Hot Baths, a 50k and Naughty Trails

First of all, for the record I have to say that hot bath blogging rocks. Jumping rope. Not so much. There's nothing like lowering yourself slowly into sudsy water that's so hot you almost can't stand it. That really bad day dissolves like salt in the water. That argument you had with your spouse dissolves. The poo you found on the bottom of your kid's shoes and tracked through your house dissolves. Hopefully not in the water YOU'RE soaking in, but you get the point. In fact, there are studies that have shown that feelings of social warmth or coldness can be induced by experiences of physical warmth or coldness. These studies also show that people tend to self-regulate their feelings of social warmth through applications of physical warmth. (Download the study from Yale University) Hmmmm. This must explain why I'm such a catty bitch when I'm standing outside in 30 degree weather, but find me in the bathtub (which you will do often) and I'm a warm and fuzzy kitten.


But back to the subject of jumping rope (AGAIN). I will pause to allow you time to refocus your attention...)


[Pause.]


Are we good?


Good. Moving on...


I'm in mourning. My gym got rid of their jump ropes the other day. The only logical conclusion that can be drawn from this event is that after seeing my multiple thwacks and possible concussion inducing spectacle-ness they consulted legal and determined that jump-ropes (especially for "that barefoot runner girl") should be considered a hazard and should be removed from the gym ASAP. To be honest part of me was doing the no-more-head-thwacking-dance but the other part of me was a tad disappointed. Afterall, jumping rope was a decent warm-up. That is, as long as I could get at least a minute out of it before having to shake the sparkly stars away. So I need to find an alternative warm-up. I like rowing. Rowing, however, has almost proven to be a fail and spectacle as well, but I'll save that little nugget of a story for another post. Maybe.


In other news, I've officially registered for my next 50k race.


The Rodeo Valley Trail Run will probably be one of the most beautiful races I've ran so far. It will be in the Marin Headlands area of San Francisco near the Golden Gate Bridge and has a healthy dose of hills. More than I expected. WAY more than I expected. But, that said, one of the few redeeming factors of this race is that it doesn't look like any hill will be more than two to three miles long, which seems to be the common denominator in most races I run. Its going to be more elevation change than I've ran in any race so far so and I'm curious to see how my body will hang.


Another redeeming factor of this run is that I will be running with some of the usual suspects from the blogosphere. I will finally be meeting Vanessa Rodriguez (a.k.a. Vanessa Runs) and Robert Shackleford (a.k.a. "Shacky"). Being the supersonic ultra runners they are, Shacky and Vanessa are attempting a 50k back-to-back that weekend and will be running a SoCal 50k the day before our NorCal Rodeo Valley run on Sunday. Their ultra weekend attempt might work in my favor as I might be able to keep up for a few miles or at the very least keep their badasses in view from the back of the pack. I'm hoping they'll have a beer cracked and ready for me at the end.


In addition to meeting Vanessa and Shacky I'll be spending the weekend with the rest of the NYC BFR slacker crew Shelly, Jason and Pablo. BONUS! Shelly and Jason Robillard are on their West Coast tour teaching barefoot running clinics and will be running with us on Sunday. And the infamous Pablo (a.k.a. the axe murderer) was nice enough to offer up his home as base camp for our party...er...run on Sunday. I'm looking forward to sharing a few beers with some very inspiring people before and after the run. 


Spring Trails in February
So in preparation for my upcoming run I've gotten my ass out on the trails again. The weather here in California has made winter trail running seem like spring trail running this year (much to the disappointment of my ski bunny alter ego) But, thanks to my husband, I have found some new trails close to my house. My husband's the explorer since he's always trying to find the secret "stoke" to maintain his MTB habit, and since he's picked up running (he's toying with the idea of getting into triathalons) he discovered what he dubs as "magic" literally less than five minutes away. And magic it was. 

There may have been a little sign that might have said "no trespassing" (its a protected open space), but the well groomed single tracks and visible use of the trails say otherwise. I feel a little naughty running on them but I just can't resist.


Trying a new running skirt and rocking the socks





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