Quite an adventure tonight.
The day itself was pretty placid and nice. Just the usual mix of work and talking with folks and after hours a bit of play with the Fiat gang.
John called the Gold Hill Inn and they said that they couldn't fit us in until 8:30 and the instructions to get there were really minimal. Go up Canyon, turn right, and go to Gold Hill and they'd be there. They said it was just 10 miles from Boulder. The restaurant has a lovely reputation for a good view, excellent French style food with a six course menu, and really knowing how to prepare the food they have.
We'd even dressed up. John in a silk, button-up shirt that had his
co-workers saying that they didn't recognize him and me in a red silk shirt
and my black linen skirt, both of which I actually got the iron out and
ironed before leaving the house! Pretty amazing what I'll go through for
So we didn't leave until 8, and I was feeling not too good for various reasons but I got my snack and my walk on the treadmill in. I'm liking the treadmill more and more, it's giving me time to think and to just exist and to be entirely by myself and not worry about anyone or anything. I just have this one thing to do and I'm doing it, which feels pretty good in and of itself, not just the physical benefits of upping my heartrate regularly. Twenty sweet minutes of having to worry about nothing and no one. I'm already going at 2.6 miles per hour and 2 seems slow. If I keep this up I'll probably get faster as I go. I can also feel the benefit for my reconstructed knee, especially when I walk straight and don't shuffle.
Yeah, when I'm not running, I tend to shuffle and pigeon toe a little. It's kinda funny. With the mirror right in front of me, it's easy to make myself walk straight.
They say that walking is a mild impact exercise, so it should help keep my bones strong and do good things for my lower back, which some of the no-impact exercises can't provide. So if I get fast enough or even ambitious enough, I might do both the walking and some biking. Still, I have to keep things below 140 beats per minute on my heartrate, and it really doesn't take much anymore. Quite a far cry from even three years ago, when I was running around like a crazy woman on the soccer field two or three times a week. I get a hint of it on the treadmill, how easy it might be to break into a run and what it used to feel like to just run and run, liquid and easy, the breath and body pumping as one, limbs moving in sweet synchronization. How times do change. So quickly.
At 8 we took off into the hills, the Passat handing the tightly curved roads really happily, that German engineering making all the turns crisp and sharp. The only problem with that, however, was that since my stomach wasn't feeling all that good and the world was turning dark, I started feeling, for the first time in a long, long time, car sick.
Things compounded a bit as we got to a T that only had arrows in the two directions, one saying Gold Hill thataway, but without any information as to how far thataway and we were already beyond ten miles from even the edge of Boulder. So we went thataway, through a tiny town with houses tucked in the woods and on the hillsides and then the road turned into a dirt road. Hm. Then the dirt road wound up and up and up and there were no lights on the road and fewer and fewer and then finally no house lights at all. We'd already gone well beyond what they'd said, we didn't have a map and we didn't really know where we were going. We were already well late for our 8:30 reservation and I was starting to feel really, really bad.
Problem was that I'd timed it so that I'd eat at 8:30. So I got weak, cranky, unhappy, felt really awful, and had no brain. Amazing what a bit of hunger can do to me now. Pretty scary when you really think about it; and John, realizing that I was already in bad shape and that we didn't know how far we'd have to go or even when we'd know that we'd gotten there, turned around and headed back to Boulder. Also those super active kidneys had kicked in and filtered out enough liquid to make me unhappy. He thought about taking us to the Dandelion, which is another good, expensive place, but it would take a while for us to get the food. So, instead, he took us to China Gourmet, on my queries, as they'd likely be fast with their food. Unluckly, by the time we got there it was well past 9 and they were closed. As was the Italian place next door. As was the grocery store in the same parking lot. I couldn't even get a Clif bar. Bah.
I did, however, get to use the restroom at the Italian place and felt mildly better, nothing urgent driving my bad mood, at least, anymore. Just that slow feeling of dying from hunger.
So we decided to just go home, have me lie on the couch while John made spaghetti dinner; but on the way home we saw as Coco's open, still. So I said, "Let's eat there, it'll be faster than getting home." And John pulled over and we got to go in and eat! Hoorah! A nice salad and a really cheap $5 spaghetti dinner with crunchy garlic cheese bread later, I felt a lot better. No more of that 'I'm going to fall over and die if I don't eat' feeling anymore.
We planned to try this again some other day, today didn't count. And John would make sure that we got an early reservation, we'd bring the damned topo map the next time and know exactly where we were going and how we'd know we were there, and we'd only do it if I wasn't feeling awful to start. And I'd been feeling pretty awful, today. So it was good. It was an adventure that taught us some stuff. Like the simple fact that it's easy for me to agree to doing some things that I may well not be able to do anymore. So John learned to not push things beyond the 9 p.m. sleep schedule and I relearned that I just shouldn't agree to stuff so readily. We'd actually gotten better at this before my capabilities changed so drastically, but we're having to recalibrate. I just hope that after the pregnancy, I can manage to gear myself back up afterwards.
Went home, sleepy from the carb blast, and when I brushed my teeth the rest of the day kinda caught up with me and I got really sick. Luckily, I'd already braided my hair, and I mostly got to the toilet in time, and John came during the last few heaves to just rub my back, which felt pretty good. Amused us both when the first thing I could actually say was, "Well, at least that wasn't an expensive dinner."
He was a dear and cleaned up when I cleaned myself up and said that he'd take care of the house as well, as the maid service comes in tomorrow. I can't even say how grateful I was that he was doing it and leaving me to rest. The purging actually left me feeling calm though exhausted, and I rebrushed my teeth to get all the ooky taste out and fell into bed, after eating my vitamin, hoping it would stay down and be nourishing by itself. Sleep just closed over me like black waters.