Silver Falls State Park

When my mom and sister came into town, we made a day trip to Silver Falls State Park, a place I haven't visited since June 2012. Last time I visited, it was raining, so it was lovely to be there on a day where the sun was shining and the crowds were sparse.

The trail of ten waterfalls was magnificent, and it made for a beautiful day on the trail. The drive into Silverton was rolling with pastures and farms, and the sun shining over them made it feel like a magical fairy land.

We spent all afternoon wandering the ten miles. I hadn't done a ten mile hike in quite some time, and at one point I mentioned aloud that my feet hurt.
My sister Courtney was shocked by this. "What?!" she said, "but you hiked 2,000 miles last summer!!"
"Yeah," I replied, "and my feet hurt then, too!!"

Here are some shots of my favorite falls along the trail.

South Falls

Double Falls

Upper North Falls

Lower South Falls

If you live near Portland or Silverton, Silver Falls State Park isn't to be missed!

Finding a Workout Routine

I am the worst about workouts. I hate them. I hate making time for them, I hate feeling slow and sluggish during them, and I hate feeling guilty when I don't do them. The only thing I really love about workouts is finishing them and feeling GREAT. But sometimes even that isn't enough motivation to make me want to stick with a routine.

The thing I loved about the PCT was the effortless ease in which I got to workout every day. Wait. Let me rephrase that. The PCT was not "effortless" nor "easy." It was, however, routine. And routines are the hardest part of workouts. On the PCT I never had to think about it. I never had that battle in my head - "am I too tired to workout today? Should I skip it?" Because I didn't have a choice - we walked 15-25 miles every day, without fail. There was no such thing as skipping it. But even that was a magical thing - the key to any successful workout is making it part of your daily routine, so you don't have to fight that inner battle with yourself. You just DO it.

In that respect, the PCT was the best workout ever. I just walked. Easy (or hard) as that. I could eat whatever I liked (in fact, as MUCH as I liked) and still felt amazing. I spent five months in the best shape of my life and never once had to think about working out or counting calories.

The problem was, it did a number on my body. Though I was incredibly fortunate not to suffer any true injuries on trail, I began to suffer intense knee pain once I was off trail. For the first few months back in the real world, I could barely walk without limping. Going up and down stairs was particularly difficult. I'm sure I looked like an old woman clutching Tanner's arm in pain every time I went down a flight. Even attempting a workout routine at that time seemed unfathomable.

One year later, my knees are better, but I can still feel the lingering ache every time I work them too hard. I have grown lapse in my workouts and have had to start the process all over again. I miss feeling strong and fit almost as much as I hate going for a run.

I have tried a few different routines, trying to find one that works for me. I'm terrible at making up my own system, so I tend to gravitate towards DVDs or phone apps to help me along. In the past, the only one I found to be effective was P90X, which I loved and hated all at once. Damn you, Tony Horton. Your workouts hurt. But they also made me feel like I was actually accomplishing something, even on day one.

I have also utilized the app 7 minute workout (which I tend to do three times in a row so it's more like a 21 minute workout) and the app Yoga Studio, which has some great options (beginner, intermediate, advanced) and lengths of classes (15 min, 30 min, 60 min) to let you enjoy yoga in your own home.

At the end of April I finally sucked it up and made myself stick to a routine. As soon as I get home I change into workout clothes so I don't have time to sit down or pour myself a bowl of cereal. I change up my routines, varying between: one of the P90X workouts, running on the trail behind my apartment, going for a swim, doing the 7 (21) minute workout, a bike ride, or a yoga workout.

I'm in week three now and happy to say that I've been managing five workouts a week (I get really lazy on the weekends.) I'm not sure if it's doing any good, but I certainly feel sore each day, so I guess that's a good sign.

At any rate, I'm always on the lookout for new routines to keep me from getting bored.

What kinds of workouts do you enjoy? Do you utilize DVD routines, gyms, or phone apps? Do you have any favorites you'd love to recommend?

The Ice Cream Escapade

Today I'm going to tell you a little story.
This is the story of how I shipped my sister ice cream for her birthday.

First, a little backstory:

If you've ever been to Portland and had a craving for ice cream, you've probably found yourself at a little place called Salt and Straw. It's a local shop full of amazing and unique flavors, densely packed with butterfat and so delicious that once you eat there, Ben & Jerry's just doesn't cut it anymore. You find yourself choosing between flavors such as Strawberry Balsamic and Cracked Black Pepper. Or Coffee and Bourbon. Or Arbequina Olive Oil, which (yes) tastes like olive oil... strange and strangely delicious. Or my personal favorite, Pear and Blue Cheese. 

Then, each month they come out with new, limited-edition flavors such as Lumberjack Stack, full of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup. Or Cheesy Apple Pie during Thanksgiving. Or Spicy Monkey Banana Walnut, which tastes like a spicy banana bread.

Whenever I have guests in town, Salt and Straw is inevitably one of the places we frequent. When my mom and sister were in town in April, we went no less than four times in a week. It may have been five. Either way, it was worth it. And when they left, I had the spark of an idea of how to send a little bit of Portland back to North Carolina...

And so, once upon a time, last Wednesday, I had the brilliant idea to surprise my sister with Salt and Straw ice cream for her birthday. I discovered that Salt and Straw 2-day ships ice cream anywhere in the country, so I picked out five heavenly flavors for her to enjoy and submitted the order, grinning with glee.

Two days later, it's Friday and my tracking information shows everything moving along without a hitch. The ice cream is set to be delivered by the end of the day, and Courtney had all Friday off work. Perfect. I made sure she would be home to receive it, but I didn't tell her the real reason why this was important. ("Someone might steal it!" *cough* Oh... and it will melt. *cough*)

Meanwhile, I get off work and head home. It's 5:00pm on my coast and 8:00pm on hers. Apparently the package still hasn't arrived, so I check on the tracking information again. And this is what I see:

Tracking showed that this had been updated at 7:44pm EST, when they tried to deliver it and the apartment number on the address was either "missing or incorrect."

Naturally, I freaked a little. I called Courtney, who confirmed the address I had used was correct, and then I called UPS. I had to navigate through a series of automated prompts, including reading off a string of 18 digits in my tracking number three times before the system stopped telling me, "I'M SORRY I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND YOU."

Finally the telephone-bot seemed to be as disgruntled with me and I was with it, because it finally offered, "say agent to get live help."

"AGENT!"

To my surprise, I was quickly speaking with a live human who was incredibly polite and helpful. As I spend most of my day on the phones with callers and companies, I know how incredibly life changing it is to speak to a friendly, helpful person on the phone. (And I quickly kicked into my own happy-friendly caller mode, too. I know I hate it when I get angry callers on the phone, so I've learned to be incredibly patient in frustrating situations.)

"I need to update the shipping address on a package," I said.

In seconds he had my order pulled up and verified the correct apartment information with me. Apparently when it was originally shipped, the apartment number had been mistakenly omitted, despite that my receipt showed the correct address.

"Let me speak with the dispatcher and get this information updated for you," he said.

I bit my knuckles, pacing the room. A few minutes on hold, and he was back.

"Okay, the address has been updated. The package will be redelivered first thing Monday, estimated delivery time 10am."
"Oh," I said, trying very carefully to stay cheerful and not freak out. "Thank you so much! Except... it's ice cream."
"It's ice cream?"
"Er... yes."
"The package is ice cream?"
"Yes. I'm really sorry. I don't want it to melt. Is there any way she can pick it up today?"
He sounded distressed. "I'm not sure... it's after 8pm and our service centers are closed for the weekend."

Of all the luck. I was still pacing wildly around the room. Things were looking very grim. I was making contingency plans in my head, but the whole time I was fearing that all my work would end up a soggy puddle in the back of a UPS warehouse.

"Let me see what I can do," the helpful gentleman told me, and put me back on hold.

I had very slim hopes, since I doubted anyone was still open. I felt horrible for being THAT customer who calls at 8pm on a Friday night trying to get help from some poor UPS worker who just wants to go home. I was wearing holes in the carpet, the hold music whining in my ear.

A minute later, he was back.

"Good news! They're going to keep your package at one of the customer care centers. The driver is going to stay open until 9:00pm just for her. Can she make it before then?"
I checked my clock. 8:35pm in North Carolina.
"Wonderful!" I freaked. "I'll send her right now! Thank you!"
He gave me the address and I hung up, immediately dialing Courtney.
"Oh, heeeey," she said, "I'm just going to dinner."
"NO!" I cried, "you have to go to the UPS store and pick up your package!"
"What, now?"
"Yes, now! I can't tell you why, you just have to go now. It's important. They're staying open just for you."
"But it's across town..."
"No, he said it was 8 miles away from you. Google Maps says it will take 15 minutes to get there and you have to make it by 9:00!"
"But we have dinner reservations..."
"I'm sorry," I said, "I promise it's worth it!"
"Ok, fine. Brian's with me. We'll go right now."
"And you have to bring ID with your name and address," I remembered.
"But my ID doesn't have my current address... I just moved here."
I groaned. "Do you have mail, or something with your address on it?"
"Yeah... maybe. But I'll have to go home and get it."
8:40pm.
"HURRY YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES."

I sent her the address, and while she worked on getting to the UPS warehouse in time, I paced the room, checking the clock every few seconds and staring at my phone.

8:45pm.
8:50pm.
8:55pm.

Meanwhile, Courtney and Brian are in the car, driving through the dark to a lonely road in the middle of nowhere.
"I wonder why I have to pick it up today?" Courtney wondered.
"Maybe it's alive," her friend Brian suggested. "Maybe it's a fish."
"Maybe it's a puppy!"
They ended up at an abandoned warehouse covered in UPS trucks and no sign of an entrance. Two men are standing outside, and they nervously approached.
"Where's the door?"
"It's closed," they told her.
"But I need to get a package."
"Sorry, it's closed."
"They're telling me it's closed," she texted me.
"No! They said they're staying open for you!" I frantically texted back.
8:57pm.
"Where's the door?" Courtney asked the men again.
"It's closed," they repeated, "but it's around the side, feel free to check."
They drove around to the other side, and as Courtney got out, she saw a man walking toward the packing lot.
"You here for your package?" he asked her.
"Yes!" she said.
A moment later he re-emerged with the box in question. The one currently causing me so much stress on the opposite coast.
"This must be some really good ice cream!" he said.
"It's ice cream?!" Courtney said.
"Oh... oops. Was it supposed to be a surprise?"
"It's my birthday present!" she said, and then saw the label. "Salt and Straw!!!"
A moment later, Courtney phoned me with the whole story, much to my relived delight.
"You got me ice cream!!" she cried. "And I thought for sure it was a puppy!"

And that is the story of how I almost got my sister a puddle of sugar for her birthday.

The end. :)

P.S. - the flavors are: Almond Brittle with Salted Ganache, Cinnamon Snickerdoodle, Arbequina Olive Oil, Strawberry Honey Balsamic with Cracked Black Pepper, and Stumptown Coffee & Burnside Bourbon.

Duo Lingo

I took French all through high school and college, but somewhere along the way I stopped practicing and life took over. It's hard to keep speaking another language when you live in a country that doesn't require you know anything but English. Spanish is your next best bet as far as practical application, but French? Hardly anyone speaks French here. (At least, not in North Carolina or Oregon.) So it's difficult to get any decent practice in.

That being said, I completely forgot about the language until my trip to hike around Mont Blanc last summer. I spent two weeks immersed in French, Swiss, and Italian culture, and it was glorious. It's amazing to visit a place where English is not the primary language, for it knocks some reality into you. Everyone I met spoke two, three, four languages with perfect ease and beauty, the syllables like music to my ears. I wanted every part of it. I wanted to understand these languages, to turn the words over in my mind and savor them. I wanted to taste them on my tongue like cinnamon.

I latched on to every word my guides said. Though they spoke perfect English, I was fascinated by their beautiful French accents, and as they taught us more and more about the culture, the landscape, and the history of the area, I tried to commit it all to memory. I listened to them as they spoke French, delighted when verbs, conjugations, and phrases resurfaced in my memory, like interlocking puzzle pieces.

I was told my accent was good, that I remembered the language well. When my guide quizzed us about the names of the ranges and glaciers around us, I repeated back the beautiful names:
"Col des Grandes Jorasses." 
"Mer de Glace" 
"Aiguille du Midi."

And with each new thing I discovered, I wanted to learn French even more. I came home with a renewed desire to speak the language. I looked for classes and books and materials. I looked for simple ways to practice that would fit into my every day life.

What I found was a cute, free iPhone app called DuoLingo. It reminds me of a simpler, cheaper Rosetta Stone, by throwing you directly into the language and helping you to learn it piece by piece. You are given prompts to translate phrases to English, to speak them in French, to type English phrases in French, and to match English words to French words. You answer questions in a series of lessons, building on what you've already learned. It also makes it a game, so you lose "hearts" every time you get an answer wrong, and if you lose all your hearts, you have to do the lesson again. You gain "points" as you go, and you can connect with friends through the app or battle against a "bot" to see how you are progressing in comparison to them.

Of course, there are a variety of languages offered, not just French. And if you are already well versed in a language, you can test out of the easier lessons and jump into the more advanced ones. It's fun and oddly addicting to "play" at learning a language.

So if you have been thinking about brushing up on a language (or learning a new one! Portuguese, anyone?) check out DuoLingo. It's not without it's faults (sometimes its lack of explanation of grammar rules can be frustrating) but it's certainly a fun way to spend some down time on your phone - and you'll learn more than by hanging out on Facebook all day. Win win!