Philadelphia Half Marathon: The 13.1 mile fun run

This is a half-marathon that almost didn't happen.

I signed up for this race because it was the day after my association's annual convention ended, and I thought it might be fun. I also realized that it was a late-season race that was well into my grad school semester, which might make training challenging--and it was. I fell down on my training in the face of multiple school projects, and I really debated whether I should run the race because I felt seriously undertrained. Then, of course, there were some benefits to being undertrained, as some of the aches and pains that I'd been experiencing faded away. But there was another unanticpated challenge: walking about 3 miles for three days in the convention center with professional footwear. My feet were really sore and felt like they were developing blisters and my legs felt like they were developing shin splints.

My husband came up to Philly and we enjoyed ourselves, carbo loading at a nice Italian place. Frankly, I think he just enjoyed spending some quality time with me! He ran the Rothman 8K the day before, the first run after the Marine Corps Marathon several weeks earlier. They started the race by playing the theme song to Rocky, which got my husband off to a really fast start and a PR.

My race was the next day. I still couldn't believe I was going to run 13.1 miles! The race was an opportunity to upgrade my winter running attire and I had a new Sport Hill top that was both cute and very practical with a zippered pocket in the back.

We headed over to the race start in darkness and I walked around and warmed up and then got into the corral. This was the largest race I've ever been in, and somehow it never dawned on me how long it would take for my race to get started--I didn't cross the starting line until a half hour after the gun went off. The sun was up now and it was a beautiful cold fall day.

My whole goal was to keep running until mile 10. I knew that if I could get to that point without major pain, I could finish. I started conservatively, setting an easy pace.

I've run the Baltimore half-marathon twice, so to me, despite what the race elevation chart said, the course seemed flat except for a 2-mile stretch between miles 8 and 10 which was pretty much a long uphill climb. People started walking, but I was determined to power through and keep on running.

I really enjoyed running through the streets of Philadelphia and seeing all of the homes and businesses in the different neighborhoods. The crowds were very supportive. Around mile 6, I felt like eating a Shot Block, but decided to wait, but at mile 7 my hand reached in my back pocket. I had another at mile 8. Then, at mile 9-10 there was Gu. I normally hate the taste and texture of gels, but decided to try it. The vanilla Gu wasn't that bad. I washed it down with a sip of water or gatorade at every stop. By the time I got to the band playing at mile 10 in Fairmount Park, I was amped up on all the Shot Blocks, gel, and gatorade and I was feeling pretty good.

I decided it was time to play the passing game and began to pass people as I headed to the finish. And at about mile 12, I was really ready for the race to be over and began looking for the place where the marathoners split from the half marathoners. At the very end of the race, we headed out of the park and back into the city toward the finish line and I was done.

The whole race was really well organized. After the finish line, runners went into a chute where they received post-race food and drinks and could pick up their bags, and there were no lines.

I finished about 3 minutes slower than a previous HM on a much hillier course. I was really glad that I ran the race. Sometimes, just being in the game is what counts.

The Highs and Lows of Multisport

My goal was to get back into a regular fitness routine before the semester started because its so much easier to maintain a fitness routine and add academics to it, than the other way around. I didn't race this summer because I didn't want any comparison between this year and last, when I had a stellar season. Instead, I picked out two events in August that were more about fun and less about competition.

Purple Swim

This year, Purple Swim in Baltimore offered both one and two mile swims (and participants could swim both events for a total of three miles), so I signed up for the one-mile swim. The event raises money for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network and I wanted to donate in honor of my co-worker Kate Thaxton who died of pancreatic cancer on June 6, 2010. She was 37 years old. I didn't know Kate that well, but followed her battle with cancer through news from co-workers and her blog. A lot of people will give you the big blowoff, but not Kate. She welcomed everyone in her life and when I sent a friend request on Facebook, she accepted.

In pictures of the event from the previous year, I noticed that about half of the participants were wearing wetsuits. I'd gotten a new wetsuit as a birthday present from my husband, and of course I wanted the occasion to wear it. I worried that the wetsuit wouldn't fit right because I'd lost several pounds earlier this year, but a friend said that unless I was planning to break an Olympic record, the suit would fit fine. Everyone encouraged me to try it out, but I felt self-conscious. Finally, on the last night of practice before the swim, I brought the wetsuit and tried it on. No one batted an eye. An experienced triathlete walked into the changing room while I was wriggling into the wetsuit, but to my relief, said nothing. The suit fit fine. It made swimming easy because it kept the whole body buoyant, and all I had to do was move my arms and kick a bit. The buoyancy was a drawback, however, because it made it more difficult to do breaststroke which I use to orient myself in open water.

In the end, I never wore the wetsuit. The air temperature quickly pushed into the upper 80s and the water was warm, and it just seemed to warm to be encased in neoprene. Only about a fourth of the swimmers wore wetsuits.

The swim went great. I'd been warned of a current that made swimming slow, so I decided to wear a watch so that if I seemed to get bogged down while swimming against a current, I could look at the watch and remind myself that I was still moving along. But the event organizer changed the course this year and we rounded buoys, making a 4-sided figure. I loved approaching one buoy, going around it, sighting the next and swimming towards it. This made the swim go fast and broke it down into several goals that I could meet and exceed.

My husband asked me if I had any particular strategies for the swim. I confess that I had none. I don't have an abundance of open water experience. My goal was not to get too winged out by anything: the taste or feel of the water, the plant life, and accidental contact. My major goal was to get into a swimming groove and keep up a strong stroke while using my sighthing skills. And, for the most part, I did this and felt that I gave a good effort. I'm typically a mid-pack athlete, and I was a wee bit disappointed to find myself in the bottom fourth of the swimmers for the 1 mile swim, with a time of 44:22.

My son brought his girlfriend and they swam in the water afterward and we all enjoyed a picnic lunch. We watched the two mile swimmers come in, and then we watched the dogs swim. It was a perfect day.

Eat a Peach Ride

The following Saturday, I headed up to Westminster for the Eat a Peach ride. It was a day that started out bad, and got worse. I was driving on the highway halfway to the Caroll County Agricultural Center when I noticed another car with a bike rack and spotted the spotted the seatpouch, which carries extra tire tubes, CO2, and the like. That's when I remembered that I'd forgotten to put my seat bag back on my bike after washing it last weekend. If my tire popped, I'd be entirely dependent on the SAG wagon to get to me. I couldn't believe I'd made such a stupid mistake.

The event was much bigger than I'd imagined and when I got there shortly after 7 a.m., there already were plenty of bikers parked on the grass. By the time I'd gotten my number, clarification about the flag system of marking the route, and my gear organized, it was 8 a.m. when I set out.

The ride started out good and I proceeded down Salem Bottom Road out of the town of Westminster. There were many rolling hills and I was encouraged by my ability to get up the hills. When I was confused about which direction to take, I got out my map, but others came up behind me and we figured out the way.

Things began to change when I turned onto Rt. 26 Liberty Road. I wasn't seeing as many yellow flags on the side of the road and when I passed a sign saying that I was in the next county, I began to have more doubts. My bike computer showed 14 miles and my cue sheet told me to take a turn at the 12 mile mark. I circled back, but then saw two riders going the way I'd been going, so I circled back to follow them, thinking that they couldn't be wrong. Soon, all three of us were having the same doubts.

Miraculously, a SAG wagon pulled up within minutes to steer us back to the course. We took a shortcut back to the route by going up Buffalo Road (part of the century and 40-mile route) and then taking a left to Barnes Road. Getting lost rattled me. I'd gone 2-3 miles out of my way and I was a bit more tired than I wanted to be on a hilly route this early in the ride. I rode along with the two other riders, a young couple who were strong riders, until we got to the rest stop at the 18 mile mark, which was a welcome sight. The ride promised two rest stops, but I hadn't seen the first. It really didn't matter, though because I and most other riders brought snacks.

After this, I caught up to a rider who was a strong, young dude with attire indicating that he was with a local cycling club. We were on very narrow country roads now. Many of the roads were not well marked and we were dependent on sighting flags to guide the way.

In one bad moment, I found myself on a very steep, short hill right before Sams Creek Road. I'd made a tactical mistake and was in a gear that was too high. I lacked the strength to get up the hill and couldn't get out of my clips, so I avoluntarily tipped my bike so I could walk up the hill. The other rider didn't look back, but didn't leave. I skinned my knee, but promptly got back on the bike.

Several miles later, the young dude popped his tire. I was planning to wait, but he pulled out a spare tube, said that he had the SAG number and walked away. I rode onward and was lonelier than I wanted to be on a group ride. The scenery was beautiful and at one point, I was on a cliffhanger road overlooking open farmland, rolls of grass, and big open sky. I rode past cows in pastures and a crumbling barn. The middle part of the ride didn't have as many hills. But that changed toward the end.

At about the 28 mile mark, I spotted a stone near the side of the road near a turn on the route, got off my bike, and decided that I needed a snack and gobbled down almost an entire bag of energy chews. A rider with zip wheels flew past me up the hill. Not me. I began to walk some of the steeper hills. The younger dude who'd stopped to change his tire caught up to me and passed me as I walked.

We got close to the end, speeding down a hill toward a stoplight at the intersection of Rt. 27--only to see that the route heads straight upwards on a huge hill. Wicked!! The stronger riders rode up the hill, but there were a good number of people--including me--who walked up the hill.

I was glad to reach the finish. I enjoyed the post race food and some conversation. Then I went into the agricultural center to the Eat a Peach festival and bought some pear bread, red raspberry jam, and an old fashioned kitchen towel that hangs over the oven handle. Of course, I helped myself to several ripe, juicy peaches!!

Then I went home and shed a few tears. I've never been disappointed in my performance in an event, and this was a first. I was disappointed that I tipped my bike and disappointed that I'd walked the hills. My future goals involve riding hilly routes, and I couldn't even get through 33+ miles of hills. Most likely, I need a deeper base with cycling, more hill climbing experience, and better technique. But I also thought back to where I started and I've come a long way. For my first triathlon, I specifically chose one that was flat and wimped out of signing up for a triathlon held in Carroll county after driving the bike course. I've come a good distance--but I have a ways to go.

* * *

I'm in better shape now, and in an endorphin rush, I'm fighting the urge to sign up for a Big Event. I read an article in The Washington Post magazine about someone who has a busy job as a project manager for a big highway construction project. She recently completed an Ironman. She gives me the inspiration that a busy life doesn't necessarily preclude big athletic goals. For me, only time will tell as I balance schoolwork with the desire to maintain a base over the winter.

* * *

Here are some hill climbing tips that I'll be thinking about on my next ride:

Hill Climbing Technique

• Gear selection is important—this comes with experience. Experienced cyclists shift gears all the time to achieve the right cadence, about 70-80 rpm. Some athletes use a higher or lower cadence. Get into a good rhythm!
• Get into rhythm at bottom of hill and gain momentum. Don’t attack too hard. Get into a good pace—don’t get anaerobic. Get into your groove. Hit the sweet spot. When you bog down, shift gears or stand up.
• Sitting is the most efficient way to climb—scoot back in the saddle to use your hamstrings or glutes. Then scoot forward to give those muscles a rest. Shift position frequently, especially on longer hills. Can sit at a 45 degree angle or sit more upright to use different muscles.
• Don’t tense up--drop your shoulders. Relax your jaw. Wiggle your fingers. Synchronize our breathing. Place your hands on the top of the bars. Push your stomach out. Hands are relaxed so you don’t waste energy. The more still you are, the less energy you use.
• Pedal with an ankeling style—pull back on the 6 to 9 o’clock part of the stroke.
• Stand up—don’t lose momentum. When one pedal goes down, shift your weight onto it and pop up. Standing is less efficient, but important because you generate more power. Stand when the pitch gets steeper. Let gravity work for you. Feel like you’re standing out of a chair. Pull up on your handlebars. Then resume seated position; go get back into your grove.
• Pick up the pace during the last 20% of the hill as you crest the hill and get over the top. Recover only when you go down.

IT TAKES PRACTICE!

Tips compiled from videos by Troy Jacobson and Bill Strickland

IG Dress Rehearsal

Every, once a year, Columbia Triathlon Association hosts an IronGirl dress rehearsal and allows people to do a practice swim in the lake. I didn't get into the race this year because registration closed unexpectedly quickly - just a day or so after it opened. I volunteered this year as a swim buddy, to swim with someone who might be hesitant or unsure about the swim. Frankly, I was just looking for an excuse to swim in the lake for some open water swim practice.

I admit I had a preconceived notion of who might request a swim buddy. To my surprise, I was matched with someone who was slightly younger than I who was thin and fit. She explained that she was doing IG as a relay with two other women, and I envied the friendships that made it possible. She wanted to do the swim because she wanted the "full experience." I knew she might be thinking about doing the full race herself one day.

The similarities between us were uncanny. We had the same name. She wore a swimsuit that is almost exactly the same as mine. She had tri shorts that are nearly the same as a pair I have.

As we walked toward the water preparing to get in, I saw her jaw quiver. Was she cold? Or was she scared? I wasn't sure.

In the water, she and I swam side by side. I tried to position myself close to her so that other swimmers wouldn't make contact. I wasn't too sure what to say during the swim, so I pointed out the scenery and offered a few tips. She swam with her head above the water at all times. She swam slow...but then she would surge and I knew that she was strong and fit.

When she got out she was crying. She'd been more scared than she let on and these were tears of joy that she had overcome a fear.

I was haunted by what I didn't tell her: She's a strong swimmer. All she needs is a little more experience and a lot more confidence. But which Susan are we talking about?

The Tipping Point

Although I haven't read the book by Malcolm Gladwell, this blog post is not so much about the spread of ideas as it is about making a decision--and then re-examining that decision in detail and truly deciding that the path taken is the best one.

In my last post, I was seriously thinking about changing graduate programs. I originally was admitted, but not matriculated, into two local MBA programs. Ultimately, I chose a master's in management program. Three weeks into the program, I learned that my preferred degree specialization in marketing was discontinued, so I chose another specialization...only to realize that it wasn't the best fit. The only option to continue with the program would be to pursue an "individualized" specialization--or to switch to another program that offered the preferred specialization.

The programs came calling. An acceptance offer into a grad program gives candidates a year to matriculate--and programs sent out a reminder before the year came to a close. Once again, I made an Excel spreadsheet. The programs that were on top of the list were those that would allow me to transfer at least some credits. I compared the credits-to-degree, cost-to-degree, and time-to-degree. I examined the accreditation and analyzed the curriculum at each program. I debated the relative merits of a local program versus a distance-learning online program. And I read articles such as this one. There are never any right answers to such decisions--all programs have their strengths and weaknesses and any would be a good choice. It is more about making the right choice for myself.

I prepared an application to a school, contacted two references, and once again rounded up my transcripts.

On a whim, I once again looked up possible classes that could be taken to complete the degree and then searched to see if they were offered in fall. I found a class in public relations and one in non-profit marketing and fundraising. Both fit my schedule perfectly. And both were interesting and relevant. This was the tipping point in my decision.

I decided that the best program was the one in which I am enrolled. Why?

• I believe this degree program covers many business topics in MBA programs (exceptions: statistics/math, law, and operations management).
  
• I believe this program will provide me with a well-rounded education (in comparison to an MBA program that offers 5 classes in marketing; 3 general MBA courses, plus undegrad prerequisites).
  
• I believe that my current program will provide me with relevant coursework that will strengthen my background.
  
• I believe the courses in this program will be more fun, interesting, and relevant.
  
• I will have the benefit of classroom instruction that allows me to have a teacher to explain concepts. I might be able to complete courses online, when offered.
  
• The current program can be completed by December 2012 (sooner or later, depending on circumstances) given the completion of 4 classes annually. This allows me to complete the degree around the same time my second child finishes high school.
  
• The degree program is affordable. It is half the cost of the least-expensive business degree.

Most importantly, I would hate to take on a degree program that is so extensive and has so many credits to complete the program that I don't finish. I know all too well that life can happen. I was once about to enter a graduate program. I was in my twenties. And then I got pregnant. I decided to work to support my child and nearly four years later I had a second child. I was satisfied with my job and busy raising my children...but I always wanted to complete my education. At different points in time, I wanted to go in different directions and it was difficult to determine the direction my education should take. I did several different educational pursuits, such as taking continuing education courses and earning the CAE, but what I really wanted was to go to grad school.

Finally, the time is right. I hope that I've made the right decision about my academic program. Most of all, I hope I finish.

Milestone

I finally did it. I went back to the swim team.

I got injured last fall and got busy with grad school and decided to take time off. But the stress of school and lack of sports did me in. All fall, I looked out the window and thought about the leavees turning color on my favorite trail. Then I'd munch on a bag of chips while completing a paper.

At the end of the semester after a long layoff and the addition of a few pounds, I tried to get back into my exercise routine around December and January. I thought about returning to the swim team. I'd pack up my swim bag and put my contact lenses in and tell myself that this was the night I'd return. But then I thought about how slow I'd swim and how humiliated I'd be with my complete lack of fitness, and I just couldn't do it.

I got involved in the biggest loser program at work, met my goal of losing a few pounds, and aced another grad class. I'm now at my "race weight," but still without a fitness base. I've had time to accept reality.

Going back was just as I envisioned. I walked up to the slowest lane, got in, and warmed up. I then realized that I couldn't swim more 100 yards without tiring. I couldn't swim more than 200 yards without a foot cramp. Well, at least my arms are still functional and I did most of the workout with a pull bouy. I called it quits 45 minutes later after trying to kick again and getting more foot cramps. I probably did less than 900 yards.

The one good thing was that everyone was nice and welcoming, regardless of my complete and total lack of fitness.

What are my goals? I don't have any. It feels really weird, but I have no big athletic goals. No race lineup. I signed my husband up for his second marathon, but I knew I'd never have time to train for a marathon, so I didn't sign myself up. Hubby ran a 10K, I stayed home and did homework.

My only goal is to find a new balance between work, grad school, family, and fitness (not necessarily in that order!). And this juggling act may be my biggest challenge yet. I know I'll have to scale down my athletic goals. Maybe I can rebuild a base. And then maybe I can dream.

My New Ride

I'm going to take this blog back to its humble beginnings and talk about some of the things got this bog started in the first place...swimming, cycling, and running. After a long layoff and an ITB injury, I've been slowly trying to get back to the triad, but it's been tough with grad school. When push comes to shove, what will win out? A) sleep, B) homework, C) exercise. (This is a multiple guess question.)

The one thing that I have been enjoying is my weekend rides. My big 2009 Christmast present was a new Specialized Dolce with a compact crank. The picture above was from my first spring ride with the new bike. I feared that my feet would get stuck in the clipless pedals and I would fall in a heap and scratch the bike. Didn't happen! Although I spent little time on the trainer, my feet are at peace with the pedals. I'm having a lot of fun with the newfangled bike, playing with the brakes and the shifters on the handlebars.

I enjoy the anticipation of the rides and investigate new cycling routes on www.mapmyride.com. So what if I'm totally out of shape? If I want to dress up like a cycling fashionista and cruise around the block on the weekend, that should be encouraged. The scenery and the stress relief are priceless.

Lost

Is is dark where you are?

Can you count the stars where you are?

Are you lost where you are?

--Howie Day, Longest Night

Do you ever feel like it's dark and you're lost an unable to look up at the stars to navigate a path through life? I feel like this a lot these days.

I can't figure out my assignment. I know not where I'm going with school. Should I follow my head and stay with my current program with its shorter time-to-degree? But is this program really right for me? Or, should I follow my heart? Should I try to transfer to the program that I rejected? The one with the longer time-to-degree that I keep looking back at over my shoulder?

I'll take a break from that puzzling assignment that I'm stuck on to edit this post to be more revealing and less cryptic. And I welcome suggestions for this situation, dear readers (if anyone reads this).

Last fall I entered a 39-credit master's in management program. Although I never said it on my application, I intended to specialize in marketing. Three weeks after entering the program, I found out that my intended specialization was discontinued. I decided to make lemon aide and choose to stay in the program, with a different specialization.

I'm now taking the first online class in that specialization and I love it a little too much. My advisor warned, "these classes are condensed...the material is taught at a higher level." I find that the higher-level material is stimulating, the condensed time period is manageable, and the students are more mature. While I like the class, but I'm still unsure whether the specialization is right for me. My goal in this journey is to gain knowledge that will be marketable in the workforce. And if the specialization is not right, then the degree looses its value and my time, money, and effort are not well invested.

I made a decision and I take responsibility for that, but I also feel that I am not entirely to blame as I got caught up in a circumstance I never anticipated. Of course I wonder whether I should have faced my fears gone into the MBA program that I turned down with much reluctance. Of course I feel that I should have made different decisions at different junctures.

I've tried very hard to make lemon aide, but it's not tasting good. As I complete 9 credits, I know that I'm crossing the Rubicon, that point of no return. If I go further, I will have too many credits to transfer---and I may very well be at that point now.

What are the options?

• Remain in my current program: Choose between my current specialization ... or the "individualized specialization" (read = just choose 4 classes of interest)
• Choose an MBA program. Choose between a program that will allow me to transfer some credits ... or no credits. Choose between an online program ...or a traditional program.

Maybe some day I'll look to the heavens and see a constellation that will guide me. For now, I'll get back to that homework that's puzzling me.

And here's a truely corny conclusion to this post, my fortune cookie: "You have an important new business development shaping up."

Howie Day 2010 tour

So many things have been influenced by a single vacation.

When I was in Colorado, I rented a Ford Escape (which may be our next car!!) and Ryan and I spent a lot of time driving to places that he liked or that he'd been camping the summer before. Naturally, Ryan needed some tunes to listen to while driving and he put in a CD by Howie Day called "Stop All the World Now." I'd look at the mountains all around and listen to the music of Howie Day.

Immediately after I came home, I went out and bought all the Howie Day's CDs I could find. I went back to the grind of my hour-long commute, listening to Howie's music...visualizing the Colorado mountains and thinking about Ryan.

Not too long after that, I learned that Howie Day was coming to the Birchmere in Alexandria, Va. Watching him play and create the music is just as interesting as listening to his music. It's fascinating to see him hit the electric guitar to create a percussion sound, then use the effects pedals to loop the sound, while playing the guitar. He'll layer the looped sections for a complex and interwoven sound. And his live concerts give him the opportunity to jam and experiment with songs.

Howie Day is in his 20s and I worried that he'd attract a younger crowd and I'd be a middle-aged standout among a crowd of teens and twenties. But I needn't have worried. When we got to the Birchmere I found people of all ages wearing anything and everything. There were the cute twentysomething couples who sat next to us that I envied and the white-haired gentleman a few tables over. The Birchmere features a bar with a sculpture of a gentleman playing a harmonica, and the main room has a chandelier.

In listenig to the concert, I decided to try the hearing aid along with the cochlear implant. I'll come out and say it...This year marks my seventh year with the CI and I'm no longer a hearing aid user. But I dug it out and bought some batteries. At first, I was reminded of everything I dislike about the hearing aid: the feedback and the ill-fitting earmold that didn't bother me nearly so much as when I was wearing it all the time. I decided to wear the hearing aid turned off for a few hours to get used to wearing it, and then turned it on. The acoustic sound gives me a nice bass boost, mainly because that's all I can hear with a hearing aid. The devices have very different and imabalanced sound, but by the end of the concert, I was enjoying the two devices together, and this may be the best (and only) opportunity I have in this life for binaural hearing. Music is best enjoyed in stereo. Of course, you knew that all along...but I'm a late bloomer.

The most surprising thing was that I could understand the lyrics better live than on the CD, even though I'd listed to it many times. The stage lighting made the microphone cast a shadow on his mouth, so lipreading was impossible. My mind kept telling me that I shouldn't be able to understand the lyrics--lyrics were always someting that were nice, but that I counldn't make out unless I memorized the song. But I realized that I was understandng much more of the lyrics and I told my mind to just enjoy them, and so I did. And when Howie Day sang our favorite song, my husband reached over for my hand.

I now have every CD made by Howie Day. I listen to the music and visualize the mountains of Colorado.

I miss you Ryan.

I love you.

Crested Butte 2010

Crested Butte luxury homes.


Ryan skiing along Slate River Road near Crested Butte. In the summer he camps in the valley below. We went for sushi afterward and Ryan said it was a perfect day.


Ryan and Josh at the Crested Butte Chamber of Commerce bust stop on the way to the mountain. There is a free bus that travels from Gunnison to Crested Butte and hitchhiking is allowed.



Ryan goes of a jump at DC Park and Pipe at the top of Painter Boy.

Ryan skiing down the mountain. He was teaching himself to ski backwards as I was learning how to ski forward.

I am afraid of everything.

I was terrified of the prospect of skiing. I didn't know how I would get down the bunny hill. I couldn't fathom skiing for five days. I worried that I would be too cold. I worried that I wouldn't have enough to do during the nine-day vacation. This must be the reason most of my outdoor adventures do not go any further than the pages of Outdoor magazine, which I subscribe to in order to have an active fantasy life. Every year, I have a strong urge to cross country ski around the end of December. Then, I add up the cost of the trip on an Excel spreadsheet and worry that the drive might be hazardous, and quietly wait for the urge to pass. But this year, I was going to have the ski vacation of a lifetime.

I got some $150 ski pants on sale for $75 online in the middle of summer. Then I bought some inexpensive ski gloves, socks and sock liners and a balaclava while Christmas shopping. I took along my winter running gear. I was all set.

It was a wonderful, relaxing time and I can totally understand why Ryan goes to school at Western State College of Colorado. The streets are wide and cars drive slowly, and there's a bike lane. In between Gunnison and Crested Butte, there's a sign that says "bicycles for the next 26 miles." And wherever you look off into the distance around the town--north, south, east, west--there are mountains all around. He took me to all of his favorite camping and fishing spots during the summer. We went cross country skiing on Slate River road near Crested Butte. The scenery was breathtaking. I kept thinking that I would pay big bucks to go to a fancy cross country ski resort to see this view--but it was free. No trail fee was required because this was a dirt road through a state forest that was a cross country ski trail in the winter. People and their dogs cross country skied, and backcountry snowmobilers passed us. We must have skied about 10 miles that day. The trip back was hard and I was tired, but I kept quiet because I didn't want to complain about anything. We topped off the first day of the year by eating at a fancy sushi place.

The next day, I went downhill skiing the very first time. It took me a long time to even ski down to the bunny hill. And it takes a long time to get used to the ski lift. But somehow I got down the slope the first time. I skied once when I was a teenager and then watched e-How videos from the folks at Grisham, Oregon, so I had a vague idea of what to do. Ryan was a pretty patient teacher. He gave me pointers going down the hill. When we were at the bottom, he demonstrated specific skills, and after a day or so, I was doing carving turns. I graduated to Houston, and then went on some of the other green runs.

The highlight was going down the Mineral Point run without falling. I loved going back and forth down the little valley, but the top part, with its steep hill winged me out. At last, I mastered the slope going down to the lift.

Not too longer after my trip, my second son went to a local mountain to snowboard with friends. I knew he'd pick it up easily because he also skateboards and surfs, and he came back a "triple board athlete." Now he wants me to go skiing with him. I have the distinct feeling I'm going to be getting into winter sports!!!!!!

But nothing compares to the Colorado Rockies with real snow, blue skies against white aspens, friendly people, and powder days where people take off the morning to ski. There are the late afternoons where the sun shines on the mountains before sunset.