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Just had post PRK post op appointment #2. Next visit is in 2 months. Thus far I am
one satisfied customer. Since Dr. Hyver
is in Santa Clara, I took this South bay
appointment as a reason to get some exercise at my beloved Rancho San Antonio
Park in Los Altos. W and I used to go there all the
time, including holidays like Thanksgiving, to talk and hike and look at the
creatures, bunnies, deer, birds of all kinds. It’s one of the things I miss most about the Cupertino home-Rancho San Antonio. Most of my friends no longer live in our old hood, save the one who is buried at rest near the
park gates at Gates of Heaven cemetery.
Today’s primary motivation? The fact that I already
registered and forked over some $$ for the first sprint Triathlon of the
season. Now I seriously have to get consistent about training. Despite my
many years of visiting this park, I have never, ever run in it. Too hilly.
Strenuous enough just to walk it. But
today, I figure a long hike with some short burst runs would do me good.
In HerSports magazine, one competitive athlete mentioned the
boost to her performance once she hired a professional trainer. She shared that the key piece of advice was: her trainer said the human mind can only focus on 3 things at a time, max. So to stay concentrated on just a few actions
when you train. She wrote about focusing
her mind on say, “keep your arms in the right position”, or “go for speed.”
In that case, those with sub-clinical, or full blown
attention deficit problems such as my own, are pretty screwed. Focus. OK. I
start out focusing on the breath. In
through the nose, out through the mouth. Feel it move deep into the very base of the lungs. Ahhhh.
Now focus on the muscles warming up in your legs. Calves are
going, thighs engaging, hips opening up, keep the ankles supple yet strong…
And then my mind takes off into its own galloping tour.
I did hike. And I ran at least halfway as
well. But here’s a tour of the
free-associating, non-diligent training mind:
Rancho San Antonio…It’s
green, the plant leaves are tender new shoots, stream is running what a peaceful
sound. In a month or two it will be dry as heck, dusty, this is perfect. Shadows and light, natural EMDR. Wonder if Nathiya would tolerate the long ass
hike to come up here and take photos of this. There is a little farm here, piglets and sheep, a garden featuring "lambs ears" fuzzy leaves I can’t resist stroking
If one encounters a mountain lion “appear as large as
possible” W and I thought that as so funny. What could we do? Spread out our
jackets and do jumping jacks?
Listening for mountain lions, try to stop imagining the
giant cat bounding out of the bushes. Remember the size of that paw we saw on the Puma in Salinas
I wonder if I totally ruined these trail runners already in Nicaragua? Probably gonna pay for this manana. I read its healthiest to go barefoot anyways
Check out that older man who is fit as all get out. Dang. Could
kick anyone’s ass, I hope I am a fraction like that in my 50’s. Hmm. I guess
chest hair starts to go gray eventually too.
Remember the day W and I hiked in winter and each blade of
grass glistened with frost like a magical wonderland. It was like something from Pan’s labyrinth. Or the time we saw a real wildcat- muscular
creature stalking the shore of the little stream, it was like a speel that such a
creature was here with us,we feel silent, enthralled
Listening for rattlesnakes, remember W, how that man waving
a branch and yelling was actually scarier than the snake he was freaking out
about?!
Every potential boyfriend has been dragged up and down this trail, W always
laughed at the one who complained practically the whole time. This place in
my mind is always about W, and is maybe a rite of passage for the boys in our
lives. Jo and I always come too every
time she comes back from Taipei.
We take photos at the top of Wildcat loop. Look- there’s Shoreline ampitheatre,
over there the giant jello- mold looking hangars of Moffett. A reddish haired man I once cared for lived near here, he had a bit of a breakdown, I wonder how his mind is these days, and his kind mom.
Quail. How did we
come up with such a totally dorky state bird? One can understand the Bald eagle, but quail? They
are truly adorable, and dang loud for such a tiny thing. Bravely standing watch and screaming to the
others who are foraging.
I can’t help
but smile at that little dark bobble thing on their heads.
Doing, doing, doing.
How can anyone take seriously this teardrop shaped dingly thing at the top of
its head…then again perhaps it does suit
California
well. Beautiful and odd. Wow, that dude is pushing his kid up the trail in a race stroller-I’ve pushed run strollers before but that thing is like a 4 wheel drive buggy of a stroller, she is CUTE, Dad is straining up the path. Trying not to step on lizards remembering Siggy from
Germany, she was SO fascinated with the common lizard,
told me she’d never seen such a thing for it was far too cold in
Germany. Hope
my knee holds up with all this pounding, going downhill now and imagine rolling
uncontrollably if I trip
Thinking about Nathiya’s photo of a squirrel, and my own
photo of a bushy tailed birdfeeder raider-and then as if I am hallucinating, I
see something shaped like a squirrel a the side of the trail – but the SIZE of
a lizard.
Stop running and stare. Oh!
It’s the bittiest stripey chipmunk I have ever seen! Less than a third of the size of the insane
robber chipmunks atop
Lassen peak.
Now an observation of a fellow hiker…how does one get a huge
spare tire yet still have no ass? Must be some kind of white thing…
The time W and I hiked so late it was pitch dark, and a
creature prowling across the path scared the crap out of us.
I stretch out on the steel bars at the end of trail. A Latino man who said “hola!hola!” to me on
the trail notes “you are very elastic.” We chat a bit, his calf muscle has cramped up, I recommend yoga and more
stretching to him.
My next stop? The infamous
Coffee Society where I tease the barista about their frequent whipped cream
shortages. “I need full fat,” I say “does
the owner lock up the cream chargers because you guys abuse them?!” Remember
learning that one can get high as a kite of the N2O in a professional grade whipped
cream canister. “We don’t abuse drugs at
Coffee Society, we just Use them, not abuse them” he responds with a smirk.
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