48 Hours Around the Bay

Too often it seems there are barely enough hours to do all you want to do particularly when you're hell bent on doing it all. And despite the fact that it was an action-filled weekend spent almost exclusively trying to get warm, stay warm and find warmth, it was the kind of weekend when doing it all was all worth it.

Saturday bright and early I met up with my team to maneuver 9 of our boats down to the race start along Chrissy Field. As the fog gave way to peeks of blue sky, the Alcatraz outrigger races got underway with 2 of our crews in the women's Open division. My boat had a rough start getting out late and slightly behind most of the field. Our steerswoman, Steph, chose a line heading to the outside of Alcatraz looking for the push of a current to give us an edge. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be had and we could only watch in growing frustration as the other teams who'd maneuvered directly towards Alcatraz then paddled alongside it kept pulling away on a current we were nowhere near.

But we kept our wits together and focused on the turn at the Bay Bridge when we'd all be battling back into the wind, our eye on the other SFOCC women's boat ahead. Pushing hard into the turn, we came out some 3 boat lengths ahead of 2 teams we'd been paddling alongside. It was the sort of momentum we could build on and so we powered out 2's and 4's the rest of the way as we picked off one boat after another, pulling ahead of the other SFOCC boat and into 3rd place behind the Tahoe and Tam teams. Another mile and we might have made a clean sweep to the top, but we were happy to have fought our way back into position and to have kept it together when we seemed so far out of it.

(Photo courtesy of Rick Gaston; Me in this season's most fashionable outrigger attire)

After the usual breakdown and boat clean up I was off to Sausalito to meet up with Jessica et al for a paddleboard session in honor of Jeff's birthday. Unfortunately, the winds were too big and Sea Trek wouldn't let us go out so after considerable discussion about where to find sun and warmth for any other activity we struck on McInnis Park in San Rafael. Sun, batting cages, beer, driving range, putting green. The kind of place triathletes don't usually go. The coordination sports. The ball sports.

But being the adventuresome types, we rolled into the park and gave it a go. The quick and dirty of the day? Troy, Ironman and Xterra racer, is a slugger. Who knew? You see someone bike, run, swim, you don't think - I wonder if that guy can hit? You kind of assume he can't - hence the commitment to triathlons and not the city softball league. He killed it. Besides that it was mostly about amusement and good-natured ribbing as we each took our turns in the cages and then again on the driving range. How awesome does it feel when that little golf club head connects with that little teeny ball and it just ricochets straight out as you stand watching, admiring, to the oohs and ahhs of your friends, body twisted, the club across your shoulder at the end of your swing, just holding the pose? I mean compared to the 3 swings before when you completely whiffed? Huge difference. HUGE.

We rallied back in Mill Valley for bday dinner and post-sporty beverages as I started to wind down in prep for the 25 miles I was pacing for Marla later that night in the Headlands 100. I'd been getting texts all day that she was looking good and on pace. She was running in 2nd place for women, 16th overall. I dozed off as the dinner conversation continued and then bounced out around 10pm when everyone was leaving to get down to Rodeo Beach in plenty of time to meet her.

As with most of the summer, it was wet, foggy and windy. It was mid-50's and the fog was so heavy it felt like rain. I sat in my car with Amy who was volunteering rethinking my clothing choices again and again. It was miserable weather and we'd be running over the ridges and right along the water's edge shortly past midnight. Nothing like the near-balmy temps of 2009 when I paced Rick. But in the end, Marla would be forced to cut it short, a groin pull her undoing, and with that, my pacing duties curtailed. I felt bad for her, and while happy not to continue in the cold wet of the night, a little sad that I wouldn't be able to help her accomplish her goal and rise to the challenge for it.

I snuck back into Jessica/Jeff's house and crawled into a sleeping bag to crash for a handful of hours before morning. Jessica was up to go to paddling practice but I needed more time and went with the later morning option of a Double Dipsea run in honor of Brian's birthday. A group of us - Double Dip virgins and pros - met in Mill Valley and headed out into the fog and wind for the 14 mile adventure. Having raced the DD the past several years I'd actually never done the whole true Dipsea course, given that shortcuts are allowed, and encouraged, in the race. So in a manner of speaking, it was my first actual full DD course run. I gotta say, those shortcuts make a difference!

(photo courtesy of Rick Gaston)

But it was fun to do with some of my favorite people, to run again with uber-trail hitter Rick (and even give consideration to the Quad Dip at Thanksgiving) and to see 3 of our guys tackle their first. Some 3+ hours later we were cold and shivering back at our cars, quick-changing under towels to head back to Dana/Brian's to join the rest of the party for protein smoothies and a lavish post-workout, birthday feast spread. As the sun poked through intermittently we dashed outside to the deck to soak it in and enjoy, catch up and make plans.

See the pattern? Play, eat, laugh, repeat. As much and as often as possible. Something I caught on Krissy Moehl's blog - If I don't stand still, I can't grow old. Hmmm. I left my weekend in Mill Valley exhausted, dirty, full and happy. There's a saying out there somewhere about rolling up on death's doorstep fully spent and exhausted rather than well-preserved. Meet it head on and embrace all that you can in life - whenever you can and while you can. Hoo ya.