Bergen: Rain, Rain, Go Away

 

The next few days are a blur of rainy and sleepy. We got up every day before 6 a.m., an unheard of state-side event for us. And we went to bed after midnight. Consequently I was hit with an overwhelming desire to nap every afternoon and I felt completely justified by the relentless cold drizzle.

I had only packed two pairs of jeans and two sweaters, so I was frustrated by my wardrobe, especially the fact that the only close-toed shoes I had were my running sneakers and some dangerous high heeled boots.

Frustration turned to rainy day blues and by the second morning when Kip left for his work conference I laced up and ran up, nearly 1,000 feet through Bergen neighborhoods to a Floyan mountain trail with steep switchbacks.

As I ran up in my running shorts, the only running pants I own, the weather changed into a cold, whipping wind. Once I got to the top I enjoyed the cloudy grey view of Bergen below and turned around. I ran back home faster than I have ever descended a hill, hit the shower and went back to my napping.

But to be fair there were some highlights those first few days.

The first day that Kip and I were there we explored the city and found the fish market. We sampled everything the fishermen were offering, smoked salmon, smoked mackerel. Everything was expensive, but Kip discovered that because the mackerel was in abundance and less interesting to tourist, it was also a relative bargain. We picked up several pieces for a fraction of what we paid at the restaurant the first night.

Kip and the fish market

"Kipper" snacks, smoked mackerel, crackers and Norwegian cheese.... yummy budget food

 The sun also broke that first afternoon and we rode Bergen’s famous Floyan Funicular up the mountain. The top of the mountain is covered in beautiful hiking trails, so we enjoyed exploring that too. It was our first real glimpse into how extraordinarily beautiful this country is.

The Floibanen up Mount Floyen is an interesting piece of engineering. This steep little railway uses the counter balance of two cars to pull it up 320 meters in a few minutes.

Kip loves trains and trams and everything like it. I love watching him love them.

View of Bergen and it's fjord from the top

Kip and the fjord below

Looking down on Bergen

It's finally clear in Bergen, but it is cold. I was so glad I had brought my winter jacket. It was an afterthought that I stuffed it into my suitcase. I am so glad I did.

The top of Mount Floyen is the trail head for several mountain hikes. We took a couple easy ones, but we saw serious backpackers heading into the woods with camping gear. In Norway it is legal to camp almost anywhere you want, as long as you leave things the way you found them.

Drinking from a $5 water bottle. I reused it all week. Norway has some tasty tap water. I think some of our bottled water here in the US is just Norwegian tap water.

And I had been praying Psalm 23: Lead me beside still waters. When I saw this mountain top lake I smiled. Still indeed.

This is a ceder lined port-o-potty. It's beautiful and smells like a hamster cage.

I just like taking pictures of him. He looks like he belongs here.

Norway and the Netherlands

At the top of Floibanen Funicular with Bergen and the fjords below

I have so many thoughts on our 12 days in Norway and Amsterdam. I am glad we took a ton of pictures because each part of the trip was different from the rest and I want to remember it all. This blog is my souvenir.

We explored Bergen, a small city/college town with modern aspirations and medieval cobble stone streets; Flam, the world's most picturesque rural country with it's abundance of physical beauty and purity; and Amsterdam, a busy city of trains and canals and bikes, it's notorious "coffeehouses" and red light district and surprisingly, also faithful people of prayer.

This trip, more than other International trips Kip and I have taken together, was difficult and challenging and surprising and rewarding -- all at once. But at this moment, as I put together my thoughts on every detail of our journey, I am overwhelmingly thankful to have been able to go.

It seemed like a “bad” time to make a big trip, but so much of what we experienced and discovered seemed perfectly relevant to where we are. God knows what we need and delights in blessings us. I am so thankful.

Malibu Half Marathon

Early morning sun heats up Point Magu before the races starts.

Kip and I ran the Malibu Half Marathon this morning.

It was my first half marathon, Kip’s first long distance race and our first time running in any event together; which also meant it was my first time not being dropped off at the start  or chased by my family support team with fresh Gatorade, encouragement and personal paparazzi.

But we managed to run the race in 2:22, which I thought was great.

The beautiful bluffs along the Pacific Costal Highway always make the Malibu Marathon a challenging course, but today the sun was out in full force. It was blazing by the 8:30 half marathon start and nearing 80 degrees by the time we finished.

Of course the route was also as beautiful as Malibu can be -- sun shinning through crystal clear waves, dolphins jumping, surfers surfing, clear blue skies.

At one point, as we charged up a steep bluff overlooking a gorgeous surf break, I turned to Kip and said, “I think I picked the wrong sport.”

(Kip has a couple surfboards in our storage area, testimony to an LA time before remodeling projects, late night band practice and weekend sailing. Maybe it’s time to get them out again and try. I think I am almost brave enough to give it another try.)

Before

This morning, as we were rushing out the door at 6:30 a.m., I realized that we did not have any milk in the fridge for the kids’ breakfast. So we flew down to the convenience store and got milk before heading out to Malibu.

For some reason the chocolate milk looked appealing to me, so I ate frosted mini wheats in chocolate milk while Kip rushed us to Malibu. It was kind of gross, but I thought it might be the carbo boast I needed.

When we arrived at Zuma Beach to catch the bus to the start line, I immediately realized that the half marathon was going to be much more crowded than last year. The parking lot was full for miles and cars were squeezed in every free spot along the PCH. 

We were barely making the 7:30 “last” bus, but we somehow found a free spot and ran to the bus.

We made it. And just like the LA Marathon in the spring, it became apparent that marathon officials were going to hold the race and continue to run buses until the crowd was at the start line.

There was something funny about riding in a big yellow school bus with Kip. We met in high school and shared some high school experiences together, but I don’t think we ever road a school bus together back then.

back of the bus, self portrait, high school style

During

The race started at Point Mugu, a funny little campground squeezed between the PCH and the ocean. The last time we were there, our family left the campground in the middle of the night after a wicked wind storm crushed our tent and sparked the Malibu wildfires. That was three years ago.

But there was no wind or fire this morning, just thousands of half marathoners lining up to start.

The race itself was about 12 miles of hills and one final mile-long descent into Malibu. By mile 10 I was glad that it was just a half marathon. And by the end I found it hard to believe that last year I ran the same course, plus another 13.1 miles of Ventura farmland. Of course I had trained for a marathon that time and training seems to make all the difference.

So proud of Kip!! You can give me my sunglasses back now, Babe.

After

Despite fatigue, Kip and I sprinted to the finish line and arrived .001 seconds apart. We weaved through the customary reception of medals and food, bananas, chips and water, to get the real treat at Malibu -- the finisher’s beach towels which look better than any race T-shirt at summer social functions.

And then we wasted no time in trying them out. We headed straight for the beach to stretch, take pictures and relax in the hot November sun.

Refreshing cold water

Yeah!

My friend Kathleen finished a little later and the three of us slowly made our way back to our SUV, which we had so hastily parked along the PCH before the race. We walked for several minutes and slowly realized it wasn’t where we thought it should be.

We kept walking and apologizing to our friend who likely wasn’t planning on walking an additional two miles after the half marathon. And finally I laced up my running shoes again and ran off in search of the car.

Fortunately the car was still there, just parked much further away than we had realized in our rush to make the bus. I was so very grateful that it had not been towed.

When we got home we decided to take the kids swimming, so instead of hitting the showers and bed, we dipped into the pool. It actually felt good to stretch in the water and I’m betting it will make recovery easier tomorrow.

And what is next? I’m probably going to run the LA Marathon in March. Kip says a half was good enough for him, but he might change his mind when he forgets how difficult it was today. I know I always do.

Tokyo: Lost in Transition

EXT. BUSY TOKYO STREET -- 10 P.M.

The jet lagged couple emerges from their budget hotel.

Wide-eyed and conscious of their new tourist status, they fall into the nightly Tokyo pedestrian traffic - men in suits, women in dresses, teenage girls in school uniforms. 

The night glows in neon life. Zen went to war with capitalism and lost in this corner of Japan. Everything but the people are big and loud.

ME

(sleepy and enchanted)

I love it!

I felt in every way that we were there, really there, and I loved it.

We had arrived just a few hours earlier after a marathon of activity. The week before my entire family had come to LA, my brother had gotten married, Kip's parents had stayed with us and then we had hopped a plane to Tokyo.
 
It wasn't quite hopped, but we had barely taken time to pack our clothes or read the travel guides I had gotten at the library. And we were surviving on very little sleep.

But we were thrilled to be spending a 24-hour layover in the world's biggest city, so when we arrived in Tokyo we immediately found our hotel, a little dive with tiny hotel rooms in the heart of Shinjuku, the "Time Square" of Tokyo, and fell asleep.

The 5-minute power nap turned into a couple hours and it was dark when we woke up.  But not wanting to miss a single minute of our Tokyo adventure, we headed out to find some Sushi.

Believe it or not, we couldn't.

We walked around for hours until I literally threw my heels at Kip and refused to go any further until he stopped following the GPS around in circles.

It's then that we discovered two things about restaurants in Tokyo.

One, they are multilevel, so the electronic sign and plastic food display for one restaurant outside a building might just as well be for any one of the six stacked up on top of each other.

And secondly, restaurants in Tokyo close relatively early. As soon as we found one place that had been recommended in our tourist guide, it turned out to be closed.

It was approaching midnight. And I was very hungry.

So we eventually gave in to one of the many Japanese guys trying to hustle us inside. We picked what looked like a nice teriyaki barbecue joint. Unfortunately it turned out to be a smoky basement restaurant with mystery meat on the menu, something like chicken hearts on a skewer. So much for fresh sushi in Japan.
I was tired and disappointed. But we struck up a conversation with a kid from Denmark and a couple of his Japanese friends who gave us better advice on where to go and what to see.

Eating red bean pastry -- after the mystery meat disappointment

The next morning we checked out of our tiny hotel room and started walking around our neighborhood. We walked through a Buddhist temple area, several Western/Asian coffee shops, arcades with "doll eyes" photo booths and shops with overpriced cute stuff like sushi shaped candles for $20.

plastic food advertising the menu

Y

You can buy almost anything in a Tokyo vending machine. Cigarettes here.

We made a pilgrimage to the Toto showroom in search of the world famous electronic toilets, only to find that it was closed. The public bathrooms, however, were open, and not disappointing.

Which button to simply flush?

With a little trepidation we took on the world's most complicated metro system, a myriad of train stops with unfamiliar names. We got turned around a few times, but it made it to Asakusa, not to be confused with Akasaka (which is also a stop), to see a famous Shinto temple and walk around the more tourist appropriate neighborhoods.

 Here is a funny story. This poor kid obviously thought Kip was a movie star/rock star of some kind. He came running up to Kip, ecstatic, and said alot of something in Japanese. Then he insisted on me taking his picture with Kip with his camera. He seemed confused when we also wanted to get a picture of him.

It was Saturday and the streets were packed, although the tourists were mostly Asians, so I still felt like we were in Asia. And we resumed our search for authentic sushi.

We wandered around again for a long time and were just about to join a long line snaking around a very touristy joint when we saw a wooden door slide open next to the tourist line. A Japanese woman said in broken English, "good sushi here...." She pointed to the line of tourists and shook her head. Then she pointed to the closed door on the restaurant with almost no sign.
"Good"

We trusted her.

And we hit jackpot.

It was a real sushi place, the kind where you take your shoes off and sit at low tables. The kind with absolutely no English on the menu and a boisterous sushi chief shouting hello to patrons as they entered. Even the prices were printed in Japanese characters.

Thankfully Kip had taken karate as a kid and knew Japanese numbers, as well as "thank you." And we somehow ordered a tray of fresh sushi, the best I have ever had, and a plate of tempura. It was the best lunch ever.

 Bride and groom at Shinto temple

 Serious about recycling here

From there we headed back to the hotel to pick up our bags, explore that part of the city a bit more and then ride the complicated metro back to the airport. Kip was transporting the poster he was presenting at his conference, so while we were squeezing into the subway with our suitcases, I was guarding the poster, the reason we were even in Asia.

And then we were eating kimchi on an Asiana flight to Korea. It all happened so quickly.

It was amazing, overwhelming in a good way. If I could return to Tokyo, I'd go back in a heartbeat.

Malibu Marathon

The Malibu Marathon in brief: beautiful sunny day, amazing ocean view, challenging hills, least crowded marathon ever, wonderful personal support and encouragement from my ever faithful friend Kip, and overall the most enjoyable long run that I can remember.

I finished in 4:57, just barely under that 5 hour mark, and nearly 20 minutes slower than the LA marathon, but not too bad considering I had trained less for this race and the course turned out to be significantly more challenging than the LA race. Most importantly, I finished the race feeling fine. I was certainly ready for the race to be over as I crossed the finish line, but I was strong enough to enjoy the rest of the day.

Unlike the LA Marathon in May which attracted at least 15,000 runners, only about 370 runners ran the Malibu Marathon, which made it feel comparatively like a quiet, laid-back run along the beach, sort of. I’m not sure 26.2 miles will ever really be “laid back.” But it felt relaxed, and I ran it feeling relaxed.

The race began just after dawn in Ventura County, along country roads in a sample of California’s beautiful farmland. My marathoning partner from the LA Marathon, Jon, and I played name-that-plant/vegetable for the first hour. Having spent some of my childhood in rural farming communities, where rolling acres are devoted to the same crop, tobacco or cotton in Alabama, corn in Wisconsin; I was delighted by the diversity of plants growing at every turn – artichokes, cabbages, celery, and strawberries.

El Caballo really wanted to run with us.

When I passed mile 10 I remembered that 11 months ago my goal had been to run 10 miles before the end of 2008. I ran that on New Year’s Eve and was so exhausted that I zonked before we were able to ring in the New Year. I could barely walk the next day, and here I was, less than a year later, passing mile 10 with a smile.

About half way through the race the route turned along the Pacific Coastal Highway, and the runners were treated to the world famous views of mountains and ocean. Sometimes the wind blew against us, and at one time I had to turn around and chase my hat.

Let the hills begin!

Up hill ..against the wind

Around mile 18, just when I started to really feel tired, we hit a series of challenging hills that continued until mile 24.

Jon, who had been taking it easy, (he is training for more challenging races over the next few months) decided to speed up around mile 20 and he ended up finishing quite a bit before me. But being alone for the last few miles gave me time to focus on the run and dig deep for that perseverance that makes runners into marathon finishers.

Through the whole race Kip was the most amazing support person ever. At the beginning of the race he noticed that I had dropped my energy snacks, a little stick of strawberry-flavored jelly chews that stick to my braces and give me that little extra boost. And by the time I rounded the first big intersection, he was there, camera and energy snacks in hand.

I had not expected to see him often along the route, but he was able to follow me all the way, driving a few miles ahead and waiting for me, taking pictures, offering Gatorade, smiling, cheering, doing his best impression of Chariots of Fire – which actually became less funny around mile 22. He even changed into a pair of running shorts and ran up a hill or two with me.

Because the hills were so difficult, I forgot about the actual mileage at one point and just focused on running. I was actually surprised when I passed the Malibu fire station and someone yelled, “just two more miles to go.” I thought about that in terms of circles around my neighborhood park, and I knew I could make it. It was helpful that the last two miles were mostly downhill too.

The foot I sprained about a month earlier was throbbing by this point, and I just wanted to make it to the finish. Focus. Finish. Focus.

I also started listening to a podcast of This American Life at this time, which made me laugh. I realized that it was probably not a very competitive strategy to start listening to NPR in the last leg of a marathon, but it was relaxing in a way that helped me zone out of my discomfort.

finishing at 4:57

At the finish line, after receiving my medal and commemorative beach towel, I took my shoes off and waded into the chilly ocean water. It felt great on my swollen feet.

Calling Mom and Dad to tell them all about it.

I told one of my friends today that I really don’t want to see myself as a 5-hour kind of marathon runner. I think if I run another marathon I’ll work on improving my time, but for now, I’m happy that I enjoyed this run. My constant prayer had been, “help me to run well and finish strong.” And I felt like God helped me do that.

My sister asked me a few weeks ago why I wanted to run a marathon, and I wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. Maybe I run marathons (hey, I can be plural now) because it feels really great to set a huge goal and accomplish it. But it must be more than that because I don’t quite get the same feeling from finishing my taxes or organizing the hall closet. Maybe I just like the medals.

Not sure why, but I think I want to do it again.