm just an average smokin hot stay at home mom, with nothing to gain but begging for a little mercy from the amazon kindle powers such as yourselves. If you can find it in your heart (or the warehouse:) to possibly slip one in the mail (used or new), I will be eternally grateful. I'll even pimp you guys out on my blog-- not that you need it-- after all you are amazon.com, but hey who can say no to a little free advertising right?
So with all that said, I don't even know if this is the right department for such situations, but if there's anyway you could send it to someone who might care, I would love you forever.
Thanks so much for your time.
Eternally yours,
Holly Rodgers


there you have it. i laid it all out, and not two hours later i got this...


Hello,

I'm sorry to hear about the trouble you've had with your Kindle, but we will need to speak with you on the phone in order to process a replacement for your Kindle.

You can reach us by phone directly and toll free from many countries by clicking the Contact Us option in the right-hand column of our Kindle Support pages at:

http://www.amazon.com/kindlesupport

When you visit our website and select Contact Us, click on the "Phone" tab, enter your number, and we’ll call you right back.

Contacting us through the website allows you to verify security before a call is placed and ensures we have your account information ready when we call you. If your country isn’t listed or you’re unable to take advantage of the Contact Us feature, you can call us directly at 1-877-453-4512 or 1-206-922-0844 (if you're calling from outside the U.S.).

We hope you can call us soon so we can help solve this problem quickly.

Thank you for your recent inquiry. Did I solve your problem?

If yes, please click here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/help/survey?p=A1HLA8Z7DLVUQB&k=hy

If no, please click here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/help/survey?p=A1HLA8Z7DLVUQB&k=hn



Ravi V



well, ravi, you did not solve my problem, but hell yes i'll call your toll free number.  lo and behold, i explained my case to a certain young man called 'joby' and tuesday afternoon i will be the new recipient of a brand new kindle.  can you even believe it?

they totally did not have to do this.  i took a chance and told the truth (i was super tempted to lie and say the screen just cracked- knowing they would replace it) but instead i admitted it was totally my fault and they didn't owe me anything....  and they, or god, or whoever honored that.  my faith has been restored in big corporations (not that it was ever really in question), but seriously super cool. 

so that's it for now.  just wanted to tell you guys this awesome story.  i'll be back to reading tuesday, which likely means less blogging... but keep checking back cuz a certain ultra-runner i share a bed with is working on a special guest blogging appearance right here at holdmama!  so stay tuned.  and happy reading.