sidebar | life and training 9.26 – 10.2
We should have been demolished.
Yet somehow, we once again saw little more than snapped trees and broken stop signs, not shattered homes or flooded streets. We emerged to leaves on our windshields, but windshields intact; not pool screens shredded and age old palms uprooted. Our waterways speckled by lively boat owners celebrating our near-miss, rather than ever-rising waterlines from dams opened and surges climbing up the futile seawalls.
I like to be positive here. I don’t enjoy catastrophe porn, I avoid it on news outlets, I switch away from channels eating up sad stories because it gains viewers and makes money. If you are one to do so as well, please feel free to skip this narrative. I won’t be offended. All the rest of the scheduled content lies below.
Sometimes, events hit you different. Hurricane Ian will not be a trend hashtag, not for me. Englewood was my hometown, Port Charlotte my stomping ground, Fort Myers a place I interned. My perception of the region, which I have not visited for upwards of a decade, is now a mirage. Any memory I had is leveled, drowned, to be replaced by a territory with which I am fully unfamiliar.
I’ve dodged three major hurricanes in my conscious lifetime: Charley, Irma, and now Ian. Charley burst through Captiva Island – at the time I lived in Englewood, so it was a near-miss – Irma swung down to Naples, and Ian plowed through Captiva Island again and ravaged Fort Myers. During the latter pair I resided in Tampa.
Don’t mistake me. My gratitude is immense for my home(s) shunning damage in all three cases. Probably others, too, but I don’t remember them. However, along with that humbleness is a form of survivor’s guilt. I should have been among those scrambling to find gas, seeking businesses magnanimous enough to open their doors and their inventories, one of those wondering when power would be restored and I could stand in front of a cold air conditioning stream, or shit, even find signal enough to text my family telling them I’m okay. Physically. Psychologically, a different story.
Instead, I listened to a later-moot evacuation order and huddled in a nearby hotel to wade out the storm, as many others from Hillsborough and Pinellas Counties chose to do. While we were cloistered from what wound up being severe, but manageable, weather, those in the south could do nothing but perhaps flee to Miami or West Palm – most of them had nowhere to go, so they dug their feet into the ground, hauled boards against their windows, and pulled all their precious belongings into closets and bathrooms in hopes that something might be preserved.
Hillsborough established a mandatory evacuation order for Zone A, where I live, on Monday, when Ian’s track still pointed right at Tampa Bay. By Tuesday, the track shifted southward dramatically, but most hotels in the area were booked, and assuredly by Tuesday night nothing was available from Brandon to Orlando. Meaning, when Fort Myers issued a mandatory evacuation order on Tuesday afternoon, you gotta fucking get out of here NOW, the people had nowhere to go but the innermost rooms of their house.
So while I rested in a hotel, checking the advisories, garbed in my coziest pajamas eating warm rice and beans, the people down south heard branches crack from the trunks of trees and collapse onto rooves. Heard rising floodwaters tap on their doors like liquid fingernails. Will never shake the sound of 150 mph winds out of their ears.
Why is it that hurricanes set their sights on Tampa Bay, but change their mind last minute and jog elsewhere (usually south)? I’m sure we’ve plenty of scientific explanations, and I accept them wholly. However, some speculate the Native American mounds in Safety Harbor were blessed by the Tocobagans which resided there long before us. A spiritual shield exists in the region, and natural disasters have nowhere to go but elsewhere. As someone who believes forces outside logical understanding often drive the paths of my own life and the lives around me, I cannot help but wonder if we’re being embraced by a power I do not comprehend.
That does not quell the conflict of gratitude vs. guilt. I do not really know how to identify the overarching emotion. I am not attached to my hometown; the whole area is rather fraught, yet it remains the place of my origin regardless of how I feel towards it. There’s a certain finality in its destruction. I did not plan to return in my lifetime, and now I assuredly won’t. A rebuilt city is not its predecessor, but something new, of which I have no part.
I may not make peace with my feelings for awhile. I will never understand the salvation of one area and the chaos of another. Call it what you will, a formula or a miracle, but no doubt those of us up north are very, very lucky that Ian turned. I for one cannot celebrate that fortune. I toast to it, yet I mourn it. I’ve a hard time watching suffering when I feel the sufferer should’ve been me.
Until I figure it out, when I’m far enough removed that thought can replace feeling, I can only hope for peace in the fragments, and our continued fortune. I can only appreciate a standing home, a comfy bed, a morning awakened by an alarm and the flicker of my living room light, a running path unmarred. I can only move forward with my own life without letting these tragedies stop it from continuing, even though I wonder if its fair that I can do so and others can’t
The Fuck We Eating This Week?
…Some spooky Halloween cupcakes.
…A cheesy autumnal pizza
…A festive, filling chopped salad.
…A sweet and unique fall sangria.
A Few Things I’m Digging
Everything seasoning…I’m on a taste kick here. Lately been enjoying everything hummus and my Everything Parmesan Pumpkin Beer Pretzels. Garlic and onion might suck for your breath, but they sure taste good.
Rose oil…A week into the revered Biossance Vitamin C Squalane and Rose Oil and I am in love. My skin looks and feels plump the next morning and the smell is soothing and floral. I also like the Copper Peptide Plumping Serum sample so far, though it legit does smell metallic which is a bit weird.
Cereal of the week…Cinnamon French Toast Frosted Flakes. Oh yes.
The Burgundy Edit
Anything wine-hued channels autumnal coziness. Below are some pieces I love for the season!
Shops & Wish List
Fashion
Target…Seeking this open layering cardigan but it sells out super fast whenever it comes back in stock. Comfy jeans and a tee are the name of the game here, but could also make a slip dress more casual by slinging this overtop. Really like the cable pattern on this quarter zip sweater. Been wanting to style some burgundy into my wardrobe, but more with accessories. The soft-textured refined crossbody bag is the perfect size for a quick errand or for nighttime, could see this working really well with certain plaid color schemes, and a corduroy headwrap is a fun texture to incorporate as well.
Quince…All of their Mongolian cashmere attire is dreamy. Would love this turtleneck sweater dress, the oversized cardigans, the cropped tanks, and these beautifully soft-looking sweats. Could wear these for any occasion, really.
Week in Training
Monday, 9.26: 11.23 miles, 11:07 pace
Felt pretty eerie outside today, and my run at first went really oddly. We landed at midnight this morning and I slept probably 3 hours total between the plane and when I actually went to bed, so I was completely on fumes, a confetti Pop Tart, and Nuun Prime. Weirdly, the miles felt really good after about 5 minutes or so.
Tuesday, 9.27: 13.1 miles, 10:56 pace
Stressed out in the morning with evacuation prep, but this run actually ended up being mentally very productive. I decided on a course of action for ensuring I made enough food for us, how to get a recipe test in among the madness, and ended my run at the grocery store to pick up last minute supplies (and wine). News crews were scattered every which corner of my running path and I exchanged well wishes with most people I passed. Longest run I’ve done in months and my heart rate only averaged 158!
Wednesday, 9.28: 7.4 miles, 10:48 pace
Checked into our hotel and the miniscule gym only had a treadmill and an elliptical. Works. I finished with a mile of increasing .1 mph every minute, and performed a 10 minute incline walk to total 90 minutes of exercise overall.
Thursday, 9.29: 7.09 miles, 10:44 pace
Felt like they cranked the AC up so it was kinda unpleasant, but got in some good miles regardless. Progression for the last 5 minutes because I wanted to get 7 miles in 75 minutes – missed that mark by 10 seconds. Finished off with a 20 minute incline walk at 3.3 mph/8% grade.
Friday, 9.30: 9.44 miles, 11:01 pace + 40 minute full body
Was nice to get some gym time in. Strange to say that since I complain heartily about lifting, but after the forced weeklong break I was actually happy to pick up some iron. Weather was beautiful for the run, a great breeze and a dew point around 60!
Strength:
- 3 x 12 zottman curl 15#
- 3 x 8 ea. single leg deadlift 80#
- 3 x 12 sumo squat 80#
- 3 x 12 pressdown 37#
- 3 x 10 wide row 30#
- 3 x 12 waiter curl 35#
Saturday, 10.1: 10.05 miles, 11:09 pace + 30 minute full body
Ran this on autopilot today. My brain was so preoccupied with other things I was surprised to be done when I was. My cadence was much improved – 179 – which maybe can be attributed to the treadmill running or to the less heavy air.
Strength:
- 3 x 10 ea. balanced Arnold 20#
- 3 x 15 decline leg drop
- 3 x 10 pulldown 41#
- 3 x 10 reverse fly 25#
- 3 x 10 ea. oblique bend 40#
- 3 x 12 underhand front raise 30#
- 3 x 10 press up 45#
- 1 minute boat hold
Sunday, 10.2: 4.04 mile walk (1:03:00)
Total running mileage: 58.28 (oops)
