Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where your blogger is trying to work up the energy to go for a six mile run. Maybe today will be the day. I have been holding at 3 miles lately, did 4 1/2 miles day before yesterday, and today, I want to find some sort of mental strangth that will push me past the intense bordom that forces me to focus on every twinge of sideache, every twitching leg muscle and makes me believe I am tired, just can't do another mile, when in truth, I have many more left in me.
It's boring because it's at the rec center. Eleven times around the indoor track makes one mile. I hold down my fingers to count- left hand pinkie, one. Ring finger, two. Middle finger, three. Index finger, four. Thumb, five. Switch hands, right hand thumb, six... and so on. We'll see if tonight I can make it sixty-six times around the track. My record is forty four without stopping.
We are in the home stretch at work. Six days from today, Keystone Resort will shut down for the spring. Today was my last actually busy day, and I am home fairly early because of the mad rush guests requesting early check-ins put me in for the five hours I can bill for. For the next week, I will still be working, but my pace will slow from the manic one it has been for the last month. My last day off was 26 days ago. And in 6 days, I get to take another one. I honestly don't know what to do with a day that I simply don't go to work. Whatever will I do with myself? Most likely, I will squander it, and before I know it, it will be about the time that I normally get home from work, and I will look around me and realize that it was no more fulfilling of a day that one spent at work.
It has been so long since I last posted, and I could recount a lot of details, but I get bored myself reading that sort of thing. We can fast-forward and still hit the highlights.
Painted another snowboard, for a liftie and his girlfriend who wanted an authentic Keystone souvenir from their winter in the mountains. Went to the tax accountant. Took the dog to the vet. Snowshoed with Heather, Marci, and Andy. Had a few beautiful days. Sunbathed on my front deck with a book and ignored the chilly breeze. Used my new pressure cooker for the first time, and in about ten minutes, turned a sweet potato to mush. Bobby put his snowmobiles, snowmobile trailer, and shiny red pickup on craigslist. 18 hours later, sold the pickup. Gulped. No more pickup, but able to afford taxes (having to pay self-employment taxes for the first half of the year, before we set up an s-corp. Shoulda done that years ago.) Enjoyed having only three vehicles in the driveway. Picked up an entire trash can full of dog poop. Bought a new pooper scooper. Booked a "medical tourism" vacation in Cancun, to get an opinion on B's wisdom teeth. Tried to get somebody, anybody, to go with us. Gave up and booked a one bedroom for the two of us, since apparently nobody can go to Cancun when the lodging is free. Marci's pickup developed serious steering issues, on top of its other issues. Sold her the 4-Runner. Bought a green Toyota Tundra with lots of miles. Went to Boulder to pick it up. Car developed issues driving it back- almost didn't make it up the pass and through the tunnel. Stopped at the gas station, only to realize that three of the Tundra's tires were extremely low, and one was completely flat. Followed Bobby to the tire shop in an out-of-gas Jeep, then went to the gas station and could not find the key to the locking gas cap. B searched high and low while I waited at the office, found it, and I eased the Jeep, now running on fumes, to the gas pump. Rolled our eyes at the irony that out of five vehicles in the driveway (the red pickup still sits here, waiting for it's new owner to come pick it up) not a single one of them was driveable. Woke up one morning and my wedding ring was not on my finger. Still looking. Made B promise to never buy me anything ever again, because every sentimental, shiny thing he gives me, I lose and have to go through feelings of embarrassment, feeling like I betrayed him, of not being worthy of pretty, shiny gifts. Winter moved back into the county. The wind blew like it had something to prove. I listened to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole to drown out the howling and banging. Andy got no exercise because nobody had the mental fortitude to face horizontal snowflakes to take him out. We bought rec center passes for the month of April to help us get in shape for mountain biking this spring. I downloaded a couch-to-10-k coaching program on my ipod to help me. I weighed myself and make the startling discovery that I weigh as much now as I did working the night shift at the Leoti Hospital, when all we did was eat all night and I never exercised. Started doing yoga again, following a dvd filmed in Maui. Got taken by an April Fool's joke, but then played a succesful one on the perpetrator that involved official jargon and scary looking paperwork, until further reading revealed it could in no way be serious.
And now, here we are, in the last week of the Season. In truth, Thanksgiving does not seem that long gone. That is, until I start remembering all the individual, crummy, stressful days that happened between November and April. Then I want to run and hide, because the countdown to next ski season is starting in three, two, one... and we have one more to survive before we are free to go anywhere else. One more month of deep cleans, one more six months of summer long-term rentals who don't pay and trash the units, one more two months of inventories, purchasing, carpet cleans, dry cleaning, one more thanksgiving rush, one more Christmas/New Years, one more January/February accordian season where we are empty midweek and get slammed on the weekends, one more President's day rush, one more spring break. One more season of night riding with friends, bluebird days and slushy snow, powder days and runs stolen in the middle of my workday, when I try to disquise the fact that I am out of breath and the wind is blowing in the phone when I answer it. One more summer of mountain biking under towering pine trees and through rivulets of running water. One more fall filled with glorious color, aspen leaves littering the rocky ground like a shipwreck of gold coins across an ocean floor. One more chance to really Become- hardcore, a mountain biker, a runner, a mountain climber, whatever it is that I want to be able to say, someday, that I was. One more never-ending mud season. One more windy, miserable April, when the rest of the country is seeing daffodils and green shoots of grass and all we see is more sideways snow. One more year with the fiercely loyal friends we've made. One more spring and fall punctuated by trips to Fruita and Moab for the most epic mountain biking around. Hmm, not all of those were bad things. If fact, there is a chance, and not a small one, that I will spend the rest of my life missing some of those things after we leave the mountains.
And now, after a long phone conversation with my mother, a trip outside with Andy (during which his mama told him to "Go poop" and he promptly stopped sniffing and squatted- was that just coincidence?) and writing this blog, I am not feeling at all like the rec center. Perhaps it can wait until tomorrow. Morning. Tomorrow morning. If I wait until the afternoon, I may run out of steam again. But if I only put it off 14 hours, it won't count that I skipped today.
So faithful few, here's to "one mores". May we enjoy them and take them not for granted.
It's boring because it's at the rec center. Eleven times around the indoor track makes one mile. I hold down my fingers to count- left hand pinkie, one. Ring finger, two. Middle finger, three. Index finger, four. Thumb, five. Switch hands, right hand thumb, six... and so on. We'll see if tonight I can make it sixty-six times around the track. My record is forty four without stopping.
We are in the home stretch at work. Six days from today, Keystone Resort will shut down for the spring. Today was my last actually busy day, and I am home fairly early because of the mad rush guests requesting early check-ins put me in for the five hours I can bill for. For the next week, I will still be working, but my pace will slow from the manic one it has been for the last month. My last day off was 26 days ago. And in 6 days, I get to take another one. I honestly don't know what to do with a day that I simply don't go to work. Whatever will I do with myself? Most likely, I will squander it, and before I know it, it will be about the time that I normally get home from work, and I will look around me and realize that it was no more fulfilling of a day that one spent at work.
It has been so long since I last posted, and I could recount a lot of details, but I get bored myself reading that sort of thing. We can fast-forward and still hit the highlights.
Painted another snowboard, for a liftie and his girlfriend who wanted an authentic Keystone souvenir from their winter in the mountains. Went to the tax accountant. Took the dog to the vet. Snowshoed with Heather, Marci, and Andy. Had a few beautiful days. Sunbathed on my front deck with a book and ignored the chilly breeze. Used my new pressure cooker for the first time, and in about ten minutes, turned a sweet potato to mush. Bobby put his snowmobiles, snowmobile trailer, and shiny red pickup on craigslist. 18 hours later, sold the pickup. Gulped. No more pickup, but able to afford taxes (having to pay self-employment taxes for the first half of the year, before we set up an s-corp. Shoulda done that years ago.) Enjoyed having only three vehicles in the driveway. Picked up an entire trash can full of dog poop. Bought a new pooper scooper. Booked a "medical tourism" vacation in Cancun, to get an opinion on B's wisdom teeth. Tried to get somebody, anybody, to go with us. Gave up and booked a one bedroom for the two of us, since apparently nobody can go to Cancun when the lodging is free. Marci's pickup developed serious steering issues, on top of its other issues. Sold her the 4-Runner. Bought a green Toyota Tundra with lots of miles. Went to Boulder to pick it up. Car developed issues driving it back- almost didn't make it up the pass and through the tunnel. Stopped at the gas station, only to realize that three of the Tundra's tires were extremely low, and one was completely flat. Followed Bobby to the tire shop in an out-of-gas Jeep, then went to the gas station and could not find the key to the locking gas cap. B searched high and low while I waited at the office, found it, and I eased the Jeep, now running on fumes, to the gas pump. Rolled our eyes at the irony that out of five vehicles in the driveway (the red pickup still sits here, waiting for it's new owner to come pick it up) not a single one of them was driveable. Woke up one morning and my wedding ring was not on my finger. Still looking. Made B promise to never buy me anything ever again, because every sentimental, shiny thing he gives me, I lose and have to go through feelings of embarrassment, feeling like I betrayed him, of not being worthy of pretty, shiny gifts. Winter moved back into the county. The wind blew like it had something to prove. I listened to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole to drown out the howling and banging. Andy got no exercise because nobody had the mental fortitude to face horizontal snowflakes to take him out. We bought rec center passes for the month of April to help us get in shape for mountain biking this spring. I downloaded a couch-to-10-k coaching program on my ipod to help me. I weighed myself and make the startling discovery that I weigh as much now as I did working the night shift at the Leoti Hospital, when all we did was eat all night and I never exercised. Started doing yoga again, following a dvd filmed in Maui. Got taken by an April Fool's joke, but then played a succesful one on the perpetrator that involved official jargon and scary looking paperwork, until further reading revealed it could in no way be serious.
And now, here we are, in the last week of the Season. In truth, Thanksgiving does not seem that long gone. That is, until I start remembering all the individual, crummy, stressful days that happened between November and April. Then I want to run and hide, because the countdown to next ski season is starting in three, two, one... and we have one more to survive before we are free to go anywhere else. One more month of deep cleans, one more six months of summer long-term rentals who don't pay and trash the units, one more two months of inventories, purchasing, carpet cleans, dry cleaning, one more thanksgiving rush, one more Christmas/New Years, one more January/February accordian season where we are empty midweek and get slammed on the weekends, one more President's day rush, one more spring break. One more season of night riding with friends, bluebird days and slushy snow, powder days and runs stolen in the middle of my workday, when I try to disquise the fact that I am out of breath and the wind is blowing in the phone when I answer it. One more summer of mountain biking under towering pine trees and through rivulets of running water. One more fall filled with glorious color, aspen leaves littering the rocky ground like a shipwreck of gold coins across an ocean floor. One more chance to really Become- hardcore, a mountain biker, a runner, a mountain climber, whatever it is that I want to be able to say, someday, that I was. One more never-ending mud season. One more windy, miserable April, when the rest of the country is seeing daffodils and green shoots of grass and all we see is more sideways snow. One more year with the fiercely loyal friends we've made. One more spring and fall punctuated by trips to Fruita and Moab for the most epic mountain biking around. Hmm, not all of those were bad things. If fact, there is a chance, and not a small one, that I will spend the rest of my life missing some of those things after we leave the mountains.
And now, after a long phone conversation with my mother, a trip outside with Andy (during which his mama told him to "Go poop" and he promptly stopped sniffing and squatted- was that just coincidence?) and writing this blog, I am not feeling at all like the rec center. Perhaps it can wait until tomorrow. Morning. Tomorrow morning. If I wait until the afternoon, I may run out of steam again. But if I only put it off 14 hours, it won't count that I skipped today.
So faithful few, here's to "one mores". May we enjoy them and take them not for granted.
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