Return to the Ocean

My parents may be in a position to refute this, but I feel I have been in love with the water since I was a small child. After getting my first taste of the ocean in first grade, I have always loved visiting the shore. Growing up in the Midwest, trips to the ocean were few and far between - neighborhood pools and the family homestead lake were more familiar - but a move to Maryland brought day outings to Bethany Beach and Ocean City and my first taste of sand (literally) as I tried to dive beneath a wave.

I suppose I should clarify. I do love the ocean, but I love the ocean when it's active. I love the wind whipping up waves onto the shore. I love the pull of the tide, the water gripping around my ankles. I love drying off in the sun after my lips have puckered from too much salt and my skin is battered red from sand.

One of the unexpected joys of living in eastern NC has been the close proximity of the beach. The North Carolina coast is extremely varied; at some points the shore runs almost perfectly east-west while others - i.e. aptly named Surf City - run at a perfect 45° angle, creating awesome opportunities for surfing.

Or, in my case, body-surfing.

In years past James and I have been able to go to the beach as early as mid-April. This year, the funky weather patterns had us waiting until the big summer kick-off weekend; this past Sunday we headed down with untold others to enjoy Sunday at the beach.

After lathering up with sunscreen (which, of course, was not enough, never is), I laid out with my newest edition of The Sun, soaking up some sun before heading out into the delightfully large waves (thank you, tropical depression!), and found myself immediately enthralled with Ariane Conrad's interview of Ran Ortner.

©Ran Ortner, Deep Water No. 1

Beautiful. Incredible. Stunning, especially when you consider this particular painting is twenty-four feet long and six feet tall.

This gave me a better perspective.

The full interview is not yet available online, so I'll share some pieces I found truly moving.

"People often describe themselves as either a mountain person or an ocean person. I grew up in Alaska with both: mountains coming right down to the water.

In a sense, the mountains and oceans are similar. They mountains heave up with the collision of tectonic plates and then erode down, just as the waves rise up and then crumble. They just operate on different timelines. What I respond to in the ocean is that the waves break in synchronicity with the beating of my heart, the in and out of my breath. The ocean feels like a better subject for me to wrestle with.

In the ocean I see the collision of life and death: the rising of each weave is life insisting on itself, and in the trough I see death. These high points and low points are all part of the larger dance. You really feel the lament of the ocean, and at the same moment there's a generosity, because the waves keep coming. These forces are working back and forth endlessly.

[...]

There are tempests and dark depths. You do not mess with the ocean. It will pummel you and chew you up. It is devastatingly brutal. And yet it can be luminous and delicate and tender. We clean our wounds there. What a reflection of our own impossible nature. We're so brutal, so base, so horrific, and yet we have the capacity for such tenderness, such warmth, such empathy, such generosity."

Dodging Rain

These are the clouds that have been rolling across the sandflats for the past week. And in the belly of these clouds are rogue storms that gleefully dump rain, steam up windows, and make for altogether confusing days - is it going to be hot? chilly? rainy? sunny?

Today I drove home with the sole intention of beating the next big storm. And I did. I ran in the steambath, dodging the random droplets.

I really noticed today how landscaping and foliage changes the air. Running past the homes in my neighborhood showcasing tightly trimmed lawns and modest boxwoods I burst through pockets of cool air that tumbled down from the clouds. Homes whose yards are ruled by old growth trees and azaleas their blanket of needles, half rotted leaves and other detritus practically belch out clouds of their own - rich with the smell of earth, heavy with the smell of stored rain, and as warm as a human breath.

Sun-Eyed Girl

James calls this my "summer song."

It's the one that I inevitably want to play when we're almost to the beach because I played it the first time we visited the North Carolina coast five years ago - I zoomed down the windows to let in the briny air, turned up the radio, and bounced in my seat like the five year old I was at that moment.

I also, until this moment, always thought the lyrics were "summer girl" - happily, I like the corrected version even better.

While we've been hanging about in rainforest-like conditions all week, summer is almost here and the beach - bodysurfing, frisbeeing, and squinting into forever - is beckoning.

Friday.

It's another one of those days when the blue skies of North Carolina seem endless. To make it even better - the air is dry, the temperatures are down, and it's FRIDAY, baby.

I am savoring every run I get in this unseasonably cool May; each one I pretend is my last (we did get our first heat wave last week, complete with full humidity) and I can feel myself smiling as I run.

Nothing too fancy this week; just a couple of The Usuals with James bookending a midweek vinyasa yoga class. With the cool, dry weather spilling into the weekend, I think I've got James talked into returning to Umstead for our first trail run of 2012 on Sunday. Can't. Wait.

Oh! Well, hello there.

I realize that posting today means that I haven't posted in three weeks.

And it's not because I haven't been running. Or am lacking things to write about. It's more that I'm...going through a drought, a drought of creative juices.

I had an awesome run with my sister Emily the Saturday after the RunRaleigh half. She took me to the Monarch Levee Trail on a sunny, breezy, chilly Saturday. We talked about her plans to run the Disney World Marathon on January 13, 2013 (!) - rock on, lady!

The heat finally turned on in Goldsboro this past week, and James was ever so kind to slow down to run with me while I re-baptized myself in the heavy summer humidity of Eastern NC.  He spliced an extra couple of miles into The Usual run, making our 4 miles a 10K.

And today's long run with James and David was just what I needed after staffing a booth for work handing out popsicles on a 90° day.  It was cloudy and cooler, but humid and windy, and after a slow start, I hung pretty well with the boys on this 11-miler.

With no races scheduled in my immediate future, I think I'm going to try and focus on some rigorous cross-training as we are flung into summer. Some yoga, most definitely; some cycling, possibly?

Here's to the summer!

RunRaleigh Half Marathon

Year of Firsts: run a sub-2 hour race in Raleigh, CHECK!

Before I get into a race recap, let me start by saying that I am terrifically happy that I both a) ran with James and b) started and stopped by Garmin as I was going through the chutes. I say this because:

Do you see what I see? My chip and clock time registered as the same. Since I'm not crazy and was not toeing the actual start line, this can't possibly be right. James and I ran the whole thing together and crossed almost simultaneously, so my chip time should be -/+ 1-3 seconds of his. So, since I was actually diligent enough with my own GPS timing system:

I officially claim 1:59:57.

The course the folks at Capital RunWalk selected for this inaugural race was absolutely phenomenal. Raleigh is hilly and, as I've experience previously, the route the directors select can maximize or minimize the pain that they can inflict upon racers. Luckily for us, the latter was served up today.

As you can see, it trended downhill on the front and uphill on the back, but on the whole, it was a series of small hills (up, then down), which was a lovely trick on the body. We also got to run along Walnut Creek Trail of the Capital Area Greenway. (A place I will definitely visit again!)

I went out too fast and paid for it later; but having James run with me was definitely a huge help, especially during those last few miles. My original goal was to a) run the whole thing without stopping (something I had not been able to do at either Raleigh Rocks or City of Oaks) and b) run a 2:05 (decreasing my previous Raleigh race times by 5 minutes). Going into the final 5K at under 1:30, I turned to James and said, "Unless I totally bonk, I've got another sub-2 in the bag." He wisely said, "You mean, as long as there are no unforeseen monster hills?"

The entire race I had been fairly conservative with the uphills - shortening my strides, pumping my arms, and focusing on not stopping - but pretty aggressive with the downhills, and as the race went on, I knew my quads were going to be trashed at the end. Nevertheless, I kept tackling the hills one at a time. But there, at the start of the last mile, was the doozy. In a mere quarter of a mile, we gained nearly 100 feet of elevation. When I realized that I could walk faster than I could run, James and I slowed up and used the opportunity to stretch out our legs.

Coming into the straightaway - blessedly, downhill! - I had just about a minute left. I used gravity to my advantage and just let 'er rip!

1:59:57. I'll take it.

Awesome course, awesome day.

Good Friday

Last Friday was my second day off of work since 2012 commenced. It turned out to be a very full and strange day.

The temperature plummeted down to 40° Thursday night, so I woke to a cold house and grey skies. Friday morning, I made some coffee and sat in from of the computer and looked at Facebook. The Chicago Half-Marathon page had posted this status:

If you want to start running, you should...

I realize now that the way I read it that morning was most certainly not the way it was intended. But it was like a thunderbolt out of the sky that I took to mean literally: Get off your ass and go run, you mope.

So I finished my coffee and laced up for possibly my fastest eight miles to date; the fading azaleas standing in stark contrast to the gloomy skies. Chilled to the bone back at home, I sipped on some water and, on a whim, texted a friend I hadn't seen in a long time, then got in the shower without waiting for a response. The water set to just under scalding, I scrubbed myself raw in the shower and thawed out. The friend replied and we made plans to do supper.

I groomed myself and the house and was picking up my purse to run some errands when another text came in. This one told of the rapid decline of a pet, and the need to put her down. Having never been through this before, the action was instinctual. I texted I would be there, and I went.

I've never been present for the death of any mammal - canine, feline, or human. I was there out of equal parts innocent curiosity and an overwhelming need to support, to love.

It was fast and peaceful.

Afterwards, we went to my friend's home to bury her. The weather had warmed considerably, the clouds had parted, and the sun had come out. In the woods behind my friend's home, four women and myself set to the task of digging the hole and laying the pet to rest. We threw back a shot of tequila in her honor (she was a sassy ole gal of a dog) and parted ways.

That night, I ate supper with James and my friend and we talked and drank and ate. I looked around my home and I thought about the strangely beautiful world we live in.