Yeah, El Cap, I'm Looking at You!

So, thus far one of my New Year's resolutions has proved a tedious effort: to hit the climbing wall at least one day a week. Thus far, since the semester started I have gone three times. No wait...maybe only twice. Heck, I can't remember. Let's just say, not many times.

Anyway, I went today. The first (and second, if it even occurred) time I went there were so many climbers on the wall that I had to suffice with doing some bouldering. Which is okay, its still climbing, and arguably far more difficult than the wall. But I wanted to climb high, Gilbert! So, today I got the opportunity. By the time the wall cleared enough for me to sneak in I'd already been bouldering for half an hour. Needless to say, I got 1/4 of the way up a 5.5 and my arms gave out. I took a ten minute break and tried a 5.4. I got 1/2 way before I slipped off a handhold. /sigh

The depressing part is that Stefan (rock climbing extraordinaire, as far as I'm concerned, I watched him climb a 5.7 today with one arm...ONE ARM!) said, "wow, you were climbing much harder stuff than this last year." This was the part where I hung my head in shame and admitted that I hadn't climbed in five months.

So now I feel compelled to find time and energy to get back into rock climbing. Stefan (along with some other members of the climbers club that owns King and Queens Bluff) has offered to help me climb outdoors at the Bluff. All I need to do is show up with shoes and gut-determination.

Fungi Have Feelings Too

One of the things I enjoy most about photography is discovering the simplistic beauty in the things we pass by and take for granted on a daily, maybe even hourly, basis. World, meet Fungus. Fungus, meet World.

Around the Block

So, I finished work on Monday, and I had this crazy idea of hopping on my bike when I got home and cycling around the block. Except well, it wasn't exactly "the block." It was just under three miles, and pretty darn intense. Maybe it was because I was still sore from Saturday's ride, or maybe it was the steep inclines (funny, I never noticed them in the Jeep), but it was tough.



View Larger Map

Double Dip

For those of you that may not follow Reggie's blog (uhm, I think that would be you, Tara), here is his recent post. I figure we only need so many blogs about the awesomeness of this weekend's bike ride. hehe.

http://undonelife.blogspot.com/2009/02/clarksville-to-dover-by-bicycle-attempt.html

So my advisor says to me today...

..."wow, this thesis topic is actually bigger than I realized. You could probably do a Ph.D. dissertation with all this information. We'll need to condense."

Sheesh...just when you think things are going well...BAM!

That Peculiar Institution

Marriage is a quirky thing. It inevitably makes you fat, emotionally and financially dependent upon another human being, and legally bound to them until...well...the contract ends. Or death, whichever comes first. On that note, it also has a habit of sucking the very life out of you. Things that are "mine" become "ours" and my particular tastes, wants, and desires must to be tempered by my mates'.

Now, I've admitted in the past to several people that had Steve and I lived in the same country we probably never would have gotten married. But our different nationalities made it a requirement. Thing is, I never wanted, or envisioned myself, getting married. Much how I never envisioned myself having children. Perhaps I am just innately selfish, but I abhor the physical and emotional demands of relationships. I'm a loner at heart. And I tend to act, much to my husband's dismay, like a single person. Well, maybe not "single" but more accurately a free spirit in a steady relationship. Some people were designed for marriage; it fits their personality like a glove. For me...marriage fits me like an O.J. Simpson glove.

I hate telling Steve where I am, where I'm going, what I'm doing, and when I will be home. And I often rebel against this marital requirement by accidently leaving my cell phone in the car, or accidently clicking the ringer onto silent, or simply escaping into another world where I have no limits on what I do or where I go.

But I've realized one little thing...if I don't stay on top of it, I really do fall into this funk where my needs, wants, desires become secondary to his. For instance, I am an outdoors enthusiast...Steve would rather watch it all go up in a forest fire. And if I'm not careful (or maybe if I don't nag enough) we will spend consecutive weekends doing nothing but things he likes to do...like sit in front of the computer all weekend.

Recently I've decided to start endulging in activities I enjoy, with or without him. In the past, if it were something he didn't enjoy (like hiking) I would simply not do it because a.) if I forced him to participate he would whine and make the whole experience miserable for each other and/or b.) I didn't want to do things without him.

So...all this to say that in a couple weekends I am doing my first backpacking trip. It is one of those things I've always wanted to do, but have been unable to do with Steve because of his sleep apnea (sp?). Its a 2.5 day excursion into the wilds of Tennessee in ball/ovary freezing temperatures, roughing it with nothing but the bare essentials for survival. Or at least that is the plan. I'm excited. So you guys set your calendars...Steve will be looking for company come February 21st.

Fun Fact: "that peculiar institution" was a nice political euphamism for slavery prior to the Civil War.

Life Left to Chance

This last weekend Steve and I penciled in a date with our Knoxville buddies, Gabe and Emilie, to go skiing. Of the four of us, I was the only one who had never been skiing (or done anything remotely athletic in snow other than make a GIANT snowball one year...but hey, I'm from Florida, it's an understandable hole in my life), so I was really really really really excited. So we arrived at Gabe and Em's house late Friday night to hear that they *probably* would not be able to go skiing with us on Sunday due to two unexpected turns-for-the-worse. 1. Gabe officially got fired from Jewelry TV and 2. Emilie's future with Kimberly Clarke is questionable. But they offered to join us for some awesome hiking on Saturday.

And it indeed was awesome. We hiked a trail unofficially known as "Trainwreck Hike," aptly named as it ends (or maybe that's just where we decided to stop and turn around back for the car) at the site of a 1920's train wreck. It took us forever to reach what was reported to only be 2.8 miles, and we had mixed expectations about what we would find. Along the path we discussed...is it a train, as in locomotive, and if so, where the hell are the tracks?.... is it a wagon train? and if so, how the hell can there be anything remaining after so many years?...and why the hell would anyone chose this bumpy, hilly "road" to transport anything at all? Well, when we arrived we got some pretty cool answers. This is what we found: its a steel steam-powered locomotive, complete with steel wagonwheels (not pictured) lying in the bed of a creek. It is very cool, and if I can remember the name of the trail I would like to go back again and get closer (this is not my photo, and the water was too high on Saturday to get close).



Anyway, after this venture, Gabe and Em left us in Gatlinburg and Steve and I headed out to celebrate our birthdays with a little Italian food and a bottle of red wine. It was fun stumbling around Gatlinburg afterwards...we bought taffy, touristy stickers, and flavored coffee (and as most of you know, I HATE flavored coffee...yeah, I was tipsy for sure!)

The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed and made our way to Ober Gatlinburg for skiing. But, as we were getting closer and closer to the mountain, we started toying with the idea of trying out snowboarding. Gabe and Emilie were really our inspiration for skiing...I really wanted to try both...Steve seemed a little hesitant but also seemed equally willing to try either. So, as we stood in front of the cashier at Ober, who looked at us with pained patience as we dug around in our pockets for a coin and flipped it to decide what we would do, fate decided for us. Tails ftw. Snowboarding it was.

Now, for those of you that have never been snowboarding, but have ever critisized the guys and gals you see on TV...let me just tell you now, it's a lot harder than it looks. The boots are heavy, the board is awkward, and once your strapped in it takes a lot of effort to not head straight down the mountain at breakneck speed. Steve spent most of the day boarding for 5-10 feet, then he'd fall, get upset, fight and kick to get the snowboard clips released, and then huff back up the hill where he would sit and watch me snowboard for 30 minutes before repeating the process all over again. Me? Well I went up and down that darn hill as much and as often as I could. The more I fell, the more determined I was to not fall the next time. After about five hours of this I was exhausted, and at 4pm, Sunday, February 1, 2009, Steve and I delicately made our way back down the mountain and gorged ourselves sick at The Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. Restaurant. Good times!

Anyway, here's a picture of me looking all suave in my gear:









X-Games XIV, Here I come!