Crunchy ‘Nanas

I think officially somewhere it says that the August Bank Holiday is the end to summer in England. Well, thank goodness the sun came out for it! Yippee!

Friday afternoon we eco-ran down in Cliff’s End/Pegwell again. We adventured a bit with our return route and came to a dead-end at the disused hover port, but I guess it just meant more training! Yippee!

Without planning it, I did a reverse (mini) triathlon on Saturday. 3k run to calibrate my footpod (finally! When I ordered my heart monitor with footpod, I didn’t realize it would be so hard to find an average American high school with a running track to calibrate the footpod. Silly me. This is England. They don’t have tracks here. Or, if they do they are very well hidden. I needed a room of requirement!) Then a 22k ride to Ramsgate to test my new Italian.

And then I went all out for my open water swim. It was, well, more like an open water float with a paddle and kick or two while relaxing on the inner-tube. (I brought the goggles along for dramatic effect.) I’ve never inner-tubed in the ocean. It was just like Lake Tahoe, only you didn’t have to wait for motor boats to zoom by to get waves. And I don’t believe as cold. It was great. Yippee!

And then Monday we ran from Minnis Bay to Reculver. The sun was shining, but there was a bit of a breeze. Crunchy husband hit a new milestone. He’s never run 7 miles (all at once) before. He did very well. I think it was the cheer from the Ipswich Town fan riding by on his bicycle that kept him going. Or the back wind in the fifth mile. Or the ice cream stand at the finish. Three cheers for Crunchy husband. Yippee!

I am in love with an Italian. It isn’t the first time this has happened. First, there was a pair called Sidi. I took them home and never looked back. Then there was the affair with the borrowed bike called Bianchi. Everything was right about it, it felt perfect and I almost let it into my life completely, except for the issue of its one short-coming. I like to think I am not shallow. But, I was advised (by a Brit), go triple or go home. (Yes, I am a weakling.) So after my second of two tris in the summer of 2003, we parted. I am still a bit heart-broken.

But, today! Today I found a new amore. I took my new sella italia saddle on its inaugural ride. And let me tell you, that puppy knows how to support me and cushion my bony butt in all the right places. I felt a bit guilty leaving my Terry behind on the mountain bike, but I am convinced it was the right thing to do.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza-pie…

Until last night, I hadn’t run in the dark for nearly ten years. On that occasion, my college roommate and I decided to run from West Davis to get ice cream. It was one of those runs instigated by a need not to study and was way harder on the way back, from all the ice cream and knowing that o-chem would be waiting for me when I got back.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon a blog post over at Habang Tumatakbo inviting people to come out for a virtual run. I’ve tried the virtual thing in the past, but I think both of us must admit, we didn’t try very hard. (Maybe we should try harder, Moosey?)  

I had already done my exercising for the day, but the spirit captured me and spurred me to voice my enthusiasm. Plus, they were lacking a European component, so I figured I’d help out. The run was set for 1:30 pm PST, 9:30 pm here, so my participation was contingent on Crunchy husband’s company.  

He wasn’t too impressed at the idea of a run at 9:30 pm. “Come on! We’ll get to use our tour de France reflective arm bands. And I can put on my headlamp and it’ll be fun!” I’m not sure if it was the prospect of glowing in the dark or the thought of having to take me to the hospital when I told him my fall back plan was jumproping in the backyard in the dark if I couldn’t get him to go with me, but he acquiesed.

It was so calm. Yesterday’s rain had eased, and the wind had blown itself away. The air smelled fresh and serene. It was warmer than I expected it to be. We only ran a couple miles around the village, but it was worth it. It’s neat to think that you are “doing something together” with people stretched across the world. That you’re running up and down hills in sleeping England while at the same time others are running on the beaches in the sunshine in California or in the early morning hours in the Phillipines.  

And I only had to push Crunchy husband twice when we passed the pubs, the second of which was showing the England v. Germany game. What a sport!

Sometimes I think England feels like it needs to live up to its reputation as dreary, rainy, and gray. I keep telling it not to feel so much pressure. If it wants the sun to shine, it’s okay. But it is pretty insistent to maintain its drizzly world image.

I was psyched to go running this morning. I was organized and on top of things. It was cloudy, yes, but it would be all right. I threw some stuff into the back of the car and then went back into the house for a quick bathroom stop. Apparently the time was ripe for the clouds to take a pit stop too. When I got back outside it was pouring. But, I thought, hey, it’ll pass. Let’s go out to Minnis Bay anyway. I’ve got a schedule to keep.

It didn’t pass. I sat at my run start for a few minutes waiting, willing the torrents to subside. I don’t mind running in the rain, but this was RAIN. Struggling with the thoughts in my head (the devil sneering, “ha, ha you’re gonna have to run 7 miles on the treadmill today,” the realist knowing I would make it only a half a mile before utter boredom struck and I chucked it in for the snack bar), I finally gave in and resigned myself to the gym. I turned the key in the ignition and the solution hit me. I didn’t have my towel. I can’t use equipment at the gym without my towel. That would just be rude and inconsiderate. So I decided to have lunch and then give the Minnis Bay to Reculver Towers another try.

So in take two, something weird happened. I felt like I was living the movie “Groundhog Day”. I got into the car and it was the same song that was on the radio when I drove out the first time: the Kooks, “She Moves in Her Own Way”. And then the next song came on. Halfway through “You and Your Hand,” the signal died. And when it came back on, it was the Kooks. And then it was Pink. And then I got stuck behind a silver sedan double parking at the exact same spot it happened to me on the first trip to the sea.

However, the movie ended when I got to Minnis. It had stopped raining, the kite surfers were out, and you could even see the towers (my turn around destination) in the distance. And it was an awesome run. Take that treadmill! [Karate chops the air for added effect.] I planned to eco-run on the way back, but there was NO TRASH! (Or, no trash within reasonable collecting reach. I don’t do steep, crazy ditches and the beach is well, too big to tackle with just one bag.) It was really nice to see the path clean!

[Note: yes, I realize I did yoga this morning. I meant to post this last night!]

I am honored to announce a special guest appearance over at the highly amusing and always entertaining Cranky Fitness site. Now if only I could be lounging peacefully in the image that Crabby McSlacker has put up into the post rather than fighting a battle of wills with the rains in England…

Yes, you can still get sunburned if it’s cloudy! Wear your sunscreen, everyday!

And no, I probably won’t take up writing in the third person at Crunchy ‘Nanas. I have to admit, it was outside my comfort zone. I’ll leave that to the experts!

In running literature, you will find no shortage of chafing horror stories. You’ve got your nipple chafing and rubbing between the thighs and other extremely sensitive and inconvenient places. You’ve got your first chafe experiences and long-term struggles against friction and its after-effects.

I am not sure where my story falls. I am hoping it doesn’t fall into the “um, I’ve never heard of that. How on earth did you manage that one?” genre. But on this, I am not optimistic.

Yesterday, after our soggy 6 mile run, which we completed nearly quicker than our 5 mile run in France last weekend!, I hopped into the shower. As one who is smelly and waterlogged from running during the “summer” in England is eager to do, I jumped right in. And do you want to know the first thought in my head as I ducked myself under the stream of steamy water? Well, it was this: Oh my god, what IS that? Someone must have slipped me something and tried to convince me to break my no unnatural holes policy.

I looked down and not only was my tummy hole-free, just as it’s been my whole life, but there was no redness, no scratch, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I continued on with the scrubbing and singing.

Today, it clicked. I bent over for further investigation. The inside, inside!, of my belly button had chafed on our run. Now, I don’t have a complete innie, but I don’t have a total outie either. I am more of an innie-outie kind of girl. But, apparently outie enough.

Lesson learned: when the forecast calls for rain, I’m rubbing myself head to toe with Bodyglide. Just in case. You never know where the chafe’s gonna strike.

“So am I. But, I can do the merengue.”

“They’re not playing the merengue.”

“They will.”

I wasn’t allowed to watch “Dirty Dancing” when it was first released. And when I finally remembered to watch it when I was an adult, I was kind of like, um yeah, okay whatever. I haven’t seen it since. However, I’ve probably seen “My Blue Heaven” 1,564 times. Just a guess. It was on the other night, and I am proud to say I’ve still got it. All the lines. Memorized. Right here. I can’t remember my age half the time. But, yes. I’ve still got “I don’t know, the pressure of Halloween. You never know what to go as!” all right here. Hot!

Tonight was taco salad night. We love taco salad night. And burrito night. We have a lot of those too. We buy Corona that was brewed in Belgium, probably (better than food miles from Mexico, right?) and avocados. I love avocados. And then we turn up the music really loud. Probably none of which is technically merengue, but well, we do it anyway. (And truth be told, what we do is not strictly merengue, but a mish-mash of latin freestyling with some shimmies, kicks, and a few strums on the air guitar thrown in because they’re fun. We feel it works. But, we don’t do it in public either. And when I say we, I actually think it’s just me.)

And then I yell at Crunchy husband for the thousandth time, “Ozomatli might very well shop at Safeway, but that’s NOT WHAT THEY’RE SAYING!!”

1. Chango- Ozomatli
2. La Sonidera- Los de Abajo
3. Lola, Lola- Ricky Martin (oh come on, when you’re getting down in the kitchen, everyone loves Ricky)
4. Tímido- Ozomatli
5. Oye Mamacita- Los Lonely Boys
6. Mi Candela- Los de Abajo
7. Miss America- David Byrne
8. 3 Cool Cats- Ry Cooder
9. I Will Be Free- Nil Lara
10. I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For- Coco Freeman featuring U2

Yeah, I know it’s not Monday here yet. But it’s Monday in Australia. So that’s my story.

And I promise the next post I submit will not start with a quote. Or a series of quotes.

“I have never done a 10k or 12k race.”

“Whatever, liar! Sure you have. Haven’t you?”

“Nope.”

“Bay to Breakers?” No. “Bridge to Bridge?” No. “Wharf to Wharf?” No. “Anything to anything?”

“Nope. I’ve done the Run for the Seals, the Tree-athlon, and the run in Dublin.”

So, as you can see, we have firmly established that the upcoming Paris-Versailles 10-miler is the longest race Crunchy husband has ever trained for. So three cheers for Crunchy husband! He is very determined. He did very well on the ups and downs of last Sunday’s 5 mile run through various sleeping villages in Normandy. (The guys standing at our finish were a bit puzzled at why we kept running tiny laps around the panorama de la Seine, but we reached our destination 200 yards shy of our 5 mile goal, and when we say 5 miles, we mean 5 miles.)

It was a good run. Freddy the French cat’s owner threw in some hills to give us a good workout. I think we are on our way to being okay for the race at the end of September. Plus, we got to say “Bonjour!” to the few people out walking their dogs. Which I totally got a kick out of, for some reason. Have I mentioned I am inclined toward simple pleasures? However, I think I need to learn some calming phrases for the crazy loner dogs that stand motionless in the middle of the road staring at you until right as you start to pass them, and then they bark and salivate like they’ve been kept starving and you’re the first “food” they’ve seen in two years.

I hate dogs off leashes. Or, I hate unpredictable dogs that look as if they’d love to rip the flesh from your calves and gnaw at your tibia while you struggle on the ground, racking your brains for the French for “help! help! I’m a good person and I’m being eaten alive by Lassie” off leashes. (I also am not a big fan of dogs off leashes on cycle paths. But that’s another story.)

I offer, as evidence that we made it past crazy loner dog in the middle of the road, this photo showing all calves and limbs intact. And smiles! We smile when we run! Hooray!

“Did you know that crabs have two willies?”

Why yes, yes I did. But thank you for sharing your knowledge with us you adorable, tow-headed little boy. Gold star for you!

It’s been a busy, fun few weeks. I’ve spent some time volunteering at “Seashore Safaris” with the Thanet Coast Project and Kent Wildlife Trust. They were an absolute blast. It’s amazing what you find out there when you’re looking. Shore crabs, edible crabs, velvet swimming crabs, broad-clawed porcelain crabs, which are not crabs at all but relatives of squat lobsters. Molting crabs, baby crabs and crabs making babies. Compass jellyfish, starfish, anemones, prawns, barnacles, limpets, mussels and winkles. It was great, except for the moment when the kid who was way old enough to know better grabbed my booty and stood there grinning mischievously when I looked around at him. And his mom just laughed. Way to to teach your son to respect women, lady.

And can I say, whoever says the Channel is unattractive, needs to come out here now and take another look. The Channel and North Sea waters have shown the most extraordinary colors lately. Depending on the tide and cloud cover, I’ve seen bands ranging from deep blue to green to light, tropical blue. Sometimes all at once, like a sea-striped rainbow bending along the golden shore. It’s been amazing.

On Friday, we jumped on a ferry and crossed these enchanting waters to France. We had a relaxing weekend lounging by the pool, listening over breakfast to the neighbor slaughtering one of their cocks and the subsequent panic in the coop, taking in the market and having our feet attacked and our faces bitten in the night by two little sweeties called Freddy and Chester. Man, I miss having a cat.

We also caught ‘La cathedrale de Monet aux pixels‘, a light show projected onto the cathedral in Rouen. And ate way too rare meat. And survived. So far. We didn’t, however, buy any pizza from this machine. First wine in boxes, then cuisine out of a hole in the wall on the street. Are the French changing their ways?

I brought home some cheese and the pool boy. Except, he shaved his beard off. His face is bald now. Boo!

I’m sorry blog. I know you’ve been lonely. But, it’s been a pretty crazy week. And now we’re off to France. And we’ll even see some friends if I can find the long and detailed directions to their house. (I don’t know what’s happened. I am usually so organized.) Or, maybe we’ll just wing it. That’s always fun. There was something about a sign for an airport. If only I could remember whether we were supposed to follow that way, or not.

Yes, we will work in some running around cheese, wine, and lounging by the pool.

I promise.