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...
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Saturday, April 4, 2015
DEE-EL
The theme of this week has been "reassess" and what better way to finish it off than with a brand new injury, right?!?! Hahah... Oh man! March was shaping up to be so awesome! I was super satisfied with my new goals sheet when I posted it on Tuesday afternoon and *then* I felt SO GREAT about my performance at track practice Tuesday night. But - oyoyoy - one day and one little baby recovery ride later and I found myself suffering from a mild case of 'turf toe' on my right foot. I've been RICE-ing and going easy on it ever since Thursday and there's still no sign of the pain going away any time soon. Meh.
Okay okay - so, I admit that I may have needed a little reality check... Maguy discouraged me from double days last year and I've been aware I'm pushing it with these back-to-back bricks on Tuesdays. So, here I lie, on this couch, in this oh-so-familiar position (with one leg up and tingling in my toes from a tightly wound ace bandage). Ugh!
For the next few weeks, I'll be fine-tuning my weekly workout routine to avoid a double day. The problem will be deciding which Tuesday workout to retain! I've been loving my morning jogs with Vala and the Tuesday evening track workouts with Oakland Triathlon Club (OTC) have been so enjoyable and so intense. Look! After doing a mini brick in the morning *and* riding 12 miles to Berkeley I still ran my fastest recorded 400 meter (1:12) and my fastest 1/2 mile (3:16):
So you can see what I mean... I'd like to keep both workouts in the mix somehow (maybe with one 3 miler day and a 5 miler day?). Once my foot heels, my plan of attack will be to get some new shoes, and maybe custom orthotics, and ask the OTC track coach about how my form can be improved to avoid reinjury. Alright - that's enough wah wah wah for now - more later!
Okay okay - so, I admit that I may have needed a little reality check... Maguy discouraged me from double days last year and I've been aware I'm pushing it with these back-to-back bricks on Tuesdays. So, here I lie, on this couch, in this oh-so-familiar position (with one leg up and tingling in my toes from a tightly wound ace bandage). Ugh!
For the next few weeks, I'll be fine-tuning my weekly workout routine to avoid a double day. The problem will be deciding which Tuesday workout to retain! I've been loving my morning jogs with Vala and the Tuesday evening track workouts with Oakland Triathlon Club (OTC) have been so enjoyable and so intense. Look! After doing a mini brick in the morning *and* riding 12 miles to Berkeley I still ran my fastest recorded 400 meter (1:12) and my fastest 1/2 mile (3:16):
So you can see what I mean... I'd like to keep both workouts in the mix somehow (maybe with one 3 miler day and a 5 miler day?). Once my foot heels, my plan of attack will be to get some new shoes, and maybe custom orthotics, and ask the OTC track coach about how my form can be improved to avoid reinjury. Alright - that's enough wah wah wah for now - more later!
Monday, February 16, 2015
I'm baaaaaa-aaaack
After five excruciatingly long weeks of rest, ice and heat, yesterday I met an old friend who I haven't seen since our high school graduation for a jog along the beach in Alameda. I am pleased to report that my strained achilles tendon (which landed me in bed rest since mid-January) has finally healed. We did a 3 mile out-and-back and *man* it felt grrrrreat to be back! I'm already looking forward to my next buddy run tomorrow morning with a friend from college who I haven't seen (again) since graduation. It's so incredible to be able to get back in touch with these fit friends to gather a little momentum for hoisting this bag of potato chips back on the tri-training horse. As long as I stay healthy for the next month I'll be training for the Oakland Running Festival - a half marathon - which takes place on March 22nd. Woohoo. That's all for now. More later!
Thursday, March 13, 2014
On Overcoming Obstacles
Scars are cool. When you're a volleyball player, bruises, floor burns, and contusions on your knees become kind of like badges of honor. Every scar has a story. Well, the scars on my knees are kind of a long story...
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
Friday, January 31, 2014
January: American Film Appreciation Month
This month I was holed up at home in bed nursing two sprained ankles and a terrible cold that wouldn't quit. On top of that, when I wasn't looking at my watch and calculating exactly how much time it was before Billy got here, I was trying to not go crazy by consciously distracting myself from how much time it was before Billy got here. Oy!
Now, if you don't know me that well, this may come as news to you, but I am, admittedly, somewhat of a nitwit when it comes to common knowledge. For example, I have been the butt of many a joke when conversations turn toward the cultural canon. Vocabulary, books, band names, TV shows, actors, and movies that are considered common knowledge by my peers evidently inhabit a black hole in my brain. References to media from my generation mostly go over my head. And while my anti-climactic-explanation-eliciting blank stares were coquettish in my twenties, in my thirties, it turns out it's just embarrassing.
So, in January, I made a pact with myself. I, Amy Moor, will use this month of forced rest and relaxation wisely and educate myself in the American entertainment industry.
I watched all the Star Wars, all the Die Hards, all the Lethal Weapons, all the Godfathers, and uhhh, every Johnny Depp movie from blockbuster to cult classic. I watched Platoon, Stir Crazy, Blazing Saddles, Annie Hall, When Harry Met Sally, Man on the Moon, Magnolia, Steel Magnolias, Boogie Nights, Saturday Night Fever, Pulp Fiction, From Dusk Til Dawn, Natural Born Killers, An Officer and a Gentlemen... It did not take me long to start forming strong opinions about these films and the Hollywood professionals that inhabit them. The big picture though is: WOW! The American film industry is awesome! The rest of my revelations are blips on the radar compared to this one, but here is a small sample anyway:
1. I don't like Johnny Depp's work as much as I thought.
2. A New Hope is the best Star Wars.
3. Die Hard is way better than Lethal Weapon.
4. Uh... the Godfather - who needs him??
5. Gene Wilder is my favorite actor of all time.
6. I need someone to expose me to the work of Richard Pryor because I still don't get why every contemporary comedian says he's the greatest.
Well, that's about it! Just wanted to let you all know that I found a way to thrive in the midst of ankle-breaking pain, mind-blowing boredom, and soul-squashing sickness. Thanks to my new friends in the tele.
Now, if you don't know me that well, this may come as news to you, but I am, admittedly, somewhat of a nitwit when it comes to common knowledge. For example, I have been the butt of many a joke when conversations turn toward the cultural canon. Vocabulary, books, band names, TV shows, actors, and movies that are considered common knowledge by my peers evidently inhabit a black hole in my brain. References to media from my generation mostly go over my head. And while my anti-climactic-explanation-eliciting blank stares were coquettish in my twenties, in my thirties, it turns out it's just embarrassing.
So, in January, I made a pact with myself. I, Amy Moor, will use this month of forced rest and relaxation wisely and educate myself in the American entertainment industry.
I watched all the Star Wars, all the Die Hards, all the Lethal Weapons, all the Godfathers, and uhhh, every Johnny Depp movie from blockbuster to cult classic. I watched Platoon, Stir Crazy, Blazing Saddles, Annie Hall, When Harry Met Sally, Man on the Moon, Magnolia, Steel Magnolias, Boogie Nights, Saturday Night Fever, Pulp Fiction, From Dusk Til Dawn, Natural Born Killers, An Officer and a Gentlemen... It did not take me long to start forming strong opinions about these films and the Hollywood professionals that inhabit them. The big picture though is: WOW! The American film industry is awesome! The rest of my revelations are blips on the radar compared to this one, but here is a small sample anyway:
1. I don't like Johnny Depp's work as much as I thought.
2. A New Hope is the best Star Wars.
3. Die Hard is way better than Lethal Weapon.
4. Uh... the Godfather - who needs him??
5. Gene Wilder is my favorite actor of all time.
6. I need someone to expose me to the work of Richard Pryor because I still don't get why every contemporary comedian says he's the greatest.
Well, that's about it! Just wanted to let you all know that I found a way to thrive in the midst of ankle-breaking pain, mind-blowing boredom, and soul-squashing sickness. Thanks to my new friends in the tele.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Joints
So, there's no word for knuckle in French. It's just called a finger joint. You can probably imagine the conversation where I found this out, but here it is anyways:
Me: "Hey cool wow! What's your skin doing on your fingers?"
Nono: "It's paint."
Me: "Haha, not that. I'm talking about the weird peeling thing on your - wait - what do you call that?"
Nono: "What?"
Me: "How do you say that in French?" [points at knuckle and does a weird wiggly finger dance]
Nono: "Joint." [makes movements with elbows]
Me: "No, not 'joint'. What do you call the joint on your finger?"
Nono: "Finger joint." [articulates at the knuckle]
Me: [digging in purse for dictionary] "Really?! There's not a more specific word in French for knuckle?!"
Nono: "Nop. It's just 'joint'."
Me: [Frantically flipping the pages in dictionary to find knuckle] ABCDEFGH...M?!? Grr... "Ahhhhhh OKAY! 'Joint'! You're right!" [triumphantly... trying to look cute to native French speakers who seem less satisfied with the outcome of this conversation] So, then how would you say knuckle ba...? Shut up, English speaking brain! There's no baseball in France!!!
Me: "So hey cool! I have the same dry skin thing on my finger joints as you do. What is that?"
Nono: "Dry skin."
WAH WAH!
Vocabulary:
Dry: Sec (m), Seche (f)
Finger = la droigt
Joint = l'articulation
Knuckle = l'articulation
Paint = la peinture
Skin = la peau
Weird = bizarre
Me: "Hey cool wow! What's your skin doing on your fingers?"
Nono: "It's paint."
Me: "Haha, not that. I'm talking about the weird peeling thing on your - wait - what do you call that?"
Nono: "What?"
Me: "How do you say that in French?" [points at knuckle and does a weird wiggly finger dance]
Nono: "Joint." [makes movements with elbows]
Me: "No, not 'joint'. What do you call the joint on your finger?"
Nono: "Finger joint." [articulates at the knuckle]
Me: [digging in purse for dictionary] "Really?! There's not a more specific word in French for knuckle?!"
Nono: "Nop. It's just 'joint'."
Me: [Frantically flipping the pages in dictionary to find knuckle] ABCDEFGH...M?!? Grr... "Ahhhhhh OKAY! 'Joint'! You're right!" [triumphantly... trying to look cute to native French speakers who seem less satisfied with the outcome of this conversation] So, then how would you say knuckle ba...? Shut up, English speaking brain! There's no baseball in France!!!
Me: "So hey cool! I have the same dry skin thing on my finger joints as you do. What is that?"
Nono: "Dry skin."
WAH WAH!
Vocabulary:
Dry: Sec (m), Seche (f)
Finger = la droigt
Joint = l'articulation
Knuckle = l'articulation
Paint = la peinture
Skin = la peau
Weird = bizarre
Thursday, September 5, 2013
French Kissing
I don't know how deeply I've delved into the subject of kissing in France, but this is the stuff that this Culture (yes, culture with a capital C!) is made of... So, here we go!
This morning I was sitting in a coffee shop/bar/newsstand/convenience store around the corner from my new digs looking like a total tourist in my shorts and tennies with socks, writing postcards, and drinking a cappuccino (which looked like a McDonald's ice cream cone and an espresso got in a brawl and the ice cream won) and - I'm not even joking - every single customer said hello upon entry to pretty much everyone but me. The men shook hands with each other and everyone kissed the women (2x minimum - first the right cheek then the left cheek - though I witnessed a four kiss situation which, at this point, is my worst nightmare...). Ha! No matter what is going on, you drop everything and walk straight up to people with a gender specific greeting and this is a HUGE part of the culture here that I have yet to fully embrace (ahem ahem).
So, if you can imagine my practice last night - there I was being introduced to the core of the Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Men's Regional team (seriously 7 French guys just totally blankly staring at me) and no one knew how to say hi. Do we perform the usual ceremony (two kisses - no eye contact - no hesitation, just literally stick your neck out and go right on in for it)? Do I just take the lead and spit on hundreds of years of their cultural tradition by swapping their kisses for a sweaty yankee handshake? Running away screaming was taken into consideration... Eyeyey! I ended up asking if it was possible to institute a strict high five policy... People agreed this was fine. So, our salutation involves a high five plus an exploding fist bump (it's sporty and kinda like knuckles kissing with fireworks at the end).
Greeting aside, it was pretty obvious from the start that at least half of these guys were not excited about having a young, female, American coach... Oh man, that's so many counts against me here it's a little ridiculous, but once we got started they were all cool and there's no doubt about it - this team is athletic with strong fundamentals. My role is clearly just to work them out hard and give them game-like drills that challenge specific areas where they need improvement. I thought practice went pretty well, but we'll see who shows up on Friday! :)
Today I went to see a cool and competent podiatrist who made me custom insoles! Now every time I take a step it feels like a baby is punching me in the arch. Haha! He said wearing the insoles should clear up my foot pain completely in ten days and to come see him again any time. We talked for a long time about feet (doy!) and athleticism (one of my favorite topics!)... His office was super high-tech. He really helped me.
I feel great - which is good because I have practice tonight! Yay! Okay - that's all for now. More later!
This morning I was sitting in a coffee shop/bar/newsstand/convenience store around the corner from my new digs looking like a total tourist in my shorts and tennies with socks, writing postcards, and drinking a cappuccino (which looked like a McDonald's ice cream cone and an espresso got in a brawl and the ice cream won) and - I'm not even joking - every single customer said hello upon entry to pretty much everyone but me. The men shook hands with each other and everyone kissed the women (2x minimum - first the right cheek then the left cheek - though I witnessed a four kiss situation which, at this point, is my worst nightmare...). Ha! No matter what is going on, you drop everything and walk straight up to people with a gender specific greeting and this is a HUGE part of the culture here that I have yet to fully embrace (ahem ahem).
So, if you can imagine my practice last night - there I was being introduced to the core of the Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Men's Regional team (seriously 7 French guys just totally blankly staring at me) and no one knew how to say hi. Do we perform the usual ceremony (two kisses - no eye contact - no hesitation, just literally stick your neck out and go right on in for it)? Do I just take the lead and spit on hundreds of years of their cultural tradition by swapping their kisses for a sweaty yankee handshake? Running away screaming was taken into consideration... Eyeyey! I ended up asking if it was possible to institute a strict high five policy... People agreed this was fine. So, our salutation involves a high five plus an exploding fist bump (it's sporty and kinda like knuckles kissing with fireworks at the end).
Greeting aside, it was pretty obvious from the start that at least half of these guys were not excited about having a young, female, American coach... Oh man, that's so many counts against me here it's a little ridiculous, but once we got started they were all cool and there's no doubt about it - this team is athletic with strong fundamentals. My role is clearly just to work them out hard and give them game-like drills that challenge specific areas where they need improvement. I thought practice went pretty well, but we'll see who shows up on Friday! :)
Today I went to see a cool and competent podiatrist who made me custom insoles! Now every time I take a step it feels like a baby is punching me in the arch. Haha! He said wearing the insoles should clear up my foot pain completely in ten days and to come see him again any time. We talked for a long time about feet (doy!) and athleticism (one of my favorite topics!)... His office was super high-tech. He really helped me.
I feel great - which is good because I have practice tonight! Yay! Okay - that's all for now. More later!
Monday, September 2, 2013
WEEKEND
The treasurer of Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Volley Ball invited me to stay with him and his family in the countryside North of Tours this past weekend. Beautiful family, beautiful home, beautiful food, ahhhhh... It was really nice to unplug and unwind!
On the first night we ate fajitas for dinner with tortillas and guacamole and everything!!!! OH MY GAWD! So nice! So tasty! Mmmmmmmm... We ate so well! Four and five course meals all over the place. Unfortunately, because I was constantly caring for my sore foot, when I wasn't eating everything in sight, I was kindof a big bummer. :(
On the first night we ate fajitas for dinner with tortillas and guacamole and everything!!!! OH MY GAWD! So nice! So tasty! Mmmmmmmm... We ate so well! Four and five course meals all over the place. Unfortunately, because I was constantly caring for my sore foot, when I wasn't eating everything in sight, I was kindof a big bummer. :(
On Sunday, we went on an outing to Château-La-Vallière, but because of my foot I didn't make it too far (ouch!). Our first stop was a little lake where they foraged some blackberries and played volleyball while I laid back and just enjoyed the sunshine and the breeze. Next stop, we went to go visit a friend of the club and his family, who - guess what? - is loaning me his bike until May - Yayayay! We ate rhubarb tart and talked and laughed and I almost understood something he said once... I think... Ahahah!
The rest of the weekend was spent sword fighting from the couch and playing games with the sweetest little boy in the world, the Treasurer's eight year old son. We completed an entire "Ou est Charlie?" book, he whooped me repeatedly at Memory (a matching game), he learned how to shuffle cards, and we watched cartoons ("Shiva" is Legos in French!).
The Treasurer got the ball rolling for my transfer paperwork, insurance, and - drumroll please! - we went to visit an apartment that looks like a keeper. All in all, it was a super fun and productive weekend.
That's all for now. More later!
That's all for now. More later!
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Ohhhhhhhhh My Hoofers!
Just FYI - I'm watching Scoobie Doo in French right now and IT. IS. AWESOME.
After walking everywhere so much this week in my flip flops, last night the right side of my foot started to throb. I should've thrown an ice pack on it right away, but instead I shrugged it off and decided a night of rest will probably do enough good for it to feel better in the morning... WRONG! How many times do I have to learn this lesson?!?!? When it hurts, put an ice pack on it! It makes me want a version of this Portlandia skit for injured athletes:
Ahahaha... PUT. AN. ICE. PACK. ON. IT.
Today, the President accompanied me to see my dream apartment, I finally got my FIVB international transfer number, and started my temporary long-stay visa paperwork for France. All this bureaucratic bull on top of my nagging foot pain kinda put a kink in my outlook on the day. So, while Laurent made lunch, I blasted some of my favorite music: King Crimson's Walking On Air, Erik Satie's Je Te Veux, Simon and Garfunkle's Greatest Hits, and this Bell Chant.
The music sparked a deep conversation about the incredible life of Laurent Cahu. We ate and talked. He's been really great about opening up his home and sharing everything with me... He's also been a very patient French teacher at every opportunity he gets. He takes the time to explain expressions and words to me - for example, well, every bad word in the French language, slang for "cops", the word "mothballs", etc. Ahaha! :)
I can't say my foot or my mood had fully recovered by the time we rolled up to the gym, HOWEVER, by the time I laced up my shoes, every thought from my day just completely faded away into team thoughts. Volleyball practice has a way of quieting the mind that I just love so much... Once that ball is in the air, the team is all that matters... A lot of the credit for this feeling goes to the coach of course. She's doing a really good job setting the tone, working us out, and starting to get us to think as one. Oh man, just typing this gives me such a good feeling! Love my team!! Love this sport!!
The Head Coach gave me a lift back to Laurent's place. It was a real privilege getting a chance to talk to her. She told me her volleyball history (she's my hero) and I told her about how much I love hot yoga. She said that if you buy the TGV tickets for Tours-Paris far enough in advance it can be as cheap as 20 euros!!!! I said, "GET OUT!" I'm stoked... This means that I can go practice bikram in Paris - maybe as often as once a month. This is great news! Can't wait!
Opening the door to the house was like walking into a scene from Ratatouille - ha! - Laurent had cooked up a specialty of his, a very meaty sausage and vegetable stew. So, I made an exception and tasted it. Delicious! This is the first pork I've had since May! I sauteed some zucchini on the side and ate while icing my foot and then almost fell asleep on the couch. So beat!! Bed now.
More later!
After walking everywhere so much this week in my flip flops, last night the right side of my foot started to throb. I should've thrown an ice pack on it right away, but instead I shrugged it off and decided a night of rest will probably do enough good for it to feel better in the morning... WRONG! How many times do I have to learn this lesson?!?!? When it hurts, put an ice pack on it! It makes me want a version of this Portlandia skit for injured athletes:
Ahahaha... PUT. AN. ICE. PACK. ON. IT.
Today, the President accompanied me to see my dream apartment, I finally got my FIVB international transfer number, and started my temporary long-stay visa paperwork for France. All this bureaucratic bull on top of my nagging foot pain kinda put a kink in my outlook on the day. So, while Laurent made lunch, I blasted some of my favorite music: King Crimson's Walking On Air, Erik Satie's Je Te Veux, Simon and Garfunkle's Greatest Hits, and this Bell Chant.
The music sparked a deep conversation about the incredible life of Laurent Cahu. We ate and talked. He's been really great about opening up his home and sharing everything with me... He's also been a very patient French teacher at every opportunity he gets. He takes the time to explain expressions and words to me - for example, well, every bad word in the French language, slang for "cops", the word "mothballs", etc. Ahaha! :)
I can't say my foot or my mood had fully recovered by the time we rolled up to the gym, HOWEVER, by the time I laced up my shoes, every thought from my day just completely faded away into team thoughts. Volleyball practice has a way of quieting the mind that I just love so much... Once that ball is in the air, the team is all that matters... A lot of the credit for this feeling goes to the coach of course. She's doing a really good job setting the tone, working us out, and starting to get us to think as one. Oh man, just typing this gives me such a good feeling! Love my team!! Love this sport!!
The Head Coach gave me a lift back to Laurent's place. It was a real privilege getting a chance to talk to her. She told me her volleyball history (she's my hero) and I told her about how much I love hot yoga. She said that if you buy the TGV tickets for Tours-Paris far enough in advance it can be as cheap as 20 euros!!!! I said, "GET OUT!" I'm stoked... This means that I can go practice bikram in Paris - maybe as often as once a month. This is great news! Can't wait!
Opening the door to the house was like walking into a scene from Ratatouille - ha! - Laurent had cooked up a specialty of his, a very meaty sausage and vegetable stew. So, I made an exception and tasted it. Delicious! This is the first pork I've had since May! I sauteed some zucchini on the side and ate while icing my foot and then almost fell asleep on the couch. So beat!! Bed now.
More later!
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