I've been MIA for the past couple weeks, and I apologize. Although I know I don't need to justify it, especially with this overtaxed, whirling dervish crowd, here's a recap, in no particular order, of what I've been up to:
--Deciding what dessert I'll take to Thanksgiving at my sister's house. I'm no baker, especially at altitude, but the spice cake on the cover of Sunset magazine is just too much to resist (probably because it has 32 ounces of cream cheese and like 40 cups of butter). I've never successfully baked a cake from scratch, let alone one with six layers, but I figure my family is the best audience for my attempt. If it flops terribly (likely), I can bring along the magazine cover so they know what it was supposed to look like.
--Hosting my neighbors for a long-overdue dinner on Saturday night; pre-marathon, Saturday nights meant drooling on the couch in front of bad TLC fare until I fell asleep. Needless to say, dessert was not spice cake, but rather can't fail Ghirardelli brownies (from the mix, whose box so helpfully posts high-altitude instructions).
--Feeling extremely grateful that the new season of Project Runway won't be canceled due to the writer's strike.
--Working on a beast of a story for the March issue of Runner's World. I won't spill the story here, but suffice it to say, I've interviewed over 20 top-level runners and at least as many physiological experts and I'm so excited to see it all in print. O.k., one leak: I talked to Margaret Davis, an 84-old marathoner who climbed Mt. Whitney with her daughter and granddaughter to celebrate her 80th birthday. How cool is that?
--Trying not to get annoyed with Amelia, deep into learning her letter sounds. She walks around all day, saying stuff like, "Can I have some mmmmmmmmilk? What does milk start with, Mom? The letter B?" I'm all for self-directed learning, but the fffffffour-thousandth time she asks me what dddddddddoll starts with, I start to lose it.
--Perhaps most importantly, I've been doing my best to give myself an athletic break. Much easier said than done. I joined the local Y, and now swim while Amelia takes a 30-minute lesson two times a week (and Ben is daycare...the benefits of membership!). I've done my core routine, um, maybe twice since the marathon, and my back is letting me know it. Dang it that hard work can be so quickly undone.
I've run probably 7 or 8 times, but won't let myself run for at least another week. Why? My left knee is so, so, so unhappy. It actually doesn't hurt much when I run, but afterwards: yowser! And the whole day, it continues to ache, especially sitting at my desk and driving, but it hurts even when I'm in bed. The ache is deep, so intense that I'm convinced icing it won't help, and sometimes my ankle below, the one I sprained so badly, chimes in too. The pains have got to be related.
I've been trying to make believe that it'll just go away, but when 40 minutes of steady state on the stationary bike yesterday sent it into a tailspin, I know that's not the truth. I'm going to call a doctor tomorrow for an appointment, but I'm not sure what he can recommend besides laying off it. Fingers are, as always, crossed.
Truthfully, that's the real reason I've been MIA. I feel like so much of my pre-marathon postings were injury-induced whining, and I know my whining is the last thing most moms need to hear. Well, that and, "I want wwwwwaffles for bbbbbreakfast. What do they start with, Mom: the letter X?"