Woman's Best Friend April 22, 2011

Hello cyber friends!  Just a writer's note, akin to reading the fine print, but I will not be updating my blog on a daily basis.  I think I'll be doing well with once per week, otherwise it may get boring listening to my ramblings (and I can ramble, believe you me). 

That being said, I HAD to mention an experience today on my run/walk, and I HAVE to introduce you to my dog Bella.  She will be one of my companions on my adventures outdoors, and she is also a huge couch potato (which is where she currently is as I'm writing this).  I got her from a rescue organization called Lucky Pup Rescue, which my Aunt Missy and Uncle Bob do volunteer work for.  I had been hemming and hawing about getting a dog for a long time; one the one hand, I was really jonesing for a pup of my own, on the other I was concerned about taking care of it.  Out of the blue, Missy called me up and said that she had a dog for me.  I agreed to go and "see" what it was all about, but made it clear I had not agreed or signed anything.  So, one sunny day 2 years ago, I went down to their farm and met Bella (she was called Queenie back then, a name that did not suit her in the least).  If I could have chosen a dog out of a catalogue that fit all my needs and lifestyle, Bella was it!  She's a yellow lab with an unknown mix of dog in her (ok, ok, so she's a mutt).  She was the right size (50 lbs), the right temperment (not too energetic but willing to get off the couch once in awhile), and very sweet.  I knew, when I saw her, she'd be coming home with me that day.  I haven't regretted it since! 

Not only that, I am learning that my running skills are on par with her behavior on the leash.  Namely, we are both beginners in this venture.  That was made very apparent to me today as we set out on our challenge.  A woman jogged by us, definately an expert at this exercise, with her dog.  Now, I don't mean to sound rude, but this lady didn't exactly exude friendliness.  She seemed more annoyed by the behavior of my dog than happy to be meeting another runner along the way.  Of course, her dog was running impressively at her side, head up and tail wagging, like he was posing for the front cover of Fitness Magazine.  MY dog was lunging at her head collar, completely unfocused on what she was supposed to be doing, trying to make friends with the runner and her dog.  My cheeks flared as I imagined Victoria Stillwell (from It's Me or the Dog) shaking her head and giving me one of her hard, judging stares.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot convince Bella that not everybody that she meets wants to be her friend.  She is an incredibly social animal, entirely confident in her ability to elicit love from people, that is never occurs to her that someone might actually NOT like her.  Gosh, what would it be like to have that kind of confidence?  Blogging friends, we certainly can learn a lot from our dogs!

Until next time....


 

The Couch to 5K Challenge April 20, 2011

So, today was a raining and thundering kind of morning. The perfect opportunity to sleep in, do a little reading, and have a lazy time of it. So, what was I doing putting on my sweatpants and lacing up my new sneakers? I was getting ready to set out on the 2^nd day of my new walk/run program. I had a small window of opportunity, once the thunder and rain stopped, to get outside before the next storm passed through (according to the Doppler radar on News Center 6). My brain and body said no, but my heart said go for it; so I did.

At this point, I should give you some background information. The sport of running seems to be gaining popularity in the New England area. Maybe it has always been popular and they just have a better PR person, I don‘t really know. Sometime last fall, I began to notice tons of ads on TV and in the newspaper for different races and walks, some for charity and some just for the heck of it. All the people in the ads, clad in their cute running attire and stylish running shoes, were smiling and happy as they crossed the finish line. The more I came across such ads the more a tiny seed of an idea started to bloom in my head; I would become a runner!

I had images of myself, smiling and waving my arms like Rocky Balboa, crossing the finish line. I could envision my family and friends on the side of the road, hooting and hollering me home. In some of my more egotistic daydreams, I even saw the New Center 6 news reporter running up to me with a microphone wanting me to tell the world (well, at least Maine) “how I did it!” Ok, yes, I admit it, my imagination did start to get the better of me, and maybe my intentions were not exactly for the pure love of the sport.

So, I started out in September of 2010 on my own running plan, and things started out pretty well. In week 1 the goal was to walk for 5 minutes, run for 1 and repeat 4 times. Each week, I would increase the time that I ran and lower the amount I walked. I ended up getting to a point where I was running for 4 and only walking for 2 and I was feeling pretty darn proud of myself. I also realized an interesting side effect to all this exercise (no, not just weight loss), I started to feel calmer and more “zen” like. Sure, some days I hated it and was so not motivated to go, but I noticed while I was walking/running I didn’t have time to think about anything else. It was a nice mental break (some may say meditation) from all the worries of my daily life (what will I make for dinner? Did I remember to lock the laptop cabinet at school? And what the heck IS that new noise my car is making?) It was also a nice bonding experience for my pooch, Bella, and made her a much calmer dog at home.

Around November the reality of what I was attempting hit home and I hit a wall. This happened for a couple of reasons: daylight savings time, a cute looking callus on my left big toe, and realizing the race I had wanted to try to run was not the 4K I had thought, it was actually 4 miles! Combine that with the weather cooling down and the amount of daylight decreasing, it seemed to be the end of my running days. I’m enough of a couch potato to not be too excited to run or walk in the darkness, no matter how many cool little blinking lights you can get to signal to drivers that, not running you over, would make your day! Suffice it to say, my motivation waned and I retreated to my old friend, the couch.

But what about an indoor treadmill you say? I have one, although I think it recently broke. I’ve just never seen the point of a treadmill, running in 1 place while staring at a blank wall just didn’t get my get up going. I’ve tried reading while running on a treadmill, but it never worked out and I ended up with motion sickness. No, I took the path of lease resistance and gave up.

Fast forward a few months, the weather is warmer and the snow is gone, and I feel ready to give it another try. I realized last week that it was time to pick myself up by the shoe laces and get out there! THIS time around I am a little more realistic, I know what to expect and what I need to do. THIS time I am not running for glory or fame, in fact, I don’t even have a particular race in mind. THIS time I am running because I know my body can do it. I’ve spent a lot of time as a teen and young adult thinking not having much faith in my body’s ability to do things. One thing I am learning through my adventures is that, yes my body can if I let it! It’s a pretty empowering feeling. So, happy running couch potatoes, even if it is vicariously through the TV or through using the Wii Fit! Hey, there is no shame, you have to start somewhere!!

For more information on some great beginning walking/running programs, check out
　
　
　www.coolrunning.com. I am working on the Couch to 5K as referenced in the online article by Josh Clark.

Pineland Farms skiing (or icing the boob)

February 1, 2011
  It’s winter and it’s my birthday. Past birthdays included heading out on the town with my best girlfriends (ala Sex and the City), getting an embarrassingly huge drink at Margaritas, and then trying to find someplace to stash my birthday sombrero (yes, I do actually own one) while we get our groove thing going out on the dance floor. However, this birthday found me in my Blazer, with skis in tow, heading to Pineland Farms in New Gloucester, Maine. This would be my 2^nd ski adventure with Jeff this season, and this time we were on his home turf.
  Pineland has a unique and interesting history of any cross country skiing place out there (in my humble opinion). Technically, cross country skiing is just a small part of what Pineland Farms is really all about. In 1908, the campus was opened to serve as a school for the mentally handicapped of Maine. It closed in 1996 and it’s 1600 plus acres was purchased by the Libra Foundation in Maine. Now, the incredibly maintained, sprawling campus includes: an equestrian center, a YMCA, a non-profit, self-sustaining farm, and other various businesses and ventures.
  If Sunday River or Sugarloaf are the crème de la crème downhill ski resorts in Maine, I have to think that Pineland is the crème de la crème for cross country. The campus is absolutely beautiful and incredibly well groomed. Standing on one of the easier trails, breathing in the fresh air and basking in the sunshine, it is hard to believe this place ever had had such a different, perhaps even misguided, purpose. It is hard to think that the sterile, hard word “institution” could have ever been applied to this beautiful land. What must it have been like for the people who lived in these buildings? Did they get to enjoy it, as we do now?
  I met Jeff at the entrance, and immediately he wanted to head up a rather large hill that was the official starting point for the trail system. I was fine with that, I chose the no less honorable route of taking off my skis, walking on the side of the trail up the hill, until I found the flattest spot to put my skis back on. A woman nearby, who was skiing with her son, and who looked to have a similar view as I did on avoiding unnecessary risks, smiled at me and said, “there’s no shame! I do the same thing when he (nodding to her son) wants to act more extreme.”
  With skis back on, I began to get back into the glide and slide rhythm that is cross country skiing. I was huffing and puffing, but I was doing much better than last time. I think I was able to fool a few people into thinking I knew what I was doing. That is, until I noticed the people with skate skis, flying by me with their graceful movements that I can only describe as dancing. These were the experts, clad in their spandex thermal tops and lightweight bottoms that left little to the imagination. I should invest in some of this wear, I found myself thinking, then wondered if they sold those in plus sizes.
  We took a trail that went into the woods called Oak Hill Trail. It boasted a total of 4.8 kilometers with the option of connecting to some intermediate and expert trails (which was not something I planned on doing today). The nice thing about Pineland is that the trails are groomed with 2 sets of grooves that, if your attempting classic cross country, will keep your skis on the straight and narrow during your experience. The middle track is reserved for skate skis or those brave enough to not need the grooves (or who think they are brave enough, I find with skiing bravery and stupidity can sometimes run hand in hand).
  The first hill we came to was considerable, and was made more alarming because it curved to the left at the bottom. My downhill instincts told me I should slalom back and forth, Jeff told me that I better not try that. The best thing to do, he said, was stick my skis in the grooves, balance and fall down on purpose if I felt out of control. I told him that I doubted my fall would be on purpose, that gravity has a way of making you do things you don’t want to do. But, I followed his lead, bent my knees, pushed off and hope for the best. ½ way down I felt exhilarated with the thoughts, “I’m doing it, I’m doing it, I’m really doing it. I CAN do it” running through my head. I almost made it to the bottom when, woosh, I fell forward, like a sack of potatoes, right onto my left breast! Ladies, if you have not experienced this, you are lucky, because it hurt! It also made me roll around on the snow in fits of laughter because all I could think was, “ow, I just landed on my boob!” Jeff, of course being a guy, just stood there watching me with a confused expression, and reminded me I should get up out of the snow before I got run over by another skier.
  The rest of the trail was better, with fewer hills; but, as Jeff reminded me about ½ way through, if you go down you must go up (notice I say ½ way, in other words, way too late for me to turn back). I dragged myself up the hills and across the rest of the trail, and collapsed at the wooden bench that someone had so thoughtfully put at the end of the trail. I bet, whoever made that bench, had skied this trail before! Maybe they were even a couch potato, it seems like something we would do. I think, my only criticism of this bench is that it did not come with a built in back massager or foot soak; but maybe that is a note I can put in the suggestion box for next year.
  For now, this is the couch potato, retreating to her chair with an ice pack for her boob (yes, it has left a bruise) and watching the episode of Glee that I recorded. Until next time….

5 Field Farms Skiing Winter 2011

January 15, 2011
  It’s winter in Maine and it’s cold. For a couch potato, it is the perfect time of year. Cold and snow mean not having to feel guilty for lounging on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa steaming on the coffee table, watching reruns of your favorite HBO shows via Netflix. I know for some die hard outdoor enthusiasts, snow and cold only add to the excitement of their outdoor adventures. Their vision of the perfect winter day is stashing their skis in whatever SUV they drove at the time, heading to Mt. Washington, ignoring the avalanche warnings, and hiking up to Tuckerman’s to catch some powder. There is certainly nothing wrong with that. I can only say that my vision of the perfect winter morning usually does not include me pushing and pulling myself into ski pants and a ski jacket that left me feeling a bit like the state puff marshmallow man. It did not include me staring warily down a large hill, conscience that “downhill” was not an adjective that could be applied to my skis, and knowing that my companion was waiting impatiently at the bottom for me to catch up.
  Yet, that is just what I was doing today at 5 Field Farms in Bridgton, Maine when the temperature was a balmy 15 degrees. For cross country enthusiasts, 5 Field is a wonderful place to spend the day. In the Fall, it is actually an operating apple orchard that abuts property preserved by the Loon Echo Land Trust. This wonderful organization has helped to save 3,750 acres of land in the Sebago Lake region that would have otherwise been given over to land developers and other projects. One of their greatest achievements was to create the Bald Pate Mountain Preserve, which maintains a network of 6.7 miles of trail that leads to the scenic views on top of Bald Pate Mountain. It is actually one of the perfect places for novice outdoors people, like yours truly, to gain some needed experience.
  I was not here alone, my friend Jeff had called me up to invite me to ski with him. When I first met Jeff, we had a conversation that went something like this:

Jeff: Do you cross country ski?
Me: Sure, of course I do, I grew up in Maine didn’t I? (never mind I had only been 1 time with my older brother, and that didn’t happen until I was well into my 20s)
Jeff: Great! (taking out a brochure for his favorite skiing spot and handing it over) This place has some great trails, I do the 5 mile loop every weekend.
Me: Great (feigning a smile as I anxiously look over the map showing very few beginner trails and a boat load of black diamond ones). No problem. I’m up for it! Uh…just…well…are they all black diamonds? (pointing to the map) Where are the rest of the little green circles?

  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t exactly lie to Jeff as much as I underestimated how different cross country skiing was from downhill. I may be a couch potato now, but I wasn’t always so; namely in the years between 5-10, when I had more energy than a long distance runner. I can boast that I, literally, grew up at Shawnee Peak Skiing Area. I was one of those cute little 5 year olds in ski school, with her hands on her knees, hot pink skis pointed into a perfect v shape, skiing in a snaking line behind her instructor. I was pretty good, actually, so why wouldn’t I be good at cross country?
  Well, cross country skis do not have edges for one; so if you find yourself getting into trouble on the way down a small hill and try to cut in, you will find yourself toppled over into a snow bank. It is also incredibly hard to make the darling little v shape wedge that my downhill instructor used to tell me, was my saving grace. “If nothing else, make the wedge and you’ll be ok,” she used to say. Well, on cross country skis, a wedge does NOT mean you’ll necessarily be ok. I found that cross country skiing was more of a balancing act on one hand, and a huge cardiovascular work out, on the other. The principles of downhill are fairly simple, point your skis down and let gravity do all the work as you go along for a “free ride.” In cross country, you don’t move unless you make yourself move, and it is more about gliding than riding. One thing about cross country, because it is such a workout, it warms your body up to a point where you don’t notice the freezing temperatures.
  So, Jeff and I spent the day alternating between gliding (he slightly more gracefully) along flat trails and trying to navigate some moderately steep hills. The sky was blue, the sun was out, and it turned out to be a lot of fun once I got used to it. Towards the end, we had the option to get back into our car and drive to a different location that afforded us with more trails to choose from. To my surprise, even Jeff agreed that a burger and fries at Ricky’s Diner sounded like a better plan and we’d save the other trails for a different day. The way this winter was going, we didn’t think we’d have to worry about snow being in short supply anytime soon!

Blueberry Ledge Trail September 2010

   To begin with, I think it is only fair to introduce myself to you, I am a couch potato. I prefer movies and books and the comforts of my couch to carrying a 50 pound backpack and taking off into the backcountry for 2 or 3 days. I once knew someone who hiked the Appalachian Trail, an impressive feat no doubt, but one that I have absolutely NO desire to experience for myself.
   But, I do not hate nature by any means. I appreciate the changing of the seasons, I know the thrill of diving feet first into an icy cold mountain stream, and I have experienced that feeling of breathlessness one can get when they have hiked up a mountain to take in amazing views. I just don’t always like the effort I have to expend to get to these places. Which is why I decided to start an outdoors column; but not one for the avid outdoors man or woman, it is one for the rest of us. The ones, sitting on our couches on a beautiful sunny day, who feel we should get outside and do something but are stumped to figure out exactly what.
Throughout this column, I hope you will join me as I huff, puff and sweat up mountains and down them so that I can give you a candid, honest summary of some of the trails, peaks, and other random outdoor experiences that are accessible for the rest of us.


Blue Berry Mountain:
  Don’t let the name fool you, this wasn’t the cute little jaunt through a fairytale meadow that I thought it would be. Sure, it starts out slow and flat, luring you into a false sense of confidence. Then, once you’re an 1/8^th of a mile or so in, too far to turn back without hurting your pride, the mountain suddenly turns on you so you end up scrambling up rocks and zig zagging across open ledges.
  Ok, I might exaggerate just a bit. Call it writer’s flare if you’d like. But this mountain, possibly one of the smallest in the Evan’s Notch area, is not as easy as it looks. But the views and the chance to swim in Rattlesnake Pool are definitely worth the sweat and tears.
  There are several ways to get to the Blueberry Ledges. For those non-couch potatoes, you can try the Bickford Brook Trail, that takes you up Ames Mountain, and find the Blueberry Ridge Trail from there. Bickford Brook Trail begins at the Brickett Place just off of 113 near the Cold River Campground.
I chose to start my journey from the White Cairn Trail located down a dirt road, also off of 113. You drive in to a small parking area by a green gate. From there, it is an easy stroll down a dirt road that ends at a Stone House. The Stone House is private property, but worth a peek or two from the road as it is in a beautiful location. Before the stone house, there are 2 trails to choose, both form a loop. Most people climb up the White Cairn Trail and climb down the Stone House Trail. The mountain river and swimming pool is located on the Stone House Trail.
  Once turning onto the White Cairn Trail, you start out on a nice walk in the woods. You are lulled into thinking, “Hey, this isn’t so bad. Maybe I could do Katahdin after all. Knife Edge here I come!” Sure, there are small hills to climb, but nothing that a couch potato couldn’t handle. After about 0.8 miles your legs start to realize, possibly for the first time, that they are no longer sitting stationary in a chair watching reruns of Desperate Housewives. The trail has started to get steeper and, my legs for one, began to feel the burn. Several times you may feel the need to stop, catch your breath, and stare uneasily at the terrain in front of you as it rises steeply from the Earth. Fellow couch potatoes, feel no shame if, in the course of your hike, you feel the need to climb on all fours to scramble over some of the rocks that you may just not be tall enough to step over.
  Eventually, if your persistent enough, you come out onto open ledges that do take your breath away. The views are North to West, and are quite spectacular on a sunny day (of course, a couch potato usually does not hike on rainy ones). Once you reach the views, it is a great time to stop for lunch, take some pictures, and let your legs relax from their climb. When your body tells you your ready (or when you notice your climbing companions getting restless or when your dog starts wandering off with a different group of humans that you met on the way up, take your pick), just continue to follow the ledges around until you reach the Stone House Trail.
  From there, the climb down is much easier if you don’t mind using a completely different set of muscles. If you are clumsy, like me, you may need to take it slow so you don’t accidentally fall down. The closer you get to the end of the trail you will see Rattlesnake Brook. A marked trail on the left will lead you to Rattlesnake Pool, where I highly recommend torturing your body with a dip in the frigid water. It may be cold, but it is the most refreshing swim I have ever taken. Continue further down the trail and you will see a bridge overlooking Rattlesnake Gorge; another great spot for picture taking and resting.
  At this point, with weary legs and a feeling of triumph on your face, you spill back out onto the dirt road that will take you back to the parking lot. Once sitting safely behind the wheel of your car, with the AC on if it is a hot day, you can begin to dream of the ice cream cone that should be the reward for any couch potato hiker in the Maine woods. And, hey, go ahead and splurge for the large, you’ve certainly worked for it today!
Until next time…….