Meet The Dirty Girls

Friday, after dropping Nora Jane off at school, I drove to McCormick Forest in Gig Harbor where I met up with The Dirty Girls.  The Dirty Girls are a group of women who like running, trails, and mud.  I had heard about this running group from the Route 16 Running Store and thought they sounded like my kinda people.

By the time I arrived at the parking area, however, the girls had already set out. So, not sure which trail to take, I opted for the one "to the right."  I'm not sure why, I guess it just looked "more open."  Just a short distance ahead, I encountered the first group of Dirty Girls, complete with the official "Dirty Dog," a Doberman decked out in a jacket to keep warm.  These ladies referred to themselves as "the slow group" and I was about to settle in with them when a second group, aka the faster paced group, met up with us via another trail.  Someone called out, "this is Sonja,  a new girl!"  I felt like a kid, on my first day at  a new elementary school.  But these girls, too, were all smiles.  So, I said hi and fell in with them.  

So, just who are The Dirty Girls?

Well, Gwen and Nicole seemed to be the co-leaders of the pack, or, at least, co-navigators.  Gwen, with braids bouncing off her shoulders, was up front calling out directions as she lead us through the woods,  warning us of upcoming dangers (i.e. roots, rocks) on the trail.  Nicole did the same, but from the rear.  She seemed quieter than Gwen, but mentioned that she's recovering from a kidney infection and in her own words,  was "feeling the burn."  Well, no wonder!  

In the middle, were Rebecca and Meredith, who also is recovering from kidney surgery.  So when I mentioned that I, too, am trying to "get back into shape," they said I had come to the right place.  And I think they were right.  I don't know the last time I found myself around such positive,  encouraging women.  Several times during the run, we passed the first group and they all cheered each other on, even high-fiving as we shared the trail on a hill.  

And there was good conversation;  except up one big hill, then it got pretty quiet.   Meredith  said they mostly talk about food, sex, and something else.....I don't know why I can't remember the third one. Something about memory loss, perhaps?  But, they talked about everything:  food, husbands, injuries, physical therapy exercises, piriformis pain.  Piriformis pain!   I felt like I was home...

So, as you can see, I am so glad  I made the drive to Gig Harbor.  I am so glad I didn't just go run Point Defiance, like usual.  Because it was such a great morning, even though, near the end of our run, Rebecca said to me, "Can you slow down?"  and then turned to Meredith and asked, "Can you lead?" 

Oops!  


Hopefully they won't hold that against me, though, because I CAN'T WAIT to run with them again.  I mean Meredith said she likes coffee, running, and wine!  We are DEFINITELY gonna be friends!  :)  

Maybe next time we'll even encounter some mud, or that VERY BIG PUDDLE I heard all about.  


xoxo--
Sonja

Outta the Mouths of Babes.... I Mean Nora Jane

Dinner--Last Night

Nora:  "Mom, can I have more broccoli?"

Me:  Mouth agape, unable to comment, let alone remind her that it's may I have more broccoli?

Me again:   I simply nod.

Happy Birthday Big Lar!

When my husband was gone, a few weeks ago, Nora and I had to come up with creative ways to entertain ourselves, in his absence.  

Luckily, for us,  I received an email from my High School BFF (although I still consider her my BFF) complete with photos of her Dad's recent birthday party.  I always loved this man.  Being Italian, he liked to joke, sing, drink wine, walk around the house in his shorts and black socks, and invade my VERY BIG SPACE with lots of hugs--TIGHT hugs. He was funny, kind and, ya, he  could scare the crap outta me when needed.   

The Birthday Boy:  Not ONE BIT Scary :)

The real deal:  Look at those meatballs! Yum!

But think about it.  I was a teenage kid from a totally dysfunctional family dealing with a lot of stress.  And we were Lutherans!  Of Nordic descent!  Which explains my Big Space Issue.   

Despite my afore mentioned description, Big Lar could also seem quiet,  stern.  Now, having played the parent card myself, I can guess he was probably just tired.  He worked all day as a Very Important Person at a Very Important Company, and he commuted to and from his Very Important Job (I just love saying this)  by ferry, making his long days even longer.  Not to mention,  by the time I met him, he'd already raised 4 other kids:  putting them through college and getting them settled into their careers and marriages.  So I'm sure he was just too damn tired for any of our teenage tomfoolery.  

When he came home from work tired and hungry,  all he wanted was a kiss from his wife, a hot plate of pasta, a chair where he could put his feet up and not be bothered for a few quiet hours.  Or wait, was this MY dad?  (minus the wife, and of course my dad would've called them Noodles)  At any rate, he didn't want to have to deal with all the troubles we got into.

I don't know how this man felt about me then, but because he and his wife so graciously accepted me into their home and family during my teenage years and put up with all the shenanigans his daughter and I got involved in, I hope he knows how grateful I am for that.  Not that we were bad girls, by ANY stretch of the imagination.  But girls, as I have come to learn, can be emotional and tiresome and pains in the ass.  So, because Big Lar and his wife loved and comforted me, when my family was failing in that area, I wanted to take the time now to wish him a Very Happy Birthday and to let him know that those days I spent with them will always be special and important to me.  

So that's just what Nora and I did:  We had a Happy Birthday Larry Party.  

There was music:  The Italian Mambo Station, provided by Pandora

There was a pasta dinner; which I would NEVER feed to him!  I mean sauce from a jar!  Egads!  I did, however, throw in some fresh onions, and lots of garlic, and something green, apparently.  

Not even close to The Real Deal

And since Dave was gone and NJ eats like a bird,  (especially at dinner) we skipped the salad and opted for sliced cukes and baby carrots.  

And, of course, there was the wine!  

Now Jr. did not have wine, obviously.  She only looks like she did.  

Like I said:  Eats Like A Bird!

And I only had one glass.  Yet,  due to Nora's photography skills (or lack thereof) I only look intoxicated!

First Try at "Capturing the Moment"

Second Try....

I haven't seen Big Lar in a number of years, but keep up with him via my friend,  and I think of he and his wife, D-, often.  Just as Lar was the father figure I needed back then, D-was really my mom.  In fact, she probably has no idea just how influential she was to me.  I can't count the times, I have asked myself over the last four or five years, as the mother of a teenage girl, "WWDD?"  I should probably write to her and thank her.  Thank her for loving me.  Thank her for teaching me.   Thank her for letting me come over to her house after school EVERY DAY and watch Little House on the Prairie, while eating her popcorn.    And Thank her and Lar for all the crap that her daughter we did back then.   

But that will have to wait!  Ha!  Because this is Big Lar's Post:)  

So Happy Birthday Big Lar from Two Stone Cold Sober Nordic and Not-So-Lutheran-Anymore Girls!  

SALUT!

And, yes, somehow I STILL look slightly tipsy!  

xoxoxo
Son

P.S.  I should thank Edye for letting me Steal the photos of Big Lar and his lovely pasta dinner.  I probably should have asked first, but since my "blog" seems more like an online diary and I only have five followers (ha) I figured she wouldn't mind.  Thanks E- :)

Back in the Race

I am pleased to announce that I am "unofficially" off the injured list.

Didn't know I was injured?  Yep, for about a YEAR now.  A YEAR!  Or at least it will be November 4th.  So, close enough.  

But those days of achy feet due to plantar fascitis and achilles tendonitis are over forever!  (I hope)  And to prove it, I even "raced" last Sunday.  And when I say raced, I mean I started a race with a group of silly people all dressed in costumes, and proceeded to run a total of 12 Kilometers through the trails of Port Gamble, Washington.  Okay, I did walk a little.  But only up some of the BIG hills.  I mean, it had been a year!  

But I don't even care, because Sunday was the annual Spooky 12k trail run, (part of the Roots, Rock Trail Run Series) and it's one of my favorite races of the year.  And it didn't let me down this year:  it was wonderful!  The weather was beautiful! The leaves were beautiful!  The runners were beautiful, except the weird ones brave ones who actually dressed up in costume.  Heck, I even felt beautiful, even though all I'd done that morning was brush my teeth, put my hair in a pony tail, don my cap, and slap on some under eye concealer.  Some things simply cannot be omitted, even on race day.

And I felt good!  I was doing what I love, with people who love it as much as me.   The pain in my feet was minor and my very unused leg muscles were carrying me through the woods.  Until the kind folks at the last water stop said, "only one mile to go!"  

Now I should have known this, I've run this race many times before!   But on this day, at this point, after a year "off," I was feeling the burn and I was done.  Or ready to be done.  My 12K should have  been a 10k.  But, I trudged along.  Off the road, onto the single track trail, down the hill, across the creek, over the oh-so- slippery logs, back up the hill on the other side, across the "meadow" and through the finish chute.   

After I crossed the finish line, I hugged my husband, who had probably been thinking, "where in the HELL is she?  She should be here by NOW?" Then I grabbed a cup of orange Gatorade (YUK, I thought it was water), my banana, and my fresh, homemade pumpkin cookie, complete with cream cheese frosting, (yum!) and walked (slowly) to the car.

"What?  You don't wanna stick around for post race activities," asked my well trained husband.  "You might get a prize!"

I would have laughed at this, but I was too tired.  And prizes were not what this day was about.  This day was more about the journey than the time.  It was about gettin it done, and then going to Dad's house for waffles; which were delicious! Thanks Dad!

And thanks, as always, to my biggest fans, for coming out and supporting me even though my "journey" took longer than usual, and you had to entertain yourselves with books and DVDs in the van, because it was so cold outside.  I love you people!  

xoxoxo--- 

Speaking of Junior, she decided to run her own race:  The Kids' Spooky 1 Miler.  Unfortunately, I didn't get to see her and cheer her on, as her race took place after I had hit the trail.  But I hear she took off from the start line like a bat outta hell, hair flying wildly behind her.  She turned around at the mid-point, got tired, slowed to a jog, then a walk, only to be told by her Dad that a girl was coming up behind her!  Well this was the kick in the ass that she needed, apparently, because she turned and looked behind her to confirm this information, and then put it into gear to get up the hill and across the finish.

I'm so proud!