And I was running...

That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since I run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama. And that's what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going. When I got to another ocean, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well just turn back, keep right on going.

So I didn't run across Alabama, or any states, and I'm pretty sure I could drive the distance I ran in about 10 minutes or something, but I am damn proud to share that I have officially finished my first half-marathon. I am especially proud because if you would have asked me this last year at this time if I would have run five K, I would have laughed at you. Not because I couldn't run, or had never run (I was running 5k every morning for awhile there when I lived in London), but because the idea of a race seemed so far away from my mental space. If you would have asked me six months ago, back in October, I might have told you sure, 5k is doable, but only just that. Because I was not a runner, I had no time to run, I mean who has the time or energy to do these things after such long days at work?

And then right around that time, my friend W shared that she had registered for the Berlin Half Marathon during her birthday weekend, and since we have been celebrating her birthday together over the past few years as time/location allowed, I should join her. I think she was half-joking, half serious. Or maybe she wasn't. But for some reason, I said, ok sure, I'll do it.

Time for some truth. When I signed up, I did it knowing that I might back out. Actually, I was about 75% sure there was no way in hell I was running any such sort of half marathon anything. I remember checking the time to see if I could walk it, or what would happen if I just stopped at some point and took a taxi back to the hotel. I had all sorts of contingency plans. You all know me, I always have a back-up. But I sent off my payment, and added it to my calendar and got on the Nike+ running app, and started trying to exercise each day. I think the first program it put me on was a beginner's 10k, which involved a lot of walk/run at the start. I remember those first couple weeks. It was hard. I would walk a k, then try to run one, and it was brutal. I remember thinking - how in the hell did I do this every morning, and more importantly, why did I ever think this was fun?! The walk/run gradually changed to jog and then run, and before I knew it had done a 5k all the way through running. The time was abysmal - I think maybe 36 minutes (I used to be able to do 26 or 27 on a really, really good day)- but it happened. And I began to have just a tiny bit of hope. I was inconsistent with the program due to travel, but one day in a hotel gym I was running and not getting super tired and so I decided to see if I could keep going. I had to stop a couple times along the way, but I ended up clearing 10k. Didn't break any land-speed records, but I got the distance in. I kept up some sporadic training - running when I could - up until the Christmas holidays and my trip to Costa Rica. I even tried a bit of running then, but mostly I didn't. I also ended up getting really, really sick with a terrible sinus infection that wouldn't have let me run even if I tried.

My Nike+ training for the marathon was scheduled for 11 January, a date that was burned into my memory. After I got back from Costa Rica, and got over (finally!) my illness, I decided that I couldn't half-ass this thing. I took a long hard look at my diet. No more alcohol (although after my illness, I couldn't stomach the thought for some reason). No more white carbs - and very, very little of the brown ones. Up the protein. Keep the good fats. Tear up the delivery menus. And stick to the training - no matter what. I promised myself that barring an injury or some sort of apocalyptic weather pattern, I was running. Traveling? Hit the hotel gym. Find a path. No excuse.

I'm happy to say that for my 12 week plan, I only missed one day. That was in week 10 when my body was like TAKE A BREAK DAMN YOU, TAKE A BREAK. I've learned from my friends who are more experienced runners to "respect the rest". Sometimes your body just says no - and not the Saturday morning "no I don't want to run 15k no no no let me sleep please" no, but the "I'm about to collapse, don't you dare" no. So I took a day off, and found I felt better and it paid off later. I'm also happy to say that I've drastically overhauled my food and lifestyle choices. I've had some drinks since January, but NOTHING compared to my life before. Strangely, I no longer crave wine. I used to LOVE wine. Now, I like a half a beer or so - or if I'm feeling really adventurous, a vodka tonic. I am not anti-alcohol, and I do still enjoy a drink or two - but I also know that those drinks have a "cost" to my body, and so I should make those choices wisely.

I've seen great changes in my body. I don't know exactly how much weight I lost, but I do know that at some point around week 7 or 8, my running pants began to literally fall off me while running. I was running in my size 10 Lululemons - which I had previously loved for their expanding qualities ("ate a whole pizza? No problem, fam. We got you!" - these pants). I had pulled the inner string as tight as I could and triple knotted it and they were still too loose. Given that I plan on running and most likely will probably lose more weight, I didn't want to invest in more Lulus at this point, so off I went to TJ Maxx on a work trip to DC. Imagine my surprise when what fit was a size small. I bet if I were to weigh myself the actual pounds wouldn't be so much - but I've lost flab and gained definition. I've also lost a lot of what I jokingly call my "biscuits" - aka muffin top gone crazy. I really hadn't realized the extent of said biscuits until I saw some pictures from Turkey and then Costa Rica. (CR was better, but only by like one biscuit or so). I also realized I'm a master at camouflaging myself in clothes that probably shouldn't no actually don't really fit. My closet hasn't changed that much - but the way the clothes fit definitely has. Things are loose or too loose. Dresses seem way longer now that I don't have the baker's dozen of dough holding them up. Shirts fit altogether differently. The other day I was able to tuck a shirt in and not even think twice - something that is an amazing feat when you've struggled with your weight your whole life.

I should add that I didn't do this to lose weight. That wasn't on my mind as I pounded the pavement. I was thinking about a goal, and proving to myself that I could do it. I changed my eating to fuel my body to achieve that goal. The change in my body has been a very, very nice side effect - and one that will of course encourage me to keep going.

Running the actual half marathon was harder than I thought. For starters, there were 30,000 of my closest friends nearby. Seriously, the place was jammed. Start time was 10:05, but that was for the elite groups apparently. We had to wait around for 45 minutes to go (I was in the last block, which was for super slow and/or people with no prior recorded times). By the time we actually started running, I was tired and wanted a nap. I couldn't get a pace - people were jammed so close to me and in front, on the side, in back - so it was like a constant zig zag. When I run, I like space and I like to set a pace and keep it. My times were all over the place, going from like 05:15/km the first km, 06:45 the second km 06:10 the third km, and so on. I think my official time of 2:25 shows me at around 07:20/km - which factors in my bathroom break (and queue for the porta potty) and three times I had to stop. Once for shoe tying, once because I was sort of run off the road by crazies behind me and once because my knee decided it didn't want to be a knee anymore around 14km. I think it had goals of being a wet noodle instead. So I had to stop, do a few stretches, have a long talk with the knee, and then get back in the horde. My Nike app has me more at 2:15 for the race, which would not take into account these little detours. Either way, I'm pleased with my time. I wanted under 2:30, and I got it. I wanted to make it, and I did.

Races are different than road running. I had run the 21km distance twice already leading up to my training - one as part of the training and once by accident when a GPS calibration issue meant I exceeded my 19km run by a bit. I didn't have issues then. I finished tired - and the bottoms of my feet hurt hurt hurt - but I wasn't achy or anything. In this race, I found my knees started to really hurt around 12km in - I think from all the evasive running action. You don't just run straight in big crowds - its like a sideways run, constantly on the alert for obstacles. I didn't train for an obstacle run, and so I don't think my body was ready for the constant speed up - slow down - dance to the left - dance to the right, weave around - that is a huge run. We also ran on the road, not on the sidewalks - and I think the consistency is different. I also think there was a mental factor for me - I was still horribly tired from jet lag. Note to self: DO NOT TRAVEL THE WEEK BEFORE A HALF MARATHON. Just don't. I was off my schedule, eating differently, sleeping differently. I arrived back in Germany Thursday morning, only to have my run be on Sunday morning. DO NOT DO THIS, PEOPLE.

I also had a waist pack that I use to hold my phone for music. I need to find a better solution for music and time tracking. Anyone know of a watch that holds  2h+ of music and can track time and doesn't die? I tried my iPod nano in training (I think that's what it's called) and it died after 5k. It was super comfortable and clipped right on to my shirt, but a dead battery takes all the fun away.

My biggest learning? Just do it. Seriously. As a marketer, I love Nike's slogan for it's simplicity. As a newbie runner, I love it even more for telling the truth. Just get up, go out there and do it. You run a 15 min kilometer? Great. A 20 minute mile? Great. No one cares. Just. go. do. it. You work and have kids and no time? Do you watch TV? If you have 30 min for Real Housewives, or Sons of Anarchy or whatever the hip kids are watching these days, you have 30 min to train. If you watch 2 shows, you have an hour. You make time. My first long run, I was all haterade 100% of the time. By my 3rd, I looked forward to it. The sun was getting up around 6:30, I was out the door around 7 - and back by 9 or 10 to have a full Saturday anyway, one complete with the good feeling that exercise brings.

It will suck. You will have days when you think you just cannot. I had a day in Thailand on the treadmill where I was like - nope. I was supposed to run 11k. I got to 8 and just could not. So the next day I added in 1.5 and the following another 1.5. I got to my distance goal. I've had to switch out rest days for running days due to travel. I had to get through 16 boring-ass kilometers on the treadmill during my vacation (that was SO boring, thank goodness I could watch Across the Universe on TV while running). I ran in the rain. I ran in the snow. I fell on black ice (not recommended). I then bought grips for the bottom of my running shoes, and a solid running jacket that repels moisture. I learned about eating too soon before running (most runners know about having to make the quick run back to the house to get to the bathroom!). I learned about drinking too much water before running. (Oh, hello there cafe, no I don't want to buy anything, just using your bathroom, ok thanks bye). I learned about not eating enough before running - you feel like a car sounds when it is almost out of gas. I learned about splits, and reverse splits and strides. Mostly, I learned about ME. About my body, and about what it is capable of. I have learned to love and appreciate my body, because it can be powerful and do great things. I have learned to feed it well, with the right things, because in doing so, I care for myself and enable myself to be successful. I have learned to take time for ME - time that isn't sitting on a couch reading, or watching TV, or anything else passive.

This journey has been amazing. Do I think I will ever be a fast runner? Probably not, but who knows. Will I ever be elite? Again, without robot parts, probably not. Will I ever become one of those uber-obsessed runners with the weird muscles and legs? Definitely not. But am I, undoubtedly, now a runner? Yes.

And so, despite the fact that as I'm typing this, I'm well aware of the throbbing from my right knee and of the fact that walking down stairs is not really a possibility right now and that my legs ache and my arms ache and all of me aches - I have already signed up for my next running adventure. Reykjavik Half Marathon, here I come!


Huge thanks to W - who got me on this path, to my friends and family for being so supportive, and to MS for the daily countdown emails that kept my mind right!

Everything is edible, some things only once.

Greetings from sunny Costa Rica! As I'm waiting for my good friend Katie to join me for the second week of my adventures, I thought I would reflect on the past week here.

The quote in the title is courtesy of Jimmy, my tour guide during my aerial tram ride in the Rainforest Adventures Pacific park. He said he stole it from the Marx brothers, but I still found it hilarious.

I arrived into beautiful, sunny Costa Rica last Friday after what can best be described as a frenetic few last weeks of work, during which I presented twice to senior management and led a 2 day meeting in New York. To say I was ready for a vacation was the understatement of the year, as I was wound up tighter than I have been in quite some time. The benefit of a year of nearly non-stop business travel is that I have been able to use hotel points for both weeks of my stay, making this trip quite affordable. I began my adventures in San Jose, at the local Marriott. I cannot recommend this hotel enough. I have been lucky enough to stay in some really fancy places around the world, including some 5* properties known to house royalty, politicians and Hollywood stars. And yet, this small Marriott, tucked away in the heart of San Jose, has offered the best service I have ever experienced. Nearly every staff member I encountered knew my name and the restaurant and bar staff remembered my name, room number and drink choice. Everyone always had a smile and a happy greeting and seemed to genuinely enjoy their jobs. After a truly dismal experience at a W in New York, it was refreshing to be in a property that truly seemed to care about their customers.

I got in late on Friday and headed straight to my room, did not pass go. I unpacked and fell into a dreamless sleep born from exhaustion and the strain of a nearly 17hour journey from Germany. I awoke late on Saturday and had my first Costa Rican breakfast. Can I just say that I could live on breakfast here alone? Rice and beans and delicious salsa, complete with perfectly cooked eggs and a soft, hot and fresh tortilla. My mouth waters just thinking about it! I then headed to the local TAM Tour office to plan out my week of adventures. Being in San Jose meant that for the first week, I was centrally located and just a couple hours ride from any major attraction (rainforest, volcanos, etc). I then spent the rest of the afternoon by the pool, catching up on my reading before hitting the gym for a good 45 minutes of running. For some reason, I am always ready to run long and hard after taking a transatlantic flight. Maybe my body just can't stand being cooped up inside the plane.

On Sunday, I did the San Jose City Tour, which was eye opening. We visited major attractions in the city, including Sabana Park, the National Theatre, the Children's Museum, the Gold Museum, the University of Costa Rica, the Supreme Court and Congress. Many of the old buildings were gorgeous - in a colonial style very reminiscent of San Juan (Puerto Rico) - which makes sense given the Spanish were in both places and the overall proximity. During the tour, I learned that Costa Rica has a rich history with regard to the Jewish people, which I didn't know. There is a strong connection between Israel and San Jose, and apparently a lot of Israelis visit the country for vacation.

Tour guide explaining Jewish connection to CR; look closely at the statue and you will see the six sided star 

Our tour guide, who was absolutely hilarious, also shared with us that the government of Costa Rica seems to be terribly corrupt - at one point, he stopped outside Congress and told us that inside lived "Ali Baba and the 58 Thieves". I never found out if the extra 18 thieves were added to equal the members of congress, or if he just thought there were a LOT of thieves. While early leaders in the country were fair and tried to set up a good system, recent administrations have seemed to milk the country for their own benefit. Another thing we learned was that Costa Rica has had no army since 1948 - basically since when a civil war divided the country and finally the leadership had enough. The money that would go into raising an army is instead funnelled into education, leading to a greater than 98% literacy rate. Being a teacher is a coveted, and - for Costa Rica - well-paid position. All children are mandated to get an education and the government is quite rigorous in enforcing this. Something I think maybe other countries could learn from...

I think the most exciting part of the city trip was getting caught in crazy city traffic. In addition to allowing us time to view the fashions of the people here (think Brooklyn club wear, worn always 2-3 sizes too small), it also enabled us to almost hit several cars. We turned down a street that was supposed to be parking on only one side, but it seemed several cars had decided to park on the left side anyway. This meant our bus couldn't go forward - and we couldn't go backwards due to the traffic.

Here I am, pointing out the offending red truck that blocked our bus. This was an exciting experience involving lots of locals, the police and many horns and expletives.

On Monday, I did what is known as the "Combo Tour", which took us to Poas Volcano National Park, Doka Estate Coffee plantation and La Paz Waterfall gardens. This tour required a 6:50am start, so it was good thing that with the time difference, I found myself wide awake at 5am. We started at the coffee plantation - which was really cool to learn about how coffee is grown and milled. The hype about Costa Rican coffee is not unfounded - it truly is delicious.

This is an actual coffee bean pod opened up, to show two beans. If the pod has just one bean, it is separated because the kind that only produces one bean makes the best kind of coffee.

After the coffee tour, and ending up all hopped up on chocolate covered coffee beans, we headed to Poas Volcano National Park. When we left the coffee plantation, it was sunny and gorgeous weather. When we got to the volcano, it was pouring rain, the sleeting, slanting, completely drenching kind. I've learned that in Costa Rica, weather doesn't change with distance, it changes with altitude. And the higher you go, the more likely it is that - even in the dry season - it will rain. The tour guide was apologetic, as he had done the tour the day before and it was dry and sunny. Given the near bathtime-qualities of the rain, I opted out of the short hike up to the volcano because given the fog and rain, there was nothing to be seen. I did buy myself a poncho to be prepared for future adventures. Following the volcano, we drove on to the La Paz Waterfall Gardens. By this time, the entire bus was on the verge of revolt as it was nearly 1pm and we hadn't had lunch. But before we could get lunch, we needed to walk through the animal rescue center... in the rain, of course. I won't lie, the animals were awesome to see. But Jorge, our poor tour guide, quickly learned the meaning of the word "hangry" as the group nearly went into full-on mutiny, given that breakfast was at 7am. We finally got to the food around 2:10pm, and I can't even remember what I ate, only that it tasted SO good.

Downside: rabid hunger. Upside: I got to hold this bird and he didn't pee on me.

After the feeding frenzy, we visited the La Paz waterfalls. They were really pretty, but I bet they would have been even prettier in the sunshine.

Tuesday ended up being my favorite tour out of the bunch. Another 6:50 am pick up, and this time an hour and a half bus ride to the town of Putarenas. There, we breakfasted on another delicious Costa Rican combination and then boarded a luxurious catamaran for a trip to Tortuga Island. Tortuga means "turtle" in Spanish, and the island is famous both for its pristine white beaches, but also for the many turtles in the water all around. I spent a blissful 90 minutes lying on the net of the front deck, feeling the water splash beneath me and the sun beat down. When we arrived at the island, we could snorkel if we wanted to. Given that I have nearly drowned myself every time I've tried this (don't ask; basically I forget I'm wearing the snorkel and try to dive down and see the fishes and then I end up choking on water...), I chose instead to rent a beach chair and alternate between reading and swimming in the ocean. Pure bliss. The team cooked us a first class buffet on the beach and then we had a few more hours by the sea. We rode the catamaran back to Putarenas just as the sun set.

I'm on a boat!!! :)

The sand and arrival at Tortuga Island

Our boat from a distance

Sunset on the way back to Putarenas...

Wednesday brought with it an even earlier wake-up time, as the bus picked me up at 06:10. Now, it is worth noting that the three previous tours all offered breakfast. As I didn't know that, I had been going to the Executive Lounge and grabbing some fruit, yogurt and coffee before each journey. Given the crack of dawn pick up time for this trip, I felt safe in assuming breakfast.

Hahahaha, no. So when we picked up the last group at one of the hotels, I ran into the gift shop and quickly grabbed a Luna energy bar, knowing that without sustenance, I could end up seriously hurting someone. This tour was billed as "The Original 3 in 1 Rainforest Adventure". I would rename it "A Decent but not super exciting way to spend a day". We started the tour on the Sarapiqui River, where we spotted several animals, including all kinds of birds, a three-toed sloth and a couple crocodiles.

This dude is poisonous, despite looking super cute

Hungry for humans...

After a quick break for coffee and cookies (SO glad I got the Luna bar at this point), we headed an hour or so towards to the Selva Verde lodge. I think this part of the tour was the least interesting, as basically we parked at this lodge and then walked through their hiking trail. I did see some frogs and some beautiful wildlife, but I could have also given it a pass. Lunch followed, and was weird. The choices were mashed potatoes, some sort of braised pork situation that I avoided, chicken balls (kind of like croquettes), beans and rice. There was also a decent side salad and a pasta salad. When I asked my tour guide about the food, she looked at me strangely and said, "That's the way we eat". Thus explaining the general level of overweightness I saw in the people - all that starch and anyone would be pudgy.

After this tour, we went to the Rainforest Adventures for either a zipline or an aerial tram. Three guess as to the one I picked, and the first two don't count. Yep, I did the gondola. It was pretty cool, and VERY green.

On the tram before the heavens opened up

It was also very, very, wet. That picture was taken just before the heavens opened up, and treated us to the real meaning of the words "rainforest". I ended up very, very damp. Thank goodness for my trusty yellow poncho, which kept me from being completely drenched. It was really cool, though, to be gliding through a protected rainforest while it was raining. Everything was so beautiful, and quiet and still. Definitely good for the soul, if not for the overall state of my hair and clothing.

After the rainforest, we stopped by a roadside fruit stand - mostly at the request of a couple on the tour bus who wanted to sample the local fruits and vegetables.

Local fruits

The roadside stand

I think these were described as something from a palm tree and they were boiled and they were DELICIOUS. Tasted like tomato, but not tomato. Hard to explain but noms, noms, noms.

On the way back from this stop, we hit major traffic. It seems a truck had overturned earlier, spilling his cargo all over the highway and this led to delays all day. I was supposed to be back at the hotel at 5:30pm. I didn't get off the bus until nearly 7pm. By that point I was tired, hungry and completely OVER tour busses and traffic and crazy Costa Rican driving. I was supposed to do another tour on Thursday - a visit to Arenal Volcano - but given that this tour picked up at 8am and returned at 10pm, I decided to opt out. I visited my buddy Ronald in the tour office and got a refund. I just could not with any more tours.

I spent Thursday and yesterday at the pool. I rose early - always before 7, and then had a quick breakfast before staking out my pool chair and alternating between lazing in the water or lazing under the sun. I have gotten through 3 books so far this way, and it has been amazingly relaxing. The sun goes down around 5pm here, so I've been hitting the gym at night. Being in a bathing suit every day does wonders for the desire to work out!

Today is my last day here in San Jose. I woke early (again), despite not being able to fall asleep until about 11 (due to fireworks, which apparently were set off in celebration of Christmas) and being awakened again at 2am by some noise in the hallway I couldn't identify. I managed to hit the gym and run 5k before packing everything up and checking out. I'm now sitting poolside, waiting for K's plane to land (soon!!!). We will then head westward for about 3 - 3.5 hours to get to Playa Conchal, where we will spend the next week. I've heard it is absolutely beautiful and I can't wait.

So far, it has been pura vida indeed.

Catching Up: Liechtenstein

I can't believe the last time I updated das blog was back in September! I really need to be more disciplined about this - especially since I have put myself on a Facebook hiatus given my tendency to want to get way too involved in some online debates (hours and hours of time I will never get back).

So, what has been going on since September? Lots of travel - as per usual. Some of it for fun (my brother's wedding), most of it for work. I've traveled so much this year that since June I've already hit Lufthansa's highest frequent flyer level. After E and A came, W came to visit me and we had a fantastic time. On the spur of the moment, we decided on an overnight trip to Liechtenstein. You may recall that W is the one who "encouraged" me to paraglide off a 2,000m mountain in August - so it probably shouldn't come as a surprise that our short trip involved me hiking up the side of one of the mountains (namely Alpsptize in the Wetterstein Gebirge). I was woefully underprepared - both in terms of general fitness level and shoewear - but I managed to follow W up to the Summit Cross. (Learn more here: http://www.summitpost.org/alpspitze/577392). The view was breathtaking.

Keeping a smile as we make our way upward...

Above the clouds

Up at the top, near the cross

After hiking, we spent some time in the town of Vaduz, and also hiked up to the castle in that town. The walk up wasn't as bad as the mountain, but was tough as it was very steep. As the royal family still actually lives in the castle, we couldn't go in. We left the town shortly thereafter due to an infestation of Asian tourists pouring out of all parts of tour busses. I have been to Asia, and I have nothing personally against any nationality. However, it is an undeniable fact that the majority of Asians (and by "Asian" I mean the conventional American understanding, which does not include India - but rather Japanese and Chinese mostly) make horrible tourists! They crowd everything, take photos of EVERYTHING and are, by any cultural standard, quite rude. Both W and I were physically pushed out of the way. No "Excuse me". Not even a gesture - I get it you don't speak the language, but a smile and pointing is universal. Nope. You know how two objects cannot occupy the same space? Well, that is super true because when an Asian tourist wants to occupy your space, it's like you don't even exist.

Side note: Yes, I know Americans can make AWFUL tourists. I fully own this. In fact, I can always find my countrymen and women by simpling closing my eyes and listening for the LOUDEST voices - anywhere. Americans traveling tend to be uncouth, poorly dressed, somewhat rude and ridiculously loud and boisterous. That being said, you can usually count on them for at least an "excuse me" or "pardon". They will probably say it loudly while wearing breakaway basketball pants and a t-shirt from Disneyland, but they do say it.

On the way back, I had the pleasure of encountering the inflexibility of the Austrian police. So, to get to Liechtenstein, we drove south in Germany and then crossed through both Switzerland and Austria. My GPS system clearly indicated that we had a toll road on the way, and so W. had Euro ready to pay. On the way down, we didn't notice any sort of toll booth or relevant signage and so made the assumption that maybe somehow we were routed around the toll area. On the way back, we did see a sign or two that looked like this (see below), and so we calculated that we owed something between 4 and 9 Euro. We had cash, we were ready.

Note it does not say where to pay the toll ANYWHERE

We may have even seen a sign or two that looked like this:

Here you can get a Vignette.

Keep in mind that neither of us speak German very well, and even with my lessons all I understood was that this was where someone would "buy a vignette". For my entire life, my understanding of the word vignette has been:

vi·gnette

vinˈyet/

noun

1. 1.

   a brief evocative description, account, or episode.
2. 2.

   a small illustration or portrait photograph that fades into its background without a definite border.

verb

1. 1.

   portray (someone) in the style of a vignette.

Also keep in mind the signs in between countries tend to be woefully small, with the exception of the old Customs crossings. In truth, the signs between Ohio and Pennsylvania are more clear and visible than between Switzerland and Austria, or Austria and Germany. So we're just cruising along and then up ahead I see dividers separating the road into two lanes, with a police officer standing in between. I slow down and W starts getting excited. "I bet they are stopping us to check for refugees!" she exclaimed. (Which does, in fact, make sense - given that many of the refugees sneak into Germany by way of the Austrian border.)

The police officer gives me a stern look and waves me to the right, where I join a queue of other perplexed-looking travelers. I get ready to pop the trunk, and I pull out my EU residency permit just in case. At this point, I sort of ready to be a part of modern day history. Up walks a very stern looking Austrian police officer. I roll down my window and he lets go a stream of very angry German. I try to explain, in German, that I only speak a very little bit of his language and it would be great if he could speak more slowly, when he cuts me off with "Anglisch? Eeeenglish?". I nod, and then he proceeds to lecture me about not paying the toll. Oh, I think - we've got this! I gesture towards W who now has the Euro out and ready.

Austrian police officer was not amused. He asked for my license and registration and tells me (still very sternly) that I do not have the necessary toll sticker. The conversation went a bit like this:

Austrian Police Officer (APO): You do not have a vignette. You need a vignette.
Me: Vignette? I didn't see any signs about a, um, vignette?
APO: Did you not see that this is a toll road?
Me: Yes, we did. That's why we have our money ready.
APO: No, you need a vignette. It clearly says so on the sign.
Me: We saw a sign that said toll road, and how much we were to pay, and --
APO: Did you not see that you need a vignette?
Me: ... I may have seen that word, but I don't know what you mean by it. In English, ---
APO: Vignette! (pauses) Sticker. You need a toll sticker.
Me: Oh! Ok. But it didn't say where to buy one.
APO: You buy it anywhere - gas stations, libraries, stores. Everyone knows this.
Me: ...
APO: You do not have a sticker.
Me: Ok, can I buy one?
APO: No. You must pay 120 Euro fine. Come with me now.

And so I followed the officer to a little trailer they had set up, apparently for just this purpose. I tried to be polite, and asked the officer if he happened to have any examples of the sign we clearly missed, so that I don't make the mistake again in the future. He pulls out a BINDER filled with basically the same picture from different parts of Austria (so clearly, this is not the first time he has gotten this question) and proceeds to flip through it angrily, showing me all the signs. "Even in English!", he yells at one point. I concede, that yes - absolutely - it does say "Toll road" and "Must have vignette" in English. I tried to explain that it does not explain that apparently in Austria, a vignette is not a short story but rather a toll sticker - and also that it says nowhere on any sign where one can purchase said vignettes.

I think this was just too much for him. "YOU CAN BUY AT ANY GAS STATION! LIBRARY! STORE! ANY ONE OF THEM! EVERYONE IS KNOWING THIS!"

I really didn't want to spend the night in an Austrian jail (although W would have loved it because she would have a) taken a pic of me in handcuffs, b) left me there overnight and c) had a great story to tell) so I did not point out that everyone, in fact, is NOT knowing this. I handed over my debit card and returned to my car 120 Euro poorer and with a greater appreciation for the rigid nature of the Germanic culture.

**Side note: a bit of research has shown me that the guy actually DID help me out by only making me pay half the full fine, which is normally 240 Euro; but still. Given that I was driving through Austria for about 7.5 minutes, he could have just let me go with a warning.**

Lesson? Before I travel ANYWHERE again that is outside the small radius of my home/work/airport comfort level, I'm spending some serious time on Google to make sure I don't encounter any more weird shit.

The best part of this? When I told coworkers, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was like "Vignette? Oh yeah, everyone knows all about this. You need it for Austria, and some parts of Switzerland and they are really quite affordable - sometimes just 20 or 30 Euro for a whole year."

In case anyone from the Austrian highway department happens to find my blog, I'd like to share that:

EVERYONE DOES NOT KNOW ALL ABOUT THIS.
VIGNETTE DOES NOT EQUAL STICKER IN THE ENGLISH SPEAKING WORLD.
IF YOU WANT ME TO BUY A STICKER, THEN PUT "GO BUY A STICKER" ON THE SIGN - AND HERE'S A THOUGHT. PERHAPS ADD AN ICON OF A STORE, OR A GAS STATION. THESE ALREADY EXIST. YOU CAN PROBABLY EVEN GET ONE FOR FOR FREE ON GOOGLE OR ASK YOUR BUDDIES WHO MAKE THE EXIT SIGNS.
ALSO, 120 EURO FOR YOUR SIGN BEING BUSTED IS NOT AT ALL A GOOD WAY TO ENCOURAGE TOURISM.

Unbeknownst to me, W was very familiar with this concept, having traveled quite a bit in some Eastern European countries where this was the norm, but even she missed the point of the signs.

But in my defense, VIGNETTE? Come on.
Yes, I did Google translate "toll sticker" and in German it is Vignetten. And I feel you for that, I do. But if you're going to translate it to English, the answer is not to just remove the "n".

So for anyone thinking of driving around Austria, Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Hungary, Moldova, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia or Switzerland, can I just suggest a little light reading?

AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR VIGNETTES!!!

Saturday of Adventures

Since moving to Germany, I've had a rental car. There is an "Autohaus" near my work that offers employees of my company a good deal on monthly rentals. On the upside, it is very economical. On the downside, the cars they offer are limited to either Skodas or Opals - neither of which is my favorite brand. I'm currently driving an Opal Corsa which looks like a pregnant rollerskate and drives about as well.

Now that I've decided that I will most likely drive to/from work - the traffic isn't that bad, and I like being able to leave whenever I want and not be limited by train times - I've decided I need a "real" car. I've done some research and I narrowed my choices down to a BMW, Audi or Volvo. I looked into buying a used car first; this being Germany, it is a bit more complex than at home. Most people save up and just pay outright. It is possible to get a loan from a bank to buy the car, but this is also a bit more complicated than I anticipated. I've been advised that my best option is to finance or lease a new car.

After looking at the various angebote (offers) from the different companies, I decided that I would probably go with an Audi. I looked at Car & Driver, Consumer Reports and Top Gear to try to find the most versatile, fuel-efficient car that was still something that would be comfortable to drive for about 1 1/2 hours every day. I reached out to one Audi dealership - no response. I got lucky on the second try and found a salesman who speaks excellent English. Now, here's how the car buying process differs from the U.S. (I can't speak to the UK as I had a company car while there):

- There is no just show up and look at a car in the showroom. You need an appointment. You can just show up, but you will then be encouraged to... yep, make an appointment.
- I don't know about used car dealers, but with the dealerships, there is no sleazy haggling. Everything is up front and you can see EVERYTHING - the dealer's price, the dealer's commission, etc. I saw with the salesman and built the car I was interested in, and he pointed out every single cost and item.
- There is no hard sell. My entire experience was completely laid back, friendly and similar to what I've experienced the few times I've ventured into super high-class boutiques.
- I wanted to take a couple test drives. You know what came next, right? Yep, I needed to make an appointment. Yes, you read correctly. I was IN the dealership, LOOKING at a car, INTENDING to buy a car in the near future, and they let me leave. I now have an appointment on the 5th for my test drives.

The whole experience was quite pleasant, and I'm still looking for the "catch". I have everything printed out and will share with some German colleagues next week for their opinion - is it a good deal, is the interest rate right, etc - but so far, I'm quite pleased. I wasn't intending to sign any papers today, but even still, it made me happy that I didn't get any pressure to do so whatsoever.

While chatting with my salesman, I mentioned that my next purchase would be a city bike (stadt fahhrad). He directed me to a really quaint bike shop around the corner, which had been in business for the past 93 years. I was able to explain - in German! - that I was there to look at a ladies' city bike - and I was able to understand the directions to go to the back showroom and ask for help. I ended up finding a really cool bike for a great price (it being end of season here). The best part was that they insist you try it out before you buy it and so I hopped on to take a short ride. I know you never forget how to ride a bike, but I haven't been on one in any real capacity in probably 25 years or something. Those first few seconds were mighty wobbly!

I apparently lucked out into finding a "real German's" bike shop - as they do not normally serve tourists or expats. The man who helped me knew enough English for us to communicate and what I loved is that he helped me find a bike perfect for my midget height.

And... and... a BASKET! AND A BELL! The bike also has lights, but I don't find those nearly as exciting as a BASKET AND A BELL! In my head, I'm already zooming all through the streets of Frankfurt, happily ringing my bell, with a basket full of fresh fruit and bread. (Don't ask me why I have this image in particular - I blame too many subtitled foreign films). They customize the seat and all the other stuff, so I'll be able to pick the bike up when I'm back from my travels - either on the 5th or the 19th, whichever works best for me.

This is the style of bike I have. There will be a basket on the front :)

You would think that was enough excitement for one day, but no!

As I've mentioned,  my good friend W. has encouraged me to sign up for the Berlin half-marathon in April of next year. As it has been a good two years since I was running on a regular basis, I decided to ease into my training with a 10k training plan. I use the Nike app, which so far has been pretty good. Each day I have something to do - whether it is run, run/walk, cross train or rest. Today was my first big day - 8.04km.

After getting back from the bike store, I made a sandwich and did some laundry. I then changed into my running gear for my big adventure. According to my Nike coach, I was to alternate between running and walking - run 1K, walk 1K and so on. I have been curious about the path along the river, so I decided to run that way - forgetting that it was Saturday (aka tourists everywhere in the city center). I headed out of my flat and all was good until I hit the Zeil area. This is the main shopping (and thus tourist) area. I walked my first 1K and then shifted to running. This became a bit like my own version of frogger - only instead of cars, I was dodging clueless tourists. About halfway through the run, I had to switch to a fast walk because there was just no room to go. Once I got to the river, I noted my time and adjusted when I walked and ran to make up for the switch, ensuring that I had an even balance at the end. The path along the river is really pretty but not very long. I ran to the end one way, and then almost to the end another way. I think if I cross the bridge towards Sachenhausen, then the path may go on longer. I'm okay as long as I'm doing under 10k, but when my half marathon training begins in earnest, if I want to be outside, I'll have to find more places to run. There's a gorgeous park near my house, but I exhausted that path just doing 6k.

So on my way home, I decided to stop into the local gym. I'd been trading emails with them for a couple weeks and - yep, you guessed it - they kept asking me to make an appointment. I never got around to it, but I thought I'd take my chances on just showing up. Worst thing that could happen was that I would be asked to make an appointment.

The gym is very small but fully equipped - treadmills, elliptical, weights, TRX, etc. In addition, as part of the membership, I will get 3 initial sessions with a trainer - session 1 has me do a circuit to evaluate my overall fitness, session 2 has the trainer give me exercises and a plan to maximize what I want to do and session 3 is a calibration session to see if everything is working. Then I have a session every 3 months to track my progress and make any necessary adjustments. The price was really surprising - just 59 Euro/month - and the nice manager also gave me access to the new club in Bornheim that has a sauna and swimming pool - and is just 15 min drive (or about 25 min bike ride) away.

I'm trying to run outside - as the half marathon will be outside - but for the colder months, it will be nice to have somewhere to go inside. In addition, I really need to work on my cross-training. I have resistance bands and weights at home, but I can really do with some concentrated weight training and core work. I have missed this since I left the UK as my personal trainer Andy used to really put me through my paces, and it made a huge difference to my overall fitness level.

Last weekend I had my first guests in (yay, E. and A.!) and while we had a brilliant time, I am not sure I can go hard again. There is a music event tonight featuring greatest hip hop of the 2000s - and I'm very tempted to go - but I'm still aching in weird places after busting several moves last weekend. (For anyone curious, this is where we were: www.cookys.de.) A and I were trying to teach E how to drop it. I believe there even was a pretzel involved as a prop. Suffice it to say we weren't entirely successful, but I got a hell of a workout doing all those squatting moves.

And so now I'm home, after what was the most amazing hot shower. (Something about showering after exercise... so very, very nice. Although nothing beats the shower I took after the Mudathalon a few years ago - that was like a religious experience). My big plans for the evening include ordering in sushi and a combination of catching up on some shows on my iPad and reading.  Good times :)

Turkish Delight & Other Adventures - Part 2, SO MUCH FUN!

So, finally, I get around to updating my adventures in Turkey. I had the best time on this vacation, and I highly recommend Sarigerme to any of you planning future travel.

I <3 td="" turkey="">

Highlights from the trip include:

1. I JUMPED OFF A MOUNTAIN!
2. I JUMPED OFF A FREAKING MOUNTAIN!
3. I JUMPED OFF A HOT DIGGITY DOGGITY MAMA SAY MAMA SAH MAMAMAFUSAH MOUNTAIN, Y'ALL!

Straight kickin it about 6,500 feet in the air. No big deal...

My good friend Wendi got me to not only sign up for paragliding, but to actually do it. Which, for me, is a HUGE thing. I'm a big fan of say, standing in line for the roller coaster, totally intending to do it, and then getting to the front and just flipping up deuces and bouncing. For me to get all the way up the mountain (in truth, the van ride up was far more scary than the trip down - have they never heard of guardrails?!), stand on the side of the mountain, watch other people run off the side of the mountain, and STILL then run off the damn mountain myself ... well let me just say I ended up surprising myself. I wasn't convinced I was going to do it until I was actually, in fact, doing it. There was a moment where my body and mind disconnected - mind was going "ok, ok, we can do this" and body was going "HELL TO THE NO, ARE YOU CRAZY?!" and that's when I stopped running and tried to just stop. Thank goodness they have a "helper" who pulls you and the guide along to ensure that you actually do, indeed, get off the mountain.

Hi, that's me! Off the mountain! And my SUPER SUPER patient guide Baris.

This is me, in all my paragliding glory...

Aside from JUMPING OFF A MOUNTAIN, I also discovered a love of all things catamaran.

I am normally not a huge fan of boats. I get on one and the refrain from Gilligan's Island comes to mind. I start humming "Three hour tour" over and over again. When I was on a boat tour in Dubrovnik, I got horribly sick after we transferred to a smaller boat. When I was on a boat tour in Hong Kong, I spent most of it either head between my knees or sick in the tiny bathroom. I was determined that this trip would be different, so I came equipped with Bonine. A lot of Bonine.

Me after Bonine. 

The first boat trip we took was a 12-island tour leaving from Gocek. I absolutely loved this trip. The water was stunning and we had a great time with our guide, Kenan. The worst part about the trip was all the other people on the boat. We were surrounded by very loud and annoying tourists, several of them with children who seemed to be hopped up on a combination of meth, sugar and helium. This is not intended to be a complaint about children in general - as we happened to meet a very nice family from the north of England who had the most delightful daughters; rather, I'm pointing out that there were very SPECIFIC children who seemed to have zero adult supervision. Running through a boat up and down stairs which are wet and slippery is just asking for an accident. These kids were all over this boat, playing tag, throwing things, splashing everyone and everything - and there was nary a responsible adult in sight. I spent most of my time in the water trying to avoid the havoc.

The water. So beautiful.

I loved the boat trip so much, I was super happy to do the catamaran tour. We heard about the tour from our new best friend, Ahmet. Ahmet works for the hotel and his job is to sell water sports. He stopped by every day just to say hi and to enable me to practice my horrible German. I should say that maybe the reason Ahmet was our friend for life was that I tried out the few words of Turkish I know - those being, "Hello", "Thank You" and "I love you".

This was our boat capitan - Yugel aka Das Kapitan

This would be Ahmet.

And I found that put me on a catamaran and I'm happy happy happy times a thousand. I think I like being closer to the water and the sense of control that offers. I also like that it goes fast with the wind, but not too fast. Of course, Wendi's favorite part had to have been when I was stretched out catching the sun and we hit a huge wave and I got completely drenched.

El Capitan (of the catamaran), Wendi and me - and yes, I AM rocking the life jacket. Don't hate.

I learned this trip that I need to be near water, much more often. I also look a lot better with a little bit of sun. Considering I regularly slather myself with SPF 50, I'm usually the color of Casper the Friendly Ghost. But the Turkish sun meant that I somehow got to be the color of a semi-healthy individual. I didn't really burn - except for the top of my left foot (yeah, weird, I know). But now I want to be near the sun all the time so I look reasonably alive.

Other highlights from the trip include:

- The weird waiter guy who gave off a definite creeper vibe and who seemed to pop up everywhere and kept inviting us to town - we kept saying no.
- The time we went to the Blue Lagoon and on the way back our tour bus got into a wreck with a car because one of the passengers decided to open the left hand back door - without looking. That was fun.
- The time we were on the tour bus with a guy from England who KNEW EVERYTHING. No joke. No matter what the subject, he KNEW ALL ABOUT IT. Wendi cracked me up by pointing out that for someone who had been coming to Turkey for like 10 years (he shared this with the whole bus), he somehow had yet to learn about sunscreen
- The time I played DJ and danced all over an empty dance floor while Wendi controlled the smoke machine and I drank too much and woke up the next day feeling like I had been beaten in my sleep
- The time we all jumped off the boat and ended up leaving Ahmet in charge - and he had been drinking - and we were all sort of scared the boat wouldn't come back.
- Me realizing that I really, really, REALLY need swimming lessons. Upside: I taught myself to swim at age 12 and I can keep myself afloat. Downside: I have no idea how to actually properly swim in the ocean - thus, the life jacket.

I would love to go back to Sarigerme. I had such a great time. I relaxed, learned a great deal about myself and I JUMPED OFF A MOTHERTRUCKING MOUNTAIN!!!

View from Baba Dag - the mountain we paraglided off. No words.

Oh, Happy Day!

Today is a good day. Why? Because today, I finally have a couch in my apartment. When I moved over, I sold/gave away my older furniture with the plan of purchasing new furniture in Germany. Once I found my apartment, and knew the measurements, I promptly went - in June - to buy a couch and a spare bed. In America, I would have had both of them within 2 weeks at the latest.

This being Germany, I was told 10-12 weeks was the absolute fastest anything could show up. So I marked my calendar and about 9 weeks in, began following up. At this point I was told 12-14 weeks due to "summer holidays". Thank goodness I had kept all my email conversations and a copy of my contract- both of which stated 10-12 weeks being guaranteed. And thank goodness I have such a nice co-worker who took the time to call the furniture store and negotiate a delivery for when I was in town, and for when before my first guests arrived.

And so today, I now have my guest bed and my couch all set up and ready. While the deliverymen came almost 1/2 hour early, they were by far the nicest deliverymen I've had so far. They even tried to pull a couple jokes - and yes, they were German! When I let the first guy in, I explained that I was sorry, but that I only spoke a bit of German. I was proud of myself for saying this correctly in German. He then said no problem, and wanted to confirm that he was here to bring me my refrigerator, wardrobe and sink. When he saw my look of utter confusion, he then started laughing uproariously - and then explained, he was just kidding and that he had my bed and couch.

While he was bringing in the bed, enter my landlady. I'd just like to say I hit the landlady lottery. She lives on the 1st floor and saw the delivery truck. Remembering all my drama with boxes and boxes and boxes, she had come up to ensure that the deliverymen did their job this time, and actually took away all the packaging materials. She had quite a firm discussion with them about this - and I could tell that even the deliverymen were appalled that the boxes had been left with me before. My landlady then explained about various meter readings and maintenance events coming up, and wanted to make sure I was okay as she never sees me. I told her that I travel quite a bit, and I tend to leave early in the morning for work. She then had a look around my flat and complimented me on my furniture and was sure to let me know it was fine to hang pictures. Otherwise, my house would be naked (direct quote). And no one is wanting a naked house!

The couch is here! And it has a drawer and it also folds into a bed.. and yes, I need pictures on the wall, I know.

One of the delivery men also felt the need to show me several YouTube clips, which were of German public figures trying to speak English and not doing the greatest job. To be fair, their English was better than my German, but this guy thought it was the funniest thing ever and seemed a bit crestfallen that I didn't share in his extreme enjoyment.

The jokes continued when they tried to tell me that the second part of my couch was not gray, as ordered, but actually red. They were able to keep a straight face for about 3 seconds until my landlady actually smacked one of them on the arm with a piece of paper and told him to be nice. I ended up tipping them 20 Euro - for timeliness, cleanliness and also for overall entertainment value.
__

I think I've referenced my desire to try to take a more positive outlook on life. I'm generally a positive person but I suffer a bit from getting overly frustrated and angry. As part of an overall overhaul of many things (diet, exercise, stress level, etc), I've been trying to see the positive of every situation and not get bent out of shape by stupid things.

This morning, I went to the bank to take out the money for my delivery. I was told by the furniture company that cash was preferred as not every delivery driver would accept card. As a side note, I find the whole cash on delivery model pretty odd - especially considering a driver could end up with a healthy amount of cash in a given day - but apparently this is totally normal.

So I walked to my local Deutsche Bank. As the banks here keep super (in)convenient hours of 09:00 - 12:00 and then 13:00 - 16:00, I needed to go on a day when I was working from home. The walk to the bank is about 6 minutes and it is through leafy streets in my neighborhood. I got to the bank, and when I walked in, I was immediately greeted by this young German man and given a sunflower. He then proceeded to rattle off about 3 minutes of German not seeming to notice my completely confused face. I finally interjected to explain my limited language skills and to tell him that I was pretty sure he was trying to get me to fill out a survey about my account but that I had no idea why I had a sunflower. He switched to English and did confirm that they were trying to better their branch, and wanted feedback on customer experience. At no time, however, did he explain why he was handing out sunflowers. So now I have a sunflower.

I went to the counter, and in my best Germlish, explained that I needed to make a withdrawal from my account and here is my account number. All was well until I was asked for my passport. I pulled out my license only to be told that a driver's license is not considered proper ID in Germany and that they absolutely needed my passport.

I share this story because at this point I had two choices.

Choice A would have been to argue, be frustrated, let off a bit of passive aggressive snarkiness and stomp back to my flat, complaining to myself (and others) the entire way.

Choice B would have been to smile, thank the cashier for her help, and enjoy the walk back to my flat to get the passport - appreciating that it happens to be a beautiful day and that I'm seeing an area near where I live that I haven't seen before.

Choice A has been my default for a very, very long time. So today, I deliberately went with Choice B.

And I know this sounds really, really silly to a lot of you reading this, but Choice B was SO EASY!!! Yes, it was extra time. Yes, I had to hustle a bit to make it back in time for the delivery. And yes, it is a bit annoying that Germany doesn't take driver's license as a suitable form of ID. But I can't solve that, and getting upset was going to do me no good.

So I walked back and forth, kept a smile on my face and ended up making a nice contact at the local bank. And getting not 1, but 2 sunflowers! AND, I got a good look at the ubiquitous cigarette machines and gumball (?) machines which seem to be on every other corner.

Yep, These are everywhere. To buy them just swipe your ID. Germans LOVE cigarettes.

Looks like a gumball machine... not sure why it is hanging out on street corners.

___

Oh, and in other news, I also registered myself for the Berlin half-marathon next April.
So there's that...
___

Oh, Deutschland

Last night I was driving home from a work dinner, and as I pulled up to a light I noticed a German police car in the opposite lane. The policeman in the car flashed his lights and waved at me to stop. I did. He made the universal roll down your window sign. I complied, only to be greeted with about 40 German words which all sounded very bad, and very much like I might be seeing the inside of a German jail cell. My heart was racing as I tried to calculate what I could have done wrong.

When I explained that I only speak a little German, so sorry, the police officer actually laughed and tried again in what I have come to refer to 3-year old German: "Lichts! Nicht Auf!"

My lights weren't on.

I turned on my headlights and got a thumbs up from the police officer and then a friendly wave as I drove away.
___

This morning, I walked out of my apartment only to be nearly run down by an older man in very short shorts and a tank top (keep in mind it is about 12 degrees out - which is 54 for my American friends) riding a unicycle. A mothertrucking for real actual unicycle.

Let's all just take a moment to appreciate this. Seven a.m. Chilly. And this 60 year old dude in a Richard Simmons getup is rocking a UNICYCLE down my street.
__

This morning I also learned that Germany doesn't do coffee. Rather, Germany does coffee but only itty-bitty tiny espresso versions. I greatly confused the lady in the canteen with my seemingly preposterous request for a large coffee. No, not an espresso. No, not a cafe creme. No, not a macchiato. Just coffee. A large, piping hot, delicious vat of coffee. It seems her machine just didn't make that. I tried suggesting an Americano - espresso + hot water - only to be told that they had no hot water (which I found decidedly odd as they also served tea). A man in line behind me offered to help - and after a bit of back and forth with the woman behind the counter, I ended up with what would be a Starbucks tall-sized coffee in my hand - and lots of weird looks, as apparently Germans like their coffee in munchkin size only.

Technology and Loss: A Reflection

More about my adventures in Turkey are forthcoming, but I needed to take a moment to reflect. I was digging through my email earlier today looking for my account number for my German internet provider and something in my search terms ended up pulling up loads of emails from my mom.

As I'm sure many of you know, she died in 2012 from rapid-onset lung cancer. What I haven't been so vocal in sharing is that in the 12-18 months leading up to her death, she and I had become somewhat estranged. My mom was an alcoholic, and could either be my biggest supporter or worst critic - depending on how much she had to drink on any given day. My entire life, I stayed close to her and let most of the inconsistency roll off me - after all, she was my mom, and the only one I'd ever have. I supported her through her divorce from my first stepfather (who she married when I was 3, and who was basically my father figure growing up); I supported her through her tumultuous marriage and then her divorce from my second stepfather (who she married when I was in my early 20s, and who is still an important person in my life). I was there as the glue trying to patch together the broken and battered relationship between her and my siblings. I was there when she went to rehab, and emerged - both times - promising to do better, to not drink, to pull herself together. I was also there for her when - after stopping by unannounced for a visit while in Cincinnati - I found her passed out in a room of old food and wall-to-wall bottles, covered in her own filth. I cleaned the house, did laundry, and sobered her up enough to shower and change. I was there when my brother called to tell me that he had stopped by and found her passed out again, the house a complete disaster.

At some point, I just broke down. I loved my mom so very, very much but I just could not continue. She was breaking my heart, day after day. My biggest fear was that I'd get a call that she was in jail, or beaten outside a bar or - even worse - dead from liver failure. I had been living abroad for about a year, and was trying to make a life for myself. I just - well, I just could not, ... not anymore.

And so I broke off communication. I defriended her on Facebook. I stopped sending emails. I couldn't cut the cord entirely, so I did send the odd couple hundred dollars here or there - never enough that she could get in real trouble, but enough to keep her eating if she was struggling. During Christmas of 2011, we struck up a tentative reconcilliation - each of us suddenly shy around the other, and unsure of what to say. We began emailing again and talking on the phone. Things seemed good. And then, in late February or early March, she went silent. She would disappear for days at a time and then her replies would be erratic and odd. My first - and only - thought was that she was drinking again. And so, I stepped away. Then, on the 3rd of July, 2012 while in town for a friend's birthday, I picked up the voicemail that would change everything. I still remember how it began - "Erin, it's the mom. Please call me. I'm in the hospital and I'm sick. I promise it has nothing to do with drinking." I called back only to discover that she had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and was given less than 6 months to live. She hadn't been drinking, or ignoring me. She had been so sick that she couldn't get out of bed.

She died 7 days later, on what would have been her 58th birthday.

As I read through the old emails today, I saw everything through a different light. Her emails to me towards the end of 2011 and beginning of 2012 are suddenly clear and poignant, full of self-reflection and honesty and apology. They have a clarity that could only have come from sobriety. Reading them now is both comforting (to "hear" her voice again) and heartbreaking - oh, how I miss her so very, very much. I am weighed down by the enormity of all the things I never said - and all the things I should have said. I wish I had added her again as a friend on Facebook because she loved following my life. I know she was very proud of me, and yet I shut her out. I wish I had answered her emails, or picked up the phone.

I am so glad that I found these messages. Reading through them, it has become abundantly clear that I have only just begun to grieve - and that the tears I'm shedding today are but the smallest drops of a river that will flow from me until the day I, too, say goodbye to this world.