On Target at Target

I’ve never been one who has enjoyed dressing up. Skirts, frilly things, and doing my hair – not high on my list. Give me a pair of running shoes, tank top, and visor, and I’m good to go. I’ve even been known to wear compression socks in public. (And not just in Hawaii).

It struck me yesterday night that I should probably have some clue about what I’m going to do for Thursday’s Marine Corps Ball. And while I can be ready for a run in less than 60 seconds (I know because I’ve tried) – getting ready for a ball is an entirely different proposition. Especially the Marine Corps Ball, with its storied history, tradition, Dress Blues, guests of honor, and other fancy-looking-people.

I think it’s safe to say, that when it comes to balls and elegant parties, I’m a bit out of my element.

So I figured the BEST approach would be to make a list.

After 4+ years of triathlon, traveling frequently to races, and two Ironmans this past season, I’m highly adept at list making. Race success was contingent on my ability to organize, pack, arrange, classify, and sort. As long as I stuck to my tried and true methods, the ball thing would be easy, right?

Insert: evil laugh.

In the dress department, I know I’m covered (figuratively, not literally. Well, literally too! But both are important). I’ve actually got three gowns on hand. One that I wore to high school prom, another that my friend gave to after wearing to her own high school prom, and my gold gown. So really, all things being equal, I’ve got two gowns that are high school appropriate and one GREAT gold gown.

Now that I’m nearly thirty (okay – 28, let’s not push it), I’ve come to accept that age appropriate clothes are essential to my comfort level in social situations.

Suffice to say, I’m going with the Gold.

Additionally, I’m good on the jewelry department. Just a pair of earrings – the loopy kinds that pull on your earlobes; (you know the kinds - if you wear them for too long, your ears will become permanently elongated.) And perhaps an extra ring or bracelet….but I’m not really a jewelry gal (stemming from a snow-tubing accident when my bellybutton ring was ripped from my navel – yes it was traumatic. But even more so, was losing my pants in the process. In front of my entire high school senior class. Don’t ask….that’s a story I don’t discuss for obvious reasons. But it’s been 10 years and I’m happily married – so perhaps the story will come out at some point. Stay tuned.)

Where were we? Ah, yes. Jewelry. Perhaps just the earrings.

For my shoes – I’m going with comfort. Competing in endurance events has taught me that flashy, trendy items that offer little support are most definitely NOT for me. Some women sport 4-inch pumps, walking gracefully from room to room and gliding effortlessly down marble staircases. I am not one of them. I would break my nose with one step. Instead, I’ll sport a pair of low heels that (even more importantly) don’t make my feet swell. If I can avoid cankles, I will do so at all cost.

But as the sandals are open-toed, having cute, presentable toe nails is crucial. (And we all know how I feel about feet.)

I hate them.

Especially when people touch my feet (involuntary shiver).

A pedicure is OUT of the question.

Instead, toe nail polish will be the name of the game. Unfortunately, the bottle of “Smokin’ Havana” polish (the only bottle of nail polish I owned...note the past tense) was somehow left in the car when we drove from Pensacola to California. (last year. Ahem. Small cough).

Honestly, I don’t know what’s sadder: the fact that I haven’t painted my toes in more than a year, OR the fact that I left the only bottle of polish I owned in the car for a year and didn’t think about it. Clearly, painted nails are not a priority. And after my year of Ironman, at least I’ve got nine (toenails). (Ten toes – don’t worry).

And then I realized I would have to make a list.

ITEM 1: NAIL POLISH.

I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I would know it when I saw it. Nothing too flash or fancy; and it would hopefully match my blush and lipstick.

ITEM 2: BLUSH, LIPSTICK.

Is it wrong to admit I’ve had the same blush compact for two years? And the lipstick is even older… Normally I’m fine with chap stick…and my cheeks are naturally rosy (thanks rosacia). But if I’m springing for nail polish, I might as well get other items. It will only help, right?

And then there’s the debacle with my hair. Don’t even get me started.

Let’s just say that I’m in one of those awkward, in-between stages of hair growth. I had a cute cut two months ago; and though it was awesome, it just didn’t scream “ME!” So I’m growing it out. The problem now…is that I’m limited in my styling options. Somehow, I don’t think pulling it back into a ponytail is exactly the look I’m going for. And I know for a fact they wouldn’t let me through the door sporting a visor.

Going to the salon is out (and additionally – I’m cheap when it comes to this stuff. I would rather eat sushi with Nate, get a really nice bottle of wine). Plus, I had a bad experience once where my stylist, perturbed at my slippery, thin hair that would NOT cooperate while being put into a French twist, sprayed so many products onto my head, that my hair resembled a heavily lacquered beehive. I was actually fearful of open flames. It was something from out of this world, perhaps the 5th element. I swear that you could have bounced tennis balls off my outer shell. It was awful; thankfully no photographic evidence exists of this traumatic event.

The memory though – seared into my brain – is enough.

That night, the one with the flammable shell, I redid did my own hair and it turned out great. So…I figured…I might as well try again. Only this time, I’ll have my race strategy, err, action plan.

ITEM 3: HAIR PRODUCTS.

But first I needed to figure out what I want to do with my hair. Tricky…very tricky…

Eventually I decided that I would probably end up pulling everything back into a low, “messy” bun (but elegant!). The kind that says, “I don’t care how it looks, but even in its messy state, it took me hours to get every strand strategically placed!” If I could add mega amounts of volume and perhaps even a few curls – then we might have something.

Unfortunately, I own nothing that would help with this scheme, save the hair binders.

Let it be known: I’m a-okay when it comes to hair binders.

I spent my time, walking up and down and down and up and back around the isles. There were so many products and I had no idea where to start.

I contemplated the curling iron; but the last time I used it, I was in 5th grade. It was Halloween, and I was trying to go for some 'Marilyn Monroe meets Asia' look. I think it involved a kimono. Kindly keep all thoughts to yourself!

Ever the grown up, I decided to curl my hair, but ended up with a tangled mess of knots, that my Mom had to patiently and painstakingly work out. All I remembered was my Dad muttering in the background, “There’s no way we’re going to get that out. We’re going to have to cut everything off.”

Considering that the iron was lodged firmly on the front of my head, I was sure I would lose half my hair. Suffice to say, I was traumatized.

Okay – so curling iron is out.

Then I spotted the rollers. And let it be known, when I think of rollers, I think of the kind you precariously balance on while biking and praying to a higher power to remain upright.

Hair rollers were very different. There were many varieties, but I eventually settled with the Conair ones with the grippy, Velcro-like surface that promised to hold my hair directly to the roller as I rolled it up. But just in case it didn’t stick, I also opted for the hair clips (that the package suggested) to keep everything in place.

And just to be on the safe side, I bought 2 packs of 12. You never know, right? Better to be safe than sorry. Seriously – when racing, I would rather have more gels than I need, more salt tabs than less. Lord knows, I’ve inadvertently dropped stuff while hammering 20 mph down a course. Shit happens. The last thing I want is to get half my hair up in rollers and then realize I can’t do the other side because I’m darned out of clips.

Failing to prepare is preparing to fail…

But then I realized there was the whole conundrum of once I’ve successfully gotten my hair up into said rollers, how to make it stay curly and voluminous. And cute.

So I walked back towards the shampoo and hair care isle. Correction: Salon Style Isle.

I knew extra-firm hair spray would be critical to mission success. I wouldn’t go running without the right footwear; so too would I be armed with the proper tools for ultimate hair triumph. The right product that would mold my hair into the perfect mass of curls and ‘messy bun’ that I envisioned was indispensable.

But which one to choose?

Do I go with the super cheap but unknown brand? Or do I select the uber-expensive one that I knew would work? Choices choices….

While I was mulling it over, I walked to the other end of the isle, and came face to face with products that were touted as “curl activators.” Huh? Apparently by washing my hair with special shampoo, the natural curl that I have will be activated. Okay.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered that not only was the curl-activating shampoo necessary, but so too was the curl-activating conditioner, the dream curl serum, the curl hold mousse, and curl highlight gel.

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

Okay… think running…bring it back to the basics. I don’t need anything fancy to go out and run. Heck, the ancient Greeks used to run au natural. Thought it would be highly uncomfortable, it is possible. So things like clothes and shoes are necessary (for this athlete). Extras like heart rate monitor, gps tracker, visor, glasses, ipod – those are all fillers.

Hair products are the same.

In the end I selected the curl activating shampoo and the dream curl perfecting spray. It sounded good and looked better. Plus, it was cheap and I was willing to spring for it. But I still had the looming decision of which hair spray product to choose…

I had flashbacks to my salon disaster and decided to go for the super expensive holding spray. I’ve had friends who have used it, but more importantly – have liked it. And I know for a fact that it doesn’t give its user the hair-plastered-to-head-about-to-go-up-in-flames look. At least that’s what I’m hoping.

The final arsenal in my attack, were hair accessories. Yes, I have plenty of barrettes and hair binders on hand – but somehow they don’t seem appropriate. Especially with the highly polished Marines in their uniforms. Somehow I don’t think my hair scrunchie would do the trick.

At this point I was tired from looking at products, and everything was becoming alarmingly similar. I could feel a bonk coming on. And since when did bobby pins come in so many different colors? Black? Brown? Black-Brown? Blond…? Red…?

Nope. Most definitely NOT red. And most definitely a bonk.

I could feel it: I was crabby, antsy, uncomfortable, and my ankles were beginning to swell from being on my feet for so long. Compression hosen would have been helpful, but I just needed to gut it out.

The choices…becoming overwhelming….like do I choose Gatorade or coke or chicken broth at mile 23 of Ironman…? All will work but one might work better than the other….

So I did the same thing it Target as I did during Ironman: I closed my eyes and grabbed the nearest one available. In the end, light brown was the pick. And I breathed a sigh of relief. But just to make sure I had all my bases covered, I grabbed a pack of elegant bobby slides – similar to bobby pins, but able to hold more hair in place. Nothing like grabbing that last cup of ice on the way out of the aid station…

I looked down at my basket and realized that I needed to be done right now! Hair stuff I’ve never used, products that I hoped would work, new shades of lipstick and blush, nail polish, and a few other things I thought I might need… it all seemed overwhelming. There was so much to choose from – like sitting in T2 and volunteers asking if you want the Rasberry or Double Latte gel?

Both will work. But in the end, you just need to move your ass and go.

So I checked out. Literally. Threw all my items on the checkout line, and watched as the Target associate rang up my purchase. I gulped, but consoled myself that beauty is pain. And worth every penny. Perhaps the salon would have been cheaper – but I would be remiss if I failed to mention there is fulfillment in the journey. Not just the end result.

Please work please work please work!

Now, hopefully I can get all this stuff to work. You know what they say – NEVER try anything new on a race day.

Oops.

Oh well. Either it will work great and I’ll be a hair genius, or one day – in the far far future – Nathaniel and I will look back and laugh. I’m hoping for the first but suspecting a bit of the latter may happen as well.

Stay tuned…We shall see...

Random progression

ONE day at a time, enjoying

TWO House Monsters at play while juggling

THREE very different career choices and being sick for nearly

FOUR weeks with Ironmanitis and now taking a

FIVE minute break to just sit back take it all in and choosing one of

SIX bottles of wine to open while seeing

SEVEN pottery teapots displayed around the house while the annoying dog upstairs barks for

EIGHT minutes straight so I’ll just go paint my

NINE remaining toenails in preparation for Thursday’s USMC ball and dream about

TEN beautiful places I want to visit someday…

My Ellen to Mer's Portia: run, wine, food, and friends!

I didn't think we looked like a couple, but then again we DO live in California. And we were wine tasting. Not that there's anything wrong with that!

Let me back up, before I get too ahead of myself.

I knew it would be painful. My lungs would burn, my legs would ache, and the pace would be slow. Remember all that stuff this past year about 'my fast being your slow and your fast is my slow and sometimes my slow is better than your fast but its all hogwash because in the end we're all running and should be happy to be out there...'

Remember that?

Well, I can safely say that my current fast wouldn't even keep up with my old slow. So this is my new norm and I'm working towards a faster fast, but first I must build on my current slow.

Now - repeat 5X fast.

But misery loves company. And though that sounds awful, I can safely say that my FIRST run since Ironman Hawaii was exponentially better because of Meredith and Soren.

We had agreed to a play-date. Sure, Nathaniel and I only have Tabbitha and Anabelle, but that doesn't mean we can't host our friends and their kids. Plus, Nathaniel had yet to meet 12-week-old Soren and after seeing him interacting with our niece, Adelyn, in Hawaii - I knew he was a softie at heart.
First order of business was the run. Nathaniel bid us farewell as Meredith, Soren, and myself set out on the "flattest" route I could think of. Flat - I should say) after climbing and subsequently descending the first and second big hill off the Carlsbad coast. I can personally assure you that reaching your max LT is possible while chugging along at 12 min per mile pace.

But we prevailed, we survived, and with little whining or crying on my part. For the record, Soren was a great running partner. As the token male he didn't openly pee or make farting jokes, which was a major change from the boys I used to run with in high school and college. There may have been a poopy diaper, but in all honesty, with the hills (especially on the way back), that could have been any one of us. (just kidding).

Later, the three of us set out for Wine Tasting. As we were walking out the door, Nathaniel inquired as to who was driving. I had hoped that he would come with us, but he didn't want to interrupt girl-time, and figured he could get some studying done while we were gone.

"Mer is. She has to!" I replied without thinking.

Both Nate and Meredith took this to mean that I would get completely wasted on my wine samples, but I was referring to Soren's car seat. Oh well - lost in translation, I guess. The tables were turned when I ended up driving Mer's car back. Though I haven't been working out in my off-season, I can safely say that my wine tolerance is much better than normal.

Which Creek Winery was great - plenty of samples and great camaraderie all around. At one point, Meredith asked a couple standing next to us if they would take our picture. They looked at each other, giggled, and then one agreed. She was very careful to include Soren in the shot and then commented, "Oh - you guys are so cute!"

Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact that I love hanging out with friends; but I didn't think anything of it.

Only when Mer turned to me and whispered, "Do you think they think we're a couple...?" that the realization dawned on me.

The giggles. The looks. The 'oh - you're so cute!' comment.

Yep - they thought we were a couple.

I couldn't help myself, really. I started laughing, really really loudly. And that in turn attracted the attention of nearly half the tasters assembled (which was plenty at 5 pm on a Saturday night).

Now, a smart, non-wine-sampling-person would have left it at that.

Clearly, I am not one of the above.

"Just so you know, ha ha, we're [gesturing between Meredith and myself] NOT a couple!" I tried to get out, between fits of laughter.

Classy, yes. Especially in my jean jacket and flip flops holding my mostly-empty wine glass.

If my laughter hadn't gotten the attention of ever patron in the room, my comment certainly did. Jen and Kelly (yes, I know them by name and no, I don't think there's anything wrong with that) who were pouring samples just shook their heads and one said, "No comment."

We were officially the token lesbian couple at Witch Creek Winery that night.

I think I made it worse when I explained, "We're married! Honestly" And, as though to prove my point, I flashed my wedding band. I suppose my error in not mentioning Nathaniel. Or Meredith's Dave. Hindsight is 20-20.

But we really did have a great time and I'm looking forward to our next sampling foray to Witch Creek.

I knew that I would have to drive when Meredith exclaimed, "I want to do Vineman 70.3 next year!" A sober person would not make a comment like that, especially after just having a baby. So she gave me her keys and we safely made our way back to my place.

Beef stir-fry was on the menu for dinner, and it was fun cooking and chatting. Soren was awake and I wondered what it would be like for Nathaniel and myself to become parents. It seems that so many of my friends, are either pregnant or new parents. And while it seems exciting and wonderful, I don't think we're quite ready.

There are so many responsibilities involved, and half the time I feel like a kid myself. I know that my life would undeniably change for the better - but we're just not ready to take that leap (yet!). Plus, we've got the added element of Nathaniel's impending deployments; there are so many things he would miss. Then again - I don't know of anyone who IS 100% ready to be a parent.

In the meantime, I'll get my baby fix by hanging out with Soren and playing with Adelyn over Christmas. They are both adorable - beyond words. But at the first sign of a poopy diaper, I get to give 'em back.

The night ended when Mer - who had comsumed 4 HUGE glasses of water and a diet coke to boot - left for home and it was only me and Nate. The House Monsters were let out of the bedroom (Anabelle was hiding anyway. I just don't want my 19-pound cat lunging at a baby half her weight), and Nathaniel and I enjoyed the rest of the evening in our clean house.
Not that it was gross or anything - but nothing brings out the vacuum cleaner like the promise of guests. I watched a little 'Frasier' while he napped on the couch and the fireplace flickered in the background. I realized my legs were a little sore, the calves a little tight. I couldn't help but smile - my first run since Ironman.

I can't wait to do it again.

Off Season Perspectives

Thus far, my off season has been trucking along. True, I have the never-ending sinus infection and three weeks after my initial sore throat, I'm still dealing with the residual effects.

And if you think I'm kidding, sadly - I'm not.

In all honesty, I blame Ironman. I think I'm allergic. Seriously.

Even the thought of training sends me into a snot-producing frenzy. So in the meantime, I've pushed next season thoughts aside and have enjoyed easing back into my own routine. You know... stuff that I wanted to do MORE with Nathaniel, but didn't really get a chance to because I was:

a) Exhausted from swimming (but STILL happy and grateful to be doing it)
b) Exhausted from biking (but STILL happy and grateful to be doing it)
c) Exhausted from running (but STILL happy and grateful to be doing it)
d) All of the above
e) None of the above.

If you selected "e", I vote you off my blog.

What have we done...?

Well, I'm glad you asked.... Let me share just a bit....

(cue dream sequence music. probably involving a harp of sorts....)

Hiking! And yes, the topography is dusty. After climbing to the top of Mt Bernardo near Lake Hodges, my shoes turned rust colored. The dust that came from the laces when I untied them was classic!
Answer: A flattened penny and quarter! (But GOOD LUCK finding your flattened change. Nathaniel saw one of the pennies go flying)
Question: What happens when you put your spare change on railroad tracks?
Fall in Southern California means cooler nights (nothing like my Northern counterparts). But the fireplace adds to the ambiance. And its fun to curl up to while fighting Ironmanitis.
Stopping to smell the flowers...even if I can't, err, smell much.
Over the weekend the surf was a little high. Well, either that or the surfers were plain inexperienced. Or...that was a REALLY BIG SHARK. Couldn't tell you what exactly happened, but this was the aftermath...
Nathaniel enjoying the view from the top of Iron Ridge, just off Highway 67. Beautiful!
Tabbitha helped me change the sheets.
Nathaniel getting ready for the FIRST USMC Birthday Ball (ie - the one where he went 'stag'. I'm going to the next one though...but I couldn't resist a man in uniform.) Can you spot the UNPACKED bike in the shot? I know...the winds are changing...
Ooooh Boy! Someone managed to sneak a chocolate bar in our day hike bag! Nice reward at the top (note the mail box down to the right...I LOVE how people can leave notes and write accounts of their ascents. VERY fun stuff while hiking. Kind of like seeing a stuffed toy goat at the top of the first indoor rock wall that I climbed a few years ago up in Wisconsin... Very off topic... sorry...its the Nyquil)!
Proof that the House Monster and Mini Monster CAN share the loveseat. Sort of.
Nathaniel, making dinner. And it was GREAT! I had my doubts - about the cold salmon pizza (who wouldn't?) - but in the end it tasted like a really good lox bagel. Add a bit of wine and...mmmmmm. I think I'll make him cook more often.
BEAUTIFUL San Diego County (looking east towards the Cleavland National Forest). I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous when Nathaniel told me this view was akin to what he sees from his helicopter. Except he's going really really fast. I LOVE it out here!
Trying to not trip on a rock at the top of Iron Ridge Peak. Yes, coordination and grace were never my strong points. Hey, at least I didn't fall off the top.
Beware of: Mountain Lions, Rattlesnakes, Poison Oak, Sharks, Scorpions, Monsters, and anything else that could startle you at Penasquitoes Canyon. But I would rather know that not know. Right...? Or is ignorance really bliss? Oops - sorry, its the Nyquil talking again.
Also - Beware of husband with camera!
And GIANT cacti (oh - you know how he loves succulents).
Once in a while, my balance is okay... Still, I have no interest in climbing Mt. Everest and going over the ladders that the Sherpas place over crevasses....
Me and Nathaniel, top of Mount Bernardo.
Part of Lake Hodges...what a great trail system!
We made it to the top! YEA! EVEN though I sound like a freight train climbing. Is it just me or am I really out of shape? Nope - not the case. Just being sick and the Ironmanitis. Yeah...that's it. The good news, was that every Mountain Lion in San Diego County heard me approaching and was scared away.
You never know what you'll see if you keep your eyes open. For some reason, I just thought this was beautiful.
Now we're talking...Pizza Port on a Saturday afternoon...this is what its like when I'm not on my bike for 7 or 8 hours...Wow.
Searching for dolphins along the coast...
Um...I think they missed the tide. The people in the boat (thankfully NOT the dolphins)
Different view, different perspective, but still the same person. And HAPPY - even though I'm still fighting off my cold/sinus suff/Ironmanitis.

234 and counting!

Happy 234th Birthday to the United States Marine Corps! If there ever was a day to eat cake...this would be it! Next week at Nathaniel's squadron's birthday ball, you had bet your bottom dollar that I will. After watching the Oldest Marine present, the Youngest Marine present, and the Guest of Honor take the first bite, of course. Gotta love the many traditions of the corps.

Thankfully, I have yet to attend a birthday ball where the cake has run out. THAT would not be fun.

In the mean time, I'll leave you with this - a photo from the 2007 ball in Pensacola. Last year we were driving from Florida to California and celebrated together in Flagstaff, Arizona (there were beer samplers, desert, and a most excellent brew pub).


This year, I'm not really sure what's in store. I DO know that our ball is sometime next week...and I think I'll wear the same thing as I did 2 years ago (gasp!). I know, I know... major fashion faux pas. The good thing - is that no one in our NEW squadron has seen me in the gold dress. So everything is even. Just don't tell - thanks.

Additionally, I think our ball is being held near...Palomar... When I heard the news, I had initially planned on bringing my bike, and riding to the top the morning after.

Thankfully, I've since come to my senses.

Instead, Nathaniel and I will hike around the area and maybe take a day trip somewhere. Who knows. Ah - the joy of the off season + celebrations.

In all honesty - Happy Birthday to every Marine! Thank you for your commitment and sacrifice. And for picking the BEST uniform out there. Gosh, I still get tounge tied when I see Nathaniel in his dress blues. I knew I picked a good one...

Happy Birthday Marines!