This week, I'd like to express my gratitude toward the many wonderful folks in my life. My life is full of good folks...so full sometimes that I feel I must have somehow gamed the system to get them (you) all. I don't always feel deserving of this immense amount of love. My life is a constant work in progress to be worthy of it. Thank you, all of you...you know who you are.
When you live in a society as individualistic as ours, it's easy to forget - even momentarily - just how valuable community is. But there are times that remind us that, at our very human core, we're all quite vulnerable without one another.
Two of the people killed in yesterday's shooting in Seattle were friends of friends - proof that this city really has become my home, that the world is small, and that anything can happen anytime to anyone. There aren't words to articulate the horror of it, and I won't try to do anyone's grief justice here - but the sense of love and compassion I've seen unfold in our local community in the aftermath of yesterday's tragedy has been nothing short of profound.
"As terrible as this event is, tucked inside this experience is a rare chance for this community to shine. We are stuck with the darkness in our lives, but we can shine (our) lights stronger and stronger until that darkness is more of a shadow." - Vivian McPeak, musician, activist and friend of the victims
Allow me to share one more quote, this one from the book I started reading yesterday: in Pericles' speech to the families of the Athenian war dead, he said, "What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."
As has already been seen in the past day and a half, it's obvious Drew and Joe wove themselves deep into the tapestry of Seattle's community - with their music, with their zest for life, with their love for those around them.
So, life is short.
Start weaving.
I am grateful to be a part of this community, too, even as we grapple with the aftermath of such violence. I try to remind myself that even on a day of utter tragedy like yesterday, the residual effects of which we'll be feeling for years to come...612,099 (roughly) people in the city of Seattle chose to live with each other in peace yesterday. Every one of us chose peace today.
This wasn't what I set out to write today. I wanted to write about other aspects of community, too: of Folklife, of Girls on the Run, of enduring friendships, of sharing trails with others, of the many wonderful hugs lately of which I've been the grateful recipient and which have kept me afloat through a challenging few months. I wanted to write about my friends who ran 200 miles on foot last weekend, and the sense of community, support and solidarity that allowed them to accomplish such an improbable feat. But now it doesn't all feel like the right addendum to this entry. So. Next time.
Rest in peace, Drew, Joe, Donald, Kimberly, and Gloria. Seattle loves you.
Showing posts with label urban living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label urban living. Show all posts
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Alternative spring break: Blood, sweat and tears
This week is spring break for Seattle Public Schools. It's also the week after REI's month-long Member Rewards Sale and the Seattle store's annual Running Shoe Expo. This all means I get a week off from coaching, and a little "calm after the storm" from the hectic past few weeks at work. Although I don't have the means to go anywhere special this spring, I am taking what advantage I can of the virtually endless menu of adventures within (the magic number, apparently!) 35 minutes of Seattle.
Mountain running with George
Yesterday, George and I spent the better part of the day exploring unmarked trails on Rattlesnake and Tiger Mountain (35-minute drive from Seattle). We were scoping out a way to connect the two mountains, in anticipation of an unofficial 100K that my running buddies are organizing next month. I won't be able to run the "race" itself day of, but I'm happy to tag along in the meantime for planning it. And what a great way to start a Monday morning - driving against rush hour to get to the mountains instead of the office.
On our way!
It was quite the adventure run. We had maps, fancy phone GPS and a rough idea of where we wanted to go - but wound up exploring hidden trails and bushwhacking a good deal more than planned. We climbed up to panoramic views of the valley, we pounded the descents, we marveled over hidden gems of trails, we splashed through mud and puddles, we told stories, we laughed. At some point, we found ourselves caught up in a horrible mess of nasty thorns and brambles, which lacerated the hell out of my bare legs. Ouchies! But we laughed about that, too.
We also pulled off a waist-deep river crossing in icy cold water - twice!
George's video of our Raging River crossing
A wonderful weekday adventure indeed. 4+ hours in the mountains, and we're already plotting out our recon mission to check out all the trail offshoots that we didn't get to fully explore, since evening work shifts beckoned us both back to Seattle.
Island biking with Mac
Today, I hopped on my bike in the morning for an epic day of human-powered exploration on Bainbridge Island (a 35-minute ferry ride from Seattle) with my friend Mac, who's born and raised on Bainbridge. He gave me the grandest of island tours, meeting me on bike at the ferry landing and taking me through town, from park to park, coastal roads to forested singletrack, hidden lakes to hidden beaches, killer climbs to heart-pounding downhills. What a BLAST. We skipped rocks on the water, ducked in to the public library, visited the community horticultural haven Bay Hay & Feed, rode by Mac's childhood home, and shared a delicious pizza at the Treehouse Cafe on the south of the island. Along the way, Mac regaled me with stories and a wealth of information about local history, traditions, animal and plant life, and prominent people who have lived on the island.
My wonderful tour guide leading the way through beautiful island forest.
Aside from one minor crash on my bike (marking the second time in two days that the outdoor world has gashed open some of my skin and drawn blood!), it was a lovely day. I rode the ferry back in peace, with jello legs and a contentedly full belly. Once the ferry docked, I geared up for my least favorite part of using my bike for transportation - riding it through downtown around rush hour.
Seattle: Drivers vs. Cyclists, Again
Most of the 15ish minute ride from the ferry landing back to my apartment went just fine, despite increasingly intense rain. Until. Until, until, until. The street I was riding on downtown had "sharrows" - meaning it's designated by the city of Seattle as a bike route, and is marked by a bike logo on the pavement to remind cars to be mindful of cyclists - but no designated bike lane. As I approached an intersection, the right lane in which the sharrows and I were turned into a right-turn only lane. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I could merge over to the going-straight lane, merged over, just as the light at the intersection turned yellow. I still had plenty of time and space to brake for the light, and came to a complete stop with no issue.
Several moments later, I heard screeching brakes behind me. I couldn't tell if they were bike or car brakes, but looked back just as a cyclist came to a screeching halt within an inch of me on my bike, and began screaming obscenities. For one second, I was terrified I'd somehow cut him off - but I quickly realized his wrath was not directed at me, and had everything to do with a van that had apparently nearly collided with him. I didn't see what happened, since it all unfolded behind me, but I imagine it had something to do with the weird lane merge (and poor visibility in general, due to the rain).
Anyway, the driver of the van immediately rolled down his window and said, "Man, I am SO sorry, I didn't see you." The cyclist didn't take this well, and went berserk. He started pounding on the side of the van, hitting it, kicking it, dropping F-bombs right and left, and screaming at the top of his lungs at the driver. The driver handled this remarkably well for a few more seconds, apologizing again and trying to make peace with the cyclist. The cyclist's anger only escalated at this point, as he screamed obscenities and yelled at the driver to get out of the van so he could "beat the shit" out of him. The driver asked, "Are you serious? Man, I SAID I'm sorry", to which the cyclist continued to scream and scream and scream. This is where the driver started to lose his cool, too. He got out of his van and started screaming back. The two of them continued in a screaming match - escalating rapidly from yelling about whether the cyclist was wearing enough flashers to be visible to screaming threats at each other - and I found myself praying silently that neither of them would pull a knife or gun on the other...they were both so, so angry. (Keep in mind, I was within three feet of these guys, with nowhere really to go until the light changed.) Words here can't begin to do justice to the level of rage these two had for each other.
It was not pleasant. Eventually, the light did change, and I pedaled so damn hard away from the whole scene. My heart was pounding. Something about the adrenaline of it all must have triggered something in my system, because as I arrived home safe and sound a few minutes later, I more or less had a panic attack and started bawling. I really can't handle rage; it terrifies me. Although I've had a number of good adventures over the past month (and that's most of what I prefer to share in the online realm), it's also been a difficult month for me, with a lot of emotional upheaval, loss, transition and overall uncertainty. (AND, the stress of more things going wrong with my car; it seems like these problems will never end. Sigh. Sidenote.) So, in some ways, the emotional release of adrenaline-charged crying felt good today.
In other ways, it all just makes me so sad for Seattle. That moment was such a sharp contrast with the quiet, rural roads and forested trails that Mac and I spent all day riding. There is a tremendous amount of animosity between drivers and cyclists in this city. I am both a driver and a cyclist, at different times, so I'm not on one "side" over the other. There are reckless drivers, and there are reckless cyclists; neither are acceptable, not when lives are at stake. Unfortunately, for the most part, the streets of Seattle are not designed to safely accommodate both; it bums me out that I live somewhere where safety is a reason not to ride my bike. But it is. I love my life. I love biking, too, but moments like this evening make me ask how much, and is it worth it?
Yesterday, George and I spent the better part of the day exploring unmarked trails on Rattlesnake and Tiger Mountain (35-minute drive from Seattle). We were scoping out a way to connect the two mountains, in anticipation of an unofficial 100K that my running buddies are organizing next month. I won't be able to run the "race" itself day of, but I'm happy to tag along in the meantime for planning it. And what a great way to start a Monday morning - driving against rush hour to get to the mountains instead of the office.
On our way!
It was quite the adventure run. We had maps, fancy phone GPS and a rough idea of where we wanted to go - but wound up exploring hidden trails and bushwhacking a good deal more than planned. We climbed up to panoramic views of the valley, we pounded the descents, we marveled over hidden gems of trails, we splashed through mud and puddles, we told stories, we laughed. At some point, we found ourselves caught up in a horrible mess of nasty thorns and brambles, which lacerated the hell out of my bare legs. Ouchies! But we laughed about that, too.
We also pulled off a waist-deep river crossing in icy cold water - twice!
George's video of our Raging River crossing
A wonderful weekday adventure indeed. 4+ hours in the mountains, and we're already plotting out our recon mission to check out all the trail offshoots that we didn't get to fully explore, since evening work shifts beckoned us both back to Seattle.
Today, I hopped on my bike in the morning for an epic day of human-powered exploration on Bainbridge Island (a 35-minute ferry ride from Seattle) with my friend Mac, who's born and raised on Bainbridge. He gave me the grandest of island tours, meeting me on bike at the ferry landing and taking me through town, from park to park, coastal roads to forested singletrack, hidden lakes to hidden beaches, killer climbs to heart-pounding downhills. What a BLAST. We skipped rocks on the water, ducked in to the public library, visited the community horticultural haven Bay Hay & Feed, rode by Mac's childhood home, and shared a delicious pizza at the Treehouse Cafe on the south of the island. Along the way, Mac regaled me with stories and a wealth of information about local history, traditions, animal and plant life, and prominent people who have lived on the island.
My wonderful tour guide leading the way through beautiful island forest.
Aside from one minor crash on my bike (marking the second time in two days that the outdoor world has gashed open some of my skin and drawn blood!), it was a lovely day. I rode the ferry back in peace, with jello legs and a contentedly full belly. Once the ferry docked, I geared up for my least favorite part of using my bike for transportation - riding it through downtown around rush hour.
Most of the 15ish minute ride from the ferry landing back to my apartment went just fine, despite increasingly intense rain. Until. Until, until, until. The street I was riding on downtown had "sharrows" - meaning it's designated by the city of Seattle as a bike route, and is marked by a bike logo on the pavement to remind cars to be mindful of cyclists - but no designated bike lane. As I approached an intersection, the right lane in which the sharrows and I were turned into a right-turn only lane. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I could merge over to the going-straight lane, merged over, just as the light at the intersection turned yellow. I still had plenty of time and space to brake for the light, and came to a complete stop with no issue.
Several moments later, I heard screeching brakes behind me. I couldn't tell if they were bike or car brakes, but looked back just as a cyclist came to a screeching halt within an inch of me on my bike, and began screaming obscenities. For one second, I was terrified I'd somehow cut him off - but I quickly realized his wrath was not directed at me, and had everything to do with a van that had apparently nearly collided with him. I didn't see what happened, since it all unfolded behind me, but I imagine it had something to do with the weird lane merge (and poor visibility in general, due to the rain).
Anyway, the driver of the van immediately rolled down his window and said, "Man, I am SO sorry, I didn't see you." The cyclist didn't take this well, and went berserk. He started pounding on the side of the van, hitting it, kicking it, dropping F-bombs right and left, and screaming at the top of his lungs at the driver. The driver handled this remarkably well for a few more seconds, apologizing again and trying to make peace with the cyclist. The cyclist's anger only escalated at this point, as he screamed obscenities and yelled at the driver to get out of the van so he could "beat the shit" out of him. The driver asked, "Are you serious? Man, I SAID I'm sorry", to which the cyclist continued to scream and scream and scream. This is where the driver started to lose his cool, too. He got out of his van and started screaming back. The two of them continued in a screaming match - escalating rapidly from yelling about whether the cyclist was wearing enough flashers to be visible to screaming threats at each other - and I found myself praying silently that neither of them would pull a knife or gun on the other...they were both so, so angry. (Keep in mind, I was within three feet of these guys, with nowhere really to go until the light changed.) Words here can't begin to do justice to the level of rage these two had for each other.
It was not pleasant. Eventually, the light did change, and I pedaled so damn hard away from the whole scene. My heart was pounding. Something about the adrenaline of it all must have triggered something in my system, because as I arrived home safe and sound a few minutes later, I more or less had a panic attack and started bawling. I really can't handle rage; it terrifies me. Although I've had a number of good adventures over the past month (and that's most of what I prefer to share in the online realm), it's also been a difficult month for me, with a lot of emotional upheaval, loss, transition and overall uncertainty. (AND, the stress of more things going wrong with my car; it seems like these problems will never end. Sigh. Sidenote.) So, in some ways, the emotional release of adrenaline-charged crying felt good today.
In other ways, it all just makes me so sad for Seattle. That moment was such a sharp contrast with the quiet, rural roads and forested trails that Mac and I spent all day riding. There is a tremendous amount of animosity between drivers and cyclists in this city. I am both a driver and a cyclist, at different times, so I'm not on one "side" over the other. There are reckless drivers, and there are reckless cyclists; neither are acceptable, not when lives are at stake. Unfortunately, for the most part, the streets of Seattle are not designed to safely accommodate both; it bums me out that I live somewhere where safety is a reason not to ride my bike. But it is. I love my life. I love biking, too, but moments like this evening make me ask how much, and is it worth it?
Friday, July 15, 2011
The times, they are a-changin'
Two weeks ago, Alan and I got a notice on our front door, announcing that our building had been procured by new owners. In 60 days, our rent would jump by over $500 a month. My mood about it, since then, has ranged from stress and anger (stage 1) to delirious amusement (stage 2) to a quiet, tentative sense of excitement (stage 3).
Stage 2 delirious amusement came in considering how NOT worth the new rental rate our building is. Yes, it's been a great place to settle into Seattle - walkable to everything from work to downtown to the stadiums to quaint neighborhood main drags to stunning views and urban parks, close access to highways to the mountains too, a quiet building with mostly good neighbors, etc.
But there are plenty of issues that we've tried to ignore for the last couple years. I won't go into detail here about them, but they're pretty 50/50 with the positives.
The new owners are not really landlords. They're a small investment company who renovate beat up, old buildings into fancy new apartments to make them far more profitable for owners. They don't really expect us to pay the new rent; they just want us out to do their renovations and help along our "rapidly gentrifying neighborhood." (Their phrasing, not mine.)
Learning that caused a brief plummet back into stage 1 (stress and anger), but it was shortly replaced by a leap into stage 3 (!) when I started cruising apartment listings. Although the market for renters is much tougher now than it was two years ago when we were last looking, we managed to land a new place within about a week and a half of initiating the search - and it's a great one!
And so stage 3 continues. Now that I know for sure where we are going, I feel like I'm at the beginning of a new relationship - giddy, distracted, and ultimately obsessed with the concept of something I really don't know at all...but will, very very soon. As I write this, I'm on my lunch break at work, chowing down over my keyboard so I can get some of my infatuated ramblings off my chest before plunging back into work.
We'll be moving to Queen Anne - the other major hill in Seattle that nuzzles downtown. The famous, so-called "Frasier view" is taken from Queen Anne. I took the following photo on my first run up the hill, nearly two years ago.
Hassles of moving week itself aside, we'll get to enjoy all the perks of moving without the hassle of having to find new jobs or new friends. Instead, we'll get to explore new cafes, new restaurants, new bookstores, new libraries, new ice cream shops, new running routes, new evening walks, new hidden public stairways and secret views...all the exciting aspects of going somewhere new!
We'll be in a nicer neighborhood overall, and finally have covered off-street parking! We'll have our very own balcony with beautiful views of the Seattle skyline, Mt. Rainier, Lake Union and the Cascade mountains. We'll have enough space to not need a separate storage unit anymore. And all for about the same price we pay now!
Clearly, we should have made this move a long time ago.
In the meantime, as with all goodbyes - however small - I have lists of things I will miss about our current home...lists of things I still haven't ever gotten around to doing in our neighborhood, that are imperative to do before moving next month. Funny how a deadline sometimes is all the push you need to grant yourself the experiences you've been thinking about, if not dreaming of. Nostalgic list entry coming soon to my blog :)
Stage 2 delirious amusement came in considering how NOT worth the new rental rate our building is. Yes, it's been a great place to settle into Seattle - walkable to everything from work to downtown to the stadiums to quaint neighborhood main drags to stunning views and urban parks, close access to highways to the mountains too, a quiet building with mostly good neighbors, etc.
But there are plenty of issues that we've tried to ignore for the last couple years. I won't go into detail here about them, but they're pretty 50/50 with the positives.
The new owners are not really landlords. They're a small investment company who renovate beat up, old buildings into fancy new apartments to make them far more profitable for owners. They don't really expect us to pay the new rent; they just want us out to do their renovations and help along our "rapidly gentrifying neighborhood." (Their phrasing, not mine.)
Learning that caused a brief plummet back into stage 1 (stress and anger), but it was shortly replaced by a leap into stage 3 (!) when I started cruising apartment listings. Although the market for renters is much tougher now than it was two years ago when we were last looking, we managed to land a new place within about a week and a half of initiating the search - and it's a great one!
And so stage 3 continues. Now that I know for sure where we are going, I feel like I'm at the beginning of a new relationship - giddy, distracted, and ultimately obsessed with the concept of something I really don't know at all...but will, very very soon. As I write this, I'm on my lunch break at work, chowing down over my keyboard so I can get some of my infatuated ramblings off my chest before plunging back into work.
We'll be moving to Queen Anne - the other major hill in Seattle that nuzzles downtown. The famous, so-called "Frasier view" is taken from Queen Anne. I took the following photo on my first run up the hill, nearly two years ago.
Hassles of moving week itself aside, we'll get to enjoy all the perks of moving without the hassle of having to find new jobs or new friends. Instead, we'll get to explore new cafes, new restaurants, new bookstores, new libraries, new ice cream shops, new running routes, new evening walks, new hidden public stairways and secret views...all the exciting aspects of going somewhere new!
We'll be in a nicer neighborhood overall, and finally have covered off-street parking! We'll have our very own balcony with beautiful views of the Seattle skyline, Mt. Rainier, Lake Union and the Cascade mountains. We'll have enough space to not need a separate storage unit anymore. And all for about the same price we pay now!
Clearly, we should have made this move a long time ago.
In the meantime, as with all goodbyes - however small - I have lists of things I will miss about our current home...lists of things I still haven't ever gotten around to doing in our neighborhood, that are imperative to do before moving next month. Funny how a deadline sometimes is all the push you need to grant yourself the experiences you've been thinking about, if not dreaming of. Nostalgic list entry coming soon to my blog :)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
What happens when I don't blog for a month
This evening, I went for a nice long-ish run through Madison Valley, arguably one of the nicest parts of Seattle, and ultimately down to the shores of Lake Washington. At the end of the road is a dock that pokes out over the lake. I was about 3.5 miles into my run at this point, and decided to sprawl out on the dock beneath the horizon-bound sun for a solid 10 or 15 minutes before continuing my run. To say that I felt grateful to be alive in that moment is an understatement.
This picture was not taken today, but this entry feels like a good excuse to share this shot I took about a month ago after running to Golden Gardens - yet another lovely Seattle park on the water.
The sky felt big today...full of those massive, puffy clouds that didn't mind sharing sky space with the sun - a rare breed here in Seattle. I had the dock to myself, and nothing but the sounds of the water lapping against its legs beneath me. The temperature was perfect lying-on-a-dock-in-a-sweaty-t-shirt-and-shorts weather. I could see to the tops of Cougar and Tiger Mountains both, my running playgrounds, and some of the snowy peaks in the North Cascades as well. Really lovely indeed. I couldn't stop thinking, I live here. I ran from my doorstep to this place. I live here.
I got together with Lu last week for dinner (Thai food, yum!) and dessert (Yogurtland, yum!) and a lot of overdue catching up. At some point, we got to talking about how easy it is to forget that Seattle is a city surrounded (not entirely, obviously) by water. Although a city of hills opens itself to the possibility of amazing vantage points and views in surprising places, there are also plenty of spots in the city that proffer no view of the water at all. My daily walk to work is one of them.
So, in keeping with the lyrics that inspired the name of this blog, I do appreciate the times I'm able to be near the water. It's a rare run I go on that doesn't have me running along, around, or over some body of water. I love it.
It has been a week of quiet, content moments like that, and catching up moments like the one over hot noodles and curry with Lu, and also a week of letting go and embracing change. As many of you know by now, I was offered a full time copywriting gig at REI Headquarters for the summer - an opportunity I am beyond thrilled about, though it has meant a swift departure from many other aspects of my daily life this past year.
In the span of two weeks, I went to my last (for now) web design class, my last (for now) in-office day at the magazine, and on Thursday, my last day (for now) selling shoes at the Seattle REI store. Although the goodbyes said this week are not permanent in the sense that anyone will be out of my life entirely...my day-to-day routine will indeed change drastically, and the faces I see at work every day won't be the same. The "goodbyes" of this week reflect the inevitable groan of change that happens in our lives, and dang, it's never easy, even when the changes are exciting.
Cobbling together part time jobs and classes and the occasional freelance contract project has made for an interesting, wonderful, and full (!) two years in Seattle, but I am hungry to try life on a regular schedule again.
Over a year ago, when I went through my last "Whoops, I have too much on my plate" crisis, I remember a conversation with my friend Tom about how being stressed out not only sucks up your time, but it also deprives you of creative flow. Without the ability to let your mind genuinely wander, unencumbered by the onerous need to constantly monitor your mental to-do list, making art or envisioning anything new at all is difficult. Creativity and innovation flow only once you've decluttered your brain enough to make room for their possibilities.
Happily, since being offered the job this summer and starting to wean myself off my current mosaic schedule, I have felt more balanced and content than I have in a long time. I haven't been stressed. I have read a bunch of books. (Ann Patchett! Toni Morrison! Hello again, world of literature!) I have had time for my friends and for myself, and it's been quite lovely indeed.
With Alan in town for nearly the entire month of May, we got in a lot of nice adventures, including a day of hiking and sunshine and waterfalls and breweries and bookstore browsing up in Bellingham.
Several weekends ago, Alan and Elodie and I spent the better part of our Saturday gorging ourselves on free cheese samples at Seattle's annual Wine and Cheese Festival at the iconic Pike Place Market. Did you catch the part about it being free? Drool. Alan and I came home and filled our fridge with blue cheese, young Gouda, coconut cheese (infused with coconut oil, for real!), smoked cheddar, and acted as temporary hosts to Elodie's trove of soft, stinky French camembert.
Homemade nachos with smoked cheddar. So much for my dairy and gluten avoidance.
I also managed to make it to two of four days of the 40th Annual Northwest Folklife festival - a big old hippie party at the Space Needle every year, that Seyeon took me to for the first time in 2005, and which was a big part of why I thought I'd love living in this city. Voted "Biggest Flower Child" by my peers in my high school yearbook, is it really any surprise I went to Oberlin College and eventually wound up here?
Let's see...what else? Two evenings of dinner parties with good friends in a row - Kate and Jeff's Memorial Day deck warming party, complete with grilled burgers and mini cheesecake tarts, and Megan and David's kitchen warming/anniversary party, complete with spicy Thai soup, chocolate-covered strawberries, and the best homemade bread, made by my favorite Dutch mother currently living in the continental U.S.
Sunset last night from Dave and Megan's living room window.
Speaking of delicious food, Lauren and I hit up the brand new Skillet Diner on Capitol Hill; I'm definitely becoming one of those urban foodie divas that wants to try out all the hot foodie spots. Aiee. Seriously though...plaid shirts on all the wait staff, beer and wine in mason jars, damn good fries, and again, all within walking distance of home.
Earlier in the month, Alan and I trekked up to the small, old navy town of Port Gamble with the Outdoors NW crew for the Beast Adventure Triathlon. 6 miles sea kayaking, 16 miles mountain biking, and an embarrassingly short 5K trail run at the end...Neal, being the rockstar he is, covered the first two legs of the tri, before I took over for the final brief running leg. The weather was miserably characteristic of the Northwest, so we both got wet and cold, but (well, I speak for myself) had a blast nonetheless.
The mountain biking part was very hardcore.
Coming down the finishing chute!
Team ONW!
I've gone for some lovely runs with friends, including exploration of the water tower at Volunteer Park with Zanna (4.5 stars on trusty Yelp; go read about how people give themselves heart attacks climbing the stairs for the best free view of Seattle, then imagine the two of us RUNNING up those flights...heck yes), and my first time cruising around Carkeek Park with Ron - a sweet morning run sandwiched between delicious, raw, Incan-superfood-charged smoothies. Why am I friends with so many men (well, two at least) who eat weirder things than me, run in Vibram Fivefingers, speak with exclamation marks, and have adorable little boys I wish I could hang out with all the time? Life is good.
Summer is in the air, and I am grateful as ever to be alive and here. Hello June!
This picture was not taken today, but this entry feels like a good excuse to share this shot I took about a month ago after running to Golden Gardens - yet another lovely Seattle park on the water.
The sky felt big today...full of those massive, puffy clouds that didn't mind sharing sky space with the sun - a rare breed here in Seattle. I had the dock to myself, and nothing but the sounds of the water lapping against its legs beneath me. The temperature was perfect lying-on-a-dock-in-a-sweaty-t-shirt-and-shorts weather. I could see to the tops of Cougar and Tiger Mountains both, my running playgrounds, and some of the snowy peaks in the North Cascades as well. Really lovely indeed. I couldn't stop thinking, I live here. I ran from my doorstep to this place. I live here.
I got together with Lu last week for dinner (Thai food, yum!) and dessert (Yogurtland, yum!) and a lot of overdue catching up. At some point, we got to talking about how easy it is to forget that Seattle is a city surrounded (not entirely, obviously) by water. Although a city of hills opens itself to the possibility of amazing vantage points and views in surprising places, there are also plenty of spots in the city that proffer no view of the water at all. My daily walk to work is one of them.
So, in keeping with the lyrics that inspired the name of this blog, I do appreciate the times I'm able to be near the water. It's a rare run I go on that doesn't have me running along, around, or over some body of water. I love it.
It has been a week of quiet, content moments like that, and catching up moments like the one over hot noodles and curry with Lu, and also a week of letting go and embracing change. As many of you know by now, I was offered a full time copywriting gig at REI Headquarters for the summer - an opportunity I am beyond thrilled about, though it has meant a swift departure from many other aspects of my daily life this past year.
In the span of two weeks, I went to my last (for now) web design class, my last (for now) in-office day at the magazine, and on Thursday, my last day (for now) selling shoes at the Seattle REI store. Although the goodbyes said this week are not permanent in the sense that anyone will be out of my life entirely...my day-to-day routine will indeed change drastically, and the faces I see at work every day won't be the same. The "goodbyes" of this week reflect the inevitable groan of change that happens in our lives, and dang, it's never easy, even when the changes are exciting.
Cobbling together part time jobs and classes and the occasional freelance contract project has made for an interesting, wonderful, and full (!) two years in Seattle, but I am hungry to try life on a regular schedule again.
Over a year ago, when I went through my last "Whoops, I have too much on my plate" crisis, I remember a conversation with my friend Tom about how being stressed out not only sucks up your time, but it also deprives you of creative flow. Without the ability to let your mind genuinely wander, unencumbered by the onerous need to constantly monitor your mental to-do list, making art or envisioning anything new at all is difficult. Creativity and innovation flow only once you've decluttered your brain enough to make room for their possibilities.
Happily, since being offered the job this summer and starting to wean myself off my current mosaic schedule, I have felt more balanced and content than I have in a long time. I haven't been stressed. I have read a bunch of books. (Ann Patchett! Toni Morrison! Hello again, world of literature!) I have had time for my friends and for myself, and it's been quite lovely indeed.
With Alan in town for nearly the entire month of May, we got in a lot of nice adventures, including a day of hiking and sunshine and waterfalls and breweries and bookstore browsing up in Bellingham.
Several weekends ago, Alan and Elodie and I spent the better part of our Saturday gorging ourselves on free cheese samples at Seattle's annual Wine and Cheese Festival at the iconic Pike Place Market. Did you catch the part about it being free? Drool. Alan and I came home and filled our fridge with blue cheese, young Gouda, coconut cheese (infused with coconut oil, for real!), smoked cheddar, and acted as temporary hosts to Elodie's trove of soft, stinky French camembert.
Homemade nachos with smoked cheddar. So much for my dairy and gluten avoidance.
I also managed to make it to two of four days of the 40th Annual Northwest Folklife festival - a big old hippie party at the Space Needle every year, that Seyeon took me to for the first time in 2005, and which was a big part of why I thought I'd love living in this city. Voted "Biggest Flower Child" by my peers in my high school yearbook, is it really any surprise I went to Oberlin College and eventually wound up here?
Let's see...what else? Two evenings of dinner parties with good friends in a row - Kate and Jeff's Memorial Day deck warming party, complete with grilled burgers and mini cheesecake tarts, and Megan and David's kitchen warming/anniversary party, complete with spicy Thai soup, chocolate-covered strawberries, and the best homemade bread, made by my favorite Dutch mother currently living in the continental U.S.
Sunset last night from Dave and Megan's living room window.
Speaking of delicious food, Lauren and I hit up the brand new Skillet Diner on Capitol Hill; I'm definitely becoming one of those urban foodie divas that wants to try out all the hot foodie spots. Aiee. Seriously though...plaid shirts on all the wait staff, beer and wine in mason jars, damn good fries, and again, all within walking distance of home.
Earlier in the month, Alan and I trekked up to the small, old navy town of Port Gamble with the Outdoors NW crew for the Beast Adventure Triathlon. 6 miles sea kayaking, 16 miles mountain biking, and an embarrassingly short 5K trail run at the end...Neal, being the rockstar he is, covered the first two legs of the tri, before I took over for the final brief running leg. The weather was miserably characteristic of the Northwest, so we both got wet and cold, but (well, I speak for myself) had a blast nonetheless.
The mountain biking part was very hardcore.
Coming down the finishing chute!
Team ONW!
I've gone for some lovely runs with friends, including exploration of the water tower at Volunteer Park with Zanna (4.5 stars on trusty Yelp; go read about how people give themselves heart attacks climbing the stairs for the best free view of Seattle, then imagine the two of us RUNNING up those flights...heck yes), and my first time cruising around Carkeek Park with Ron - a sweet morning run sandwiched between delicious, raw, Incan-superfood-charged smoothies. Why am I friends with so many men (well, two at least) who eat weirder things than me, run in Vibram Fivefingers, speak with exclamation marks, and have adorable little boys I wish I could hang out with all the time? Life is good.
Summer is in the air, and I am grateful as ever to be alive and here. Hello June!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Cheaper than therapy
So, I've been struggling with something unusual and fairly disturbing lately...
Feeling bored while running!
My gosh. To my friends out there who frequently tell me I'm crazy and they have no idea why I enjoy running, I think I finally understand you. I have no idea what to blame for this unprecedented emotion, but the vast majority of my runs recently have just felt...dull. And mostly me just thinking about wanting to be done. Tired feet, tired body, feeling like I'm just dragging it through the motions. And resentful that I have some big races in the next few months (starting next weekend!) that I have to train for, so just not running if I don't feel like it is not really an option; I'm committed to those races.
Okay, maybe I have some theories:
1. I've been running in shoes that I've put over 1,000 miles on. Footwear faux pas/fail...and I should know better.
2. I've been running almost exclusively on pavement around the city, rather than out on trails in the mountains.
3. I made a New Year's resolution to run more regularly; not necessarily more miles overall, but changing my running habits from 1-2 ridiculously long (10-25 mile) runs/week to 3-4 shorter (3-7 mile) runs/week + the occasional longer one. The problem is that my runs usually don't start feeling good until 7 or 8 miles in...the first few miles always hurt and make me wonder why I do this to myself again and again. But then, inevitably, I hit my stride, my runner's high, and it all comes flooding back to me, and I can't wait to do it all over again. But of course, ridiculously long runs take ridiculously large swaths of available daylight hours - of which there are few these days, between work, school and January in Seattle.
Nevertheless, it's been bothering me a lot. Running gives me energy and pride and identity. Running makes me feel strong. Running is cheaper than a gym membership and cheaper than therapy. Running lets me eat whatever the heck I want and not worry about it. Running has helped me get to know Seattle in and out - its multitude of diverse neighborhoods, its parks and canals and bridges, its "backcountry" trails, its hidden public stairways, its best mountain views, its prettiest places to watch sunsets, its most hardcore hills, its nicest waterfront areas, cafes and bistros and independent shops tucked away in residential areas to go back and explore later. Running has romanticized the city for me in so many ways. (That's thanks to Amsterdam, the city which truly made me fall in love with running..., and where I learned the joys of exploring cities by (fleet!) foot.)
I don't want to be bored with running!
Fortunately, I've had a couple good runs this past week that have given me back some confidence. Maybe I do just need to rescind that New Year's Resolution, because the good ones were both 2+ hour runs, while all the meh-runs have been the much shorter ones. (This is why I always tell non-runner friends: If you don't like running, the solution is to do it more! The more you run, the more fun it gets.) One of the stellar, ah-I-DO-still-enjoy-this runs was at Cougar Mountain, my first serious trail run in a good while. It was raining, and the rain fell increasingly harder as the hours passed. I ran through so many washed out trails and mud puddles, and was soaked and chilled to the bone at the end of it - but deliriously happy! I felt like myself again: rejuvenated, alive, content.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep...
Then today, I planned a long urban run between work and class - one of my favorite routes around the city, starting in Belltown, running alongside Lake Union, through Fremont, along the ship canal trail (so reminiscent of Amsterdam - bikes and drawbridges included!), through Magnolia, around my favorite loop trail around the wild Discovery Park with stunning waterfront views of the Olympic Mountains, then back and to Gasworks Park for a good skyline view, and around the east side of Lake Union again. Did 17 solid miles today, and took the following set of cell phone pictures of all the reasons running was not boring today.
The sun finally crept out from under the clouds.
Bald eagle(s) sighting! See if you can see the pair of them hanging out in the tree. Seeing them in the wild out here still stops me in my tracks, every time.
Sunset reflected on Lake Union, with Space Needle in the fuzzy background. No colors digitally altered here in any way. It truly was spectacular.
So, I guess I'm still a runner.
Whew.
Feeling bored while running!
My gosh. To my friends out there who frequently tell me I'm crazy and they have no idea why I enjoy running, I think I finally understand you. I have no idea what to blame for this unprecedented emotion, but the vast majority of my runs recently have just felt...dull. And mostly me just thinking about wanting to be done. Tired feet, tired body, feeling like I'm just dragging it through the motions. And resentful that I have some big races in the next few months (starting next weekend!) that I have to train for, so just not running if I don't feel like it is not really an option; I'm committed to those races.
Okay, maybe I have some theories:
1. I've been running in shoes that I've put over 1,000 miles on. Footwear faux pas/fail...and I should know better.
2. I've been running almost exclusively on pavement around the city, rather than out on trails in the mountains.
3. I made a New Year's resolution to run more regularly; not necessarily more miles overall, but changing my running habits from 1-2 ridiculously long (10-25 mile) runs/week to 3-4 shorter (3-7 mile) runs/week + the occasional longer one. The problem is that my runs usually don't start feeling good until 7 or 8 miles in...the first few miles always hurt and make me wonder why I do this to myself again and again. But then, inevitably, I hit my stride, my runner's high, and it all comes flooding back to me, and I can't wait to do it all over again. But of course, ridiculously long runs take ridiculously large swaths of available daylight hours - of which there are few these days, between work, school and January in Seattle.
Nevertheless, it's been bothering me a lot. Running gives me energy and pride and identity. Running makes me feel strong. Running is cheaper than a gym membership and cheaper than therapy. Running lets me eat whatever the heck I want and not worry about it. Running has helped me get to know Seattle in and out - its multitude of diverse neighborhoods, its parks and canals and bridges, its "backcountry" trails, its hidden public stairways, its best mountain views, its prettiest places to watch sunsets, its most hardcore hills, its nicest waterfront areas, cafes and bistros and independent shops tucked away in residential areas to go back and explore later. Running has romanticized the city for me in so many ways. (That's thanks to Amsterdam, the city which truly made me fall in love with running..., and where I learned the joys of exploring cities by (fleet!) foot.)
I don't want to be bored with running!
Fortunately, I've had a couple good runs this past week that have given me back some confidence. Maybe I do just need to rescind that New Year's Resolution, because the good ones were both 2+ hour runs, while all the meh-runs have been the much shorter ones. (This is why I always tell non-runner friends: If you don't like running, the solution is to do it more! The more you run, the more fun it gets.) One of the stellar, ah-I-DO-still-enjoy-this runs was at Cougar Mountain, my first serious trail run in a good while. It was raining, and the rain fell increasingly harder as the hours passed. I ran through so many washed out trails and mud puddles, and was soaked and chilled to the bone at the end of it - but deliriously happy! I felt like myself again: rejuvenated, alive, content.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep...
Then today, I planned a long urban run between work and class - one of my favorite routes around the city, starting in Belltown, running alongside Lake Union, through Fremont, along the ship canal trail (so reminiscent of Amsterdam - bikes and drawbridges included!), through Magnolia, around my favorite loop trail around the wild Discovery Park with stunning waterfront views of the Olympic Mountains, then back and to Gasworks Park for a good skyline view, and around the east side of Lake Union again. Did 17 solid miles today, and took the following set of cell phone pictures of all the reasons running was not boring today.
The sun finally crept out from under the clouds.
Bald eagle(s) sighting! See if you can see the pair of them hanging out in the tree. Seeing them in the wild out here still stops me in my tracks, every time.
Sunset reflected on Lake Union, with Space Needle in the fuzzy background. No colors digitally altered here in any way. It truly was spectacular.
So, I guess I'm still a runner.
Whew.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Are we home yet?
(From my journal) August 31, 2009 - "I think I underestimated how lonely a new city can be...starting from scratch. Meeting new people who are all nice and friendly, but really just missing the close friends of my past, doubting if I'll ever be able to forge those kinds of connections anew again...
"Home" is so lost and distorted for me by now, with pieces of myself scattered across two continents and more cities than I can count, in the hearts of so many people I've met along the way. I just have to have faith that this place will work out, too; it just may take awhile."
I find myself coming back to the theme of home again and again in my writing. (It's been nearly two years since the last time I wrote about home, so I figure it's time again.) I've been reflecting on it a lot lately, because I've now been in Seattle a full year and a half, I am training new hires at REI (many of whom, like myself, are Midwest transplants), and I have begun to have friends who've come to Seattle even more recently than myself.
What a pleasure, finally, to feel like I have a good grasp on this place, that I no longer have to print out Mapquest directions to get to somewhere else in the city, that I can share my favorite cafes and restaurants and parks with newcomers, and above all, that I have cultivated the kinds of friendships here I feel are going to be friendships for life.
It took some time, though. Even with Alan here with me, and Seyeon in Seattle when I first arrived, the first few months (and then some) were often hard. Despite the excitement of being somewhere new that I felt confident would someday feel like home, the truth was that it didn't right away - far from it.
October 2, 2009 - "I took a shower in hopes that it would feel cleansing and rejuvenating, and it did, sort of...but mostly I just rubbed my eyes in frustration, feeling the hot water beading up on my back, and imagining myself years down the road when I'll look back on this time in my life and remember how lonely the city used to make me feel once upon a time. Cities ARE lonely. I'm so in love with this place, but what of it without Seyeon? I miss Ohio."
Am I homesick for Kansas? I get asked this. I have the same reaction that I see from many other new arrivals in Seattle when asked if they miss where they came from - a sort of scrunched up face, then: "I miss my family. And friends. But otherwise, no, not at all."
Don't get me wrong. I feel grateful for where I grew up - in a nice house in a beautiful neighborhood, across the street from woods and a creek and a hundred continuous miles of forested bike path, within walking distance of my elementary school and Chipotle and a Starbucks-knockoff coffeeshop, with a pond and waterfall and huge old trees in my backyard.
Me + Kansas = Home, Version 1.0. (Photo by Kelly Anderson.)
I regret that I ever found amusement in the bumper sticker "Kansas: As Bigoted As You Think It Is" (a play on Kansas' admittedly silly state motto, "Kansas: As Big As You Think It Is" (what? Coast People can't even point to Kansas on a map; they have no preconceived notion of its bigness...and even if they did, since when is "Big" a sought-after quality?))*, because in spite of a few intolerant people I grew up going to school with, there's no use in perpetuating unproductive stereotypes.
Truth be told, Midwesterners are great, and I maintain a fondness, and even protectiveness, in my heart for my home state despite my lack of desire to ever move back. I'll defend Kansas if you're Coast People and make flyover jokes. I am offended when you think Kansas and Ohio are next to each other. I get excited when I see KU bumper stickers on cars out here. Many of my favorite people in Seattle are from the Midwest (mostly Iowa!); I fell in love harder with Ohio while at Oberlin than I did California while I was at Stanford; I brought my born-and-raised-Midwesterner boyfriend out here with me. Yes, I feel an ache in my heart for wraparound porches and big skies and affordable houses and all-you-can-eat buffets and feeling safe running alone at night.
Me + Ohio = Home-like love, but not lifelong home-like love
But with all that said, I feel deep, deep in my soul that the Pacific Northwest is home for me. It's been a gradual settling in to this place, an exercise in patience, in finding my groove, in training my body to love running hills, in learning to take Vitamin D supplements to help make it through the gray blanket of winter. I thoroughly enjoyed the honeymoon phase while it lasted, and now am warm with the enduring comfort and affection I feel on the other side of that. I get to relive that discovery and share it with new Seattle arrivals, while ultimately appreciating the way Seattle has, for me, developed the ragged Realness I learned about once upon a time from the Velveteen Rabbit - the kind that's brought about only by real love, and never goes away.
Me + Washington state = Definite home-like love
Those of us that chose to move here, we were all drawn to the Northwest for different reasons. Nevertheless, there is a single and persistent thread that's brought so many of us out here, and it's one that can weave a home for anyone who simply has the patience.
May 3, 2009 - "I feel connected again, and a part of this world! So many times since I've moved here, Seattle has felt big and lonely and maybe not the right place for me after all - and nothing is scarier than wanting to crawl back into your own cocoon, into something familiar and safe again, only to realize that that home base has disappeared and you've no choice but to squint into the sunlight, spread your wings and fly. But today, right now, Seattle feels like home."
The lonely entries tapered off and ceased altogether a long time ago; it's hard to even identify with them anymore. Nearly a year since that last one, I feel content and comfortable here as though I have, in fact, spent my whole life delicately tucked between the Pacific Ocean and the Cascade Mountains, nestled next to Puget Sound, living where the highway signs point to either Vancouver or Portland, and I feel darn lucky to be sandwiched in what seems to me to be pretty much the greatest place on Earth. I am grateful for all that this city has given me in the past year and a half. Thank you, Seattle! I'm still in love with you.
*With apologies for the double parentheses. Annoying, I know. Couldn't help it.
"Home" is so lost and distorted for me by now, with pieces of myself scattered across two continents and more cities than I can count, in the hearts of so many people I've met along the way. I just have to have faith that this place will work out, too; it just may take awhile."
I find myself coming back to the theme of home again and again in my writing. (It's been nearly two years since the last time I wrote about home, so I figure it's time again.) I've been reflecting on it a lot lately, because I've now been in Seattle a full year and a half, I am training new hires at REI (many of whom, like myself, are Midwest transplants), and I have begun to have friends who've come to Seattle even more recently than myself.
What a pleasure, finally, to feel like I have a good grasp on this place, that I no longer have to print out Mapquest directions to get to somewhere else in the city, that I can share my favorite cafes and restaurants and parks with newcomers, and above all, that I have cultivated the kinds of friendships here I feel are going to be friendships for life.
It took some time, though. Even with Alan here with me, and Seyeon in Seattle when I first arrived, the first few months (and then some) were often hard. Despite the excitement of being somewhere new that I felt confident would someday feel like home, the truth was that it didn't right away - far from it.
October 2, 2009 - "I took a shower in hopes that it would feel cleansing and rejuvenating, and it did, sort of...but mostly I just rubbed my eyes in frustration, feeling the hot water beading up on my back, and imagining myself years down the road when I'll look back on this time in my life and remember how lonely the city used to make me feel once upon a time. Cities ARE lonely. I'm so in love with this place, but what of it without Seyeon? I miss Ohio."
Am I homesick for Kansas? I get asked this. I have the same reaction that I see from many other new arrivals in Seattle when asked if they miss where they came from - a sort of scrunched up face, then: "I miss my family. And friends. But otherwise, no, not at all."
Don't get me wrong. I feel grateful for where I grew up - in a nice house in a beautiful neighborhood, across the street from woods and a creek and a hundred continuous miles of forested bike path, within walking distance of my elementary school and Chipotle and a Starbucks-knockoff coffeeshop, with a pond and waterfall and huge old trees in my backyard.
Me + Kansas = Home, Version 1.0. (Photo by Kelly Anderson.)
I regret that I ever found amusement in the bumper sticker "Kansas: As Bigoted As You Think It Is" (a play on Kansas' admittedly silly state motto, "Kansas: As Big As You Think It Is" (what? Coast People can't even point to Kansas on a map; they have no preconceived notion of its bigness...and even if they did, since when is "Big" a sought-after quality?))*, because in spite of a few intolerant people I grew up going to school with, there's no use in perpetuating unproductive stereotypes.
Truth be told, Midwesterners are great, and I maintain a fondness, and even protectiveness, in my heart for my home state despite my lack of desire to ever move back. I'll defend Kansas if you're Coast People and make flyover jokes. I am offended when you think Kansas and Ohio are next to each other. I get excited when I see KU bumper stickers on cars out here. Many of my favorite people in Seattle are from the Midwest (mostly Iowa!); I fell in love harder with Ohio while at Oberlin than I did California while I was at Stanford; I brought my born-and-raised-Midwesterner boyfriend out here with me. Yes, I feel an ache in my heart for wraparound porches and big skies and affordable houses and all-you-can-eat buffets and feeling safe running alone at night.
Me + Ohio = Home-like love, but not lifelong home-like love
But with all that said, I feel deep, deep in my soul that the Pacific Northwest is home for me. It's been a gradual settling in to this place, an exercise in patience, in finding my groove, in training my body to love running hills, in learning to take Vitamin D supplements to help make it through the gray blanket of winter. I thoroughly enjoyed the honeymoon phase while it lasted, and now am warm with the enduring comfort and affection I feel on the other side of that. I get to relive that discovery and share it with new Seattle arrivals, while ultimately appreciating the way Seattle has, for me, developed the ragged Realness I learned about once upon a time from the Velveteen Rabbit - the kind that's brought about only by real love, and never goes away.
Me + Washington state = Definite home-like love
Those of us that chose to move here, we were all drawn to the Northwest for different reasons. Nevertheless, there is a single and persistent thread that's brought so many of us out here, and it's one that can weave a home for anyone who simply has the patience.
May 3, 2009 - "I feel connected again, and a part of this world! So many times since I've moved here, Seattle has felt big and lonely and maybe not the right place for me after all - and nothing is scarier than wanting to crawl back into your own cocoon, into something familiar and safe again, only to realize that that home base has disappeared and you've no choice but to squint into the sunlight, spread your wings and fly. But today, right now, Seattle feels like home."
The lonely entries tapered off and ceased altogether a long time ago; it's hard to even identify with them anymore. Nearly a year since that last one, I feel content and comfortable here as though I have, in fact, spent my whole life delicately tucked between the Pacific Ocean and the Cascade Mountains, nestled next to Puget Sound, living where the highway signs point to either Vancouver or Portland, and I feel darn lucky to be sandwiched in what seems to me to be pretty much the greatest place on Earth. I am grateful for all that this city has given me in the past year and a half. Thank you, Seattle! I'm still in love with you.
*With apologies for the double parentheses. Annoying, I know. Couldn't help it.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Impromptu rooftop concerts and urban sunsets
Overall, this has been a good past couple weeks of working hard, but maximizing my relaxation and enjoyment of the outdoors with the free time I do scrounge up.
Random Oberlin sighting of the week! Saw this window sticker as I was sitting in traffic passing through Wallingford over the weekend.
I went for a long run on Cougar Mountain today...it truly is a trail runner's paradise there...50+ miles of trails, ranging in difficulty level from flat stretches to steeper, more technical single-track routes, and all interspersed with intriguing landmarks like a giant clay pit, an old mine shaft, several small waterfalls, a glacial boulder called the "Fantastic Erratic", and an old anti-aircraft military base. I've run at Cougar several times before, but this was the first time I set out on my own with a trail map in palm, water and energy gels strapped to my back, and just took to the woods for hours of solo exploration. It was 70ish degrees and sunny, but the forest is highly dense in most places. I ran in and out of cool stretches, warm pockets of air, sunshine and shade alike. Great way to spend my day, though it thoroughly wiped me out. I napped away my afternoon.
Jess is moving back to North Carolina at the end of this month, but we spent last Friday afternoon wandering around the lovely neighborhood of Ballard. Alan and I went back the following day so I could buy (finally, Tom, finally!) a cute lunchbox for myself to encourage more creative, thoughtful lunches to take to work. (Yes, expect a lunchbox blog post in the near future.) We also stopped in a cozy outdoor beer garden in Ballard to soak up the afternoon sunshine and watch the beginning of the Sounders game amidst a sea of fellow futbol fans. Did I mention that I love this city?
Zoe came over from Bainbridge Island later that evening so we could hang out. I met her at the ferry landing and we went out for Thai food down by Pike Place Market before going to the Hard Rock Cafe to see a band that she'd seen at the Ballard Market perform: Luc and the Lovingtons. The Hard Rock Cafe is a new addition for Seattle, having just opened its doors in February. I'm no Hard Rock Cafe groupie, but in all truth, it was a sweet venue. In addition to showcasing dozens of dolled up high schoolers for their prom dinner on Saturday, it boasts a super-sweet rooftop terrace with a nice view of the market and the Sound. In exploring up there, a couple members of the band recognized Zoe ("You're Ballard Market Girl!!") and we all hung out on the roof until the show started. The show itself was spectacular; their album got reviewed by the Seattle Weekly in the same breath as the Blue Scholars' album...woohoo local music! They're a feel-good reggae/funk sort of band whose music is all about peace, love and happiness, with special interest on their album in post-Katrina New Orleans, Latin America, and Africa.
Oh! And Jason Mraz has covered their "Freedom song." Rad.
After they played, some guy gave them $500 in cash to continue playing on the rooftop around the "campfire." It worked for a while, until condo neighbors complained and Hard Rock's bouncers kicked us all off the roof...but all in all, it was a truly magical night.
Cell phone photo. Pardon the poor quality.
In other news about my friends whose names begin with the letter Z...Zanna's birthday was this week! She had a rockin evening picnic, complete with Lady Gaga (in Ipod format, not in the flesh, sadly), volleyball net, yummy Trophy cupcakes (which just broke a record!), watermelon, frisbees, and a lot of good company.
Good, silly times were had by all.
There were also some lovely sunsets this week. Here's one Alan and I managed to catch from atop the Mount Baker neighborhood - a totally under-appreciated part of Seattle on the southeast side with spectacular views that most people don't seem to know about.
Most Seattle skyline photos are taken from Queen Anne hill, where the Space Needle features prominently in the view of the skyline. It's in this picture, too, but so tucked away behind the buildings that it's barely even a speck.
+ the moon.
So, I'm feeling much calmer and balanced than I was awhile ago. Crazily enough, I'm still averaging anywhere from 40-50 hour work weeks, but somehow I feel like I'm just managing better. The extra sunlight hours are helping my energy levels a lot. Running regularly again helps. And vacation just around the corner is a big deal! Onward...
Random Oberlin sighting of the week! Saw this window sticker as I was sitting in traffic passing through Wallingford over the weekend.
I went for a long run on Cougar Mountain today...it truly is a trail runner's paradise there...50+ miles of trails, ranging in difficulty level from flat stretches to steeper, more technical single-track routes, and all interspersed with intriguing landmarks like a giant clay pit, an old mine shaft, several small waterfalls, a glacial boulder called the "Fantastic Erratic", and an old anti-aircraft military base. I've run at Cougar several times before, but this was the first time I set out on my own with a trail map in palm, water and energy gels strapped to my back, and just took to the woods for hours of solo exploration. It was 70ish degrees and sunny, but the forest is highly dense in most places. I ran in and out of cool stretches, warm pockets of air, sunshine and shade alike. Great way to spend my day, though it thoroughly wiped me out. I napped away my afternoon.
Jess is moving back to North Carolina at the end of this month, but we spent last Friday afternoon wandering around the lovely neighborhood of Ballard. Alan and I went back the following day so I could buy (finally, Tom, finally!) a cute lunchbox for myself to encourage more creative, thoughtful lunches to take to work. (Yes, expect a lunchbox blog post in the near future.) We also stopped in a cozy outdoor beer garden in Ballard to soak up the afternoon sunshine and watch the beginning of the Sounders game amidst a sea of fellow futbol fans. Did I mention that I love this city?
Zoe came over from Bainbridge Island later that evening so we could hang out. I met her at the ferry landing and we went out for Thai food down by Pike Place Market before going to the Hard Rock Cafe to see a band that she'd seen at the Ballard Market perform: Luc and the Lovingtons. The Hard Rock Cafe is a new addition for Seattle, having just opened its doors in February. I'm no Hard Rock Cafe groupie, but in all truth, it was a sweet venue. In addition to showcasing dozens of dolled up high schoolers for their prom dinner on Saturday, it boasts a super-sweet rooftop terrace with a nice view of the market and the Sound. In exploring up there, a couple members of the band recognized Zoe ("You're Ballard Market Girl!!") and we all hung out on the roof until the show started. The show itself was spectacular; their album got reviewed by the Seattle Weekly in the same breath as the Blue Scholars' album...woohoo local music! They're a feel-good reggae/funk sort of band whose music is all about peace, love and happiness, with special interest on their album in post-Katrina New Orleans, Latin America, and Africa.
Oh! And Jason Mraz has covered their "Freedom song." Rad.
After they played, some guy gave them $500 in cash to continue playing on the rooftop around the "campfire." It worked for a while, until condo neighbors complained and Hard Rock's bouncers kicked us all off the roof...but all in all, it was a truly magical night.
Cell phone photo. Pardon the poor quality.
In other news about my friends whose names begin with the letter Z...Zanna's birthday was this week! She had a rockin evening picnic, complete with Lady Gaga (in Ipod format, not in the flesh, sadly), volleyball net, yummy Trophy cupcakes (which just broke a record!), watermelon, frisbees, and a lot of good company.
Good, silly times were had by all.
There were also some lovely sunsets this week. Here's one Alan and I managed to catch from atop the Mount Baker neighborhood - a totally under-appreciated part of Seattle on the southeast side with spectacular views that most people don't seem to know about.
Most Seattle skyline photos are taken from Queen Anne hill, where the Space Needle features prominently in the view of the skyline. It's in this picture, too, but so tucked away behind the buildings that it's barely even a speck.
+ the moon.
So, I'm feeling much calmer and balanced than I was awhile ago. Crazily enough, I'm still averaging anywhere from 40-50 hour work weeks, but somehow I feel like I'm just managing better. The extra sunlight hours are helping my energy levels a lot. Running regularly again helps. And vacation just around the corner is a big deal! Onward...
Monday, April 19, 2010
Lake Serene, Baseball, and Missing Kitty Shenanigans
Can rainbows redeem my lack of blog entries in a couple weeks?
At Camba's recommendation, Alan and I hiked to the scenic Bridal Veil Falls and Lake Serene yesterday. It was a gorgeous day for it, and in keeping with my promise to myself to rein in my schedule, I had a whole day off to enjoy the outing. Good thing, too, as it being the last day of ski season at Stevens Pass made Highway 2 an absolute mess to get back on in the evening. Alan and I wound up stopping in the tiny town of Gold Bar for post-hike burgers to try and wait out the traffic jam heading back west - an effort that helped mildly, but which we supplemented with GPS navigation to make our way back on winding, county roads rather than sitting in standstill traffic on Highway 2. (Appropriately, Cake's "Long Line of Cars" came on my stereo's IPod shuffle during all this.) Overall, the drive back was more or less a trial effort in our plans for summer of 2011 to drive Alan's 1968 Chevelle from Ohio to Seattle, avoid interstates and chain restaurants, taking scenic state roads instead and exploring Mom-and-Pop places the whole way.
Bridal Veil Falls.
But back to the hike itself. We had a phenomenal time on the mountain - gorgeous, sunny weather that greeted us at the trailhead with spring warmth, but rewarded us with cooler breezes in the denser, shadier forests toward the top.
The route we hiked, about 8 miles roundtrip, traversed everything from scenic valley overlooks off the sides of sloping mountains to dense old-growth forest, from picturesque, cascading waterfalls to deep, slippery snowfields.
Understandably, there were many others out on the trail, but we also had large stretches to ourselves, including a quiet, secluded bench by the side of the still-snow-covered Lake Serene at the top.
In other adventures of late: We went to our first Mariners game on Saturday evening, and watched a decent victory over Detroit. (Sadly, I had to work until 3 p.m. and so missed out on the Sounders' triumph over Kansas City earlier that day.) We walked to the stadium from our apartment in the pouring rain and even soaked as we were by the time we got there, felt lucky to not have to mess with stadium parking.
Although I still maintain that soccer games are approximately 300 times as exciting and exhilarating to watch as baseball games, I nevertheless enjoyed the novelty of what was probably my second professional baseball game ever :)
And, in misadventures of the week...Chloe has been getting herself into all kinds of reckless trouble. Two days ago, we returned home to find that she'd somehow managed to more or less strangled herself with a plastic bag (notably, with a "Keep away from infants and small children" warning label on it...but what of cats?)
And this morning, we slept in and had a conversation a bit like this:
Alan: Hey, did you hear that racket Chloe was making in the kitchen last night?Then it slowly seemed to dawn us both that it was late in the morning and no kitty had come pawing at our faces for breakfast (a daily event that almost always chronologically beats my alarm clock.)
Me: (Laughs) Yes...she's crazy.
Me: Chloe?And...nothing. I got up in horror, searching the apartment high and low, before realizing we'd left a tiny window in the bedroom just barely cracked to let in the breeze last night - and sure enough, there were tiny kitty pawprints in the dust on the ledge outside of it. My heart sunk.
I can write about it now with some lightness, but let's be honest - I was a serious wreck this morning, walking dejectedly around the block with Alan, shaking some food in a tupperware bowl and imagining all the miserably, lonely mornings ahead without my beloved kitty cat. Our neighbor across the hall saw us poking around behind the apartment and mentioned that Chloe had jumped up on the ledge of their bedroom window at about 6:30 this morning, scaring the living daylights out of their dog, Lucy. They hadn't seen her since.
After several laps around the block and no hope in sight, Alan and I returned to the apartment. Plodding up the staircase to our back porch, with tears just on the verge of pouring out my ducts...there she was: Chloe, wedged almost completely out of sight, down between the back stairs and the adjacent trellis. There were leaves and twigs all over her face, her claws were out, her body taut and shaking slightly. Not a motion had been made on her part when we'd shaken her food container multiple times within a few yards of her. Our best guess is that Lucy must have barked up a storm this morning and scared Chloe so badly that she'd stayed frozen in hiding there until we found there.
Here I'd been imagining her having all sorts of adventures in the big city, feasting in dumpsters, nuzzling strangers' ankles and trotting off down to Pioneer Square without me...but there she'd been, about eight feet away from our back door, waiting in frozen terror for God knows what. Regardless, I'm relieved to have my kitty back home safe again, doing somersaults all over my lesson books as I attempt to prep my tutoring lessons. I can only hope her kitty shenanigans will mellow back out in the coming weeks...
Postscript: Trees in the Northwest are awesome.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Hippie chic meets Power walker meets Pub crawler ( + Cup o' Joe Monday, Installment XIV)
New decaf favorite: steamed milk with vanilla!
In anticipation of a busy (as always) Monday, I "worked" ahead and hit up a new coffee-spot yesterday so I wouldn't miss another Cup o' Joe review this week! It was a good day for trekking to a new spot, too, as yesterday appears to have been the last sunny day in a long streak of beautiful rain-free weather. Now that the rain's trickling down my windows again tonight, I'm filled with a bit of trepidation for the coming months...the cold but sunny days have been nice. The sky starts getting dark around 3:30 p.m. this time of year, so when it's gloomy all seven hours of "daylight", it's a bit of a bummer.
But anyway - I dropped/broke my phone yesterday on my run, so what was supposed to be a long, relaxing afternoon off from work turned into a necessary trek downtown to the Verizon store to solve my phone issue. The issue with the Verizon store is that it's Seriously Downtown. No reasonably priced parking anywhere nearby, horrendous traffic to get there, even as a pedestrian...I kind of miss the little Oberlin Verizon store I could hop on my bike and be at in about two minutes flat from just about anywhere in town. But, on the bright side, I realize how rarely I ever get down to Serious Downtown Seattle, despite living within easy walking distance of it. So it was a good, get-me-out-of-my-bubble experience.
A friend from college (it feels strange to refer to anybody as a "friend from college", but I am, simply because I can), John, visited Seattle a couple weeks ago. I got together with him toward the end of his few days here, and he was very Ehh about Seattle as a city. I was more or less horrified by his blase attitude toward what I think is, hands down, the best city in the world - but after yesterday, I think I kind of understand.
Maybe it was just the Christmas-shopping-frenzy, but Serious Downtown Seattle (where, likely, the majority of visitors and tourists spend their time here) is kind of...awful! It's swarming and overrun with people, and there's too many buildings, and it's all icky department stores and overpriced boutiques...basically, all the reasons I don't consider myself inclined to urban living at all. I got accosted at every street corner, and then some, by everybody from political activists to aggressive homeless people to drunken tourists to creepy men to a couple obnoxious AT&T salesmen hassling me about my Verizon shopping bag. It was stressful!
Miraculously at some point, though, I was pacing down a pedestrian-swamped downtown thoroughfare (think flashing billboard ads and Macy's and H&M and a line around two city blocks to sit on Santa's lap in Nordstrom's) and suddenly heard my name being called out. I snapped out of my harried city-goer haze and caught a familiar face - someone I met in Kaplan training several months ago. Fun to be getting to that point where I run into people I know wherever I go...seeing an Obie a week at REI, running into my cycling instructor at Capitol Hill coffeeshops, bumping grocery carts at Trader Joe's with the cute couple who always plays duets at my favorite local open mic night...
I love Seattle for its neighborhoods - for the fact that in any direction, there's a little microcosm of self-contained, distinct culture, whether it be the gay-fabulous hippie chic of Capitol Hill, the down-to-Earth, indie/artsy vibe of Fremont, the live-music, late-night, bar-hopping, pub-crawling wildness of Ballard, the runners' and power-walkers' paradise of Greenlake, or the theater-boasting cultural mecca of Lower Queen Anne. Anywhere you go, you can feel like you've walked into a quaint little village, each with its own distinct coffeeshops and ethnic restaurants and local shops, fraught with its own parks and hills and various views of the Space Needle, the Sound, Lake Union, Lake Washington, the Cascades, the Olympics, Mount Rainier...the multitude of familiar Seattle icons, but each neighborhood set to its own soundtrack.
Yesterday was, miraculously, the first time that I've actually gone to the infamous, fish-flying Pike Place Market since moving here. (No, I still haven't been up the Space Needle...) It was kind of cool to see it in all its Christmas spirit, and full of saltwater smells and fresh fruit stands and the distinctive scent of pine needles:
But all of this rambling, and no mention yet of my coffeeshop d'jour! I had hauled my camera and laptop along with me on my whole downtown adventure, with the thought that I might come across some adorable little cafe somewhere...but at least on all the streets I traversed, there was nothing but the big three: Starbuck's, Tully's, and Seattle's Best Coffee. No can do. So I trekked on back to good ol' Capitol Hill and hit up the other Victrola - on Pike Street.
It has far less seating than the one up on 15th - but on the upside: the smaller, more intimate setting lent itself to a much cozier feel than the other one. The baristas were much friendlier here, and the giant group tables made this place more conducive to hanging out collectively with strangers, rather than plunking down at a tiny, solo table to burrow away alone and work. Also, in further complaints against the 15th location, Seyeon and I met there for coffee (well...actually...orange juice for me; steamed milk for her...haha, we're such sophisticated young urbanites!) a few nights ago and they played the most atrocious, eardrum-destroying noise I'd ever sat through in a coffeeshop. Just awful.
Complete with Cute and Trendy Hipster Girls.
But at this location, everything was mellow and cozy and inviting. The exposed brick wall is a nice touch...the current artwork a little too gothy and morbid for my taste, but I understand that stuff rotates.
Complete with Cute Artist Boy in a Hoodie.
The other cool thing about this place is that it has an in-cafe roasting room. If I knew more about the coffee-roasting process, I could probably better articulate just what goes on in that room, but frankly, I'm clueless. Nevertheless, I got the same excited feeling you get when you're at a brewery and the giant beer-brewing tub-things (obviously, I'm clueless about that, too) are in the next room over, separated from you only by huge panes of glass. You feel like you're getting in on some kind of awesome, secret process, and it's kind of cool. So overall a thumbs up for this place. I'd write more, but I already feel as though this entry has overstayed its welcome and dragged on a little too long. So I'll leave it there, and just say...
Good night, Seattle!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Futbol fun in Seattle!
So, three nights ago, a dream came true:
I went to a soccer game in America, and the stadium was packed! My dad and I had season tickets to the Kansas City Wizards (the "Wiz", as they were, back in the day) for a few years in the late 90s, and I've sorely missed the excitement of watching live soccer since then. Watching on TV just isn't the same; you can't see all the movement on the field. You miss out on so much strategy-ogling. And the crowd rowdiness...the bands! The cheering! Those obnoxious long noise-stick-things!
...the waaaaaaaaave!
I had an opportunity to watch Croatia play Israel when I was in Zagreb a few years ago...I still don't remember why I let that opportunity pass me by (money, probably?), but it was silly. So to have a big soccer game planted in my front yard is a huge deal! And I mean that front-yard bit almost literally; my doorstep is in within walking distance of Qwest Field = no pesky $30 parking fees for me! Although apparently there wouldn't have been any anyway; VW is a sponsor of the MLS and offers VW's complimentary parking at games...what?! Awesome!
But anyway. The point is that Michael and I got $25 tickets (!!!) to the Real Salt Lake vs. LA Galaxy game on Sunday. For those who don't know, the MLS Cup is the Super Bowl of real futbol. The Seattle's MLS-debuting Sounders FC had a great first season, but didn't make it all the way to the Cup - but Seattle won hostmanship (?) of the final game months back. I can't think of a better city, as Seattleites have shown an unbelievable amount of enthusiasm for the sport. Average attendance at Sounders' matches trumps average attendance for both the Kansas City Royals' and the Cleveland Indians' 2009 seasons. Soccer, more popular than baseball, in a US city?
= Reason 23498235 I love this city. As though I needed any more...
The excitement began with the official March to the Match - swarms of screaming soccer fans, all decked out in jerseys and team scarves and painted faces, and a marching band that played renditions of contemporary radio hits. A seriously awesome, and proud, experience to march through Seattle with a bunch of like-minded futbol hooligans!
For our money, the Cup gave us the absolute maximum amount of soccer we could have asked for. The teams had tied the last four times they'd played each other, and this time was no different; after 90 minutes of regulation play, the score was 1-1. After 30 more minutes of over time, the scoreboard hadn't budged. They even managed to tie their first set of shootouts. Finally on sudden death shootouts, Salt Lake proved triumphant. (I won't try to recreate the match itself in writing; I am not a sports writer. Maybe I'll work on it. But not on Thanksgiving Eve.)
Yup, we had a blast. Sure, it was cold, but...the March to the Match warmed us up, and the couple pre-game beers across the street at the local Pyramid Brewery kept us toasty, and the crowd energy was awesome...a few especially rowdy RSL fans behind us swearing their heads off at David Beckham ("God hates you, David Beckham!" - Is that the way Utahn's call it? Ah, I won't let a few bad eggs ruin my entire opinion of a state I otherwise love, but man do I hate bad sportsmanship...)
Otherwise, the game was absolutely fantastic - all I'd dreamed it would be. I can't wait to become a serious Sounders fan in the coming years. Lucky for me, albeit entirely unknowingly, I bought a rain jacket I at Dick's back in Ohio the day I decided officially to move to Seattle, and it is totally in Sounders colors. I was clearly destined to be a Sounders fan.
Michael pulls his hood up to shield himself from the celebratory confetti blasted out in jet streams periodically throughout the game.
My new boots are certainly covering a lot of ground! Michael, in addition to modeling the snazzy Arc'teryx jacket pictured above, is also sporting some of the most awesome hiking boots ever created: the Zamberlan Vioz. Available at REI. Just sayin'.
Also: Qwest Field offers a fantastic view of the skyline:
I'm learning it's hard to go anywhere in Seattle and not have a fantastic view in at least one direction. Which is probably Reason 23498236 I love this city.
I went to a soccer game in America, and the stadium was packed! My dad and I had season tickets to the Kansas City Wizards (the "Wiz", as they were, back in the day) for a few years in the late 90s, and I've sorely missed the excitement of watching live soccer since then. Watching on TV just isn't the same; you can't see all the movement on the field. You miss out on so much strategy-ogling. And the crowd rowdiness...the bands! The cheering! Those obnoxious long noise-stick-things!
I had an opportunity to watch Croatia play Israel when I was in Zagreb a few years ago...I still don't remember why I let that opportunity pass me by (money, probably?), but it was silly. So to have a big soccer game planted in my front yard is a huge deal! And I mean that front-yard bit almost literally; my doorstep is in within walking distance of Qwest Field = no pesky $30 parking fees for me! Although apparently there wouldn't have been any anyway; VW is a sponsor of the MLS and offers VW's complimentary parking at games...what?! Awesome!
But anyway. The point is that Michael and I got $25 tickets (!!!) to the Real Salt Lake vs. LA Galaxy game on Sunday. For those who don't know, the MLS Cup is the Super Bowl of real futbol. The Seattle's MLS-debuting Sounders FC had a great first season, but didn't make it all the way to the Cup - but Seattle won hostmanship (?) of the final game months back. I can't think of a better city, as Seattleites have shown an unbelievable amount of enthusiasm for the sport. Average attendance at Sounders' matches trumps average attendance for both the Kansas City Royals' and the Cleveland Indians' 2009 seasons. Soccer, more popular than baseball, in a US city?
= Reason 23498235 I love this city. As though I needed any more...
The excitement began with the official March to the Match - swarms of screaming soccer fans, all decked out in jerseys and team scarves and painted faces, and a marching band that played renditions of contemporary radio hits. A seriously awesome, and proud, experience to march through Seattle with a bunch of like-minded futbol hooligans!
For our money, the Cup gave us the absolute maximum amount of soccer we could have asked for. The teams had tied the last four times they'd played each other, and this time was no different; after 90 minutes of regulation play, the score was 1-1. After 30 more minutes of over time, the scoreboard hadn't budged. They even managed to tie their first set of shootouts. Finally on sudden death shootouts, Salt Lake proved triumphant. (I won't try to recreate the match itself in writing; I am not a sports writer. Maybe I'll work on it. But not on Thanksgiving Eve.)
Yup, we had a blast. Sure, it was cold, but...the March to the Match warmed us up, and the couple pre-game beers across the street at the local Pyramid Brewery kept us toasty, and the crowd energy was awesome...a few especially rowdy RSL fans behind us swearing their heads off at David Beckham ("God hates you, David Beckham!" - Is that the way Utahn's call it? Ah, I won't let a few bad eggs ruin my entire opinion of a state I otherwise love, but man do I hate bad sportsmanship...)
Otherwise, the game was absolutely fantastic - all I'd dreamed it would be. I can't wait to become a serious Sounders fan in the coming years. Lucky for me, albeit entirely unknowingly, I bought a rain jacket I at Dick's back in Ohio the day I decided officially to move to Seattle, and it is totally in Sounders colors. I was clearly destined to be a Sounders fan.
Michael pulls his hood up to shield himself from the celebratory confetti blasted out in jet streams periodically throughout the game.
My new boots are certainly covering a lot of ground! Michael, in addition to modeling the snazzy Arc'teryx jacket pictured above, is also sporting some of the most awesome hiking boots ever created: the Zamberlan Vioz. Available at REI. Just sayin'.
Also: Qwest Field offers a fantastic view of the skyline:
I'm learning it's hard to go anywhere in Seattle and not have a fantastic view in at least one direction. Which is probably Reason 23498236 I love this city.
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