Tag Archives: peg leg

Snack Bar Duty

1 May

I have found a small, itty, bitty, teeny, weeny positive to my new, limited time on the trails…More of my friends want to run with me now!  I guess I used to be intimidating, but now that I am a slowly recovering peg leg, they flock to me.  Well, not really flock, but maybe two have trickled in.  This is fun.  A new batch of buddies to share the trails with.  Last week we did about 75 minutes of trails.  We laughed, we paused for texts for NCL and phone calls from realtors about escrow and we sweated and enjoyed a gorgeous morning.  We plan to do it again.  I guess this reinforces the notion that I can get it all done in an hour (see previous post), but it also shows me how many more amigas I can share this with if I am doing an hour or so instead of 2.5 hours.  I guess I have more sane than insane friends (but, J and K, you are the dearest insane friends ever!!!).

I worked the snack bar this evening for Princelightningbolt’s track meet.  Some brilliant filmmaker needs to do a documentary on high school sports’ snack bars.  Seriously.  What are the differences in menu, volunteers and overall success for various sports.  Why?  I was the chef for pasta bowls, quesadillas and anything involving chili and cheese.  While this sounds disgusting under normal circumstances, when you have spent 5-7 hours at a track meet, outside in heat and cold and God knows what, this food sounds and tastes delicious.  And if you can volunteer with a crew of cool people, this can be fun and hilarious…what is not to laugh at with rubber gloves, quesadilla makers (yep, these trump my George Foreman Grill), hot dog machines and green container parmesan cheese?  Can you make a meal of that?  Oh, ya, canned chicken, too.

For chili nachos and chili dogs we offer two kinds of cheese to chose from…shredded or smooth nacho cheese. When the lines were long and the people in line impatient, we somehow resorted to shouting, “Does he want shredded or liquid cheese on his nachos?’  Liquid cheese?  Nasty.  Who would choose that option?  Lots of people, apparently.  I gobbed spoonfuls of nacho cheese onto canned chili nachos, hot dogs and who knows what over the course of a few hours.  I think Michelle Obama may need to have a talk with these folks.

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Consistency

18 Apr

One of the hardest things in life is consistency.  Can you even think of one aspect of life where this does not hold true?  I can’t.  With health, diet, exercise, parenting, setting goals, maintaining friendships, keeping up your house or yourself…or your blog…consistency is the key to success.  And…I’ve been slacking.

While I was debilitated by my peg leg, I was darn consistent and it was fun and easy to write every day.  I have been distracted by all the wonderful activities I can now participate in and I have neglected this fun blog.  I have thought of great topics most days and then by 10 or 11 p.m. been too tired and figured I’d post the next day, but then the next day became the next day and…I am middle aged, so I forgot about said, cool topic and the post was never written.

This resonates for most things in life as well.  Wait to long and you miss the best part.  Fail to be consistent and fall short of important life goals. Focus too much on what needs to be done and the special, important moments will pass you by.   My blog moments may not be the most important, but they are fun.  The documenting of the insanities of my life and the loves of my life make them seem all the more worthwhile.

In what part of your life do you need to be more consistent?  I’m fascinated to know.  I’m going to be more consistent starting tonight.  My posts might not be fabulous and life altering, but they will be there.  I’ll start with every other day for now…just be consistent, right?

Getting it Done in an Hour on the Trails

9 Apr

Peg Leg LOVES to run.  You all know that by now.  But for me, it means a lot to reiterate it nowadays.  In the past week or so,  I have run one hour plus with both my running pals on different trails and different days.  I am content…kind of.  To catch up with my weekly trail pal was awesome…slow…but awesome.  We covered everything from sweet (ahem, annoying) husbands to seven year old birthday parties to college tours for Juniors in high school to varicose veins…all in one hour and ten minutes.  Did I mention we were warned by another runner about a bobcat?  I had a blast.  My foot was sore and tired and not happy afterward, but a few days later my other run pal was in town from Nor Cal and we hit the trails.  We hashed out work, kids, vacation, MAJOR extended family troubles and eyelashes…all in an hour.

Runners are efficient.  We cut to the chase.  When running, you don’t have to face the person next to you, so probing questions, amidst heaving breathing and high heart rates, are easier, they flow, we don’t concern ourselves with edicate and proper manners.  Put your head down, push the pace and ask, “Who the hell does your husband think he is dealing with?”  This is par for the course on the trails.

These conversations refresh and renew the spirit.  The spirit of the runner and the spirit of the woman.  I am sad these refreshing, renewing runs will be only one hour now, but I am grateful for how much we can cram in.  I am bossy and I can get it done.  Run Happy.

Are You Gonna Be OK?

25 Mar

When I first started on this Peg Leg journey, my biggest fear was that I would never run again.  This was a visceral fear that I literally felt in my core.  Terrifying.  Running has been my rock and my constant since I was fourteen years old.  I depended on running when I felt happy, sad, scared, stressed, you name it.  I wanted to run.  Long hours on the dirt, away from complications, niceties and falsities, left me feeling refreshed and renewed no matter how badly I had felt when I headed out to the door.  Nothing else has ever made me feel so clean, safe, confident.  Just the thought of losing this companion brought tears to my eyes (dramatic, I know, but true…and I am not much of a crier).

In fact, running is what I have thought about most before and after surgery.  However, just as I was surprised by how I kind of luxuriated in being a nuisance (see past post), I have been surprised by how I have learned that I will be OK no matter what happens with my foot.  Shocking, even.  I do feel this, though. And I am sure some of these thoughts have been preemptory to prepare my psyche in case that is what the doc says.  Train the brain and the truth will be less painful.  I have done this now for months, so today, I felt ready.

I picked up my new orthotics and all seems good with my foot.  I have run a couple days each week for about 30-45 minutes and only been sore.  I have come to enjoy the gym more and all the cardio equipment has to offer.  I am even doing a daily 100 push ups (yes, big boy style) and weights.  After a few minutes I asked the doc about hills and running.  He tried to be encouraging, but basically, running is the worst thing I can do for my foot.  Running highly increases the chances for a joint replacement in the near future.  F**K!

But, I pulled up my big girl pants and felt OK.  I know I will be OK.  I can do things.  I may not be able to rely on my runs for all the things I once did, but I can do baby runs without hills and I can do many other activities.  It is empowering to know I will be OK.  I might even be stronger than I thought…I’ll keep you posted on that one…

Time Flies for Everyone Else

13 Mar

I ran into a bunch of friends and aquaintances today who were all happy to see Peg Leg doning not one, but two shoes.  So nice of them to inquire about the condition of my foot, my psyche, my running.  Funny how many commented how quickly my Peg Leg period flew by.   This is true, but ironic for the said Peg Leg.  It is reminiscent of a pregnancy that is unending for the woman growing the child, enduring the morning sickness (or in my case all day sickness), the weight gain, the aches, the pains, the ugly clothes, but so quick and painless for the acquaintances and surrounding circle.  They marvel, “Wow, I can’t believe you already had the baby,”  while inside you cringe and think, “Stupid idiot.  It was the longest 10 months of my life!”

OK, I’m exaggerating.  My Peg Leg was not nearly as tortuous as my pregnancies, but it did not seem quick.  It often felt unending and in reality, I am not yet myself.  I am thrilled to be up and about, but I have a few weeks or months to go before I am in full running rampage mode.  It’s funny, though, to think of all the events or traumas of our friends and acquaintances that fly by for us, the bystanders whose lives continue on at the regular pace.  Are those of us who are not amidst a life changing or life interrupting event missing something?  I kind of wonder.  I don’t wish setbacks on anyone because even in the best scenario, they are a pain the neck.  However, I wonder if that is the only way to slow us down nowadays…at least in OC.  When Sirskatesalot spends part of the winter spreading aloha on the islands, he comes home and swears he is going to hang onto that slower pace, that appreciation for what is at hand longer than he did the previous year.  It’s tough to do around here.  But setbacks force you to slow down, travel to the islands does the same.  If I have to pick one, I pick the latter, but maybe it’s just a mindset.

A New Nest

11 Mar

We have a potted ficus on our porch where a hummingbird has built a nest and filled it with eggs for the past two springtimes. This is a brave, brave mama bird.  The ficus is right by our front door and our house is a busy, noisy house.  Loud kids, loud friends, loud dogs, loud slamming of the door, yet this mama is remarkably tolerant.  I have no idea why she chose this location because I am certain our neighbors (one without kids, one with only one baby and a few who are retired) are much calmer and quieter than my raucous household.  But for some magical reason, she feels safe enough with our crazy family to raise her babies here.

This year she threw us for a loop and we found her dismantling her nest.  We were concerned as the nest we have lived with for two years was torn to shreds.  Was this a statement about our home?  Were we inhospitable?  Was our porch for some reason uninhabitable or an inappropriate place to raise babies?

Then, Sirskatealot and I started noticing a hummingbird buzz by at the end of the walkway.  After  a week or so, I spied the little gem of a nest in a schefflera plant in our jungle.  This perfect little baby home was reconstructed from the original on the porch but with fun new elements, like a shred of toilet paper hidden amongst our plants from years of being tp’d by girls because of Princelightningbolt’s charms.  There are two perfect, jelly belly sized eggs inside.   This mama hummingbird is the hardest working mama in the world. We are thrilled for our spring surprise.  Watching the mama keeping her eggs warm, watching the slow hatching process and the growth of sweet little birdies is a thrill.  Last year we even snapped some pictures as one left the nest.

Spring means new and great things. I am running (ahem, “lightly jogging”) a few days each week.  This peg leg is feeling ready to move on.  I walked on the beach with an old friend today for over an hour without much pain.   I have a new work out partner at the gym.  Track season for Princelightningbolt has begun.  We have had some rain…and a couple beach days.  Princessenpointe is counting the days until summer.  The time change happened last night.  We are ready for newness, growth, a renewed sense of who we are and what we want to do while we are here.

I’ll keep you posted on our baby birds.  We have one tom cat left in our hood (last man standing against the coyotes).  He’s a formidable opponent, but with the freshness in the air and a mama’s determination, I think I will have pics of new baby birds for you soon.  In the meantime, I hope you have a spring in your step.

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You Have Feet in Your Shoes

23 Feb

I wore two shoes tonight.  Ha, funny.  I know what you are thinking.  For me, this is a big deal.  Doc said athletic shoe should be worn on Peg Leg by this weekend.  I figured Friday evening is this weekend and slipped off sexy slipper and on my new running shoe.  Yuck!  This feels terrible, scary, insecure and it kind of hurts.  These bones, ligaments and muscles are not used to pressure and weight.  I am limping.

A limp looks great with jeans and black trail running shoes with neon pink and green accents.   What do you wear with these?  I have never cared what my running shoes look like, just cared how they feel.  No one notices your shoes when they are caked with dirt and out on the lonely trails.  Now I notice them.  Gross.  But, maybe not as gross as the sexy sandal.  And, yes, I am still elated to not be lugging around Das Boot.  My sense of fashion is just a little challenged with the athletic shoe appendage.

I went to a great lunch to celebrate a friend’s birthday today at a small cafe in a quaint town nearby.  I felt really old when we first sat down.  Not because I am older than my pals, but because they were all inquiring about my Peg Leg and I was obliging them.  This is totally what old people do.  They lament, in great detail, their physical ailments and doctor appointments.  I am not yet into my fourth decade (ahem, ya, I may be bragging a little bit), yet I realized, that is me!  Holy cow.  Has five weeks of an injury really brought me to a screeching halt?  I have nothing else to offer?  Where did I go?   I think I used to be witty and had lots of interesting topics to discuss.  Instead, I segued nicely into asking about a friend’s knee injury (she tripped over a kid at a haunted house and tweaked her knee badly…this is a true and interesting story).  Again, though, this is what old people do.  Ailments, doctor appointments and medication are the main topics of conversation.

I am hardly done with Peg Leg, but I have a shoe. I hid Das Boot under my bed.  I am slow.  I hobble.  But, I am moving on.  I am young and free (he, he, he).  Come with me on a new journey.  Bring your running shoes or your George Foreman Grill.  We will get there on a trail or recipe, by recipe.  Mscooksalot might even join the gym to exercise with me…pressure is on.  Limitations are exhausting.  Peg Legs can limp to fun and excitement and stories about living life rather than slowing down.  I’m too young for this shit.

Another one from the best:  You have brains in your head.  You have feet in your shoes.  You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.  You’re on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the  guy who’ll decide where to go.  -Dr. Seuss

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