A Fun Day in the Desert

I woke at 6:15 and got dressed. My gear was kind of organized the night before but I still had to dress, use the bathroom, eat breakfast, fill my flasks and get my act together. I filled my water bladder and attached in into my vest, got my maple syrup and salt flask ready, packed my vest with the things I thought I would need for the day: cheerios, candies, salt tabs, wipes in ziplock, pee cloth, re-suable cup, emergency blanket (I take one everywhere, traveled through Africa with it decades ago.) Sunscreen, lip balm, phone and headphones. Watch. 

I pinned on my bib, gobbled my breakfast, gulped my coffee and my son drove me to the race start. It was pretty low key over there. Everyone is over 50 who's involved in the race. There's a 50k, 50 miler, 100k, 100 miler. The oldest runner is in his 80's. We had a little pep talk, then we head out. 

I am so happy! I've studied the course. I know what I'm going to eat. I am in the desert, my favourite place on the planet. And besides, I labored for so many hours to have my five babies, I can run for 50 kilometers no problem!

The trail goes downhill and then along a sandy patch until we reach two large tunnels that go under the highway. I don't like tunnels at the best of times, but these were the only thing that I dreamed about when I was having anxiety dreams about the race. I got through the tunnel and started my race.

Wait a minute. Why do I feel water dripping down my front? Ok, so a few weeks before the race I was doing one of my long runs and the nozzle of my water bladder froze. I had a note on my list of things to do: dress rehearsal of gear. I was going to put all the gear I was going to use for my race, get it all together and just go for an hour run to final test that everything was working.

I never got to do that dress rehearsal. So in fact, the nozzle from the bladder had not only frozen but also ripped. The damn thing had a hole in it and it was spurting water. I noticed it after the big hill after the tunnel...the front of my running top was wet and water was splashing on my legs. I couldn't have worked up a crazy sweat already.... 

First I put it in my mouth and thought I would have a continual water supply. Note: you can't run with a tube in your mouth. Then I tried blowing air into it to see if that would stop the flow. It didn't. I ran up to a group of friends running together and asked if they could think of any quick fixes. They couldn't. I asked if they wanted to hear a joke: "My water broke! I'm leaking and labor hasn't started yet!". haha. Then for about a mile, I held the tube up to stop the water dripping, then I realized if I bend it, it won't drip. So I took some tape from the course markings, tied it around the bent hose, and stuffed it in my pocket.

All good, except that it meant that I only had my 500 ml of electrolyte mix readily available, and I didn't want to mess around untying tape every time I wanted to drink. Anyway, challenge accepted, and I decided to drink the electrolytes and refill with water.

The next 35 kilometers went by like a dream! I ran, I walked, I thought my thoughts. I spun around at times, just drinking in the beauty. I ate Ritz crackers with Nutella at an aid station. I filled my water flask. I didn't like my maple syrup so much. I finished my cheerios, throwing the last four remaining onto the desert ground with a small prayer of gratitude. I danced. I saw a butterfly. I met a cow. I missed a turn and went down the wrong road for a little bit until I realized there were no footprints. I turned around and saw three other runners wildly waving at me, so I turned back and got on track. I had some pumpkin pie at an aid station. I was filled with happiness. At around the 30 km mark I started eating candies and salt tablets. They were just what I needed! I decided to drink from my useless bladder, so I untied it every 20 minutes or so and took a long drink. 

At Mile 24.6, I reached Overlook aid station, 15 minutes after my planned time. I was happy and tired, and my son was waiting there with my Snickers bar! I gave him the offending water bladder, filled my flask, and headed out. Then the demons hit.

It wasn't really Courtney Dauwalter's famous pain cave. It was more like I suddenly realized, at about 42 kilometers, that I was a fat idiot. I was in the middle of the desert, with mountains in the distance, and blue sky above, and  for about a kilometer I was literally adjusting my clothing and worrying that I looked fat. I stopped. I stared at the sky. I had a drink of water. I continued. Fat or not fat, I regained my spirits and ran, stumbled, and walked the last ten km.

The final ten k were the hardest in terms of terrain. Very rocky and some steep descents. I couldn't really run. I slowed down a lot, partly because of my water troubles from the beginning of the race. But my "fat crisis" was minimal, and I regained my smile. I was terrified going back through the tunnel. I kept thinking if someone comes barreling my way in an ATV, what the hell can I do? But no one did, and I survived. I knew I wasn't going to die, the universe wasn't going to play that cosmic joke on me just yet.

Bottom line? I made it to the start line! And I made it to the finish line!

The finish line was a bit of a let-down, to be honest. I thought there would be more people there, but it was very low key. I got in the car with my loyal son and race support and we drive back to the RV where we were staying. I had a burger. I recovered, slowly. 

I trained. I trained hard, and had some setbacks. Physical stuff (colds, muscle aches and the like). Emotional stuff (challenges with family, feelings of Fatness, Fakeness, and the like). Discipline was ongoing. I needed to get out there, and when I had a run or a workout scheduled, I had to do it. I had to eat a lot, and good food. I needed to reframe my idea about how much protein I need, and how my body should look and act. I had to get 8-9 hours of sleep a night.

There's a lot of bullshit out there about a lot of things. Particularly about women, as far as I can see. Particularly about what we are or can be capable of. In this instance, I had to unlearn some of society's misconceptions about older women. 

Three little BS turds right here:

• Old people don't need to eat much, especially protein. 
• Old women shouldn't exercise too much. Lighter weights, not too much running (bad on the joints).
• We need less sleep.

If you're over 60, please have a look at your diet and make sure you are getting at least one source of protein with each meal. Start lifting weights asap! Your muscles are shrinking every day. And run, jump, ski, or dance whenever you feel like it. Sleep! If you wake up at five am, have a nap later in the day.

This isn't one of those "I did it, you can too" pieces. This is: shit happens, and usually we can overcome whatever hurdles are placed in front of us to get where we want, but sometimes we can't. 

My race was February 17, 2024. I had the idea of running an ultramarathon for a few years, so this was a big deal for me that I'd been preparing for for months. On February 8, nine days before my race and three days before I was due to fly out, I got a phone call. 

I was Mika's mentor, her teacher, her colleague, and her friend. She sought refuge with me when her demons first started attacking her in the summer of 2023. I tried to keep in touch. She loved the pictures I sent her from my travels. Mountains, desert, my grandson, snow-filled paths. Cactuses. Especially desert. Mika loved the desert, and she loved the outdoors. 

I ran my first ultramarathon knowing that my lovely young friend didn't find solace in the end, not here on earth anyway. She might not ever get to enjoy the beauty of the desert, the blue sky, the solitude and purity of the desert. Saying she's in a better place is a hopeful platitude, but it's what I hope. I didn't do my final test run of all my gear because I fell into a pit of grief, guilt, and fogginess. So I had a couple of miles of water spurting in the desert. The water in the desert reminded me of the fertility and joy and redemption, second chances, life itself.

Did I bring her memory with me? Not for the whole race. Sometimes the grief jumped out at me. But mostly I drank in the happiness I was feeling. That's the thing about dying: you go somewhere we can't reach, until we go there too. So we are left over here, earthside, wondering what to do.

I think Charles Bukowski said it better than I ever could. Thank you, desert. Thank you, body. Thank you, family. Thank you, Kristina. Thank you, friends, sun, wind, clouds. 

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Health Hacks for the Over 60s

Here are some simple life hacks:

1. be kind to yourself 💖
2. eat when you're hungry 😛
3. do something creative every day 💃 🎶
4. don't get bitter 😞
5. keep your feet happy 👣
6. drink lots of water 💧
7. get at least 30 minutes of exercise a day! 🏃
8. be alone at times but be with people too 👭
9. call your kids 👪
10. do fun things 😀

Well, those aren't really health hacks as we know  and read about them on the internet. "This amazing fruit will keep your skin clear for 90 days!" and all that. But they are basic rules that we forget about over time, and so simple to remember!

Yesterday I had a little meltdown and here's why: Okay, first of all, it's been a hell of a week. Just saying. World news was compounded over here by a humungous flood-style rain, then ice, then freezing rain, then snow. So it was hard to get around. 

I run a cafe with my son, who's obviously half my age. Business has been picking up, in spite of the provincial government's effort to kill small businesses. So I've been busy, and it's the two year mark of a pandemic that none of us planned for. I've noticed that every so often everyone I know, at different times of course, has a small Covid breakdown where the big existential questions come to the fore.

It's been a weird two years though, that's for sure. Our family got together in November, and in the week that we were all together - all five kids and four of their "others" - three of the daughter-in-laws lost someone close to them, and not an ancient old great-aunt either. I've had a series of friends with pretty shitty health problems, one got hit by a car...who gets hit by a car??? And three members of my family had serious ruptures with very close friends. 

So there ya go, and I don't think we are special. It's been a hell of a ride. So anyway, yesterday, I drove home in the snowy ice and backed my car into a snowbank in our driveway from which I could not extricate myself because the snow was on top of three inches of ice.  I never get stuck! I've been driving since I was 18 and I'm a damn good driver! My son helped me get out and I was PISSED. And scared.

Scared? Later in the evening, I was definitely hangry but I just melted down. Because the incident with the car scared me into thinking that I was turning into a weak old lady with none of the strength and sass that I've always had. Driving badly, getting weaker, losing my hearing, maybe even losing my marbles.

It's like being a teenager: you don't know what's happening and you're worried it's going to be fatal. And it is going to be fatal, of course. So I start thinking about how much I can fit into the next thirty years, if I live to 95, and how I would have done things differently, and I go down a rabbit hole of doubt and despair. I look at myself in the mirror, and I'm not young any more! And I wonder how that happened, and why. My dog's snout is all white as she, too, ages. 

Follow my rules: be kind to yourself 💖, eat when you're hungry 😛, do something creative every day 💃 🎶, don't get bitter 😞, keep your feet happy 👣, drink lots of water 💧, get at least 30 minutes of exercise a day! 🏃, be alone at times but be with people too 👭, call your kids 👪, do fun things 😀.

Maskne? You're kidding me...

 I'm not even going to post a picture here because I'm so ashamed of how my face looks. Yes, it's that bad. And, yes, maskne is a real condition. If you're interested, the New York Times did an article on it so you can read up on it and try to prevent it. Basically, it's caused by the build-up of all that your facial pores don't need (bacteria, oil, sweat, dirt, possibly some fungi ... all that good stuff), which gets trapped on your skin because ... because you're wearing a mask. 

I wear a mask every day at my cafe. I leave my house around 8am, get the Metro with my mask on, and get to work, and my face is covered from then until I get back home. That's a long time to have a fabric covering over my face, and I'm paying for it now.

Don't get me wrong, I believe that this virus is real, and that vaccines work, and that wearing a mask works too. I worked in health care for long enough to know that in situations where you don't want bacteria or viruses to spread from your mouth, you wear a mask. So that's not an issue, whether I agree with the effectiveness of the damn thing.

No, my issue is that I have been struck bad with the Maskne, and I'm feeling like I'm 13 again.

• I'm very self-conscious about my face. I like putting on a mask, or wearing concealer, so that no one will notice the awful rash around my nose and mouth.
• I almost don't want to go out. I feel like people will talk about me.
• Even worse, my self-consciousness has spread to other areas: I can't cook; I look stupid (my clothes are old and drab); I am too slow; my hearing loss bothers people; I'm not a good mother/granny/midwife..... the list goes on. Oh, and I'm fat. Ridiculous.

The only time I don't feel this way is when I'm out running, because honestly, who cares what you look like when you're having fun? People will notice my rashy face and what? They'll say "oh look at that 65 year old lady out for a run at 7:30 in the morning, what awful maskne she has". Yep.

 As we get older, there is more pressure to perform, not less. Because old people aren't valued simply because they have been on the planet for longer, and they've experienced more ... well, they've experienced more experiences, good and bad, beautiful and ugly.... so, because we aren't valued for that, there is a huge pressure to prove ourselves in many ways. The one who keeps on working; the one who runs the fastest and the farthest; the one who is the best grandma ever; the one who can afford to support his whole extended family ... you get the picture.

So, for me, this rash on my face has brought up all sorts of worries about whether I was true to myself, and I did what I was supposed to do, and was I good enough as a mother, a midwife, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister.... a citizen, an anarchist, a revolutionary, a witch ... 

It's funny what a few little zits can do to a gal's psyche!

Seek Peace

It is the time of year when a lot of people are thinking about the future: the darkest time of the year, in the northern hemisphere, and the coldest. I, for one, am hoping that in 2020 I can be a better person and I hope my friends and family stay healthy and get joy during this coming year.

I just started my new agenda for 2020. Passion Planner is my favourite agenda: it helps keep me focused, lets me multitask and still be organized, and I can write all my dreams, hopes and ideas in it and keep everything in one place.

Last Passion Planner (was in 2017, I skipped a year and feel I got disorganized), my main goal was to build up my cafe. I wanted to get to a place where I could make a living from it, instead of working for free and watching every penny. I had a secondary goal for 2018, to run a marathon. I achieved both of those goals that year and felt very proud.

This year, I have a few goals for 2020. I have pretty specific goals for my cafe. I want to grow my retreat project, WorkInProgress Retreats. I want to run a marathon in May, and my first trail race in October.

But the goal that I realized was my most important one for the start of this new year was "regain and retain my inner peace". I lost my centre this past year, and I'm not sure why. Partly from overwork, and a sense of fatigue. Partly from feeling like my "good works" - the projects I have put hours and hours of my life into - are such a tiny drop in the ocean ... it's almost not worth it. Partly from my intense sense of disillusion and concern for the political and social climate we live in. Anyway, my centre walked away, and I want to run after it.

One of the most interesting things about getting old in this culture is that there isn't a lot of value placed on having lived on the planet for a long time. In fact, the general feeling I get (apart from the lovely young people who offer me their seats on the metro) is that when you're over 60 you gain a certain stupidity, a certain slowness of mind and dullness of brain.

And, the fact is, my body is changing. So is my mind, and my heart. In fact, I am experience this change as much more radical than several of my previous ones. I slid into pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding and child-raising like a fish into water (well, giving birth was tough...). I felt myself, I was alive and centred in my skin. Adolescence, on the other hand, was awful. I was already shy, I spoke with an accent, my hair was frizzy, I had crooked teeth, and I was smart ... AND two years younger than my classmates. I didn't feel at home in my skin for a long time. Poetry helped, and copious amounts of beer and other mood stabilizers.

Now I feel the same. Where did this frizzy grey hair come from? Why do I look so old in the mirror? How did my body get shorter? My knuckles are bumpy. I have arthritis in my knees.
This is not rational stuff: I know I am incredibly lucky to be as healthy as I am. I run marathons, for God's sake. But it feels like adolescence, all over again. And the difference is, this time I'm older and wiser. And I know how to regain my inner peace, and retain it.

So, a list for the coming year:

run every day, even if it's just a mile with the dog
be master of my devices
do a meditation retreat in 2020
say no if I want to (if it's not a big deal)
be kind
take proper care of myself
turn away from evil and do good
seek peace and pursue it
don't nag the kids
lower expectations
have lots of parties

I'll be letting you know how it goes. In the meantime, stay well everyone, keep joy, be kind, do good.