Sarah Too

My dear friend said 2009 would be the year of joy. She was somehow clairvoyant. 2009 graced me with many blessings. Those many moments of joy would not have been possible without all of you -- my amazing friends and family that inspire me daily. I hope the holidays find all of you counting your own blessings. I count you among mine, and I hope that 2010 beings much more laughter than tears, more hopes than fears, and many unexpected joys. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Well, hello there!! Here it is, a few days after completing the Ragnar Relay -- Florida Edition, and I can say confidently that I would do it all again. It was, in two words, freaking amazing! I'll do my best to capture the highlights of how it all went down, at least from the perspective of Van 1...Hold on to your hats, kids!

Friday, November 20

7 AM
Here it is: game time. At Daphne's house, members of Van 1 for Twisted Blister fuel up with bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches. I don't know if it is the hour of the day, but damn, these sammies taste something wonderful. As does the coffee. Already I am diggin' our support crewmember, Erik, for firing up the oven and getting these sammies started.

8 AM
We're on the road to the start of the relay in Tarpon Springs, FL, which is about an hour north of St. Pete. Don't Nicole and I look so happy?

Maybe we only look happy because of Jake's entertaining reading of the race rules from the race bible, or maybe it's just the sight of Erik's driving outfit...

9 AM
We arrive at Fred H. Howard Park in Tarpon Springs, just as the first runners of the 9 AM start time teams take off. We're feelin' jumpy and excited as we pile out of the van and wait for the arrival of the rest of Team Twisted Blister. When they arrive, our team gets checked in, receives our runner and van numbers (we're team #38). And I get to work on decorating Van 2:


Minutes to 10 AM
Before our first runner hits Leg 1, we take a moment to capture all of Team Twister Blister -- fresh, awake, and feelin' lively.


Moments after this shot, Sara headed up to the start line for last minute instructions from the Race Staff ("No pooping along the course. Ever."), then started Leg 1 of our 36-legs long relay. Whoa, Nelly. This sh*t has really started, and goes a little something like this:

Our van follows each of our runners, usually stopping at the midway point of each leg to check on the runner and provide water, if needed. This day started out slightly overcast, but the clouds have burned off. While there is a slight breeze in the air, it is still a rather warm day, especially with the sun directly on you. Over the course of 6 legs (with me being Runner #4), we wind our way inland from Tarpon Springs. I ran my first leg of 5.8 miles at about a 10 min/mile clip, and considering my lack of running up until this day, I feel very good about that pace. I hope it holds up. At Exchange #6, we hand the baton, which is a slap bracelet (FOR REAL), to Van 2.

At Exchange #6, Van 1 realizes that we're pretty close to Nicole and Jake's house, and that we have quite a bit of time to burn while Van 2 is doin' their thang for Team Twisted Blister. So, we roll on over their house for showers, pizza, and a movie. Seriously. It feels fantastic to rinse off the grime, and catch some rest. We're only 1/3 of the way there, folks.

8-ish PM
Van 1 joins Van 2 at Exchange #12. It is d-a-r-k, yo. In the back roads of Central-ish Florida. We're at a teeny tiny state park, a gabillion vans and vehicles are jammed all up along the access road, and there are S'mores.

[Side note: there is no way anyone would lose any pounds on this relay because we seriously ate almost the whole time we were not running. Unless you're one of those freaks that decides the Ultra Running version of this relay would be more fun (i.e., 6-man teams, versus 12-man teams like us, and DOUBLE the total mileage), you're not going to have trouble keeping up with the calories you burn.]

9-ish PM
It's time for Van 1 to start their night runs. Better have the safety gear on...

Headlamps, blinking butt lights, and safety vests are required on all persons not in the van at night. Fortunately, we are allowed to have a cyclist alongside our runners at night, so I was not alone when I ran my 5.1 miles along backwoods county routes with tractor trailer trucks zooming by at 55+ mph. One real peach of a driver felt it was necessary to pass on the left AT A RUNNER EXCHANGE POINT as a relay van slowed to pull over and off the road. Yeah, we love your redneck pickup truck, too, ya prick. Sorry, I'm still a little miffed about that one.

Saturday, November 21
12 AM
I finish my leg in about 51 minutes, staying on track with my earlier pace. Once I get back in the van, I pretty much couch out. I am tired and I have little energy, so I drift in and out of consciousness, and I don't think I ever really fall asleep during the night. I do remember hearing about Nicole's tumble over the rumble strips of a bridge during her run. She escaped with a some scratched up palms, a big bruise on her knee, and maybe a little wounded pride, but it was dark out there, man. As Jake would say repeatedly, "It's hell out there! You see it out there? It is HELL."

2 AM
Britt, the last runner for our van, finished her leg, and we're 2/3 of the way done with Ragnar 2009. I, by the way, am still in my sweaty, smelly, running clothes and am passed out on my van bench. Erik and Tim, our second driver, take us to Exchange #18 where there is open space outside to lay down a tarp and catch some zzzzz-s before Van 2 finishes their legs. Too bad the park sprinklers are running, there is a high dew point, and there are roosters crowing in the background. Good thing I am still in the van, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position underneath my bathrobe, which is acting as a blanket.

6:30 AM
Rise and shine Van 1!!! It is time to get moving and get running! I know you're all bright-eyed AND bushy-tailed...



The sun is rising, and Van 2 had some adventures in the night. A runner got off course during one of the legs, and there was some backtracking to get back to the relay course. The last runner in the van, Mike, ran at "dog speed" through Cracktown during his leg, leaving his safety biker in the dust. The beach cruiser we used had a couple of broken spokes already, and Brian had to fix a broken chain in Cracktown before rolling into Exchange #18 about 5-10 minutes behind Mike, after Mike already handed off the baton to Sara. Brian and Mike tell us all about it...


Because we didn't see Van 2 roll into the exchange point before Mike, the race volunteer had to shout our team number several times before we realized Mike arrived and was ready to hand off the baton. Sara sprinted to the exchange point and took off on her leg. Fortunately there was enough sunlight that safety gear was no longer required on the course.

7:30 AM
Bacon, egg, and cheese time at Dunkin' Donuts!! Oh, heavenly coffee, too!!


10 AM
For Van 1, these are our final legs of the Ragnar. It is motivation enough to know that once I finish my leg, I am done for the rest of the weekend! I am so excited that my last leg is short, too -- only 2.7 miles. I set a goal of finishing it in 25 minutes. Tooooo bad I catch EVERY red light at the HUGE intersections of traffic I have to cross, which adds an extra 3 or so minutes to my time. I finish strong, though, and I think I could have run even more mileage.


12 PM
Exchange #30. Van 1 is D-O-N-E. Britt brought it home, and Brian took off with the baton. Van 2 will bring us to the finish line in Daytona. Let's review the damage...


A stop at McDonald's and a mini-mart for beer give us our post-race rewards. And also put the runners to sleep on the way to Daytona.

2 PM
Checked-in to our hotel rooms, showered, and on our (at least) 2nd beer. Van 2 is still truckin' toward the finish line, while we survey the scene.

4:30 PM
Jacob's 5-man Ultra team crosses the finish line. This amazing team was a man short and started an hour later than Team Twisted Blister. They ran continuously through the night, with barely a blink of shut-eye for any of them. In a total time of 26 hours, 38 minutes, and 48 seconds, their team finished in 19th place overall, out of a field of 105. I'm so proud to see them finish SO strong!



Notice the awesome race medals -- bottle opener included!!

All of us join Mike, the final runner for Team Twisted Blister, to run with him across the finish line. Team Twisted Blister finished in 53rd place with a time of 32 hours, 7 minutes, 52 seconds. Amazing!!


That was pretty much the end of our night. I caught up with Jacob and his team, to hear how their experience went, and to give an account of our adventures across the state. On Sunday, everyone headed home.

Final Notes
I had an amazing time with my team during this relay, especially my van-mates. We had fun and cheered each other along to the finish. I very much liked the team aspect of this race, and I would love it if this were not my last relay. And to put a cherry on top of it all, Team Twisted Blister reached and EXCEEDED our fundraising goal of $2,000 for The Kenya Education Fund. With your help, we completely funded one student's 4-year education. Thank you to everyone for your support and generous donations! Team Twisted Blister really could not achieved anything without all of you.

Hi y'all. I am FREAKING. OUT. Tonight we load up the relay vans, in preparation for the Ragnar Relay - Florida edition. Tomorrow morning at 10 AM, Team Twisted Blister hits the road running. We start in Tarpon Springs, FL and finish in Daytona, FL, a distance of 203 miles. I will run a total of 13.6 miles over the course of 3 legs and about 30 hours. Part of my anxiety stems from the fact that I have not been able to train in the way I wanted or needed. In early September, in midst of my exuberance at starting a new season of training and running, I came down with a significant set of shin splints. Besides a few 5K runs here and there, and a few 3-4 miles long runs every now and again, I have not been running as much as needed to prepare for this race. So, I'm feeling a little worried.

I am also feeling really excited! My body feels ready to run, and to run far -- like all the waiting and resting has geared my body up for an explosion of endurance. Let's just hope that explosion doesn't cause me to implode at the finish line. I am also excited about finally having all 12 members of our team members together, cheering each other on in what is most certain to be a great adventure filled with many moments of hilarity and comic relief. Additionally, I am comforted by the fact that I am running a total of only 13.6 miles, and not 30 or 40 miles like the 6-person Ultra teams (ahem, Jacob), or all 203 miles by myself, like one crazy Dude.

In the end, I know Team Twisted Blister physically will make it to the finish line in Daytona, and I am already most grateful to the dozens of our friends and family that have contributed to our fundraising campaign for The Kenya Education Fund. I am humbled by the outpouring of generosity from all of our donors, as well as the encouragement everyone has given us as we prepared for this relay. It would not be possible for Team Twisted Blister to reach the finish line without all of your support. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, and those of my teammates!

Food. It is what makes my world go round. More precisely, it is what connects my world. It nourishes, it excites. For the 4th year running, I had my annual potluck fall food fest. It started in 2006 as a housewarming where I unveiled my hand-decorated wood kitchen table to a group of five close girlfriends. My kitchen table has the words "To eat, and to drink, and to be merry" scripted around its circumference. That is pretty much the mantra of Fall Food Fest, which celebrates the nostalgia of autumns past in the North -- apples, cinnamon, pies, stews, comfort food. From such small beginnings, the celebration has expanded to more than 30 people attending each year, filling my backyard and my home with gloriously executed recipes.

I promised some friends and family that this year I would take photos. I broke my promise. May my words be enough to satisfy. The weather cooperated completely, and the night was cool and perfectly clear. As usual, the tasty beverages of fall -- wine, cider, pumpkin beer -- were downstairs, outside. The fire pit was a blaze of freshly felled oak from Kathryn's yard. A mellow soundtrack drifted across the yard from stereo perched in the windows in my living room. Along the walk, two tables with candles housed all cold dishes. As guests arrived, they covered the table with pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin cranberry bars, pumpkin cheese dip, pumpkin butter dip, apple chocolate chip pie, guacamole, spicy mexican dip, and more. Inside, on all available surfaces, hot dishes were placed -- macaroni and cheese, stuffed mushrooms, Cincinnati chili dip, vegetable casserole, spinach dip, turkey chili, butternut squash soup, shrimp stew, and sweet potato crisp. Not one dish went untouched or unmaimed. We all did some serious damage to all that was available.

This year's party petered out a little after 10 PM, as several folks had just recently returned to town and were settling back in. Some folks even arrived back into town that night, and drove straight to the Fest!! They won the macaroni and cheese casserole for their efforts. Everyone went home with favors: little brown gift bags filled with Reese's pieces, candy corn, and Smarties. Compared to last year, things were a little more mellow this year, but better organized. One, I did not have the flu, and I was running on all cylinders (I was even able to taste the full flavor of the food!). Two, I had more tables outside, which improved the traffic flow. And three, there were fewer people able to come. Clean up, however, was a snap, and my friend Katie and I were amazed. Other than the remaining fall leaf decorations, and altered furniture arrangements in my apartment, it seemed as if a party never happened -- no food on the floor, no dishes piled in the sink, and hardly a leftover!

Half the fun of having the Food Fest is that each year is different, with different dishes, but every year has treated me to great laughs, great food, and wonderful friends. Next year, I will work on the ambient lighting. It was a little difficult to see what the dishes were on the outside table, making that first bite a bit of an adventure. Food allergies have no place at this party! I love what my little Fall Food Fest has turned into -- a night of conversation and culinary delights with friends new and old. Thank you everyone that brings a dish to share, and enthusiastically partakes in all the dishes available. I could not ask to sit by a fire, on a cool Florida evening, with any folks finer than all of you. Until next year, keep perfecting those wonderful recipes!

Sometimes, I have the best job in the world. Because the fall U.S. Coral Task Force Meeting is always in one of the jurisdictions (i.e., NOT D.C.), I was in Puerto Rico last week. To me, attending this meeting is always a double-edged sword -- I get to go on an all-expense-paid trip to an exotic locale, buuuut I have to listen to the same sh*t, different day. Basically, it's two days of people telling the Fed, State, and Territorial officials what we all already know. Corals are dying. Yep, you heard it here. AND EVERYWHERE. It boils down to humans misusing our available natural resources. We overfish the fish, which turns the ecosystem topsy turvy, upsetting the balance. We strip the land for strip malls, farms, and condos, which sends more sediments and contaminants into the watershed and into the ocean. We crash our boats into the reefs and pulverize the habitat. The problem is US. And lack of funding. And cooperation. And not putting words and lip service INTO ACTION.

So this time, I was in San Juan. I never see anything other than San Juan. My third time to the island, and I only saw the Caribe Hilton. I would have seen more if I didn't pop over to St. Croix between workshops and the business meeting.


A side note here, and a VERY prejudiced one at that. Puerto Rico is, well, Puerto Rico. And Puerto Ricans are very proud. I never ever expect anything to go as planned in Puerto Rico. Except the dirty martinis. Best dirties of my life in that place. But I digress. Just a few examples before I get to my most recent experience: in Puerto Rico, a conference room with electricity and a projection screen ACTUALLY means a pop-up canopy tent and 12 plastic chairs on a brick patio. With no electricity. 8 AM actually means 9:30 AM. Driving actually means whatever the hell you want it to mean. No directionals, no speed limit, no passing lane, no rules -- WWF, No Holds Barred. And flying to St. Croix at 3:30 PM actually means flying to St. Croix at 5 PM on a completely different airline than the one you booked.

On Saturday afternoon, after the morning workshop and a lovely lunch of plantain-battered fried chicken, beans, and rice with a hefty rum drink, I went back to the San Juan airport to fly to St. Croix, where my friends Cindy and Ross live. Cape Air already called to let me know I was bumped to the 4:30 PM flight, so when I arrived at the airport at 3 PM, I felt I was good to go for whatever trouble might arise (as to be expected in Puerto Rico). The nice woman at the Cape Air counter told me, once I wheeled up there, that the Cape Air flight had been cancelled, however, I was booked on the American Eagle flight at 5 PM. All I had to do was check in at the American Eagle counter...on the other end of the terminal.

OK. Wheel, wheel, wheel...all the way over to AE. I can't be issued my AE ticket, says the effeminate check-in staff member. What? Cape Air told me I was all set. Nay nay. No piece of paper from Cape Air, no ticket from AE. I am sent back to the Cape Air counter. Wheel, wheel, wheel...Cape Air says I should be all set. OH BLAH BLAH BLAH!! Use the phone, lady!! After one hour, much ado, and only one more trip back to the opposite end of the terminal, I am finally issued a ticket. I enter the world's longest security line, in San Juan airport, with only 30 minutes before my mini-craft starts boarding. Oh how I tried to not looked pissed or tap my toes...1 out of 2 is good, right?

I make it over to St. Croix without more trouble. And my bag even makes it, which was questionable after the Cape Air ground crew hacked the system to get my bag on to the AE flight for free. Oh the trust I put in that groundscrewman...[If it's not a word, it is to me now.] Ross picked me up, then we picked up Cindy, and then we headed to their apartment that overlooks the bay at Salt River. Freaking gorgeous!! This was Halloween night, and the moon was mostly full, reflecting off the sea, and illuminating all below, leaving shadows. The big party, however, was the next night, with better music at Norma's, in the rainforest. So this night, the three of us chilled out on rum and cokes, leftovers, and catching up.

On Sunday, we lazed about in the morning, then finally motivated to head down to the dive shop where Ross works as a dive master. We picked up some dive gear and tanks, and made our way to Cane Bay for a shore dive. As we made our way along the coast, we could tell there was a decent swell working, but we weren't sure how it would affect a dive. Fortunately (unfortunately?), we ran into a fellow diver, who told us it wasn't worth our time -- no visibility, a complete sandstorm. Boo, hiss. And back to the dive shop we went to drop off the gear and tanks.

Plan B: hike to the tide pools at Annaly Bay via the Trumbull Trail , which starts at Carambola Resort, just west of Cane Bay. The hike is amazing -- through the treeline and tall grasses, down to a rocky beach. Because of the swell, the waves were crashing into the bay and it was beautiful.




After the trail, we hit the grocery store for dinner supplies. We made burgers before getting ready to whoop it up at Norma's. Norma's feels like it is deep in the jungle. Mostly because no roads on St. Croix go in a straight line, and it was dark out. Except for the full moon. Spooky!! I was dressed as a cat with a cat mask, fishnets, and black tank top. I went for simple because a) it had to fit in my luggage, and b) it was pretty warm at the cluuub. Cindy and Ross were dressed as a mermaid, complete with tail, and an evil Neptune/Poseidon. I feel I did one helluva job on Ross's make up. Stellar, even.



There was dancing and half-naked (and one fully-naked) people. Ridiculous costumes, interesting costumes, half-assed get-ups, and many standers-by. In the end, Cindy and Ross ended up winning best costume for a couple! Fifty bucks, baby! After sweating off our costumes and downing enough beers to be tired, we headed home for the night with memories of good music, good people, and interesting characters...

Monday was pretty laid back. I was happy to just be with friends, and we didn't really get very far with our day. We hit the beach at Cane Bay for a little bit before I got packed up and ready to go. We had dinner at the Brew Pub in Christiansted before Cindy dropped me at the airport. I got there early, just in case there were any ticketing issues similar to the one I experienced on my way down from San Juan. Fortunately, there were none. Because apparently, I was the only passenger. I sat alone in the terminal. As the departure time loomed, I asked the TSA dude whether the flight was still happening. Just then, the ground crew popped in the terminal and said "Private charter?" Bewildering enough, I was indeed the ONLY passenger on the 10-person puddle jumper prop plane back to San Juan. Holy cajoli!! And what a beautiful night to fly. Full moonlight -- I could see the ripples on the sea, the cruise ships moving between ports with their deck lights all aglow, and the receeding lights of the homes on each of the small islands. It was an enjoyable 40 minutes in the air, and I had no worries about my bag. Once I got through the first customs desk, my bag was the only one waiting for me at the deserted baggage claim in the international arrivals terminal. Yes, my international flight from U.S. territory to U.S. territory. Whatever. It's Puerto Rico!!

Annnnd back to the Caribe Hilton for the rest of the task force meeting. If you want more info on what went down there, you can check it all out here.

I left for the Caribbean on a hectic Friday afternoon, and after the final morning session of the meeting the following Thursday, I was ready to return home. I have more than enough work at the office to keep me realing, and I have a Fall Food Fest to prepare for. Stay tuned for that entry...In the meantime, know this: Puerto Rico never runs on time or as planned. St. Croix is the better of the U.S. Virgin Islands (St. John is allegedly the best). A handle of Cruzan rum is worth every cent (and then some) of its $9 cost. The Caribe Hilton makes a mean dirty martini (with blue cheese-stuffed olives!!), but they WILL charge an arm and a leg (and you can't blame it on the exchange rate). They only charge an arm, however, during happy hour at Morton's. Fifty-five people registered for a workshop will be reported as the number that actually attended, even if only 20 people did attend said workshop in this little place we call reality. There's got to be more to Puerto Rico than dirty San Juan.

So I’m totally procrastinating on a GREAT many things by updating my blog, but goodness, it is just so much more exciting recapping these last few weeks! And I feel like life is whooooshing by, without even the slightest chance of recognizing just how great it is RIGHT NOW. The wheel in the sky keeps on turning, and it will be my turn to experience some of life’s rain clouds eventually, so I want to soak up the sun while it is shining.

Last weekend, a dear friend of mine came into town for a visit. There is nothing I love more than visitors. [I am not even being sarcastic!!!] It is a chance to show off my great town and to act like a tourist myself.

Karin flew in on Saturday, and after getting her settled in, we took off for lunch at Diner 437. Everything on the menu looks phenomenal. The first time I went there, another friend and I shared a couple of dishes – the Honey Roasted Vegetables Sandwich and the LBT (Lobster, Bacon, and Tomato) Sandwich. Fantastic taste sensation!! And the fries I think have crack in them. I’m not a huge fry fan, but these things, I eat like they are going out of style. They rival the garlic parmesan fries over at The Parkshore Grill. Good thing I already ate today, otherwise I would be drooling right now! Anyway, on this trip I settled on Roasted Chicken Breast Sandwich, which was another delicious score. Karin had the Seared Tuna Club Sandwich, but ruined it by having the tuna cooked medium rare. Oh Karin. You have some things to learn about good fish. Numero uno is not overcooking it. But I digress. I always forget about this place – it opened relatively recently – and I really think I need to make my way through the rest of the menu!

Because I went to the U2 concert the night before, and just returned from a week out on the West Coast, the rest of the afternoon was pretty chill. It included a nap, some laundry, and a trip to Target. [It can’t all be exciting!!]

Good food should always be followed up with more good food. That evening we motored over the bridge to Tampa to Luigi’s where Jacob, Karin, and I had a fantastic dinner. I pass by Luigi’s frequently during my inter-zip code travels and it always looks like it might be good. Thankfully, Luigi’s recently got a good write up in the Tampa Tribune, which confirmed my hunch. When I got inside, I loved it – lots of booths, with cozy comfort lighting. Not too dim, and not too bright. Karin and I ordered a bottle of pinot noir and zeroed in on the menu, which has all the favorites – pizza, pasta, antipasto…Yum is the word! The pre-order bread and dipping sauce was so enticing, I was almost stuffed with bread before the meal began. Almost stuffed. Jacob and I housed The Italian Way pizza, while Karin scarfed down the cheese ravioli (which has SHRIMP in it). We even had leftovers, but only a few nibbles that we HAD to save.

We closed out our night at a well-worn South Tampa favorite, The Dubliner. And Shipyard's Pumpkin Ale is back in season -- oh happy pint!!! The next morning, Karin and I enjoyed a relaxed wake-up pace. A little sleeping in, a little Sex and the City on the TV, and a little cup of joe before gearing up for breakfast and a day at the beach. Once the two of us finally woke all the way up and were ready to face the public, we headed over to Dave's Restaurant. My favorite neighborhood cash-only greasy spoon. For five bucks, you got yourself a cup of coffee and a bagel sandwich. I didn't say you got served super fast, but who doesn't get happy once the bacon arrives??

Fueled up and feelin' beachy, Karin and I headed for Treasure Island on a what was one helluva a glorious day -- a perfect advertisement for why Florida rocks. The air was balmy, but not overbearing. The sun was shining without a cloud in the sky, and the water was perfectly refreshing -- not too hot, and not too frigid. As Goldilocks would say, it was "just right." And my God, did the wildlife put on a show for us! Pelicans, terns, and seagulls diving for bait fish swimming in the surf. A pod of playful dolphins jumping and skimming their way south, within what felt like arms' reach of the shoreline. Other "wildlife" included skimpy-shorted older men doing calisthenics down the beach. Always a sight to behold. It was, in short, a perfect beach day. We read trashy magazines, walked down the beach, cooled off in the surf, and lounged in the sun. It prepped us oh-so-well for a crazy night out on the town...

...or not. In reality, Karin and I cleaned up after the beach, and took our time getting down to a favorite restaurant (Backfin Blue) in an oft-forgotten part of town (Gulfport). That poor, beleaguered fish, Grouper, was the fresh catch of the day, and I could not resist ordering it encrusted in macadamia nuts! Karin had her grouper topped with crabmeat, asparagus, and HOLLANDAISE. I had a long internal debate about which grouper dish to order, and we decided to split the difference. We both came out winners, and followed our winning entrees up with a winning dessert -- Key Lime Pie. SO good -- one of the best I've had in recent memory.

After dinner, we kept our mellow evening going with a movie on the couch. The next day, I took Karin to her parents, where she would spend the rest of her time in Florida. Her visit was so fun because not only did I get to catch up with a dear friend, I got to jaunt around town to some of my favorite, less frequently visited places. Even though I live within minutes of the beach, I rarely get out there for the day. All the everyday comings and goings seem to prevent most weekends from shaping up into one as great as this. So thank you Karin, for providing an opportunity for me to slow down, smell the roses, and be a tourist in my own backyard. I feel like I caught my breath for a moment, and I hope you did, too.

Let me tell you about one of the best concert experiences of my life. U2 is my favorite band. I developed an unhealthy obsession with them in 1996. I know, I’m a late bloomer. The band had been around for over 15 years by then. If I had been more involved in the music scene at age 8, I would have loved them at Joshua Tree, just like the rest of America. Regardless, U2 was probably my first love. Well, BONO was my first love, and Lordy, he still has it.

I first tried to see U2 live my freshman year of college. I bought tickets to the Toronto show of the PopMart Tour. My high school friend agreed to go with me, then bailed on me! She was not up for the adventure of getting across the state of New York and the Canadian border to get to the show. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anyone else up for the adventure, and I still have the unused tickets. Dude, if I couldn’t go – no one else was going either! So I didn’t sell them. I held out hope until the bitter end that I would still be able to go. Fast forward to the Elevation Tour. I persuaded my brother and his then-fiancée to go to the Philadelphia show. In short, it was AMAZING. Bono had the crowd in the palm of his hand. I still remember the hush as U2 closed out the show with “With or Without You.”

Now, I had another chance to see U2, right here in my own metro area at Raymond James Stadium. The media hyped up the anticipation with an expected crowd of 70,000 and massive traffic delays. I took a half day from work, and my friend Kelly and I hopped in the car about 4 hours before the opening act, Muse, took the stage. We loaded up on beverages and Subway, and braced ourselves for “the suck” of traffic. The suck never arrived! We cruised all the way to the stadium, and coasted right into a parking spot. Kelly and I tailgated and listened to one of the most awful, yet awesome, covers of U2 songs ever – The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Plays U2. The clarinet performs the melody to “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”. Kelly and I laughed our asses off. We couldn’t get through an entire song – we would listen to each until we knew which song from the U2 catalogue it was, then moooove right along to the next.

I should mention here that the outdoor temperature in Tampa on this night was about a gabillion degrees. As in SWELTERING. The coozies were barely keeping our beers cold. Sweat was dripping down my back. Sultry comes to mind.

After what we felt was a sufficient amount of time with our cheap beer, Kelly and I mentally prepared for “the suck” of getting into the stadium where we had field tickets. That’s right, we had standing room on the football field – not seats. We figured we would be in the back, a million miles (or at least 70 yards) from Bono and the Boys. Well, I don’t know what was working for us, but we got within 10 yards of the stage.

At a little after 7, Muse opened for U2. I was most pleasantly surprised by this band that appeared on the soundtrack for “Twilight”. [If you don’t know what that movie is, or what it’s based on, you have been living in a pop culture void and you are dead to me.] Muse freaking rocked! I actually did not want their set to end!

The main act, as usual, took their sweet time about it. By this time, the floor space had filled in to sardine-like capacity and I was soaked through with sweat. The rest of the stadium was full up, too, breaking all attendance records for the stadium. See what can be accomplished when you take football out the equation?!?!

U2 yet again rocked my world. Bono yet again had a crowd of tens of thousands in the palm of his hand. And the set list was one to drool over, with some songs that I know the band rarely performed in concert before, like “The Unforgettable Fire” and “MLK”. Check it out below.

Breathe
Get on Your Boots
Mysterious Ways
Beautiful Day
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Stuck In A Moment
No Line on the Horizon
Magnificent
Elevation
Until The End of the World
Unforgettable Fire
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
I'll Go Crazy - Remix
Sunday Bloody Sunday
MLK
Walk On
One
Where The Streets Have No Name

Encore
Ultraviolet
With or Without You
Moment of Surrender

The only thing that could have made this better was if Bono had picked me out of the crowd and pulled me up on stage during “City of Blinding Lights” instead of some cute little boy. Whatevs. Next time!!!

Despite a somber beginning, my trip to the Oregon Coast with Jacob and his parents was wonderful. And, as if the Pacific Northwest sensed my cynicism regarding the weather, the clouds parted and the sun shone the entire trip. I don’t know how a soul could not be rejuvenated by, among other great things, snow-capped mountain vistas, craggy coastlines, crashing waves, and…cheese.

Day 1

On Sunday, we began near Seattle, and made our way south on I-5 toward the Oregon Coast. Around lunchtime, we pulled off I-5 onto State Highway 504 to stop at the Mount St. Helens Visitor Center at Silver Lake . We watched a brief movie cataloguing the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens from its tremulous beginning to its still lingering aftermath. Jacob’s Mom provided first-hand accounts of the soot and ash that rained down over central Washington following the eruption, of the damage wreaked on Spirit Lake where she used to vacation in summer with her family, and of the mounds of ash dredged from rivers choked with debris, which slid down the broken-apart mountainside. Nature certainly has its way of putting us humans in our place.

The visitor center was a nice break from the road, and the weather was so clear that I could see the snow-topped, gouged-out peak of Mount St. Helens. I stupidly left the camera in the car, so no visuals. We hit up Subway for before making our way back to I-5, then south along the shore of the Columbia River, toward Oregon. We passed through Portland, then joined up with Route 18, which led us west across the Willamette Valley – Oregon’s Wine Country (there are more than 200 wineries here). I think the next time I drive through, I should be on a party bus with a tasting itinerary and a vocab consisting of the terms “oaky”, “earthy”, “fruity”, “dry”, and “bouquet”. I’m sure cheese needs to be in there somewhere, too, but more on that later…

In the late afternoon, we finally roll up to the beach house in Lincoln City, Oregon. Jacob’s Dad made me wait outside until he could perfect the ambiance necessary for my entrance – namely roll up the shades so I could see the beautiful view of the crashing waves through the full-length windows facing the sea. Here, you can see it too.

The rest of the evening was spent settling in and recovering from a long day in the car. Good thing it is baseball and football season. Why watch the sea when there is ESPN?

Day 2

I love, love, LOVE waking up on vacation. It may be early, it may be late. Regardless, an alarm clock is not involved – just circadian rhythms at work. Jacob and I began our day with a beach workout – running barefoot and doing some push-ups, sit-ups, and planks. My boot camp instructor would be so proud! Too bad this was not really the level of morning activity I kept up for the rest of my stay in Pacific Standard Time. Well, too bad for my instructor. Blissfully wonderful for me. Let me tell you, though, that Pacific sand is freaking COLD! My feet were uncomfortably numb for the first half of the workout, then for the continuous run back they settled into comfortably numb. The hot shower back at the ranch felt like a dream!!

In the afternoon, we hopped in the car and drove a few miles north to Cascade Head Trail, which is a nice wooded trail leading up to the switchbacks that take you to the top of the headland. The view is absolutely spectacular!! Check it out:

Again with the fantastic weather, Pacific Northwest! I think your PR person might need to be fired, because all I ever hear about is cold, wet, and windy. Maybe you like it that way…keep all your good stuff hidden.

After the hike, we headed back to the ranch and my dogs were barkin’. It was only 6:30 PM, and I was cooked for the night. Dinner was Spring Fiesta, which involves a lot of fresh avocado and a whole bunch of other vegetable goodness. Monday night football with Brett Favre was dessert (or golden Oreos, whichever floats your boat). With the morning workout, the reading of books, the watching of waves, and the steep hike up and down the trail, I turned in relatively early, happy with the thought that I had no particular schedule for the next day, either.

Day 3 – Day of Cheese…and Beer

After a lazy start (for me, at least – some folks still go to work out on vacation), and after ogling some WHALES from the window, Jacob’s Mom and I toodled down the coast to Depoe Bay and Cape Foulweather for some light souvenir shopping and sightseeing. Upon our return, we started our great journey to the infamous Tillamook Cheese Factory. Tillamook is about 45 minutes north of Lincoln City, and apparently home to a great many high quality, well-fed jersey cows, which provide the best raw ingredient available for delicious-tasting CHEESE.

We started with the self-guided tour. Actually we started with a photo-op:

Because we were a twee bit hungry, and we knew cheese was on the menu, we kind of breezed through the tour. We saw the gloved and hair-netted, white-coated employees checking each baby loaf of cheese as they plopped the huge bricks of cheese on the conveyor belt, before each loaf got shrink wrapped and labeled. We also saw the display on Tilly (or is it “Tillie") the jersey cow – a mascot of sorts.

It reminded me of my Mom’s crazy ass story about “DeeDee Discount,” the three-legged dairy cow that Danny Wegman used to make Wegmans dairy products. Seriously, you’ll have to get her to tell you that story sometime. The genesis of that tale was Dad’s predilection for buying the store brand versus name brand. And if a cheese factory can be a tourist destination, then I think Wegmans should be one as well. I shopped and worked at that grocery store and nothing – NOTHING – comes close to the wonder of that place. If you have one near you, I envy you. I just don’t really envy the weather that surrounds any given Wegmans store. But, I wouldn’t mind going to the Scranton, PA store where I might have a chance of running into Michael Scott and company, filling up on Woo Pop.

Anyway, where were we? Right. Tillamook. Freakin’ A – they give you FREE samples! UNSUPERVISED! I can have as many free cheese curds and cubes of Horseradish Chedder, Hot Habanero Chedder, or Sharp Chedder as I freaking want!! Follow that up by making a bee line straight through the gift shop to the Farmhouse Café, where you can order up a tasty cup of coffee, a kick-ass grilled cheese sandwich, and a steaming cup of chowder. THEN, follow that up with some of the BEST tasting ice cream on this PLANET. I went for the Tillamook Mudslide, and next time I think in lieu of lunch, I will go for the flavor sampler – you get all 36 flavors for about $25.

Full up on dairy goodness, we waddled back to the car with our beefstick souvenirs (think of a 3 foot long Slim Jim) and drove south to Cape Meares Lighthouse and Wildlife Refuge. We parked at the trailhead and walked down the drive to the viewing areas and the lighthouse. Again, the weather allowed for breathtaking views of the coastal scenery…

Our visit was a little shorter than planned, as lunch took us later into the day than anticipated, and we still had a tall sand dune to climb. We hoofed our way back to the trailhead, then continued south in the car for Pacific City.

Jacob told me before of the standing competition between him and his father, which is a race to the top of the Cape Kiwanda sand dune near Pacific City. On this trip, the two of them invited me to the race. Based on Jacob’s description, I have an image of what this dune might look like in my head. I’ve been to the Outer Banks in North Carolina, so I’ve seen some serious sand dunes before, and I imagined it would be something akin to that. My imagination, however, failed me for when I saw the actual sand dune we were to race up.

The picture barely even does this thing justice. Look at how small that truck in the distance is, compared to the dune! It only gets more daunting the closer you get. Once the starting count was finished, I took off into the lead. ROOKIE MISTAKE. Twenty seconds in, and maybe a third of the way up the dune, I was sucking wind like an out-of-shape cop chasing down a fleet young purse-snatcher on foot. Jacob moved into the lead – bent in two and basically crawling up the dune on all fours like a bear. Jacob’s Dad steadily made headway, leaving me gasping, step by backsliding step, the rest of the way to the top. It was a tight finish at the end, with Jacob’s Dad nipping at Jacob’s heals with a late surge, but Jacob was able to stretch himself to a win. All that lung crushing work gets you a STUNNING reward.

Plus, there is beer at the bottom of that hill – microbrews for everyone at the Pelican Brewery. Jacob’s mom scored us a nice table window with a view of Haystack Rock (or “Gorilla Rock”).

Haystack Rock is one of four such rocks that dot the Pacific Coast. Once I was seated, I scored myself a nice Tsunami Stout. I used some big gulps to wash down some bits of the sand dune that I took with me.

When we finally returned to the house, we wound down the night with an epic game of Hearts. I finished in second place, and no one got to Shoot the Moon. That’s what happens when the competition is fierce.

Day 4

The final day of vacation always seems so glum. Like you’re trying to enjoy the last moments of freedom, but ultimately, you know you’re counting down to leaving. Yuck. The morning was foggy and gray, too, so that didn’t help too much. The first time during my whole visit that the Pacific NW weather was what its PR agent touted it as – cloudy and wet. It was at least a comfortable temperature.

Jacob and I took the day to do the town. We started with coffee and pastries as 101 Inspirations. The coffee shop is attached to an antiques store, which is actually a hodge-podge of items you would find at a garage sale. Lots of posters of Marilyn Monroe, some large figurines of Betty Boop, including one where she is dressed as a Devil Vixen with a tail coming out of her back, and lots of piles of old dusty magazines. Freaky store, yummy coffee. After that warm up, we headed to the outlet mall, just down the road. We both found some things to buy, which left us hungry and thirsty.

It all comes down to food, doesn’t it? It is our fuel, and it is an experience. Just ask Anthony Bourdain (I love him, don’t you?). Anyway, Oregon and the Pacific NW, in general, is chock full of microbreweries. Throw a rock and…So we hit up McMenamin’s Lighthouse Brewpub. We split the gyro sandwich and a pizza. I had the Black Rabbit Porter because cooler temperatures make me love thick, dark beer. By the time lunch was over, though, the sun was out and shining, so on the way back to the house, we stopped down at the beach. The water on the west coast is effing freezing, though, and any efforts to frolic in the foam fell flat. [Uh, by the way, how do you like THAT alliteration going on in that sentence!??! Ridiculous…and I didn’t even TRY!! Back to regular programming…]

We got back to the house to chill out before heading over to a dinner hosted by friends of Jacob’s parents. Our hosts treated us to a delicious dinner of baked salmon (YUM!), wild rice, steamed veggies, wine, and engrossing conversation at their well-appointed home. Player piano, anyone? Too bad our evening had to be an early one, as we all still had to pack and get to bed. We had a wake-up call of 2 AM coming our way. Oh yay.

Day 5

You know, with only 3 hours of sleep, I should keep going under day 4. Three hours of sleep is more like a brief, mid-afternoon nap on a Sunday, if you ask me. Not a night of sleep. We had to be up this early because our flight was at 6 AM out of the Portland airport, which is about 2 and half hours away from Lincoln City. So I dragged my ass out of bed, hefted my luggage out the door, and promptly tried to fall asleep again as we made our way back through wine county to the airport.

The flights home were pretty innocuous. I was, however, sandwiched in a middle seat of the 5 hour connecting flight from Denver to Tampa. I sat between Tall Drink of Water, Jacob, on one side and Large Expanding Man Who Couldn’t Get the Armrest All the Way Down on the other. I think my neck has a permanent crick in it from trying to sleep without touching Large Expanding Man. Home by 6 PM, I tried to get to bed early-ish so I could rest of for my next adventure. Stay tuned, because that report is coming up shortly.

In about a month and a half, I will be running across the state with the help of 11 teammates. Team Twisted Blister, as we call ourselves, will relay across the state for not only the pure challenge of completing 191 miles as a team, but also for a really fantastic cause -- EDUCATION. My teammate, and good friend, began donating to The Kenya Education Fund (KEF) several years ago after traveling to Kenya. Since that trip, she has made giving to KEF a regular part of her annual holiday party by collecting donations from guests. This usually involves incredibly fun gimmicks -- like Jell-O shots or souvenir cups for sale. As a grateful guest to her annual soiree, I have given to this great cause with pleasure (and I won't blame it on the Jell-O shots).


Now, Team Twisted Blister offers up the incredibly fun gimmick of surviving a team running relay across the relatively flat, yet lightning-prone and steamy state of Florida. You get the benefit of experiencing a running relay (by reading this blog) without any of the drawbacks (e.g., body odor, sweat, and tears), and with the knowledge that you are supporting a GREAT cause. Every dollar donated goes directly to a student in need, and provides supplies to help a student complete his or her education. I am always more compelled to give to a charity when I know where my gift is going, and when I know the recipient will appreciate the services provided. No where have I seen students more determined and enthusiastic than in areas of the world where the funds, facilities, support services, and supplies for a quality education are so clearly lacking. I see this when I read books like Three Cups of Tea, and when I read about the students helped by KEF.

To read more about Team Twisted Blister, the relay, and KEF, please check out our donation site. Any amount will go a long way toward boosting team morale (especially considering the whole B.O. factor), and toward helping a motivated student receive an education!

Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. -- Nelson Mandela

Well, last week it was my turn. After spending much of the year ringing in the next decade for many good friends, I turned 30. I reached 30? I made it to 30? I think it's a pretty big deal, even though I already can purchase cigarettes, alcohol, and porn as well as drive and rent a car. And now, I can finally achieve my dream of running for Senate. With the passing of Ted Kennedy, someone needs to fill the gap!

























In all seriousness, though, 30 is significant. As a person dear to my heart said, "You only get to celebrate, what? Nine decades?" That certainly put things in perspective when I told him that 30 really didn't feel much different. We only have a finite amount of time in our earthly bodies, and we must take a moment to take stock and appreciate the experience. Nothing serves as better milestone than a birthday.

Another dear friend of mine gave me the book, What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self. Reading through the collection, I began to think what I would tell my younger self. There are so many younger selves, however, to choose from! The imaginative pre-teen. The conflicted and insecure teenager. The searching and struggling young 20-something. As someone who does not believe in regrets (because all my experiences shaped who I am today), it is difficult task to think what my younger self needed to hear, but I will give it a shot. Hopefully, my current self will take some of the advice, too.

Dear Sarah,

At the end of a grueling 2 years of Junior High, during which you faced academic, athletic, and social challenges beyond anything you dealt with before, you are now facing the prospect of High School. I can already see the snarl forming on your face and the dark cloud over your head. I caution you, however, to view the next 4 years not as a test of survival, but as a brand spanking new opportunity, fresh and clean (with no mistakes). This is the time when you must marshal all of your talents and change your attitude. Sure, some of your classmates are not, nor will they ever be, your friends, but don't lump them all together. The world is not a game of you versus them. Don't limit your experience to what feels safe and comfortable, because I fear you will miss out on all the FUN. Don't wait until college to be brave. Say "yes" to yourself now. Life will grant you many blessings over the years, but only when you say yes to believing in yourself. Don't find the excuses before you even try. Play soccer. Join the swim team. Talk to the cute boy. Travel during summers. What else are you going to use all your paychecks from Wegmans for? Or if you are so stuck on saving up cash, go North and work on the River for the summer. Never again will you have so much available time and resources to experience the world, expand your horizons, and maybe meet some new and fabulous people that don't even go to your high school (eek!!). Allow your black and white world a little more gray, and that means giving yourself a little more slack. You have a strong will, Sarah, and a loving heart. Both of these gifts will get you further than you ever thought possible, but only when you say yes. And when you say yes, beware, the time zips by faster than ever. But that's what happens when you are having FUN.

With love,
Your happy, fun-lovin' 30-year-old self