Swimming Milestone #3

In preparation for the Oakland Triathlon Festival (coming up August 29th!), last Friday I swam a half mile in open water at the Dolphin Club in San Francisco.  A half a mile!  Yay.  Sure, I stopped to cough up water *and* caught myself swimming in the total opposite direction of where I wanted to go a couple of times, but all in all, it was a success!

This workout starts with a 4 mile bike ride from the Embarcadero BART station along the wharf.  The touristy hustle and bustle down there is always entertaining and merits a mention on this blog because it's a segment that I always look forward to riding for various reasons.  From Pier 29 to Ghirardelli Square, the sidewalks are flooded with droves of tourists from all over the world walking around taking pictures and noticing everything (which turns this run-of-the-mill ride into a kind of parade of urban American traffic).  Instead of cutting off tour buses, I all of the sudden feel like waving to them (Miss Oakland style of course: elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, middle finger... ooops! jk).  One time I was overwhelmed with the urge to just start chanting USA USA USA!  Haha....  Anyway, I don't know why I'm so weird, but I enjoy the idea of sending tourists home with crazy cyclist stories.  :)

Back to the swim though - the first time I went to the Dolphin Club was before my second tri and I barely made it to the first buoy and back.  The second time, two Fridays ago, I went with a friend who encouraged me the whole time.  She was like, yay, first buoy!  Yay.  Second buoy...  ONE MORE BUOY!  ...and so on and so forth.  She helped me prove to myself that the distance was possible.  So, this last Friday I finally did the whole 1/2 mile by myself.  Definitely a milestone!  So that felt great.  Woohoo!

I love the Dolphin Club so much now!  The water is 68 degrees and has an absolutely gorgeous view of the Golden Gate bridge.  Also, in addition to the beautiful swim and the wild ride that gets me there, the sauna there is incredible (that is a story for another blog post though - hehe!).  I'm hoping a few more open water swims is enough to get me ready for race day.  The Oakland Tri Fest Sprint has a swim of .6 miles which will be the most swimming I've ever done in a race!  Eyeyey.  Oh my gosh...  I have butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it!

Alright - that's all for now.  More later!

See Amy Run

I ran my first half marathon!!  With a time of 2:02:25 at a 9:20 minute mile average pace, I placed 38th in my age group and 143rd overall.  Here are my results!

I went to the registration/packet pick up Saturday in Jack London Square after my bike race in Pleasanton.  The See Jane Run staff made an exception to their non-transferable rule to give me Catherine's bib (an OTC friend who had to leave town unexpectedly).  #1819  Woohoo.  This is going to hurt tomorrow...

Catch Up If You Can

On Tuesday morning I met a good friend from college to jog along Shoreline Drive in Alameda.  It's a beautiful and bustling trail along the southwestern coast of the island that has breathtaking views of the San Francisco bay. We jog/walked and went about 3 miles in thirty minutes.  It was a great catch-up session where I heard all about her new pet sea turtle, her path to buying a home in the Bay Area, and tales of grandbabies and middle management and losing 50 lbs in a year.  Incredible!  When we said goodbye we agreed to a weekly meeting when the weather is nice.  This turned out to be a mini-brick (which means a bike and run workout back-to-back) which is fantastic - and it was oh so fun to see an old friend's face!

This week I'm looking forward to tagging along with Dan for a Thursday morning workout with the Vitruvian club at Lake Merritt *and* Billy and I are also talking about going on a long ride this weekend (somewhere between 40 and 60 miles) so I can barely contain my excitement for that.

It feels so good to be training again.  I can feel my body coming back one day at a time.

Upholding a Moor Family Tradition

I woke up early this morning to skype with Billy and grab a decent breakfast downstairs: coffee, muesli, yogurt, and baguette with butter and honey.  Not bad! 

First order of business was to get some stronger coffee.  Then, buy some postcards.  Then, it was off to yoga.  Today, our instructor started the class in English and then asked me after the first posture of the standing series if she could teach in French for the sake of the French-speaking debutantes.  I, of course, nodded my head yes and we went along without another bump in the road.  I saw some minute progress in the back bends, but my triangle pose was really weak on the left side.  Again, a kink that will work itself out along the course of my ten days here.  After a nice shower, I started home, stopping into Sephora to shamelessly use all their testers (Sneaky or resourceful?  You choose!).  Maybe my lipstick was a little too pink because my remaining walk home resulted in blatant stares from strangers and a random guy (he must've been 20!) inviting me to a par-TEE.  I responded with awkward silence.

A restaurant in the neighborhood called Au Chien Qui Fume (At The Smoking Dog) caught my eye with a front window display of fresh seafood.  I thought, "What the heck!  It's Christmas Eve after all."  I sat down and enthusiastically ordered fresh oysters (a French tradition) and French Onion Soup (a Moor family tradition).  Though a little pricey and *a lot* lonely, this dinner treat felt right.  The service staff was nice and fast (a very unusual combination here by the way), and then the bill came.  Once I put my debit card down the staff ignored my table for a solid 45 minutes.  Were they giving me the cold shoulder? ...time to digest?  When I finally got someone’s attention, I ordered a petit café (espresso) to enjoy out on the heat-lamp-warmed terrace.  The people-watching on this night was spectacular.  A winter drizzle brought out fur collars, high-heeled boots, a million different color pea coats and the most elegant selection of umbrellas I’ve ever seen.  People were scurrying around with arm-fulls of last-minute Christmas shopping.

After writing and stamping a few postcards I walked to the Louvre courtyard where several glass pyramid structures lit up the dark stormy night.  The rain-soaked night air was refreshing, but my instincts (and my right hip) were telling me to turn in early.  So, I headed back to the hostel where a single bed warmly welcomed my yoga weary body with cotton sheets and a thin plaid flannel blanket.

J’aime Paris

My coach Maguy dropped me off at Orly airport today and, after climbing the smelly metro stairs and weaving through the streets of Paris, wet with recent rainfall, I found my hostel tucked in a touristy corner of town.  What this hostel lacked in ambiance and free wifi, it made up for in cleanliness, safety, and location, location, location.  (It's a stone’s throw away from the Pompidou, the Louvre, Notre Dame, and – this is the best part – a short walk to the local Bikram yoga studio!). 

It didn’t take me long to get settled in and then I was out the door to sniff out my second home for the week: the yoga studio!  Besides the obvious signs, like museums and Starbucks, one way I could tell I was in a touristy area is by counting the bagel and burger joints.  I found the studio without too much trouble and signed up immediately for a 10-day introductory class pass that included a mat and a shower (only 35 euros - what a deal - right?!). 

Ahhhh!  After all the delicious French food I've been eating, I'll admit my yoga costume didn't fit exactly like it used to...  Ha!  Nevertheless, it felt so great to push my hips and lock my knee for an hour and a half in the 40 degree heat and humidity.  The most difficult asanas were the back bends, which require the absence of fear, but I have faith that I will overcome that later this week.  After class, I grabbed a most delicious toasted whole wheat bagel with cream cheese (five months deep into France I figured a bagel was going to do me some good) and then stood in a long line at a Mediterranean deli next door to get fresh dolmas and hummus. 

It’s so great to be back in Paris.  I love everything about this city...  the sights, the sounds, and even the stinky smells.  

That's all for now.  More later!

Poetry is Bravery

Last week I picked up a mini magazine called PROG! at my local newsstand/coffee shop/bar.  The postcard-sized booklet advertises 24 pages worth of cool cultural happenings in and around Tours.  Lo and behold!  The first Monday of every month, a café in Tours Centre hosts a free *keyword* poetry reading.  So, before my usual Monday night sauna and swimming sesh, I built up some courage and jumped on the tram to find some poets, poems, and poetry.  Oh la la! 

Opening the thick door to the café, I realized that the average age was 62 (this number was significantly lowered by one young suicidal-looking gentleman).  Central themes were nature, family, love and tenderness.  Under normal circumstances, this poetry might induce vomiting.  However, since I was too distracted by the meanings of the words (pronounced loudly and clearly), the poetry reading became more like an extraordinary listening exercise.  We went around the room and everyone read something…  Luckily, before I left the house, I jotted down a few of my favorite poems from Birds of Arizona, by William Moor (just in case - anticipating that I might need some material myself).  Here is what I read:

Greater White-fronted Goose

And

june

Mallard

I

Cinnamon Teal

Mandela and when you are going

Ruddy Duck

A house plan

Wild Turkey

If

all

of the

huge

cost

all of

us

all

just

Montezuma Quail

Are

they are and are in

R a

R

R and

who are in the

R

R

R

R

Neotropic Cormorant

The

Cedar Warwing

That

, that

man

that the

Yelllow Warbler

Click the

...  Cool right?!  Haha!  I stayed for a while afterwards to talk to the president of their association (who happens to live right down the street from me in Saint Cyr) and another very nice woman who pretty much told me her life story.  Their poetry was not at all what I’m used to.  Poetry where I come from challenges great big ideas with interesting sounding words that cut into your thoughts and graft them with your feelings.  Truly, this experience left me with a deep sense of gratitude for Billy and his poetry and the poetry community in the Bay Area.

I've realized that, no matter what topic you choose to write about or what country you inhabit, writing poetry is an incredibly brave act.  So I wrote a poem.   I’m sure the poem I'm about to share with you has been written before – either by a sad solitary peace corps worker, or a lonely soldier in some dugout somewhere craving the greatest creation to ever come from the United States besides the internet…  I'm warning you - it's so bad that it's even more bad, but here it is anyway:

Peanut Butter Poem

On a sunny afternoon

I will lick you from a spoon

Chunky, smooth, sweet

You’re all I ever want to eat

You make me more me

Pee

Bee

This week I've been working on a few poems inspired by different circumstances I've encountered while living here in Saint Cyr.  I'm also working overtime on my French...  Billy sent me a link to this site, which is a fun way to learn a new language:  www.duolingo.com  Check it out!

That's all for now.  More later!