little black journal

It was almost exactly a year ago that Shane came home one night and told me that he thought he wanted to run in a 5k race that would be taking place near our house in late October.  I raised my eyebrows when he told me this – I hadn’t seen Shane run for at least a couple of years.  He was in good shape from biking a lot that summer, but whenever I asked him to join me on jogs, he always told me that running ‘wasn’t really his thing’.  But he continued to talk about the 5k, and when he headed out the door for a training run, I thought he might be serious.  Then he came home and told me he couldn’t finish the 3-mile jog, and I began to have my doubts about whether or not he’d really follow through with this out-of-the-blue-interest.  Shame on me – my skepticism was put to rest when he finished the 5k Pumpkin Push race in late October with impressive speed.  Then he ran the 5k Turkey Trot in November.  And the Mercer Island 10k in March.  And the Kirkland Half Marathon in June.  Holy cow – this guy could run!  And then the marathon talk started.  I tried to be supportive, but I inwardly cringed at the pain I knew he would have to endure to train for and complete a 26.2-mile run.  I admit that I secretly hoped he would decide not to go through with it – I loved that he was dreaming big and aiming high, but I was also envisioning shin splints, sore muscles, and lost toenails.  Then in August he registered for the Portland Marathon, and he was officially committed.  So he ran.  And ran.  And I watched him hobble around the house after his 16-mile Saturday training runs, feeling sorry for his hurting body, but eventually letting my pride in him outweigh my concern.  Yes, this would be hard, but he was strong and driven and dead-set on finishing this thing.

This weekend was the weekend that all those months of training would pay off.  We arrived in Portland yesterday afternoon and enjoyed hanging around downtown with friends and family that had come in for the race.  The day ended with a carbo-loading session at a small Italian place in Northwest Portland.

We were up bright dark and early this morning to get Shane to the starting line before his 7 a.m. race time.  My mom and I dropped him off, I gave him a quick kiss for good luck, and then my man disappeared into a sea of runners.  He was on his way.  (I was on my way, too, to Stumptown Coffee for a latte and a scone.)  I had some anxiety about whether or not we’d be able to catch sight of him along the course, but we headed down toward the waterfront in hopes of finding him somewhere around mile 2.  And voila, a few minutes after claiming our spot on the sidewalk, there he was, running fast, smiling, hardly breaking a sweat.  He was off to an amazing start.  Then we saw him again as he looped back for mile 6, and he was slightly sweaty, maybe breathing a little harder, but he was still bookin’ it, and he still had that same happy look on his face.  I was relieved to see him doing so well.  But I also knew that he was facing a major hill right around mile 17, and that a lot of people had told him that mile 17 is also the same point in a marathon when your body really starts to give out, so we jumped in the car and headed across the river so that we could be there to cheer him on right at mile 17.5, as he was coming off the St. John’s Bridge.  We found a good vantage point to watch him approach, and I was ecstatic to see him still bookin’ it and still smiling when he came off that bridge less than three hours after his race had begun.  We cheered like crazy, I snapped photos like I was the paparazzi, and Brian jumped right in to run with him for a few minutes to offer some support.  I tried to run with him for a little while too, but even at mile 17.5, he was still too fast for me to keep up.

From there, we hopped back in the car and headed back across the river to catch Shane at the finish line.  We found a spot on a ledge where we could stand and watch the runners come in, we unrolled our ‘Run Shane Run’ signs, and held our breath.  Would he meet his time goal?

Of course he would.  Shane crossed the finish line with a stellar time of 3:58:44.  One minute less than the 4 hour time he was hoping for, and many minutes less than the 4 hour-15 minute time he was actually expecting.  He was beat, to say the least, but he was also so proud of himself and so thrilled with how the entire experience played out.  I am also quite proud, and sorry that I ever doubted that his body or mind could handle the challenge.  This man is a rock star!

This was one of those nothing-special but oh-so-good kind of  weekends.  No big happenings at the Schnell household, but I enjoyed the chance to hang out with friends yesterday and have a ‘me’-day today.  Shane had a late night/early morning at the office last night, so I decided to spend the morning being out-and-about, soaking in the beautiful day and letting him rest.  After church, I stopped by the Fremont Sunday market to do some wandering.  It had been awhile since I’d been to Fremont, and their Sunday street market is one of my favorites in Seattle.  I was tempted by all the home-baked and hand-stitched goodies, but I practiced restraint and walked out of there with nothing but a beautiful bouquet of fresh sunflowers.  Then I practiced indulgence when I came home and baked a batch of chocolate-dipped almond-cherry biscotti.  The rest of the day was pretty mundane, but productive – went for a run, cooked dinner, did laundry, savored a piece of the afore-mentioned biscotti…  Settling into the couch now for a little tea-time, and am going to keep my spirits high by pretending that tomorrow is NOT Monday.  How fleeting a good weekend can be…

So hard to believe that today was the last official day of summer…  The afternoon nearly slipped by us in a lazy haze of post-brunch football and naps, but around 4:00, I peeled myself from the couch, laced up my sneakers, and convinced Shane to join me on a short Sunday mini-adventure (yes, I use the word ‘adventure’ lightly).  I was itching to get out to enjoy the sun and see something new, so we headed toward Lake Washington in hopes of finding some kind of close-to-home new discovery.  There is a large community garden in Colman Park that I’d driven past a couple of times but never ventured into, so we decided to make that our destination.  And WOW.  The garden is tucked into the side of a hill, hidden from view of the lake by a large grove of trees, and as we came upon it, with the late sun just barely skimming the tops of the tallest stalks of flowers, I was enamored.  We spent nearly an hour wandering among the rows of bright pink and yellow dahlias, leafy lettuce, and hearty squash plants.  So many lovely colors and shapes and signs of life.  And it was nice to get out of the house to enjoy a leisurely stroll with Shane – it seems that lately, all of our time and energy for outdoor activities has been funneled toward jogging (with Shane training for the marathon and me trying to work off those lattes and scones that I love so much), and so I’d forgotten just how nice it feels to be able to go outside and stop to smell the roses – literally.  It’s too bad that we only just discovered this place, as things are starting to die down for the Fall and Winter, but I’ll look forward to seeing what kinds of new growth and colors Spring will bring to the garden.

We ended our day-date by sitting for awhile down near the lake, enjoying the sound of the water lapping over the rocks at the shore and the view of Mount Rainier in the distance.  It was one of those very perfect Seattle kind of afternoons – a lovely way to bid farewell to what has been an amazing summer.

Today was a good great day – a totally open bonus day to spend however I chose.  Being that cafe-sitting is one of my most favorite pastimes, I started my day with a latte at a new cafe I’ve been wanting to check out – Citizen in Lower Queen Anne.  Good coffee, cool space, but a little too restaurant-y for someone like me, who likes to feel free to linger over a latte for an hour+ without any pressure to buy something else.  I cut my stay a little short to give my table up to the breakfast-ers who were filing in.  They did have a pretty amazing-looking crepe menu, though, so I’ll head back next time I’m in the mood for a solid brunch.

Post-coffee, I headed home and picked up Shane for an 11:10 showing of 500 Days of Summer.  Did you know that movie tickets are 6 bucks before noon?  Score!  Plus, I showed up to the theater with snacks in my purse, so I was an exceptionally cheap date this morning.  The movie was really good – smartly written and well-acted with a quirky/artsy vibe to it.  Loved it.  A post-movie lunch at Panera, a round of shoe shopping to find a much-needed new pair of running shoes, and I was somehow tuckered out from this wonderfully mellow morning.  And Lord knows that my ‘perfect’ day absolutely includes a nap, and so I spent an hour on the couch dozing while Shane watched the Giants game, waking briefly for each of Uribe’s home runs (Shane just couldn’t silence his excitement).  Refreshed, I took advantage of a momentary break in the rain to get out for short run to break in my new running shoes.  An impressively good dinner of miscellaneous items we needed to use up from the fridge, a home pedicure (on the off chance that I get to bare my feet in sandals at least one more time before the chill of Fall sets in), and I’m now settling into the couch for the evening with my cup of ginger peach tea and my book.  Perfection.

I had a lovely last couple of days in San Francisco.  I cafe-hopped while Shane attended his conference, I caught up with a few more old friends, and I took in the sights, smells, and tastes of this city that I am loving more and more with each new visit.  The highlights:

A stroll through Chinatown, in all its vibrancy:

Happy hour at ‘B’ in Yerba Buena.  So good to sit in the sunshine, sip Persecco, and slurp up dollar oysters.  Heaven:

Morning coffee at Four Barrell in the Mission.  The best latte I had all week:

And a quick whirl through the SF MOMA, to take in Dubuffet, Motherwell, and Giacometti:

Again, Lovely.

When Shane told me last month that he’d been given the opportunity to spend a few days in San Francisco for a work-related conference, I jumped at the chance to tag along, to spend some quality time with my husband, but also snag a little time to myself in one of my most favorite cities.  We flew in on Saturday morning, got settled at our hotel room, and then met up with a couple of old friends who had come into the city for the day to hang out and catch up with us.  Marco is known for making every little outing an ‘adventure’, and indeed, our 8-hour whirlwind tour of 5 different San Francisco bars and restaurants turned out to be an afternoon/evening/night to remember.  We started with drinks at the Gold Dust Lounge – a little saloon-type bar right near Union Square.  It happened to be unusually hot in San Francisco that day, and the bar was pretty toasty inside, so as the beads of sweat began to drip down our foreheads, we decided to call it a day at that place and head out in search of someplace with outdoor seating.  We ended up at Delfina pizzeria in the Mission District and snagged a nice little sidewalk table.  We ordered a couple of pizzas and some wine, and settled into our chairs to enjoy a perfect city evening with perfect food and great friends.  The crostini with fresh mozzarella and arugula was a-mazing, and the pizzas were perfectly light, crispy, and fresh tasting.  I could have sat on that sidewalk terrace all night, but we had a 6 pm reservation at Bourbon and Branch, so we polished off our dinner and hopped in a cab back toward downtown.  I’m still not sure how Marco found out about this place, but Bourbon and Branch has recreated the true ‘speak-easy’ experience.  When you call to make a reservation, they give you the address and a password, and the bar’s entrance is just an old wooden door in an otherwise totally non-descript gray stucco building front.

When you knock on the door, a man in a Dick Tracy-like hat opens the door just a couple of inches, peers outside, and whispers ‘What’s the password?’.  Quite the production, but totally amusing.  Luckily, we had that magic word and were led into a dimly lit bar, replete with dark wood paneling and furniture, deep red velvet-embossed wallpaper, and a drink menu that would impress any cocktail connoisseur.  Since cocktail connoisseur I am not, and since the first page of their menu clearly states, “Do not even think of ordering a Cosmopolitan!”, I nervously flipped through the menu in search of something that looked like it would fit my tastes.  My first choice was a White Lady, which is a mixture of Cointreau, gin, lemon, and egg whites.  The egg whites give the drink an interesting foamy texture, and the lemon cut through some of the really ‘alcoholic’ flavors.  Shane ordered an Old Fashioned (an homage to Donald Draper, for you Mad Men fans), and claims it was the best cocktail he’s ever tasted.  We stayed for one more round, and then headed back out into 21^st-century San Francisco in search another venue to continue our adventure.  We ended up at Lori’s diner and munched on French fries to soak up some of the alcohol that was resting in our stomachs from those uber-strong cocktails.  One more stop after that for a night cap, and we were ready to call it a night.  We said good-bye to Marco and Lisa as they hopped on the Bart, returned to our hotel, and slept like a couple of babies that night, thankful that we’d had the foresight to fill up on food and water before we went to bed.

Yesterday we woke to a fog-blanketed city, but didn’t mind the gray weather, as we had time to get a slow start to the day.

Really, we had only one item on the agenda:  meet up with a couple of other friends to watch the Giants WIN against the Rockies.  It turned out to be a good afternoon for a baseball game, sunny and clear, and as we put on our Giants gear, we silently said a little prayer that our team would come through with a victory (we’ve watched them lose twice this year already, in San Francisco and Seattle, and I was worried that Shane just couldn’t bear a third defeat).  The Rockies started off strong, and we were nervous when they went into the bottom of the 7^th inning with a 5-2 lead.  But then the Giants’ Renteria stepped up to the plate and knocked a pitch right out of the park, bringing in four runs and giving the Giants the lead.  It was one of those all-consuming, totally joyous, game-going moments when everyone jumps up and down and grins stupidly and hugs and high-fives each other.  Very cool.  The Rockies just weren’t the same after that Grand Slam and so our team came through with a 9-5 win.  YESSS!  Games like that make me rethink my only lukewarm feelings about baseball.

We turned in early last night after a relaxing swim in the hotel pool, and I am now beginning my first day to myself at Café Centro, trying to decided what kinds of adventures today will hold.  I’m suddenly feeling like the opportunities are endless…

Wandering the streets of downtown Portland was wonderful, but getting to spend some time hanging out with my niece was even better.  Elise is motoring all over the place these days, darting from room to room, pausing only occasionally to catch her balance, and then she’s off once again.  She still loves books, and I treasure the moments that she’ll snuggle up on my lap and let me read to her.  She is expanding her vocabulary daily, but still uses the bit of sign language she has learned when she really wants to get her point across (the sign for ‘more’ is very popular when it comes to snack-time).  As with any one and half year-old, she has her mellow moments and her not-so-mellow moments.  I caught her on one of her more mellow mornings yesterday, as I hung out with her on Alberta Street while Kathryn got her hair cut.  We went to a coffee shop together, and she sat on my lap as I drank my latte and she munched on rice cakes, while we flipped through the paper together.  It was lovely, true auntie-niece bonding time.  I love this little girl so much, and although I hate to miss out on so much of her growth, I am already looking forward to seeing what new words she has learned or interests she has developed when I catch up with her again next month.  It’s fun to see her personality shine through more and more with each visit.  And is it really possible that she just keeps getting cuter and cuter?

I returned yesterday afternoon from a three-day trip to Portland – a work-related conference took me down there, but I was fortunately able to squeeze in some time to enjoy the city and hang out with family.  It was nice to have a few hours to myself to wander through downtown with my camera – I was reminded of how much I love the city’s textures and charm.

Portland has this unique industrial richness to it that imparts a sense of age of vibrancy to the street fronts and neighborhoods.  The brick warehouses and historic water towers of the Pearl district, the fire escapes that zig-zag across the fronts of so many buildings, the facades in varied colors of stone and tile…  I’m a sucker for all of it.

And for better and for worse, the ‘grittier’ areas are slowly being infiltrated with trendy cafes, boutiques, and galleries.  I love coffee, fashion, and art, so far be it from me to complain, but I hope that these new establishments are able to respectfully work within the existing architectural and urban character of the city.

Ahhhh, I love this city…

I am constantly looking for new ‘Schnell Family Traditions’ that Shane and I can instate and take part in year after year.  Today I think we may have found a perfect summer ritual – we called a couple of friends, hopped in the car, and were off to do some blueberry picking.  Our destination was Bybee Nims Farm in North Bend, which was beautiful.  We wandered among the aisles between heavily-laden bushes as Mount Si loomed beneath a layer of misty clouds in the background.  Perfect.

The berries were fat and juicy – so good in fact, that for every few Shane dropped in the bucket, I caught him popping one or two in his mouth.

The darling hands of our little helper plucked the berries from the lower boughs…

We walked away with over 5 pounds of berries, at the bargain price of only 10 bucks!  We’ve been gorging ourselves on them all day – sooooo good.

We were up bright and early yesterday to catch a ferry from Mukilteo to Whidbey Island, to do some sightseeing with Shane’s parents and some catching up with friends we hadn’t seen in awhile.  We spent most of the day hanging out at our friend’s beautiful beach home -  Shane and his dad fished off the shore, while Shane’s mom and I enjoyed lounging in the sun.  I believe there are few things better than the feel of a cool ocean breeze blowing across your face as you squish soft, warm sand between your toes.  Heaven.

Shane was not so lucky in fishing endeavors, as he didn’t catch anything other than a sunburn on the back of his neck and the tops of his feet, but he wasn’t complaining.  Just the act of standing by the water, casting his line in and watching the waves crash, was enough to put a smile on his face.

Not a bad place to park yourself for a Sunday afternoon, huh?

Once we’d gotten our sand and sun fix, we headed into Coupeville for some scrumptiously fresh mussels at Toby’s, followed by ice cream cones from the parlor down the street.  Bellies full, it was time to bid farewell to the island, which we did by way of Deception Pass.  The view of the bay was amazing, but I was just as taken with the lacy structure of the steel bridge that crosses the pass.

And so another beautiful summer weekend in the Northwest came to a close (and I silently cursed the arrival of Monday)…