Zones and Comfort Zones

I had a lot of help rearing my daughter. I needed it. I cannot be everything to anyone. During my pregnancy, I developed Amber's education plan. I had no doubt hers would be an intellect worth developing. Her third parent, Irma (our early life family day care provider), taught her about mud pies. A good thing, because that's out of my comfort zone. Her father bought a large rug with red and black squares and some checkers the size of saucers. At 3, she could play a pretty credible game of checkers, the two of them lying on their bellies on the floor and the checkers an appropriate size for toddler hands. A good thing, because that's out of my comfort zone, too. I was in charge of education, elaborate Halloween costumes I made from the ground up (sometime I'll blog about Pocahontas - I made the moccasins and beaded the dress I made from suede), and themed birthday parties. Those were in my comfort zone. All of us loved her in the best ways we knew how to love. And all of us occasionally had to step out of our comfort zones to do the best we could for a child who deserved to be well supported.

On the day she turned 3 1/2, I delivered my child to the door of a carefully selected Montessori Academy. It was the earliest age she was allowed to start - 3 1/2. I did this with trepidation. It happened that I was seeing a counselor at the time, for every reason. I agonized that Amber would collapse under the burden of "why did my mother bring me to school and desert me?" Paul was good enough to not snicker at me. He said, "No, we think they struggle more with where to hang up their sweaters, where the bathroom is, and which activity they want to try out next at school." Oh! OK. Enough ego, stability and security at age 3 1/2 to know that Mom would return for her that evening, and now, let's get on with all this new stuff.

I had been searching for some new things in life that were just mine. I needed a creative outlet, so I started the blog. I was afraid that my Seinfeldian approach (a blog about noting in particular) would render me a wallflower ~ no one would want to dance with me. But I've learned that the blog (and I) are actually about nothing and everything, and that people pop in and relate about things they have in common or things they want to learn about. I am enjoying it tremendously. Now I've landed on the marathon and I'm dreaming of something else that will be just mine. I am taking better care of my"self" than I had been previously.

I am feeling a bit Amber-like now and I'm not 3 1/2. Aside from all of the 1 million questions about myself and my physical ability to walk a marathon, my resolve, my discipline, I was distressed about the logistics of it. How could I carry enough water? What if I wanted to strip off some layers or add some? What about going to the bathroom? What if I need to eat something? What if I decide I need medical attention? What is the exact route? Nothing about this endeavor is in my comfort zone.

But I'm making progress! I've learned from the Badger's races that you start gathering information by going to the event flyers and website. Now I know where the port-a-potties are located! I know where the neutral water stations are, and they occur frequently enough that I don't have to stress it. At the Start Village at the Mandalay Bay, I can leave my backpack. UPS, one of the big sponsors of the event, will deliver the packs to whichever water station I choose. As long as I have my ID, I can get into the backpack and designate the next place I want it to be waiting for me, including the Finish Line. OK, the light has come on: I'm not in this alone or without support. And I haven't even met my TeamPrevention buds, yet. Maybe some of us can partner up to ease the way for one another!

One shocking visual was the course route - the full marathon. Las Vegas streets are laid out like a checkerboard, with major boulevards being 1 mile apart. When I looked at the route, I could picture the landmarks at the major intersections. It's paralyzing. Coincidentally, at different times during the marathon, I will be walking near my home and walking near the salon where I have my hair cut. So what? That's not news. Except that I am known to say every 4-5 weeks, "I hate driving all the way over to the Hair Attic - it's practically all the way across the valley and back. But I do it for the best razor cut on the planet." Well, folks, I'll be covering that distance and more. On foot.

In my ears right now and I wish it were not: David giving hell to a young home dude who does his job very well, but just can't get a handle on "get up, go to work, get up, do it again".

Something that charmed me today: An item that might bring all of you cyclists and all of us walkers together in peace, harmony, fraternity and community.

Harbingers and Omens (or silly little coincidences)

Pretty funny, as I sign on with TeamPrevention and make a commitment to do something challenging and new (and, therefore, a little scary), all manner of little "signs" are showing themselves to me.

There's a newscast I like each morning when I come in at dawn between walking and work. There's a 50-year-old woman meteorologist who is a hoot, and the (younger) anchors are pretty fun. When one of the roving reporters recently booked a carpet cleaning job (she has an unusual first name and I recognized her voice) I asked, "Do you come into my home each morning over coffee?" She laughed and said "Yes, I am she." There are lots of spots on this newscast about events going on in Las Vegas and it gives me the tiniest sense of community, which is otherwise lacking here - at least for me.

This morning I nearly toppled the coffee cup when I heard - between shower and blow drying, and just after buying the pink slippers - about the Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon to be held on December 6th. Hey, that's my event! The promoter was talking, and I learned I'll be joining some 29,999 other souls that day. The focus was on the runners, and probably should be - a marathon runner is a marvelous athlete. But as the Badger pointed out in his comments to a previous post, the walkers would be taking on a nearly 7 hour non-stop walk, and that is probably deserving of a nod.

Later in the morning, Yahoo Messenger announced an e-mail sent by the Badger's mother. Subject line: "You'll Love This!" It was a cute little forward with all kinds of tongue-in-cheek comments about walking, which I'll attempt to duplicate at some point on the blog. I hadn't yet told her about my decision to do the walk, so I popped back an e-mail to say "Mother Badger, please go read my last couple of posts to learn some news." Remember, she provides the subscription to Prevention! She's also been heard to comment that the Badger and I spend inordinate amounts of time working on fitness, but we'll see her reaction. I think she'll be supportive because she likes girls who kick butt. She is one!

Last little funny thing. Our IT engineer went to an electronics expo and, being an octopus, he came back with bags and bags and bags of give-aways. Water bottles, pens, little oddities. He was down to one item nobody wanted. "Limes, do you want a book?" "Hmmmmm, I don't know, what kind of book?" Well, it's not a book, it's a bound journal with a pen attached, elastic closure. Embossed on the cover (you'll know who the vendor was): "Sprint", which is close enough to "walk". It will be my training journal!

I've been noodling around on the Rock 'n' Roll Las Vegas Marathon website. There's a new course this year. They're calling it "flat and fast". This being Las Vegas, there are some interesting little things going on like "run through weddings". Huge party, food, music and beer (what?) at the finish line at the Mandalay Bay. Course time limit? 7 hours. For the walkers!

Tunes in my head right now (I don't really own these, so they're not actually playing and being picked up in my ears): Walk Away, Renee; Walk Like a Man (uh-uh, no way); These (pink) Boots Were Made for Walkin'; Walk on By; Walkin' on Sunshine; Walk Like an Egyptian; I'm Walkin'; I Walk the Line; Walk this Way

Something that charmed me today: A sneaker in development that would allow walking while posting to one's blog ~ ~ if that's what one wanted to do

Full Hands, Full Head

This morning's walk had a very different feel to it. Not so recreational. More serious in tone. After all, I've signed up for a deadly serious walk. And I have 6 months to get ready for it. That sounds like a long time, but I can't let all those calendar pages make a reason for me to go slowly.

I already carry keys, tissues, iPod, BlackBerry, and water. Now some other tools are going along. The Badger bought himself a new Garmin and offered me the Forerunner I've dubbed Old Unfaithful across a few years. It's pretty notorious. Consistently inconsistent. We took out his weight and put in mine. We changed it from cycling to running. I need to familiarize myself with it a bit, but I already understand that its reports will point me in directions I need to go: longer, faster, farther, harder. I've set up the spreadsheets to keep track of my stats. I understand I have to work both my body and my head.


Also courtesy of the Badger came a heart monitor and I understand I'll need to learn about myself in all the Zones - 1,2,3,4 and more . . . I recently read Wheel Dancer's post about "to monitor or not to monitor" - I guess I'm going to monitor. I need to learn more about myself in this way, as I've never explored it before. As the Forerunner already challenges me, I'll start the heart monitor in a few days. It's my hunch that I am somewhat familiar with the zones, but I have called them "just huffing and puffing", "slightly gasping for breath", "I can't believe I can do this" and "dial 9-1-1".

I am wrestling with myself about whether to do the half marathon or the whole enchilada. I believe I know what I'll do. You see, it would be an easy gig for me to do the half. I wouldn't have to work very hard. It's not all that much more than distances I've already been able to do at a pretty good pace, without being in training. But the marathon would be a true accomplishment. A true test of myself. Remarkable for many reasons. Something I never dreamed I could do.

I'm no math whiz, but if it can be managed on the fingers and toes, I can usually land on the sum. I know how long my walks take me now. I know how long it takes to cover how many miles. I began to think in terms of 13 or 26 miles and I realize that I will be on my feet for a long, long time. Everything being equal, and training hard, I'll be faster than I am now. But 26 miles walking still takes awhile.

It flitted through my head that I have people who would come out to support me if I were swimming or playing volleyball. But I don't know how you'd ask someone to come to a marathon and wait. Too long, too far, no way to tell where one will be at any given time. Maybe ask someone to wait at the finish line some 4+ hours into the race. Then it flitted through my head that I will have to provide my own encouragement and kudoes. That will be very new for me.

Very unsettled by the time I got home, I found I'd shaved about 10 minutes off of my usual amount of time in the streets. So I went online and I bought the pink shoes. In all of my life I've only had one pair of shoes that cost more than those pink beauties, but the shoes are ordered. I'll start to wear them in late November.

In my ears right now: Pachelbel - Pachelbel's Greatest Hit. One CD, the same tune rendered by about 20 different artists.

Something that charmed me today: The smoke coming off the Visa card after I paid for the shoes.

Friends in Need and Prevention

The Badger was , indeed, a friend in need. Despite two races in two days, the horrors of the oilfields and a very long drive home, he appeared at my door with a computer under his arm! We made a deal: I'd fix dinner, he'd get me up and running again. He did. I did. My hands were trembling as I reached for the keyboard. After leaving work Saturday, I'd gone without for about 24 hours! I blogged around on the BlackBerry, but I could only look, not post comments or write my own post. It was difficult!

However, lack of a computer forced me to have a different kind of day yesterday. I read more than I typically read. I finally put the multi-disc changer on the Bose. It has remained in the shipping box for a year. I washed off the patio furniture. I cleaned windows. I put all the DVDs and videos into the piece of furniture meant to contain them. Do you think I spend too much time in front of the monitor? I pride myself on never having been a TV addict, but . . . . .

The Badger's mother gives me subscriptions to Prevention magazine and I am also addicted to that. I'm not sure why every bit of it grabs me every time, but it does. On the day that Prevention arrives, I sit down and read it cover to cover. There's always something interesting about pet health care, and the best workouts on the planet. There is always an article that makes one think about choices in life - the way we make our way. Makeup artist Bobbi Brown always has good tips for where not to apply the mascara and what colors not to use if you're over 22 years old. The cooking section always draws my attention and I've learned some of my favorite tricks there (you should taste the brown sugar/mustard rub I make for salmon ~ the brown sugar caramelizes on the fish . . but that's another post). There are sections about vitamin supplements, what new products do and do not live up to their claims. And the last page presents the Reflections of an older, habitually happy and grateful woman (Chief Inspiration Officer of the publishing company) that contain a good deal of corn and I like them anyway.

Often there appears a page that intrigues me. It is about a Prevention event, but it's never anywhere near Las Vegas. It goes like this:

Join Team Prevention Walk It!

Get fit, meet other readers, and achieve a substantial fitness goal. Signing up ensures you an automatic spot at the event of your choice, step-by-step trianing and tips from Prevention's editors and experts, online training tools, a TeamPrevention race shirt, and much more!

We'll be there to help you every step of the way!

Well, that sounds a lot like something I'd like to do. Meet other walkers and Prevention readers (who, like me, would really just be other people interested in a variety of things), visit their 2 day expo and walk either a marathon or half marathon. There are frequently articles about Susie from Maryland or Tillie from Delaware who joined up, were not even fit at the beginning, were not walkers at all, and who were older (sometimes they're even as old as I am) . . . . who followed the progam and walked a half marathon. So . . . . I've got a leg up on Susie and Tillie ~ I've walked for miles every day for years. I burn through good shoes every 4-5 weeks.

I signed up this morning. I'm in! December 4th or 5th I'll visit the expo. Sunday, December 6th, I'm doin' the Rock 'n' Roll Las Vegas Marathon and Half Marathon.

In my ears right now: Dwight Yoakam's Best, with a tip of the hat to Bakersfield

Something that charmed me today: Hitting the "Submit" button when I joined TeamPrevention

Carpet Cleaner Humor

The technicians are required to keep in close contact with Mission Control. They have many freedoms out in the world and the balance is that we watch them move through the valley on GPS at all times. They must call in from every job at its beginning, tell us the value of the job and then report payment at the end. No exceptions.

When the company was young, we simply communicated by telephone. Everyone had a cell phone to call in on. But some of the home dudes didn't pay their bill, or had a plan that gave them too few minutes, or forgot their phone 3 days a week . . . OK, the company purchased walkie-talkies and required everyone to carry them. Every one of the men caught onto the walkie-talkie thing immediately. I was dumber than a box of rocks. They'd played army in their youth, I hadn't. I didn't like this device. For whatever reason, we used "handles" in the day and the technicians all took rodent-themed monikers. I named myself Dumb Bunny. I like to think none of them would have come up with that.

Then came the BlackBerries and it was miraculous ~ I was a whiz and they were a bit slower. David said, "Well, yeah, it's basically a computer and you're good at that." So the guys helped me with ringtones and I taught them what an Excel spreadsheet was. They showed me the navigation system and I showed them how to e-mail the digital video clips they take with their BlackBerries. It's reciprocal. It's nice. If you teach me this, I'll teach you that.

Rolling around in Las Vegas every day must be surreal. It is an odd place. It is peopled by the best and the worst sorts. We deal with them all. My technicians see things in homes that are enviable, disgusting, lovely, laughable. Once I had a home dude come off of his route, describe something he'd seen and ask me if I thought he should call Child Protective Services. They are offered everything from cold drinks to food, from handshakes to threats to throw them bodily off the property. They are flirted with and propositioned, insulted or asked if they can help a customer out because of hard times. Many radio transmissions include a comment or conversation about the amazing thing they've just seen or the odd situation that just occurred.

They are offered household items frequently. "Hey, Limes, would anybody want a black leather recliner?" "Have you heard of anyone who might want a kitten?" When we clean carpets for move-out, we often arrive at a point where the customer is willing to simply walk away and leave things behind. And traversing the city as they do, these guys see every yard sale there is.

Cesar and Matt finished a job and walked across the street to a yard sale. There Matt, 22, saw an item that so fascinated him, the seller said, "Take it for free, young man, and enjoy it." Returning to the van, Cesar employed his BlackBerry to send me a photo by e-mail, but didn't say a word to me. What I received at my desk:

As everyone else received the photo by e-mail, the radios began to buzz and we all became raucous. Soon I was informed that Matt had named him Pedro and Pedro was on the way in to the office. By the end of the day, I could see technicians shooting up the stairs - their workdays were over and they wanted to meet Pedro. We laughed until we nearly squirted milk out of our noses. A suggestion was made that we mount Pedro out on the barn that Troy built.

Here's Cesar posing Pedro on the barn:

We all cackled for days and visitors to our office were a bit startled at the sight of Pedro resting in a chair near my desk. We began to talk about how we knew we couldn't really put him out on the barn because the elements would quickly destroy him. So finally, Pedro was put inside the barn to lead a dark existence. He continues to startle everyone who goes to the barn for supplies or equipment - he's a pretty big boy and looks menacing in the dark.

My own private source of merriment: Matt is a young man with a brilliant mind. He's a good worker and a great salesman. He's an astounding artist. He is spiritual and both David and I have had many long, deeply philosophical discussions with him. But sometimes something will pop up - things he doesn't know about - that make one just go "What??" I attribute it to his extreme youth. So . . . Matt thought Pedro was a barnyard piggie and had to check in with me to see if the other guys were giving him the business about an animal called a boar. "No, Matt, it's true. Pedro is a boar. Barnyard piggies are pink and smell like baby powder. "

In my ears right now: the sweet warbling of my two birds and the Badger's pair of birds. Sometimes they just squawk. Right now they're lovely.

Something that charmed me today: the Badger's great placement in the race this morning; the strength and confidence he showed going into this race and coming out of it.