YoUnger Men in the News

My guys are making headlines!!!

Howard (Yo)Unger has a piece in today's New York Times on the Hash House Harriers.

Jeff Young(er) bared his geek side in a quote in the Raleigh News & Observer.

Craig Young(er) had a quote in an Engineering News Record article from last Fall (though he just discovered it this week while googling his own name!).

Love Those Keens

I'm continuing my homage theme with an ode to the Keen Targhee. Craig and I both christened our Targhees (as seen in this photo) on a backpacking trip to Mt. Rogers Nat'l Rec Area this past weekend. Despite ~16 miles of rocky, rugged trail, we both remained blister free. This is particularly impressive given that neither of us had made an effort to break in our shoes prior to the trip. Better yet, they feel and are as lightweight as sneakers. Keens rock!

The other interesting tidbit about our trip was that we got to see a recent prescribed burn in the vicinity of Rhododendron Gap. Many believe the natural fire regime is part of what's responsible for the mountain balds in this area. I look forward to going back next year to see the regrowth.

You can view the rest of our trip photos here.

White Lake, How I'll Miss You

In the spirit of homages, I will use this blog entry to honor the White Lake Half-Ironman triathlon, with which I have had a love-hate relationship these last few years. This morning, I finally admitted to myself that since I'm barely ready to run my first mile after my ITBS flare-up, there is no way I can be ready to run 13.1 miles in only six weeks. So, I dropped out of the race.

Considering I've said "I'm never doing that again!" after each of my previous four finishes, you would think I wouldn't be too upset about this. However, I'm bummed. To me, White Lake represents hanging in there when times are tough. My first race, back in 2003, had record-breaking temperatures and I wound up getting fluids by IV after the race. The second year wasn't much better, and I again suffered dehydration and cramps. The third year, it was so cold that I lost feeling in my hands and feet during the swim. Last year, the conditions were OK, but the weight I'd gained made it a challenge.

To honor my favorite/least favorite race, I will leave you with the finish line shot of my first White Lake triathlon and a snippet from that year's race report. Perhaps I'll be back another time....

Miles 11 and 12 were the worst -- out on the beating hot shoulder of the highway, most racers already off the course, headache, nausea.... soul-searching time. That's when I remembered "swim, bike, run, FINISH." I was already 45 minutes beyond my estimated finish time (which was nothing to be impressed about to start with!) and I really didn't care. All that mattered was crossing the finish line. I understood – at some point, it's not about racing anymore and having a certain finish time. It's about sticking with something hard, pushing your body to its limits, and discovering how strong you are.

Birthday Homage

With nothing of my own to report this week, I'm using this blog entry as an homage to my co-worker and friend, Cary Rowells, who is celebrating his 40th birthday today. When not serving as the GIS analyst for my department at work, Cary is the bass player for the doom metal band, Confessor. Although you may not have heard of them, they have been around since the 1980s and have quite a following in Scandinavia. As a testament to their durability, they have even survived an "article for deletion" debate at Wikipedia.

These photos show Cary with his bandmates back in the '80s and more recently. He takes the ribbing about his former big hair and current lack thereof in stride.

I have two stories about Cary to share on his birthday. The first took place at another co-worker's housewarming party, which I attended with Craig and my old housemate, Jenn. Jenn, upon meeting Cary for the first time and having heard about him for several years, exclaimed, "you're her favorite!!!" This was slightly uncomfortable given that Cary was one of several folks, including the party host, who report to me at work. Cary quickly took advantage of my blushing and further pointed out, "well, perhaps I'm second now," in reference to Craig and my recently-made-public romance. He's a quick wit.

The second story is from my recent vacation in the Florida Keys. I used my cell phone to take a photo of Craig in a tropical setting and sent it to Cary with the text message, "Get back to work!" Cary, of course, quickly topped our humor. He replied with this photo of himself at Craig's desk with the message, "Don't hurry back!"

Happy birthday, Cary!!!

Cranky!

Cranky, cranky, cranky me! After successfully keeping a flare up of my iliotibial band sydrome (ITBS) at bay for more than two years, it's back, and in both legs. Everything about the Coach Bubba 20K a couple of weeks ago seemed wrong... from side stiches to quad pain, I just felt off from the start. Little did I know, I was re-triggering the injury that almost sidelined me from Ironman Wisconsin in 2004.

Anyone who witnessed my whiny, indulgent, self-pitying behavior back then will feel sympathy for my incredibly tolerant husband. Poor Craig is being encouraging and bringing me ice-packs and coming up with rehab plans that will slowly get me back on my feet. But I don't want recovery to go s-l-o-w-l-y! I am Instant Gratification Girl with an endorphin addiction and this just bites! As my parents like to point out, it is a good thing I married a man who, "has the patience of Job."

Big Hair/Mustache

I have the most creative friends! This is Julie, host of the annual "Big Hair/Mustache Party," donning a "hostess with the mostest" look from the 1970s. I have no idea where she got the idea for this party, but her friends have embraced it, Craig and I included...

Craig went for a Johnny Depp pirate mustache, while I opted for punk hair.

Yes, it's purple, but temporary.

Peanut Butter

Today is National Peanut Butter Lovers Day - a celebration for people like me who could (if they weren't dieting) eat an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting... people who (used to) order regularly from Peanut Butter & Co....

But enough pining for the peanuty yumminess. I have a peanut butter anecdote...

While traveling in New Zealand a few years ago, my friend, Jenn, and I were staying in a little B&B in a small tourist town on the coast of the South Island. Our hosts, shown in this photo, were thrilled to have some "Yanks" visiting. At breakfast, they remembered they had some peanut butter we might enjoy. (For those unaware, we Yanks seem to be the only folks in the world who like peanut butter - in most other countries, people think of it as we do of vegemite.) I happily accepted the jar, spread some PB on a cracker, and took a huge bite. When I started gagging, Jenn took a closer look at the jar. Clearly, very few Yanks visit this B&B, because the peanut butter was about 10 years old. At the rate I eat the stuff, I had no idea it could go bad!

So here's to yummy, non-expired peanut butter. Happy National Peanut Butter Lovers Day!!!