If you’re an outdoors exerciser, you’ll probably agree that we’ve arrived at shoulder season – or, as I like to call it, ass season. As in, falling on your ass if you’re not cautious because it’s so damn icy. We’re somewhere between skiing and running/cycling season and each day brings the question of which activity will be best attempted in conditions that seem to vary daily.
The golf course has deteriorated into an icy landscape, complete with bare spots and piles of dog poop. I skied it Friday and it was treacherous. After walking it on Saturday, I reluctantly concluded that ski season was over. I consoled myself with my first run in weeks – 5 slow, wet and slick miles. My quads are screaming today, so I guess I guess we can call this shoulder, ass and quads season to be accurate.
This morning, there was an unexpected (to me) period of snow. Fluffy flakes quickly accumulated and frosted the icy snow changing my prospects for the day. A ski it would be.
Work last night, an obscenely early soccer game (7:30), and the time change had combined to kick my ass, confirming the appropriateness of my naming the season after the gluteal region. After a nap between fresh flannel sheets, I felt prepared to attempt the golf course, hoping that the trails would be improved. It proved to be beyond my expectations.
The sun had softened the snow’s crust and the newly fallen flakes had filled in the worst of the divots. The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds and the ski was sublime. Although I am generally conscious of being present in the moment, I focused even harder on experiencing this ski, imagining it as being my last of the winter.
The interior trails, particularly the Coca-Cola, were beautiful and easily negotiated. Jeter and I explored a new path or two and when we completed our long loop it seemed we both felt pleasantly fatigued. Regardless of which part of my body feels sore, that soulful place inside me feels satisfied. Time for a glass of wine.
Last weekend’s New York in Bloom flower show at the NYS museum is the ultimate harbinger of spring’s impending arrival. Click through for my Seen gallery on the TU site. As always, the museum and the exhibitor’s did us proud while raising funds for a worthy cause!
It’s been a long time coming, but I’m finally ready to admit that my iPod Classic is a goner. I keep getting the black apple of death and it just won’t charge or play anymore. I believe it lasted nearly 8 years, which is pretty remarkable in our constantly demanding an upgrade society. She was along for the ride for multiple trips across the Atlantic, as well as across this country. I probably went through at least 3 or 4 cords which permitted me to listen to my music in my pre-iPod-compatibility car and countless pairs of ear buds. It was a good run.
When I originally got my Classic, it was a big step up from the Nano with which I had begun my iPod relationship. It had so much room on it that I bought music willy-nilly never imagining that I could ever possibly fill it. But, I did, 30 gigs worth of my favorite tunes portable and playable on demand. We’ve come a long way since my Walkman, baby.
What to do now? I’ve got my iPhone but it only holds a fraction of my music because of storage issues and I haven’t committed to buying a speaker that will amplify my songs. All of my music is on my cloud, and I’ve got Pandora and Spotify apps, but I can’t say I’m adept at streaming what I want, when I want it. How are you managing your devices? Where does your music come from? Do I replace my iPod??
I attended a meeting Tuesday evening in the Club House at Capital Hills. The weather, snowy and wet, was perfectly appropriate for the topic at hand – the sharing of ideas about winter activities at the golf course. As a year round, non-golfing user of the course, I knew this was a meeting I didn’t want to miss.
The meeting was hosted by golf course staff and attended by city recreation department employees as well as interested residents, in total, approximately 20 people or so. For the first 20 minutes, the conversation centered upon the lack of notification about the meeting and dog poop. Once that crap* was out-of-the-way, we got down to business.
Here are some things you may not know about Albany Muni Capital Hills:
• There are 4.75 miles of cart paths. Typically, snow is removed from these paved routes to facilitate dog walking.
• Generally, after 8+” of snow there are more than 6 miles of trails groomed for skiing.
• The golf course is comprised of nearly 300 acres, approximately two-thirds of which is not greens.
• The nearby Normanskill Farm adds an additional 200 acres of basically undeveloped land.
• Martel’s Restaurant has meeting, fundraiser and banquet space available.
Ideas bandied about include:
• Having ski rentals and how-to clinics available on designated days, organized perhaps by local ski equipment outfitters.
• A Winter Carnival and other events.
• Formal bird watching/nature walks.
• An Easter egg hunt.
• Fundraising opportunities via photography, i.e. a calendar of the Dogs of Capital Hills.
The meeting felt very much like a starting point in a potentially awesome initiative. There’s plenty of time for you to get involved. Contact the City Parks and Recreation Department or the course’s superintendent, Scott Gallup to be part of it.
Filed under Albany, Events, Exercise, family, ideas, Local, Normanskill, skiing, snow, Uncategorized, winter, x-country skiing
1. Get yourself invited to a party.
2. Stop at Cheesecake Machismo and select 12 individual slices arranged into a Frankencake for $40.
3. Prepare to be the most popular party guest.
Image: cheesecake machismo.com
I love Cheesecake Machismo. I don’t get there too often because I have no self-control when it comes to their cheesecake. If you were at my brother’s house last weekend, you’d know exactly what I’m talking about. Seriously, I don’t like peanut butter stuff yet still went back for a second forkful of the slice of PB cheesecake.
Beginning last Friday, I ate cheesecake every day this week, except for Tuesday when my stomach was feeling a little off. I’m pretty sure my belly ache that evening was actually the result of withdrawal, kind of cheesecake dts.
Of the slices I sampled (11 out of 12), my favorite was the green tea and chocolate. Or the caramel pumpkin. Or, maybe, the cookies and creme. Who am I kidding – my favorite flavor is the one on my fork.
Time to eat that last slice.
This is my first attempt at noting this weekly event so forgive me if I fail to acknowledge it appropriately. I’m a word girl and my crushes are literary, not literal and, since I’m a librarian, I’ll give them to you alphabetically.
The most local of my crushes and the only dedicated nonfiction writer is Paul Grondahl. Reading Paul’s work in the Albany Times Union has taught me an incredible amount about writing, my community and life. I wish I knew how many stories of Paul’s I read before I began to recognize a consistency in my response to his words, to note his byline. His ability to present human beings in an utterly nonjudgmental fashion is truly an art and we in the Capital District are so very fortunate to have access to his words.
Recently, Paul visited one of the schools where I teach and hearing him speak only caused me to admire him more. He shared his experiences along with his suggestions for conducting quality research and when he spoke disparagingly of Wikipedia, I felt my crush deepen. Absolutely dreamy!
My longest term literary crush would have to be John Irving. I believe The Cider House rules was my introduction to his work and, captivated by his talent, I quickly read each of his novels. After many years, I recently reread A Widow for One Year and was once again charmed by Irving’s ability to convey a story about individuals and, for lack of a better phrase, the human condition. His characters are both blazingly unique and potentially our next door neighbors. It’s magical.
Of the three writers I’m crushing on, John Irving is the only one I haven’t been fortunate enough to meet. Yet. He’s kind of overdue for a new novel and I would love to catch him on tour, so if you happen to hear about him being around (and by “around” I mean within a 150 mile radius), please let me know.
And my final literary crush? You know – I love Richard Russo with an ardor that rivals Band Aid Penny Lane’s obsession with Still Water. Really. What that man can do with words on a page is remarkable and I can’t imagine ever growing weary of their sound. His novel, Bridge of Sighs, just might be my favorite book ever. The voices of the characters are so true and honest when they narrate and the emotions they share so raw, that I find myself rereading this book almost annually. It moves me.
Exactly what one wants from a crush, right?
This place is so special. Feast your eyes on this morning’s beauty…