New Running Shoes

I happened to have about an hour with no children today, so I decided to zoom to the running store and try to buy some new shoes. [Side bar: On the way there, I saw a 50+ year-old woman jogging along a busy street with the heat radiating off the asphalt. It was 4:09 p.m. and approximately 99 degrees outside in our fair city. You go, girl! --as for me, I'm turning up the a/c.]

Friendly running store guy was there to greet me. I told him I had strayed from Asics on my last purchase but I wanted to come back. He didn't have any in my giant size, but had two boxes full of Asics just arrived so he cut 'em open. Not one pair in my size. It was then I noticed the piles of sale shoes on a nearby table and running store guy helped me find some options.

Keep in mind how excited I was to be getting new shoes. It has been way too long. I've more than worn out the pair of shoes I bought originally for hiking. And buying shoes for running makes me feel like I'm for real with this sport. So I open the first box, and this was my immediate thought:

"They look like pee."

Who designs shoes in pee color? But then the cool side of my brain kicked in and I remembered that everybody seems to be wearing neon these days and these shoes were NEON, not PEE.

Right? That's what I want you to repeat in your mind right now: "Neon, not pee." Color is important. For instance, my last shoes were black. I have no business, with my ultra-white legs, wearing black running shoes, socks, shorts, capris, bathing suit, or tutu. I can't pull it off. I shouldn't pull it off. So I'm happy that these shoes are primarily white. And the neon will make me feel cool in the same sort of way that it made me feel cool in seventh grade, which is to say: not at all, even though I'm trying.

Thinking and Praying

I have been thinking often of the three women and child who escaped from captivity recently. 

I can't imagine being kidnapped, sexually, physically, and emotionally abused. But I have experienced birth and motherhood. Motherhood! Motherhood is fall-on-your-face challenging in good circumstances! How did this woman mother a baby, then a toddler, then a young child without the support of others outside their terrible situation? Somehow she did it and in my eyes that seems heroic. I admire these women and their perseverance. And I just feel very very sad about what they went through. So I keep begging God to restore and heal them. Dear Lord, please pour your peace and comfort and great mercy on these women. Please help them find you in the midst of their recovery. Please help them feel and receive the love of family and friends. 

Today, on Mother's Day, bless them with joy. As much as they can handle.

With all the pain I know of in the lives of people on the news and in my own neighborhood, help me trust you in new and bigger ways. 

Amen

Me and the Creosote

If all of your friends are busy with their lives not climbing mountains... should you still go? At first, I thought no - in the event of an ankle sprain it would be too embarrassing to call for a helicopter and too harrowing to drag myself down the trail face in the dirt and over the rocks and cacti. But then! Then I remembered I have a dog! So this morning at a cool and early hour we set off for the Anthem trailhead to climb Black Mountain.

I am new to dog ownership, and to heading off into the wilderness without another human. I admit I had thoughts of "will this dog eat my face if I fall and die?" which is an unnecessary question. What I should have been asking is: "Am I strong enough to stay upright when I'm mid-step over some sharp rocks and Shyla darts full-muscle after a lizard?" The answer to that one is, "Yes." Though I must have muttered, "Damn dog" about 4,000 times up and back. She would often stop right in the center of the narrow trail. Perhaps she smelled a mountain lion. I have no way of knowing, since she can't talk. So generally I'd just shove her hind quarters and hope to not get attacked.

This trail is fairly easy until you make the ridge climbing to the top, and there is plenty of time to stop and smell the creosote, which I did.

It wasn't only MY friends who couldn't climb Black Mountain today, it was most of the city. The only humans I encountered were:

Nice Old Man Wearing White Dress Gloves - he set me straight early on when I stood wondering where the trail picked up after the pavement ended. He also told me he climbs halfway up every single day. And that I would have to do a lot of rock scrambling but when it got the hardest I should look up and I'd see the flag at the peak, almost there!

Shirtless Jogger Guy - he passed me a mile into the hike and went a ways further, then turned around and ran back down. The guy has GOT to have some killer ankles.

Stoic Woman With White Hat, Dog, and Incredible Tan - she arrived at the peak about ten minutes after I did, nodded toward me, and then disappeared down the South side (where there is no trail). I hoped I wasn't the last person ever to see her alive. I wasn't. She reappeared later, still unfriendly, when I was about three-fourths of the way down.

Nicer Woman With Lab/Chow Mix - as I completed the descent, she was beginning her hike and we stopped to talk about our dogs for a minute. So I guess the point is taken that I am not the only woman to go hiking alone with my dog.

My hiking book labels this hike "Difficult." Well, I wouldn't say it was easy, but it wasn't crazy difficult. The trail is easy to follow and climbs pretty gently. It was fun to hike along the ridge leading to the peak for the last twenty to thirty minutes. I sat at one point to give Shyla some water and snapped this photo of the sun coming right over the peak. It's kind of a novel photo, but it will serve to remind me how I couldn't look up at my goal very often during the ascent because it was just too dang bright.

From this point it was less than fifteen minutes to the top. When we got there, I was beaming! Seriously, I was smiling and had tears in my eyes! Not even sure why - maybe there's some euphoria that comes with reaching a peak and that's why people do it. I'm in. And I can attest that during my time up there, I had no thoughts of my usual worries and concerns. I just took in the view.

We all know how windy it gets in our desert. Look at that poor flag - I oughtta have a Boy Scout I know replace it. Behind the flagpole is the view to the southwest including a chunk of Anthem.

Looking North including the Strip and downtown Vegas. It says S x J on the rock. Maybe they meant S + J but that is clearly a multiplication sign.

Toward Frenchman's (Sunrise) Mountain. I would like to climb that one in the Fall.

My hiking book said this peak offered views "deep into Arizona." Well, there you go!

I tried not to disturb this mark as that can result in imprisonment.

My sweet hiker-dog and me. I was ultra-happy. Shyla's look is less decipherable.

I signed in to the nifty notebook at the peak. Kinda scrawled my name since I was still a little shaky from exertion. As I look at this, I see that Butchi Bruch was the last to summit on Friday. And my photo cuts off his note, but he cited this as his 11th time climbing Black Mountain. Butchi, branch out!

And here is the view of the way down. For some seasoned hikers, the descent takes far less time than the ascent. For ME, it took the same amount of time. I am, let's say, "delicate" when it comes to downhill. I got off-trail once but figured it out pretty quickly when the ridge became too far to my left and the steepness was scaring the willies outta me. All was right in the world when Stoic Woman With White Hat, Dog, and Incredible Tan reappeared (not dead) and we reached fairly level ground. Shyla mastered switchbacks, which perplexed her on the way up, only yanked my shoulder out of joint four or five times to chase lizards, and if there were any mountain lions, I never had any knowledge of them.

The Shrub Spoke to Me

When you read the story of God speaking to Moses in the burning bush, do you get a little jealous? I do. Probably kinda narrow of me, but I'd like that kind of hard-to-ignore communication.

I was running down the street yesterday and it happened to me. A shrub spoke to me! Unfortunately, it was just the shrub, not God. Also unfortunately, the words were completely inaudible. But here's the very shrub, which I went back later to photograph.

Like I said, the words were inaudible. But the look of the thing made me laugh out loud mid-stride. I kid you not, in a quarter-second glance I recognized that this shrub was my life! Look at the tangled viney things weaving all willy-nilly. And delicate white flowers shooting out in all directions! And what the heck are the mauve-colored feathery things? I don't know! What IS this bush? I've never noticed it before. And yet, there was a whole row of them along a sidewalk I've run a hundred times.

What a strange bush. What a strange life. Green and living and reaching for the sun but all tangled within. Flowers everywhere. And fancy feathers that almost don't go. Sometimes not noticed and other times you stop and take a picture.

And since this is already so esoteric, I might as well show you the photo my little guy insisted I take:

27 Down

One week in to 100-mile May. I'm a more settled person than a week ago when my exercise was sporadic. At the end of this first seven days, I've run or fast-walked 27 miles. That's a marathon! It feels good. If I could have one wish granted, it would be to bottle this drive for use when apathy and lethargy take over my brain, heart, and legs. I'm already worried about what will be the challenge in June. For now, I suppose, I'll bury that concern and go to sleep so I can rise early and get out there and RUN! 

Ivanhoe

Tonight three friends came over to talk about Ivanhoe. I hadn't finished it, which is a strike against me in the book group. But I made a cheese ball from scratch, which keeps me in good standing. My idea of a good night: a book group meeting, a cheese ball, and fodder for a blog post when my exhaustion and writer's block are severe.

What I Wore Sunday

This WIWS will be fun because I did something recently I don't often do: shop! I picked up this J. Jill t-shirt for about $3.00 at Savers after my coupon discount. I'm happy about this as I have loved J. Jill for years. I used to look at their catalogs and admire every single item from cover to cover. But when I went to a store, in Rancho Cucamonga, I think, I didn't have great luck. That was years ago, though, and I'm pretty happy to own this soft shirt with a nice neckline in brand-new condition for so cheap!

My skirt is Coldwater Creek. It's a few years old and I love it. It has withstood about 900,000 washings and kept its shape. It's very "twirly" as my girls would say, but let me tell you the downside of twirly. To be twirly, there needs to be a lot of fabric. This particular fabric is Rayon with just a touch of Spandex. It's very lightweight, which is wonderful when you live in a hot desert climate, but not so great when you go to the restroom and accidentally tuck a small fold into your underwear. TWICE, people!--- TWICE I have been stopped in public by dear, respectable old women who whispered in my ear that my panties were showing. HORROR! This is only supposed to happen to elementary-aged girls, NOT 40+ moms!!! Some people would toss the misbehaving article of clothing into the trash, but you can't do that when you're on a budget AND it's a twirly article of clothing. Now I just check and double check in the mirror after I potty.

Sandals came from DSW years ago. I like them and hope they last me another summer. Fossil watch; tiny flower necklace from my childhood; hoop earrings older than my children, and a Target headband rounds off my outfit.

I'm happy to say that I pulled together this outfit PLUS this morning's Mass attendance even in my husband's absence. It's an accomplishment to make it out of my pajamas when he's gone. Praise God three out of four children dress themselves! Now, let's go see if anyone else in this linkup writes about accidentally showing their underwear in public...