Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where there is no problem. Except for the fact that many of my faithful few may have stopped stopping by, because there was never anything new.

I am at home. Yes, at 3:52 in the afternoon. It would have been earlier, but I stopped by the rec center after work, for the second time today, determined this time to actually get my run in, and one nine-minute mile later, felt my face pale, and sweat pop out on my temples, and the fish tacos I had eaten two hours before began to swim again. I slowed down to a walk, aware of how far I was from an exit, and focused on breathing nice, deep breaths, and finally eased myself down to the locker room, into my street clothes and coat, and took myself out to the car. By that point, the Alaskan Pollock and black beans and corn salsa had agreed to stay down, so I went to the library, hoping to find something good to read, but the library in Silverthorne really is a tiny little affair, merely an annex to the actual Summit county Library in Frisco, and they did not have any of the books i wanted to read. So now, here i am, in my own cozy house, fire crackling and blowing toasty air past me as I sit on the end of the couch closest to the small circle of warmth. I am still feeling iffy, my head a bit light, my stomach a bit sloshy. I am pretty sure it was not the running that brought it on, because until .85 miles, I was feeling dandy, running tall and strong at 7 mph, hands and shoulders relaxed, stomach in, breathing steady, feeling like I could do this for miles yet. Maybe it was the fish tacos, or maybe a bit of a bug. Who knows.

What I do know is I love it here, in my house on a winter day, feeling not at all alone because the fire is leaping about so happily, the scent of pine and peppermint lingering from the essential oils I burned last night, hitting a bit of aromatherapy, needing a kick of clear-headed, happy energy as I resisted the urge to hit the couch and cleaned and begged Bobby to help me hang blinds over the dining room windows and shuttled two dogs in and out for potty breaks. (Yes, two dogs. We are keeping Raisin while her parents spend three weeks in Peru. They send us facebook messages in between multi-day treks. Must be wonderful.) Pine needle extract and peppermint extract are my two favorite scents, and always get my mood into an upswing, because of, if nothing else, the happy emotions I associate with both scents.

Andy and Raisin are in Raisin's back yard at the moment, leaving my house in a peaceful state of not being torn apart. Although blue shreds of what used to be an amoeba-shaped felt squeaky toy litter the floor, along with splinters of chewed-up firewood, a few bits of the bone we bought Andy several weeks ago, half of a paint roller, and, of course, the Moose, Andy's favorite tug-of-war toy. Two big dogs really are a bit much for us. One smallish Golden Retriever with a big personality fills our house just right. Add a 65 lb black lab, still an overgrown puppy herself at 1 year old, and it bursts at it's chewed-up seams. Having them gone makes me want to curl up and nap, although I am sure I would not sleep. I'd rather write, something I've been too busy to do lately.

I have been on a get-healthy kick this last week, one that I plan to make last through next summer's race season. I may only have one shot at this, since Bobby D will be turning 29 next month. He has always said that by thirty, we should be ready to put childish things behind us and start thinking about a family. And he has been saying it with more regularity the closer he gets. And I agree. But we arent in a place where we can just do that quite yet, finance-wise, workstaff-wise, and maybe not even maturity-wise. We are painfully aware of what a responsibility it is to create another soul and be responsible to guide it into becoming a well-adjusted adult, and how easy it could be to create a tiny little sociopath with just a little indifference, misunderstanding, inconsistancy, and insecurity thrown into the recipe. Hence the reason our marriage has sailed past the seven-year mark, and is well on its way to number eight with nary a thought about adding to the household that is us. But, never before have we set a date that we promise each other to stick to, and to be ready by that date. To try to be in a good place spiritually, mentally, and physically, so that we can create a safe, happy place for someone to start his or her life. That date is next fall. And whatever happens after that date, whether it even is possible to happen for us, we will try to be ready for it. Anyway, back to my original tangent. Race season. Possible last chance. Get healthy.

So, we bought Rec center passes last week. Actually, my kick kick-started on Sunday, when I went snowboarding at the Basin with a girl friend, then she talked me into a Bikram Yoga class that evening. The studio we went to in Breck was lovely, but because of the door opening to the 15 degree winter night outside, it did not get to the full 105 degrees, 40% humidity that one is supposed to do the 26 poses in, so it was wonderful for me, new to yoga as I am, I did not have to push myself, or get overwhelmed by the heat, I merely basked in the soft lighting, scent of sandalwood incense, quiet strains of music, and stretched, and balanced, and twisted, the 90 degree air making my muscles all nice and stretchy, the sweat gathering on me but never soaking me. My legs quivered a time or two, protesting having to support my weight in ways they were not accustomed to, and my balance was rather shaky, but by the time the class ended, I was feeling light and tall and at peace with the world. We drove home on sheet-ice and slush roads, then went out for half-price sushi at Nozawa, the local sushi and teppanyaki place. I came home late that night to Bobby and the dogs, starting to get a bit stiff from the unaccustomed work I had just put my body through, but determined to do it again.

I have never taken advantage of the Rec Center's classes before. I thought I had to pay for them, but this year, I belatedly discovered they are free to pass holders. Plus, it has been a long journey for this little farmgirl to realize that it is okay to take a class. No need to be self-conscious or worry about not being able to do something. No need to worry about my image. Nobody is going to redicule me. It's okay to be singled out. I had to get brave enough to join a mountain bike club first, and ride with it for two years, and find that people less athletic than me do these things and I am not holding everyone back. Then, I took the huge step of entering a race. And again, discovered I didnt suck. And now, with my rec center pass, I have entered a whole new world of fitness community, where I can sweat and grunt and push myself beside others who are doing the exact same thing, feeling the exact same pain, and in that hour or two, we have everything in common. Pilates class once a week. Cycling class up to four times a week, as long as I can be there by 6:00 am (which I haven't managed yet). Yoga every other morning. I am hooked. Especially on the yoga. It is an excuse to actually ease into my day, in a darkened room with a wall of windows framing the Gore Range and it's snowy peaks, washed in early light. An excuse to push all of my manic overthinking out and focus on happy feelings, and the way those feelings affect my body and mind. To visualize, with each deep breath, the values I wish to internalize- peace, joy, love. To close my eyes and breathe deeply and relax, gently manipulating and working my joints, muscles, and tendons, easing them into alignment and strength. And apparently, it works. I show up at my job in a strangely good mood, feeling all warm and glowy, loose-jointed and mellow. And get mocked for being all happy and peaceable, when I am normally full-steam on some rant, tear, path, or tangent from the moment I crash through the door.

Hmm. Now I look at the clock and notice it is 5:30. Where have two hours gone? Since I started this post, Bobby has been here, gathered his own workout clothes, I planned our dinner menu with him, he left for his workout, I got distracted a time or two by other matters, forgot I was blogging and got to googling. And now, I have two very hungry dogs waiting for me on the other side of the Cove. I should go them and feed them. And my mom just called me to chat, I am typing while talking. gotta run...