April Showers in Santa Cruz:
So pretty. Until next year, April . . .
Adventures with Dog: Hiking in Almaden Quicksilver Park
The other weekend C and I took Buckwheat on a hike through Almaden Quicksilver Park. In Almaden Quicksilver Park there were bushy green trees, fields of waving
grass, vistas of little houses and patchwork hillsides, old mines and
dilapidated buildings and winding paths with wildflowers around almost every corner. There were also mountain bikers (one of which almost his
us while barrelling down a hill), a couple of horses, a handful of trail
runners and of course, other hikers. The park was so big though, that most of the
time it felt like we had it all to ourselves.
Halfway through the hike we stopped and had bagels and lox at a picnic table with a view and felt pretty happy about our choice for the day. Three quarters of the way through the hike, we asked ourselves why we chose to take a 7 and a half mile hike the day after a 10 mile run--our legs were tired and we were ready to be back at the parking lot. But Buckwheat was a happy camper the whole time--trotting from scent to scent, only slowing when he noticed me fall behind to take photos . . .
Halfway through the hike we stopped and had bagels and lox at a picnic table with a view and felt pretty happy about our choice for the day. Three quarters of the way through the hike, we asked ourselves why we chose to take a 7 and a half mile hike the day after a 10 mile run--our legs were tired and we were ready to be back at the parking lot. But Buckwheat was a happy camper the whole time--trotting from scent to scent, only slowing when he noticed me fall behind to take photos . . .
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Labels:
Adventures with Dog,
Buckwheat,
Hiking,
Landscape,
Photography
Those Spring Evenings
Now that the evenings are long again, we can do things like take Buckwheat to the doggie beach after work! The lengthening of the days also allows us to frolic through fields of wild flowers, dig our toes into the sand, meet new poochie friends with names like Ringo (formerly Gringo) and Hazel, sun our freckles and otherwise extend our adventures into later hours . . .
Some iPhone photos from a recent sunny weeknight evening, below:
Wildflowers as High as Your Eyes! |
I'm a Total Sucker for Wildflowers (photo by C) |
Best Buds . . . |
. . . Walking through Light House Field |
To the Water! |
Sun on our Faces |
Toes in the Sand |
Doggie Beach Views |
More Doggie Beach Views |
Good Evening for a Trip to the Beach |
Buckwheat Retreats from the Waves (He's Onto Our Tricks) |
These Two are the Best |
And Spring Evenings are Pretty Great. |
On Running: the Day Before a Race
I love the day before a race. It's a day of both rest and excitement. For me, the pre-race nerves don't really set in until the morning of, so the day before a race is just pleasant anticipation.
In the months leading up to a race, many Saturday mornings are sacrificed to long runs. But on the day before a race, the whole morning is yours again. There are no more miles to log--if you run at all that day (this time we didn't) it's only a mile or two (and it's only at an excruciatingly slow pace). You don't want to strain yourself, so you take it easy. Food is fuel, so you eat well and liberally. You play out the race in your mind and it is straightforward. The next day it won't feel so effortless . . . But luckily, the pain of past races is dulled by the effects of time and memory and for that day before the race, it's still your race to imagine--an easy stride, ideal splits, a strong finish--they all feel very tenable. You put in the training. Your spirits are high.
This last Sunday, I ran the Santa Cruz Half Marathon. I'd covered this distance before--I'd already run three half marathons and one of them was the exact same race two years earlier--but it was also my first race in almost that time (two years). So come Sunday morning, I was sick with nerves. On Saturday though . . . I was still enthusiasm, the race was only speculation and the day was all mine.
Below are some photos from the day before our race:
The day started off with some buckwheat (not the dog) waffles. Then it was down to the Boardwalk to pickup our race packets and take Buckwheat (the dog) for a short stroll along West Cliff. The morning was foggy and things were calm. We watched the surfers watch the waves at Cowell's and then turned around to seek out more food (fuel!).
Back at home, I laid out my race gear and checked the charge on my electronics (because one time I showed up to a race certain that my iPod was charged, only to find it was effectively dead). I browsed the internet and looked up the splits for my goal time. I unfurled on the couch and watched a few shows. I tidied up the condo and futzed around with my half-marathon playlist.
For dinner we loaded our plates with carbs (whole wheat spaghetti and garlic bread) and once we ate those, we went back for seconds. After dinner we went up into the hills to watch the sunset and then on the way home, we stopped for dessert. Really, it was a perfect way to spend the day before a race . . .
. . . the race itself, wasn't so perfect. I went out too fast and then raced too conservatively because I was afraid of dying out before the finish. I set a personal best (1:46:44) but I fell short of my goal time (01:45:00). My stride wasn't easy, my splits were off and my finish wasn't as strong as I'd hoped. But hey, there's always next time!
(I should add that there was a lot that went really well during the race and while I was disappointed that I didn't hit my goal, I was also happy to have run the race so successfully. Most runners are primarily racing against themselves--or at least that's how I feel about it--and in that sense, I was a winner. But now that it's done and my legs aren't feeling weak, I'm itching to break 1:45:00. So despite my "win", I kind of can't wait for my next day before a race!)
In the months leading up to a race, many Saturday mornings are sacrificed to long runs. But on the day before a race, the whole morning is yours again. There are no more miles to log--if you run at all that day (this time we didn't) it's only a mile or two (and it's only at an excruciatingly slow pace). You don't want to strain yourself, so you take it easy. Food is fuel, so you eat well and liberally. You play out the race in your mind and it is straightforward. The next day it won't feel so effortless . . . But luckily, the pain of past races is dulled by the effects of time and memory and for that day before the race, it's still your race to imagine--an easy stride, ideal splits, a strong finish--they all feel very tenable. You put in the training. Your spirits are high.
This last Sunday, I ran the Santa Cruz Half Marathon. I'd covered this distance before--I'd already run three half marathons and one of them was the exact same race two years earlier--but it was also my first race in almost that time (two years). So come Sunday morning, I was sick with nerves. On Saturday though . . . I was still enthusiasm, the race was only speculation and the day was all mine.
Below are some photos from the day before our race:
The day started off with some buckwheat (not the dog) waffles. Then it was down to the Boardwalk to pickup our race packets and take Buckwheat (the dog) for a short stroll along West Cliff. The morning was foggy and things were calm. We watched the surfers watch the waves at Cowell's and then turned around to seek out more food (fuel!).
Back at home, I laid out my race gear and checked the charge on my electronics (because one time I showed up to a race certain that my iPod was charged, only to find it was effectively dead). I browsed the internet and looked up the splits for my goal time. I unfurled on the couch and watched a few shows. I tidied up the condo and futzed around with my half-marathon playlist.
For dinner we loaded our plates with carbs (whole wheat spaghetti and garlic bread) and once we ate those, we went back for seconds. After dinner we went up into the hills to watch the sunset and then on the way home, we stopped for dessert. Really, it was a perfect way to spend the day before a race . . .
. . . the race itself, wasn't so perfect. I went out too fast and then raced too conservatively because I was afraid of dying out before the finish. I set a personal best (1:46:44) but I fell short of my goal time (01:45:00). My stride wasn't easy, my splits were off and my finish wasn't as strong as I'd hoped. But hey, there's always next time!
(I should add that there was a lot that went really well during the race and while I was disappointed that I didn't hit my goal, I was also happy to have run the race so successfully. Most runners are primarily racing against themselves--or at least that's how I feel about it--and in that sense, I was a winner. But now that it's done and my legs aren't feeling weak, I'm itching to break 1:45:00. So despite my "win", I kind of can't wait for my next day before a race!)
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Labels:
Day in Photos,
Food,
Personal,
Running,
Santa Cruz
Holga Roll 7
Photos from my 7th roll of film taken on my Holga:
This roll of film was especially leaky. I'm not sure if it has to do with my method of carrying my Holga (my method being throwing it in the bottom of my over-sized tote along with the rest of the things I carry), how I'm loading and unloading it, the fact that this roll was mostly shot in very bright light or a combination of all three, but I'm liking it. You can't get these light leaks on your iPhone people! (Okay, you kind of can).
Frame 2 - Tree in Arana Gulch |
Frame 3 - Seals and Sail Boat, Santa Cruz Wharf |
Frame 4 - Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk |
Frame 5 - Another Afternoon at Its Beach |
Frame 6 - California Pup |
Frame 7 - West Cliff Walkers |
Frame 8 - Beach Portal |
Frame 9 - Friday Pool Time |
Frames 12 and 11 - Spring! |
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