Bobbing along

I have finished all episodes of Wonderfalls except for "Lying Pig," which my Netflixed DVD would not play for anything despite multiple efforts at cleaning it. Overall, I enjoyed this series immensely. It is quirky and strange and very fun to watch. I'd never seen most of the series regulars before, and they all won me over quickly. I think my favorite casting element of the show, though, was how exciting it was to see familiar faces popping in from episode to episode. I had no idea that Tracie Thoms, who played Joanne in the Rent film, was a regular on this show as the lead's best friend. She was really great on the show, and it was so fun to see her in another role. Each episode features a guest star or two in a key role, and I'm telling you, this show had some of the best guest stars ever. Louise Fletcher (the grandmother in Flowers in the Attic, the piano teacher on Joan of Arcadia, and the Oscar-winning Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest!), Rue McClanahan (Blanche Devereaux!), Audrey Wasilewski (the self-righteous neighbor on Big Love, Peggy's self-righteous sister on Mad Men), Glenn Fitzgerald (the awesome Brian on Dirty Sexy Money), Sarah Drew (Hannah on my beloved Everwood, Salvatore's wife on Mad Men), and last but not least, Jewel Staite (Kaylee from Firefly and Serenity) ... the list goes on and on. Not to mention that one of the series regulars is Lee Pace, a.k.a. Ned the piemaker, a.k.a. Michael in Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day. I really recommend this show. It's got several commentary tracks, and my favorite moment on any of them was when the show's creators, the actress who played Jaye, and the actress who played Sharon all burst into joyful song when the opening credits played. It's clear the affection they all still have for the show, and it warmed my heart.

My mom and I went to see The Secret Life of Bees. We both cried. I was surprised that Alicia Keys was one of the strongest actresses in the film -- I thought she was truly fantastic -- and Dakota Fanning is just an awesome actress. There, I said it. It was nice to see the movie with my mom, as the book meant a lot to both of us when we first read it and we really bonded over it.

Lately I have been sort of hating my house. It's dusty, crawling with pet hair tumbleweeds, and I've decided I loathe all of my furniture, wall colors, and bedding. Basically ... everything about it. I bought my couch from the couple who used to live next-door on the day I moved in because they were having a garage sale and it seemed quite convenient. But it's quite ugly, who are we kidding? I went on a really red rampage a few years back which resulted in red dining room walls, red chairs, red throw pillows, red lamps, red red red. I am really over the red. And now I'm not sure what possessed me to paint my kitchen the color of an avocado or my hall bright orange. I have one bedroom that is basically a blank slate ... the only thing in it is a twin bed (with bedding I hate, of course) and I'd really like to build a really cute room entirely from scratch. Oh, and it has a cute rug.

That rug is basically the only thing in my house (other than my rainbow bookcase) that I like right now. None of it hangs together. It's very dissatisfying.

Honestly I don't know where to begin. Paging AB Chao ...

Recipe for a nice Friday evening ... Thai take-out, the season two season finale of Mad Men, the Halloween episode of The Office, and pumpkin pecan quick bread with vanilla ice cream.

Week 3, Run 1

My plan to get up early and run yesterday did not pan out as I was still lying immobilized and unconscious under the covers when I was supposed to be pounding away on the treadmill. But I did get up early today and head to the gym in the cold darkness.

Luckily, I was able to tune the TV to my station of choice, and I chose Good Morning America. It was great to watch footage of last night's historic Obama television event. I actually felt the excitement sparking through the air while on the treadmill as goosebumps appeared on my sweaty arms. I ran a slow two-miler because it was my first run since the Great Shin Splintering of 2008.

After three full days off spent stretching and icing, the old shins were still pretty sore as I ran, but I didn't feel like I was going to cry or spray barf on my fellow runners nearby, so I kept going. I don't think I'll get to all four runs this week, but that's okay. I think it was more important to rest in this case.

This morning's best running song was "Lose Yourself." I enjoyed it so much I started contemplating buying Eminem's new memoir. It's funny where your brain goes when running. Hearing this song took me straight back to right around election day eight years ago, when my friend and I saw Eminem perform at Voodoo Fest in the midst of a hot, crowded, sweaty field of people. Memories from the day flashed through my mind and I thought about how much has changed and how much as remained the same over eight years. I was so grossed out by him that day, but I have to tell you, I love this song. I love it mind, body, and soul! And I love listening to it while I run.

Tomorrow I will attempt a 3.5-miler in order to salvage this week's training somewhat. We'll see how it goes.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Week 2, Runs 3 & 4

I'm going to have to shoot straight with you. After two treadmill runs earlier in the week, hitting the road outside for my second two runs of the week was rather painful. As in full of pain. I managed yesterday's three-miler, though at this point it's kind of a blur. Today's four-miler was so painful I am having trouble thinking of how to describe it. Here's what ran through my mind with every step -- it became a nice repetitive rhythm throughout: "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," etc. It is my shins. Boy howdy. It's not pretty. I tried to ice them after the run and stretch my calves as much as possible, since my sister tells me shins and calves are linked, but Jesu. The word on the street relative to shin pain seems to be that you have to rest, but that's not really feasible. It's primarily my inner shin, not the muscle that runs alongside the outside of the shin.

Best running song of the day: Mike Doughty's "I Hear the Bells." I never get tired of this song. I am always relieved when it comes on. I always run a little happier for its duration. For a moment, I forgot about my shins and thought only about the bells.

Does anyone have any tips for how to deal with shin pain when it's not really an option to rest for more than a day? The Internet says NOT to run through the pain.

Oops.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Catching up

The time came when it was time to leave Hawaii. It was a sad day indeed. I took a two-mile walk around S.'s neighborhood while she went to teach class, and we went out to lunch and for coffee. Then she took me to the airport for my overnight flight. I'll tell you how it was. Depressing. On the flight home, I basically broke my neck and could not move it for several days. I tried to order coffee at the airport Starbucks during my Houston layover, but I was so deliriously sleep-deprived that I just shook my head sadly at the barista when I got to the counter and walked away in a haze.

It was a weird adjustment being home. Being back to work and school instead of on vacation. The time change was crazily life-wrecking in a way that has really surprised me. And mostly I just miss my wonderful friend more than I can ever say.

Now I'm settled back at home, fearing emotional aneurysms daily relative to the election. My nerves are totally shot. I start weeping when I contemplate a certain outcome. My sister came into town, and she and B. and I did a little phone banking, which was a good experience. I've also started training for a half-marathon, which Erin and I are writing about over here.

Yesterday my sister and I went to a football game. It was fun. My shins hurt. I'll miss Mad Men after the season ends tonight. That's really all I can think of to say right now.

Week 2, Run 2

This morning's early two-mile run began with a momentary panic, as there were no treadmills available with TVs. 3/10 of a mile in, one opened up, so I hastily repositioned myself in front of Morning Joe for the second consecutive morning. I am wondering if this show has any credibility when the hosts are always telling the guests how great they look. Today there was a lot of talk about Iran as a superpower and not a lot of election excitement, so I mostly tuned it out and concentrated on my music and tried not to think about my tremendous calf pain.

I tried to go a little faster since it was only a two-miler, and my calves protested. I kept running because I guess some pain is inevitable. Post-run, it is my shins giving me trouble, but I plan to soldier on. I know that I need to spend more time after the run stretching out these sore spots, but it's hard to do that in the morning because I'm rushing around like a maniac. Hopefully once Daylight Saving Time ends and it's lighter outside earlier, I can do some of these morning runs outside and save myself some driving time. This is all very fascinating, I know.

I've been contemplating just what is happening when my muscles get so sore. Are they trying to tell me to stop? Are they just in shock from being used in this manner on a more regular basis and adjusting to the impact and strain? Once they become less sore, are they healing and stronger? Physiologically, this interests me. Of course I wish that running would suddenly give me strong, shapely legs, but I know I'm kidding myself. I always come back to the words of trainer Krista: "Building muscle is like prying each meaty cell loose from the jaws of a slobbery dog that likes the taste of steak. It doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't happen in a week. You may see it in a month... or three." (I love her whole site, by the way.)

For the past two mornings, I have run on the treadmill next to an elderly man who walks slowly while hooked up to an oxygen tank. I admire him a whole hell of a lot. The people who spray sticky sweat all over the treadmills and floor and don't bother cleaning up after themselves? I admire them not at all.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Week 2, Run 1

I woke up early this morning and stumbled blindly out the door in the darkness to head to the gym. It's always surprising to me when I get up super early to see that there are other people out and about doing their business at that hour.

But there they were, young and old, on treadmills and ellipticals and bikes and the weight machines. I planted myself in front of a TV tuned to MSNBC, which I rarely watch, and caught the beginning of Morning Joe. I have to say, watching political commentary makes three miles go by pretty quickly, especially when phrases like "sweeping victory" and "historic landslide" are being thrown around relative to Obama. One pro-McCain former secretary of state was on, saying over and over how Obama is "unknown" ... which reminds me of something I read yesterday. The truth is that he is NOT unknown to anyone who has been paying attention. That is just the way I feel about it. It's easy not to get to know someone you assume is the enemy because you stick your fingers in your ears and assume there's nothing to find out about him worth knowing. But he's been out there, working and writing and being written about for a really long time. He is no great mystery. That his opponents keep trying to shroud him in some veil of secrecy like he is a dangerous, foreign "unknown" is so ludicrous that it's laughable.

Whoops ... this is supposed to be a running blog. Well, this is what I was watching and thinking about while running this morning, and I'd guess people on treadmills all over America this morning were watching and thinking about the same thing, so I guess it's fair game.

This was my first run inside on a treadmill in a while, and here are the pros: you can run on a treadmill when it's dark outside, you can see and set exactly how fast you're going and how far you've run, and you can watch TV. Other than that, I'd pick outside on the road every time.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Week 2, Jillian!

I decided not to run today to give myself a rest after my "long" run of week one (4 miles). Instead, I decided to enlist the assistance of Jillian in my workout. I didn't want to go on a cardio rampage and blow the concept of "resting" so I decided to just do the strength and abs sections of the workout.

If anyone is unfamiliar with Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred, it's a workout DVD with three different levels. Each level features three circuits of strength, cardio, and abs. Before tonight, I'd only ever done level one. I decided to move up to level two but fast forward through the cardio sections because they tend to be pretty rough on the legs in terms of impact (lots of jumping jacks, jump roping, and so forth). The abs sections weren't that much tougher than level one, but boy howdy, were my shoulders screaming. I am a big fan of this DVD and hope to keep incorporating it into my routine. And I only use 3-pound hand weights. That's right, 3 pounds. And it's still really hard.

This is not very riveting information, but I want to keep track of this as I go along. The big news of the day half-marathon-wise is that I went ahead and registered for the race. Money is a big motivator in this day and age, and I'm hoping it will help me get out of bed tomorrow morning in the pitch blackness and head to the gym for my first run of week two. Now I am going to lie down, clutch my shoulders, and moan.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Week 1, Run 4

If there were ever a day perfectly created for outdoor activity, it was today. It was sunny and warm and cool at the same time and bright and clear. My first four-mile run in a very long time felt much longer than a three-miler, but it was okay. I kept reminding myself to enjoy the feel of the sun on my skin and the sight of the egrets and the ducks and the turtles sunning on their rocks. The highlight of the run was seeing B. approach from the other direction while on his ten-miler and slapping hands with him as we passed each other. It put a smile in my step.

And now for my running pet peeve of the day! I am guilty of being a person who formerly ran on the left side of the road. I liked to be able to see what was coming. I realize now how idiotic this is. Now that I've seen the error of my ways and run on the right side, I encounter people coming towards me (walking or running on their left side, so directly in my path), and more times than not, it's as if they expect me to go around them. In other words, I am to turn around and see if a car is coming behind me (which is not exactly easy while propelling in a forward direction) before I dart into traffic to go around them -- whereas it makes more sense for them to go around me because they don't have turn around to see what's coming since they are facing the oncoming traffic and they're the ones on the wrong side of the road. I've begun to stick strongly to my guns and not budge from the edge of the road, sort of forcing them to be the ones to step into the road since they can see what's coming and they're the ones not following the rules of the road. It seems only right. Am I wrong about this?

I'm happy I got all four runs in this week, this first week of training. Week two is a repeat of this week, and I find that comforting. I don't feel ready to ramp it up quite yet. I still can't really believe that I have committed to doing this, but here I am, 1/16th of the way done. Now I am going to reward myself by watching some Wonderfalls.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Week 1, Runs 1 through 3

On Sunday, I took an hour-long walk. It was a beautiful day, but I didn't have it in me to run. I was coming off of a week in Hawaii, where I'd done what I consider to be a fairly respectable amount of exercising for someone on vacation (a run here, a walk there, a hike here, an exercise class there), but I was feeling jet-lagged and a little hungover from getting drunk on beaches, mountains, Thai food, and Java Chip ice cream. Walking this route felt so different from running around it, and while taking it all in at a slower pace (let's face it, not that much slower), I couldn't help but remember all the time I spent on training runs out there when training for the half-marathon. I thought about what it felt like to start that training two years ago in a fall that felt a lot like this one and wondered what it would feel like to train for something like that again. The next day, I sat down and pulled up my old training chart from the fall of 2006, changing the race date to indicate 2009's date and working backwards to see when I would have needed to start training if I should decide to entertain such a possibility, fully expecting to see that I'd missed the beginning of the training period and that it was too late to think about doing it. And I went backwards, week after week, until I ended up at day one, which was that day. That very day! I decided it was a sign.

Two years ago, some friends and I discussed training for and running the race together, but none was ultimately able to for various reasons. I put out feelers to see who might be interested this time, and Erin said, "I'm in." That was all it took for me to move my commitment from shaky to solid, and I went on my first three-mile run of the sixteen-week training period that evening. I felt heavy and slow daunted by the 62 training runs ahead of me before the race, but I told myself that's okay, that I've never been fast and probably never will be, and I am fine with that, and I know I have to take it run by run.

After falling off the fitness wagon pretty much immediately after the last half-marathon for a good 15 months and HATING myself for it, I started exercising again in June of this year, and I'm really glad I've been doing 3 miles pretty regularly, since that's the mileage at which this training program starts. I feel like it's another little sign that there's no reason I shouldn't do this. Is 3 miles necessarily an easy distance? Hell no, but it's doable. Is it sort of a pain to build an entire week's schedule around the four runs? Yes. But a worthwhile one, surely. Last time, I avoided any cross training because I was convinced I would pull a muscle or hurt myself and my entire goal would go down the toilet. I was pretty neurotic about it, even though I see now that some strength training and different kinds of cardio would have certainly helped me in the long run. This time, I hope to stick with Chalene and Jillian and work out my whole body in an effort to get stronger all around and not just be so focused on miles, miles, miles.

Last night's 3-mile run, my second of the week, was very doom and gloom. Everything hurt. My knees, my ankles, my calves, my shins. Every step was a slog. I asked myself why I had committed myself to doing something I don't enjoy four times a week for the next four months.

This morning I woke up with a renewed attitude and hit the road for my two-miler of the week. It was cool and cloudy, and my spirit was lifted by two songs in particular, "Waiting for the Light to Shine (Reprise)" and "Louder than Words," and I was reminded about one thing I do actually enjoy about running ... the opportunity to listen to music I love. These songs made my heart sing and my feet move a little faster. It was my best run of the week so far, for sure, and I remembered that this is just how it goes ... some runs are downright miserable, some are fine, and some are even sort of good. It goes up and down, just like everything else in life. Running is clearly emotional exercise as well as physical exercise. Plus, on this morning's run, I spotted two more Obama yard signs that had gone up on my street. I caught myself shouting "Yes!" and pumping my fist in the air in a moment of truly dorky, hopeful exuberance.

Mostly I just want to feel that pride in myself that I only feel when I decide to do something and actually stick with it, even if it's really hard. That's something I don't do all that often. And I want to take care of myself, and running increasing miles every week for 16 weeks is a mighty fine way to do that. Looking back, it feels a little different this time because last time there was the ever-looming question of can I do this? Can I actually run 13.1 miles without stopping to walk? (In my mind, the slowest jog in the world, what I ultimately did, was acceptable. Walking = not acceptable. That is just the mindset I was in.) I never believed that I could do it until I did, and I was obsessed with that question and that distance even though it's just an arbitrary number. Now that I know that I can, it's less about achieving that seemingly impossible feat and more about just putting in the miles and hours and weeks of getting to that place. And the bonus is that I get to share it with a friend who understands why this process is important to me because it's just as important to her.

I don't love running. It hurts, it's hard, and it's mostly hella boring. But I love knowing that I'll do it anyway. That doesn't make a lot of sense, but it makes just enough sense to feel right.

(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)

Last full day in Hawaii

My last full day in Hawaii was another fun day. We got up early in the morning and went on a tour of Pearl Harbor on the Admiral's Barge.

(Photo by S.)

It was a small group of people, as this is a tour you can only go on if you're with a member of the military. Since S.'s husband is in the Navy, we were in like Flynn. It was a gorgeous day on the water, and if I love anything, let's face it, it's a good history lesson on the history of war. Being at the actual site of the events was amazing. Riding on a boat while doing so was just gravy. We learned all about the area, the ships in the harbor, and the events of December 7, 1941. I was particularly struck by the presence of the U.S.S. Missouri, on which Japan surrendered at the end of WWII. And the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial was, of course, very moving, particularly the area listing the names of survivors who chose to be interred upon their deaths later in life with their shipmates.

After our tour, we headed to nearby battleship (?), on the deck (?) (not good with my Navy terminology) of which S.'s husband had a promotion ceremony. It was very, very cool. The military life is very foreign to me, but I'm getting a closer look at it now through the eyes and experiences of my closest friend and her husband (my junior prom date!). The best thing about this ship besides the ceremony was seeing the launch site of the missile that shot down the space shuttle.

We celebrated his promotion at the Dixie Grill, sucking down beers and water and fries and mahi mahi sandwiches after roasting in the sun on the ship. It was fun to hang out with their friends, who came along.

After that, it was time for pajamas, Thai leftovers, Java Chip ice cream, and the presidential debate. The next day, it was time to leave and return to real life, but I'm choosing not to think about that.

Livin' the dream

After our day at the beach, we decided on a day of rest. It was a day of laundry doing, General Hospital watching, and spaghetti making. We did venture outside for a two-mile jog around the neighborhood, which was (a) hilly and (b) hot but still nice. We finished off the day watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which made us laugh a whole lot.

Which brings us to yesterday. We drove back into Haleiwa to visit S.'s favorite coffee shop, the Coffee Gallery. It was as cute as she promised ... she got a drink called the Coconator and I got an iced hazelnut soy latte.

We snacked on things called California Bars and Banana Date Blobs and sat outside on the patio with some chickens, talking about The Sopranos (which she is just finishing for the first time) and Deadwood (which I'm encouraging her to watch next).

Next she took us to the Soap Factory, housed in an old sugar mill. It smelled like heaven, and we bought some soap for the road. We stopped in a shop next-door that's also a coffee factory; I was talked into a sample and luckily noticed the small worm floating in it before taking the first sip.

We were left wondering which beach to visit. So we headed along the North Shore, and each beach was of course more stunning than the one we just passed. Ultimately we decided to visit Turtle Bay, where her parents stayed when they were here and where Forgetting Sarah Marshall was filmed. Like geeks, we got excited to see the things like the desk where Mila Kunis worked, the bar, the restaurant, and so forth. The beach there was lovely and relaxing and we settled into the sand with our mango (her) and raspberry (me) slushies and magazines.

I have only met two locals here who were anything less than friendly -- one at the farmer's market, who became livid when I realized I had just spent $10 on four mango/peach scones (I dislike both mangoes and peaches) instead of four cheese biscuits and asked to exchange them, unopened and paid for 5 seconds before, for something else. And one was on the beach at Turtle Bay. He wanted to sell us some "Hawaiian art," and when we (politely) declined, he set off on a tirade about how visitors act like "they" offend us, but it is we who offend them. He said, "You're looking at someone who's pure." Then as we packed up to leave, he told us to go ahead and leave because we'd spent enough time on "their" beaches. Then he called out to S. as we once again politely declined his offer to sell us some art, "You live here! You should know better!" S. has lots of thoughts and insights into the "us" vs. "them" situation in Hawaii, and I have to say it's pretty damn fascinating.

We walked along the shore back to the car and did not leave until embarking on a covert mission led by the intrepid S. to find the beach cottages where Aldous, Sarah Marshall, and Jason Segel stayed in the movie. It was exciting.

We then headed home, at which point we headed to two exercise classes she was teaching. One used all balls ... the body ball, the medicine ball, the pilates ball. Thankfully, it was only 30 minutes because though it was fun, it was hard! Next came Rep Reebok, and I have to say that it was also tough but I loved it! I kept thinking how much my sister would like this class. My friend is a great teacher.

We got some Thai take-out and headed home; S. and her husband watched Heroes, and I took to my bed to watch the season premiere of Friday Night Lights online (wonderful), and that was the end of yesterday. It was another great day; apparently there are no bad days in Hawaii.

Hawaii, Day 3

Our day began with a drive to the Valley of the Temples at the foot of the Koʻolau Mountains.

The mountains were mindblowingly huge and beautiful. The whole temple and burial ground area was very peaceful and calming.

After wandering the grounds for a little while, we headed into Kailua, where we had sushi for lunch. S. was quick to point out the side of "mac salad" that apparently comes with everything in Hawaii whether you order it or not. Good to know!

Our next top was Bellows Beach. The moment we parked the car, it started pouring down rain.

We woefully watched the rain through the car windows, but it stopped a few minutes later. Hooray! We relaxed in the sand for a few minutes before deciding to brave the water. It wasn't nearly as cold as the water at Chun's. S. explained that Chun's is a reefy bottom and Bellows is a sandy bottom, which means at the latter we could swim without fear of being slammed into a volcanic rock and dying. The waves were super strong and knocked us over multiple times, but it was very fun and thrilling and outstanding in that way that only being smashed around by ocean waves can be. S. yelled, "The Pacific isn't very pacific!" We took lots of pictures of ourselves throughout.

We swam until we couldn't swim anymore, and then we headed home along a winding mountain road. We pulled over immediately when we saw a sign reading "Scenic Point." It was scenic, alright. It was the Halona Blowhole, and it was gorgeous and breathtaking and all of those other adjectives that don't begin to capture what it felt like to stand up there.

After sufficiently taking in the glory of the view, we drove home through a very ritzy part of the island. We stared with mouths agape at the HUGE movie star mansions on the mountain and decided to try to see if we could get up there. We could not, as we would learn from a security guard who laughed in our faces. It was called Hawaii Loa Ridge. In my mind, the stars of Lost live there.

We got back to the house, showered, ate pizza, and collapsed. It was another really exhausting and really wonderful day.

Hawaii, Day 2

On my first night in Hawaii, I could only sleep until 3 a.m. Two hours later, S. and I departed in the dark to the gym for her 6 a.m. spinning class. She helped me set up my bike and made sure I was good to go. Her group of regulars was there. It was awesome to see her in action. I've known her for 25 years now, but I've never seen her in teacher mode, and she was a natural! So proud of her. What I was not so proud of were my knees, which screamed even as I pedaled with zero resistance at 0.00000001 mph. Whatever muscles knees need to ride a bike? Mine apparently don't have. Not to mention that my entire nether regions felt like they were in a state of severe pain and torture. So I meekly climbed off five minutes into class and headed to the treadmill in the next room. Never did I think it would feel so good to run two miles. Anything was paradise next to that bike. I am a little sad that I am not equipped for my friend's expertise, but what can you do? After her class, I headed back over, where I was informed by one of her regulars, who was gifting her with two homegrown avocados, how wonderful she is and how much they all love her. Heart=warmed. So nice!

After the gym, we headed to a fancy mall for iced hazelnut soy lattes ... yum. This mall is akin to Rodeo Drive ... Tiffany, Harry Winston, Prada, Gucci, Jimmy Choo, Louis Vuitton, and so forth. Fancy. Apparently lots of rich people either live in or travel to Honolulu to do their shopping. Then we returned to the house (in a town nearby), drove past the very lovely park where they got married, and prepared for our hike!

This is a favorite hike of hers on the North Shore, the Kaunala Trail.

She told me it would be "easy" but perhaps her fitness ease is different from mine considering she is a fitness instructor. At one point along the trail, we began to encounter many fallen trees blocking the path.

We would climb over them and under them and around them and it was sort of like maneuvering around town post-Gustav. This was very flummoxing and she kept saying, "I've never seen the trail look like this!" Finally she realized that was the case because we weren't actually on the trail. We found the trail and from then on it was mostly smooth sailing. Despite some hard inclines, it was definitely beautiful.

It took about 2.5 hours to get to the destination, a lookout where you can see the ocean down below and the mountains in the horizon.

It was very beautiful indeed, and we plopped down happily to have a snack, but it started raining shortly thereafter. Alas. The hike down was very muddy as the path has been overrun by tractors lately putting in some communications lines. But we still had plenty of fun.

Afterwards, we headed to lunch in a cute town called Haleiwa and ate BBQ chicken pizza and salads at Pizza Bob's. And then we went to the beach! A beach called Chun's. The North Shore is apparently famous for its beaches/surfing. I went into the water in my shorts & sports bra because I was a little bashful about changing in the car. The water was cold but clear and AWESOME. Word to the wise ... the currents here don't exactly feel like those in the Gulf of Mexico (duh). You don't have to go out very far to quickly be too deep to stand, and the currents really knock you around. I floated around for a while blissfully until I got pruney, but then I came in because I got a little nervous about the currents ... there are huge rocks and it wouldn't take much to smash into one! Anyway, it was so fun and relaxing to swim and the surfers were very cool and it was all stunningly beautiful to behold.

Then we came back here and S. cooked us a delicious dinner of fish, corn on the cob, and broccoli. I managed to stay awake until 8 pm at which point I collapsed. It was a great day.

Aloha!

Here I am in sunny Hawaii in "The Sanctuary," otherwise known as S.'s guest room. It is what we named her old bedroom in Jersey City, so beautifully decorated and warm that it could be called nothing else. She has recreated it here, thousands of miles and a whole new life away, and I am lucky enough to be settled in at 5:40 p.m. Hawaii time (10:40 p.m. home time) and I can't wait to start snoozing.

I got up at 3:15 a.m. home time to begin the journey here ... the flight was long and surreal. I tried to sleep but I think I am fundamentally incapable of sleeping on planes or in any other kind of public situation. I was explaining to S. that one of my least favorite experiences in life is being startled. I think I cannot relax on a plane enough to fall asleep because I dread too much that moment when the man next to me taps me on the shoulder so he can cross over me to go to the bathroom and I know that moment will make me jump out of my skin. I am not sure what this says about me, but there you go.

I truly do feel that planes must be nightmares for many people who cannot fit comfortably in the seats, and I wish airlines would have seating that accommodates all shapes and sizes of people, and I know it was not the man's fault because he had to recline significantly in order to fit into his seat, but he reclined so much that I could not tilt my TV screen in order to see what was playing or work my tray properly when it was time for food and beverages. I kept telling myself there are worse problems to have in life so I just listened to hour after hour of Without a Trace, which is not a half-bad show. I listened to an episode of CSI Miami, which my mother inexplicably loves, and it was not good. I hope it is not a spoiler to say that when the character who appears to be played by the best actress on the show leaves, I don't see the point in continuing to watch. The truth is that I have never seen an episode of CSI that I've enjoyed and I think it's just not my kind of show. I also listened to an episode of CSI New York out of sheer boredom and I am not sure who decided that pairing a powerhouse like Gary Sinese with the likes of Melina Kanakaredes was a good idea. I also caught about two-thirds of Hancock (lame).

One of the highlights of the trip was spending some time listening to the airplane's Broadway channel. I heard "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" from The Lion King, what I think was "A Step Too Far" from Aida (Do I need to know this musical? Is it good?), and "Untitled Opening Number" and "Two Nobodies from New York" from [title of show], both of which I LOVED, and I plan to buy that soundtrack immediately. And that was my plane ride to Hawaii!

S. greeted me with a beautiful lei and a fruit smoothie, and we headed to her beautiful house to watch the vice presidential debate, during which we actually writhed on the floor and hid our faces in mortification. To our eyes, Palin was a pathetic failure. We watched in horror after the debate as commentator after commentator praised her. We are frightened for this nation.

Tomorrow: North Shore hike! Aw, yeah.