Living Small

Long Time, No Blog

Sometimes I go for a stretch of time without blogging because I feel like I have nothing to say.  It seems as though I haven't done anything, haven't had any inspired thoughts, and just can't get my fingers moving across the keyboard.  This time, I haven't blogged for two weeks because I have just been doing way too much -- first traveling, then trying to get caught up on real life -- and every time I have thought about blogging, I just didn't know where to start.  So I guess I'm starting by not really starting!

The traveling was awesome.  Two weeks ago Monday, immediately after work, David and I flew to Las Vegas.  It wasn't someplace we were particularly anxious to go, but we were en route to Los Angeles and wanted to take a side trip, and it was too late in the game to find accommodations at the Grand Canyon.  Also, it was cheaper to fly in and out of Las Vegas and rent a car there than it was to fly in and out of LA and rent a car there.  After spending two nights and gambling away $44 in Las Vegas, we made the drive to LA, where we spent the next week busily shuttling around between Eagle Rock/Pasadena, Santa Monica/West LA, and Pomona/Claremont visiting friendds and family.  We had so much fun and did so much, but I was torn about blogging from there because my mother-in-law and grandparents have warned me about the dangers of advertising the fact that we are away from home.  So we just had fun without writing about it!

I need to run now (there was just time for a quick blog break), but I promise to give more details of the trip (and post-trip adventures, including having the gas company out to check for a leak and getting our car towed to the mechanic on a Sunday afternoon) when I have more time!

Weekend Rundown

I honestly thought this would be a pretty boring weekend.  David was up north at his brother's cabin for a pig roast and my only plans were to meet my CSA share partner at the Farmers' Market on Saturday morning and to bring up my summer clothes from the basement (just in time -- the thermometer hit ninety on Friday and hasn't budged much since).  But it turned out to be a pretty good and even kind of exciting weekend.  Since I'm pressed for time today, I'll stick to the highlights:

1. Stopping traffic: Before David left on Friday, we went running together. As we returned to the house, we noticed two women standing in the driveway, with their car parked kind of haphazardly in front of the driveway. When we greeted them, they asked if it was our house and, when we answered in the affirmative, they said that they had been driving by and just had to stop to check out the garden. It turns out that it was the giant peony bush, which was exactly at its peak on that day, that had caught their attention. David (who does all the gardening -- it is really HIS garden, though I get to benefit from it), was flattered that his flowers had actually stopped traffic!
2. A longer long run: I have gradually been trying to extend one of my runs each week in order to build endurance, and on Saturday morning I did ten miles for the first time. I started out early (before it got hot), tucked $20 and a spare battery (for my radio -- somehow I always seem to lose NPR right in the middle of a long run) into the little pocket of my running shorts, put some dates (sprinkled with salt to prevent hyponatremia) into a ziplock, and hit the road. Actually, most of my Saturday run was off-road, on paved paths and trails. At about the halfway point, I reached the entrance to the Arb, stopped to drink from the water fountain and eat my dates, and pressed on. The peony garden was at its peak (I knew this becaust there was a sign advertising the "Peony Peaking Party" later that day), and was amazingly fragrant as I ran through it. My goal for the run was to keep my heart rate below 150 (80% of my supposed max), and doing that allowed me to keep going and feel good the whole way. I finally stopped a few blocks from Zingerman's, my favorite post-run destination!
3. Farmer's market: This week was the first week of our new CSA. David had gotten discontented with the old farm because it seemed like they would sell all their best produce and give us the rejects. The new farm is much smaller, and the farmer himself is the one who comes and delivers the produce. So far I'm impressed with both the selection and delivery, and was pleased to learn that our extra-large share comes with two dozen eggs every week (one for us and one for our partners -- we can eat a dozen eggs in a week, but not TWO dozen).
4. Going to the movies: As I ran by the Michigan Theater on Saturday morning, I saw the poster for Planet B-Boy, which a friend had recommended earlier in the week. I paused briefly to check show times, and went back to see it in the afternoon. I didn't know quite what to expect from a movie about the international breakdancing scene (I had thought it was a fad that died in the eighties), but I really liked it and was just amazed by the athleticism and artistry of the dancing.
5. Hospital visit: After I returned from the movies, I poured myself a glass of wine and listened to my voicemail -- somehow, in the two hours that my phone had been turned off, I had gotten three messages, one of which was from a friend asking for a ride home from the hospital following an emergency (I guess they all are) appendectomy! When I called back, it turned out that my friend wouldn't be released until the next day, and I was unable to offer a ride in any case, but I did walk up to visit. As I got to the outside of the hospital complex, it occurred to me that it might be difficult to get in at 8:30 on a Saturday night, so I entered through the emergency room, and from there it was quite easy to navigate to the main hospital.  I don't know whether or not there are official "visiting hours," but neither the guard at the security desk nor the nurse objected to my being there. Friend was in good spirits and has since been released.
6. Bringing out the summer clothes: I did manage to accomplish the weekend's single planned chore, which ended up being both more frustrating and rewarding than I had expected. Frustrating because I just have SO MUCH clothing. This may surprise readers who remember my "year (plus) of no shopping" from September 2006 to February 2008. Prior to that, I hadn't purchased new clothing in a year, and since then I have only had my emergency warm-weather clothing shopping trip in Key West, and a few purchases of running clothes. So why so much? Well, I managed to make a lot of clothes in the past year (four sweaters, two tank tops, a short-sleeved shirt, a skirt, and a pair of pants), and I did have that resale-shop spree in Baltimore last spring. I also can't quite bring myself to get rid of stuff, and still have hand-me-downs from high school friends. Hence, the rewarding part -- finding old favorites that I forgot I had!
7. Running in a thunder storm: I'll preface this one by reassuring my parents, in-laws, and grandparents that I'm not quite as stupid as this makes me sound -- I know it isn't good to go running in a thunder storm and we didn't exactly intend to do it. David and I had planned to run together when he returned from his trip, but as he got closer, we started hearing reports of severe thunder storms and tornados on the west side of the state. I wasn't worried -- Michigan is a big state and we are on the east side of it. But then the weather advisories started naming counties closer and closer to ours, and finally we were given a severe thunderstorm warning. By the time we were ready to run, dark clouds were quickly moving in from the west, so we decided to wait it out. Within minutes, it was pouring down rain. David read the newspaper and I knitted, and every few minutes, we looked out until the rain stopped. The severe thunderstorm warning had expired by then, so we seized our chance and put our feet to the pavement. It turns out that we had jumped the gun just a bit: there was still thunder and lightening, and shortly after we reached the halfway point on our course, it rained again briefly. Nonetheless, it was amazing to be out at that moment with the world so fresh and raw after (okay, during) the storm. And, really, what's a little rain when you are already soaked in sweat?

So much for a brief post, but at least it was an exciting weekend!

Knitting News

Today, instead of doing my usual update ("I have been knitting, really I have, I just don't have any photos to show"), I had some extra time before work and decided to actually take some photos, upload some that I already had to my computer, and finally get something on the blog to show my recent knitting.  Unfortunately, several recent projects, including a cabled scarf, a pair of convertible mittens, and about four pairs of socks, just never got photographed and probably never will.  But I do have pictures of one completed project and two works in progress.

Over the last two weeks, my dear friend (and frequent commenter) Elizabeth was in France fixing stone walls and paths using old (ancient? classical? -- as a former historian, I'll just say "old" to avoid using the wrong chronological term) masonry techniques.  Elizabeth learned how to knit last fall, and since then we have been spending a lot of time knitting together.  So much time, in fact, that I feared I would never actually be able to knit something FOR her without her seeing it!  I purchased this yarn to make a pair of socks for her way back in April, and her trip to France gave me the perfect opportunity to cast on. So this has been my main project for the last two weeks, and they are now finished and fit the recipient very well.  I tried to convince her that it is okay to wear socks with sandals as long as the socks are handknit (after all, how else will you show off your handknit footwear?), but I'm not sure she bought it :)

This may be a little hard to make out, but it is a close-up of the stitch pattern on Elizabeth's socks.  The pattern is Flame Wave from the book Favorite Socks: 25 Timeless Designs from Interweave and it is the first pair of socks I have made from the book, even though I have had it for nearly a year now.  Part of the reason I haven't made many socks from actual patterns (as opposed to just knitting a regular generic sock without a pattern) recently is that I have been feeling very uneasy about my sock gauge.  Beginning with my third pair, I have knit all my socks two-at-a-time on two Addi Turbo size 1 circular needles.  The problem I keep coming across, however, is that these needles seem to be slightly larger than the standard size 1.  Most patterns for women's socks use 64 stitches, but mine always come out slightly large.  I have had the best results using 64 stitches for a man's sock and 56 for a woman's.  But, when the pattern calls for 64, then I'm in trouble.  For Elizabeth's, the pattern was written for 56 stitches in sportweight yarn, so it worked out perfectly, but I think that for future patterns I may just need to buy some Addi Turbos in size 0.

This is the other project I have been working on for the last month or so, actually, ever since my birthday, as the yarn and pattern were a birthday gift from Elizabeth!  The yarn is Bristol Yarn Gallery Lyndon HIll and the pattern is the Lace Ribbon Scarf from the current Knitty.  This is a gorgeous spring scarf, though given today's predicted high of 90 degrees, I may not actually get to wear it THIS spring.  The lace pattern is easy to remember without being monotonous, and should look better after a good blocking.  The reason this scarf isn't quite done yet is that I have a lot of this yarn.  So much, in fact, that I think I'll be able to make a tank top in addition to the scarf.  So I cast on for the tank top, figuring that I would see how much yarn that takes, and then finish the scarf with the remaining yarn (thank you, Pamela, for that suggestion).

The tank top is the Silk Camisole from Last-Minute Knitted Gifts.  I think I have blogged before about how much I love this book.  Everything I have made from it has been an unqualified success, and I am hoping this top does not prove to be an exception.  I finished the lace edging last night (that is what you see here), so I now have several miles of stockinette, and I may just have to cast on for a new pair of socks to temper the monotony of that!  I can't wait to actually wear this scarf and tank top, though, because the yarn is a blend of cotton and silk and is just about the softest and lightest thing ever -- perfect for warm weather!

The real news today, though, is that I realized I'm an even worse photographer than I thought.  Somehow none of these pictures quite captures what the knitting looks like in real life, and many of them (particularly the ones I didn't post to the blog) came out rather blurry.  I have no ambitions to be a photographer (sorry, Grandpa) on top of my other hobbies, but I would like to be able to accurately document my knitting.  So if anyone has suggestions, please do comment!

The Politics of Politics

With the race for the Democratic Party's nomination dragging on and on, I tuned out at a key moment, not even realizing that the last two primaries were taking place yesterday.  David, however, was right on the ball, and tuned in to NPR just in time to hear that Obama had secured the delegates necessary to achieve nomination.  We listened proudly to his victory speech and with amazement to Clinton's non-concession speech.  Rather, I should say that I listened with amazement.  David was not at all surprised.  Throughout this whole process, he has been amazingly prescient.  Back when all the experts were saying that a black man wouldn't get the party's nomination, David knew it would happen.  And in January, when I considered voting for Clinton in the primary since she was the only candidate on the Michigan ballot, David warned that she would somehow try to use Michigan to her advantage.  And even last night, when Obama clearly became the presumptive nominee, David said he wouldn't believe it until, well, I won't repeat what he said.  At first I chalked up his dislike of Clinton to simple misogyny (sorry, David) and was totally baffled.  Even though I supported Obama from the beginning, I always thought Clinton would make a fantastic president as well.  But her campaign got uglier and uglier and I became more and more disillusioned.  On the one hand, I think that in many ways she was treated unfairly, and I believe that this whole process has illustrated that, while sexism and racism are still rampant in American society, the sexism is just a little closer to the surface, or perhaps a little more socially acceptable.  On the other hand, the Clinton campaign just became embarrassing.  The ultimate question, however, which probably won't be answered until November, is whether the ends justify the means.  And this is where David and I still differ: at the end of the day, all I want to see is a Democrat in office, no matter who or how ugly the process of getting there.

Racing Again

Two weeks after my first road race, I decided to try another, this time 10K (6.2 miles) in the Dexter-Ann Arbor Run.  This time I also had a friend to race with, a coworker who used to run track and cross-country.   I had always wanted to do the Dexter-Ann Arbor Run, even before I knew how to run, since I would always see the race ending downtown and it just looked like a lot of fun.  I suppose that I could have done it before as a walker, but I'm so glad that I was able to run it this year, and it was so much fun doing it with a friend.  Unfortunately, because of road construction that was scheduled but never actually started, the race couldn't end downtown, so we started and finished at the new (yet to open) Skyline High School.  That was pretty fun in and of itself, since we got to poke around in a brand-new school building that looks like it is pretty much ready to go but hasn't yet held a class, but it would have been a lot more fun to finish downtown.  In any case, I think the main point of the race is to be able to run along Huron River Drive, which is usually not possible (or at least not safe) because there is no sidewalk, and we still got to do that.  The weather was also absolutely perfect -- a bit chilly when we started, and not at all too hot along the way.  Most of the course was pretty flat, with the notable exception of mile five to six, which was pretty much straight uphill and felt like it would never end, but there were a lot of spectators cheering us on by that point.  One of the funnest things about this race was that two parts of it were out-and-back, so we could see the really fast racers and cheer for them as they passed us going in the other direction.  The guy in the lead had absolutely no competition, and we cheered for him, and for the first woman, and also the first person pushing a stroller.  It was really nice having a friend to race with.  We talked most of the way, which made it go pretty quickly, and we could make decisions together about when to pass other people, which just made me feel a lot more confident.  He is faster than I am, which was good for me, since it encouraged me to run faster than I probably would have on my own.  He probably could have run even faster on his own, but kindly stayed with me, even at the final push.  In any case, we finished under my long-shot goal time of one hour (full results here), which totally made my day.  After our race, we finished stretching and eating just in time to watch the first of the 5K racers finish, and one of my former history students finished fifth!  Later on, I was quite sore, but it was completely worth it.

Growing Food

Since David is an avid gardener and I love to eat vegetables, having a vegetable garden would seem like a pretty logical step for us.  In fact, it seemed so logical that we tried to do it a few years ago.  David prepared a spot in the back yard, I checked out tons of books from the library, read through them, selected the "square foot gardening" method, sectioned off the spot David had prepared into square feet, and diligently planted a vegetable in each square, with marigolds in some squares to ward off hungry critters.  The marigolds, however, didn't qute do their job, and most of our veggies had been eaten by a family of groundhogs before the seeds even sprouted.  The tomato plants did come up, but each time a tomato started to grow, one of the groundhogs got to it before it was ripe enough for us.  Once I watched a groundhog pick a tomato from the plant, carry it over to the kitchen window (to make absolutely certain that I could see him), ate half of it, and tossed the rest away.  No tomatoes for us.  We did manage to get enough fingerling potatoes for one meal, but that was the total produce of our vegetable garden. 

Since then, we haven't been eager to put anything edible in our back yard.  Houseplants, however, are a different story, and David purchased a Meyer lemon tree a couple of years ago to grow inside.  When the tree arrived (in the mail), it was just a baby, and David nursed it under a grow light for what seemed like an eternity.  Actually, I think in terms of plant life, it was an eternity.  My mom acquired the same tree at the same time, and it seemed like hers started bearing fruit pretty quickly, while we were seeing only leaves.  Mom even started bringing lemons with her when she visited, so we had a preview of what ours would taste like when (if) the tree finally did start producing lemons.  Then, last summer, we got a few flowers and, over the course of the past year, those flowers turned into lemons.  It was a very slow process.  When the weather turned nice a few weeks ago, David put the tree outside, though he is careful to bring it in when we get a frost warning (yes, we are still getting those, even though it is the end of May).  Yesterday, one of the three now-yellow lemons fell from the tree.  David brought it in and squeezed it over the walleye I had made for dinner, and it was just perfect.  We finally got to eat something that grew at our house!  There are still two lemons on the tree, and maybe it will grow three more in the next two years.

Long Weekend

Memorial Day weekend kind of snuck up on me this year.  In the back of my mind, I knew there was a three-day weekend coming up, yet by the end of last week, we didn't have any plans for Monday, and I was afraid that I would end up at work just by forgetting that it was a long weekend.  But then we were invited to a going-away party for a friend on Monday afternoon, and we were asked to help a friend move on Monday evening, and along with the plans we already had for Saturday (running with a friend in the morning and attempting to have a drink at Leopold Brothers on its last night in the evening) and Sunday (party for David's cousin's daughter's high school graduation -- in Ohio), it turned out to be a pretty busy weekend after all.  Not everything happened quite as planned -- we decided the $8 (each) cover charge at Leopold's on Saturday night just wasn't worth it and the pool table we were supposed to help move on Monday was never going to fit in the space alotted to it -- but we still had a lot of fun and got to see many friends and relatives we hadn't seen in a while.  I definitely enjoyed the long weekend and appreciated getting to sleep in (until seven, which is pretty late for me given my recent insomnia) yesterday, but there is something oddly disorienting about starting the work week on a Tuesday.  Over the weekend, there were certain things I knew I had to do on Tuesday, but I thought I would have Monday to prepare for them.  It only occurred to me last night that when I went to work in the morning it would already be Tuesday!

More on Biking and Commuting

Yesterday's weather forecast threatened rain, so I used it as an excuse to take a day off from bicycle commuting and instead walk to work (with a stop at Starbuck's, which just isn't possible on the bike).  By the time David and I got home, it still wasn't raining, so we brought the bikes up from the basement and rode to Gallup Park.  The ride there was pretty uneventful, but on the way home, we took Geddes Road, which begins with a steep uphill climb on a very narrow strip of badly-deteriorated asphalt (a kind of pseudo-sidewalk, just inches away from speeding traffic).  That was definitely exciting -- not exactly fun, but definitely exciting!

When we returned home, we watched the classic cycling movie Breaking Away, which David had recently Netflixed.  My favorite part (okay, my favorite part in the first half -- I'll need to finish it tonight) is where the main character (can't remember his name now) is riding his bike behind the Cinzano equipment truck, and the truck driver holds fingers out the window so the biker can know how fast he is going (40 mph, 50 mph, and then the truck gets pulled over).  A pretty cheesy movie overall, but fun to watch when getting into biking.

Today there was no rain in the forecast, so we rode to work, even though the weather looks even more threatening today than it did yesterday (perhaps I shouldn't trust the NPR weather forecast quite so much).  I'm definitely getting more comfortable and experimenting with new routes (in particular, trying to find one that doesn't take me past the bus station -- riding down a narrow street with buses parked the entire length of each side just isn't fun).  My post the other day generated a lot of advice about biking, seat height, and knees.  A super-experienced friend who owns four bikes suggested keeping the seat low for commuting and then raising it for long rides to protect my knees.  I'll try raising the seat next time I'm riding in a park or someplace with very little starting and stopping, and maybe eventually I'll get used to it enough to keep the seat up all the time.

After hearing this story, I feel, on the one hand lucky to live close enough to work that I have the option of walking or biking and don't have to resort to such extreme measures to get to work quickly and/or cheaply, and on the other hand like I'm missing out on something.  Slugging would definitely earn sustainable commuting points in Ann Arbor's Commuter Challenge, and it actually sounds like it could be really interesting once or twice, but on a daily basis might get pretty exhausting.  Hearing about it reminded me of traveling by tro-tro in Ghana.  Tro-tros are basically minibuses or vans, completely unmarked, that serve as the public transportation in Accra, the capital city.  I only rode it once, coming home from a day at the University library.  The first challenge was knowing where to pick it up, since the stops are also usually unmarked, but that ended up being pretty easy -- it is the place where everyone is waiting.  When a tro-tro pulls up, the next challenge is figuring out its destination, since they are unmarked.  I was going to Kwame Nkrumah Circle, so I waited for the tro-tro with the guy leaning out the window making a circle motion with his finger.  Then there was some pushing and shoving to get on (it was rush hour, so everyone was trying to get home from work), and I got the last seat, all the way in the back.  Since the tro-tro was completely full, there was no aisle, so I passed my money to the guy in front of me, and eventually it made its way to the driver, who handed my change to the guy in the front row, and it eventually made its way back to me.  I don't even remember now how I signalled that I wanted to get off when we reached my stop, but I jumped out the back door having just had the best commuting experience of my life.  Then I emailed David about it, and he told a friend from Nigeria, who said I should never do it again (I'm not going into details on why, but she did, and it was pretty convincing), so then I was back to taxis.

Walking and biking are pretty quick and convenient ways to get to work (when you live less than a mile from your office), but perhaps not nearly as interesting as some other commuting methods.

Biking to Work

Now that I have a bike, I have been trying to bike to work.  I say "trying" because, even though I have successfully made it to work on a bike twice and home from work once, I'm still not sure this bicycle commuting thing is for me.  To begin with, I've just learned that I ride entirely wrong.  Well, I guess the riding is okay, it is the starting and stopping that are wrong.  I keep the seat low enough so that I can touch my toes to the street without having to get off the seat.  Until a couple of days ago, when I started reading up on bike riding form, I just thought this was how everyone did it.  So I start by straddling the seat with my toes on the ground, and then just put my feet on the pedals and go.  Works fine for me.  But it turns out that, if you can put your feet on the ground, the seat is too low.  One is supposed to start by straddling the bar, and then lift one's rear end to the seat by pushing down on the pedal.  In other words, you are supposed to be in motion BEFORE getting on the seat.  This just blows my mind.  So today, with some coaching from David, I tried raising my seat and doing it the right way.  First I fell trying to get on the bike, and then, at the first stoplight, I fell trying to get off the bike.  Finally I just lowered the seat and did it the old way.  Is this terrible?  For David (and probably most other people) it just comes so easily.  He even said that it never occurred to him that somebody would not know how to get on a bike.  I am just so frustrated.  I think it is like trying to learn a foreign language -- you can understand the grammar and vocabulary, but unless you start speaking the language as a child, you will always have the wrong accent.  I may be able to get on a bike and ride, but I fear I will never be a fluent cyclist.

Weekend On Wheels

Two big news items this weekend.  First, David and I got new bikes.  Rather, David and his mom got new bikes, and I inherited his mom's old bike.  But it is the perfect size for me and after a quick tune-up and a new chain at the bike shop, it was ready to go.  David's new bike was ready on Friday night, and when we picked it up, we also purchased all the biking accessories we might ever need: helmets, locks, water bottles, tail lights, a pump, and velcro straps.

My first ride on the new bike occurred Saturday -- a trip to Hudson Mills Metropark with two coworkers.  I should preface this story by explaining that I had probably ridden a bike about ten times prior to this in my entire life.  I never learned how to ride as a child because my parents didn't try to teach me until I was ten, which was way too late -- by then I was old enough to be scared and, after a few memorable crashes (one of which involved falling into a beach volleyball pit), I decided it just wasn't worth it.  When I was thirteen, my dad took me mountain biking on one of my trips to visit him.  I don't know if he had forgotten that I didn't know how to ride a bike, or if he just figured that I would learn while we were doing it, but it turned out fine: I surprised myself by being able to just get on and ride, though I did eventually fall and scrape both knees.  I count that as Bike Ride Number One because it was the first time I was actually able to ride without having to start out with a parent pushing me.  Bike Ride Number Two was just over a year later, and was a forty-mile fundraiser for my high school marching band.  I borrowed a bike from friends and managed to do the whole ride without any trouble.  The next year, we did the same fundraiser (Bike Ride Number Three), and for some reason it was a lot harder for me (perhaps a result of hard living during the intervening year).  On this ride, our band director always started last and rode behind everyone else, "to pick up the bodies," as he put it.  The route was the bike path along the Pacific Ocean from Santa Monica to Redondo Beach and back and, on the way back, my friends and I found ourselves lying on the side of the path, wondering if we were ever going to make it home.  The band director yelled a greeting as he passed us.  That's right, he passed us.  So much for picking up the bodies.  We did eventually make it home, but the bike-a-thon was discontinued after that.  Not because of us, but I was sad to not have the chance to do better the next year.  That was 1994.  Since then, I have probably ridden about seven times: a couple of rides on the beach (though never again all the way to Redondo) with my mom, a few rides in college during the summer I stayed on campus, a ride with David around Bird Hills and a ride with my friend Sara to and around Whitmore Lake on a bike that I was storing for somebody, and riding around Key West when David and I were there in February. 

One thing I never learned on these rides was how to use the gears, or even why to use them.  So before I headed out on Saturday, David tried to give me a quick lesson, though gear shifting is so natural for him that he couldn't even remember the logic of it (higher number = harder to pedal, lower number = easier to pedal).  After that quick lesson, I hit the road with one coworker, and we met up with another about a mile down the road.  From there, it was about eleven miles to the park.  I rode between the other two and, every now and then, the friend behind me would tell me to shift gears.  He also encouraged me to try pedaling standing up, which was a bit scary -- I didn't want to lose any points of contact with that bike!  It ended up being a lovely ride, punctuated with a suprise birthday party for one of my coworkers at the park.  He was, indeed, very surprised -- it turned out that his wife had planned the party at the park several weeks ago, and then he independently planned this bike ride to the park, and it all worked out pretty well.  I couldn't stay long at the party, and my other coworker graciously rode home with me.  By the time we got home, my odometer read 30 miles, which is not at all bad for the first ride on my new bike.  Actually, distance isn't the problem for me.  Once I'm on, I can ride forever.  The things I have trouble with are starting, stopping, shifting gears, going up hills, passing through narrow places, sharp turns, and negotiating traffic.  I guess I have a lot to work on.

But the weekend's excitement doesn't end there.  The reason I had to get back to Ann Arbor, and the second big news item of the weekend, was to pick up my race packet for the For Women Only 5K race.  I got to the race headquarters just in the nick of time (and only realized when I got there that I had put on the completely wrong shoes -- good thing I wasn't racing that day!), and picked up my t-shirt, race number, and timing chip.  Following the advice of The Penguin, I tied my chip to my shoe and pinned my number to my shirt (not the race t-shirt) that night, so I would be ready to go in the morning. 

When I got in the car to head to the race, I found an envelope with my name on it on the steering wheel.  It was a card from David, with a very apropos quote from Oscar Wilde: "To regain my youth I would do anything.  Except take exercise, or get up early, or be responsible."  I spent a good two minutes laughing out loud in the car before I drove off.

When I got to the race, I realized I had pinned my number to the wrong part of my shirt, but it turned out to be a colder day than I had expected, and I made a last minute change (in my car in the parking lot) to a long-sleeved shirt, so I had to repin the number anyway.  I arrived about half an hour before the race and just didn't know what to do with myself.  I didn't know anyone there and everyone else seemed to be with a group, or at least with another person.  I ran around a bit to get warmed up, stretched, went to the bathroom (there were long lines of women waiting for both women's and men's rooms, so men couldn't get in at all), and lined up at the start line, toward the back of the middle of the pack.  And then it started, and I was running.  I didn't really have any concept of how quickly I was going; I just followed some people and passed others.  But it felt difficult, and I was wondering if biking the day before had maybe been a bad idea.  I kept going, though, and was fine.  At one point, I was right behind two women running together, and they asked if I wanted to pass between them.  I replied that I didn't know if I wanted to pass them, and they said, "go on, girl!" so I did.  On the course, people were very friendly (except for one woman who was all elbows, but she quickly passed just about everyone).  There were a lot of little girls from Girls on the Run, and a lot of moms running with them.  There was even a man running, with a race number and everything and, when I passed him, I heard someone saying, "I think you are the only man running today."  All along the way, there were volunteers cheering us on, pointing us in the right direction, handing out water, and telling us how far we had left to go.  At the three mile mark, we made the final turn and the path was just lined with spectators (many of them men with strollers), cheering us down the final tenth.  When I saw the clock, I was just amazed, and realized why the run had felt hard -- I had never run so fast in my life, though "fast" is, of course, relative.  When I crossed the finish line, I checked to make sure I hadn't lost the car key tucked into my shorts, somebody cut the chip off my shoe, and I beelined for the food table, which was curiously un-crowded.  I wondered if everyone else had gone home already.  After three glasses of water, early results had been posted, and I got my time -- 27:12, much better than the under-30 I had been hoping for!  Then it occurred to me that I hadn't stretched yet, so I did that, and by the time I finished, the food table was mobbed.  Everyone hadn't gone home already, they were just behind me (full results here).  Overall, it was definitely a fun experience, but I think it would have been even better if I had been there with other people.  I guess I either need to meet more runners or convince my friends of the joys of the sport.