What Have You Got to Show for Yourself?

I wrote the following in July of 2016 and it still rings true today in March of 2024. 

The ever-present questions: What do you do? What do you want to do with your life? What have you got to show for yourself? Where are we going? Is this going anywhere? Why do we ask these questions? Why do we have to be something? Can’t we just be? Where do we have to go? Isn’t the point of life just living? Why do we have a need for some major goal, some end point, or some massive achievement? Why can’t we just go through day-to-day living with joy and let that be enough? Why can’t a daily run be enough without a race? Why can’t preparing a meal from whole fresh ingredients be enough without a lime, fig, Viognier reduction with tarragon kohlrabi coulis and roasted pistachios? Why can’t a happy, healthy woman be enough without a child and/or a career and a “successful” husband? 

I fret constantly over what I have or haven’t achieved in life; the fact that I have nothing concrete to show for my 57 (now 64) years of scrambling. But what is really concrete about a house that can burn down or tumble down in an earthquake? What is good about being tied to a house that owns you? What is solid about a career that takes up more than half your waking life unless that career is also your passion, and how many people truly have that? I’ve always struggled with a need to strive for something but often have to scramble to find a target to shoot for. Sometimes my target is random, grabbed out of a hat just to have something out there. 

If I’m honest with myself, here is how I really want it to go. I awake, slightly predawn in my tiny, cozy apartment, meditate before leaving bed. Then I drink my green drink or coffee while a read a chapter in my latest library book. Then I do a little dynamic stretching before going for a sunrise run on trails around my home. As the sun climbs I return home for a quick shower, a protein smoothie and a cup of green tea before shooting a few early morning photos of the surrounding scenery and a particularly stunning dewy spider web sparkling in the sun. Then I sit down to my computer to write my daily blog, edit and submit photos for stock sites and develop query letters for the book I have planned but don’t care if I ever really finish. 

In the afternoon I go for a swim or a bike ride or another run or a hike then I get together with a friend or a group of friends, and we take our time fixing a healthy, simple meal together, maybe sip some wine, or fresh squeezed lemonade. And we talk about our day, what we’re grateful for, our families, the world, and life. Maybe some instruments come out and we sing a couple songs. 

Simple. Slow. Stress free…

But wait! That Baker Lake 50k was so fun. Maybe I should do that again. And I still want to tour Central Asia. And a van tour of National Parks would be fun. And I still haven’t learned Spanish or German. And I DO have a book in me that needs to be written! 

What's a girl to do, but continue to strive, to seek the new, to be an adventurer, to keep on learning? I guess now I understand why my favorite song on the piano, when taking lessons as a kid, was a piece called Perpetual Motion. 

SMOKE

Cane fire viewed from my lanai in Paia

Although I was never a smoker, (not cigarettes anyway) I’ve had an intimate relationship with smoke and fire for so many years. When the sugar cane industry was thriving on Maui, the method of harvesting was to first burn the field, to clear away the leaves and the tops, allowing just the valuable cane stalk to be cut and gathered. The resulting smoke plumes from these fires went so high that they created weather. We called the resulting ash fallout Maui snow. When I worked on boats there, we would sometimes have to hose off the boat 2 or 3 times in the early morning before our passengers showed up for their snorkel trip, so they weren’t sitting in ash. 

For 10 of the 30 years I lived on Maui, I lived right on a cane field, so not only did the smoke affect me but also, the wind-blown dirt from the empty fields after the harvest, added a daily layer of red dirt to everything in my house. Not to mention, the displaced scorpions, centipedes and cane spiders taking up residence with me once their homes had been burned.

Once the cane industry shut down in 2016, the fields were left fallow, not cleared, not watered, just a dry tinderbox of leaves, getting scorched in the drought, so wildfire became a thing on the island. 

When I moved to Washington 3 years ago, the first summer was a brutal fire season, with the AQI sometimes hitting over 500. A good deal of time was spent indoors with AC and air filters on. I have friends who lost their homes in the Camp Fire in Paradise, CA. and in the Almeda Fire in Phoenix, OR. 

But the Lahaina fire on August 8, 2023 hit hardest. I’ve finally stopped crying every time I look at the photos. I have many friends who lost their homes but luckily all my family and friends there are alive, though traumatized. 

So how to bring this story to an upbeat end? It’s difficult. But when I see the huge outpouring of love and support from the entire Hawaiian community, I am lifted. Everyone is giving all of themselves, all that they have, to those who lost everything. Everyone I know has opened their homes and have people sleeping on floors and couches. Everyone I know is donating so much of their own household goods, clothing, food. The aloha spirit is strong. And others around the world are helping as well. So, there is hope, and that warms my heart. 

And smoke makes for some stunning sun rises.

Sunrise with wildfire smoke. Yakima, WA

Shallow Roots or Flying Free?

There’s something weird about the light and the smells in the Caribbean. When I worked on a live-aboard dive boat down here, motoring up and down the islands, I always felt a vague unease. The light wasn’t right. The salt air had the wrong scent. I loved parts of being here, the food, the music, some of the people, but something was off. My personal vibration never matched the Caribbean vibration. 

So different from my experience in Hawaii. From the first time I stepped foot on Maui at the age of 9, it felt right, I felt at home. Hawaii was unlike the Northern California coast I grew up on. The cold, fresh salt air smells of Inverness and Tomales bay were nothing like the smells of plumeria and pikake in Hawaii, but somehow Hawaii made sense to me. 

I’ve left the islands now and with the recent devastation on Maui, although I feel pulled to go help, I will not return to use up much needed resources. Although I spent the bulk of my life there, basically growing up there, it is not my true home. I was not born there. I was a transplant, and although I felt accepted as a “local haole”, it does not feel like my place, like I belong. 

I was born in Oakland, California and spent my first 15, sometimes harrowing, years there. But that is not my place either. So where is home? Where are my roots? I don’t know. My maternal grandparents were immigrants, hailing from Spain and Denmark, but I feel no compulsion to explore those roots. 

So I wander, I move, I relocate, I explore. I guess there's nothing wrong with that, if I shift my perspective from feeling ungrounded to feeling light and free. I'm good at nesting wherever I am. I'm good at building friendships and keeping a nice cozy residence. 

I'm feeling introspective here as I visit my ailing sister. Feeling the preciousness of life, and of family, and of home. It's interesting that us siblings have scattered, the sisters to islands on opposite sides of the globe. Maybe those immigrant genes have more affect than we know. Maybe we're all wanderers with shallow roots, meant to explore and change and discover new places, new cultures, new lives. Life is so mysterious. 

Below are photos from Christiansted, including my sweet Airbnb. 

My Airbnb

Courtyard of my Airbnb

View inland from my room

View from my room towards the bay.

Wonderland By the Numbers

Things didn't go as planned. Things didn't even go according to my modified plans. Basically, things were whack! But considering that I missed out on a substantial block of training due to work, had to maneuver around wildfire smoke and heatwave during training, and was malnourished, I think I did OK for a 62 year old woman who was never really a runner before the age of 40 and whose first ultra was run at the age of 58. 

Some of you may have read about the h pylori gut bacteria that put a crimp in my training for the Wonderland run. The good news is that the antibiotics seem to have subdued the bug. The bad news is that the antibiotics upset my stomach and for the first two days of the Wonderland trip I felt like crap while I was still taking the meds. 

My modified plan was to ride the support van to the campgrounds and do out and back runs. What I didn't know is that the ride to the camp included long stops for re-supplying, meaning that once settled in camp there wasn't time for much more than a quick jaunt. 

So while I am sorely disappointed that I was only able to complete about a third of the course, I am still proud of the fact that I far surpassed my fundraising goal which is truly what the whole thing was about anyway. So huge thanks to all who donated to support Breast Cancer Prevention Partners.

Here's the low down.

Day One - drove to Ashford WA with my friends Janet and Theresa, camped at Big Creek campground for our first group dinner. 

Day Two - drove to Longmire to the start of the Wonderland trail. Bid farewell to the runners heading out. Hopped in the support van to head to the Mowich Lake Campground, stopping for groceries along the way. Set up camp in the rain then headed up for a wet hike/run to Eunice Lake. One of the other runners had bailed about 6 miles in because she was sick but she managed to hitch a ride to the camp. Three other runners rolled into camp with the sweep, in the dark at about 8pm, exhausted and soaked from the rain. I was thankful I had opted out of that day of 34 miles and almost 10k elevation gain. 

Day Three - packed up camp and again watched the runners take off for the next leg of the run. Drove to White River camp and headed out for a gorgeous 6 mile run/hike with glacier and mountain views. 

Pretty much feeling like a failure or a fraud around the dinner table that night as the other runners told their tales from the main trail. Any athlete can tell you how hard it is to be in that position, sick and sidelined, and how deep in your head you can get. While I was enjoying the company and the views that I did get, I was seriously bummed to be missing out on the big challenge. But I took my last dose of antibiotics in the morning and was able to eat a little more that night so I prepped my pack as though I were going to run the next day.

Day Four - Woke up at 3am still unsure of my gut but put my head down, packed my tent and gear, put on my pack and at 4am headed out with my headlamp to tackle the 20 miles to Box Canyon. Saw the sunrise on Mt. Rainier with the alpine-glow pinkness lighting up the sky. My gut was not happy, but I was. I had to make 6 forays into the bush to dig cat holes to alleviate my touchy tummy but it was worth it. Every turn in the trail had me exclaiming out loud at the astounding beauty and grandeur of the place. Photos don't do it justice. It took me a long time to do 22 miles and I was pretty tired of climbing by the end of it but I'm SO so glad I got out there.

The Aspire crew was at Box Canyon with an aid station so I was able to avoid the final 12 miles of the route, a brutal stretch of climbing, during the heat of the day.

The crew from Aspire Adventure Running was top notch, catering to my every need, making sure I could amend the program to fit how I was feeling and it was great to have my support crew to hike with and to boost my moral on those down days. 

So here are some numbers to wrap your head around:

Training Miles Run - 473
Training Elevation Gain 69,663 feet
Training Calories Burned 47,750

Wonderland Miles run - 33.02
Total elevation gain - 6986
Calories burned 4000

Maybe I'll head back next year and make another attempt of the 93 miles. Or maybe I'll tackle something more reasonable. Time will tell. Oh, almost forgot to mention, I ended up with poison oak or ivy! Fortunately it was a mild case but what a way to cap off the wonderful Wonderland journey. You just have to laugh. 

Running on Empty: Or how an alien invasion hijacked my Wonderland training.

 

Another title for this post could be Why Training Malnourished is not Advised.

Those of you who have been following along on my training journey for the Wonderland Trail, know that I've had some struggles along the way, both mental and physical. I lost a big block of training to work, smoke and heatwave and struggled to keep positive and stay mentally focused. I've had some good runs but also some pretty hard ones. I've had moments of berating myself for letting myself get weak and slow. 

Some time in April or May I started having some gut issues, feeling bloated with a low appetite. June came with a lot of work and some erratic eating. In July, my belly started behaving more strangely, continually rumbling and growling. I felt like there was an alien in my belly ready to rip it's way out and scream across the room. After long runs I could only eat tiny amounts before feeling overfull and I felt as though I wasn't absorbing any of the nutrients I was ingesting. 

I knew something was wrong. After trying a holistic approach with changes to my diet and some herbal remedies nothing was changing so I went to my doctor. 

After a slew of blood tests and a test where I had to breathe into a pouch, I got a message that my TSH (thyroid hormone) was wildly out of whack, I was hypothyroid, and she had called in a new prescription that should fix my problem right up. I've had low thyroid before and I've never had accompanying gut issues, so while I was happy to hear that the thyroid meds would help with my energy levels I still felt something else was wrong. And I was right. There was indeed AN ALIEN in my gut! 

The breath test showed that I have h pylori, a bacteria that can come from unclean or improperly cooked food. (I'm loath to eat in restaurants now) It weakens the stomach lining causing gas and bloating and can cause an inability to absorb nutrients. I have basically been training malnourished for the last several months. 

I'm so relieved to have an answer and to know that I haven't just been being wimpy. After the first week of antibiotics I am feeling SO much better. I have more energy, I'm less bloated and my appetite is back. I'm still not 100% but I'll have at least a fighting chance to put in some decent miles on the Wonderland. I depart for Mt. Rainier on Wednesday and start running on Thursday. 

I have already decided to modify my run. The first day is 34 miles and almost 10,000 feet of elevation gain and although I have a Garmin InReach tracker for safety, I don't want to have to use the SOS on it. So I will ride the sag van to the first campsite and do an out-and-back run of however many miles feels safe. After that I will play days two and three by ear and do as much as I can without causing damage. 

Today I'm organizing my gear for the trip. I'm feeling optimistic and ready for the journey, no matter how many miles I manage to travel. In the long run what matters is raising dollars for Breast Cancer Prevention Partners. I'm so grateful for the donations from supporters who make a difference in the health of our planet and its people. If you'd like to donate go to https://donate.bcpp.org/Wonderland

Stay tuned for the trip report!