Orcas Island Brain Dump

This post is just a brain dump. A technique I hardly use in my own writing and certainly rarely share. Still, I hope you can follow my train of thought and put it all together. I was going to clean it up myself, but sometimes we just need to share our messes.

Four days until Orcas and the feelings are up, down and all over the place. Yesterday, thoughts of Orcas came and went, but mostly in the way of logistics. What ferry should we take? Will we get to the island in time for packet pick-up? Will we arrive in time for spaghetti dinner? When should I look at the packing list? Should I bring a book? What kind of cookies should I make? Should I pack my own peanut butter?

Today thoughts of Orcas came and went again. Am I prepared? I ran up a steep hill that was possibly an eighth of a mile if that and I was winded, tired, miserable. How can I climb 4,000 feet if I can’t even handle this little hill? On the other hand I won’t be running up the Orcas hills at the unmentionable pace I was running today.

I have shared many times that over the past six months I have gained about ten pounds. I am unhappy about this in many ways, but in regards to Orcas, I am even more stressed. A long time ago someone had said every extra pound counts, and not in a good way, when climbing Orcas. Even more recently than that someone had said that you could equate being ten pounds over your normal weight as carrying a bowling ball up Orcas. I took that comment and mulled it over and gained another five pounds. Now I will be carrying a bowling ball and an average size cat with me on my Orcas adventure.  I actually had a blog in mind which would poke fun at this very topic, maybe 1200 words instead of three sentences; however I am in a little trouble with my coach about my self-deprecating humor, so I’ll leave it for another time.

Someone asked me recently if I ever had good thoughts about Orcas, and yes, yes I do. I recently ran Capitol Peak in Olympia with four friends. We did a lot of hills and practiced some different techniques on the hills like side-stepping, walking backwards and so on. There was a lot of laughter and some serious tears (on my part). When I started crying my friend Lori immediately joined me, which was pretty touching, though I never managed to articulate that to her. At some point in our delirium we imagined that we would turn a corner and find out the trail we were on was actually connected to the back lot of a Starbucks. We had almost convinced ourselves of it, too. The run which we predicted to be ten miles and three hours turned out to be five hours and 14 miles long. There was sideways rain, high, howling winds and a little run-in with the law. Really. The conversation was often flowing and we managed to take care of each other when needed. These ladies are a lot of fun and I get to run with some of them again at Orcas, which is a gift. So yes, I have some good thoughts about Orcas.

I also have high hopes about Orcas because this beautiful thing usually happens to me around mile eleven or twelve of a long distance run –a good old fashioned case of the giggles. And it happens to everyone I have ever run with. And whatever it is that we found so hilarious at mile 12 can never be created off the trails or roads. When reflecting on it the only thing I can usually say is the old “You had to be there,” and if you haven’t been there yet, I hope someday you will.

I have said it before, but no one knows when they will say that very thing that you will hold onto. They don’t know when they will inspire you and when they won’t even penetrate that lovely brain of yours. My friend Nancy unknowingly lifted me up with a text yesterday that said “I am so not going to rock this race. But I have a feeling that there will be laughter and an occasional swear word. It will be awesome.”

Am I ready for Orcas? I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, but I’m doing it. Four days. Let’s go!