This old house

God I should have started the program. I would be rich right now and have someone else doing all the work for me.

But really - I kinda like doing stuff on the house. Once I start it's hard for me to stop and very rewarding in the end.

Our house was built in the 40s. I love that it's SOLID for the most part. The walls are block/metal lath/stucco. Drilling into them to hang a picture is a day's job in itself. I have had to explain the construction to some of the electricians and others who have worked on our house as they are not familiar with walls that aren't drywall stapled on to 2x4s. It's been an education to learn about the house's character and idiosyncrasies. And I think learning about your house and doing things to it and for it are never ending. Take note Jayne & Benny !

The house has no basement so it sits on a cement slab. When the walls were added, the baseboards were built into the wall. The only way I can explain it is to show you a picture.



The "baseboard" is smooth cement and was a red cement like the floors. Old houses in Tucson have great red cement floors and I wish I could have salvaged mine once I unearthed it from years of asbestos tile, vinyl tile and carpet. But it was too cracked and stained and far-gone, so we had saltillo put on instead.
I have over the years started scraping off the layers of paint people had covered the cement baseboards with and finally am continuing the project today. Cause Jayne & Benny were getting way ahead of me in the remodeling game! (JK!)



After scraping off all the paint, I really needed to re-paint so bought some masonry paint at good old home depot and started taping like crazy.



I finished the bathroom, hallway and most of the living room-but still have to move the piano and some other large furniture to finish. I figure I have about 15-20 linear feet yet to scrape and tape and paint.



There is some touch up work to do, but it sure "feels" better and is much easier on the eyes. God I love blue paint tape!



What prompted all this besides Jayne & Benny doing more remodeling than we are? Well, we have finally decided to stain the concrete floors on the addition we had built. Seven years ago!



The guys spent all morning washing the floor and removing any oils from cleaning fluids, bare-feet and dirt. Tomorrow they start the staining process. I can't wait!

In the mean time, all furniture has been crammed into other rooms. I am sleeping in the spare bedroom in the main part of the house. Hubby chose to drive to California to see his son and best friend. Smart man, hmmm?



Some people live like this on a day to day basis. Really. I have seen their homes. yeeesh.

I finished the day with a mile swim and a glass of chardonnay with my tomato soup and chicken/cheese quesadilla.

Happy Thursday!

Why I love coffee

I was probably seven, eight at the most, and it was a very snowy day near Cleveland, Ohio. I was visiting my Grandparents who lived in Lyndhurst. Going to Grandma and Grandpa's house was a real treat as we didn't travel much with four kids and my dad working for the public schools in the late 1950s and early 60s. It was even better that the snow had piled up over the porch almost blocking the doorway so we wouldn't be driving back home tonight. We had to stay overnight. There was that sense of something new and different and exciting about not being able to get back home when you are a kid. Never mind that the cat needed fed, no lights were on at the house, and the water pipes may freeze. We got to spend the night!

Feeling very cozy in my Grandparent's small house with green carpet my sisters and I went to the sideboard and got out the crayons, the black-lined pictures of different song-birds and huddled by the wall where the warm air blew up from the basement below. The adults busied themselves in the kitchen or watched the small black and white T.V. as my sisters and I behaved ourselves and periodically went to the windows to watch the large flakes blow and settle on the drifts covering the yard and road. We could surely dig in them and make snow caves tomorrow if we begged our parents long and hard enough.

There was a knock at the door and there stood the mailman, bundled head to toe in dark blue, ear-flaps down on his hat and big heavy buckled boots covering his shoes. He was invited in to get warm and have a cup of coffee. He gladly accepted.
Off came his snow-covered boots, heavy coat, gloves and hat and the leather mail bag was set by the door. His face was red from the cold but I remember his smile being so wide and appreciative as he was given a cup of freshly percolated coffee.

I wanted to be a part of this- befriending the cold mailman and offering him some reprieve from the harsh weather outside. I wanted to sit and chat with the adults and talk about the weather. After all, I was the oldest girl, so I felt I should be able to participate.
I asked my mom for a cup of coffee too.

Now, not so long ago, it was believed that coffee, if given to children, would stunt their growth, and she made it known to me that day.
I didn't care. I didn't care if I ever grew another inch at that moment. I loved the smell of the ground coffee beans, and still inhale them when I open a bag. I remember going down the coffee isle as a kid in the grocery store and lifting the lid to the grinding machine, just to smell that smell.
My mom got talked into pouring me a small amount of coffee, and added lots of sugar and milk. I inhaled the wonderful aroma in the fine china cup,and took a sip.

I am sure there was cake or cookies that went with the coffee, but I don't remember any of that. I do recall looking out at the accumulating and falling snow, watching red cardinals eat sunflower seeds from the bird feeder, and listening to the soft voices of my Grandparents, my mom and dad and the mailman. And I was completely content and happy.

The smell of coffee brings those memories of long ago, all back to me.

Thirty-eight years ago

I have thought long and hard about what made me take those first running steps as a senior in high school in the spring of 1971, and can't come up with any one specific reason or incident. It was probably a combination of things and the fact that it was the early 70s that fueled my desire to lace up a pair of white Keds sneakers, don grey sweats and try my legs out on the cinder track behind the school that spring.

A few female friends joined me that day and I remember talking to the guy's track coach asking for guidance. He told us to jog around the track four times and that would equal a mile.
I had to walk up the school stairs backwards the next day as my shins hurt so badly.

But it was a start. And the start of something big for me.
Instead of hanging out in study hall I would ask to go to the library and read Sports Illustrated instead. The articles on running were probably few and far between and the big names at the time for men were Frank Shorter, Dave Wottle and of course Bill Rogers. Women who got some press consisted of Nina Kuscsik, Kathy Gibbons, Miki Gorman and Jacqueline Hansen.

Here's a couple of tidbits for you.
In 1972 only eight women ran and finished the Boston Marathon.
In 1977 it was up to 140.

That was the year I ran my very first marathon. The Fiesta Bowl up in Phoenix. I came limping in at 3:55 and never knocked much time off of that in subsequent races. I had no idea how to "train" for a marathon except run high mileage like the pros were doing. I never kept track of how many races I ran (10ks, 15ks, marathons) or what my times were.
I ran because I loved it.
And I ran because I wanted to be faster.

I really never went over 60-70 miles per week as I was teaching full time and didn't have the time or energy.
Long runs were of course on the weekends and consisted mainly of being out on trails somewhere surrounding Tucson.
I liked trails and started hanging with a group who suggested the Grand Canyon crossing, Pikes Peak, Catalina Island Marathon and others.
I of course limited my running while pregnant and upped the swimming when I started feeling like a beached whale.
Injuries and illness took me out at times, but I have continued to run a few miles each week if I can fit it in and if I know it won't contribute to further injury or illness.

Running has taken me places I probably would never have seen were it not for a race/event held there.
It has fulfilled my need to explore and find out what is beyond the next bend or over the hill.
It has been a way to figure things out and wake up my brain and calm me down for a good night's sleep.
It has been a way for me to not worry (too much) about what I eat and how my clothes are going to fit or what my cholesterol levels are going to be.
It has helped give me confidence in situations I would probably have cowered in if I weren't a runner.

If you were to watch me head out the door the three days a week I currently run, the first few hundred yards are not what one would consider "running" by most standards.
I am stiff and sore and yes I am old.
But every once in awhile I have those moments, where I reach full stride, breathing is effortless, joints have become fluid again and I feel like I am flying.
It's the best feeling in the world.

I recently went into a running store for new shoes and complained about my latest injury, a pulled calf muscle.
When I told the owner of the store how long I have been running he said "congratulations".

I really never thought of it that way.

Hopefully there will be thirty-eight more years for me to get out the door and down a road somewhere.

And I thought I actually swam last week.

UNTIL I READ ABOUT HER!

Riding the roads-first of the year.

I had my camera with me the whole way, but could only take pix as we were headed off post- damn wind!

I decided to take a picture of the flag because then I could kind of show how windy it was.



It was supposed to be a two hour ride today, but we cut it short by about eight minutes.

What can I say? I am a wimp! But the season is young and there will be other road rides...it's in the plan!
(Already missing my mountain bike...it's so sturdy in this type of weather!)



We love Fort Huachuca Army Post. I would live there if I could. In the barracks even!

Deer sighted- 9- even before we got on our bikes! Then two more as we started out.

I know it's not a big deal to those of you who live in places like my parents do as they have deer in their yard all the time.
But to us "city folk" it's a real treat to see them, noses in the grass, eating breakfast, looking at us with wide eyes as we silently ride by.

Tomorrow- a bagel walk and a swim. (Calf still healing...it's a bitch to NOT run currently. Blah!)

Hope you all are having a good weekend!

Hurry it up

I want the race season to begin!
I am bored!

I'm over it...kinda.

It was cold and beautiful yesterday morning at the trail head.
I stood around a heater with other runners and chatted about what layers to keep on, what to shed, how popular trail running has become, and met a girl who had just finished the Disney double last weekend I believe it was.



The course was an eight mile out and back and took place on the Arizona Trail, which takes you from the most northern tip of Arizona all the way to Mexico.
Many people have hiked this I am sure and I even read about some guys who mountain biked the whole thing.

Amazing.

We started at 7:30 just as the sun was coming up and by mile two I was peeling off one layer of long-sleeves. I always over-dress. When will I ever learn?



By mile three I was developing a rhythm and my breathing seemed good (I carried my trusty inhaler!), but my left calf started giving me problems. I stopped and tried to stretch it. No go.
I re-tied my laces and stretched again.
Not happening.
I found that my stride was not "normal" and I was changing how I ran to compensate.
Not good.

I turned around at a little over three miles and took my number off, walked back and cheered the other runners on as they passed me.

I took pictures.

I stopped to chat and thank those at the aid stations.

At home a cried a little.

My heart aches to go fast on these winding, beautiful paths.

I used to be able to.

Yesterday I couldn't.



But I have to remember that I still was able to see a trail I was not familiar with and marveled at the beauty that surrounded me.

I have to remember than whatever I do, or don't do, my husband still loves me.

I have to remember to focus on the big picture and back off and heal.

Now....weight room here I come.

Thanks, I needed to get that off my chest.