Month: April 2015

Lobsterfest VI

Chevy Chase, MD

April 25, 2015

 

As Sarah W. pointed out at the 6th Annual LobsterFest, the only people who have annual birthday parties anymore are kids under 10 and grandparents over 90.  And Martha.

When I was a kid I had homemade birthday parties.  My mom would make a cake.  My brother would do a magic show.  There would be a bug hunt in the lawn.  As a goodie bag, you could take your bugs home with you.  As we got older there might be some wiffle ball in the front lawn.  It was a home run if you could hit it onto our neighbor Krish’s roof.  Then on the actual day of my birthday my mom would ask me what I wanted to have for dinner. Lobster!

My great-grandmother Martha Palonen (the Finnish one) lived in Gloucester, MA, a fishing town north of Boston that must be one of the lobster capitals of the world.  Here we could buy lobsters fresh off the fishing boat and boil them ourselves.

When I moved back to DC in 2008 to work at the NIH, my parents had just bought a second home in Shepherdstown, WV and were in a habit of hosting parties up there.  We also discovered that there was a nice little 5k race up there that supported the local Potomac Audubon Society that was held around the time of my birthday.  Race for the Birds + lobsters at Shepherdstown + friends and family = the initiation of Lobsterfest I for my 28th birthday.

Last January my parents’ house at Shepherdstown burned to the ground during a fire of unknown causes.  My parents were home in Chevy Chase, no one was hurt, but it was devastating for my parents.  My father’s massive library of books was in the basement.  That year we had no Lobsterfest, just a small family dinner.

But my parents have been rebuilding the house and it was hoped that it would be ready in time for LobsterFest VI.  But as we got close to the date, we realized that LobsterFest in Shepherdstown was not going to be a reality this year.  My mom made some peeps about using neighbors’ toilets, but I summarily rejected these.

It was thought that we would still go up for Race for the Birds.  This year R4B was even expanding into a 15k trail race option.  But I had been under the weather ever since returning from Boston at the start of the week puking (I didn’t even run the Marathon and I was still booting!).

So this year ended up being kind of LobsterFest Lite.  Many of my friends have been to previous LobsterFests and know how much fun the ‘real’ version can be.  This time, the cold rainy weather didn’t cooperate and we had to eat inside, forego tennis and excursions, etc.  We kept invoking the Passover mantra of: Next Year….In Shepherdstown.

But we had a wonderful turnout of family and friends from work, running, and childhood.  My brother Fred and him family came all the way down from Vermont.  ‘Cookie’ Jen also won big points for driving all the way from Ashburn to deliver her treats even though she didn’t feel well enough to stay.  The lobsters were absolutely delicious (I ate 2).  The croquet was fierce until the weather turned.  Fearless bug hunters braved the rain (Fred and Summer won for greatest diversity of bug, Savannah and I won for prettiest bug — as prizes I gave out the 4-leaf and 5-leaf clovers I had found that day clearing sticks from the croquet lawn). As the greatest single mark of success of LobsterFest Lite, we cleared out all of my parents’ bottles of red wine in the cellar.

 

 

 

Bull Run in Quotes in Reverse Chronological Order

2 Days After Finishing Bull Run Run

‘So Aaron, do you know why I keep running ultras, even though they’re just bouts of prolonged misery that drain the life out of my soul?’

Aaron swiveled his chair around but did not say anything.  I think I’ve mentioned before that Aaron does not like guessing games.

‘Because they’re the best possible way to prepare for a marathon.  After suffering through an ultra, a marathon feels like a breezy walk in the park.  After Holiday Lake, I felt like I was running on air at Rock ‘n’ Roll.’

‘That’s very sad.’

‘It’s kind of like how flying to Atlanta feels like a tiny puddle jump after Australia.’

Aaron made a sad face.

‘No, I’m serious.  I thought about giving up ultras and just running road races.  But ultra running teaches me how to shove gels down my throat even when it’s the last thing on earth I want to do.  It teaches me how to cruise through muscle twinges, knowing that they’re likely to pass.  Knowing how to do that does way more for my marathon performance than mile repeats or 80-mile training weeks could ever do.’

After two days of listening to me wrestle with the philosophical question of whether I should continue to run ultras, a question that seemed to rattle the essence of my identity as a runner who runs for fun, Aaron was too exhausted to offer any further response.

‘No, bear, this is good!  I’ve figured out how to reconcile ultra running with not being masochistic.  I’m suffering for a tightly defined purpose — it works!’

~            ~             ~

1 Day After Finishing Bull Run

‘Every runner out there has their own personal challenge.  Yours just happens to be your stomach.’  Aaron tried his best to put my struggles in perspective.

‘My challenge sucks!  Can I trade it in for a different one?’

~            ~             ~

1 Hour After Finishing Bull Run

‘I set a PR!’

‘Oh wow!’

‘Puke Record!  Seven spews!’

~            ~             ~

Mile 49 of Bull Run

‘Come on, run with us the last mile!’  A couple guys passed me very cheerfully.

‘Uh, no, I’ve been puking for the last couple hours.  If I go any faster I’ll puke.’

‘Yay!  We love puke!  We want to see you puke!’

~            ~             ~

Mile 45 of Bull Run

‘Hey, girl!  How you doin’?’  Some guys were sitting on a hill in the sunshine on the other side of the Marina aid station.

I glanced at them.  And then vomited three times on my right Montrail shoe.

‘Whoa, that’s the first time a girl has ever responded to me that way!’

~            ~             ~

Mile 36 of Bull Run

‘Yay, Boots!’

‘Martha!’

Gag reflex.  Followed by my first puke of the day.

‘Ooh, it’s okay, Martha.  You’ve got this!’

~            ~             ~

Mile 35 of Bull Run

‘Julian, I’m going to throw up.  Not now, but soon.’

‘No, you’ll be fine, you’ll be totally fine.’  If there was ever anyone who could convince me that everything would be fine, it was Julian J.  But I knew what was lurking in my stomach.  I had starting gagging about an hour prior, and the illness was steadily creeping upward.

‘It’s just a matter of time.’

~            ~             ~

Mile 29 of Bull Run

‘Kathleen, just let me know if I’m bugging you.’  I had promised Aaron I would go slowly for at least the first 38 miles.  Kathleen was holding a very nice steady pace and it seemed wise to duck in behind her.  We had been running most of the Hemlock-to-Fountainhead together, chatting breezily.  But my loquaciousness had gotten under her skin, and I was trying to be as quiet as I could on the White Loop.

‘Just so you know, Kathleen, if you ever need me to talk less, just go ahead and say so.  I will not be offended.’

~            ~             ~

Mile 1 of Bull Run

‘Aaron there is something seriously wrong with my bladder.  It’s flopping all around.  Can you fix it?’

Aaron fumbled with my pack while we slowed our trot.  ‘Is that better?’

‘Ooh, yeah, that’s much better.  I think it wasn’t fully in.  Can you just try to shove it in a little deeper?’  Pause.  ‘Ha!  That’s What She Said!’

Keith chortled.