The Sacrifices We Make

So it's the 4th week of training left before my next scheduled marathon.

52.18 miles on the feet. Tired, but not exhausted. The NY marathon inspired me, with friends who did well, and, the always amusing and awesome Lauren Fleshman's pre-race insight was awesome too.

I sincerely enjoyed a powerbar and skinny vanilla latte before today's dismal half-marathon performance (2:06:27) -- but, honestly, I'm not too upset. They re-routed the course and added an extra half mile up the marin headlands around mile 7. I walked. You know, don't lose the energy in the beginning, save it for the end.

Jen Ran.

She met our goal time. Less than 1:55. Also, she has been in better shape than me on our latest tempo runs, so this is not remotely surprising.

What was surprising (to me) was that by following the ("Save Energy For When You Need It") standard advice, I hit ridiculous traffic of people trying to cross each other on the bridge due the the 1X1 cross-traffic between miles 7.5 and 9.5 or so.

Ouch. 1 person per lane and thousands waiting to cross.

Ugly.

My favorite bay area race, definitely not in its best form for the 10th anniversary.

In hindsight, I should have ran the entirety of their additional hill up. I totally ran downhill (that's how I roll), but the 2 minutes of walking where I only lost about 30 seconds of running time? Yeah, that was probably 50 people who passed me, and then stood there in front of me at the 1X1 intersection no the bridge...

Tick, tick, tick went the race clock.

But, whatever. I am continuing my streak. I've started the US half in November every year since 2005. I love this race, and unless I have a good reason not to be in town (NYM would be a good reason, in my book, but we'll see), I plan to run it every year.

2005: 1:57:06
2006: 1:58:54
2007: 1:58:35
2008: 1:55:54
2009: 2:19:38
2010: DNF
2011: 2:06:37

Also, this year, I suspect there will be many complaints about how poorly the race was organized and run due to the construction re-routes and runner delays due to back-ups on the bridge.

But man, we got a gorgeous November clear sky day in San Francisco. Rain was on the schedule, but not a drop. There are few things more glorious in the world than this course on a beautiful day.

Sure, some stuff could have been done better, but at the end of the day, this race is small, wonderful, and infinitely more pleasant and cool than many of the other SF races with which it doesn't even compete.

And, the last 3 miles are flat, flat, flat. I'd love to say I picked it up and killed it on them. But I didn't. I reserved enough to pass several people on the last hill in Fort Mason at the end, but truly, I should have killed the entirety of the 3 miles, the last mile's cardiovascular performance made it clear that I had it in me. But, either the cold or just general laziness kicked in and I didn't do it.

Overall, I'm thrilled with the weekend (pre-race dinner at Scoma's was delicious!) but I'm disappointed with myself. I'd hoped for a better showing. But given the cold, the course changes, and the fact that I smoked at least 15 people on the final hills into the finish in fort mason, I'm still feeling pretty good about my training.

I can't help it, I'm a bit of an optimist.

Sure, it's scary to finish a 1/2 marathon 4 weeks before the full at 1 minute per mile slower than full target pace. (yikes!) For comparison, my last marathon, where I bonked was at today's pace.

Holy crappy half marathon pace today.

But, I'm just going to regroup. Get over this cold. and I've got the ATL half marathon in my sights now. Healthy to the start line and a good race to help me pick an appropriate goal pace for CIM. That's the goal.

Wish me luck. Onward.

Why I Run

Arvay's most recent post How I Run started me thinking about WHY I run.

Unlike Arvay, I do not run purely for joy. On occasion, it's joyful. And those episodes are wonderful. They definitely hold a special place in my heart and form some of the motivation for heading out the door.

But often, especially now, when I'm pushing the limits of my fitness, running is not joyful at all for me. Instead it's difficult, challenging, and makes me question whether I want to do it at all.

Take last night's strength intervals, for example. The schedule called for 4X2400 at 10 seconds faster than race pace. When I showed up at the track, my legs were tight. I was tired and my running buddy was tired too. We pushed through the first two at 8:13/mile and 8:17/mile, but I couldn't motivate to do the last two. I was fairly certain they would take more out of me than I would get back in terms of fitness (my hamstrings were extra tight and my gait just felt wrong). So, we just just jogged the last 3 miles and called it a day.

If I ran purely for joy, I'm not sure I would have ran at all yesterday. I'm certain I wouldn't have finished the last 3 miles. But, I run for so many other reasons beside joy, too.

I run for discipline. Setting a goal and working towards it in a predictable step-wise fashion reminds me on a daily basis that I can do anything I choose, it's just a matter of follow-through. It also reminds me to be mindful about what I choose, because the follow-through can be time consuming, exhausting, painful, and take time away from other passions in my life.

I run to stay (or get) in shape. I love feeling like I'm taking care of my body. And, I like the way I look and clothes fit when I'm in better shape, too.

I run to stay sane. This is probably the biggest reason I run. I don't have to be on a training plan to run, but one of the biggest benefits of a training plan is that a good one demands enough of me physically that my emotional responses are damped. I have found that I am less prone to anxiety, anger, frustration, and other negative emotional responses when I run. This makes me happier, and a better wife and friend.

Essentially, I run because I feel it makes me a better person.

CIM week -5

The hardest thing about trying to train on a semi-serious training schedule for a marathon?

Life.

I'm hungry. All the time. I'm dropping about 0.5 lbs per week, which is by design. But occasionally, my body revolts against this plan. Yesterday, when we unexpectedly ran into a friend and his younger almost-brother-in-law for brunch after my super-easy recovery run, I was excited to realize I could order an entire extra pizza after everyone was done. Of course the college kid would agree to help me eat it. Sweet college kids. Love their metabolism. Such a metaphor for just how alive they are at that point in their lives.

Not me, though. I'm tired. I just need more sleep. And more breaks. Wah. Wah.

Why? Because I'm overworked, which is good, financially. But I have no one to blame except my boss and it's severe enough these days that it keeps me up with frantic racing thoughts, so it's bad, with respect to insomnia, and how heavy I feel I sit on the good wife/friend/sister/daughter scale.

We're in the middle of some crazy stuff at our house with respect to E's business, our investments, our long term planning (termites? remodel? travel? move?), and you know, just general life stuff.

What was I saying?

Oh, yes. Life. Ain't it grand? Aren't we lucky to have it?

I'm loving my reading challenge and the randomness it's brought to my life. I'm loving my attempt at the most difficult running training schedule I've ever done, even if it does inspire occasional thoughts regarding my own (and my running buddy's) insanity.

Yeah, I cut a few of the shorter runs this week a little short (but adding walking where I could), and, today?

Well, today, I had to be honest. 13 out and back up a mountain with 2275 of elevation change is almost the same as 16 flat. Too bad we didn't schedule it flat since we had 16 on the training calendar.

Overall, my running buddy and I may have called it short (I felt naseous), but we were honest and while running kept the long run at a decent pace (thanks Powerbar Energy Blasts) despite the climbs and descents (which were worse than the Kirkland half, and it's supposed to be a training for next weekend's half...).

So, let's see -- A simple summary.

Isomnia? Annoying. At least last night was just simple insomnia. No anxiety. Just straight up awake at 3 AM. What you gonna do? Nothing but breathe and try to relax. Bad.

Fitness? Clearly Improving. Good.

Long run? Shorter than planned, but impressive elevation performance and credit for not pushing it when no benefits from the training were available. Neutral.

Weekly Mileage: 51.84. Largest weekly volume in my running life. Good.

Reading? Random and more than normal. Good.

Halloween? E's and my 11th dating anniversary. Excellent.

Social and Family life? We've got time scheduled with many folks we care about in the next several weeks/months. It feels good.

Work? Crazy for both of us. But we're career-focused folks in our early to mid 30s. If it wasn't crazy, we'd probably be doing something wrong.

So, overall, not bad at all.

Refugees

People who know me well know that I am a huge fan of Angelina Jolie. I think she's intelligent, beautiful, human, and a *very* powerful woman.

I am always shocked at how much hatred people who have never met her feel towards her. Particularly since I feel a natural affinity and inclination to like her. Recently a friend responded to my surprise at the loathe that many feel towards her with a simple statement, "But isn't that how it always is with powerful women who make it fairly clear that they don't care what people think about them?" A very interesting perspective.

Because of my short book kick, I purchased her book Notes from My Travels (all proceeds go to the UNHCR).

I haven't read a book this difficult to read in a very long time.

The lives of refugees in Africa, Cambodia, Pakistan and Ecuador are unbelievably difficult and painful. War, death, disease, hunger, heat, cold, insects, land mines, lost loved ones, and still smiles and laughter between the tears.

This book describes her missions with the UNHCR to visit with and learn more about refugees. At 25, she took her first mission and put herself directly in a danger zone where aid workers often die. She writes honestly about how difficult it was to see the plight of the refugees, how she couldn't help but feel that she has wasted many of the first world gifts and opportunities she's been given, and how she really knows so little of what truly matters in the world.

I am inspired by Angelina's efforts to make us more aware of the plight of the 20 million refugees in the world. And, I am sad that I was definitely less aware of the reality than I should have been, despite how ugly it is.

Refugees will definitely be on my list of charitable causes going forward.

Sonoma Gluttony and Week -6

I was 1 lb away from high race weight before we left for Sonoma. (woot!)

And yet, just a simple trip to Sonoma later, here I am, 2.8 lbs back from the goal... (le sigh)



It was worth it.

You see that picture? That's what happens when you are lucky enough to be born in the right place and the right time to have the former sous-chef of a Michelin star restaurant (who was there when they were awarded the star) as a childhood friend (best friend's little brother and very good friend of my little brother).

Okay, so you have to be lucky enough to have all of these things happen, and then you have to come visit the hotel attached to his restaurant, and he has to arrange for an "employee-favor" rate/room, and, the next thing you know, the head of front desk guest operations is leaving a hand-written card next to this ridiculous cheese-board.

Just in case you weren't in enough awe, when you show up for dinner with the former sous-chef, at said restaurant, you will be privy to the best treatment and service at a meal you've ever your life. And the discount on the bill will make you cringe because, honestly, you've never left a tip that was 200% of the bill. But, in this case, anything less should be insulting.

Basically, our trip to Sonoma was perfect. Slept in the car while E drove (yay!). Lots of reading (double yay!). No computer or work for at least 30 hours. That's a record for the last 4-5 months. I'm going to try to break it soon. I do love arbitrary goals.

And, in running news, I hit 47.53 miles for the week. Approximately 15 miles more than I did this week last cycle. It includes 5.6 unscheduled extra miles of walking. I dialed a couple of the workouts back, but I actually added unexpected walks in SF, Infineon raceway (hills!), and after the short-cut tempo run such that my overall mileage was higher than expected.

Overall, I'm amused to be high on mileage despite my inability to do 9 miles at race pace. I did 7. Painful Miles. On a treadmill. While trying to watch TV on 6 different channels at the gym. But everything was horrid. When I called it a day, I guiltily walked an extra mile to cool down. It was a strong effort, but nothing close to what was on the schedule.

I'm very interested to see how this all plays out. Part of me thinks this training schedule is insane for any adult with a truly demanding job or family (and gasp, what if you have both?). This part thinks that even my paltry efforts at sort of sticking to it are crazy.

The other part of me knows that while this schedule probably doesn't make sense, I've done more mileage per week than ever before in my life. I'm more fit than I've been in at least 3.5 years. I'm being reasonable about cutting myself slack on the recovery days and just trying to hit quality workouts in a reasonable fashion (even if I have to drop 2 miles from a tempo run).

Did I mention the post-Sonoma gluttony long run was cut from 10 to 6? Yeah. That happened. But it was a non-quality workout, and my hips hurt in the car, so it seemed like I made the right call.

I still hit 47+ for the week.

Wish me well for 51 miles on schedule for this week. I'm definitely in the thick of things, now.

Imposed Structure

So, back in January, suffering from a fit of motivation overload, I picked an actual number for my books goal this year: 30.

A few weeks ago I realized there were only 12 weeks left in the year and I still had 10 books to go.

I did what any goal-oriented lawyer would do -- I figured out how to technically comply with the rules in a way that made the most sense.

First, I went through my pile of books to be read soon and pulled the smaller books to the top. Just like that, all of the big books were pushed to 2012.

Then, I went on Amazon and ordered a bunch of smaller, shorter books that had been on my wish list for a while but I hadn't had the momentum to order.

Finally, I mentioned to Arvay I was looking for books and she promptly sent me a nice bite-sized gem that I'm looking forward to starting tonight.

I get a weird sense of accomplishment out of moving things around to reach arbitrary goals. In some sense, I know that reaching an arbitrary goal is, well, arbitrary.

And, I know that I don't have time to follow my normal patterns and just go through my books-to-be-read pile in order *and* meet my 30 books goal.

I even know that the movement is likely to be zero sum -- next year, I will likely read a lower number of books as a direct result of pushing the big books forward.

Even so, I'm getting a kick out of the idea that I'll be reading a few extra minutes each day and a bunch of stuff that I otherwise wouldn't have gotten to this year (if at all).

I think, often, that's the real value of goals. They help you change. Even if the change is quite small and may not matter at all in the long term. It's very good to remind ourselves that not only are we free to do things differently, we can and will.

CIM, week -7

44.11 miles.

As hoped, I finally did the full 10X800 Yassos. Holy crap that was one of the hardest workouts I've ever done. I'd hoped for 3:45s, but I averaged 3:51s. Supposedly, this is a good high-end estimate of the fastest marathon I could run right now. I'd be *thrilled* with a 3:51. I'm not sure I'm ready to try to hit that, but I'm pleased with the idea that it's an option.

Of course, despite my 44, the training schedule called for 51.

Yesterday I *had* to finish our taxes as it was the last day to send them in after filing for an extension. Unfortunately, due to ridiculousness with E's company's 1065 that I discovered last weekend, what should have been a simple fill-in-one-remaining-blank on our 1040 exercise took me from 8 AM to 12 PM.

Next year, we are committed to hiring a CPA. I sacrificed at least 4 weekend days to our taxes for 2010. Historically, I've hesitated spending the money to have someone else do our taxes. It isn't rocket science, it's just arcane and takes a ton of time. Generally, I hate to pay people to do things I know I can do -- especially if it's a good thing for me to have a very solid understanding of what's being done.

But, given that I haven't had a weekend where I didn't have to work for my business or E's business in at least 4 months, at this point, E and I agreed, we need to actively offload the least profitable weekend work I've been doing because it gets in the way of things I want to do.

Back to the run -- come noon yesterday, no way could I head out in the heat and do 8 miles without food. I could snack and head out, but then I'd miss my only opportunity for weekend brunch with E (which is one of my favorite events of the week). So, while I enjoyed Hwe Dup Bob and E noshed Sushi, I struggled to find a way to fit my 8 miles in the afternoon, after digesting, but before an early dinner with friends.

Finally, I admitted that I had enough work, gardening, running, and social obligations for the day that something was going to have to take the hit. Winner? The run. Plus, I wanted to join E for some delicious sake with lunch. I did. It was lovely. And gardening in the sun post-sake felt great.

That's the main lesson I've learned this training cycle. Between traveling, work, social obligations, family, and general life, my running often takes a hit. I've modified at least one run per week for the last 7 weeks, and I've flat out skipped 6 workouts in the last 7 weeks. Several of them I've replaced with walking miles, which is better than nothing, but in terms of strictly following a training plan, I suck.

This lack of discipline in running is not new for me. I wrote about it back in 2008, a few weeks before I set my still-standing PR for a 10K and a few months before setting my annual mileage record of 1391.38 miles in one year.

This year, despite blowing off and rescheduling workouts on a weekly basis, I'm still on track to kill the annual mileage record. I'm currently at 1304, so as long as I stay healthy and actually complete CIM, this year will be a new high-water mark. I'm hoping that the increased mileage and pseudo-committed training will bear some PR fruit as well, but only time will tell.

Finally, after the rest day, today's 16 was great. I got a late 10 AM start (2 cups of coffee and an old-fashioned powerbar pre-race), but headed up the foothills to a local junior college, and made myself do a mile on the track at goal race pace, before running down the hills home.

With 3 miles to go, my Amphipod was empty. So I ducked into the CVS to fill it with cold Gatorade.

I'm not going to lie, I really wanted to stay in front of the fridge (yeah, I steamed up the door, just standing there). But, the looks I was getting from the other patrons made me realize I was very stinky. Ooops. It was hot today (83F when I got home). And I'm a sweaty, stinky runner after 13 miles in the sun.

The checker was not thrilled with the sopping wet $20 bill I pulled from my Amphipod pocket and he was very careful not to touch *anything* I handed to him, scanning the Gatorade bottle from as far away as possible with his light gun, and going so far as to grab the garbage can and bring it up to eye level so I could throw out my Powerbar Energy Blast trash.

Take home?

I'm hard-core enough to be disgustingly gross to the CVS staff and patrons, but not remotely hard-core enough to strictly follow the high-end of the Hanson Brooks Marathon Training Plan (for non-elites).

Good To See You!

My dad showed up in my dreams last night.

It was so nice to hang out with him and Nolan.

He was his smiling, happy self. He had on a dark blue polo shirt that looked great, and when I woke I smiled because I don't think he ever had that shirt in real life. My brain (or whatever else controls my dreams) essentially created a *new* memory of my dad for me in my sleep.

How cool is that?

CIM, Week -8

I'm about to go lie down and try to take a nap. This week, I skipped 2 workouts, and then, decided to try to make up for lost mileage by going hard on the weekend.

Overall, I think it worked out pretty well. But, predictably, I'm exhausted.

Yesterday, I did 9 miles in the San Jose foothills, including a total of at least 2,000 ft. of elevation gain and loss. It was slow, but a *very* difficult workout. It was all I could do to hold out 'til 8:30 PM before leaving a friend's birthday party (but showed up at 5 and helped cook, so that counts for something, right?).

Today, I woke refreshed from the full night's sleep, jogged to the start of a local 10K, and started with the super small crowd and managed to finish as the first female in something around 54 minutes (I took a wrong turn, so hard to be certain of what my actual finishing time should have been), and then jogged my way home. The day's total was a fun 10 miles, and the 10K portion was faster than my current guess at what makes sense for a target marathon pace (8:55?). Since it was the day after a major hill workout, I was quite happy -- this tells me I'm on the right track in terms of my goal pacing and fitness.

For comparison, I did a 10K in Bellevue last training cycle at week -6. It was (a) a minute slower, although much more hilly; (b) part of a week with almost the same mileage as this one; and (c) with 4 easy flat miles instead of 9 hard hill/trails miles the day before the race. I'm telling myself this means I'm much more fit this time around than last time. [And I'm hoping it's true :)]

Next week, I'm doing my best to do all scheduled workouts, including a full set of 10 Yasso 800s. So far, my best has been 8. But I've never given myself the full recovery interval (an equal amount of time walking/jogging to the time spent running), so I'm going to hope that with that modification, I can do all 10. Wish me luck.

[In other news, work is crazy busy, and E's business is even more crazy with fundraising and product madness. We're very happy to be home so we can attack the crazy from our comfort zone. Yes, we've got more nights and weekends booked with work-related stuff than we'd like, but at least we're home.]

Week -9

E and I went to New York this week.

Tuesday night, I had to bail on intervals with my running buddy. I had way too much work and still hadn't packed for our departure on Wednesday.

I would have loved to make up the miles on Wednesday (a scheduled rest day), but I had to work onsite at a client until E picked me up and we boarded. We didn't check-in to our hotel until 1 AM EDT. So, if I wanted to get on local time, there was no workout for me that day.

Thursday AM, I did 5.5 of strength intervals on the treadmill at an 8:20 pace. It was sort of a hybrid of the missed speed intervals (which would have been shorter, but at a 7:30 pace) and the tempo run I had scheduled (where I probably would have targeted 8:45 - 8:55).

Friday AM, my body revolted and demanded sleep. I thought I could fit in my workout later in the day, but alas, it was the last day of the quarter and additional work sprung up.

Saturday, I did a very slow 8 miles in Central Park. I enjoyed it immensely. Running in Central Park is such a stereotypical runner activity, and now I've joined the hordes of people and dogs who have done it.

Sunday, I woke early, picked up Nish and headed to the start of a half marathon in Long Island. I did a nice 1.3 mile warm-up at a 9:09 pace. Then we did the half in a very impressive 2:17 debut for Nish. Something tells me she's going to be much faster in her next attempt -- we sped up for each of the final miles until we were going at an 8:37 pace for the final 0.1 miles. After crossing the finish line, she offered to run the remaining 0.5 miles with me so I could hit my 15 total. Yeah, she definitely had some more gas in the tank.

Overall, I completely missed 2 workouts, Tuesday's speed and Friday's 6. My mileage for the week totaled 39.85, including the walking in New York. That's 11 miles short for the week's planned mileage, but still 13 more miles than the same week last time around.

I'm definitely looking forward to being home without major travel for the next 7 weeks. Even with the workouts I've dropped, I think I'm on track for a good showing at CIM, but I'm hopeful that if I get a little closer to my stated training goals, I'll be able to enjoy some additional fitness and speed increases before the race.

Survey

Today, I posted this to Facebook:

This AM, the welcome home household shopping survey found 1/4 roll of TP (shared between 2 bathrooms) and 1/8 pint of milk, poured in the coffee before I discovered it was spoiled. Thank goodness we have 7 weeks straight without any flights... Here's to home cooked meals from a full fridge, garden harvests, and no packed bags!

(Talk about giving up all semblances of anonymity!)

Our NY trip was wonderful. But it was jam-packed. Grandparents, legal work, friend visits, and a half marathon all in less than 5 days? Sure, why not?

But, if I am honest, the speed of things has been increasing for us. So, there may be a reason why the trip might not have made sense. E's business is even more crazy now than it was a month ago. My business just keeps getting busier.

Ostensibly, these are great things.

But, every once in a while, I think, "Huh. Should I be slowing down? Are there roses I should be smelling?"

Last night, after midnight, catching up on email and getting responses from clients after 1 AM was one of those times. Jet Lag was not in my favor. I'd been up since 3:00 AM PST, and there it was after 1 AM, still working.

I'm trying. I really am. The reason the homefront is so neglected (see the Facebook post above) is that I've fit in visits to my sister, nephew and brother-in-law, plus the New York trip -- both trips are focused first and foremost on family and friends. But, somehow, the commitment to friends and family ended up in the last 3 weeks of the quarter (you know, when my clients freak out and want all of my attention)...

Overall, I think I'm in a very introspective phase at the moment. I just finished my 20th book, Ringworld. And, I enjoyed it. But prior to that, I was on a clip of more than 2 books per month.

Starting in August, that books completed rate fell to something more like 1 or less books per month. This makes me sad. Reading for a living with nothing else to do actually sounds boring to me. I'd admire someone with a tiger who had the guts not to sell tiger stuff. I think I'd have trouble passing it up.

With that in mind, I'll simply say that this week's running took some hits from life. But at the end of the week, the half marathon with Nish was awesome, and, surprisingly unaffected by the prior day's 8 in central park or 6 the next day on our trail in MV.

Okay, back to the grind (work, and for balance, harvesting when the sun comes out, only 10 books to go 'til the year's total of 30, and running and trying to hit my weight loss goal before the marathon and holidays).

Spokane

Fall had already arrived, but she went into hiding for my glorious 5 day visit to Spokane. Nothing but sunshine, trees, views of the river and valley, and wonderful outdoor runs and meals.

My sister and B are the most chill parents I know. The dearth of baby stuff was refreshing. The baby is a point on the triangle of their family, rather than the center of their orbit. They seem to believe that little A will be just fine with their attention, and he is. More than fine. He's perfect.

In the mall, when A spit up on himself as I held him, I told my sister, who was busy paying for parking. "Oh, just rub it into his clothes. That's why he wears them."

Right. Love the low stress parenting. It was so fun to hang out with their family.

In running, while alone, I made nothing but wrong turns. One day my run ended up with 400 ft down the back of the ridge (their dog pulled me back up). Another day, I mistakenly ran 400 ft down the front of the ridge (I had to pull the dog back up that time). And finally, on the day I made it onto the trails along the ridgeline, I was repeatedly stung by a wasp who took the unfortunate resting place between my sock and shoe. Ouch.

Despite the suboptimal training, I raced a scenic 10K with sis along the Spokane River, and the clock showed a PR of 49:05. Unfortunately, I knew from my effort level that the course had to be short. I'd forgotten my GPS watch, but I asked two of the women who beat us and they reported 5.85 and 5.84 miles. So, not quite PR pace, but a respectable showing of 8:23's nonetheless. A great training run. And super fun to do it with my sister.

This week is threatening chaos. Close of the quarter. A trip to New York. So, while I want nothing more than a lazy Sunday of nothing, I'm going to try to buckle down and do a ton of stuff today.

Rest Day

I've had too much, lately.

Too much work. Too much running. Too much to do to keep my life on track (garden chores, replacing the totaled car, thank yous, bills, taxes, managing investments, eating well). I've got two weeks of travel coming up, as well, and, while I'm looking forward to both trips, I know they are going to put even more on my plate.

In hindsight, I should have run the full 14 yesterday if my legs could take it, and then I should have planned to take today off. Instead, I raced the 4 and totaled 8 and over 1,000 feet of elevation climb and pushed the 14 to today, where I could do it flat.

But, Life had other plans for me.

I woke on time, nice and early, with 30 minutes to drink some coffee, eat some fuel, and get an audiobook onto my Sanza Mini-Cruzer to entertain me through the run. I had a fight with Audible.com and lost. 30 minutes later, I did not have the audiobook I'd hoped to run to, but I'd paid for and committed to a recurring subscription of audiobooks that didn't work with my device. Couldn't even cancel, had to wait 'til Monday to speak with a human.

Then, I got an email from my visiting childhood friend, informing me she'd be early, so I wouldn't have time to do the last 30-60 minutes of my run. I should have cut my run short, but instead, I decided I'd bust through some of my todo list and try to do it in the evening.

While I did get quite a bit of work and life stuff done, I also needed to take an hour nap before she arrived. By the time she got here, it was in the 80s and climbing, and despite the nap, I was still tired. That evening run was looking less and less attractive.

At lunch, I admitted defeat. I was yawning, starving, and generally overwhelmed with how much I needed to get done before getting on a plane on Tuesday.

So, I took today off running entirely. This means I'm doing the cardinal sin of skipping the long run during marathon training. Frankly, once I decided to do it, I'm not the least bit concerned. Even without the long run, week -11 totaled out at 35.7 miles. This includes a brutal speed session, 8 miles in the hills (nay, Mountains) on Saturday, and almost all of the miles under a 10 minute pace. Week -11 for CDA was 21.84 miles. I'm over 107 miles ahead of where I was at this point for CDA.

A missed long run isn't going to kill me. In fact, given that I came home after lunch and took a second nap of almost 2 hours, I think my body just really needed to rest and recover from the demands I've been placing on it.

And, I only have two more contracts to finish before I can go into Monday without any backlogged work for the first time in at least 2 months. Yay!

Re-Evaluation

After yesterday's realization that I'd like to actually complete my 50 mile week and be functional for next week's schedule, I decided the Mt. Diablo 4-miler was the best plan. 400 ft up, 400 ft down. I could do it as many times as made sense.

I ran the race hard. Harder than I expected, actually. I took it easy up, but I love me some downhills, and I really enjoy passing people. So, 11's on the way up and low 8's on the way down. I finished dripping with sweat and beat the female course record (although several women finished before me, so they also beat it before I got to the line).

I checked in with my mom, who'd driven with me (she got up at 5:30 AM with me to go, how sweet is that?) and had set up her water colors for a morning of painting in the mountain light. She was all set up with pigments and brushes and paper and wished me well. She also introduced me to the 71-year-old who took 1st in his age group that I *barely* passed to beat on the downhill (e.g. he kicked my ass on the uphill).

After some snacking, I headed out again for another 4, but halfway through the uphill realized I had intestinal issues. Fun. So that loop was only 1 out and back for a total of 2. After a pit stop and checking in on the progress of mom's paintings (she's doing 3 different tigers and it is super cool to watch them evolve as she paints the various layers), I headed out for the remaining 8, with a plan for two consecutive 4 mile out and backs.

At around 0.5 miles up the hill, I realized my hips were starting to get sore. I started to do some math and realized that if I completed my plan, even without the crazy elevation change, I'd be on my feet about an hour longer than if I'd done the 14 on flat ground. I thought about the last time I ran hills and how long it took me to recover. So, I decided to make it one more 2 mile out and back for a total of 8.

And, there, easy as pie, I'm all signed up for 14 tomorrow AM. Nice and flat. Around the bay. Sea level. Followed by dim sum with an old childhood friend who's driving through town.

In fact, I think she may be the friend I've known the longest. It's possible I may have known her longer than E2.

It's good to have memories of gymnastics with a friend you still speak to in the back of your 4th grade teacher's class room. Plus, she had her picture taken with Kerri Strug today (which is national gymnastics day). How cool is that?

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

Tomorrow, I'm registered for the Mt. Diablo half marathon.

3,240 feet of elevation up and back down. I figured it would make a great strength run.

Now, I'm re-evaluating whether it might make sense to do the 10 Miler and the 4 Miler to eliminate 1,000 or so on both sides.

Either way, I'm going to be quite sore, methinks.

Off to go hit the foam roller and stretch before the self-inflicted ridiculousness.

Week -12

45.67 miles for this step-back week.

It actually felt like I was giving my body a break (of course, I did take Monday off and only walked the 6 make-up miles, so I didn't run as much as I was supposed to).

For CDA this mileage was the second highest volume week I ran. This cycle, I'm facing another 10 consecutive weeks with mileage over 46 before the taper week of 38ish.

It's interesting how quickly my perspective has changed. A 45 mile week used to be a big deal. I'd only done 3 in my life before starting this training program. And yet, here I am, more than comfortable after a 45 mile step-back week to recover from last week's 51.

Here's to hoping this program results in speed benefits in addition to the obvious endurance benefits.

Healthy Discoveries

So, the healthy streak of no alcohol and low-glycemic index ovo-lacto vegetarian food was going swimmingly. The original plan was 10 days straight commencing the day we returned from our travels.

But, on night 3, E2 & J asked if they could come spend the night on their way up north. We were super excited to hang out with them, and, truly, both E and I were more than happy to take a quick break from the streak for a little wine with friends. So, we all sat around the dinner table, sipping wine and eating garden gazpacho, sliced garden veggies dipped in homemade hummus, brown rice tomato risotto (with oyster mushrooms for E) and J added some chicken sausages to his meal as he could not quite go full veggie after doing physical labor all day.

In exchange for the night off, E and I agreed that we should tack 2 full days to the remainder of the streak. We'll do this for every day we don't completely meet the goal (e.g. yesterday, I did a veggie juice fast for lunch, and the dinner meal was entirely on target...except the wine, but we've decided that any slip = 2 more full days). The current count is 9 days left, but we have plans on that 9th day with friends at a winery. So right now, it looks like the best we could do is 2 on, 1 off, 7 on, 1 off, 3 on. It should be interesting to see how long it takes us to get through the full streak and how many days we do in total before returning to our more ordinary reasonably healthy (but not super healthy) lifestyle. I have high hopes...

This morning, E2 and I headed out for a wonderful 4 mile walk (the last 4 I had to make up from the 6 I missed on Monday AM after the wedding). We hit up Starbucks and I opted for my favorite pre-workout drink -- a skinny vanilla latte (although sometimes I go Hazelnut). 9g protein. 14g carbs. 125mg Sodium. 75mg Caffeine. 90 Calories. What's not to like? We alternated talking and ended with a long-overdue fully-caught-up hug. I've missed my weekend long runs with E2, but a walk is almost as good.

After an hour of walking, my Garmin needed charging, so I stretched a bit and ate a Harvest Energy Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Bar. Mmmm... this tastes like a treat and at 250Cal with 9g fat, I wouldn't ordinarily want to indulge. But, I knew I had 8 solo miles to run and it was getting warm, so I erred on the side of extra fuel and electrolytes (140mg Na; 200mg K) , especially since I didn't have any sports drinks available to take with me.

And, what do you know? Between the latte and the bar, I made it through a 4 mile walking warm-up and a fairly difficult out and back 8 miler that ended in 84F heat (1200 ft total ascent, 300 ft net climb out and drop back) with nothing but water. I kept the run under 10 minute miles, including the stops for water walking, so my average pace without the stops was somewhere in the 9:40 range. Given that it seemed difficult, but not terrible, even with the heat and hills, I was quite pleased. Even better, when I got home, I wasn't totally useless. I wasted some time at the computer, took a good shower and prepared lunch without any of the post-workout fall-out I often experience if I don't tend to my energy/fuel needs.

The biggest healthy-related discovery of the week, however, was how delicious the St. Pauli N.A. tasted with lunch after my workout. I've never been a big fan of beer after runs. Some people swear by it, but the smell of the alcohol nauseates me after a hard work-out. It usually takes me at least an hour post-workout before a beer (or any alcohol) even starts to sound good. But, now, I've found the solution. Non-alcoholic beer! What a brilliant idea.

I thought I was being quite clever with my discovery. However, a German brewery already thought of this and ran a scientific study around the Munich Marathon (scientific abstract here). They concluded that non-alcoholic beer is an excellent long distance recovery beverage -- it's got all the great carbs you need plus it's got additional goodies that boost the immune system and help control inflammation, both of which are negative side effects of long distance high volume training and racing.

The moral of the story? Sometimes it's actually *good* to miss your goals and adjust.

1. If I hadn't missed my Monday run, I'm not sure I would have done the 4 mile walk with E2 *and* the 8 mile run this AM. The time with E2 was one of the best parts of my week, while the run was harder (aka better training) than it would have been in the cooler AM.

2. If we hadn't asked J and E2 to show up with wine last night, we would have drank the St. Pauli Girl N.A.s, and I wouldn't have learned the beauty of non-alcoholic beer as a training aid. 96Cals, 23g Carbs plus all the B vitamins and other random goodness you get from the brewing process without the stink of alcohol? I'm a fan. Besides, it tastes better than any other recovery drink I've tried.

Week -13

It's actually halfway through week -12 by now, and as the delay would indicate, last week was quite busy.

The last BBQ of the season was a blast and an unexpected reunion of several folks from one of E's long ago employers. My clients are all gearing back up and keeping me ridiculously busy. E's business is in one of those wacky start-up cycles where everything seems to be happening at the same time (financing, customers, hardware deliveries, and more). R & B's awesome wedding (How cool is a quick thunderstorm and double rainbow on your special day in Pasadena on Labor Day? Talk about an auspicious sign of good fortune!).

On the running front, I actually did more miles than the schedule required thanks to extra walking in Pasadena. 51+ miles including 400 intervals at a much faster than expected pace (including one at 6:47!), and a 12 mile loop that heads up into the mountains and back down (i.e. Lots of hillwork). No wonder I'm exhausted. But in a good way.

Monday, the day after the wedding (technically week -12), I skipped my run. Too much fun with nothing left for the body. Tuesday's intervals on the strand in Santa Monica to Marina del Rey and back were gorgeous, but slower than expected. Oh well, c'est la vie.

So, here I am, headed into the back half of the week, finally starting to catch up on work and the garden. Last night was 8 cans of tomato sauce and I'll be canning, roasting and pickling (I've got a bumper crop of cucumbers as well) every night this week.



E and I just started our traditional post-BBQ healthy vegetarian, yoga-full, alcohol-free stint last night. I woke this morning slightly more rested and definitely convinced that changing gears on the consumption is a good idea. I look forward to seeing how this treats my running. And, it is my hope that by the end of the 10 days, I should be ready for the next social onslaught.

The Ebb and Flow

After a relatively mellow August, my clients are all of a sudden exploding with emergency work for me to do.

I just compiled my to-do list after an AM of conference calls and realized that I owe 10 contract mark-ups to various clients, all due today!

Good thing E has a business dinner meeting -- when I'm only fending for myself I can live off uncooked veggies that take no time at all to prepare.

In other news, the early AM 7 miler today was a piece of cake. The effort felt like 4 or 5 felt a few months ago. This despite the fact that it's my 8th day straight of running without a day off. Yay! I love getting in better shape -- it's so fun.

Week -14

Well, that went fast. It's been a week and 44.04 miles on my feet since I last posted and, it's good to summarize, because if I don't, I'm not sure I'd know where the time went.

In addition to work, life, and the running miles, I fit in a mid-week visit to a friend I hadn't seen in 10 years and a day trip to Tomales Bay as a final Californian hurrah with a friend who's moving to the East Coast.

Tuesday, H (running buddy) and I headed out to join Palo Alto Run Club for speed intervals, but they decided to do hill repeats at the the Dish instead.

Ouch. It took almost 3 full days to recover to the point where I didn't have hip soreness.

Yesterday, I headed out for 8 miles with Metamatt. He's so much faster than me that I knew it was going to be a difficult run. The Giants ballpark dinner as a pre-run meal wasn't helping much, either. Thankfully, he slowed it down but kept me at a solid 9:04 average pace. We shared a Pure Energy Bar and a Powerbar endurance bar beforehand and we snacked on energy chews during the run. Ocean Beach and Golden Gate park were predictably cold and foggy, but the day cleared up by mid afternoon and we enjoyed sunny blue skies in M's backyard before our drive home.

After a delicious brunch at Beretta (carbonara pizza? Oh, hell yes.), I needed a 1.5 hour nap before I could even try to accomplish anything else in my day. And, to be honest, I didn't really accomplish much.

This morning, I had 10 miles on tap with H. I expected it to be difficult given the mileage step up week and the hard run the day before.

But, we shared a Pure Energy Bar over coffee and easily warmed up to a much faster pace than I expected. My watch battery died, so I can't be sure, but I think we did the whole 10 at an average pace of 9:30 or so, which is a marked improvement from last week's slow and steady 10 miler.

And there you have it. One more week down. One week closer to the race. Lots of running. Gorgeous California late summer weather. Busy social life. Busy work life. And not much else to report.

Week -15

I'm following a training plan based on the Hanson Brooks Marathon Training Plan.

It's different than any plan I've ever followed. The biggest difference? The longest run I'm going to do is 18.2 miles (which is actually longer than they recommend, but I found a trail run that looks too fun to miss). In exchange for the lost long runs of 18-20 miles, I'm running 6 days per week including speed and strength workouts and other than speed days, I don't have a single run shorter than 6 miles 'til the week of the race.

This week, I substituted 3 miles of walking with a friend for the easy 6 on Monday, but I did everything else as prescribed. 37 miles and change. For CDA, I didn't hit that mileage 'til Week -8. My overall mileage is going to be much larger this time around.

Saturday's 6 miler was very difficult, and I was exhausted afterwards, so I was very apprehensive about Sunday's 10. But, the 10 was actually much more pleasant than the 6.

I chomped down a Power Bar Pure and Simple Energy Bar (roasted peanut butter... this may be my favorite energy bar I've ever tried! Yum!) on the drive out, and then my running buddy and I shared a package of the Cola flavored Energy Blasts on the run. The conversation, caffeine, and available sugars combined to make the last 10 of a 37 mile week much less difficult than I expected. Sure, we were slow, but that was fine. We are supposed to run the long run on tired legs -- that's the point, the long runs are supposed to feel like the last miles of the marathon.

Given how much better I felt than planned when I got back to the house, I decided not to push my luck. Rather than the planned lunch of gazpacho, I told E I needed something more substantial, so we agreed on sushi for lunch and gazpacho for dinner.

Before my shower, I drank 2 cups of vegetable juice from the juicer (Kale, apricot, carrot, celery, cucumber, tomato). Considering that I was starving, the juice did an admirable job of keeping me upright and functional through my tomato harvest and visit to the farmer's market until E and I sat for sushi.

By 2 PM, I felt renewed and easily finished my gardening todo list.

There were several variables between Saturday's 6 and Sunday's 10. But, at least one of them was that I intentionally ate to run/recover as opposed to just running. I like to think I can do 6 miles in just about any condition, and I probably can. But it's interesting to see that an intentional 10 can feel better (and leave me less trashed) than an un-thoughtfully executed 6.

The Powerbar Trial

As you may recall, I totally bonked on my Memorial Day Marathon in Coeur d'Alene.

R's fiancé works for Powerbar.

He read that I showed up without my own race fuel and likely hit the wall due to the poor electrolyte and carbohydrate quality of the race's provided fuel and immediately set out to make certain I would not suffer the same fate again.

So, a wonderful care package arrived on my birthday:



Just in time, too. (Thanks B!)

This week is week -15 on my training for the California International Marathon. My goal is to run a Personal Record (which means I need to beat my previous CIM time of 4:04). Ideally, I'd like to break 4 hours and I'd love to break 3:50 or even 3:40, but I need to see how my long runs are looking closer to the race before I can determine if those are reasonable goals or not.

I do, however, feel pretty damn good about the prospect of a PR this race as I have several things on my side:

1. The Powerbar products. Up until this training cycle, I've always been fairly haphazard about fueling during training because I often prefer to take the performance hit and run slower without fuel for the weight management benefits. For CDA, I only used fuel on the longest run of the week and races -- I performed much better on those runs. This time around, I'm taking a different approach. I'm going to use fuel on every run over 10 miles and work to push myself on speed and performance instead of worrying about the calories. I'm hopeful that using fuel to improve the quality of my training will improve the quality of my race performance as well.

2. I'm already in decent running shape. If I had to, I could run a reasonable half marathon today (as opposed to when I started training for CDA and I still needed to put in 5 weeks before I could comfortably run a half marathon at a 9 minute pace.)

3. More Mileage. I'm committed to the most aggressive training schedule I've ever attempted for a marathon. For CDA, I did an average of 31 miles per week over the 17 week training cycle (which was the most I'd ever done). This time around, I'm shooting for an average of 43 miles per week. I'm pleased to see that even though I'm finishing up the first few not-so-serious weeks of training, I'm already more than 20 miles ahead of where I was for CDA with 15 weeks to go.

4. I have a running buddy. I haven't ever trained for a time-goal marathon with a friend. This time around, H, the friend who flew up to Washington to join me for the Kirkland Half Marathon, is committed to a similar training schedule for CIM. We've got plans for two runs together during the week, and weekends as well, if we're both in town. It's so much easier to motivate for those medium long runs when I have a training buddy. Thanks, H!

With all of those benefits, I'm feeling very well positioned to get into shape and run a great race on a fast, downhill course. Onward!

Egypt, Le Fin

The last entry from my last hand-written travel journal

1/12/04

We’re at the airport. To be honest, it felt as if our journey home began last night the second that we set foot in the Sheraton Heliopolis.

But, I’m getting ahead.

We took a very short cab ride from the train station and paid 30 EGP for it. Neither of us minded because the driver was so animated and earnest. He stopped to ask several people if they spoke English to determine where we wanted to go, but it turns out that “Museum” is not a common word in their vocabulary of learned English words. Odd. They seem to have a fabulous command of most other tourist-centric language. Finally, he dropped us at “Masree” which as near as we could tell was the Arabic word for the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. We sent our bags through the X-ray, checked them, bought our tickets and ambled around the museum for quite a while.

At one point, R realized he was hungry. I might have been but it was difficult to tell with my stomach pain. We left the museum and went to the adjacent museum café to eat. From the window, we had views of spare Egyptian monuments erected in the courtyard as if to say, “Why Not? We have so many!”

The second time into the museum I had to buy another 20 EGP ticket because I couldn’t find my other one. Typical. Thankfully, the King Tut exhibit was worth the second price of admission.

We easily hailed a cab that agreed to take us to Sheraton Heliopolis for 40 EGP. I was shocked to watch the guards search under the taxi for bombs before they let us approach. That had not happened anywhere else we had stayed in Egypt. It definitely made me appreciative that we’d opted out of the traditional western tourist experience.

After we bid our driver adieu, we stepped into the opulence and realized we were basically home. Service, Luxory, English – whatever you needed or wanted. I was amazed to think this is what some people see and think of as “Egypt.” The Heliopolis Sheraton was by far the most extravagant hotel we stayed in, but it was creepy, too. R and I were definitely the only people our age walking around.
Dinner at the Lebanese restaurant was the most expensive meal of the trip at 160 EGP, or roughly 28 USD for two with egyptian white wine (dry, uninteresting chenin gris) for me. We stayed for the belly dancing and wished we hadn’t. She wasn’t very good, although the musicians were amazing. The way that her dress showed off her breasts instead of her stomach was odd and her pandering to the lecherous older men was a bit much to watch.

So, we asked for the check and went back to the room and up to bed.

I finished Palace Walk in my last night in Egypt. It was a good book and a great thing to read while there.

So, here we are, at the airport, but really, having left the Egypt we came to visit last night. It’s been a wonderful, difficult, educational, and interesting trip.

They are calling for boarding.

Egypt, 1/11/04

The 8th journal entry from my trip to Egypt in 2004.

The 9th was not so much fun -- I was sick all day and did little more than nap in our room, eat a couple of bananas, and finally one last amazing Siwan outing.

We walked to the hill of the dead and looked at the beautiful sights. We saw some Japanese tourists and finally, the group of Italian tourists from the goat dinner came down the hill as well. They raved about the locked tombs, which we wouldn't have seen without their prompt.

They asked if we knew any of the history of the hill, so I attempted to translate the guidebook's explanation for them. Boy has my Italian deteriorated. It's sad. One of the women finally took the book from me and translated the last bits for their group. Watching her, I remembered how much easier it is to translate *into* your native language instead of *out of* it. In hindsight I should have just given them the book and let them ask me about words they didn't know.

After speaking with them, we went to the key-keeper and he took us to each of the locked tombs: one with pictures of Amon, two with mummies and skeletons and one with a picture of crocodiles. R was right when he said it twas too much to get your head around.

The history was ridiculous. The tombs and mummies were ptolemaic and 26th dynasty, the Romans had reused it, and when the Siwans had escaped to the hill during bombings in 1940, they discovered the tombs and lived there for 3 years. Italian Solders excavated many of the paintings for cheap payments to the Siwans after the bombings, and now, in 2004, we were here as tourists.

As we entered, we were invited to tea by another man, Muhammed, who by the looks of it, lived at the hill. The process was slow and careful. First, a fire was stoked in an old blackened half of a radiator. Then, the tea-maker, a blackened metal cup with a twisted wire handle was filled with tea leaves and water and placed on the fire. As it heated, serving glasses (roughly glass shot glasses) and the serving tea pot were washed with water. Muhammed ladled sugar into the serving pot, and added the tea when it boiled over the metal cup. Then, Muhammed poured the tea from the serving pot into one of the glasses in a high, long stream of liquid. The cup of tea was poured back into the pot and this process was repeated several times. Finally, when the tea was cool enough to drink, we were given our cups.

So, there we were, in an excavated tomb, on top of the hill of the dead, overlooking the sunset and enjoying the silence over tea with two men. It was peaceful and wonderful. They offered us food as well, and we tried to say no, but our refusals were ignored. R took a banana and a tangerine. I took a tangerine. They also offered us cigarettes. Unfortunately, the strong tea and acidic tangerine were too much for my stomach, so I had to leave. R followed later after paying baksheesh to both men of 10 EGP each ($1.60 USD, generous by local standards).

Apparently, the men had tried to invite R back for Siwan whiskey after the cop was gone (there was a cop observing our entire visit to the hill of the dead). He laughed and said no.

After the hill of the dead, I slept until it was time to catch the bus. We ended up on a street in the dark with no other bus-riders. Confused, we asked a shopkeeper if the bus came here. He answered yes and a few minutes later brought chairs outside for us to sit on to wait for the bus. We experienced several acts of kindness like this one in Siwa -- they were absolutely charming.

The bus ride was as expected. 9 hours, cold, and uncomfortable. But, the good news is that with the help of Immodium and rest stops, I was able to make the trip successfully.

We arrived at Sidi Gaber in Alexandria around 6 AM. We waded through a million taxi offers to get our bags from the luggage compartment. We trudged through sludge, mud and the people of Alexandria who are in the street at 6 AM (much like the street people of the night in other major cities, they were hungry, huddled, and not interested in us).

We bought our train tickets to Cairo and set out to catch a cab, which in an ironic twist after the throngs of offers earlier was very difficult. Several cabs drove by, but none of them stopped. We guessed it had something to do with the cop in the street, but who knows? Finally, a cab pulled up and nervously stopped, yelling at us to get in on the passenger side. This was the first time we'd seen a cab driver in Egypt concerned about any rules, so we assumed our cop theory was correct.

We checked into the Cecil Hotel for $120 USD (a good rate for us, as the book claimed rates ranged from $130-207). They asked our budget and we said we'd like to spend $120 USD, which they liked. In fact, they upgraded us to an executive suite and we found ourselves in a lovely, well-maintained, European-style room with an oh-so-welcoming western bathroom.

R hadn't slept on the bus, so he immediately went to bed. I showered, took a bubble bath and fell into a restful sleep. We woke around 1 pm and walked to the library. We were informed that it was open at 3 PM, so we went back to the cafe we visited last time and I calmed my stomach with sprite and bread.

While R ate, we made the acquaintance of a Quebecoise pianist who was performing classical music at the library's concert hall the next night. She was adorable and I was sorry that were weren't free to stay for another night to go to her performance.

We bid her farewell and entered the library, checking our bags at the ticket counter. The first thing we saw in the great library of Alexandria was the poster announcing her performance.

The library's greatest asset, to my mind, is the architecture. The stairs mount from the bottom to the top in a series of connected slopes, evocative of a pyramid. The supporting structures and ceiling are a modern blend of curves and angles. The book collection is small for such a large space, but I imagine that in time it will be impressive. The computer terminals were available for free to anyone with tickets, but mail.yahoo.com was blocked. After an hour or so, we left.

Lazily, we walked back toward our hotel. We stopped in an Internet cafe where we used demo copies of Windows XP to check and send email, read the news, etc. Our total visit came to 3 EGP ($0.50).

We continued our walk until we saw a modern cafe where (gasp) women and men were sitting together in both pairs and groups. We entered and they all looked up, but it was not shocked looks we've gotten used to receiving. Instead, they realized we were foreigners and quickly returned to their conversations.

I had another sprite while R snacked on another croissant. He claimed he's over turkish coffee and ordered a capuccino. We briefly returned to the Sanctuary of our room and rested -- R found Italian TV and we laughed at it.

At 8 PM, we followed Lonely Planet's advice and walk to Havanna, "the Best Bar in Egypt" which also served food. It was closed.

So we set out the find Cap D'or, but were not successful. A gentlemen who was following us asked if he could help, saying that he had been in Canada 23 years ago. We followed him for a while, but I became uneasy and when a second gentlemen stepped behind us, I told R. It was probably nothing, but regardless, we thanked him and turned in the opposite direction.

We found our way back to the Corniche and a gorgeous lighted gate supported by pillars was our reward. We took a picture and then walked back toward our hotel with our sights set on another dinner for R at Denis. On the way, we saw a fancy greek-style fish restaurant and decided to go there instead. We were the only patrons seated in the gorgeous room and the service was *superb.* The food was exquisite. R ordered Meyas (which I suspect was Makerel, but I'm not certain), hummous, a greek salad and Heineken (brewed locally). The bread was actually leavened (!) and topped with sesame seeds. I was so excited to see proper bread, especially because I could eat a little bit of it. They brought us babaganoush even though we didn't order it and I made a dinner of my roll with hummous and babaganoush and a beer and a half. I actually felt okay.

We had two servers all to ourselves and they were dedicated, whisking in and out with plates, matches, ashtrays, cups, napkins, drinks, whatever you could possibly want. A camera-touting gentleman took our photo at the table and returned with it in a paper frame 10 minutes later. R bought it for his mother.

We returned to the hotel and I took *another* luxurious bubble bath and slept.

This morning, I woke to my stomach slightly upset, but nothing terrible. Definitely the best I've been feeling since I became ill. I started this entry from our balcony and enjoyed a diet coke while writing it. Also, my fingernails are clean! It's a wonderful thing.

We showered, packed, and took a taxi to the train station where we caught the train to Cairo without too much difficulty. And now, we're speeding towards our last Egyptian adventure -- the Cairo Museum and our last night in Heliopolis.

Siwa, 1/9/04

The 7th journal entry from my trip to Egypt in 2004

Yesterday was a *very* full day. We walked to a cafe, had coffee, explored the shali on foot (adorable children) and found ourselves in the charge of young Muhammed as passengers on his donkey cart.

We went to Alexander's supposed tomb, the oracle of Amon, the Cleopatra springs and back home. On the ride, we ate delicious oranges (4 for 1 Egyptian Pound).

We lunched at a restaurant on top of the Shali lodge amongst the palms, where R was inspired to state, "I feel like a Columbian drug lord." My cooked vegetables and couscous was delicious as was my salad of tehini, tomatoes and cucumbers, and finally, some good bread, too.

Ali, our server, came to sit and talk with us after the meal. He brought little shot glasses of sweet tea which were excellent.

From there, we headed back out in Muhammed's cart for a trip out to fatmis island to watch the sunset over the dessert. It was gorgeous.

Unfortunately, we let ourselves be talked into attending a BBQ hosted by our hotel. Perhaps it was the goat, or perhaps it was the uncooked tomatoes and cucumbers, but whatever it was, I was up all night with a fever, chills, and diarrhea. Gross.

Tonight, we take the 10 PM bus to Alexandria. The hope is that my digestive system will be under control by then. The headache, lack of my own bathroom, and sickness was enough to make me just wish I was back home. Sucks. I'm hoping my attitude will improve with my health.

Egypt, quick snippit

01/08/04

Siwa.

It's already worth yesterday's 9 hr bus ride. A village with history separate from the rest of Egypt. Mud-brick enclosures, donkey-cart taxis, a book on the culture of the Berber-Siwan people written by a native siwan and signed by the author in his shop last night.

R, in an amazing display of relaxation, is sleeping in this morning after sleeping the majority of the bus trip yesterday.

So, I'm relaxing under the palm trees and enjoying the quiet.

Alexandria, 1/7/04

The fifth journal entry from my trip to Egypt in 2004

We arrived at Station Masr in Alexandria around 1:30 PM yesterday. The walk to the hotel appeared straightforward from the map, so I led us from the station, first right and then up towards the ocean. Except, we ended up walking for an hour and a half through working class neighborhoods.

Children and adults greeted us with English, Arabic and waves. The daily activities were ours to witness alone -- we did not see a single tourist. Eventually, we reached a small waterway and I was confused. I did not recall any water ways on the straightforward walk. We consulted the book once more and found that we'd walked to the opposite side of the peninsula. Several older men in robes to their sandals convened to help us. We found the square we were looking for in the book and repeated the name to taxi drivers. Eventually one of older men took us as his cause, hailed a cab and arranged our transport.

R tried to tip the older man 1 Egyptian Pound, but he said, "La, hamsa!" which means, "No, Five!" So, R counted out 5 ones and gave them to the man, assuming they were baksheesh. But, instead, the man handed them to the driver, paying our fare as we drove away. It was an adorable gesture.

From the backseat of the cab, we retreated through the neighborhoods we'd walked. We stopped to pick up what appeared to be one of the taxi driver's friends, who got out to get some money from the vegetable vendor in a quick handshake exchange. We dropped the friend at his destination and then finally, we made it to Midan Sa'ab Zhaglou.

We walked to the great library of Alexandria, but it was closed, so we enjoyed the view from a cafe and walked back to our hotel.

After a brief break at the hotel, we finally found a great meal in Egypt. Thus far, the food has been nothing to write about: dry pita-like bread and bland uninspired combinations of meat and vegetables. The guide book sent us to Restaurant Denis, a greek-style fish bar, and we were thrilled.

First we were shown a platter of frozen/fresh perch, trout, and calamari. We selected the calamari and perch. It was some of the best fried fish I've ever had and it was served with tahini, tomatoes and onions, fuul, pickled radishes and pommes frites. It was the best calamari I've ever had. We ate and drank stella until we were going to explode and then we stumbled home and fell asleep by 10 PM. It was a fabulous way to finish a day of Egyptian perfection.

Today we are off to Siwa.

Egypt, continued

1/6/04.

Last night was a night of fear for me. The newness and foreign sights, sounds and treatment here had taken their toll on me. I found myself anxious to leave Cafe Riche and Groppi cafe because I was sick of being a tourist.

There are many mistakes to be made and the emails to home reminded me just how foreign this place is. R is treated better than me due to his gender and skin color and I don't like it.

In this petulant child-state, I researched Sinai, Aswan and Siwa in order to plan our next few days. I was annoyed and frustrated to learn that each of the trips required more transit time than I expected, so we'd only be able to make one. I found myself scared to go to Siwa due to its proximity to Libya, scared to go to Luxor/Aswan because of previous terrorism and the obvious dislike for me that had been displayed by many people throughout the day. I was depressed at the idea of close to 2 and half full days to get to mount sinai, not to mention the cultural conflicts that I'd encounter at the border to Israel. I wanted more time in the actual destinations to justify the travel commitments and I simultaneously just wanted to go home where I felt safe.

I talked with R and we decided to go to the travel agent this AM to figure out if Siwa is a reservable option. And then, fitfully, I slept.

But, a wonderful thing happened. I woke refreshed, unscared, and comfortable once again with the idea of winging it on our own.

We checked out with no problems. The bellhop got us a taxi and negotiated a fare (no doubt with a commission for himself). Our taxi got us to the train station with no problem. We greeted the information desk with (this is a photo of how I wrote what we said to him -- sadly I can no longer read or understand what it says):



He immediately smiled, replied, and was very friendly to us. We found the ATM, got cash, got tickets to the train to Alexandria, deciphered the Arabic to get to the right track, bought snacks (again greeting the clerk in Arabic and being very well received). In fact, the snack vendor gave me 10 Egpytian Pounds too little in change, and when I showed him, he smiled, apologized and immediately gave me the rest. He apologized again, obviously sorry. I said, "Malesh" (forget about it) and "Shukran" (thank you). He smiled.

We found our car and seats, passed the conductor without problems, and now we are on the train to Alexandria. I'm watching the countryside roll by. This feeling, now more than anything, is why I travel. I feel bigger, better, and more capable of handling setbacks, difficult situations, and fear. Today, I'm happy.

I also finally learned the entire Arabic alphabet and feel that I should be able to progress in my studies. Already, it's come in wonderfully handy/necessary. Little things like being able to find a street by the sign, or read the train schedule are fabulous. (And now, in 2011, I can't read or speak a word. How sad)

On that victorious note, I think I'll stop to read and rest.

'til tomorrow

I have nothing but awe

For full time parents.

It's the end of day 4 of niece week. And I'm nothing short of exhausted.

Between balancing her sleep schedule, her hilarious social schedule (could she be any more of her father's daughter? How does she have more neighborhood friends than we do?), the rocket-building and setting-off schedule (thanks Uncle E) and life...

Well, frankly, I'm having a hard time taking the strong line against her desire to sleep in and miss the first hour of lego camp in the mornings.

Except, of course, that I have to work...

Silly Work.

Did I mention that I adore having her here and thank my lucky stars that her parents let her come?

Egypt, 3rd installment

The third of several journal entries from my trip to Egypt in 2004

1/5/04. Night.

Today was a full day. We took a cab to our cheaper Cairo hotel -- Hotel Grand at the corner of Talaat Harb and 26 July Street. *Adorable.* We are on the 7th floor, overlooking the hustle and bustle of downtown, listening (right now) to the sunset call to prayer mixed with honking and traffic.

The call to prayer is amazingly pervasive. It covers the city and envelopes all of life in a way I've never experienced with a repeating sound. At noon today, we were lost in the Islamic quarter at a large square when the call rang out. It was a gorgeous experience.

After marveling at our wonderful room and balcony, we walked to the Midam Ataba, the Ezbekiya gardens and tried to find our way to the Khan El Kahlili. We found several street markets but they were modern markets with no tourists to be seen. This is not how the Khan El Khalili is described.

Eventually, we asked some police and one of their English speaking friends for directions. First, they asked for our passports. R gave his. They informed us that R did not "look" Canadian. But I did. Hah.

Many Egyptians today were proud of figuring out that R was Indian. One of the adorable serving boys at Midan El Hussein kept pointing at R and saying, "Indian." He was quite proud of himself and the scene was cute and funny in that way that only a foreign experience can be.

After traipsing through Khan El Khalili (Canadians get directions, apparently), we ate at one of the tourist traps looking at the mosque of Muhammed Hussein (where non-muslims are not allowed).

We then tried to walk to a mosque for entrance but accidentally tried the University entrance (where we were promptly turned away, seeing as how we are not University students).

At the mosque entrance, we had a storybook tout encounter. A young man named Muhammed (Ahmed) tried to show us "Egyptian Hospitality," sheesha, and hand-made handicrafts. We declined, but then he offered to take us to the Blue Mosque, where we could climb the tower and see the pyramids, citadel, cairo tower, etc. We went with him, deeper, and deeper into old Cairo.

Finally, we arrived at the mosque and he said that the student price was 20 Egyptian Pounds, while the regular price was 40 Egyptian Pounds. R declined saying he didn't want to pay to see a mosque. I started to take off my shoes, but thought better of it, deciding instead not to go if R didn't go.

Muhammed was flustered at first and then asked "why?" several times. Finally he asked for a "donation" to help his studies because, "he really needed it."

I was not pleased to find myself the victim of a scam. I explained to him that because he'd told us he wanted to practice his English and only wanted to be friends and show us hospitality, we'd gone with him. If he wanted to be paid, he needed to be honest about it up front so that we could decide if we wanted to pay or not before we went with him. He kept demanding money and I explained that we were not going to give him any, fairly loudly, in the street, in front of various folks in their doorsteps who watched with curiosity at the crazy English speaking lady. After a final emphatic "No" we walked away.

I was frustrated that we'd let ourselves get so far deep into old Cairo before he'd demanded money, and angry that he'd likely used this tactic to get money from others before.

R and I continued walking in the direction we had begun, even deeper into Old Cairo. I was very happy to have the turtleneck to cover me, but even so, we got plenty of stares and some hisses (at me, I assume). We spoke with a few adorable children, including a girl who stepped in front of R and said, "Wot is yur name?" When he replied she babbled in Arabic and ran off.

Eventually, we found some cops, but of course, they only spoke Arabic and initially, they were not friendly. Finally we got them to understand, "Wayen el Allah?" (Where is the Citadel) and they gave us directions. The cop smiled and asked me (while looking at R) if I spoke Arabic. I replied, "a little." He asked again, more emphatically, and I said one of my memorized phrases, which means, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Arabic that well." This made him very happy and he and his friend told us to have a good day.

I was uncomfortable for the rest of the walk, but we did find the Citadel eventually, after passing yet another crudely labeled, "Free Blue Mosque." I stopped R from entering because I was fairly paranoid that the helpful folks at the entrance would hold our shoes for ransome or something like that.

The Citadel was a welcome tourist attraction after the stark poverty and reality of Old Cairo. We ran into one of the taxi fight arbitrators from our morning and he called out to us, asking if the driver we ended up with was good. We looked for him when we left, but he was gone.

In the Citadel, we viewed the mosque of Muhammed Ali, the military museum, and the palace at the Citadel. The views of the city, mosques, towers, and pyramids in the background were my favorite part of the day.

Our taxi ride back to the hotel was a true Cairo rush hour experience complete with mopeds splitting the non-existent lanes against traffic, bottlenecks, pedestrians, bicycles, bus passengers getting on and off in the middle of the street and traffic lights which are defied by the masses.

Now we're off to dinner, Internet Cafe and Coffee at Midan Talaat Harb.

Egypt, Entry 2

The second of several journal entries from my trip to Egypt in 2004

1/5/04. 9:30 AM.

I thought I was tired when I wrote the last entry. I must have been, as I chose to use this book with the top sheet margin on the bottom. Oh Well.

Yesterday was an *eventful* day.

We met our taxi driver at 9 AM and he drove us to his buddies' stable at the pyramids. We told him that we probably wanted to walk, but he said it was far, and, since he was driving, we ended up at the stables.

We decided to go on horseback to see the sphinx, the sphinx tomb, the 3 big pyramids of Giza and the 6 small pyramids of Giza. We talked him down to 140 Egyptian Pounds (EGP), which was a pretty good price, $25 USD for 2 hours with horses, a guide, and entrance to the small pyramid and sphinx's tomb.

The pyramids were larger than I expected. Galloping through the desert was a blast. Our guide Muhammed was adorable and the photo opportunities on the mountain above the pyramids were much better than those we would have gotten on foot.

In short, it was a great way to start our trip.

Unfortunately, we returned to the hotel in time for me to have a good sized allergy attack from the horses and dust. The pollution doesn't help. I thought it was bad yesterday because my nose burnt with every breath. But this morning, from our balcony, I see that yesterday's haze is only 1/3 of today's brown-grey cloud. It was Sunday yesterday and most of the shops and businesses were closed. I suppose that does make a difference.

After a quick rest at the hotel, R and I walked to the metero, rode to the neighborhood where the Egyptian Student Center was, and got him a youth card. I was *extremely* self-conscious of my open v-neck sweater. Only 3 inches of my neck and upper chest showed. But it was enough to garner stares, comments, and help from an international businessman who blocked me from the hissing on the metro. I quickly realized that I hadn't seen any other women who were showing any skin below their neck.

The travel literature did not adequately prepare me for that reality. Thankfully, R had a windbreaker, which, once I donned, completely changed the reaction I was receiving.

From there, we took the metro to our new hotel, made a reservation, and walked for about an hour and a half downtown, across Gezira, through Zamelek, along the Nile and back to our hotel.

The walk was a great way to get a feel for the city. Once, when we were lost, we asked for directions in English and a nice man, roughly our age, pointed us in the correct direction. Over all, the people are respectful and polite.

With R, I feel very safe. Without him, as this morning in the elevator, I am a target, and a Saudi man felt free to touch my back, arm, etc. Disgusting.

Oh well. At least I have a turtleneck for today's outings. I'm sure the grime in the air will be on my face at the end of the day.

Off to the citadel!

Egypt, Day One

The first of several journal entries from my trip to Egypt in 2004

1/4/04. 2 AM. Cairo - overlooking the Nile.

Almost 24 hours after departing, we arrived (really? I didn't recall the trip being that brutal. Good thing I got it out of my system while I was young).

Despite the fear and warnings of many, I found navigating the airport, taxi, and hotel check-in to be *very* painless. Egypt is friendly and wonderful so far. The typical tourist expensive car at the airport was running, but even though neither of us really speaks Arabic, we were able to get a general service taxi to our hotel.

Our driver spoke passable English and again, horrible attempts at the native language get you *very* far. He is coming to pick us up at 9 AM to go see the Pyramids of Giza.

I'm excited to see them and happy with the feel of Cairo. I expected to be more overwhelmed.

No surprise, our $70 USD hotel room is ridiculously nice. Gorgeous dark hardwood floors, marble in the bathroom, modern wallpaper and molding, and best of all, a balcony on the 17th floor overlooking the Nile. Life is good.

I fear I may not be able to sleep, but a shower and a unisom should do the trick.

Decluttering

Today, my todo list was simple.

1. A 6 mile run with a friend.
2. Do some decluttering of the house.

How decadent! So much free time!

The run was done and I was showered by 10 AM.

So, I gardened.

I collected our first true summer harvest (July 30th is the latest date I've ever experienced for the first real tomato).

E and I biked to a local outdoor hotel restaurant and enjoyed a very american and reasonably-priced brunch around their pool -- the architecture, the elderly crowd, the menu of omelettes and salads and sandwiches, and of course, the view of the pool and the guests frolicking -- it felt like something out of The Graduate.

After a failed attempt at a nap, I cleaned and put things in three boxes for exit, one for trash, one for donation, and one for return to our former renter.

In the course of doing so, I found my journal from Egypt.

After reading it, I decided I will post the entries before I throw it away. Egypt may be the last trip I took without a computer, where I actually kept a written diary.

How times change.

The Down Side of Travel

That aluminum germ tube? Jetting through the air full of recycled coughs, sneezes, etc?

Yeah, Europe gave me one final present.

I've been fighting this cold for 7 days. After 3 days, I had a brief respite when I thought it was gone. But no, it came back that night with a vengeance. It has been much stronger and humbling than any onslaught my body has faced in quite some time.

I've taken to sleeping in the guest room so as not to wake up E.

Prior to this, we've never slept apart if we were both at home. I don't like being away from him in the night. But, I also hated the feeling that I was making both of us suffer with each hack, sniffle, snort, and groan. In an effort to be a polite bed-mate, I was opting not to take advantage of the OTC meds in the middle of the night (which makes noise). Since I've moved to the guest room, I can rustle open the bag of cough drops, and open the pill bottles in the night with impunity.

This morning, I canceled my attendance at a professional event. Last night, I had the realization that even though I'm starting to *feel* better (and likely am no longer contagious), I sound so terrible that it would be a distraction and perceived as extremely rude by those who didn't know how long I'd been fighting the virus.

I can't remember the last time I didn't attend something due to sickness.

Generally, I'm a very healthy trooper. I have allergies, which are mildly annoying, but I almost never get the usual bugs that make the rounds. Historically, I've rarely fallen ill, but when I do, I fall hard, and often with things that no one else seems to catch.

This time fits the pattern. I am the sickest I've been in years. And, miraculously, E appears to have escaped it.

The upside is that I'm so grateful for the wonderful health I typically have and excited to get it back. My goal is remember this thankfulness and celebrate my health going forward.

London

Almost home, but not. Quite. The English Language. But different. Summer. But raining intermittently.

The hip hotels here make me feel like my ordinary self on vacation at home, but for some reason I want to call it "holiday" and there are different toilet flush buttons, odd power outlets, and 0 is the ground floor.

To start our British adventure, we spent a beautifully stereotypical British Night and Day with two of my college roommates.

First, E and I missed our Eurostar train from Paris. This should say something about how laissez-faire Europe had made us. And, in fairness, we didn't really miss it, but we didn't arrive before they closed boarding, so we stared at our train from the platform above for 10 minutes before it departed. They wouldn't let us even try to board. Eventually, they gave us seat assignments on the next train. They did not seem to think the hour between trains should matter. And, since we were on Holiday, they were right.

Note to self, while much has not changed in the decade I've been gone, the Eurostar between France and the UK is much more complex, process-oriented, strict-like-TSA, and takes much more time to manage. If time is of the essence, be sure to arrive with at least an hour to spare for security, customs, etc.

We left the rainy overcast skies of Paris, and after passing through the chunnel were surprised to find London to welcome us with sunshine and an arch covered with Olympic rings that seemed to proclaim the great discovery we quickly made: St. Pancras has free wireless! Ahhh... the sweet sensation of sliding towards home -- the Internet is necessary and ubiquitous here, unlike at Gare du Nord, where we couldn't even pay for access.

After an email to our hosts explaining our delay, we took a quick tube ride to V's house, we walked a Kilometer or so and there we were: Guests in a beautiful Northern London home with dinner reservations for N's birthday at Veeraswamy.

Veeraswamy was easily one of the best meals of the trip, and definitely the finest Indian dining experience of my life. Yummmmm! Thanks to N's friend in LA who sent the recommendation!

Sunday, we slept in, had a big breakfast of toast, coffee, fruit, ham, and cheese. Except the ham was turkey, because our hosts were Jewish. But their kids still called it ham, because they are British and have hefty British accents (despite a German-American-English accented mother and American-English speaking father).

At around 11:30 AM, we finally motivated to move the entire group quickly through one of the breaks in the rain -- we walked through a local park, enjoying a zoo with ring-tailed lemurs, a secret garden, a pergola, a pond, and, in a surprise to all of us, a street fair in Hampstead.

A friend came out to join us for a pint at a good old-fashioned English pub (The Duke of Hamilton), followed by a late lunch at the oh-so-British chain of Pizza Express, then more walking, a Pimm's (although it was overcast and rainy), a relaxing afternoon of catching up and take-out sushi dinner, and a tube ride to our hotel.

Today, we did lunch while enjoying the river views with W (a friend and client) from the restaurant on top of the Tate Modern. We toured W's company's offices in Bankside, did a bit of work, enjoyed the displays of the Tate, took a leisurely walk through St. James Park, Green Park, and Hyde Park (despite the intermittent rain), and treated ourselves to a delicious Moroccan dinner on Edgeware Road.

Tomorrow promises to be more clients, a trip to the science museum, a good-bye dinner with one last college friend (and client), and then it will be time to return to the U.S.

This trip has been one of the best two week periods of my life. I'm the most relaxed I've been in at least 5 years, perhaps longer.

It's as if the return to Europe after a decade of absence was a reset button on my stress levels allowing me to return to a life before law school, before my father died, before my brother was injured, before much of the major stresses in my life. Somehow, my aged self, when put in the face of these slightly foreign cultures that are reminiscent of habits and approaches I freely experienced in my younger days allowed me to let go of my current life and reconsider it in a way I haven't done in quite some time.

I have learned, that at its most basic, I love my life. I love my husband, my family, my friends, and that I've structured my life such that I can travel, because it is extremely important to me.

Here, in these cultures, I've found myself thinking regularly about how important it is that things be done well. Since becoming a lawyer, and likely before, I've always tried to do things both quickly and well, despite the inherent conflict.

Europe seems to understand that conflict, and, if I may be so bold as to generalize, appears to have erred on the side of doing things well. If I lived here full-time, I suspect I would rant like many of my friends have done to us, extolling the virtues of the American end-product-based analysis and service-based economy (when you are a consumer). But, this vacation has allowed me to see and enjoy the benefits of a non-service oriented economy (e.g. a process-based commitment to quality).

Here, my brain feasts on languages I can understand but that are not native, my nose and mouth feast on quality local specialty foods and smells that could make anyone swoon in delight, and my eyes feast on the colors, light, and beauty of Europe's gardens, architecture, and art. How could I not feel blessed? I am happy to say that I took the time to pause, meditate, light a candle and/or say thanks in no less than three of the most beautiful places of worship in the world.

Of course, this rose-colored view of Europe is unfair. Unlike most of my EU friends, I have a big refrigerator and freezer at home. Our gas is cheap and highway tolls are essentially non-existent. When I sit in a restaurant, I don't have to wait 15 minutes wondering if I will be served at all. And, the dollar goes *much* further at home.

But, on balance, this trip was just too much tipped in favor of Europe. In addition to all of the linguistic fun and positive different world-view experiences that gave me things to think about, emotionally, I was able to fit in several visits to friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

And, I was able to share the entire experience with my husband and best friend. At times I wanted to pinch myself with joy. He waited uncountable times while I took just "one more picture." And, even better, he patiently listened and joined me in the verbal rehash of each day as I savored the wonderful remnants of its experiences.

I'm already planning our European return...