Cyber-tag

All the fun of the classic children's game, without the pesky social interaction and exercise! I've been tagged by Bridget, so here goes:

FOUR RANDOM THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY HUSBAND:
1. He can be adorably goofy
2. He does approximately 90% of the housework
3. He loves to read stories to our daughter
4. He puts up with ME

FOUR JOBS I'VE HAD:
1. Foodserver at Stanford's
2. Foodserver at Monteaux's
3. Curves Owner
4. Mother

FOUR MOVIES I'VE WATCHED MORE THAN ONCE:
1. The Cutting Edge
2. Fried Green Tomatoes
3. The Shawshank Redemption
4. Waiting for Guffman

FOUR TV SHOWS I WATCH:
1. The Simpsons
2. The Office
3. So You Think You Can Dance?
4. South Park

FOUR PEOPLE WHO EMAIL ME REGULARLY:
1. My mom
2. Karen D
3. Melinda M
4. Linda T

FOUR OF MY FAVORITE FOODS:
1. Cheese (most varieties)
2. Peaches
3. Avocados
4. Chocolate Chip Cookies (recently the "Panookie" at a local restaurant which is an amazing fresh baked cookie-in-a-pan. Mmmm)

FOUR PLACES I WOULD LIKE TO VISIT:
1. Australia
2. Fiji
3. Aspen, CO
4. Alaska (this time on a road trip instead of a cruise)

FOUR THINGS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO IN THE COMING YEAR:
1. Following Madelyn's cognitive development
2. Camping with Wiyaka, DJ, and Lilly
3. The new Winkel Family Christmas Box tradition
4. Embarking on some new life adventures

FOUR PEOPLE I TAG:
1. Julee (something to take your mind off the morning sickness, and an excuse to put something on your blog!)
2. Sarah E
3. Wiyaka
4. Jeni

When people email me surveys like this, I never do them. So I will completely understand if you don't want to play.

Also, in an attempt to redeem myself from the pathetic single post in October, I have semi-accepted* Bridget's challenge to join on the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) bandwagon. So I'll be attempting a daily blog in November.

*so if I fail miserably I can pretend I wasn't really committed

Sub-zenith run

We did it! WE RAN (at) THE PORTLAND MARATHON!

That would be my major damage with completing our "big 5-mile run" goal in conjunction with the Portland Marathon. It was difficult to be as proud of our accomplishment as we deserved to be when our feat was significantly overshadowed by those who ran more than five times the distance. I felt kind of like the freshman at Senior Prom. Margie and I got to take advantage of the endless spread of free food and product samples at the finish line, all of which I couldn't help but feel was a bit ill-gotten. And whenever I use my Marathon-logo tote bag I feel a bit naughty, and like I should scrawl over it with my Sharpie: "only ran the 5-miler."

Margie and Kristen near the 5-mile (and 26.2 mile) Finish Line
near Portland's Waterfront 10/4/08

Don't get me wrong, I am really excited that we did what we set out to do...and after only 8 weeks of running. I was 100% faithful to my training plan, incorporating the specified run lengths between Curves workouts and other activities to keep me exercising 6 days per week. Since this run on October 4, I've had a hard time getting back into that groove, between being on vacation and then catching up from being on vacation. So my body feels pretty rotten right now, and I'm looking forward to returning to that place where exercise is a non-negotiable part of my daily routine.

The whole experience was pretty great, actually. It was a perfect day: cool and cloudy, and only started drizzling toward the end of our race. Margie and I are amazed at our luck with the weather. The very first time we ran together was through a downpour. But since then, during 8 weeks of training, we have not ran in rain once. That doesn't mean it hasn't rained around here for 8 weeks (hello, we live in NW Oregon), but that on rainy days the clouds simply parted when we were ready to hit the pavement.

I ran my usual pace (10:07) and finished with a decent beginner's time (50:35). It certainly was not a breeze for me--not even close. I approached that finish line with burning thighs and a tedious sideache, thrilled that it would be over very, very soon. Want to know the rest of my sweet stats? Overall: placed 538 out of 1255 people who ran the 5-mile race. Among women: 246 out of 814. Age group: 52 out of 115 females age 25-29, right smack in the middle.

The best part was the rest of our relaxing morning downtown. We drove up to Northwest Portland for breakfast, and in addition to some artisan crepes, I savored the most rich, delectable mocha I have ever experienced. It was magical. Then I was delighted to find a little Asian nail salon that happened to be open on Sunday, and had myself what could be the best cheap pedicure ever, too! What a lucky day. Normally these types of places have names like Nail4U or Best Star Nail and feature bright flourescent lighting and the calming sound of Maury Povich from an overhead TV. But this place was serene, the tech unwrapped brand new tools for me as she worked, and the piece de resistance: a hot wet towel for my neck. After running a race in the rain, this was Heaven. It rivaled the day spa experience, for the chop shop price.

Now it's time to pick the next race so we have an imminent event to motivate our workouts. Thanks to all my loyal supporters (including you girls who ran the big PM and never left me feeling a diminished sense of worthiness)!

Did you miss me?

I cannot believe that it has been over a month since I have contributed to my own blog. I was out of town for ten days, and greeting me upon my return was an unusually large and stressful Mountain of Urgency. While chipping my way through the to-do list (its nature to acquire new tasks more quickly than the old are checked off), I not only found myself having to choose between blogging and sleep, but also in the throes of dis-inspiration.

Maybe it's just the extra strain on my psyche, but I am struggling to form ideas into coherent sentences fit for entertainment or enlightenment. And if not for one or the other (or both), then what is the use in writing?

One roadblock I had in starting this blog in the first place was determining its "voice." What did I want to say, or not say, in such a forum? What tone should the writing take and how important would it be to maintain it for continuity? Who will comprise my audience and to what extent should I care about what they think?

Some of the subjects that I want to write passionately about are of the controversial variety. As a business owner, maintaining political and religious ambiguity is a necessary and delicate art. I would like to believe that true friends could respect differences of opinion. But I have too few true friends to risk offending the remaining friendly acquaintances who might discover the unveiling of my oft non-mainstream views.

There is one type of blog I did not want to emulate. So as not to offend anyone, you can check out this uber hilaralicious parody called seriously so blessed. Just be careful that you don't lol too hard or you might P your cute li'l panties. Now, I would be happy to have thought of that particular website (cha-ching), but the real-live fairy-tale-land brag-fests like that make me want to hurl my cookies, if you know what I mean. I don't wish to add 'strained eye-rolling muscles' to the list of crap that happens in my real life by reading about your perfect one. There are websites that I do admire, and I had fleeting visions of making a very healthy living and taking exotic trips courtesy of banner advertising, until I realized that I'm just not that talented nor interesting.

So I accept that my blog will simply be something fun for me and maybe a handful of amigos, yet at times I still feel paralyzed with self-doubt, if not just plain Writer's Block. I have a list of topics to formulate into posts, and I expect that one by one they will take life. So I hope you keep checking back, in case I come up with anything worthy of a big fat paycheck from Google. (I'll need you to tell them about it.)

Must have music

As my training runs increased in length, I realized that it wouldn't do for me to listen to the incessant sound of my nostrils whooshing. I needed music in a bad way, so I made a date with my good friend eBay and scored myself a nice little iPod. I might be the last person on the planet to have purchased one, but that's the way I operate. When CDs started making their debut, I recall distinctly thinking that they were frivolous when I could listen to all my music on a cassette just fine--with the ability to record it right from the radio to boot! (as long as you don't mind a bit of DJ chatter at the beginning and end of every song on your mix tape, it's totally rad.) I also didn't see Titanic in the theatre, and have yet to create a social networking profile the likes of MyBook or FaceSpace or whatever. So you could say I'm a little slow to react when it comes to trends.

The day after my iPod arrived was to be our longest run yet: 4 miles, so I set to work uploading CDs into iTunes. I am a highly organized individual, and I can't stand the thought of just importing entire albums when I might only listen to a handful of songs from each. I don't want my shuffle setting to be an unending skip session--that would be no better than listening to the radio. So I am painstakingly going through each disc and selecting the songs that are worthy of my playlists. I use the present tense because the process is less than half finished. I don't know all the titles of songs I like, so I have to listen to snippets of some before deciding. On top of this I need to create a playlist just for running: songs with a tempo to keep me moving fast when I just want to lie down.

Since I had informed her that I finally jumped on the bandwagon, Margie brought her iPod for the first time too. But when I turned mine on I realized...I had uploaded a bunch of CDs, but had forgotten to sync the player with my computer. So the only music I had on my iPod was a test song I had downloaded compliments of Starbuck's pick of the week. In my humble opinion it sounded like the music I normally hear blasting from the boombox outside a house being framed by a group of Latin-American gentleman. In case you don't walk by construction sites often, it could be the same music playing over the speakers in your favorite authentic Mexican Restaurant. So that wasn't going to happen. I put my iPod back in the car, but told Margie she should still use hers, it was no big deal.

That was a naive statement to make, because that was a horrible run for me. I think Margie was in the zone with her music, and I felt like I was dragging 50-pound weights on each leg. It was a tough run. Our next run was a shorter distance, but listening to music helped significantly. I felt great and finished the run strong. What a difference.

Yesterday I ran my first race since I was 19. It was a measley little 5k. And it really kicked my butt. I am pleased that I finished with about a 9 minute/mile pace, but I would have loved to quit only halfway through. This makes me quite nervous for the 5-mile race I'm supposed to run this Sunday. My friend Anne, an experienced runner, said that I just need to go slower. She also said that I'm supposed to feel that way during a 5k, because "if you run it right, you should feel like throwing up at the end." Hm. By that advice, I'd say I did mighty well indeed.

First half marathon

On Saturday I walked 13.1 miles at the Champoeg Half Marathon. For you out-of-towners, that is pronounced sham-POO-ie, and it is the name of a State Park here in Oregon.

As you know, I've been training to do some beginner running races in the coming weeks. I thought it would be fun to throw this fitness walking challenge into the mix too, mainly so I could take pride in covering a greater distance, I suppose. I wanted a companion, so I sent an email last month to a select group of friends who both a) were in good enough shape to keep up with me for the distance, and b) I could envision sharing a pleasant 4-hour conversation. The only person I was able to recruit was my friend and Curves employee Linda. Now, Linda is almost 60, but I knew she walked 91 miles the week of Relay for Life this year, in honor of her mother who died of cancer at age 91. And I happen to really enjoy Linda's company, so it emerged as a good match.

I haven't been specifically training for this event, since I've replaced most of my walking with running. I do still push MBW in the stroller through my very hilly neighborhood sometimes, but we don't usually cover more than 3 miles at a time. But come on, it's just walking, right?

Well, Linda and I did just fine, but the last few miles were pretty intense. My iliopsoas (front of hip joint) was the most sore, and my back and ankles started aching too. I never felt like I needed to stop or like I couldn't finish it, but was pushing myself through some mild discomfort.

Here are my three favorite stories from My First Half Marathon Ever:

1. The Thirsty Runner

Walkers embarked on the course an hour earlier than runners. So about an hour and a half in, we were being passed by runners. The race brochure promised 3 water stations along the course. After the 5th mile, we still hadn't seen one. Around a bend in the road, we started up a fairly steep hill. From just behind us came a young woman's grunt of agony. She yelled, "Where is the water?" as she jogged painfully past us up the hill. Several people in the vicinity agreed that a tasty drop would be presently welcome.

This woman, now about 15 feet ahead of us, exclaimed between breaths that she was dying of thirst. She seemed pretty miserable, and so I said, "You can have a drink of my water..." The woman pivoted on her heels without delay and jogged toward me, mouth agape like a shark closing in on its prey. But I didn't have a water bottle I could squirt in her mouth, I was wearing my Camelbak, which has a straw-like apparatus attached over my shoulder, and which requires complete oral closure and suction to extract the refreshing water from within.

So we fast-walked side-by-side while she awkwardly tried to position herself in a way to get her mouth on the straw and suckle a sip. I was contorting as well to provide assistance, and explaining the technique in case she wasn't familiar with Camelbak's unique valve. Within a few moments she was off and running again, surely better off for the hydration. I honestly can't remember right now if she thanked me, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt here and imagine that she did.

Linda and I continued walking, taking a few moments to contemplate what had just occurred. I broke the silence by stating my observation that she didn't even hesitate. Roles reversed, if I would consider taking a stranger's offer of water, I know I would say, "Really?! Are you sure you don't mind?" And then, once I discovered that it would be impossible to share the water without a significant exchange of mouth cooties, I might seriously reconsider, thanking the person for their offer without taking advantage of it. Her immediate voracity, turning to me with mouth open wide, made me chuckle all the way until we reached the top of the hill...where we encountered the first water station.

2. Satisfaction Denied

Since I haven't been training for this event, I really had no idea what our mile pace would be. I expected it would be under 15 minutes per mile for some reason, so when Linda checked our time past the 8-mile mark and we were at 2h 15m, I was a little bit disappointed. But I didn't feel like we were walking slowly; we were definitely not strolling. We had not passed any walkers the whole time, and although I knew there were at least a couple of people behind us, I was surprised that we were so far behind the rest of the walking pack.

When we starting gaining ground on a couple of walkers ahead of us, I was pleased. Although I wasn't in the race to win, it would be satisfying to know that we picked up our pace enough to get past someone who started ahead of us. As we approached the two ladies, I noticed they weren't walking very fast at all. As we closed in, it became apparent that one was hunched over a bit, and I realized they were both adorable little blue-hairs, just out for a leisurely morning stroll. These two weren't participants in our event at all, our walking paths just happened to cross. So I flipped them the bird as we blew past them and shouted "So long, suckers!"

Just kidding.

3. Default Ribbon

Talk about a fanfare-free finish. By the time Linda and I pulled into the home stretch, most people had eaten their celebratory Clif bar, stretched their quads, and headed home. As we walked through the finisher's chute at 3h 42m, a young girl unceremoniously handed me a couple of medals, assuming I could do the honor of presenting Linda with hers. I examined the label on the back of the medal as I walked, and just as I asked aloud, to no one in particular, "Why does it say, 'Vancouver Marine Park 2.5 mile--'", I was interrupted by the same young girl running purposefully toward me with a sticker for to place over the existing label, this one printed with the information for the event which we had actually just finished. Leftover medals. Nice.

The announcer was reading off the runners who had placed in each age group as Linda and I rested and stretched on the grass. There were maybe 20 people hanging around to listen. Then he moved on to the walkers, listing the overall winners plus 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place in each gendered age group. He read off the female winners for age 20-24. Then 30-34, followed by 35-39. He skipped age 25-29 completely! So after all the names were read and a couple of people emerged from the remaining "crowd" to claim their ribbon, I approached the table.

"You didn't read the winners for age 25-29," I said politely.

He looked at his papers and replied, "Oh, there wasn't anyone in that age group."

"I'm 27!" I said, with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. I just crossed the finish line 15 minutes ago, but it was looking like I won first place in my division.

As he was getting ready to hand me my blue ribbon, the last four walkers crossed the finish. No one had come in between Linda and me and these two pairs (which puts us at 6th from last place, woo-hoo!). The man hesitated handing me the ribbon, looking at the final finishers. He wanted to make sure none of them would be first place in my age group. Even though they were all coming in after me.

He said, "What about that girl...no, she's probably over 30." Really?!?!? I don't care if she's 29, but give her the second place ribbon. Clearly she did not beat my time since I am standing in front of you and she is just walking across the finish line! I finally pryed my prized ribbon from the announcer (not really) and laughed all the way back to the car thinking that I came in nearly last place overall but still brought home a blue ribbon.

Walking the Half Marathon was a great experience, and I would enjoy doing it again. Maybe one day I'll run it and get there before all the Clif bars are devoured. Thank you for joining me Linda!Notice the empty parking lot...

My book got published

My book is now a published best-seller! Unfortunately, I won't be getting any portion of the profits, because I did not write it.

In 2001, I had the idea to write this book:

My work-in-progress title was The Psychology of Dining Out: Observations of Social Customs and Quirks, plus 15 tips for getting the best service in fine restaurants. But truthfully, that was simply a fancy way of luring people to read my Waiter Rant! I believed too few people would actually want to read my jaded commentary on the human condition from the perspective of an apron-clad worker. Wish I hadn't doubted myself. The book got its humble beginnings from a sarcastic waiter's anonymous blog. I discovered Waiter Rant's existence for the first time listening to the author discuss it on an evening radio-show interview. I felt just slightly sick to my stomach, a specific emotion that was faintly familiar to me. Soon it dawned on me: I felt precisely the same way when my car was broken into and my stereo and CD collection stolen. So my brain likened the publishing of this book to a thievery of my imagination. Of course that isn't true, and when you snooze, you lose, right?

I didn't follow my idea far, but it was more than a fleeting thought. I scribbled my inspirations in a spiral notebook, including a pocket-sized version that I carried in my servers' apron to jot those hilarious and poignant moments that frequently punctuate a waiter's shift. Here are just a few of those gems that I scrawled before losing interest and allowing a smarter man to abduct my brainchild:

Say PLEASE. Servers are not exempt from civility.

Your food gets touched. By people's hands. Many of them.

Taste the fish before you ask for tartar sauce.

Don't request the dressing "on the side" if you don't want it at all. Just say "no dressing." We won't be offended, and you won't be wasteful.

Six of my favorite material possessions

In no particular order...

1. Marquis Spa hot tub

• incredible neck jets


• sunken in our second-story deck


• amazing after a night run


• perfect for star-gazing


• wonderful in rain and snow

2. Digital camera

• the one I recently bought is not as excellent as I'd hoped


• but in general, the digital camera as an invention, is supreme


• love to take lots and lots of pictures, with no regard for wasting film


• that's the only way to end up with a couple of good shots


• fits in my pocket; I hate carrying extraneous bags

3. Crock Pot

• cook anything while you work, sleep, run errands


• it's like a personal chef for a one-time cost of $40

4. Laptop

• let us just say that I spend many, many hours with this contraption

5. Samsung slider cell phone

• also a necessity for both work and personal life, rarely out of my vicinity


• this is the coolest phone design I've ever owned, and I'll demand a slide-up cell phone forever after

6. Baldwin upright piano

• this is the instrument on which I learned to play and grew up practicing my scales and arpeggios


• now I enjoy my own little karaoke sessions to the scores of Rent, Les Mis, and Miss Saigon

What are some of YOUR favorite things?