Flowered.

Today was M and my annual trip to Gethesmane Gardens.  In prior years, we have gone in the afternoon, when it was both hot and packed with people.  Of course, to make up for that, we always rewarded ourselves with a McDonald's ice cream cone.  This year, we decided to sacrifice the cone in favor of getting the worm instead.

Gethesmane does not officially open until 9:00 am.  Being early birds, we arrived at about 8:45 and there were already people in line checking out.  As our third trip, this time we had a better idea of what works for our little balconies.  For me, that meant one 40 quart bag of soil, and about three trays worth of both single and double impatiens and two other types of flowers that I've already forgotten their name.  (I always like to jokingly blame my mother for my flower ignorance -- since she knows flowers and I don't, I tell her she failed me as a mother.  In response, she sent me a flower guide last year.  Sadly, now I just have me to blame.  Although to be fair to me, she accidentally sent a tropical flower guide and say what you will about Chicago weather, it is not tropical.)

I love going to Gethesmane but I always get overwhelmed.  There are just so many pretty flowers.  We have learned that the best way to go is to pick a color theme and roll with it.  M went with white and coral.  I have a purple/pink/red/white thing going (which I recognize in writing it seems more like indecision than a theme).  Our cart was beautiful:

I like to think we gave other carts a complex.

I like everything about flower planting day except for carrying it all upstairs.  And, cleaning up my mess later as I always make a huge mess with the soil.  But, I think it is totally worth it:

Looky, there is a lake two blocks away.

It may be almost summer but it is also that fifth season: construction.

Plus, because I'm on the lowest floor, I feel an obligation of sorts to make my balcony pretty for the people walking by on the street.  Building pride and all for our red-headed stepchild of a building on an otherwise beautiful street.

"My" Dog.

I got Shelby when I was a third year in law school.  When I moved to Chicago and started working long hours, she made it clear that she was not a fan.  Despite going to doggy daycare every day, she ate my couch, she ate my clothes, she ate my rug.  After a lot of guilt and tears, I sent her to go live with in Colorado with my parents who were home more often and had another dog and two cats to keep her entertained.  It was a happy situation for everyone (at least once I got over missing my dog).

Hanging out on her "dog bed" with one of her cat friends.

While I call her my dog, she has lived with my parents for eight years now and is much more their dog than mine.  And, they love her and take great care of her.  They got her a kiddie pool so she go swimming and blow bubbles during the summer.  They take her to agility classes so she can play on the various pieces of equipment.    They let her turn their nice couch into a gigantic dog bed.

But, today I heard proof that she is definitely my dog.  There were factors before -- we both love the water, we both like hanging around upside down -- but today, I learned that much like me, she has arthritis and needs to shoot up regularly with an anti-inflammatory.  My mom had been worried about her but after she got the diagnosis, she laughed all the way home and how much that dog takes after me.

Arthritic dog needs the hot pad.

Goofy upside downward dog.

Aspen.

Gosh, I'm glad I didn't do a triathlon here.  That is STEEP.

After a long lull, I had some work travel this week: to Aspen.  In retrospect, almost all of my work travel has been to good places.  I've been to Singapore, NYC, San Fran and the Silicone Valley, and the OC among other places.  I think the "worst" place I have been is to Mankato, MN and even that was not awful.

Even though I lived in Colorado for four years and my immediate family is still there, I had never been to Aspen before. Not really a surprise you consider that I'm not a skier (or snowboarder) and Aspen is pretty much smack dab in the middle of the mountains, so a solid five or so hour drive from Boulder.  And another no-surprise statement: Aspen is a really lovely little town.  It looks like Hollywood's version of a quaint town, which in a lot of ways it is.

Since May is the mud season, Aspen was also pretty much a ghost town.  They did not get a lot of snow this year so the mountain shut down in early April.  Tourists will not start coming back until June for the Food & Wine Festival.  We were only there for one full day and spent most of that day in a conference room but I enjoyed it.  (I am pretty sure that the five lawyers involved in this deposition were the only people wearing suits, or even business casual, in the entire town.  We got A LOT of looks.) The town is cute and very walkable, the food was really good, the hotel was lovely (and so cheap thanks to being the off-season), and the surroundings were spectacular.  I even went running one morning.  It was a real insult to my ego that seems to think that because I did live in Colorado, I should still be acclimated.  Tell that to my lungs which strenuously objected to the 8,000 feet in elevation.

Bear-crow?  A lot of yards had these bear sculptures.  

The only negative to my trip was that it was weird to be in Colorado, especially at DIA, and not be going to see my family.  Unfortunately,

Napa.

After we left Lake Berryessa, it was time for the fun portion of our trip.  Enough with nature, bring on the wine!

Baby grapes.  One day, I might drink them!

First, we met my parents at our hotel in Napa, the Avia.  It was a really great property with beautiful rooms, fantastic location, and very helpful staff.  The concierge had set us up with therapeutic massages at a nearby spa.  After that, it was nap time until dinner.  We went to a place called the Rutherford Grill, which you could smell from down the road, and had a great dinner.  Because M and I never really adjusted to being on Pacific Time, we were in bed by 8:30.

On Monday, it was time for some wine touring.  My parents had arranged for a driver to take us to four vineyards.  It is a little tough to start tasting at 10:00 am but you gotta do what you gotta do.  Our first stop was Castello di Amorosa.

Castello di Amorosa -- moat and all, if you count pond scum as a moat.

It was completed only about five years ago by a man named Darryl.  We learned from our driver that once the castle was built, Darryl changed his name to Dario.  Unfortunately for him, he sounds like a Darryl and almost no one seems to want to call him Dario.  Everyone we talked to about it just laughed, shook their head, and concluded that he is an odd man.  You can conclude that on your own by realizing what an obsessive personality it must take to build your own replica castle with Italian-esque frescos.  We skipped the guided tour -- no need to hear about faux history -- and went straight to the tasting.  The wines there were overall delicious.

South tower of the castle, overlooking the vineyards

Family picture on the South Tower of the Castle

From there, we went to V. Sattui, which is another Darryl/Dario vineyard.  The tasting was much more crowded and less enjoyable but the grounds were fantastic with a deli on site.  Several people recommended that we have a picnic lunch there and that is just what we did.  Just beautiful . . . and delicious.

Because we were so efficient in our tastings, we had time to kill before the only scheduled tour we booked.  We ended up going to a place called Frank Family Vineyard where we did a tasting and then just enjoyed sitting out on their porch.

From there, it was on to Schramsberg.  This vineyard was the one that all of us were most anticipating -- it is a bubbly maker!  They store their wine in caves built into the mountain.  Wandering the caves was part of the tour as was a tasting in the caves.  Our tour guide was really great.  Interesting information and a very subtle saleswoman.  We bought everything she was selling -- including things she wasn't specifically trying to sell like her husband's restaurant (great little local chain of burger roadside diners called Gott's -- we liked it so much we went there for dinner and came back for breakfast) and therapeutic yoga -- including wine and a membership in their wine club.  For the next year at least, M and I will each being receiving four shipments of bubbles from the caves outside of Calistoga.

Bad picture of the tasting in the caves

On Tuesday, we considered driving over to the coast to a small national park called Point Reyes but I really just could not get in the car again.  This trip was the most I have driven in a very long time.  I don't put in this kind of mileage if you combine six months together normally.  Instead, we just strolled around downtown Napa, shopping, had lunch, did a wine and chocolate pairing at the place next door, got pedicures and read.  Just a very chill relaxing day.

On Wednesday, it was back to SFO and back to reality.

Triathlete.

Despite having no desire to go back to Lake Berryessa, we found ourselves there by 6:15 am on Sunday morning.  We were not trying to be there that early but as our third trip out there, we were much more efficient (read: I did not miss the turn for the first time) in our driving and packing.  After killing over an hour and a half, it was finally race time.

One of only three without a wetsuit and only girl in a bathing suit.

As you can see, I opted not to put on a wetsuit.  I've never swam in one and did not see why this morning should be my first time.  I figured even if the water was only 65, it should take me fifteen minutes to do my swim and that is manageable.  If anything, I thought it would motivate me to swim faster.  And, it was pretty true.  Per M, I was the fourth woman out of the water (of course, it helped that I self-seeded myself in the first wave.  I was the 25th person in the water).  I tried to sprint the last leg of the triangular course but my legs were pretty cold by then so it wasn't so much a sprint as just a bit faster.  Oh well.

From there, it was on to the bike.  

Just happy to have managed to clip in, 25 feet down, 15 miles to go.

My course was not nearly as long or as hilly as M's from the prior day but long enough and hilly enough to make me wonder how the hell she managed to do it.  Our rented bike had a speedometer on it.  I got up to 28 mph at one point -- easily the fastest and scariest I've ever gone on a bike.  All was good until the end when I had a bit of trouble unclipping and totally fell.  As it turns out, learning to ride a road bike on race weekend is not an ideal plan.  Live and learn. 

Ouch.  Road rash, two days later.

The run leg was never going to be my best leg and that was particularly true with my road rash but I did finish the course.  My first official full triathlon.

Can we please get the hell out of here now?

 And, I don't think it will be my last.  If at first you don't succeed (and I don't think I can call it a total success given the scab on my leg), tri tri again, right?

70.3

M is a half-Ironwoman! 

And, dear God, did she earn that.  There were no small amount of prayers and swears involved because Napa is HILL-Y.  I mean, damn.  It reminds me of my Colorado-driving days.  We drove the bike course on our way home and man, 56 miles is LONG.  And, that is in a car.  I don't know how she did it.  And, I don't know how once she did it, she got herself off that bike and ran a half-marathon.  As we kept saying, thanks to the layout of the course, it was more like running four 5K's than 13.1 miles straight.  Regardless of that mental trick, she swam 1.2 miles, biked 56 miles, and ran 13.1 miles for a grand total of 70.3.  Impressive, no?

We got there early so we spent probably 9 hours at that lake.  I have absolutely no desire to ever go back there.  Which is unfortunate since my little sprint is tomorrow.  Oh well.

T minus One.

Tomorrow morning at this time, we will be on a plane to Napa. San Francisco technically but whatever. It is already shaping up to be quite a trip.

M got a call from the place we are staying for the race yesterday. Neither of us were thrilled about it as it was -- Troop Beverly Hills-style camping in cabins -- but we were told it was the closest place to stay near the race site with running water so we went with it. It is so important to be close since you have to get up so early anyway. But, yesterday we learned that they do not have linens, towels, or pillows for us. $159/night and we need to stop at Target to buy sleeping bags and stuff? That's just great.

So, this morning, we have divided and hope to conquer. M is trying to fight their 72 hour cancellation policy on the grounds of new and important information. I have found us an alternative place to stay that is also not ideal but has linens. Either way, we will make it work.

And, of course, this trip is about as poorly timed work-wise as possible. Not quite as poorly as possible as neither of us have to cancel but man. We couldn't know six months ago that both of us would both be probably at our busiest in the last year right now. I know I'm coming back to probably straight 12 hours days for the rest of the month. Which means that I am going to try to enjoy these few days off as much as possible.

I am really, really, really looking forward to Sunday at about 10:00 am, when I should hopefully be a triathlete, having run the whole four miles and everything, and getting to see my parents who are coming out to witness and join in the fun. And, even more so looking forward to Sunday at 2:00 pm when we have massages scheduled. And, even MORE looking forward to Monday when we go wine touring.