UK Adventure part 4: Bonfire Night, and A Farewell to Blighty

One of the reasons we decided to stay the second night in Otley was that they were holding a bonfire.

I'm not sure I can convey how excited I was by this -- I mean, I love a small town celebration, I love festivals, and the only other time I was in the UK on Bonfire Night we went to Lewes for their SPECTACULAR fire parade. Don't get me wrong -- Lewes is THE place to go for Bonfire Night ... but I wanted to see a more traditional celebration. And Otley did not disappoint!

We had spotted the beginnings of the bonfire the day before while we wandered around town:

On the night of the 5th, all bundled up against the bitter cold, we made our way to the Otley RUFC grounds to find a crowd of happy people, a food stall selling pies and peas (traditional bonfire fare) as well as soups. And three bars -- two inside, one outside. And the bonfire had grown:

We wandered around a little, taking in the scene, getting a pint, and then staking out a good position to watch the bonfire. Finally, just before 6:15, after a walk-through by the fire department and a hosing down of the nearby buildings, the bonfire was lit.

It started pretty slowly, and the bonfire crew moved around the edges of the pile lighting the interior wood.

And then, whoosh ... it really took.

And before long, this:

A few minutes later, the entire pile was blazing away, and the staff switched from "lighting" to "spraying down all the neighboring buildings so that they didn't catch on fire". It was pretty astounding to feel the heat, even back at the barricades -- and to watch the buildings hiss with steam when hosed down.

We stood by the fire for about half an hour, then moved along with the crowd to the rugby pitch, where the fireworks had been set up.

waiting in the dark for the fireworks

I wasn't sure what to expect -- I mean, this is a pretty small town, right? Well, we were pleasantly surprised and impressed. A solid 25 minutes of big, booming fireworks. Well done, Otley RUFC.

Fireworks over, we filed out with the happy crowd. Obviously, our next step was the pub ... but which pub??? Since we were feeling a little tired, we decided on "our" pub -- the Black Horse. We had a nightcap, a snack, and then bed. 

After another great breakfast, thanks to the staff at the Black Horse Hotel, we headed south. Not much to tell here -- all was simple and calm until we had to make our way into greater London to drop off our things and the hotel and then drop the car off at the airport. Again, we survived unscathed. 

We spent a nice evening in Richmond -- pubs, river, books, rain -- and then somehow managed to cram all of our purchases into our borrowed suitcase (yes, we bought that much food...) and ate our final order of proper fish and chips while wearing crowns from the Christmas crackers we discovered we would not be allowed to fly home.

I'm not sure when we'll be able to visit the UK again; hopefully it won't take another 6 years to get back. This was an unconventional trip for us -- I am an inveterate planner, so keeping things loose was challenging for me. And many things we thought we'd try to do, such as a Parkrun, or visiting Ironbridge, or visiting National Trust properties, were superseded by better plans. We certainly didn't expect to spend a night in Manchester or see DJ Shadow. We didn't expect to see Miles & Erica, or fall in love with Otley. Our only real plan was to walk in to wherever Sue and Tony were on their anniversary and help celebrate. And we did! 

Several times during our visit -- and, frankly, since we've been home -- we stopped and said, "I can't believe it worked!" Another successful adventure with Team Wil-Sun. 

Sometimes you're the porcupine, sometimes you're the raven.

I ran a half marathon just outside Juneau the other day. The course was a double out and back, run along a fine yet sparsely trafficked road on Douglas Island. On my first leg out, I noticed what seemed like an ENORMOUS pile of offal on the edge of the road: stomach, intestines, various squishy things. But I didn't spot a carcass. This comforted me, slightly -- surely a large predator would have eaten that, so perhaps a careless hunter had field dressed an animal and abandoned the innards?

I didn't notice the pile on my way back -- after all, I was on the other side of the street. I also somehow missed seeing it when I went back out for the second lap. I was struggling, a little, by that time and was just thinking about my breathing and keeping my feet from slapping hard on the wet pavement.

But on my second "back" -- the home stretch of the run -- having been fortified by cheerful high school XC runners bearing brownies and Dixie cups of blue Gatorade (my FAVORITE), my spirits were lifted even higher by the chirpy "ho-ho" of ravens in the trees.

I saw one large raven off to the far side of the road, worrying at something, then looking up and staring. I moved across the road for a better look and noticed he was pecking at something... and gobbling beakfuls of flesh. I couldn't help myself and I had to move closer. As the raven hopped away, I realized it was the remains of a roadkill porcupine, much of it eaten away.

Much of the porcupine's upper body had been stripped to the bone, the quills on his backside protecting his nether regions for now. The great big pile of innards had been pulled out and discarded by the choosy ravens.

After we finished the race, I chatted with an old friend about life, how things were going, etc. I told him about the raven and the porcupine and we both said, "Sometimes you're the porcupine, sometimes you're the raven."

I've been feeling a bit like the porcupine lately. And when my friend told me how much he liked a particular discontinued item and wondered if I could help him get some, and that if I ever left the company I should secure any remaining stock even if it meant combing through the warehouse by myself, I blurted out, "Yeah, about that... I got laid off on Wednesday."

Cure awkward split-second pause as amusement-then-disbelief-then-anger all flashed across his face. Probably the same way as it did across mine when my boss's boss told me the news. Of course, in that room in that other state my focus was on holding a poker face and internally repeating "don't cry, don't cry", and while he droned on about "headwinds" and "tough decisions" and "how hard this is".

NOTE: Should you ever find yourself in a position to lay someone off, don't tell them how hard it is. It's WAY harder for them.

Porcupine, meet truck.

Porcupines have lots of natural defenses. Like a porcupine, I thought my quills skills offered a good defense. Branding boss, e-commerce goddess, email marketing maven, UX-pert, word girl, and team builder extraordinaire... But sometimes a big truck still slams into you.

This past week I have definitely felt like the porcupine. But it's time to start feeling like a raven. Not in an eating-roadkill-by-the-side-of-the-road sort of way, but in a traditional creator/trickster sort of way.

The next few weeks will be hard -- no one likes looking for a job -- but this is a chance to stretch my wings. Wish me luck.

Happy Pi Day!

In celebration of Pi Day, of course we had pie for dinner. A few nifty Pi facts, courtesy of my developer pal Taylor:

Without Pi... we wouldn't have jpeg images

Without Pi... most fonts would have square edges

Without Pi... runners wouldn't be able to track their mileage with a smart device. 

Dining with Daisy, and our non-Disney day

Saturday was going to be a bit unusual for us. Our "deluxe" park passes were blocked out, so we planned a non-Disney day. But I did want to start it off a little special. The PCH Grill at the Pacific Pier Hotel has a character breakfast featuring -- you guessed it -- Daisy. Sure, sure, it's got Mickey and Minnie and friends, but I was there to see Daisy.

(I'm pretty sure that, when I booked the breakfast, it was billed as breakfast with Lilo and Stitch, but that Daisy was also there... but it's now hosted by Mickey.)

We arrived just before our 7am reservations, and were taken to meet Mickey for a photo op. Yeah, I'm a sucker. I bought it...

As we waited the minute or so to meet Mickey, Daisy came out from the back room... saw me, froze, did the shocked up-and-down scan and made a heart shape with her hands. I honestly think it must be a tiny thrill for them.

Then we were quickly seated... off in a corner. This was actually okay by me, since I would be able to see the room. We were a little nervous after our bad experience at the Plaza Inn, where we were told that, if we wanted to see a character, we should just go over to them ... and we got ignored by the characters. But at PCH Grill, the characters were super engaged, and came by repeatedly. We played with Minnie, Pluto, and Stitch…

Of course, the highlight was Daisy. She and I had a little "oh, no, I know you're not putting your feathers on MY DUCK" moment, which was hilarious, at least to the three of us.

Every now and again, the characters went to a dance floor, inviting kids to come dance with them -- pretty cute.

As an added bonus, the food was surprisingly good, there was a good range of vegetarian and omnivore dishes, and our server was super friendly and nice. We even had grownups seated at the next table, which meant there wasn't any awkwardness when the characters did stop by.

Oddly enough, about 15 minutes after we arrived, Daisy disappeared, and we didn't see her again until we were checking out. I just kept thinking about how devastated I would have been if we hadn't seen her. LUCKIEST PEOPLE ALIVE. Seriously. But she came back out and played with us for a little while before going to work the room.

I, of course, was giddy and weepy and So Very Happy.

We then walked back around the park to the hotel, where we showered and napped to prepare for the rest of our totally awesome non-Disney day. What was so awesome, you are asking? Well...

WE WENT TO THE LA BREA TAR PITS!!!!

I have no idea why I wanted to go there, but I did. We walked around the park, saw excavations and fossils and the saddest diorama ever:

MAMA! MAMA!

Next stop on our random tour of Los Angeles places to visit: Sunset Boulevard. Here's the one sad thing -- I knew Wil would be thrilled to go to the Rainbow. Heck, maybe we would even glimpse Lemmy! And, since the Rainbow serves lunch, we thought that a Saturday early afternoon would be great.

But nope. On weekends, the Rainbow opens at 5pm. (Cue fail horn.) So we walked around a bit, had a drink at Rock and Reilly's, and walked around some more. It was amusing sitting on a sunny terrace drinking a cocktail while tour buses came by, telling stories of the Whisky a Go Go (next door), the Viper Room (up the street), and the Rainbow (down the street).

We decided not to wait till 5, but to press on -- next stop, the Venice Beach boardwalk. It was funny, because I have gone for a couple of runs along there when I was in town for work, but it was always first thing in the morning and theerefore very quiet. It's much, much busier during the daytime! We watched muscle men, beach volleyballers, rock bands, artists, and the entire parade of people. We sought out the location of the Xanadu mural, but it was essentially all fake. Still, it meant that I spent a lot of time humming "I'm Alive" while we walked around, so I've got that going for me... which is nice...

Our final stop -- for an early dinner -- was Azteca, the Mexican restaurant on Main Street in Garden Grove where we ran through during... Star Wars? Avengers? Who knows. But a Mexican restaurant with a serious Elvis theme? Count us in.

We walked in, sat down, ordered house margaritas... and then discovered that there was only one vegetarian item on the menu: a blue cheese salad. Oh. But the margarita was nice, the atmosphere was lovely, and we were still happy to patronize a business that had an Elvis impersonator out at the crack of dawn, entertaining half marathoners!!!

Slightly foiled, we drove back to the hotel, dropped off the car, and got takeaway from Gandhi Palace, which we ate on the balcony before laying out our gear for Sunday, Another early night!!!

Mars Rover Marathon

Opportunity leaves the other rovers in the dust. Image by NASA.

Amused to learn that the Mars rover, Opportunity, completed a marathon this week. Sure, it took Opportunity 11 years and 2 months to complete 26.2 miles, but it's still a new course record. Heck, it's a new planetary record. And it's probably a record which will stand for some time...

I don't have an elevation chart, but here's the course map:

 I mean, there's probably not much course support out there... looks pretty desolate... and we know there aren't any water stations anymore.

I conclude these random thoughts with the video that always pops into my mind when I think of the Mars Rover... "Girl look at that Rover....."

True Confession Tuesday: I've never seen a "Rocky" film...

There it is. I've never seen Rocky. I feel as if I know the movie -- I mean, it's got a huge cultural resonance. And since I run a ton of races, I have heard both "Gonna Fly Now" and "Eye of the Tiger" way more than your average person. Way more.

And, of course, one of the classic moments in Rocky is the training montage. I must admit that sometimes when I run, in my mind, it becomes a training montage. (Really? Not when you run? Oh.)

I don't know anything about Philadelphia -- other than that there's an amazing medical history museum there (the Mutter Museum) -- so I had never thought about how far Rocky runs during his various training montages. Of course, someone has.

Dan McQuade, writing in PhillyMag.com details the long, kid-mobbed montage in Rocky II, where Rocky Balboa runs through Philadelphia.

What’s always amused me about this scene is how absolutely little sense Rocky’s route makes: South Philly becomes North Philly becomes the Italian Market becomes North Philly again, and so on. Obviously, the montage isn’t meant to be taken seriously as an actual workout; it’s just a few scenes strung together so “Gonna Fly Now” can play and Rocky can finish at the top of the Art Museum steps.

But, I wondered, what if this roadwork were treated as one actual run? How far would Rocky go? Well, I decided to find out. I pieced together the routes Rocky could have traveled from scene to scene in this training montage and calculated distance. 

Dan measured it all out and, apparently, if Rocky ran it as one stretch, it would be 30.61 miles long. Don't forget that Rocky sprints the last half mile or so flat out,… I guess so that he can run up those stairs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art on his own again…

Read the very funny piece on PhillyMag.com… and remember to try and finish every run with a triumphant run up some stairs so that you can throw some punches and then jump up and down with your fists in the air. 

Funky finger Friday

Well, it's been a week since I had the pins removed, and more than 6 weeks since I broke my finger. My finger still feels pretty stiff, and I'm still a little precious about my entire left hand because I worry about snapping the bone (when will I stop being paranoid about this?).

But I thought it would be worthwhile to post a collection of funky finger pictures for posterity...

Hurty finger:

Broken:

Pin me:

Mended (finger flute!):

Pins!:

Project Repat, or what I did with the box of race shirts in the basement...

Like a lot of runners, I have accumulated a lot of race shirts over the years. Some are very special, like my NYC Marathon shirt, my Goofy Challenge shirts, and even some of my Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon shirts. But others... well... they were too dear to me to throw away, but too numerous (or, in some cases, colorful...) to wear. So I would periodically clear out my "running stuff" drawer and retire a bunch of shirts to the basement.
I'm crafty, so I always had this idea that I would make a t-shirt quilt. You know, just cut 12.5x12.5" squares out of each of the shirts, sew them together, and then quilt them. Nothing fancy, just a nice big throw. But like many of my other would-be craft projects, real life got in the way. I even sent so far as to cut squares out of a handful of shirts... but did nothing more than that.
Then a couple of months ago Groupon offered a "$130 donation to Project Repat" for $65. In exchange for the $65, Project Repat would make a 5" x 6" (essentially exactly the size of a queen-sized mattress with no overlap) quilt if I sent them at 30 shirts. Perfect!!!
Somehow, even digging out the piles of old shirts -- and deciding which ones to "sacrifice" to the quilt -- took a long time. But a few weeks ago I sat down on a rainy afternoon and sifted through the boxes. I'm ashamed to say it was VERY EASY to come up with 30 shirts. Even the act of going through the boxes -- looking at all of the shirts, remembering all of the races -- was great. I also took the opportunity to GET RID of a bunch of shirts -- duplicate, mostly, when Wil and I both ran -- and made up a big box of shirts for Goodwill. So satisfying!!!
I went to the website, picked out my backing fleece (black, of course, though navy is also available), and got out my scissors. I cut the fronts off the backs (to lighten the weight of the package -- though I could have sent them all of the shirts), packed them up, and then waited. I could have paid extra to have the shirts arranged in a particular order or pattern, but the designers at Project Repat will use their best judgement in laying things out. After all, these shirts were just sitting in boxes in the basement; so anything would be better!
A few days later I received a note saying that they had received my shirts, and that if I had any questions I could call them. And then, a couple of weeks after that, I received a note saying my blanket had been shipped. I wasn't in any sort of hurry (BASEMENT!), but was surprised at how quickly they completed the process.
Then today I came home to find a big package on my doorstep:

it's here!

The package was pretty heavy, but I guess a 5'x6' fleece blanket is pretty heavy! I opened it up and found this:

so big I couldn't get all of it in the frame!

Wow!!! It's so great!!! Now, is it the finest example of the quiltmaker's art? No. It's just 30 t-shirts trimmed square, sewn together, and then backed with fleece. It's not actually quilted, per se -- the top and bottom layers are only joined at the outer edges. But the weight of the shirts and the clinginess of the fleece make them feel as if they are joined. The corners of the top are well matched, the stitching is even, and the way they laid out the colors is really pleasant. I am absolutely thrilled by my new blanket.
Wil -- who I think may have been a bit dubious at the idea of this -- was also really impressed... and we both started thinking that maybe we could surrender a few more shirts -- even the "precious" ones -- and make another, larger quilt one day.
Best of all, however, is that Project Repat is here in the US, and provides fair-wage jobs to textile workers. They work with NuPath, Inc., which trains and employs people with disabilities. And as Project Repat has grown, they have brought in an additional production partner: 99 Degrees Custom, and are helping them get their business off the ground. You can learn more about Project Repat -- or order your own t-shirt quilt -- at www.projectrepat.com.

Kiki approved

This post is my contribution to this week's Running Bloggers Fitness Friday Linkup -- because every runner has a box of race shirts in their basement!!

Stick a needle in my eye....

I've got eye issues. I've had them since I was a kid. It seems like I've had different sorts of issues, at different times. Things will be fine for a few years, then something flares up and I spend some quality time with my eye doctor. After last November's big eye pressure action, we decided that, this year, it would be time to do the cataract surgery we started talking about over a decade ago.

I went in last Friday to have my eye measured. They used several different machines, including one where I looked into a cone shape of concentric circles... sorta like this, only purple and black

It produced a brightly colored printout that looked a bit like this:

After that machine, there was another machine, and then a really terrible one with water, a laser, and a cup over my eye. The less said about that one, the better...

Then I was taken through all of the cataract surgery information .... the nurse was very, very thorough, and there were lots of slow, detailed explanations. We both kept laughing and saying that, well, the standard patient for this procedure is, well, thirty years older than I am. So it's good to be VERY CLEAR with instructions.

Then yesterday I had a "procedure" to help prep my eye for the cataract surgery next month. I was having an Ozurdex injection -- basically having a pellet of steroids injected into my eye. The pellet will slowly dissolve over the next few weeks, serving the dual purpose of cleaning up any inflammation in my eye before the surgery, and helping recover faster after.

I didn't really know what to expect. Other than that they were going to STICK A NEEDLE IN MY EYE. So I guess I expected something like this:

Antique Dewitt & Herz Veterinary Syringe, Chrome Plated, Germany c. 1890

I am smart enough not to actually look at what the Ozurdex applicator looks like, even now -- heck I'm having this done on my other eye later this year. So for now, ignorance is bliss.

I didn't realize until the night before that I would actually have the option of being knocked out. What? You mean I don't have to WATCH you come at me with a needle? Sign me up.

When we got to the doctor's office, Wil settled in to the waiting room while I was whisked back to get ready. Booties on my shoes, one of those lovely caps on my hair (bringing back memories of my mom and her fellow O.R. nurses), and a fetching hospital gown over my clothes. Sean, my nurse, helped get me comfortable on the chair/bed thing, while another person gave me a heated blanket. Ahh, the joy of a heated blanket.

I signed paperwork, confirmed that, yes, it was the LEFT eye we were going to work on, Sean drew a big black X over my left eye -- something I forgot about until hours after I got home and Wil asked if I was planning on removing it. Ha.

Then the drops started. A simple numbing drop -- probably the bright yellowy one. After that was in for a while, they put a bunch of lidocaine gel in my eye -- which was weird because I could see it, but I couldn't feel it. Look down at my feet, look up past my forehead, and then close my eyes. Okay. While that was taking effect, they put the IV shunt in my hand and started hooking me up to a bunch of monitors. Sean told me that, if they had it in stock, I was probably going to be given Propofol -- Michael Jackson's drug of choice. OoooooOOOOOOooooohhhhh. Because they were going to knock me out, they put a small oxygen tube in my nose and told me to try and remember to breathe through my nose. Even when I was out.

Though the bustle I just tried to lie there quietly, breathing deeply. Through my nose.

They gave me a second gloop of lidocaine gel, and, while my eyes were closed, wheeled me into the bright lights of the operating room. Eric the anesthetist told me that he would be there throughout the procedure keeping me happy (I had told him that I was 'pro-drug, anti-discomfort' when medical things were concerned). I heard Dr. Carroll and remembered to ask him how long before I could run. He said, "Saturday".

And then they were sitting me up in the chair. My eyes were closed, I felt a little funny, and the first thing I said was, "When can I run?", which made them laugh. I opened my eyes and said, "Oh. You're already done, aren't you?"

Yep.

I sat there for a little while as they took all the various sensors off, took the IV out, and basically came to. As I sat there I heard the Eric say quietly to Sean, "Yeah, but who's Charley?" I said, "Oh, that's my brother. Did I say his name?" They laughed -- a little embarrassed -- and said, "No, no. That's just an anesthetist joke. I used to always say that when people came to, but then one day a woman was horrified that she might have said the name of her brother-in-law, because she had a huge crush on him. Awkward!"

(How great is it that there are anesthetist jokes?)

Then after a few minutes I basically got up, gave them my booties, hat, and gown, and left. Rebecca had arrived to drive us all home, and that was it. No pain -- other than slightly itchy eyes for a bit. The one weird thing is that I can actually "see" the steroid pellet bobbing around in my eye. It's not visible to anyone else -- it's inside my eye, after all -- but it's always there, just at the top of my vision. I know that I will probably stop noticing it -- and that it will dissolve away in time -- but boy oh boy is it distracting now.

I'm taking it easy the rest of the week -- no boot camp, no running -- though I might go for a tiny little run on Saturday or Sunday.... So hopefully this blog can go back to running soon!

Me, myself, and eye... part 2

A hopefully quick off-topic note before we get back to the usual running stuff...

My eye felt a bit weird on Tuesday morning, so when I called to find out when I could come in for the procedure, we just decided to go ahead and have it done that afternoon. I honestly didn't know what to expect, but had come to imagine the laser as looking a little like this:

Or, okay, if not that big, then at least in the form of a shark with a frickin' laser beam mounted on its head:

But in the end, it just looked like this:

Oh. I don't even lie down? I just rest my chin on the fresh sheet of tissue paper? I see.

But the staff was lovely and friendly, Wil was allowed to sit in the room with me the whole time. First I was given a drop to make my pupil constrict really small so that my iris would be stretched taut. Then I was given a numbing drop. And then I just sat around and waited. The nurse told me that some people experienced a "brow ache" after taking the constricting drop, which I didn't really understand. Until a few minutes later I felt a weird pain... in my eyebrow. How weird is that?!?

After a bit, Dr. Carroll came in, took a look at my eye, and explained a bit about what was going to happen and why we were doing it -- probably for Wil's benefit more than mine. Then he put some goop on a special contact lens, put it in my eye, and told me to lean into the machine and look straight forward. 

I tried to breathe calmly, to open my eyes and think of England.... At the back of my mind I started to worry that there would be a smell... you know, a burning smell. But I just focused on breathing in, breathing out, and looking straight forward. 

Then with a strangely loud mechanical, metallic CLUNK, the laser started. My eye was filled with a red light for a few seconds, and then, done. Dr. Carroll removed the lens (which is essentially a guide so the laser only hits on spot), I sat back, and that was it. 

I was given some more drops, had a follow-up appointment set, and I was released. 

It didn't hurt -- but it wasn't comfortable. And the clunk the solid-state laser made probably made me yelp. Afterward my eye felt a little sore, a little tired, and still a little blurry, but otherwise okay. Oh, and, no, there wasn't a burning smell. Thank heavens.

That night I took my steroid drops, as usual, which made it hard to sleep (as usual). So I gave up at 3am  Wednesday and just got up and worked. I decided to work from home just so I could be closer to the doc if needed, but I was actually pretty okay all day. And I should point out that the 12 hours I worked at home were probably as productive as two full days in the office, so that was also good. 

This morning I had a follow-up appointment with the doctor, who told me my pressure numbers were good and low -- under 10 in each eye. So I can continue to taper the drops (and hopefully increase my sleep!), and I'll check in with him again on Tuesday. 

It's been a scary couple of weeks, and I know I'll still have to go in next year and have the big surgery done, but the crisis seems to have been averted for now. Fingers crossed, eh? 

My, myself, and eye...

Completely off-topic here, but I want to write about it. I hope to return to my usual running-related blather soon...

A few weeks ago the vision in my left eye got a little fuzzy. I've had bad eyes since I was a kid, but for the last several years I've been lucky to have only a few uveitis / iritis flare-ups in my right eye. But I try to be careful and aware of my eyesight. A day of slightly bleary eyes isn't a big deal ... but a few days starts to make me nervous.

So on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving I called to make an appointment. Given that it was Thanksgiving week, the office would be closed on Thursday and Friday, and my doctor was out of the office on the Wednesday, but I figured I would rather see a doctor who was familiar with my eyes, so made an appointment for Cyber Monday. (Yeah, great timing for an e-commerce person, I know...)

I wasn't that worried over the weekend. My eye was a little blurry, but not all the time. I did feel like my night vision was getting worse, but since more and more of my friends seem to have the same issue, I figured it might just be middle age. (ha ha ha).

But then at work on Monday my left eye was so blurry that I couldn't read unless I covered my left eye and used my right. Yeah, not a good sign at all. I drove home in the bright sunshine, frankly worried about how badly I could see in the flickering light. I dropped the car off at home and walked down to the doctor's office.

When the tech came in to measure my vision and my eye pressure, she seemed a little surprised with how bad my eyesight was. But when she took the pressure, she took it, looked at the instrument, took my pressure again, then ran from the room.

Uh-oh.

A few moments later Dr. Carroll came in and said, "Well, apparently you have an awesome eye." I told him I was a little surprised by the tech running out of the room, and asked what was up. He took a look, said my eye was really inflamed and the pressure was quite high. He prescribed three sets of medicines -- a steroid eye drop, a set of steroid pills, and some glaucoma meds he referred to, cheekily, as the "pressure drop".

I went away feeling scared, with an appointment to check in with him the next day. While walking to the pharmacy to pick up the drugs I called Doug to tell him what needed to be done before tomorrow -- and, me being me, broke down in tears. This freaked him out a bit, and he asked if I wanted to catch my breath and call him back. That was enough of a disconnect that I reset and just listed out three things he needed to take care of.

I spent the afternoon taking steroids (not the strength kind, mind you...) and having a pint or two of cider with Wil and Suz.

The next day I went back in and had my eyes checked again... the pressure had dropped from the 50s down to less than 10; a much better number. One more check in later in the week and my eyes were doing okay again, so the crisis seemed to have been averted.

By the way, I did ask whether running the Quadzilla could have had an effect on my eye, or whether I should stop running. I was assured that there was no connection, and that I could run and fly and endure a week in Vegas. (ha ha).

So I went to Vegas, land of recycled air, and survived. But over the weekend at home I felt like my left eye was a little fuzzy again. Now, whether it was tiredness or too many eye drops or what, I didn't worry too much. But today, Monday, it seemed fuzzy. Growing fuzzier. I sat in a meeting at 11am and thought that my eyesight was getting progressively worse... and I even felt a slight weight or pain in my eye.

As I left the meeting I turned to Doug and said, "My eye has gotten very blurry again -- I'm going to go to the eye doctor." And I packed up and left. 40 minutes later I was at the doctor's office, asking the front desk to let me in. Luckily, I came right after lunch and they were able to fit me in pretty quickly.

This time the tech didn't run from the room, but she did measure the pressure twice. And Dr. Carroll came in and said, "Well hi there." I said, "I didn't think you could bear not to see me for two weeks..." and then apologized for feeling like a hypochondriac, but that my vision was blurry and my eye hurt. He said, "Well, your pressure is way up again, so your instincts were completely correct."

I asked the pressure level -- this time in the mid 40s -- and said, 'Well, it's not as bad as last time."

Apparently what's happening is "closed angle glaucoma" -- where the drainage angle in my eye that should allow the aqueous humors to drain out has been blocked by my iris... a side-effect of the long-term damage my eye has been through. The aqueous humors cannot drain, which causes pressure to build up, which can harm the optic nerve and cause permanent damage. Neato.

He then told me that I needed to have a small procedure on my eye -- a laser iridotomy -- which will create a small hole in my iris so that the humors can drain. Not really sure how I feel about that, but I've read a lot and it seems that it's a pretty minor procedure. I asked if I would have any down time after the procedure, and Dr. Carroll said, "Not really. Your eye won't feel any worse than it does now... a bit hurty, with blurry vision."

I don't have my actual appointment yet, but I should be going in on Wednesday. Stay tuned for updates.

Leaving Las Vegas

Okay, so it isn't really running-related. Other than the fact that I am running out of town as fast as I can....

Other than the half marathon (PR!!!) on Sunday, the only exercise I got while at the conference was a short swim on Wednesday and a run on Thursday... So much for good intentions!

I also just feel doughy and flabby - even though the culinary choices were pretty limited, I think I still managed to overeat. Again, so much for good intentions!

But next week should be better. I am going to join a new boot camp for the four weeks until we go to Orlando for the Goofy. I think I will also be able to go to Nijah's Zumba class on Thursdays at work. And of course I have a lot of running to do.... So here's to going home, getting healthy again, and finishing the year on a high!

Anacortes

Spent two days this week in Anacortes, working on a photo shoot to showcase our Fall 12 collection. But it wasn't all work -- I also managed to have a gorgeous run. But I'm getting ahead of myself a little.

Went to a kick-ass workout on Wednesday morning with Kerry at boot camp. How she manages to keep it fresh and fierce week after week I don't know. Then home for a quick shower, and then the drive up to Anacortes. No traffic to speak of, so I arrived a tiny bit early -- and got to meet the neighbors:

Asa and friend

Tanner the donkey

Also met Mustafa, the photographer, his wife Rosemary, and Rian the stylist. Soon after, Simon, our model for day one, arrived. We got set up and started shooting. We only had eight looks to capture on day one. The team was great -- everything went absurdly smoothly. We had a leisurely lunch on the patio in the sunshine and watched some barn swallows fledge -- Mustafa looked like a very proud papa watching the babies fly!

I always have this idea that I'll get loads of work done on a shoot -- I'll have all this quiet time to get little things done in-between shots. Nope. There's always lots to do! And, as I used to remind myself in my TMO days, we were paying a lot of money for the photo shoot, so it's important for me to focus my attention on getting great shots.

Of course, it's not glamorous. There's a lot of standing around and wondering if jackets should be zipped or open, how the model should place his feet, his hands, etc. Here's what it looks like when we're working:

Mustafa examining the lighting on a test shot, Simon wearing Brooks "Brite Orange"

Mustafa shooting another test shot while Simon relaxes

Rian the stylist adjusting Simon's jacket; one of our selects is visible on the monitor

With only eight shots to capture, we wrapped pretty early. I gave Simon his choice of product -- a couple of pairs of shoes, some clothes. I always feel it's nice to leave the models with a really nice feeling -- and it's also nice to have good looking folks running in our products! Plus, I simply wasn't going to try to get the clothes folded up and back in their plastic bags...

After we wrapped, Rian prepped all the clothes for the second day of shooting while I went through and narrowed down the shots to a few selects for each outfit. I would take those back with me to pick the final set later.

Rosemary made dinner reservations for the four of us at Anthony's at 6, which still gave me time to go to the hotel (the fabulous Holiday Inn Express Burlington...), stop in at a running store to find a place to run on Thursday morning, and have a little wander around Anacortes.

Anacortes marina

boat launch

gorgeous!

We had a nice dinner -- and spent a lot of time talking about all of our cats! -- at Anthony's, but then I needed to go back to the hotel to try and get some work done. I did work for about an hour, but was feeling strangely tired so I just decided to have a hot back and was in bed by 10.

Up early on Thursday to go for a run on the Tommy Thompson Trail, a super cute little route that follows an old railway line. I joined at the "34th Street Station" (perhaps there was once actually a station of the narrow gauge there?) and headed out.

Lovely, flat, nicely paved -- it went past a couple of warehouses / buildings before simply following the edge of the bay. The morning was GORGEOUS -- a bit cloudy, with some great morning light. The water was calm and had that thick, syrupy look I love. 

The woman at the running store told me "you run towards the refinery" which didn't seem particularly scenic, but it actually was.

After a little while, the trail ran through an RV park -- seemed like a fantastic spot to camp! Not a lot of people were up and about, so I felt a little funny running past the sleeping campers.

Then I ran out across a spit of land -- which I assumed at first was the railway trestle? Nope.

This, my friends, is a railway trestle:

Apparently they had a terrible fire on the trestle a few years back -- but through a huge community fundraising effort, they were able to repair/rebuild the trestle. And it was worth it -- it's a lovely, lovely trail!

I reached the end of the trail -- which really just stops with a sign noting that the road is narrow and frequented by large vehicles (tankers from the refinery, I'm assuming). But I also reached the halfway point on my run, so it was the perfect time to turn back.

The morning was getting brighter, and the views kept getting prettier -- even if I was just quickly snapping pictures as I ran.

Finally, I finished the 30 minutes -- yay me! -- and snapped this shot back towards the refinery. Lovely. Whenever I run on a pretty trail like that I imagine what it would be like to live nearby and have that as my local run. Of course, we're spoiled here with Green Lake and the Burke-Gilman Trail being so close -- but I can easily imagine running the TTT every couple of days if I lived in Anacortes.

After finishing my run, I went back to the hotel, showered, had a bit of breakfast (though I didn't want to wait in the queue for the "pancake printer"...) and then headed to the studio for day two. We had 10 shots to do, and a slightly sleepy model, so the day was longer. But in the end we got some great shots, and I'm excited about seeing them on BR.com. All in all a great little trip!