Travel is Officially Over

We drove across the USA twice, took a cruise to Alaska.  I rented a motorcycle in Barcelona and rode through France, Andorra and Spain in the Pyrenees to the Atlantic Ocean.   We visited Poland and the Czech Republic;  toured Angkor Watt in Cambodia; rented an apartment in Buenos Aires, Argentina; and finally explored Argentina, Uruguay, Chile and Peru traveling by bus.  From now on, its day trips or weekend trips.  I’m looking for to getting back to the real world.

 

4:31 Boston Marathon

Things to do in life:

Run the Boston Marathon as an official entrant.

Done.  Complete.  Check that one off the list.

It was a difficult day.  My legs never felt good in the race and at mile 17 I started to cramp up right as the hills started.  I walked more than ran  until mile 23.  I tried to drink a lot of Gatorade to get the electrolytes back in balance.  I was able to run slowly with a small gate from mile 23 in.  My greatest fear was to be that runner with the rubber legs that collapses just before the finish line and has to crawl over it.  TV loves to capture the agony of the athlete and I didn’t want to be that athlete.   I made it over the finish line with no problem.

It was a good race, an interesting experience.   Here are some pictures.     Just wanted to let you know that I made it and am still in one piece.

Thanks to everyone for supporting me.  Thanks to friends and family for coming out to cheer me on.  Thanks to Joanne and Richard for housing us for the week. Thanks for Susan and my friend Chris for carrying me back to Joanne’s place after the race.  And thanks to everyone for caring.

 

My First Subpeona

Alcohol, drugs,sex and violence.  I listened to cases involving all of these in Auburn Court until my case, the case I was subpeonad for. came before the judge.  I was there as a victim of a violence case and was subpeonad to provide cost damages that I incurred.

Before we headed cross country last year, we lived in an apartment waiting for our beloved Bubby to pass away.  One morning, we were awoken by a neighbor informing us that tires were slashed and cars spray painted.  I was one of the lucky ones, only one tire was slashed.  Some people had all tires slashed.  I put the spare tire on and drove my car to the shop and bought a new tire.  Insurance didn’t cover it.  I paid out of pocket never thinking that the perpetrator would be caught.  There were 21 victims in total.

Right before we left on our cross country trip, we were notified that the perpetrators were caught.  It was an unlikely mother and daughter team.  The mom’s husband lived in Rocklin Manor Apartment complex and was getting divorced from him.  As a grudge action,  the mom decided to vandalize her husband’s car and 21 other vehicles to throw the police off so that it didn’t look victim specific.  The mother enlisted her daughter for help.  Anyways, someone saw them in their white corvette acting suspicious. The Police followed up and arrested both of them.

I don’t know how they vandalized so many vehicles without getting caught immediately.  To do this to so many vehicles, I thought it would take military precision, quite and fast.  So suspected young males.  These two are fat, dumpy and out of shape.  I don’t know how they managed to damage one vehicle without huffing and wheezing let alone 20 more. Oh, there’s nothing like committing a felony to get the adrenaline flowing.

Mother and daughter were convicted of 5 felonies and are spending some bonding time in jail.   Since they have a house, they have assets. The DA went after those assets and I should be getting re-imbursed soon. The moral of the story:  The family that slays (tires) together, stays together in county jail for 3 months at least.

 

Age Discrimination and Asphalt, It’s what’s for breakfast

Our days consist of me training for the Boston Marathon and both of us  searching for jobs.  Both are tiring.  I ran a 20 mile training run on Monday the 9th.  I came through it unscathed, no injuries but the expected blisters and chaffing.  I think I will recover from the effort.   The job market is tiring since it is so depressing.

6 more weeks to the marathon.  I’ll be glad when it is over.  It’s all for a good cause.  Thanks for sponsoring me.   Only one more long workout before the race.  This time a 24 to 26 mile run and then 3 weeks to taper and its off to the races.

Asphalt, it’s what for breakfast since I’m hitting the pavement 6 out of 7 days.

Age discrimination:  The qualifying time for the Boston Marathon for a man 70 over older is 4 hours.   Please!  I’m trying to run the race in 4 hours.  It’s not that easy.  I say if any 70 year old wants to run the marathon, then he or she is admitted without qualifying times.

 

I Hate Mondays

Tell me why?  Because it is my long run day.  This past Monday, the February 23rd,  I ran for 2 1/2 hours, close to 15 miles.  The last half hour hurt bad.  I was dehydrated and I bonked.  Better now than at Boston.  It took awhile to recover from that run.  I was good for nothing Monday afternoon.   I need a good month of March if I am going to meet my goal in Boston.    Today, on my run I noticed some pain in the heal region of my left foot.  Have to watch out for plantar fasciitis.  My calves are tight and sore when I run.  Oh, the joy of training for a marathon.

7 more weeks to go to the marathon.   26.2 miles of fun.   A special thanks to all my sponsors.   It means a lot to me especially in this difficult economy.   I will do my best at the marathon.  Chau.

 

From Cusco to Puno by Rail

On a flight from Lima, Peru to Buenos Aires,  I read an article in an airline travel magazine provided free in the sleeve of the seat in front of me.  It was from LAN airlines, Chile’s official airline.  The author’s name is Vicky Stout.  My comments are in italic.

My newly acquired bright orange, woven backpack rests on the polished stone floor while I sip mate de coca, an herbal tea aimed at combating high altitude and thin air. In other words, you bought a backpack from one of the constantly harassing street vendors to throw all your extra trinkets in it that you bought from those same ubiquitous street vendors.

My ride will be here momentarily. I’m excited for the adventure ahead, but reluctant to leave this serence and exquisite place that has been home for a trio of evenings in Cusco, Peru, the magnificent Hotel Monasterio.  Built in 1595 on the site of the palace of an Incan king, the breath taking monastary characterized by arches, bloom filled courtyards and rich baroque interiors became a hotel in 1965. Neither the centuries nor the guests have disturbed the peace. The Hotel Monasterio is breath taking especially when the bill is presented to you.  There’s just something about staying at a place that charges for a day what a typical Peruvian makes in a month that makes it unappealing to me.  We stayed at the Hostal Santa Catalina, clean, great location, staff was great, huge rooms and for about $40 a night.

Oscar, one of the legions of bellmen uniformed in gray wool, flashes his million dollar smile and signals to me. Reuben, from the aptly named Adventure-Life tour is here. It’s a short ride in his van to the Wanchaq Station, a brief preamble to the journey of a lifetime?

The royal blue train known as the Explorador Andino (andean Explorer)wears a stripe of Incan gold and the name PeruRail along its lenght. Passengers present their passports and are escorted into coaches lined with dark wood and dotted with linen laid tables along wide, spotlessly clean windows (perhaps for taking photos). Every passenger has a pricesless commodity, a table with a view. It might not be priceless.  It’s $220 per person one way from Cusco to Puno and it takes 11 hours and 50 minutes if it is on time. Check perurail.com for more information

The train lurches forward, then chugs slowly along past city streets where flowers frame ramshackle structures, dogs nap in the sun and children wave. Waiters in crisp white coats deliver china cups filled with hot tea.

Cusco is left behind as we plunge through emerald fields edged by the towering Andes mountains, many of which hide their heads in fluffy, white clouds. The sapphire sky is bright and the shadows are long.  The train snakes besides the meandering Huatanay River, neither seems in much of a rush.

On the end of the spectrum from Europe’s raging bullets of speed., this Orient Express run train moves to its own-slower-drummer.  At waters’ edge, a flock of sheep stops to drink. A woman in traditional dress, with a napsack of grain on her back, plods along besides them.  Fields of corn wave, alpaca graze in a filed of clay, workers squat to shape red tile.  The stacks resemble squares on a checkerboard. The long wail of the whistle superceded the soothing clickety-clack as a village comes into sight. Thatch roofs perch atop cottages, dogs race to keep up with the train.  A cow, tethered by a rope, raises its head.  You’ve got that right. These trains are slow and notorious for not being on time.

Though the journey began on a high note- literally, at Cuso’s 11,500 feet above sea level- we’ve climbed slowly, methodically, even close to the sky. At the very highest point of the route, La Raya, the train stops. We get off in the midst of a small trackside market. We stopped at the same market on our bus ride. Any opportunity to sell a tourist some trinkets will not be missed.

Tables are stacked with tourist goods, woolen scarves, socks, hats and gloves;handmade jewelry;tapestries, woven bags and backpacks, small wind instruments and stuffed white llamas and alpacas.  The wind is brisk and cold. Those hats and scarves look even more appealing, and necessary, than in Cusco. Passengers make purchases and take photos of a traditionally dressed woman and her alpaca.  Typical tourist stuff.  Nothing of real high quality.  After awhile you get so tired of these forced stops on tourist trips.  How many maybe (“baby”) alpaca hats can you buy?

Cameras and wallets are tucked away when the whistle blows. All aboard and off we go.  The moving picture show at the windows-to which most sets of eyes are glued-is interrupted by the waiters who, with a flourish, deliver the first of a three course luncheon.

These consummate professionals are akin to synchronized swimmers. They march in, pause, turn and set a silver domed covered plate at each place. On the unspoken count of three,  ciola, the dome is removed, revelaing a picture-perfect first course.  But then this is the Orient Express-managed train and that means first class service

The leisurely lunch is followed by more window gazing and photo snapping.  Without warning, he airis punctuated by the signature wailing of an Andean wind instrument. At first, it seems distant, then louder before traditionally clad dancers and musicians sweep-in whirling abd twirlinh.  They dance their way through the coaches, ending in the observation car, where there are no tables and fewer seats.  The dancers kick it up a notch; suddenly, there’s real competition between the scenery and the smiling dancers.

The landscape losses when the smiling dancer in the swishy red skirt takes a partner. He’s Asian, and she must have had some intuition about him, because he is anything but a wallflower.  He whirls and twirls with her, as his friends erupt in laughter and applause. Next up a Brit, somewhat reicently. And at last but not least, a German, who blithely falls into step with his partner. With the dancing done, eyes are once again trained on the windows. But before a memory card can be filled, it’s haute couture, runway style. The New York fashion shows have little on this choreographed march of models decked out in alpaca sweaters, hats and scarves. No swimsuits however.  Our Asian friend, still aglow from his dabcing success, joins in the runway show, albeit in his own duds. Once again, he’s greated with enthusiatic applause.

The landscape changes from mountains to rolling planes before approaching the edge of our destination, Lake Titicaca, the highest navigavle lake in the world. AS night falls, we pull into Puno. The city’s streets lead to the inky waters of Lake Titicaca, the other marvelous bookend of my adventure, an adventure that has been as much about the journey as the destination.  Well, Puno is another adventure. Cusco has great architecture and history.  Puno has Lake Titicaca.  it is not an attractive city.  The streets are narrow.  It’s cold since it’s higher than Cusco.  It’s wet.  It rained every afternoon we were there but Lake Titicaca was worth it.  I still think I would recommend the Inka Express bus.  It was quicker.   We stopped at 3 historic sites.  Our guide was great.  We also stopped for a wonderful buffet meal half way to Cusco. We saw the same scenery, stopped at the smae market  but we didn’t get the fashion show and dancing. All the more reason for taking the bus.

 

Training Days

I could be back in New England training for the Boston Marathon in this

Or training here in California

I took the easy way out and chose California.

It’s nice to be back.  We are reconnecting with friends.  Our apartment is alright.  Here’s a picture of the complex.

The days are filled with training and job searching, preparation, research. Training is much harder than I thought.  The more I train, the more tired I become.  I have to walk the fine line between overtraining and undertraining; injury and burn out and not be ready for Boston.    As I continure to train, please continue to support me.

That’s it from California.  Just wanted to show some pictures of where we are and let you all know that we are well.   Chau.

 

Roseville Base Camp Established

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.” T.S Eliot

3091 miles from Boxford, MA to Auburn, CA completed in 6 days with no major snow storms encountered. We returned to California last Tuesday the 6th. Wednesday and Thursday, we shopped for  apartments  and moved into an apartment on Friday evening.  We are living in Roseville on Alexandra Drive off Secret Ravine.  The last few days we have been ferrying supplies from our storage bin to our base camp.   We are still not settled but we are settled enough to do the things that we have been craving for the last few months such as yoga and exercise and  with the added benefit of not having to pack our belongings up and move to another location in a matter of days.  We made a nice meal yesterday and thoroughly enjoyed it.  Eating out constantly can be a drag.   I rode my bike yesterday, not many miles but it felt great except for the climb up Sierra College to get back to the apartment.  I started my running program today.  It felt ok but I’m not ready for Boston.  I will be so keep those donations coming.  So life is getting back to normal.   We are complicating the simple life but refuse to dive head first into the rat race. We will be settled by the end of the month.  I’m looking forward to training for Boston.  I’m off to a late start but I have a plan which includes dropping alot of weight (” Hunger is my friend”) , riding many miles on my bike and steady runs building up the distance and getting back on track on the Jeff Galloway training program.  I am behind.  I was suppose to run 15 today.  Instead I ran 5.

Our phone number stays the same.  We’re working on getting a real service instaed of VirginMobile.  Email us for our new address.  We’ll be trying to get to our all to update you all with our new address and information.

Since we have a new address and direction (job seekerSusan, marathon runner Wayne) and are traveling days are over then this blog will be turning into a training blog.   Beware if you want to read about miles run, cycled and weight lost, new pains, old pains and stress injuries in body parts that I didn’t know I had, than check in.  If you want to read my witty observations about adventures in South America,  those days are over for now.

 

Recoleta or Roseville?

We completed our cross country trip on Tuesday with one last push from Salt Lake City to Auburn, CA.  We were very lucky with weather.  We only drove into snow on Monday as we approached Salt Lake City.    On Wednesday, we started shopping for apartments.    Downtown Sacramento,  Davis and the Roseville area were on our list to explore.   We settled on Roseville which brings me back to the days of shopping for an apartment in Recoleta, a neighborhood of Buenos Aires.

It’s easier to apartment shop here.  First of all, we know the language.  There are more resources available, newspapers advertising apartments and web sites listing apartments and apartment ratings that weren’t available in BA. Unlike Buenos Aires, you can actually look at an apartment before signing a lease!  In Buenos Aires, one agenc, BYTArgentina, would only give you cross streets for the apartment and you couldn’t see the apartment before signing the lease unless it was for a year or more.  Outrageous.   You also get more apartment for your money here than in Buenos Aires.  Maybe that is because we are Estadounidenses or gringos which means special pricing.   The only thing that was easier in Argentina was that we knew that we wanted Recoleta and focused our search here.   It took a day for us to decide that it would be the suburbs of Roseville versus Dais or downtonw Sac.

With all that said, I would still like to spend more time in South America, maybe not Buenos Aires since it is a city not conducive to exercising,  the traffic is too bad for running or cycling.  The only place you could run or ride would be the reserve near Puerto Madero or the parks in Palermo.   It would get boring quickly.  I would still like the opportunity to run and ride along the Rambla in Montevideo.  Maybe someday but for now it is Roseville which means marathon training starts soon.   If you haven’t sponsored me to run the Boston Marathon and raise money for optic neuropathy research, please consider it.  It is a great cause.  Progress can be made with you contribution.  Please see www.firstgiving.com/waynehewlett for more information.

As I would say in Buenos Aires,  Chau!

 

The Road Never Ends

We are currently in Salt Lake City.  It atarted snowing so we decided to stay here.  My goal was Wendover, NV right across the Utah border.   Yesterday, was a long day.  Damn, Nebraska is a wide state with not much going on in it outside Omaha and Lincoln.  Well with the exception of Grand Island.  For an island it was pretty grand, not!   We stayed in Laramie, WY last night.  Why would anyone want to live there?  The place was freezing.  When we pulled into the hotel it was 3 degrees.   We were lucky to get through Wyoming without any weather problems today. We are hoping for good weather tomorrow so that we can make the one final push into California.  Hope to see you soon.