Of sorts. I’ll be keeping this site as a database of sorts, but I’m moving to tumblr. I vastly prefer the format and look of it.
It’s a little boring right now, but the new address is
Nice and short. See? I have learned something about blogging.
Please come with me! 
I haven’t run since Ragnar. I don’t even care. Which just means that when I do start up again it’s going to be tough. There was that sad attempt at a trail run but that was only about 3 miles and it was 4 weeks ago. So really it’s the equivalent of zero miles.
No real reason for it. I’ve been dabbling with my work out videos and I keep talking about going swimming (side note: why does the lap swim have to be at unGodly o’clock in the morning?!) but I have yet to do it.
I’m being a lazy bum and it’s kind of nice.
I need to pick some races so I have something to focus on.
Or maybe not.
I’m wearing my TOP shirt today. I was already, but now it feels extra special.
prepped jars
25 lbs scrubbed and ready to go
favorite herb
We blasted through this in 6 weeks.
jarred & half brined
bath time!
8 weeks of cool, dark storage until yum.
So this is an add that pops up on my sidebar when I’m wasting precious time on the Facebook:
I frowed up in my mouf
I get that it’s supposed to be cute because it’s a French pedicure but with different colors. That’s cool. (I just bought some amazing nail polishes that will make for a really cute nontraditional French mani, but I digress).
This picture really makes me nauseated though.
First and foremost, those are some TALONS! It’s just not right to keep your toenails that long. Really. Can you wear socks with toenails that long? Do you just instantly rip holes in them? Do you stub your toes on EVERYTHING? Do you trip on them? Do you have to buy shoes a half size up to accommodate your toe claws? Barf.
Second, the black just doesn’t work for me. Because now, my brain understands this as: LOSE ALL OF THE TOENAILS!
So. Two toenail themed posts in a row. If that doesn’t completely destroy my readership I don’t know what will.
ALSO. I still desperately need music recommendations.
Metaphorically. As much as I would love a horse, my backyard is a little small. And I definitely don’t mean like a bike-saddle. I’m at peace with the fact that I am not a biker, and will never be one.
No, I mean the whole exercise thing. The spring was full of stress and I took probably the worst route that I could have, and I let my exercising get sporadic. Then there was that one race I had planned for this summer. Oh, speaking of that race, here’s a picture of my foot. It’s below the read more line, but I have no idea how that works in a reader… but it’s not that gross. I mean, it is a foot. You know exactly how gross you find feet. So anyway. Foot and the point of this post below the line.
I spent last week pin-balling between denial, anger and depression on the Kübler-Ross model of the stages of grief. Translation: I was grouchy and teary because I wasn’t ready for Ragnar to be over. (YES, I’m still talking about Ragnar. I’m pretty sure I’ve worked it into every conversation I’ve had in the last 9 days. I don’t see this as a problem.)
We went out of town this past weekend. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go (I was happy just wallowing in my grief, thankyouverymuch), and I knew it would force me to admit that Ragnar was over and I needed to move on. (stage 5, woohoo for personal growth!)
Enter the Little Cabin in the Woods:
I imagine that Ted Kaczynski would approve (bomb making materials not included)
There were beach trips and hikes and one sad attempt at a trail run. I have a billion and twelve ideas of where I want to go in every aspect of my life. Now it’s just a matter of prioritizing and planning and (here’s the kicker) following through. But I’m developing a track record for that last bit, so I’m feeling confident.
The trail run attempt was sad because we lost the trail. Husband is not a runner and even though I promised we could turn around whenever we wanted he refused to even step foot on the 15 mile loop, so we went with the 3 mile loop. It was not very well maintained and we ended up losing the trail in a field about half way along. There were dozens of elk trails and we spent about 30 minutes trying to figure out which was the official path before deciding to turn around. We only had 2/10 of the essential items for getting lost in the woods, so I didn’t want to try that.
Random story not really related to anything: Husband also insists that some other time that we were out at the cabin (some time in the last 6 years) we had a run in with a bear. He says we went for a hike and when we got back to the car it was just coming out of the woods, less than 20 feet from us. He then claims that I walked over to a dumpster (farther from the bear) and closed the lid, all the while scolding the bear for trying to eat trash. While me scolding animals does not sound out of character in the least, I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF THIS HAPPENING WHATSOEVER. Based on his recounting of events I was not traumatized at all. But this is also not the sort of thing that happens to me with such regularity that I would forget it (unlike breakfast). It’s too early to tell, but this story might become our own Great Debate (you know, the one argument that no one actually cares who is right and will last for the entire span of our marriage).
Team Optimus Prime, ready to roll out of Blaine.
Ragnar was never about running for me. It was a continuation of my step-outside-the-box goal that has developed this year. Spending 3 days with a group of people who I first met via the internet? WAAAAAAAAAY out of character. I’m a born and raised Seattleite. We say things like “we should get together soon!” but we really mean “I don’t hate you and if we happen to run into each other again, I won’t pretend to not remember you”. The Land of Lip Service, all the way.
We average 200 days of cloud cover a year. It’s like having a giant blanket pulled across the sky. It makes you feel like you have to go home and watch a movie as soon as your day is over. I’m also a bit scatterbrained of late. I hate that. With those powers combined, follow-through is not my strongest trait. (I stand a better chance if I write things down, but remembering the paper is harder than it seems.)
This was a big follow through for me. There was something that I thought looked awesome and I wanted to do it. I made some (admittedly) half-assed attempts to put together teams in years past but it didn’t pan out for various reasons. The stress (self-induced, entirely) of trying to put this together was a little crazy. I did let some Ragnar things slide while I tried desperately to keep my head above water through those last two quarters at school (I did okay- not as well as I wanted, but magna cum laude isn’t so bad. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that it wasn’t summa instead, but too late to do anything about it now.)
I am ever so eloquently explaining my opinion on the day's weather to my teammates.
I knew the miles would hurt, since up to this point my longest runs have (only) been of the half marathon distance. I did expect the hurt to be different, though. I was sure it would be my IT bands that would hobble me rather than blisters. My socks claim to wick, but either they lie or I was sweating a lot more than I usually do (very possible because it was warmer than my preferred running temps). I quit counting blisters after 6 or so.
Burning through SPF 70: it takes skill, ladies and gentlemen.
I have the post race blues pretty strong today. I miss my team. I miss leapfrogging runners on rural highways in Washington, honking and hollering. I miss having to launch myself in the van, because yes, I am that short. I miss the stories and the laughing and the (very gentle) teasing. I miss the high fives from stranger-runners on the road. I miss the wide-eyed “you crazy!” faces people made upon learning we were an ultra team. Sometimes I put the metal on, but it’s sort of awkward to wear. Right now it is zipped in the center pocket of my purse alongside my Fitbloggin’ name tag. File under: things Sharla can’t let go of.
We’re going camping this weekend (supposedly leaving tonight so as to have a mostly child chatter-free drive). I really don’t want to. But I guess it will give me something to think about other than how I wish it was still Ragnar. I’m packing my trail shoes and I’m going to drag my husband on a run. And there will be at least one barefoot run on the only sandy beach on the northern Washington coast. I’m considering a 5 mile trail race next weekend. I’ve got my eye on a trail half in November. Daydreaming about spring races already.
Autobots roll out!
ETA: go read Mac’s post and Brandon’s post and Tara’s post. It’s all quality, nothing like you’re getting here.
187 (or 190) miles later. The much anticipated finish line.
For starters, I’m a terrible photographer. I took a grand total of three pictures between Thursday morning and Saturday night.
It was absolutely amazing. As I may or may not have mentioned, I’ve wanted to run Ragnar for the past 3 years.
waiting at the start line
Team Optimus Prime has taught me that good things come to those who wait.
Ragnar NW Passage is 187 miles (or 190, depending on who you ask). Ragnar teams are usually made up of 12 runners. The original plan was to run it that way, but sometimes life works out differently. We became an ultra team of 6.
For me, I think it was perfect. I certainly stressed about running over 30 miles a lot more than I would have stressed about my mileage with a regular team, but I think that’s probably a normal reaction. (Smile and nod either way.) I would really have only been able to spend time with the other five runners in my van anyway.
I keep writing in circles. I have no idea how to relate any of this. I’ve never done a relay before, I’ve never run further than a half marathon before, and I’ve certainly never run so many miles on so little sleep. (Which is very, very precious to me.) It’s all very new.
Ragnar has long sold shirts with the slogan “Run. Drive. Sleep? Repeat.” It ought to include “Eat” as well. I did my fair share of running, possibly more eating, very little driving during the actual event, and I know I got a solid hour-long nap.
What I’m hoping is that my teammates will write up some amazing posts so that I can just link to them and say, “Yeah, that’s totally what I meant to say! I was thinking that but couldn’t find the right words.” *COUGH* pretty, pretty please! *COUGH*
The laughter far outweighed the tears. In fact, I might not have cried at all. I was definitely on the verge of tears when I asked Mac for a professional consult about a toenail that I thought might be trying to pack its bags and leave me (answer: yes it will be leaving. As ugly as it is, I’m hoping it goes sooner rather than later. Definitely no pictures.)
How about you tell me what you want to know and then I can do a better post? Deal?
