"Valor Awards Week," and a Whole Lot of Travel

Sara reminded me today that I’m way behind on updating this blog. If she only knew. I’m behind on that and pretty much everything else. We’ve been running around like crazy lately, without a ton of downtime. Eventually our plan is to sleep in and do some yardwork (since last week’s snow was hopefully our last!) Maybe this weekend...

In exciting news, Seth took the GRE last weekend, and he nailed it. I was stoked that his weeks of late night and early morning studying had paid off (even though this means I’ll have to give up my sole ownership of the remote.) I think he’s just excited to be able to give all the stacks and stacks of GRE books away for good!

 He left the next day for Portland. Sometimes I hate my job, because it means that- unlike the wives and girlfriends of all our Walter Reed friends, of whom I’m often jealous- I can’t just pick up to travel (fun trips and otherwise), and we don’t always get to do stuff as a team. But then I remember that it’s nice to have my own job, my own identity, and- I admit- no obligation to justify the cost of pedicures and lululemon splurges. At any rate, Seth needed to get out of the house after his GRE-imposed hostage situation, and I think he enjoyed the break. Even if he had to deal with a “pea green with envy” wife who was feeling very downtrodden, stuck in traffic while he hung out on my favorite coast.

It was an insanely quick trip (I definitely didn’t envy that part), but it meant the world to him to be able to pin Doug’s silver star on him. Story here: http://www.katu.com/news/local/Oregon-Air-National-Guard-airman-receives-Silver-Star-3-others-Bronze-252131451.html?mobile=y

And because it seemed to be “valor awards week,” we turned around basically the minute he got back and made the long haul down to Bragg to see the rest of his team receive awards ranging from silver stars to multiple purple hearts. Story here: http://www.armytimes.com/article/20140327/NEWS/303270061/Special-Forces-soldiers-honored-valor-Afghanistan

It was really special to be there for the presentation of those awards- many of them stemming from the same incident in which Seth lost his leg- and we always love the opportunity to catch up with friends. (Plus, Seth found time to get a new tattoo in his effort to beat the promulgation of the new regs limiting them.) But trying to cram everything into short trips always gets the better of us. After a couple days of running around- me in the rental car we broke down and procured after we realized how much driving we were both going to wind up doing- and living out of our suitcases and going from party to restaurant to bar, we were thoroughly exhausted and ready to go home.

Of course, when we finally got home we literally threw our suitcases of dirty laundry in the washer and headed out the door for dinner with a good friend of Seth’s who was in town for a conference. Maybe it was a good thing, since we hadn’t eaten at home in so long we had nothing but wilted spinach and spoiled milk in the refrigerator.

I was so beat by the time I got done playing catchup Monday, I was dreading coming home late to a long list of chores and a dirty house. Starting a workweek without a real Sunday to prep for it is the worst. To my delight, however, Seth had spent most of his “grad school admin. day” knocking things off the to-do list. The laundry was done, recycling separated and taken out, new coffee table assembled, and the house looked terrific. And there were flowers on the table. My cup runneth (ranneth? plain old “ran” doesn’t sound as good) over. We polished off our frozen pizza dinner and crashed early. I, for one, am beyond grateful  to be married to such a terrific team player.

So it looks like we’re going to make it to Friday after all. We can’t wait.

Picture of the week is the priceless Lehua, with her 2^nd birthday present from us. A beach bag that we ordered online, not realizing it would be nearly twice her size.

Oh, and this one of Seth, all dressed up to start his internship this week.

Studying and Even More Snow

It snowed on Saint Patrick’s Day.

I love a good snow day as much as the next guy- probably more, in fact- but this is getting ridiculous. We’re only a couple days from the first official day of Spring! and we had finally had to break down and buy a snow shovel.

I know, after the year we’ve had it’s pretty unbelievable that our resolve to avoid the purchase of  shovels and ice scrapers lasted this long, but we’re both spoiled by years in the south, where snow is a novelty and no one is required to travel in it.

Incidentally, this is the snow shovel Seth bought. I’m not even sure how it works. What’s going on with that wheel, anyway?

At any rate, we’ve had another quiet week or so. Seth has to retake the GRE, having gotten into grad school but missing the Army Civil Schooling cutoff by a couple points. It appears that he’s actually studying this time, so we’ve settled into low key evenings where he takes practice test after practice test on my work computer and I lounge on our giant couch with the remote. Kind of a funny role reversal. Plus it cracks me up that, in order to accommodate my "Drop Dead Diva" watching, Seth wears his shooting earmuffs while studying.

Our weekend was uneventful. I entertained myself with a fruitless trip to Sterling in search of a new coffee table, and came back with nothing but smoothies and thirteen fewer dollars, thanks to the abominable Dulles Toll Road. Seth took a break and cleaned the man cave (which made me happy enough to grill for him, usually The Man’s Territory in our house. My chicken souvlaki was actually not half bad. If I do say so myself.)

Because studying is the priority right now, our St. Patrick’s Day was uncharacteristically chill. Seth took me to a local “Irish” dive the night before, where we consumed the requisite Guiness and potatoes while rich white people decked out in green went crazy for an “old white lady singing Kenny G songs,” as Seth put it. Not very Irish, but classic Bethesda, we thought.

We had a snow day for the actual holiday, so Seth studied and I took myself snowshoeing on the canal. Fresh powder, DC-style… There’s only so much corned beef hash anyone can choke down, as Missy points out, so we did “pinot and pizza” instead at Haven, a coal-fired Italian place we hadn’t tried before. It was not half bad- and way better than crowding into one of Bethesda’s two fake-Irish bars with the rest of town. Maybe we’re getting old, but we’re doing it in style!

And now it’s back to the grind.

Photo of the week is this one, which I sneakily took right after we got done swimming laps. I was half afraid I would be arrested for being a camera creep at the pool, but I’m just so proud of Seth I had to share. The guy who only recently had to be coaxed into the water now swims a mile nearly every day- and he's lost 30 pounds of wheelchair weight doing it!

Recovery Week

We got home from California well after midnight on Monday. I had to work in just a few hours (we always try to squeeze every last second out of vacation!), and our return was jarring, to say the least. It had dumped snow on DC again, meaning we spent most of the trip back concerned about flight cancellations. That and, after 65 degree weather in Fresno, it was 8 when we landed and the roads were terrible. We slipped and slid the whole way home, wishing we were still on the West Coast.

We needed a recovery week at home after our trip, though, and enjoyed every minute of it. We gutted out the week, and spent the weekend catching up on sleep and laundry. We obsessively followed the Iditarod, with the help of our own Alaska Insider. (It just wound up today, and WHAT an epic finish!) And we both went for a swim Saturday- Seth in the pool, and me in the Potomac. (I did a charity Polar Bear Plunge with my office. It was freezing.)  

We got to catch up with some great Walter Reed friends this weekend, too, which we really need to do more often. We’re on the go so often, we sometimes forget to enjoy Bethesda! After I recovered from my icy dip, we checked out a hilarious comedy show with Taylor and Danielle (http://taylormorris.org/), and discovered a new local dive bar.

Sunday we helped Flip and Jess (https://www.facebook.com/FriendsOfFlip) move to their new place in Gaithersburg, and they rewarded us with margaritas and delicious Salvadoran food at their new local dive.

And that’s about all our news- we’re finally caught up, just in time for daylight savings to throw us for another loop.

The photo of the week is of Seth’s admission letter to the University of Maryland kinesiology graduate program. I’m super proud of him, and excited about this new chapter in our adventures.

Adventures in "Sunny" Southern Cal

I gripped the wheel with both hands, squinted out the window through the rain and fog, and sighed loudly. Seth, next to me, was a study of patience and calm. “We seriously can’t win with this weather,” I said, for probably the seventh time that morning. “I’m having fun,” he said. “Let’s stop here and get some lunch and a beer.”

A couple of beachside tacos and a pint or two later, and I was feeling better. Seth does know how to handle the occasional fit of temper. This one was, I thought, well-warranted. I had been looking forward to showing him California practically since we met, and had spent weeks making plans to see friends and squeeze in as much scenic beautiful as humanly possible over the long weekend, when “Snowmageddon” ruined out trip. We had rescheduled for this weekend, and arrived to LA Times headlines about the huge storm: http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-california-storms-big-waves-tornado-warning-more-rain-ahead-20140301,0,7788366.story#axzz2v7pXxASh I was nearly inconsolable.

The weather, at least, turned out to be as bad as it sounded. We got dressed up for dinner one night and dashed through the deluge from the valet stand, looking like drowned rats by the time we got inside. I white-knuckled most of the driving as the rain came down in sheets. For the bulk of the scenic drive of the Pacific Coast Highway- which I had been talking up for more than a year- you couldn’t even see the ocean, or tell that the winding road hugged stunning cliffs. We had to avoid Malibu entirely due to mudslides. The redwoods were obscured by fog and downed branches, and we had to squint through pea soup fog to see the iconic Golden Gate and the Hollywood sign.

Hollywood was another story, since I had forgotten all about Academy Awards weekend. The streets
were so blocked off, we couldn’t even get in the obligatory glance at Graumann’s Theater and the Walk of Fame.

Seth promised we could have a “redo,” which cheered me up a little bit, and he was so cheerful about the whole thing that I eventually had to laugh about the weather conspiracy. And we still had a great time. Even though I was so indignant about his missing the Big Sur views that I made him google “what it usually looks like.”

I got to introduce Seth to some of my very closest friends (and vice versa), and we had a great time with all of them. We made a pilgrimage to Manhattan Beach, went to a killer new beach restaurant with Petey and Lauren, got to see Jean and Travis’ gorgeous new house and cute toddler, and had dinner and cocktails (with mandatory celebrity sighting, of course) in Hollywood with Tori and Todd.

Largely thanks to Seth we enjoyed our soggy road trip, and he got to catch up with a friend in San Francisco. (The nerd I married also insisted that- with hundreds of miles of the most beautiful coastline in the world to see- we go to the Reagan Library. And it was kind of cool.)

We spent a rainy afternoon in bed with room service in Studio City, and found the only dive bar in beautiful- and insanely upscale- Carmel, which served, yes, a bacon bloody Mary. Seth was in heaven. And finally, I got to show him why a trip to Fresno to see the Russos, who make five-star Italian dinners and never let a wine glass go empty, is always worth the trip.

The whole thing- monsoon notwithstanding- in retrospect, was pretty magical, if comical. I’m beyond thrilled that Seth enjoyed my favorite people and places, and patting myself on the back for marrying a guy who’s a killer road trip buddy- and always knows when to pull over for a beer.

The photo of the week is Seth's completely outrageous fortune cookie from dinner one night. Unbelievable.

Oh, and our obligatory souvenir photo from the Reagan Museum. His Air Force One really is inside it.

And one more, since we got great news while we were gone: Ben's home!!!



Time Out for Seth's Birthday Week

I took a little blog vacation, and that’s because we’ve been busy celebrating Seth’s birthday/ week/ month (an extended celebration idea I think he got from my Mom!) We were hoping to observe the holiday, along with the also-rans Valentine’s Day and President’s Day, over the long weekend in California. Seth has never been, and I was dying to take him to meet friends and drive the Pacific Coast Highway and enjoy Valentine’s Day at a spa hotel with views of the Golden Gate…

And then Snowmageddon happened. We got over a foot of snow the day before we were supposed to leave, and the East Coast shut down. Literally. We went through six iterations of cancelled flights over three days before we finally, reluctantly, rescheduled the trip. Seth still made Valentine’s Day special, with gorgeous roses and presents and chocolate and wine… although I think the stuffed burger makers I got him, from an “As Seen on TV” commercial, were pretty inspired as well. We had various grilled meats at home, and spent most of the weekend inside with the hatches battened.

The silver lining was that I finally got my late Christmas present! Seth finally, after a lot of begging on my part, kept his Christmas promise and got into the pool with the aqua jogger, and he loved it. We spent hours running in the pool over the long weekend (the one workout we can both do right now!), and he’s gone every day since and even knocked out some lap swimming. He loves the no-impact cardio. And although I almost drowned him when he asked me why I had been “holding out” on him with such a great workout, I’m elated.

We made it to Mount Vernon for President’s Day- along with about half of DC- but it was beautiful in the snow. We couldn’t believe we had never been and vowed to make it back after a chronically loose screw on the prosthetic cut the walking tour short. (I’m still hobbling around in a boot cast, so we were a pretty pathetic pair.)

My birthday present was, as usual, kind of a fail. I ordered Seth an awesome custom Benelli shotgun with the help of one of his old football coaches, but of course it still hasn’t arrived. Poor guy got a card and a bottle of whiskey. I dropped the cupcakes I had picked up for him, and the banner I made fell on the floor before he got up. I really am the worst at occasions. (Luckily, Mom came through with bacon-topped cupcakes.) We did go out to a couple of nice birthday dinners with friends (why have one birthday dinner when you can have two?), and spent some great evenings at home watching the Olympics over a bottle of wine. One of my very favorite things about my husband is that he loves any and all sports and competitions. I think I caught him yelling at figure skaters at one point.
 

Snowmageddon of course manifested itself on the roads, so I had an abysmal week fighting traffic. It twice took me two hours to get home (27miles!), which is its own exquisite form of torture. Seth is to be commended for not locking me in the basement once I made it home on those nights.

This weekend was insultingly beautiful and warm, after the havoc wreaked by a week of storms. Saturday it was in the 60s, and I even took the new kayak out for a spin on Accotink Bay. We wrapped up Seth’s birthday week with a Restaurant Week dinner in Baltimore with friends, complete with hilariously bad service and a real, live hair in the soup. We will not be returning to The Black Olive, but a good time was had by all anyway.

Here’s to 31 great years, and many more to come, for the love of my life. He even had his own birthday message. Shameless self-promotion, reprinting it here, but I thought it was really sweet.  

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that made my birthday day week so special. I should have typed this sooner but it seemed like every day someone was doing something to make the whole week super special. I feel very blessed to have so many great friends, family members, and mentors in my life that I truly love and respect.

Thank you, Amy, for making the last year of my life the best year of my life, despite the fact that it was also the craziest year of my life. I am thankful every day to be alive, and you make it even more rewarding.I look forward to living many more years with you by my side. Thanks for being my best friend.

Oh. The photo of the week is the one at top, of us literally blocking Mount Vernon. (Also entitled, "why you don't hand your phone camera to strangers.") This happens to us all the time. The first time was when we had just started dating, and we were standing on the steps of the Lincoln Monument. Of course the picture was our faces... and the steps. I guess it's tradition by now.any great friends,family members, and mentors in my life that I truly love and respect.

Thank you Amy Niemanfor making the last year of my life the best year of my life, despite the factthat it was also the craziest year of my life. I am thankful everyday to bealive and you make it even more rewarding. I look forward to living many moreyears with you by my side. Thanks for being my best friend

A Forced Slowdown

We had a rare down week, followed by a lazy weekend. Much of that was dictated, of course, by my limited mobility, but I guess slowing it down occasionally isn’t such a bad thing. Seth has been a literal saint, insisting that I sit on the couch while he does all the chores and makes dinner and fetches thing and hooks up the ice machine (which we inherited after Tony’s double knee surgery, and is amazing.)  He even admitted that having to be a one-man show made him appreciate how much I usually do around the house, which is every working woman’s dream. I’d consider this a major win, if I didn’t consider it akin to a prison sentence to sit on the couch while somebody else does stuff.

We did make it out on Friday night, for another trip to the Kennedy Center. We saw the Alvin Ailey Dance Company’s amazing show in front of a packed audience, and had dinner and drinks at a cute restaurant in Palisades on the way home. It was a lovely “city” night, and we followed it up with a much-needed sleep-in morning. By Saturday afternoon, though, my inability to sit around combined with my inability to get around had started to wear on us both, and we needed a plan that didn’t involve much walking. He must have been desperate, because Seth acquiesced to a trip to the outlet mall in Leesburg in search of a coffee table just to get me out of the house.

We lasted about five seconds of course, since we both actually hate to shop. We definitely did not find a coffee table. But Seth did somehow talk me into a side trip to a gun store.

Sunday we had brunch with friends in Old Town, and then spent a snowy day on the couch with mimosas in hand. Not bad, if you can’t go for a run.

Our biggest news these days, in light of what I’m calling the forced slowdown, is medical.

I got my cast wet Monday, and after a long day under drying lamps in the casting room (and a scolding or two for walking on it too much), was awarded a boot cast and a weekly requirement to check in. Apparently, I cannot be trusted to sit and rest. It’s a family trait. The Walters energy level speaks for itself, and Seth got in trouble for the same thing, many times.

He, on the other hand, has two amazing new accessories. The first is this BIOM foot. It has a 6000rpm motor that acts as a calf and achilles and helps him push off when he walks. Jury’s still out on it, but the early word is that he doesn’t care for how heavy it is. 

The second is the new ankle brace, which is already pretty indispensable. I’ll have to get a better class on how it works, but if it helps I’m happy. Plus, it looks really high tech. 

Photo of the week: Seth and Scott at brunch

Disaster at Uwharrie, and Silver Linings

I’ve never DNFed (for “did not finish,” reflected in the race results if you walked off the course for some reason) before. Lots of runners have, because of injury or illness or burnout or even getting lost. I almost did once, after a bad burnout at the Marine Corps Marathon a couple years ago following months of racing. I sat down on the curb at mile 17 and refused to go on, but Jackie Bergey- bless her heart- coaxed and prodded and half-dragged me through the rest, for which I will always be grateful.

And then, only 2 miles in to the Uwharrie Mountain Run 40 Miler, I jumped sideways- nimbly, I thought- to avoid getting my feet wet that early in the race. I heard some sort of awful pop and had to walk a few steps. I was pacing Jim, my friend Heather’s husband, for his first 40 (as she had done for mine), and he turned around and looked concerned. “I’m fine,” I told him. “It’s just twisted. I can run it off.” We ran by Heather, crewing for us, at the next aid station, and I yelled that I might need some motrin at the next stop. A couple miles later it became harder and harder to put weight on my left ankle, and it looked pretty swollen. I told Jim to go on ahead and promised I’d catch up with him. Before long, however, I was walking gingerly uphill and crab-crawling downhill, wincing in pain and afraid to examine the damage. One guy who passed me offered to carry me to the next aid station. Trail runners are the best.

At 8, the next time I saw Heather, she took one look at me and peeled off my sock. My ankle was black, and had swollen to the size of a softball. I could no longer walk. I checked my number out with the race volunteers, sat down on the ground, and sobbed. Heather eventually stuffed me into her old Chevy Blazer, which had been ferrying us and our wet socks and dirty clothes to and from trail runs for almost a decade and had years' worth of race numbers stuffed under the seats, and drove me to the nearest gas station. She came out with a six pack of beer and a bait bucket of ice, filled a nalgene with beer (at 9:30am), jammed my ankle into the ice, and told me she understood and I was welcome to cry, but we needed to catch Jim at the next stop.

I was numb, sad, and probably a little shocky. I threw up twice from the pain. Beer helped, and so did having a running buddy, who may not have been very sympathetic but who understood, with me.  Not only was this my first-ever DNF (no matter the reason, it still feels like quitting), I hadn’t done an ultra, or anything I was proud of for myself, since Seth got blown up. I hadn’t realized how much I had really needed this one, from a mental as well as a physical standpoint. Uwharrie had been my first ultra and held a special place in my heart. I had put a lot of things- like mountain runs- that I used to do, that were part of who I was, on the back burner for a long time. It occurred to me that I had built this race up to be a kind of “welcome back” statement for me. I was ready to get this part of my life back, and here was another crippling delay.

It all sort of hit me at once, sitting there in a lawn chair with my foot in a bait bucket of ice, watching other runners gut out my favorite race. I was crushed.  

When I was done wallowing in self-pity, having refocused on the hurting and abandoned Jim, Heather reminded me how lucky I was. I had done a lot of ultras on my own with no support crew. This would’ve been a miserable day indeed, without a warm car and dry clothes and that nalgene of beer.

 Seth showed up mid-afternoon, having spent a late night drinking with Brian, and whisked me away to the emergency room, concerned about a break.  We caused quite a stir at the civilian ER, a one-legged guy fireman carrying his wife through the door. Thankfully, civilian ERs move faster than Army ones, and we left a couple hours later with an inconclusive diagnosis and- you guessed it- motrin and crutches. I was still pretty miserable, but the crutches allowed us to enjoy the rest of the weekend with the Trimbles (including a very sore but victorious Jim) and Jackie and Kevin. Seth caught up with friends, Leslye made an appearance, Jackie and I made a mimosa-fueled Target run for old times’ sake, and Heather put on a killer Super Bowl spread.  It was a great time, minus the hobbling about, and reminded me how much I miss NC.

Back home after several sets of X-rays , an MRI, and countless hours in FBCH waiting rooms, the diagnosis is official: broken ankle and torn ligaments. Weeks and maybe months in a cast. No activity whatsoever for a long time (although Mom has some sort of crazy plan involving chair aerobics.) I hate hate hate being stuck on crutches and unable to carry things or do much, although Seth has been an absolute saint. Totally unprompted, he’s been doing chores, making dinner, and even went grocery shopping (which yielded a few interesting results.) Not only does this make me appreciate him even more- it’s nice knowing you have somebody you can count on to pick up your slack!- but it’s also made me think of his long journey back to mobility. I spent a lot of time worried about his infections and surgeries and pain and TBI, but I didn’t really take the time to think about just the general frustration of being unable to do what you’re used to being able to do. I can’t even carry my own coffee. It drives me nuts. Seth had many long months of that, and to some extent he must still struggle with it. And he does a much better job than I do of handling it without complaint.

So by way of silver linings, this whole thing- while disappointing and frustrating- is not a total loss if it helps us understand each other better, and appreciate each other more. I’m a terrible patient so I’m not sure if that’s what Seth is getting out of it, but I am.

Also, Mom has been feeling sorry for me and delivering food to the office. The pumpkin bread cheered me up significantly.

I cracked up last night as the Niemans spent our evening on the couch icing our various bum limbs. Life is funny, and we are learning to be grateful for every bump, bruise, and laugh. This has to be the photo of the week.