Wipeout

My brother Bryan and I had so much fun on the "FlowRider" at Maverick's in Sunriver. This is a surfing simulator. While I can't say we are ready to catch a tube in the ocean, it was a unique experience and I definitely recommend it!

Here is the FlowRider at rest and when they first turn on the water. The entire surface and all the walls are padded. At the top is a rubber grate to drain the water but keep your mangled body afloat. You'll see what I mean.

The bottom 2 photos show the lifeguard demonstrating how to surf the fake wave. Looks pretty easy!

This is the first picture I took of Bryan:

You can see his head at the top of the wave...he wasn't on the board long enough for me to even capture. 

Bryan demonstrates the whole process:

1. Get set up

2. Push off

3. Momentary thrill

4. Wipeout 

5. Regain your spatial bearings and hope (in my case) your swimsuit is still on

There were about 10 other people participating, so we had to take turns throughout the 90-minute session. I tried the wakeboard first: you start at the top and kind of leap face-first onto the board on your belly.  Somehow I messed it up and instantly lost the board, leaving me face down with water forcing my swim top off my chest. So after one attempt I chose to focus on trying to master the surfboard. 

Here are a few more pictures of Bryan wiping out before we get to some video action!

The pictures of him surfing look pretty good! Too bad he was usually down after only a few seconds. 

Each of us on an early attempt:

We look so awkward!

Two of my better rides, including a gnarly wipeout:

I was the only girl out of about a dozen participants (except an 8-year old who mostly did the boogie board), and I am PROUD to say I held the record for the longest ride! Based on Bryan's counting, I almost mastered the bull ride, at 7 seconds. (I think one guy may have reached 8 seconds toward the end, but until then, I was their idol, ha ha.)

The whole thing was tons of fun, and much harder than it looks! I have no idea how similar that is to real surfing, but it must be very challenging. Also, I think I got whiplash because that night I could not lift my head off the pillow without using my hands for support, and my neck was quite sore for a few days afterward.  Bryan and I agreed: it was totally worth it!

And now, just because WOW, here's that kid showing off:

In the second clip he's shirtless (you're welcome!) but it must have distracted him because he falls. One thing I didn't catch on video: he fell but the board kept "surfing" on its own on the wave. Bryan and I goaded him to walk through the water and jump on it, and he did it! It looked so cool, and we were awestruck nerds. :)

Rugged Maniac 2013

I'm a huge fan of "adventure" races; I think it's much more fun than just running on the road. My sister Diana and I did the Rugged Maniac 5k at Portland International Raceway together.

First we must get our "outfits" on.

August is lookin' good!

I'm so grateful my parents came along - Dad watched my kids and Mom took lots of pictures!

Ready to get RUGGED!

Diana took the time to put on her "Age 21" bracelet and her "Free Beer" bracelet (which she will not need!)...

...then as we heard the final call for our wave to begin, she remembered she hadn't changed into her crappy shoes! Ha ha. 

The first obstacle was climbing through this waist-deep mud pit with a hundred or so other people. 

Diana navigating the uphill barbed wire crawl.

My favorite picture! (Rugged Maniac even posted it on their facebook page.) :)

My mom was only able to photograph a handful of obstacles near the finish line. There were over 20 obstacles over 3.1 miles.

Lots of climbing, lots of mud, tunnels, balance beams, and more.

And the big finish!

That was way more fun than the rest of it - lots of pretty tough challenges.

TA-DA!

We did it.

Rugged chicks!

Madelyn did NOT want a hug from Mommy!

Our amazing photographer and supporter!

Next came the group showers. FREEZING cold water.

We had a little water fight with the guys next to us, and there were bits of debris everywhere, if you catch my drift. 

We can't wait to do this again...thinking about Race the Reaper this fall. It's 6 miles and the obstacles are SERIOUS.  I get excited watching the video on their home page - check it out!  We want my dad to do Rugged Maniac with us next year, he would do great!

Kezia's ACL surgery

Introductions
This is Kezia. Pronunciation rhymes with amnesia and is a derivative of a Hebrew word for cinnamon tree - chosen to describe our Siberian Husky's unusual color.  Kezia and her brother Loki (named for the Norse god of mischief) were born January 30, 2003 and have been members of our family since weeks before then as we anticipated their arrival.

The Incident Thursday, August 4, 2011 ~ 8:30am

Halfway up the stairs, where they turn at a landing, Kezia cried out in pain and halted her ascent. She yelped again and again but eventually limped her way to the top. She stopped crying and laid down so after offering some comfort by way of pets and smooches, I left her alone hoping that The Incident was merely a brief moment of discomfort.

Serious
When Kezia attempted to walk, she held her back right leg above ground, awkwardly hopping on three good legs to avoid putting any weight on the fourth. I palpated her paw and ankle, flexed and extended her leg, hoping to discover the source of the pain, but Kezia never winced during these attempts. Through a concerned phone call, Gary and I agreed Kezia should see a veterinarian. Our usual vet is not nearby, so I clicked around online and discovered a walk-in clinic here in town.

I loaded up both dogs and packed a picnic for Madelyn and me, knowing a stop at the park afterward would make the excursion more enjoyable for all.  I was impressed with the walk-in vet clinic: no appointment necessary (or even accepted) and a very short wait.

Diagnosis
The doctor asked a few questions and then knelt to check out Kezia's leg. Within moments he elicited her yelp which immediately confirmed a diagnosis. Kezia had torn her Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) - an injury most common in serious athletes.  

Do you know where a dog's knee is? For all my education in human anatomy and physiology, I've never really thought about a dog's knee, which forms the rounded front of the hind legs.

The veterinarian performed the action in the right photo to determine that Kezia's tibia freely moved forward away from her femur--no longer held in place by the connective tissue between them.  You can see that if Kezia were to step on that foot, the tibia would slip right out from under the femur, causing collapse. He explained that knee injuries are very common in dogs because their knee joints are constantly flexed; there is always pressure on the knee. It would be like walking around in a half squat all day. 

This news was fairly shocking to me, as I suspected a minor twist or strain, not permanent physical damage. 

Prognosis

The only way to correct a torn ACL is through surgery. The veterinarian showed me the procedure on a tiny canine skeleton, but explained that he isn't comfortable performing it and recommended a highly skilled surgeon in Portland. When he awaited my response I said quietly, "It sounds expensive." Probably around two thousand dollars, he told me, and my chest tightened a little as I gazed at my poor puppy. 

I paid my bill for the visit and numbly took the sheet of paper with the referral hospital's information from the receptionist. I tried to remain calm and control my shallow breathing for Madelyn's sake as we climbed back into the Yukon. But when I called my husband at work to share the news, I couldn't hold back tears. In addition to the sadness of seeing my baby in pain, we are in the process of moving to a new house (including making some minor-but-still-costly renovations) and were set to leave on an exciting-but-unavoidably-expensive family vacation in just over one week. This unanticipated expense was surfacing at a very bad time. 

More Bad News

I called the clinic suggested by the vet. The surgeon would not be able to see us for a consultation until the following Friday. I was not interested in allowing Kezia to suffer for another week, plus that would be the day before our vacation departure so there would be no time to perform the operation before we left town. The receptionist gave me phone numbers for two other pet hospitals. Even though I'd already heard the estimate from the first vet, I decided to ask for a ball park figure for the surgery--just in case he was wrong. It turns out he was wrong.  Without an apologetic note in her voice, the receptionist delivered their price: $3,400 to $3,700. "And I think we're all about the same" she said, referring to the other phone numbers she'd provided. 

I hung up the phone in shock. I thought two grand was exorbitant; nearly double that was simply outrageous! Madelyn was getting restless in her carseat, so I started driving toward the park, piecing together all this information in an attempt to determine a solution to the puzzle. 

The Picnic

I wasn't really in the mood for a picnic anymore, but I knew Madelyn was still counting on it. Because we had the dogs with us, I decided on a whim to go to the playground that also has an off-leash dog park nearby. Kezia might not have much fun, but at least Loki could burn off some energy. As we pulled up to the playground, I told Madelyn we'd take the dogs to their park after our picnic. But Madelyn suggested we have our picnic in the dog area instead. Normally I'd insist we stick with my plan because it's kind of gross to eat in the dog park. Perhaps I wasn't of the mindset to explain right then and I think I found Madelyn's desire to share our picnic experience with Loki and Kezia endearing at that moment, so I turned around and we carried our adorable picnic basket through the double gates along with one fit and one disabled dog. 

The Stranger

There were two other dog owners in the park, possibly judging my parental aptitude for allowing a child to dine amid feces and urine but I didn't care. There is a picnic table, sheesh. The young woman sitting there said kindly, "Do you know your dog is limping?"

I nearly lashed out screaming at her that of COURSE I know my dog is limping do you think I am some kind of IDIOT she is literally walking on three legs it's not like I am BLIND what kind of heartless IMBECILE do you think I am?!? But I resisted and simply replied that yes, we had just come from the vet. And then sniffled. 

I'm sure I already looked quite dejected, and then I called Gary with the Bad News described above. Thirty-seven hundred dollars. More tears. Especially when Gary reluctantly brought up Kezia's relative age and life expectancy. I mean, I completely understand the humanity of putting down a dog that is deteriorating--dying. If there isn't quality of life left to be lived, then euthanasia can be a loving option. But an injury with an available solution is not the same, and the idea of putting Kezia to sleep felt to me simply like murder.

I finally sat, wiping tears, adjacent to the young woman who also had two dogs with her. Her Golden Retrievers were lying panting in the shade under the table, and the white hairs freckling their faces told me they were probably older than my own dogs. She inquired--about the tears, the limping dog--and I told her Kezia had torn her ACL and it will cost over $3,500 to fix it and we don't know what we're going to do. 

This girl shared that one of her dogs had a tumor removed a few years ago. She was told the surgery would cost $2,000 but a vet in Astoria removed it for $500. Before leaving, she expressed her well wishes and I memorized the name of the veterinarian and his clinic in Astoria. That is 90 minutes away from home, but it would be worth it if the surgery could be done for a fourth of the anticipated cost! Using that math, maybe we could make Kezia better for around $800 instead. I left the dog park with hope.

Research

I Googled Columbia Veterinary Hospital and found the recommended Dr. Goza in Astoria. But each time I tried calling the line was busy or they were closed for lunch. Meanwhile I called my mom and my closest friend for some sympathy. Barb recommended a local vet, which led me to another series of phone calls. Throughout the day I researched torn canine ACL and the surgical options on the web and youtube, periodically shedding a few more tears. Madelyn didn't like it when I cried. Each time, she pulled out a blank birthday card from a box in my office, colored in it, and gave it to me to help me feel better. 

When Gary got home from work we discussed everything I'd learned: one vet was out of town, one recommended waiting until after our vacation to do the surgery, none would give me an estimate on the cost because "it depends on a lot of factors." I realized then that I still hadn't reached the clinic in Astoria. It was after 5pm, but I decided to try again in case they were still open. 

Finally, Good News

Dr. Goza at Columbia Veterinary Hospital could see Kezia the next morning and perform the surgery that evening. Since we live out of the area (and I had to return to Aloha for our big remodeling project at Curves scheduled that weekend) we were invited to leave her overnight. We got a ball park figure here: three to five hundred dollars! I find this difference mind-boggling! And we were finally filled with relief that we could help Kezia without severe financial burden.

Columbia Veterinary Hospital

Madelyn, Kezia, and I left Friday morning and drove an hour and a half to Astoria. The clinic was dim and not especially clean. The building caused faint memories of summer camp mess halls and health clinics to surface. None of the staff members wore scrubs or a uniform of any kind. They all--including the doctor himself--sported jeans and ill-fitting tops that appeared to have been purchased in the nineties. Dr. Goza reminded me so much of an actor I couldn't place. Thanks to IMDb, I later determined it is Spalding Gray, an obscure memory indeed, as I've only ever seen him in Beaches many years ago. But he also looked a little like "Doc" from Back to the Future--sort of a mad scientist vibe. 

I didn't take any pictures of Dr. Goza myself, but here is one I borrowed from this nice tribute to him. 

Dr. Goza was friendly, yet to-the-point. His objective was to make my dog better and he knew how to do that.  After telling me nonchalantly that the operation would cost $300, he offered an unsolicited explanation for the hospitals in Portland charging $4000 because "if you can't pay it, someone else can." He went on to say that in a small town, he simply can't watch all the dogs limping around. I kissed Kezia goodbye, he led her into the back, and that was that. 

Post-Op

After another 90-minute drive the next morning, Madelyn and I greeted Kezia back at the clinic. Her leg was shaved and 18 stainless-steel sutures lined the 5-inch incision along her knee. She was a little out of it and drooly because of the pain medication. Dr. Goza said that the surgery went perfectly. Kezia's Cruciate Ligament was completely severed, but her knee was the perfect surgical candidate. He commended us for bringing her in right away and complimented Kezia's overall physical condition, which benefits the surgical outcome and her recovery. 

After thanking Dr. Goza, I slowly led my hopping dog to the front desk to pay. There, she got a lot of sympathetic looks and comments from other waiting pet owners.  With Kezia's two prescriptions in hand, I started writing the check. "Three hundred dollars" the receptionist said. I reminded her that I also had two bottles of pills. "Yep, three hundred dollars."

Incredible. ACL surgery, pain meds, and antibiotics for $300. It was already such a good deal, I would not have balked at an additional cost for the pills. I should mention that Dr. Goza performed a different procedure than the one we would have likely paid for in Portland. I read all about the newfangled surgery called TPLO (Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy) but Dr. Goza said 75% of vets still do what he does and it is nearly as effective for a much nicer price tag. 

The morning after surgery

Close-up of incision

Sleepless Night

The first night at home was tough--Kezia seemed to be in a lot of pain and let us know it. I eventually slept on the floor with Kezia, mainly in an effort to facilitate a better night for Gary so he could be rested for work. I discovered that when Kezia starting whining I could help her calm down if I was close. Also, a few times in the night she struggled to get up, then walked around aimlessly. Since she couldn't easily go downstairs to the dog door, I put her on leash and took her out the front door a few times, although often she would stand there without relieving herself. It was confusing and frustrating not knowing how to help, not wanting a mess on the carpet inside, wanting her to be comfortable, but also yearning desperately for sleep. It was much like having a newborn baby. Thankfully, after the first night she didn't seem to be in as much pain. 

20 Days

As I mentioned, we took a vacation a week after Kezia's surgery. She and Loki boarded in a kennel operated by a friend of mine on her farm. I was glad to be leaving Kezia with someone I knew personally in her condition. While we were gone Kezia did a lot of healing and she is now lightly putting her foot down when she walks much of the time. The fur is growing back on her leg. We are so relieved with the outcome of what began as a very emotional day. 

August 25, 2011 - 20 days post-op

Close-up of incision

In Conclusion

I feel like this outcome was somewhat miraculous. I never would have known about Dr. Goza had it not been for the kind stranger who felt compelled to start a conversation and share with me. Had I responded rudely when she asked about Kezia's limp, she may not have done so. Had we eaten our picnic at the playground first, she might have been gone before we arrived. We so rarely go to that dog park anyway, it was an amazing coincidence to be there at all. I want so badly to thank this young woman and tell her it all worked out wonderfully, because of her. As for the vet who referred me to the expensive surgeon, I'll probably bring Kezia there next week to have her sutures removed, and I plan to explain our story and urge him to let patients know about other, more affordable options. 

Snowy sunset

EDIT: My husband just informed me that these pictures are of our sunRISE not sunset. Me: "Are you sure?" Him: Yeah, the sun doesn't set in the east. Me: Whatever, jerk. Just kidding. But he is totally right, I took these pictures around 7am. I am an idiot. The pictures are still nice though.

I forgot I had these neat pictures on my camera to share with you.  The first snow of winter dusted our neighborhood last Tuesday, and I captured this beautiful pink, orange, and purple sunset behind the white rooftops.

It would look much prettier without that giant lamppost mucking it up right in the middle. 

So here is a close-up. You can click on the photos to enlarge them and see how bright the colors are. 

Hm. Sorry for the lame excuse of a post today. I need to buckle down and get to work though, so this is what you get on Day 29. 

Grilled cheesy adventure

Laaaast Christmas I bought one of those "half price deals" from a radio station website and put it in my husband's stocking. The gift certificate was for a restaurant called The Grilled Cheese Grill, which I had never heard of. But it sounded right up our alley because a) we love grilled cheese sandwiches and the ad implied that this place expands the culinary delight to new heights, b) they are open very late, and the idea of a midnight run for grilled cheese is the kind of thing that we would have totally done back before we had a child sleeping, and c) the restaurant is in a bus. Yeah.

The problem is, The Grilled Cheese Grill is located far on the other side of town where we rarely have business, too far to reasonably drive just to get a grilled cheese sandwich, even if it is served in a school bus.

Fast forward to thiiiiiis year, when I was contemplating how to celebrate Gary's birthday. We tend to honor birthdays by doing something more often than giving something.  My friend Sarah gave me the idea to check out Ape Cave, and while researching, I figured out that The Grilled Cheese Grill is only a few blocks off the path to get there. It was the perfect excuse to use the gift certificate and try a fun, new place for a special birthday lunch. And the best part is, I discovered that the certificate I had purchased was going to expire at the end of the month, so the timing could not have been better!

As we walked along the sidewalk in Northeast Portland toward our surprise destination, we encountered this:

In case it isn't clear, that is a wooden utility pole covered with a four-inch layer of damp flyers.  They had been partially torn off to provide this stunning cross-section of so many lost kitties, grunge band performances, and bikes for sale. I love this picture. 

The Grilled Cheese Grill was everything I had hoped for and then some. The concept of a mostly-outdoor restaurant doesn't usually swoon me in early November, but at least it wasn't raining. 

In addition to the outdoor picnic tables, this old school bus had been converted into a dining area as well.  The entire ceiling is painted with a semi-frightening mural the title of which might be "Otto's acid trip."  We found ourselves fielding questions like, "Mommy, why doesn't that cat have a head?" and "Ha ha! That skeleton is wearing pants!"

While we waited for our sandwiches to be grilled, Madelyn played bus driver. She is wearing those hideous silver sparkly shoes. We hate them, she loves them. What are you gonna do?

And then. And THEN. Our glorious grilled cheese sandwiches were served. Mine was called the BABS: bacon, apples, bleu cheese, and swiss on rye.  This taste sensation might be enough to make me say OMG, if only I were not fundamentally opposed to uttering that abomination. I will say that it was so yummy that tomato soup dipping was unnecessary. Gary got The Pops with ham, tomato, havarti, and honey mustard on Dave's Killer Cracked Wheat. We wanted to get the requisite tomato soup of course, plus a kids' grilled cheese for Madelyn. A la carte, this would have cost $21.75 (actually not a bad deal for a 3-person lunch). But they have this cleverly titled special called  Fromage a Trois where you get three sandwiches ("one for me, one for you, one to split") plus two soups or two chips for $17.50. So instead of the kids' sandwich, we got The Gabby, which features four cheeses, to share with Madelyn. Our gift certificate was a $20 value, and of course they don't give change, so the $1.75 charge to add ham to Gary's choice brought us up to $19.25--perfect!

The food was delicious and the concept so unique and fun that we'd consider driving all the way over there. Just for a Grilled Cheese Grill grilled cheese sandwich. Because I still really want to try The Jalapeño Popper and The Hot Brie. Plus--and this is a BIG plus--they also have sweet grilled cheese sandwiches.  Various combinations of brie, Nutella, marscarpone, bananas,and peanut butter grilled between cinnamon swirl or white bread. You can even add bacon to create The Fat Elvis. Yes, we will definitely need to venture out to The Grilled Cheese Grill again. 

At last!

I have my husband to thank for providing the material for today's post.  Gary came home last night very excited to show me the "blog-worthy" picture he took at the grocery store.  How thoughtful, and on Day 18 of Nablopomo, his assistance is most welcome. 

Reeeally, Campbell's? 'Spose I should throw out the 3 cans of Spaghetti-O's that are hanging out in my pantry now, since they are clearly UNhealthy. I just love marketing campaigns and food labeling that unmistakably emphasize a product's former inferiority. Just yesterday afternoon, several hours before Gary brought me this beauty, I reached for a box of tea packets at my friend's house which boasted "Improved Taste!" I chuckled under my breath, but never mentioned it to Gary, so you can see how we truly have a profound mystical understanding. Thanks, Gary. It's nice that my blog can be a team effort. 

I know you've seen them too. Won't you please share some of the marketing delights you've noticed which tend to have the opposite of the desired effect on your interest in the product?

Montessori Morning

While many preschools and elementary schools require a minimum number of parent volunteer hours, Madelyn's Montessori school is quite the opposite. Parents are not even allowed to volunteer in the classroom; maintaining the learning environment cultivated by Dr. Maria Montessori being the ultimate goal. We are, however, encouraged to sign up for classroom observation appointments beginning the fourth week of the school year. I have one good friend whose decision to send her daughter to a different preschool was influenced in part by the idea that she would not be able to visit the classroom to see how her child was managing in those early weeks. I can certainly relate to that uneasiness, but I also believe that protecting the students' environment while it is still being created is a worthwhile endeavor.

It brings me great joy to observe Madelyn in her world at school. Parents are offered a clipboard to jot notes/questions and asked to sit in any of three different chairs around the rooms. The students understand that visitors are only watching, and remarkably, they ignore the intrusion to a degree that allows a parent to get a true sense of how the classroom functions in her absence.  What follows is a summary of my 30 minutes in Mr. Tarnowski's Primary classroom this morning.

After placing her own coat on a hanger, Madelyn breezes past me with a hint of a smile, acknowledging that school is to continue as usual. She walks around the circle of students already seated and extends her hand to Mr. Tarnowski, patiently waiting for him to break momentarily from the story he is sharing. He looks her in the eye, shakes her hand, and greets her.

Madelyn sits on a section of the blue line away from other students. I wonder to myself whether she has particular friends by whom she likes to sit. At the end of Mr. Tarnowski's story, music begins, and without a word of instruction, the children stand and begin to sing along and act out the motions of the song. A new song follows, and with one short stanza of introduction, the students begin to sing. Very enthusiastically, I notice, and even Madelyn is singing the words, and following the blue line around in a circle as they mimic riding a pony that is walking, trotting, and then galloping.  Even though the twenty-plus students here today are between 2.5 and 6 years old, and they each choose a different pace for their "pony's" gait, there is no pushing or impatience in the circle.

When the music stops, every child sits down quietly. Still the teacher has issued no commands, but quietly watches or sings and gallops along.  He joins them on the blue line and booms a friendly "Good morning!" to which he receives a boisterous echo from the class. After a reminder about how to breathe as if the lungs are divided into three parts, the children take several long, deep breaths along Mr. Tarnowski--filling the upper, middle, then lower lungs and exhaling in the same fashion. One little girl rises to squirt some hand sanitizer, then returns to her seat. A very young student is kindly guided back to his space by Mrs. Tarnowski. The atmosphere is serene and peaceful. These students behave maturely as a result understanding and respect, not fear.

Yesterday's unfinished work is handed out to a few students. Mr. Tarnowski advises a couple of older girls (probably age 5) to go select an age-appropriate job in either language or math.  He then calls names one by one to join Mrs. Parker in Practical Life for a new lesson. I notice the students filing out are some of the youngest.  He asks Madelyn to bring him the farm animals job, and the remaining students gather around him for a lesson which involves reading the names of the animals. First they same the name of the toy plastic animal as he sets each one on the carpet. Next he shows them a small card with an animal's name written on the front, and they work together to sound out the letters and read the word. Everyone participates, and Mr. Tarnowski corrects by using phrases such as "It's important to look at the first letter in a word. What does "pig" begin with?" And when the children respond with "puh," they look again at the word he is holding and say, "dog!"  He also reviews new sounds like "sh" and "ee" in sheep.

When she is excused to return the farm animal basket to its shelf and find her own work, Madelyn heads straight for the painting easel. She clips a paper to it, puts on her apron, then asks Mrs. Parker to write her name on the paper. "Madelyn" is written in small dashed letters, which Madelyn traces herself with a pencil before creating a bright orange masterpiece. While she paints, I notice Madelyn's cousin Jack working on a job with dried beans and two wooden bowls. Another child is using an eye dropper and blue liquid in a cup. Two students are enjoying a snack: juice they poured and crackers they counted out themselves.  Mrs. Parker returns to help Madelyn hang her painting to dry, then Madelyn washes the easel with a sponge, folds the apron and returns it to a shelf before finding her next job.

I follow Madelyn back into the other room. An older student has asked Mr. Tarnowski to check her work, and Madelyn watches him play a little game asking her to read the words on some cards. As she sees the letters and hears the words, I know reading skills are developing. When that game is finished, Madelyn chooses a job from the shelf and asks her teacher for a lesson. She unrolls a small rug on the floor to designate her work space and they sit together. Another boy has finished his previous task and joins them because he is interested. Mr. Tarnowski and Madelyn begin to lay out the series of small paper clocks for a lesson about time.

There is laughter and chatting, these are normal children. But the environment is orderly and peaceful. Two students work together on a puzzle.  An older child compliments a younger one on his letter-tracing. Mrs. Tarnowski notices that the paper with pre-printed dashed letters is upside down, so she gently turns it and suggests in a friendly tone, "sometimes it works better this direction." The culture cultivates respect. When one student inadvertently walked across another's rug (her designated workspace), Mr. Tarnowski reminded her, "I don't believe it's polite to walk on someone else's rug, but I do believe it's polite to walk around it," and the child returned and walked around the appropriate way.

As much as I value the time I have to work uninterrupted while Madelyn is at school, the few times that I have scheduled an observation I have felt a desire to just stay and watch the rest of the morning. I find the interactions between children and with teachers very intriguing, and it is a rare pleasure to watch Madelyn conduct herself freely in a realm that belongs to her, not to me.

Madelyn and Mike Tarnowski ~ Spring 2010

Warrior Dash

Running is good exercise, and I enjoy the challenge of working toward goals for distance and pace. But running does not come easily to my body, and I can't honestly say that I just love running for the pure thrill of it. What I have discovered that I do love enthusiastically is the Adventure Race.  I happened upon the concept last summer when I ran the Tillamook Burn with my friend Sarah. It was love at first knee-deep river crossing.  I vowed to register for as many X-Dog Events (the organizer) as I could manage the following summer. Unfortunately, the timing didn't work out for any of the other events this year except the Tillamook Burn, so I only got to reprise that one awesome course (and the pre-race festivities and camp out the night before!). 

I was disappointed not to have done more of these adventure runs in the summer, so when I saw an ad for the Warrior Dash, I clicked over to their website and could hardly believe my eyes.  I was stoked about this race because it was heavy with obstacles, which is my favorite part of any non-street race.  This event was in September, and I wasn't blogging back then, but it isn't really distant enough history to be considered a "flashback." It's just a late submission. 

My very good friend Barb came all the way out to the Warrior Dash wilderness to cheer me on and take some pictures. I thought the gesture was especially generous when she still decided to come even after I informed her that it cost $10 to park (Seriously, ten bucks! And that is in addition to paying over $50 for the race itself. Sheesh.)

I had a bit of an adventure just getting to the place. First of all, my brain messed up directionally, and I took a wrong turn which forced me to double-back on the freeway, wasting precious time. Then, as I entered North Plains, I remembered about the parking fee, and realized that I did not have any cash. So I pulled into McDonald's, but they did not have an ATM (how is that possible?).  I drove across the street to a gas station. Their ATM was out of service. You've got to be kidding me. I was already short on time.  One more gas station over and I found the cash machine.  To top it off, the traffic entering the event was very thick (and could only have gotten worse as the day went on, as this event was organized into waves of runners starting every 30 minutes). So I arrived later than I wanted to, had to rush across the field of cars, get my race bib and timing chip, and check my backpack. I jogged over to the starting line just as my wave was beginning. I was the last one to start, in fact. 

I happen to love this pre-race photo because not only do I look all clean and happy before starting, but there is also a mega-line of Honey Buckets behind me. It's a perfect scene. 

Being the last to start was a huge bummer, because the trails were very narrow at the beginning, so we were forced to walk.  Very quickly I decided not to accept the congestion as a blockade, but to treat it as the first obstacle.  I proceeded to excuse myself as I weaved around the mostly stationary lines of people in running shorts and costumes.  This wasn't a checkout line, fairness did not have to be observed. 

Sorry the picture is so tiny, I pilfered it from the event photographer's website. 

The "Deadweight Drifter" was one of my favorite obstacles. As you can see, it was very crowded when I reached it, but I took the outside track and was able to make some headway. Floating in the waist- to chest-deep water was a series of large logs over which we had to clamber. My approach was a dive/slither over the top, which proved much faster than the leg-over style I saw others attempting. 

Another obstacle called "Blackout" doesn't look like much from the outside (I am exiting it above) but it was a long, pitch-black tunnel requiring hands-and-knees tactics.  At least the tunnel felt very long--once again, packed in there nose-to-ass with at least a dozen other people made for slow going. But it was inside the tunnel where I felt a sense of camaraderie with the other racers. Not only because my face touched a strangers butt more than once (it was impossible to see, remember), but because people cracked (no pun intended) jokes about the situation and we all laughed together.  

Most of the obstacles back in the woods had no photographer to capture their essence. Some of the more interesting ones include the "Junkyard Jump" in which we scramble over rusted car wreckage (it appeared that they had removed all shards of glass and sharp, twisted metal), two different cargo rope climbs--one at a vertical angle and one horizontal, and "Knee-high Hell," a web of tires on the ground that I mostly walked through because it was just before the end. Also, the muddy hills themselves were so steep that they were among the toughest obstacles.  

The "Warrior Roast" fire hurdles are possibly the most famous part of the dash, or possibly the final mud crawl. 

The mud was so thick, it definitely impeded forward momentum near the finish line.  

I just had to include this picture of my friend Bridget trying to daintily navigate under the barbed wire for the least amount of mud coverage she could manage, while her husband in front of her dove completely under. So great!

Here is my little posse of friends after everyone finished: Blair, Bridget, Jeremy, and my (Blair's wife also came and took pictures, hooray!)

All done, and all muddy. The course was about 3.3 miles. I can normally race that distance on the road in under 30 minutes. Because I was forced to walk part of the first mile, could not physically manage more than a walk on some of the lung-busting climbs, had to slow for execution of about a dozen obstacles, and genuinely did feel exhausted for the last half mile or so, I estimated that I was probably on the course for over 45 minutes. So imagine my surprise when Barb told me that the next wave (which my friends were running) had only started a few minutes before I crossed the finish line. I could not really fathom this to be accurate. 

But it was true. My official time was 32:17.45, or an average of 9:52 per mile. That isn't really very fast, but considering all the stops and walking, I was quite surprised. This pace earned me a spot in the top 100 females in my age group that day: 97th out of 602.  It's a respectable place, for me. 

There was a pond of brown water down the hill where we were allowed to "bathe" off the mud. It was kind of a social experience as well, with everyone laughing and splashing and swimming, grateful that the hard part was finished, but not yet ready to say it was over. 

Some cute guys parked next to me asked if I wanted my picture taken, which I thought was really nice of them! Of course I made a joke that I'd assumed they wanted to take one on their camera, har har. I think I resemble a frog in this picture, however. 

Warrior Dash was an incredibly fun experience, and I am especially glad that I got to share it with some cool friends.