Hood to Coast

Running is not really my thing.  It's the thing Rob makes me do, which I complain about and manage to quit more often than I quit drinking diet Dew.  But whereas drinking a nice, cold Dew is nice and refreshing after a long separation, running after a long break is AWFUL.  I would know.  I take lots of long breaks.  Rob doesn't.  He plugs along rain or shine, heat or cold, sick or well, shins splints, runners knee, Achilles heal, blisters, hip pain. . . well you get the idea.  And luckily he has been running long enough that he doesn't have these problems frequently anymore.

He started running about two years ago, but didn't get really serious until about a year ago, at which time he went at it like his life depended on it.  Which I guess he figured it did.  Within a couple months he had lost 50 lbs! He started looking like a kid in dressups, or a cancer patient--people actually asked if he was sick because his suits drowned him.  I may have mentioned all this before.

At any rate, a few months back a couple people that work with Rob contacted him about joining their Hood to Coast team.  It's a race where a group of 12 people run a relay from Mount Hood to Seaside, Oregon.  200 miles.  Three legs each.  Rob informed them he would think about it and get back to them.  A few days later he got an email welcoming him to the team and giving him his leg assignment. . . THE hardest leg of the run.

If I've learned one thing about Rob, it's not to tell him he can't do something.  Unless, of course, I want him to do that very thing.  He likes to prove people wrong.  Usually it's an attractive trait.  After I heard the description of his leg of the race (as posted on the OHSU Sports Medicine blog) I worried he might kill himself:

Leg 5: Thirteen miles of rolling hills are a mere warm-up to what awaits you at the end: the gnarliest hill you’ll see outside of a Swiss Miss ad. It just keeps effing GOING, and there’s nothing you and your little split shorts can do about it to make the pain stop. Do your team a favor: throw some absolute bad-ass on this set of legs, then do the honorable thing and look the other way when he’s crying at the 3-mile mark.

Fun, right!?

He was determined to do, and do it well, because even though the others gave him a hard leg, they were all pretty serious runners.  So despite not really being ready for a race that would last 36 hours and afford little to no sleep (the two hours he did get were in a sleeping bag in a farmer's field), he did remarkably well.  I am just thankful he didn't die on the way.  He was too.  He was also glad he wasn't one of the many runners he saw run until they puked and then run some more.

Did I mention they pay to be a part of all this torture?

The funniest part is that he thinks he might get me to do it with him next year!!

I may not have run the race, but my parents joined me and we drove to the coast to meet Rob at the finish line. . . and stay in a beach house and play for a few days.  THAT part of Hood to Coast I can handle, and would willing do again next year!

My How Time Flies. . .

Clearly summer has been one crazy, fast-paced whirlwind, judging by my absence here.  I could recount the minute details of our summer, but I will hit only the high points--the ones with great pictures.  Starting with our trip to Utah.

Four years ago, on August 20th, Rob and I flew to Washington from Utah to house hunt.  Three days and 60 houses later. . . we found one!

Leaving Utah was hard.  I wanted to leave, was so ready to leave, but once the actual leaving took place, I was a MESS.  Leaving my friends was really harder than I imagined it would be.  Or maybe I just hadn't taken time to imagine that aspect--I was too busy imaging the new place!  So it is strange that despite one trip back a couple months after we moved, I had let three and a half years pass before making another trip. Time flies, I tell ya.  In the past years I feel like as a family we have grown and changed in loads of fun and fabulous ways, as I am sure all our friends back in Utah have, but it was so fun to go back and have it all seem the same as when we left.  Nearly all our neighbors still live there and it was like one big reunion party.  We hung out in the street like old times while the pack of kids roamed and the adults chatted.

We had a picnic lunch in the park behind the neighborhood, the kids picking up practically where they had left off four years ago!

We had dinner with various neighbors (the lovely Aki & Family and Nicole & Family) kind enough to feed us and entertain us.  And we took the kids to Farmington Pond to swim.

Funny thing--I lived in Farmington for 8 years and never took my kids to swim in Farmington Pond.  I think I visited it once.  I was schooled in what we had been missing.  Though Nicole took a more hands on approach, I just sat back and snapped loads of pictures.  It was such fun, we think we might make it an annual event--the whole trip, not just the swimming! But I am sure the swimming will be on the list of things to do while there, if the fun they had is any indication.  I leave with you the evidence of said fun. . .

Now THAT is what summer is all about!

(I even got one picture of me, snuck in by Nicole while my camera was not strapped to my neck--but alas, it is only my backside!)

The Simple Pleasures of Grammy's House

What is it about going home that makes you revert to the ways of childhood?  You could live in a mansion or a old farmhouse, but when you go back all you see is home, and whatever childhood memories you associate with it.  My memories are good ones, so I tend to want my children to experience some of those for themselves, even though our own home is a very different place.

Rob and I grew up very differently.  I grew up on a farm with all the dirt, animals and county pleasure associated with that, along with seven siblings and random various cousins. He grew up in the suburbs--the only animals being his basset hound and a house cat, and his playground an actual playground, not the fields and streams beyond the back door.  He has one brother and one sister.

What does this all mean?

When we go to Idaho, this divergence of lifestyle is echoed in the two different experiences the girls will have at Manna's house (Rob's parents) and Grammy's house (my parents).  I have written about the fun things the girls expect to do while visiting Manna. Grammy's house is a little more free form, and a lot more country fun.

Here is what I see:

Cousins running in and out of houses, both Grammy's house and Aunt Liz's house next door.  Kittens and dogs running wild.  The spacious outdoors are calling and very little time is spent caged in by four walls.  Trees are meant for climbing, ditches are meant for splashing in, kittens are meant for cuddling (all 15 of them), flowers and weeds are meant for picking and grass in meant for rolling on, running over, and wriggling bare toes in.  Shoes are an unwanted accessory, dirt is a more likely accessory, and giggling girls whispering secrets is expected.  Sunscreen is rarely given a passing thought, but seeing how close you can get to the sun on the trampoline is a worthy goal.

Treasures are eagerly sought after. . .behind the shop, near the garden, among the cat tails swishing in the canal, and certainly in the old barn with its mysterious store of old farm implements.  

There are many wonders to behold--among the flowering beds of peonies, lilacs and irises and also in the patches of wild flowers blooming along the lane. . .or in the rainbow painted reflections on over sized bubbles, flung wide across the lawn by half a dozen windmilling girls wielding bubble wands. . .getting ever dizzier until they collapse in a heap on the lawn to peer up at the sky and find shapes in the passing clouds.  

Yes, Grammy's house is full of wonders and pleasures, sticky fingers and muddy toes, home baked cookies and the goodness of family--lots of family.  Chaotic bliss.

Of course, that isn't quite how Rob sees it.  He sees. . .

Kids running everywhere makes it difficult to keep track of your own two blondies, so one must be ever alert.  Shoes, where are their shoes?  Shoes are necessary to prevent cuts and germs from rusty metal, rocks and thistles and whatever else may be lurking in the weeds or along the lane.  Don't hold those kittens! Do you know how many germs are on those things--go wash your hands.  Get out of the tree--do you want to break your neck?  Do you know what kind of bacteria could be in that ditch?  Don't go in the front yard, you might get hit by a car.  No, I will not put Charly down, he can't handle the chaos and noisy children, the barking dogs and big trucks.  Where are your shoes? Go wash your hands. Is it time to go yet?

Okay, so maybe I am exaggerating a little.  But either way, I like my view better.

It's all a matter of perspective.  

Astoria

I know many people who dread the day their mother-on-law comes to visit.  I am not one of those people.  When my mother-in-law comes for a visit I get as giddy as the girls do.  Fun will be had and very little rest will occur--except perhaps in the car between fun.  

This weekend is no exception.  For the day today we decided to get Hannah out of school early and head for the coast.  Our destination: Astoria.  We headed straight for the Cannery Cafe and the famous Gunder Buns.  

We spent most of the meal trying to decide just what the secret ingredient was that makes them so irresistible. The waitress claimed only the owner knows the secret. . .but we detected a hint of honey. . .and something else.  Of course the rest of lunch was great also.  I had crab cakes (again--we went out last night and had seafood then too) and tomato & red pepper bisque--YUM.  Everyone else had  clam chowder--also good.

Since the Cafe is on the pier we had to climb the tower and hunt for seals and seagulls.

(Sig watched for seals out the cafe window while we were eating lunch.)

The view from the cafe window

The quaintness of Astoria gets me every time.  The old buildings are so interesting. . .

. . .and the houses are so cute I want to move right in!

And, of course, you can't visit Astoria without visiting the Column.  

The view is spectacular (although I took these from the parking lot because the tower was closed for maintenance.)

  

My daughter is in 4th grade and my mother-in-law is a 4th grade teacher, which is when they learn/teach all about Lewis & Clark--so of course we had to stop by Fort Clatsop and take a tour.

It was an exhausting day.  But the weather was warm, and the sun was shinning--you can't ask for more on the Northwest Coast!