Blue Tanzanite Christmas in July

"I hope you don't mind if I run next to you. You just keep going and I want to quit. But you don't quit"

I wanted to quit. The stairs were right there, ten feet away. My plan 15 seconds prior had been to head for those stairs. I kept running with her.

It was unbelievably hot and humid in Progresso, Mexico. The ship was docked and there was no breeze. Not a whiff. My clothes were soaked through. My Tuesday was to go like this: sleep in, shower, eat breakfast, then make my way to the spa for a long-anticipated full-body massage. I woke earlier than expected and did what I do when I have extra time on my hands. I made my way to the 10th deck's tiny track and started running. The thing was...I didn't have much oomph. After 15 minutes of pushing myself and cursing myself, I wasn't enjoying it and I wanted to quit and take that shower. I was starting to consider my breakfast. Then she told me I don't quit.

So I ran next to her and we talked about why we run. She's a teacher and she is determined to set a good example for her students. She wants to be able to tell them (when/if they ask) what she does for exercise. She runs. Her name is Holly. She was traveling with her family, none of whom share her passion for running and she was getting up and exercising before any of them started their day so she didn't cause a kink in the vacation works. She talked about balancing her desire to party with the gang and still wake up early and run. She talked quite a bit while we ran and honestly she was a LOT younger than me so I was happy just to let her talk while I concentrated on not guppy breathing in the thick Mexican air.

A couple days later, I was having a little difficulty finding a lounger in the shade. After a full day in the sun at Cozumel, I needed shade. Ah! I spotted one next to a woman and a teenish-looking girl. I arranged my book, my phone, my earbuds, and looked around for a waiter. Time for a cold drink and some quiet time. The woman next to me turned out to be a talker. That turned out to be an okay thing.

She is originally from Serbia and is recently divorced. She is apparently doing everything she always wanted to do but her husband didn't allow. She obtained a driver's license. She cut her hair. She got a tattoo. She is traveling - a lot. The girl on the chair next to her is her granddaughter. Last month my new friend took another granddaughter to Disney World. She will go to California for Christmas - with her divorced male neighbor.

She will never marry again but plans to take, "as many lovers as will have me". She tells me all her friends call her Snow.

I met Steve at a bar on the ship. He's also divorced and the father of 1 son and 2 daughters. His girls were his travel mates. They're old enough to spend time on their own, which they did for a good part of the cruise. We talked over cocktails most evenings and went to a couple shows together. Steve and I shared laughs with the bartenders and with other passengers. There is a wonderful phenomenon that can happen when traveling with strangers. Past and present journeys somehow get mixed together in the telling of tales at the end of the day. One evening, Steve told me how he lost his relationship with his son. He told me that it was embarrassing to admit his fault as a parent. All I could do was reassure him and let him know he isn't traveling alone on that particular journey.

I've been suffering from post-vacation blues. It seems as if as soon as I got back home I was hit with a crazy work schedule including covering another hospital - which doubles my time spent in rush hour traffic. I started marathon training and knowing I have runs planted on my calender makes me feel simultaneously resentful and relieved. January is a long way off and some afternoons are as hot as Progresso out there as I step out the door for my runs. I'm doing what I can to stay motivated, including asking for a week off work in August. Hopefully a friend will be flying in to town to help me enjoy it. I'm trying to figure out a way to spend Christmas with friends and/or family. (I feel like I was given a particularly big nudge by Holly and Snow regarding that.)

Me and those blues. We're not strangers to each other. I know how to keep them at bay, even if I don't rid myself of them forever. I think they're wound into my DNA. My helix runs a deep shade of Tanzanite. (That's a reference JUST for you, Jacque and Raquel.)

When I was running the other day, I was tempted, again, to give up. (That's how it works, you know. It's damned HARD to keep going when it's 95 degrees out and you've been up since 5:30 am and have worked a full day.) I was listening to music. "Falling Slowly" from "Once" started playing. I was back in London, a trip I worked my ass off to pay for. I was in the theatre listening to one of the most beautiful songs ever written and sung.

"Take this sinking boat and point it home.
We've still got time.
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice."

Always. I have a choice. Running on.



©Michelle Scofield, July 30 2014, All Rights Reserved

Forced Rest...Now What?

November 29 Wichita, KS 27 degrees 3.02 miles 37:10 12:18 pace

I had heel pain and knew I needed to back off. Back off I have.


Today: Hermann Park 41 degrees 1.78 miles 31:11 Walking for recuperation


I started to have a little, hacky cough on Thanksgiving day. Maybe I caught something on the plane? It would be the fastest moving virus ever heard of.

Anyway...

I ended up sick as a dog. A really, really sick dog.

I wasn't feeling too bad the Friday after Thanksgiving. Still just a little "ahem" kind of cough. No fever. I was able to keep things calm with cough drops and OTC meds. I even went to a movie with my family. Saturday we went to the art museum and I started fading. Fast.

By the time I boarded my plane on Sunday night, I was medicated to the gills (which, by the way felt like they were drowning). I struggled not to cough in my fellow passengers' airspace but I was so flushed and feverish I wasn't even thinking straight at that point. I emailed work and warned them that I would likely not be in the next day.

Since then, when I'm not working, I'm sleeping.

Until yesterday morning when I woke up and realized that my stomach didn't like my prescription medications. Joy. More sleep.

Today feels like I've turned a bit of a corner. I absolutely, positively couldn't sit in this chair, or on this couch, or lay upon this bed one more hour. I bundled up and took a walk in the park.

I've missed it.

I'm entered in a 30K race next Sunday. I'll pick up my race bib. I have no idea if I'll show up for the race. It seems like a lot to bite off at this point.

Everything seems like a lot to bite off at this point but movement felt pretty wonderful. Especially that fresh air. In and out. What a relief.

My only goal for the week is to not be in my head too much regarding worrying about the marathon in January. There isn't a whole lot I can do about it at this point...other than to push myself too hard, relapse, and end up an even sicker dog.

This all makes perfect sense. In black and white. I'll just keep writing, reading, saying it. Even in my sleep, if that's what it takes.




©Michelle Scofield, December 8, 2013 All Rights Reserved

Home Again, Home Again

Monday, Oct 21: 3 miles somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico on board the Carnival Magic. About 75 degrees. Windy as heck. Ran on concrete on deck 12.

Sunday, Oct 27: 9.06 miles 4pm 2:02:25 13:31 pace about 70 degrees.

As I type this, my monitor is rocking and swaying back and forth. At least that's the trick my brain is playing on me. I don't get sea sick but it takes a while for me to get my land legs back. As long as I'm moving I'm fine but sitting still doesn't make for feeling fantastic.

It was a good cruise. I escaped with my sister-in-law and we did a great job of chaise lounging. I evened out my tan. I got my chakras adjusted at the spa. (Our beach day at Cozumel was rained out, so we toughed it up and booked massages and facials.) I napped in the mornings. I napped in the afternoons.

We had the most lively and interesting dinner table, EVER!

I'd write more, but this rocking is not good.

It felt good to be running again this afternoon - after my nap.

It's nice to be home...but I'm already thinking about the next vacation. Happy Sunday!


©Michelle Scofield, October 27, 2013 All Rights Reserved

The London Chronicle

6:58am 2.76 miles 29:16 10:36 pace 75 degrees




Up at 5:30 this morning. Time to think while waiting for the sun to rise and then time to think while running. It’s been over a month since I returned from (so far) the trip of my lifetime – for many reasons. Since returning to Houston, I’ve hardly stopped to breathe. Until now. I don’t want to let this trip pass without taking the time to chronicle. My Blog is my diary.

Dear Diary,

My London trip changed my life. You know that. I’ll never forget parts of it but I’m afraid I might forget others. Please save this for me. Thanks, M

Nonstop from Houston to Heathrow on British Airways: Movies and television all the way. Meal service. Aisle seat. You bet!

I bought a roundtrip Heathrow Express ticket once I arrived at Heathrow. I’d do it again. What I’d do differently is NOT take a taxi from the train station to my hotel. I now know it’s not necessary but that day I was overcome by the enormity of the train station. I’d just arrived in Europe for the first time and all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.

Hyde Park: My stepping off point. I stayed at the Cumberland Hotel at Marble Arch. It was a great place to catch the Underground or a bus. Twice, I took long walks through the park. There are great walkways and bike paths. That first afternoon I had a strong desire to be outside and explore but felt disoriented. Give me a park and I’m usually ok. I walked to the Serpentine Café, bought a muffin and a cup of coffee and sat shivering in the cold and damp London weather. Smiling.

There was a Prêt a Manger on the corner, just steps from my hotel. The first full day I was in London, I decided that shop would be my way of surviving monetarily while I was on vacation. It worked pretty well for me. I had yogurt and fruit for breakfast, enjoyed tea and a light “something” at whatever museum I hit in the afternoon, and ate a reasonable dinner.

I purchased an Oyster Card for the week. It didn’t take long for me to figure out the Underground system. A couple of times I got off at a station in error and when I did, I just jumped back on a different train or took time to study the map. My biggest goof was thinking I’d take pictures of an “English Garden” at Covent Garden. Imagine London’s version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The worst part of my getting off at that stop wasn’t that there wasn’t a garden but that the tube exits consisted of four cramped elevators that took FOR.EV.ER to get to street level.

I fell in love with all the variety at the tube stations. Each had its own personality. The unifying factor was that all had gum stuck to advertising posters. Movie stars’ nostrils in each station sprouted chewed juicy fruit. When I saw one without chewing gum, it looked somehow naked.

The first time I ventured out was to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Oh -the furniture, the fashion. And my first introduction to afternoon tea. It became something I indulged in daily and I continue to do so now.

The Saturday I was there, I made the most of a sunny day. I walked around St. James Cathedral and then over the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. Before entering the museum, I veered left and walked through the Borough Market where I found a delicious curry vegetarian wrap and spent some time visiting with the woman who ran the stall, cooking such delicious food. I walked back to the museum and took time to wander through the collection.

May 29 was a bank holiday. I went to Buckingham Palace and waited for the changing of the guard that never happened. Luckily there was also a 10K race that day and I stood at the finish line. I was able to see Mo Farah win the race. I also watched some crazy guy at the start take off in a full suit of armor. He wasn’t 1 mile in when Mr. Farah finished.

One day I stumbled upon a rehearsal of the London Symphony at Trafalgar Square. I sat outside and soaked up the sunshine and the tunes. I didn’t feed the pigeons.

My first stop at the National Gallery was unplanned and unprepared. I stopped in one afternoon after what felt like hours of walking…kind of sort of lost. I wandered around for about 30 minutes and decided I had to come back with plans to spend more time. I’m so glad I did. My second trip gave me the opportunity to luxuriate in the expanse of centuries of visual splendor. A bonus was the Michael Landy exhibit “Saints Alive”. It was a simultaneously fascinating and disturbing take on religious legends. At the National Gallery, I found Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Caravaggio. I sought out Seurat and Pissarro. I wandered into a small room, a cavern of darkness, and came face to face with a da Vinci. There were no signs to point me to it. Nobody nudged me toward this thing of beauty. It was purely by accident that I found it. Stunning. And enough of a surprise to shock me out of my blissful ignorance and force me into picking up a guide at the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, my next stop.

I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I have a fascination with many things Tudor. King Henry VIII, his wives, his court, etc. Especially after spending a week in London, I was anxious to put faces to my imagination. There is so much history on the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. Not only is royalty a big part of it, icons of literature, science, mathematics, exploration, and popular culture are all personified. Another bonus exhibit: George Catlin’s American Indian Portraits was showing. I’ve heard about them for so many years. I’ve seen pictures of them in books. Seeing them in person was a thrill. The depth and colors were amazing.



Tours: I took a tour arranged with the help of the hotel concierge. I went to Bath and to Stonehenge. Bath is a lovely little town and I wish I’d seen more of it than the tourism portion. I can now say I’ve seen flying buttresses. The roman baths were quasi-interesting. Being out of the city of London was nice for a day. I also wish I’d taken a smaller tour (like a mini-bus) instead of a big ol’ tour bus. Being a single, I was stuck in the middle back seat and it wasn’t easy to see out of the windows. Next time I’ll know better. I ate at Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant but before I could eat, an elderly woman fell and likely fractured her arm. I did a little first aid there in the restaurant. She and her husband were very sweet. I found out how emergency medicine works (in that city anyway). The restaurant called her a taxi and they fixed the old guy a panini while they waited. Everybody seemed happy. Go figure. Oh, my meal? Wild rabbit, fresh pasta and lemon mascarpone. And a glass of red wine. And then I was happy.

From Bath it was back on the bus and on to Stonehenge. Worth the trip. Absolutely. There were hundreds of people there and it was the quietest place I’ve ever seen. To say mystery is to understate dramatically. Go. Well, go if you’re into quiet and meditation and wonder. Otherwise, probably skip it.

The Tower of London: I arrived early and was one of the first people in line for an admission ticket. This was one of the only places I had to pay for a restroom (also Victoria Coach Station). It pays to keep a few coins on hand. I was only planning to stay a couple of hours at the Tower. I was there for six. So much of the history I’ve loved to read and study is tangled up in the Tower. The crowds grew as the day wore on. It was raining that day. The Beefeater Tours don’t let you hold up umbrellas on their tours. Yeah, pretty wet by the end of the day.

Theatre: I bought my tickets online at seetickets.com. Worked like a charm. My seat for “Book of Mormon” at the Prince of Wales Theatre was in the upper balcony and was perfectly fine. The show was hilarious and filthy. I laughed until I cried. The theatre was beautiful. For “Once” at the Phoenix Theatre, I sat in the sixth row. I’d been given a tip to go onstage prior to the show and purchase a drink. I’m so glad I did. The musicians were fantastic. The show was fantastic. It was…fantastic. The main difference I found between London theatre and New York theatre was that I didn’t have to arrive nearly as early in London as New York. Taking the Underground made arriving so much easier than dealing with New York traffic.

And one more thing. My last night I met new friends by way of old friends. We had a wonderful dinner then went back to their flat for champagne. I was made to feel welcome. It was so very lovely. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week.

Did I forget something? Maybe. It’s been over a month since I returned from this trip of a lifetime. I set out to explore on my own. I’m writing this more for me than for you. It seems a lifetime of events have happened since I returned and I didn’t want to forget THAT while I deal with THIS. I hope this makes sense. I owe it to myself to remember how much I enjoyed this trip and that I shouldn’t wait decades to take another. The question is, to where?



©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved

What's Next?

Several have asked, "What's next?"

I'm not sure.  I've been so busy recovering.  Or rather, I've been so NOT busy recovering.  I've been sleeping and (at times) eating.  I've watched a lot of trash television (via the net).  I've read magazines.  And I've been sleeping some more.

I developed a horrific toothache very late Saturday night. Seems one of the silver fillings in a back molar exceeded it's utility.  It was older than my daughter and she's a Physician.  You do the math.

I spent two nights in pain with my only relief being the discovery of an old lidocaine patch buried deep under my bathroom sink.  I cut a small square and plastered it on my face and waited.  For a few minutes I wondered if it was too close to the return blood supply to my heart - would I experience arrhythmia?  I could do a little research.  Nah, the pain was too intense. 

Anatomy is my thing. I know the nerve supply to that part of my jaw.  I know the blood supply.  I can give a lecture on the pathophysiology of nerve pain.  Pain trumped vascularity.  I left the patch on.

Obviously, I didn't die and it worked enough to get me through to Monday morning.

I went to work at 7:15 and at 8am Monday morning, I called a dentist's office new to my neighborhood.  The doctor himself answered the phone and said he could see me at 9.  Awesome.  I let my boss know I was leaving the office.  (At this point there was no asking.  Everything was informational.)  By 11:30 I was back in the office.  Although I was sore the remainder of the day,  I woke up this morning feeling worlds of improvement.

I'll have the remainder of the repair done in a couple of weeks. 

I'd read that marathon runners can expect to have an infection or illness immediately after the race.  My bet is that all the ibuprofen I was taking for my heel pain masked the dental problem.  When I backed off the analgesic, the tooth declared itself. 

I'm just happy to have it taken care of.

I'm also happy to report that I ran a little over 3 miles today.  I kept my pace a little quicker than I usually run.  The sun was warm, the air clear, and traffic not too bad.  I finished in 33:18.  (No, I'm not setting any land speed records but I worked up a good sweat.)  I've been feeling so sluggish laying around.  Resting was good.  I've done it.  Now let's move on.

So, anyway.  What's next?  I'm not sure.  I want to keep moving.  Some running friends told me I shouldn't rule out another marathon at this point.  I say bullshit.  I'm not running another marathon. 

I received an email inviting me to register for a limited field half marathon in March.  I'm not even sure about that.  It's right in my neighborhood.  Maybe.  I might. 

I just want to run for the hell of it for awhile.  I want to drop about 10 more pounds. 

And I want to take a vacation.  That's not so far in the future.  Details to follow.






©Michelle Scofield, January 22, 2013 All Rights Reserved

2012 Running Into 2013

Where to start? 

It makes sense to go back to one year ago.  I pulled up my post from December 31, 2011.  I had to read it a few times.  Each reading brought a little more clarity.  One of the things (out of many) that I love about recovering - about moving on from pain and distress - is the gift of realizing that distress.  It makes me more appreciative of my journey and I treasure having been there as much as I treasure being here.

It's interesting that I wrote about roads and movement because that's what 2012 was about for me.  I needed to move and I did.

I packed and unpacked my suitcases more this year than any other in my life.  I learned to take with me what I needed and I shed that which weighed me down.

One day I was alone, contemplating absolutely nothing, sipping a Red Stripe beer in Jamaica.  A week later I was sipping a glass of Chianti in Little Italy in New York City, trying to decide where to have dinner with a friend who had also never been to that big, bright, beautiful city. We explored the hell out of it, including seeing a Broadway show.

Two talented and artistic people who are paid for their design and decorating skill found my photography beautiful enough to give me money for it.  Really.

My national professional journal published one of my poems.  And paid me for it.

I finally saw Madame Butterfly.

I spent time with my family in New Orleans, Portland, Houston, and Seattle.  Gratitude doesn't begin to cover how I feel when I see my son and daughter with their spouses.

My brothers' wives feel more like sisters to me than anything else.  I know I can pick up the phone and the miles disappear.

I danced a little.

I ran. A lot.

I cried over injury and loss but I picked myself up and I'm running again.

 
Thanks to those who ran/traveled/danced with me this year.  You helped me more than you can possibly know.  Some of you laced up your shoes and hit the street with me.  Some of you talked to me on the phone.  Some of you had coffee with me, or lunch, or a beer.  Some of you sent me a text or a comment on my blog.  You know what you did.  I love you.  Happy New Year.

©Michelle Scofield, Dec. 31, 2012 All Rights Reserved




  

10 days off - sort of

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 11, Day 7
Planned Run:  What's a Plan?  5 miles
5.05 miles   58:32    11:35 pace
8:40 am  53 degrees
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 48


I arrived in Seattle with the knowledge that my hotel had a fitness room and that the weather wasn't going to be a fun little drizzle but, rather, a downpour for several days.  I didn't feel so bad about being on a doctor-ordered rest from running. 

My brother and his wife (who I feel is very much a sister) met me at the airport and we went to dinner the first night.  I enjoyed more family the second day when they drove into the area near my hotel and my daughter and her husband (yep, like a son) met us for a walk through the market. 

During the time I had on my own, I got in a couple of stair climber/elliptical workouts.  I also walked around downtown Seattle - a lot.  There are so many beautiful buildings, art galleries, museums, and interesting venues.  Never mind the rain.  There are also hills.  Epic hills.  I felt like I got my exercise.

I moved out to Everett to spend the holiday with my brother's family.  We took two long walks together.  Really nice.  We also ate fantastic seafood and toured the wine district.

Wow.

It's a good thing I'd given myself permission to relax and enjoy the trip because that's exactly what I did.  The thing is, my brother and sister-in-law are also now in the mindset of taking care of themselves so even though we indulged in delicious wine and tasted some yummy food, we were thoughtful in our choices.  We went to a restaurant for breakfast and I was so proud of us for the way we each ordered.  We had half omelets with veggies instead of fatty fillings and fruit instead of potatoes.  It's not a struggle to make these decisions.  We've developed habits and I'm excited to think of us growing past middle age, into being old folks together.

So it was with real sadness that I checked my bags at the airport and started my journey home.  I love my family and I need to find a way to be closer to them.  It was a wonderful trip and this notion of me not wanting to live in a city without family only gets stronger each time I'm with them.

And then my sadness turned to frustration when I realized that my flight was cancelled.  Sigh.  What are you gonna do?  This is what I did.  I stood on a long line and waited silently while a lone smartass agent repeatedly told us that he didn't want us looking so angry, making cracks, or asking him any questions.  (I didn't hear one person in that line say one word to that man at all.  He was trying to be funny but we just wanted to go home.)  I felt bad for the elderly people and the people trying to get to Mexico City who didn't speak English.  I only had to get to Houston.  I waited an hour and a half to get a seat on a flight that got me home 4 hours later than planned.  Not that big of a deal, really.  Did I thank the smartass agent?  Of course.  Did I smile at him.  Not on your life.

Will I let United Airlines know about his behaviour when I go to their customer satisfaction website per this morning's email invitation?   Gladly.




©Michelle Scofield, Nov 25, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Astral Apparition

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 4, Day 3
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 101
Planned activity: Rest





Fear of Fall(ing)

Orion thought nothing of it.
It was his mission.
He marched across months of late summer mornings and finally pointed toward the waning moon and declared,
“Let go!”


©Michelle Scofield, October 3, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Sunday Funday

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 1, Day 7



Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 118

Planned activity: Crosstrain
Time and Temp: 8 am Indoors...78? 

WiiFit Balance Games 30 minutes


It's been a looooooong time since I connected my Wii console to my TV.  The screen lit up and the smartie pants system said something like, "Michelle?  Is that you?"  Yeah, yeah.  It was me.

I'm dedicated to sticking with the schedule that Mr. Higdon has devised for getting me to the finish line in January.  I could have done just about anything today, even taken a walk.  I thought about  using the company gym and a stationary bike but I avoid going by there on my running routes.  There's something about seeing work when I'm not working that harshes my mellow.  So that was out. 

I've use a balance board in Physical Therapy to strengthen the muscles around my ankle and it's billed as core work - although I'm sure planks would have been better. 

It was a good reminder that I have equipment in my place that I don't use often enough.  When my foot is feeling better I'll pull out my jump rope.  I can work some kettle bell routines in there and I have three different elastic bands that I can use for resistance work.

I didn't exactly break a sweat but that's OK.  The point (as I understand it) is to use different muscle groups and change up my routine.  I'm also very hesitant to do anything that can lead to injury at this point.  I'm walking a fine line with my right foot and I need to be as smart as I can. 

Tomorrow is a scheduled rest day.  I'm perfectly fine with that.  Speaking of rest, I slept like a baby last night.  Lovely.




©Michelle Scofield, September 16, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Day 2 of Marathon Training

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 1, Day 2

Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 123
Planned activity: 3 mile run  
Completed  3.03 in 33:10
Time and Temp:  5:20am  66 degrees

It's a beautiful morning for a run.  The stars are bright against a deep velvet sky.  I picked out my favorite guy up there, Orion, reclined lazily away from the chipper crescent moon.  I didn't use music or any playlist of talk radio today.  I wanted to hear my footfalls.  I'm trying to figure out where I'm landing on the planet.  My right foot is still nagging at me.  I may make an appointment with my orthopedic guy and see about getting a cortisone injection to nip this thing early (while the nipping is good).  Yes, yes...I've rested it, I've iced it, I've NSAID'd it, I've rolled it.  Short of STOPPING running, it's not going away.  It feels better when I'm running.  It only hurts when I'm stationary.  Classic fascitis.  I'm one stubborn bitch.   *This is me smiling while I type.*

ANYway...I kindof sortof raced a guy this morning.  He was on one side of Lexington Street and I was on the other.  I decided I didn't like that he was about 20 yards ahead of me so I caught up to him and passed him.  Guess he didn't like that and he passed me.  And so on and so on for about a halfmile.  It was fun.  Then it was time for me to turn around and head home.  I waved, he waved.  Happy Tuesday.

Oh, Jacque.  I'm remembering where we were in April.  Trip of a lifetime and I'm so glad we spent time at the Memorial.  Never to be forgotten.











©Michelle Scofield, September 11, 2012 All Rights Reserved

A Letter to Granny (About a Mummy)

Dear Granny,

Today I fulfilled a promise I made to you sometime in the mid 1980’s. I’m a little late. I’ve been busy. The kids are wonderful, grown and on their own. Of course they're brilliant – you always knew they would be. I finished that pesky degree, I became the single woman I should have been all along. Oh, wait. I got divorced, remarried, and divorced again. NOW I’ve been single for almost nine years and I can’t believe it’s been that long. I established myself in a career that’s solid and stimulating, if at times exhausting. In short – I emulated you.

Back to the promise. Do you remember those days when I lived in Plano and you lived in Fort Worth and we’d spend lazy afternoons at your house going through your scrapbooks? Inevitably, we’d come across your tickets to museums: The Louvre, The Smithsonian. You’d tell me about what you saw there and encourage me to, “Go, Michelle. Go!”

You were especially excited after seeing the Treasures of Tutankhamen Exhibit. If I remember correctly, you boarded a tour bus and went all the way to New York City to see it. You were always traveling. Being alone didn’t stop you because you simply craved the adventure and the experience. I remember sitting on your bedroom floor, both of us cross-legged, as you paged through the glossy program and told me what you’d seen. You kept telling me about all the gold and how amazed you were by the sheer quantity of riches buried with the young King.

We spent so many days like that, Granny. As I look back it seems that you took me to all those places and I never felt rushed or pressured while we toured your memories. I cherish those days.

Today I bought a ticket to the King Tut exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. I lined up for the 1 pm showing and stood patiently with about 40 other people. We watched a short introductory film, narrated by Harrison Ford. (I was happy the film was absent “Indiana Jones” music.) The doors to the exhibit swung open and we proceeded into about an hour’s worth of a lot of people standing in front of each other, many listening to audio guides, quite a few seeming to be frustrated with each other for blocking views. (Once inside the exhibit, it became clear that the introductory film was an attempt to space out the visitors into move-along-and-don’t-be-so-crowded order. It didn’t work all that great.)

The exhibit had the requisite educational placards giving brief explanations of the geographic, cultural and social aspects of the life of the Pharaohs, especially pertaining to funereal customs. I used the times when I couldn’t approach the displays of artifacts to read up on Hatsheput, Tutankhamen, and the artifacts that were found in the tomb of King Tut.

I was quite sad when I was looking at the display that showed the photographs of the mummy with finger protectors and sandals and some of the other jewelry that was on the body itself. I thought it didn’t belong in a museum. I’m not into curses nor do I have a strong belief in afterlife but I just felt that this person had been so disrupted. Yes, the treasures were all beautiful, and so very GOLD but I was sad as I walked through that part of the exhibit.

The final room had a film about a bone marrow test on King Tut’s femur and there was a replica of the mummy – of the dead Boy King. Granny, I’ve seen a lot of dead people in this job of mine and I’ve done enough bone marrow biopsies that if I never see another one, I’ll be just fine. I skipped that part. I figured I could read up on the DNA research to try to determine the royal line at a later date.

I also skipped the King Tut gift shop.

As I approached the museum exit, I reminded myself that I rarely get into Houston these days and I better see what else is going on at the MFAH. I ducked into “Gifts of the Sultan: The Arts of Giving at the Islamic Courts”. One word: Gorgeous.

There were sumptuous carpets like I’ve never seen before. The tapestry work was simply amazing. I also saw diamonds and emeralds worked into stunning pendants. There were fascinating books with the most intricate drawings and pictures. I’m so happy I stopped.

After a fairly morose encounter with a King, the Sultans lifted my spirits with color and vibrancy. I lingered and laughed. I appreciated.

So, Granny, that’s my day with King Tut. I’ve finally followed through as you asked. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Paris. In time. In time.

Love,


Michelle




©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2012 All Rights Reserved

This Is Training?

12/24/09

Distance: 4.8 miles
Start time: 5:00 am
Run Duration: 52 minutes
Average Pace: 10.8 minutes/mile
Temperature: Climate controlled...comfortable
Humidity: comfortable
Location: Hotel Lucia, Portland, OR

12/25/09

Distance: 3 miles
Start time: 6:00 am
Run Duration: 30 minutes
Average Pace: 10 minutes/mile
Temperature: Climate controlled...comfortable
Humidity: comfortable
Location: Hotel Lucia, Portland, OR

I returned to Houston after midnight last night. Long flight from Portland after almost 5 days of fantastic family time. I say "almost" because travel gobbled up part of those days, but our family knows how to eek out every bit of together-time.

My daughter met me at the airport Wednesday and we were off, enjoying a quick bite to eat, a little thriftshop browsing and then I checked in at the Hotel Lucia, a lovely boutique hotel in Portland. My father also stayed there so he and I were able to hang out a bit while were resting up or waiting for others to come to town. My son and his fiance were caught in the massive storm that stalled air traffic for an entire day. Our family simply postponed Christmas dinner and ate at midnight on the 25th when the weary travelers arrived. (It was a delicious dinner, by the way.)

I managed to get miles in, on the treadmill. I'd hoped to run near the river in Portland, but it was quite cold with highs in the 30's and I had no clue as to my directions there. I was sure I'd get lost and end up as a popsicle in running shoes. Better to stick with the perfectly adequate fitness center at the hotel.

Good thing I put in the miles. In addition to the wonderful meals my daughter cooked, AND a brunch out with the family, yesterday morning we all went to Voodoo Doughnuts. I'm pretty sure a Maple Bacon Log doesn't sit on the training tables of most serious athletes. Maybe my diet was lacking a bit while I was in Portland. The love I felt and the laughter more than made up for it. I'm certain of that.

Lifting up gratitude for my family.

Over That Rainbow

Distance: 2 miles
Start time: 6:30 am
Run Duration: 20 minutes
Average Pace: 10. minutes/mile
Temperature: not a clue
Humidity: again, have no idea
Location: The Gulf of Mexico

I woke most mornings before sunrise. I was on a cruise aboard the Carnival Ecstasy. I only exercised "officially" one day this week. I made my way to the Sports Deck, quickly read the notice that let me know that 11 laps equaled one land mile and started running, counterclockwise as directed. I could see the rain to the South, and we were closing in on it. I thought I could complete my run before getting soaked. I did. This blog entry isn't about the run. But before I get to what it's really about, know that I took the stairs for 90% of the cruise and I danced. I danced a lot. I didn't gain a single pound on this vacation and I ate a thousand-million calories. Well, maybe not that many - but a lot.

Here's what this blog is about.

I just returned from an odyssey - a theme trip I never planned to take. It all started at Frankel's costume shop about a month ago. My friend Daryl wanted us to "really dress up for Halloween". He liked the thought of me being Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. (I'm from Kansas, right?) I bent to his will, plunked down my $65 and brought home a sexy little blue gingham number, complete with a petticoat and thigh high stockings. I purchased a wig, a basket and found a stuffed Toto to carry. I was all set for a raucous party on Halloween night.




Fast forward to the drive to Galveston to board the ship. Daryl told me he'd changed his mind. He wasn't going to wear a costume, he wasn't feeling so enthusiastic about dressing up. Uhuh. Fine. I did and so did another friend who went on the trip with us. By the time dinner came around we were tarted up, calling attention to ourselves and dancing the night away. Fun, right? Should have been the end of it, right? Not so simple.

Three of us booked an excursion to snorkel at Cozumel. We boarded our charter speed boat with about 15 other adventuresome folks and zipped off across the pristine waters. After a few hours of fun, sun, beer, chicken and veggies, we noticed the clouds building to the East (in the direction of our Mother Ship). They became darker and more ominous. Soon we saw a finger drop to the water in the form of a water spout. A big, ugly funnel had formed and we needed to pack it up and head back to the ship while we still could. As we grew closer and closer to the pier it became evident that we were about to enter a terrible storm. The clouds were black, the seas were rough and lightening played around us. Suddenly the crew of the boat stopped us dead in the water and told us to pass our belongings to the front if we wanted our things to remain dry. We did, fire-brigade style...and then it hit. We were in a deluge of rain, soaking us with a power that stunned us. At first we attempted to cover ourselves with our beach towels but we soon realized the futility in that effort and opened our faces to the rain, laughing. Our captain pushed onward through the storm, turning the music up. That was an adventure.






A twister.





The next morning brings me to my run. I finished my miles and moved to the front of the ship, noticing a rainbow like I'd never seen. It was just off the ship's bow with both ends of the arc sitting in the water. The ship was moving through the rainbow. As the rain started, the drops moved through the colors of the rainbow and lit up brilliantly, especially when they hit the purple stripe. Fascinated I stood next to a man and woman who were also transfixed, watching the show. I asked them if they'd ever seen anything like it before.

"No, but he told me that we needed to be here this morning. He said so when we woke up, so we're here." This is what the woman told me. This is how she explained their presence. We chatted a bit. We joked about how wet we were getting, but how we didn't care. He said he'd rather be wet than at work. They asked where I worked. I told them. They looked at me in stunned silence.

Their son will be coming to my hospital in 2 weeks with a diagnosis of a tumor that is within my subspecialty. They were so worried. I was able to give them comfort and to reassure them that he will be in good hands. I knew (immediately) about his particular diagnosis and was able to say, "Please rest your minds, please know that he is coming to the best place. Please know that I understand your anxiety, but it sounds like everything is on track."

A rainbow.

I was relaxing on deck yesterday with my friend. This one is simple. I looked up and saw something I'd never seen before. There was a rainbow in the middle of the sky. It wasn't attached to anything. It was simply an arc for the sun. James told me earlier in the day that the sprinkles we were feeling were probably blowing from miles away. I understand that water refracts the light. I get that. I also know that sometimes I need to see things that I've never seen before.

A different kind of rainbow.



This vacation I saw so many things I've never seen before. I thought thoughts I hadn't even considered. I'm lifting up gratitude for my traveling companions: Every day is a good day when I learn. I feel that they hold a mirror for me and I love them for their patience and compassion.

James (heart) was anxious to get home to his little dog. This love for another living being warms me and strikes me as pure and sweet and I am so lucky to call him friend.

Daryl (courage) has taken the steps to know himself and is willing to be himself in a world that is not always ready to hear passion and honesty. His belief in eye contact is inspirational. I feel safe in our friendship.

Bevilee (nerve) drinks this life to the fullest, arms wide, smile even wider. She is steeled for success, yet feminine. We have a friendship that goes deeper than the sea.

I'll take this kind of theme cruise any day. Oh, I guess there was one more thing. I did a little dreaming, about the kinds of dreams that really do come true.

3 Short Runs in 3 Days

3 runs over last 3 days (9/5/09-9/7/09)

Distance: 2 miles X 3
Start time: around 7 am each day
Run Duration: about 20 minutes
Pace: Felt like 10 minute miles
Temperature: 60 degrees
Humidity: 75%
Location: Roseville, CA

I spent the Labor Day weekend in the Sacramento area with my dad. It was restful and I was especially happy that I took my running shoes. It felt wonderful to get out every morning in the cool air and enjoy a run without having to be anywhere at any particular time. I ran in Dad's neighborhood. He lives near a golf course and it's very quiet and peaceful. There weren't any stray dogs, hardly any traffic.

Saturday morning was the best. I love spending time with Dad, but he was playing golf with friends and I had the place to myself. I finished my run and spent an hour on his patio doing nothing but enjoying the morning with my coffee and the latest fashion magazine. That's like a slice of heaven to me. I had time to shower when I wanted. I then watched a movie...in his recliner. I napped. What a great morning, what a great day. Later that afternoon his friends and their wives showed up and we enjoyed a shrimp boil.

Sunday morning found me enjoying the crisp air again, then we met up with friends for brunch and headed to the state fair to watch the horse races. I wrapped it up this morning with yet another run.

I'm home now and I feel like I was hit with reality all too soon, almost from the moment I stepped off the plane. I'm glad I have several vacations planned the next few months. I intend to make the best of them.

Busy Days of Purposeful Relaxation

I drove about 550 miles roundtrip over the last 4 days. I spent the time with two friends I've known for 25 years. It was rejuvenating. We took our meals together - some we prepared and one at a great Tex-Mex dive in the old neighborhood. We drank vodka tonics and laughed until I had hiccups. We watched movies and I fell asleep in front of the TV. We teased each other with the same good nature that never seems to go away, no matter how many months go by between visits.

I love them so much.

I miss them.

We took a 5 mile walk and we talked, and talked, and talked.

We drove all over downtown and uptown Dallas and I was given the opportunity to soak up a little bit of the feel of the neighborhoods, including the Museum District. We spent an hour at The Nasher, enjoying the sculptures. Picasso still scares me, after all these years of trying to appreciate him.

We cooled off in the pool yesterday afternoon and revved ourselves up with the silliest game of Wii tennis ever played last night.

I laughed and I listened. I needed the time away from Houston, to sit quietly with a cat on one side of me and a dog on the other.

I'm home now and recharged, certain of my need to continue with my running, ready for the miles that are in front of me next week. I feel as if I've received some sort of vitamins that were missing from my diet. Today I lift up my gratitude for Lynn and Jack and for our friendship. I am so grateful for the gift of being able to be myself when I am with them. I am fully aware of how special that is.