Peru recap, Day 4

If you're bored of reading Peru recaps, my apologies. I'm trying to write everything down while it is still fresh, but even I'm annoyed by the monotonous "and then we did this" tone these posts have taken. If you could use a break, why not watch this? Otherwise, feel free to humor me, below.

Tuesday morning we woke up bright and early for our flights to Cusco, only to sit in the airport for four hours. Minor flight delay. No explanation. Originally, our flight was due in at 11, and our first tour was starting at 1:45, so we started getting a bit nervous that we would miss a big part of our package. Fortunately, we landed around 1 and arrived at the hotel right on time to begin our Cusco City tour. Unfortunately, we didn't have any time to change, so I spent the day in my schlubby travel outfit and Heather spent the afternoon freezing without a jacket. Minor issues.

Cusco was spectacular. If Lima was like Rome (gray, old, crumbly, loud and hectic), then Cusco was like Florence (brown, artsy, warm, laid back). Our city tour took us to the Basilica Cathedral, Covento de Santo Domingo, Saqsaywaman, and Tambomachay. Then, our tour guide took us to an alpaca factory/retail store to show us how to tell the difference betweem real alpaca wool and manufactured. (Hint: real wool is softer, smaller. It also requires shampoo to clean it, which is why I didn't come home with sweaters for anyone. I don't imagine any of us time for hand-washing.)

Before we headed back, our guide took us to one final place, the name of which escapes me, but it was a ruin above the city that used to hold human sacrifices. We were literally climbing through caves at sundown to get to the specific area. I took a picture after we were done; tell me if you think the many orbs in it are dust or ghosts.

What? It's Halloween? I'm just sayin'...

It felt like we packed two days worth of activities into just an afternoon, and one of the things I liked most about this tour company was that every day in Cusco felt like that. They packed so much in, so much more than any of their materials suggested, my vacation theme of "surprise and delight" continued. Peru Gateway Travel, by the way, was the name of the company. I would recommend it to anyone looking to do something similar. They were uber professional, provided awesome, English speaking tour guides that went above and beyond anything I would have expected, and really made this part of our trip so fabulous. And no, they are not paying me to write this.

Let me talk about the hotel for a minute. I mentioned awhile ago that technically, it was considered a hostel, at least by name. I knew we would have our own room and own bathroom, but other than that, I really did not know what to expect. Well, again, I was impressed, and pleasantly surprised. The room was small, and the bathroom was not that of the Radisson, but it was cozy and adorable. There were two twin beds with nice bedding, exposed brick and wooden beams, cable television, a fireplace, a space heater, hot water, and more free internet in the business center downstairs! We also had free breakfast included every morning. Really, it was nice.

Or at least it was nice on that first night. By the second night, after our rainy day in Machu Picchu, I didn't so much appreciate the threadbare towels; and by the last night, I was gagging on some mildewy smell. There was also the small annoyance that our "included breakfast" only included rolls and jam and cheese, and they charged for extra slices! But the bread and the jam were made fresh, daily, and other than waking up to gunfire on that last morning, I couldn't really complain. Much. This was an adventure vacation, after all. The accomodations were just part of the adventure.

Peru, Days 2 and 3

Sunday we woke up bright and early for our tour of Pachacamac, an old Indian village outside of Lima. Of all the things we did on the trip, this is the only thing I would probably not bother to recommend. There was nothing wrong with it; it's just that it was underwhelming, especially compared to the ancient ruin sites we would see later, in Cusco. Even the tour company must have realized it was underwhelming. The first hour of our tour was not even spent taking us there; instead they drove a few miles south of our hotel in Miraflores and gave us the history of the Barranco.

Essentially, if Miraflores is Santa Monica, the Barranco district is Venice - more artsy, laid-back, bohemian. It was nice. But not necessary for a day tour.

Anyway, I had been excited to see Pachacamac, thinking it would be rich with history and energy and spirits. While we did see a human skull by the side of the road, there were few other signs of life to be found. It was primarily brown scenery, worn-down, ill-preserved architecture, and, compared to the stuff we saw later in the trip, kind of lame.

The tour ended around 1, so we got dropped off near the Indian market and shopped around for a little while. Then we ate lunch and went back to the hotel to rest before what would end up being our biggest night out.

We started with (a free) cocktail hour in the hotel bar. I ordered a martini, which I RARELY drink, but I figured, when in Peru... or something. For dinner, we took a taxi back to the Barranco district, and found the cutest little restaurant at which to eat. It was a small, family-run place with only one other table of diners, and both the owner and his waiter son took a liking to us. There was a special on beer, so we ordered a half-pitcher. After dinner, we decided to check out the nightlife, and ended up at this cute little bar that had a 2-for-1 special. And that's when I stupidly switched back to vodka.

Now, because drinks were already cheap in Peru, with the 2-for-1 deal, we were paying something like $3 for both drinks. So of course we had to have a second round. Did I mention that I very, very, very rarely even drink vodka? I learned, about a year ago, that I absolutely can not metabolize it anymore and I get a raging hangover anytime I have more than one cocktail. However, the funny thing about vodka is that it always renders me incapable of remembering this - as if, with the first sip, it just shuts off that part of my brain - so I ALWAYS end up having more than one.

So you can probably guess what happened the next morning. I was a hungover mess and couldn't get out of bed. What you probably couldn't guess was that before I felt like complete ass and made us miss our historic Lima tour, I initiated a dance party in the hotel room. Unfortunately, of all the wonderful amenities the Radisson had, an iPod dock was not one of them, so we just danced sharing the earbuds.

Dance, party of two.

Anyway, I felt like crap the next morning and even worse that we missed the tour. Heather, who has a liver of steel, was so understanding and was happy to let me rest. Ultimately, though, I knew I didn't want to spend the day in the hotel, so we rallied and just took a cab ourselves to the historic municipal district.

I won't go into all the buildings we saw - in part because that would take too much time but also because I don't really know everything we saw - but I will tell you my favorite: the Convento de San Francisco, where we took a tour of the Catacombs. We weren't allowed to take photos, but I did buy some post cards. After going on a labyrinth-like tour of the underground, we saw this:

and this:

and room after room of more human bones than I think probably most people have seen in their lifetime.

And dare I say? It was so cool!

We also got to see an incredibly old library which contains 25,000 books written in the 17th century. I walked in, and immediately recalled the opening scene in Ghostbusters, which, as I write this even now, gives me the chills just thinking about.

The entire time we were in there I spent transfixed, staring off into the distance, trying (hoping) to catch a random movement or gust of wind or any change in energy. The whole room felt charged.

After seeing that, it was hard to maintain energy for much else, so we headed back to the hotel to rest again before dinner. At which, in preparation for our early morning flights to Cusco, Heather and I wisely stuck to wine.

Spent

Things I did this weekend:

- Met friends (Jen, Miya, Little Lauren) for Happy Hour on Friday night at Murano, then Palihouse
- Took car in to Acura for my 82,500 mile tune-up at 8:30 Saturday morning
- Walked from dealership to the Equinox in Santa Monica (and back), bringing my October mileage up to 24.5
- Worked out at said gym
- Got my brows done
- Took my car to a certified smog check station for my registration renewal, a task I was surprised to learn Acura could not do
- Went to a party with Tracy in Culver City (yes, another party! I should complain about things more often)
- Got a pedicure
- Cleaned entire apartment including scrubbing every surface in my bathroom
- Arranged, captioned, and ordered a digital photo book of my Peru trip through Kodak
- Went to yoga
- Had (Tall) Lauren over for dinner

Things I did NOT do this weekend:

- Relax

Peru, Day 1

I've been home for almost a week and I haven't even really begun to recap the trip. I guess I am a bit overwhelmed, as every day brought something new, something vastly different than the day before. While I know I can recall the details of the trip - many as there were - I don't know if I can adequately express their significance or how amazing it felt to see it all firsthand. Well, I guess Van Halen helped out with that last part.

After my kvetching on Friday night, Nicole drove me to LAX where I had absolutely no problems getting through security, getting a good seat on board, falling asleep on the plane, or making my connection. I arrived in Lima around 3 PM, on time, and hopped in a cab to the hotel where I met Heather.

I mentioned that the Radisson was a delight. In fact, it was what we refer to in my office as a "surprise and delight." Between our numerous freebies - drinks per diem, internet, (huge) buffet breakfast - large room, fantastic shower, and the generally wonderful staff, every day brought something new to be impressed by. It's not like we planned on staying in a luxury hotel. But we sure felt like were in one.

What didn't surprise - nor delight - either of us, was the weather. I had heard that Lima was gray, and it did not disprove itself. Our first day there happened to be the nicest, and we did manage to catch a few rays peeking out, but coming from LA, I thought even that was pretty dismal.

Saturday evening, full of energy, Heather and I walked a few blocks west to the Larcomar shopping district, which I immediately associated with the Third Street Promenade. Touristy, big-chain restaurants (Hi, Hooters!), decent if not random shopping, and a panoramic view of the Pacific. However, while the Santa Monica ocean is almost always some hue of blue, this Pacific was mostly only shades of gray.

Other than the sunset, there wasn't much else to see at this small mall, so we headed back east towards Miraflores' central square for dinner. There we found Lima's version of restaurant row, one eatery after another, all different, yet all the same. Suddenly feeling our jet lag after our mile-plus walk, we settled on one of the first decent places we came across, ordered two pisco sours, and some local cuisine. Heather had the stuffed bell pepper, I had the avocado with chicken salad. (Yes, it was Peruvian, I swear! There was mayonnaise! Which actually kind of makes me shudder now but I ate it like a champ, then.)

Finally, exhausted, we got the check, discovered that Heather was happy to manage the money on the trip as long as I would handle the language, and went back to the hotel to enjoy our free nightcap.

More (and more exciting adventures) to come...

Tonight's Peru recap is brought to you by Van Halen

(Turn up your sound...)

Seis cosas

Crystal tagged me for a short meme. The theme is to list six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself, but since I am still in Peru-recap mode, I'm highlighting six random things related to my trip. Here goes:

1. Halfway through our Cusco trip, I noticed what looked like a spider bite on the palm of my hand. "I think I got bit by something" I told Heather on the tour bus that day. The woman sitting in front of us, who had spent the week before on a medical mission in the countryside and hadn't talked to us the three days prior even though we had spent our whole tour together, turned around and offered, "I hope it's not scabies." Um, what? "I came down with scabies the last time I did a mission. Does the bump have a black dot in the center?" Um, no. "Then it's probably just a bite." Thanks. I spent that night in a fitful sleep dreaming about spiders, bedbugs, and scabies.

2. The next morning, we woke up to gunfire. It sounded like it was coming from right outside of our hotel; however the walls were pretty thin and a lot of things sounded like they came from right outside our hotel. The first time it happened, Heather and I woke up with a start, said, "What was that?!" and then kind of dismissed it because it stopped as quickly as it started. When it happened again 15 minutes later, we dismissed it again, for the same reason. But when rounds fired a third time, we started getting scared. "What should we do?" she asked. "We could call the front desk," I offered, though I'm pretty sure I said, "You could call the front desk" because it was cold and I really didn't want to get out of bed. "Well," she started, "it's not like anyone is screaming or anything, so I can't imagine we're in any real danger." Practical girl. My thoughts, exactly. We both fell back asleep, grateful it was our last day in Cusco.

3. Heather and I had our own private dance party in the Radisson one night. Rhianna played on my iPod, and we each shared an earbud.

4. The next morning, I was so hungover I made us miss the Historic Lima tour we had already paid for. I rallied that afternoon, though, and we went by ourselves, anyway.

5. I think the hardest part of being away was Life Without Starbucks. (Yes, they had a few, but never in my path at 7 AM when I needed it.) I did manage to get coffee almost every morning, but in some cases it was too weak, in others, it was like drinking ink, and the whole thing just stressed me out so much I eventually just stopped trying.

6. The other hard part was drinking water, not because it was in short supply, but because the public bathrooms were so hit-or-miss. Many did not have toilet paper, and some did not even have toilet seats! I came prepared with tissues and antibac wipes, but I consciously refrained from hydrating because I never knew what to expect. That, combined with the fact that my body physically shuts down when I go away, and it is virtually impossible for me to go to the bathroom anywhere but my own home, made for one uncomfortable trip. Fortunately, I am already feeling much better.

I am supposed to tag six people but instead, why don't you all tell me about your favorite (or worst) vacation. Link back and tell me if you do. More recaps to come.

Peru recap, part 1

I'm back, bitches!

(Yeah, I don't know, I've just wanted to say that all day.)

And what else can I say? It was fabulous. Uh-mazing. Trip of a lifetime. So, where to begin?

I knew I was needlessly worrying on Friday night, but I couldn't help it. Fortunately, Nicole had offered to drive me to the airport, so it was a big comfort to have her over and share some beers in the few hours leading up to my flight. And of course, everything I had worried about was for naught. The flight was on time (the airport wasn't exactly packed at midnight), I easily made the connection, slept soundly through both flights, and Copa Airlines was a dream! We were served hot meals - with actual silverware - and weren't charged for pillows, blankets, or extra luggage. It was really the best airline experience I've had in a while.

I arrived in Lima, on time, at 3 PM on Saturday. My bag was first out of the gate, I sailed through customs, and successfully bargained with the cab driver. I arrived at the hotel a short time later, met up with Heather, and swapped pleasantly-surprised exclamations at how nice the hotel was. She had booked us in the Radisson, which, in the US, I believe, is a fairly mid/low-budget hotel. Here, it was definitely low in cost, but I swear, it offered a 4-5 star experience. Our room was more like a suite - with a large lounge area plus fantastic bathroom/shower, there was free Internet on new computers in the business center, a full (huge) breakfast was included everyday, and we also got a S30 (Soles) per diem to use towards free drinks, water, or whatever we wanted at the hotel bar. Um, hello!

Heather and I on the first night, exhausted, but enjoying free bevvies!

First off, one of the best things about Peru is that you actually get a lot for your dollar. One American dollar is worth about 3 Soles, and food and drinks are priced shockingly low. So a S30 (approx $10) per day stipend bought us both at least one round of drinks or a few waters at the hotel. Even when we went out at night, we were thrilled to discover we were paying only about $15 each for an entree and a few glasses of wine. Heather hilariously commented, "It's like we're making money by being here!"

While we're talking about money, I should also note that I've known Heather since college, however I apparently never knew she was a secret math nerd. She happily took charge of figuring out each bill, while I took care of the language portion of the trip. Coffee Break Spanish plus five years in high school/college allowed me to recall enough basic Spanish to get by. Of course, it also helped that nearly everyone spoke a little English.

That calculator came everywhere.

Since food and drink were so cheap, it goes without saying that we consumed our fair share of both the trip. The only time I left my house today was to pick up some fresh fruits and veggies from the market, as I am officially off alcohol and sugar and anything majorly processed for the forseeable future. (Or, at least until Wednesday). Yes, we got a lot of exercise, but not enough to keep me from feeling like the Incredible Bloated Blob. National Elastic Waistband Week has promptly been put into effect.

Overall, not everything was perfect, but it was, without a doubt, the trip of a lifetime. I'll post a more detailed itinerary and stories later this week, but in the meantime, you can view a handful of my fairly-well-captioned photos here. (This is actually only about half the pictures. I am nothing if not a good editor.)

Mas pronto!

Guest blog post: Love, Mom

Regular readers of this blog have heard me talk about my mom many times. Now you can hear her talk for yourself! (Well, I guess you can't really "hear" her, unless you go here. In which case you are also watching her. What I meant was now you can read something she has to say. Well, at least we know my brain is on vacation.)

When Lori asked me to write a post while she was away, I was honored. And since then I've been stumped. And puzzed. And awed by the fact that my daughter writes once or twice a week about things that cross her mind, things that inspire her AND inspire others. Am I crazy to do this? Am I in over my head? Well, I'm just unprepared! Then I began to realize that in the 50 plus years that have lived, I've been unprepared for just about everyhing I've ever set out to do; choosing a career, getting married (twice), getting divorced (twice), starting an advertising agency, selling my home of 26 years. There's more, but you get the picture. (This, by the way is why I couldn't hack Girl Scouts) However, in pondering my ever-present state of not readiness, I looked back on my achievements and am quite impressed at how they turned out. One of them being my daughter Lori.

Yes, I was prepared to have a child (you have 9 months to get ready for that). And of course I read Dr Spock (not theVulcan). But the truth is, I was never in love with kids. I never baby-sat as a teenager. I didn't googoo at infants in the supermarket. I just didn't relate to them. But Lori was different. Lori was special. Lori was the first grandchild in my family. She was that bundle of delicious joy that all families, especially grandmothers wait their entire adult lives for.

So, the only preparation made for that event, was that my mom would come for a week and help with the baby and I would relax and recover. Back then we milked that recovery time to the max- 4 day hospital stay, no breast feeding trauma, and grandma, ever-present with diaper and bottle in hand. During one of my relaxing periods I smelled something burning in the kitchen.

"Not to worry," said my mom. "The plastic bottles melted in the dishwasher."

"It smells poisonous," I replied.

So we opened the windows and mother and baby took a nice breezy nap. Dinner was a little late that evening because while grandma was out replacing the bottles, the rubber nipples that were sterilizing on the stove-top burned. We slept with the windows open a lot.

One afternoon my mother quietly informed me that there was something wrong with Lori.

"Come look at her. Her skin is an unhealthy color," she said.

I looked in the bassinet and saw this beautiful baby, sleeping like an angel, and yes, she had sickly, pale green skin. I tried not to panic, remembering in the back of my mind the time my mother rushed a kitten of ours to the vet for serious breathing problems, only to find out the little darling was purring. So, I gently picked up my baby and brought her into the hallway for a better look. To make a long story short, it's amazing how the reflection of newly-painted, 1970's sea foam green walls can play such dirty tricks on a new mother and grandmother.

And on a general note, how about the old falsehood, "Infants are so easy to take care of. All they do is eat and sleep"? I have a good response to that one. They eat, but they never fall asleep IN their cribs. My husband and I used to take turns on a nightly basis driving our sleep deprived selves and baby through the streets of Norwood, MA until one of us closed our eyes.

So, as the days went on, the expected became the unexpected and vice versa, and the new challenges became ordinary. Take for example the blog I was unprepared to write, it is now finished.


Funny how that happens.

32 years of anxiety packed tightly in a rolly-bag and carry-on

With only a few hours left to go, I'm unusually nervous about my trip to Peru.

Considering I fly, on average, about once per month, and have visited a number of foreign countries (well, not a big number, but a decent handful), I really have no reason to be so. Maybe it's the idea of spending a week in a second world country, or that, given the state of the economy, I might be returning home to one, but I am uncommonly unsettled right now.

Because I don't want to spend my trip (or the hours leading up to it) being a Nervous Nelly, I am going to purge all my fears in this one blog post, and then, hopefully, never utter them again.

I can't help but feel like I've forgotten something major. However, I have packed: my passport, my wallet, my camera, my camera battery charger, my ipod, my ipod charger, my phone (which won't work) and my phone charger, all my toiletries, ten pairs of underwear and socks, four pairs of shoes, seven pairs of pants, less than half the hoodies in my closet, about 40 other tops, books, magazines, Spanish Phrases for Dummies, and probably a million other things I was worried about forgetting which is why all this has been packed since Saturday.

I am worried about not having a working cell phone. I'm already having separation anxiety at the thought of not checking my email, my Facebook, Gawker, Huffington Post, the Dow, my work email, how well my soap is selling, and, of course, the 20+ blogs I read. I know at least one hotel will have a business center. The point, however, is that I am going ON VACATION and should probably learn how to actually enjoy it.

I am worried that I only got to lesson 12 in Coffee Break Spanish. Although I have eight podcasts downloaded for my trip, and I already know everything I really need to say: "No entiendo, lo siento" and "Mas despacio, por favor!" But I was really hoping to be a bit more bilingual by now.

I am worried about finding the good kind of cab from the Lima airport. I am worried that Customs may take my two boxes of Zone bars, which I brought so I could have options other than guinea pig. Or cat. I am worried that security might take the few sleeping pills I'm smuggling on board, hiding them like they are something much worse (and more fun). I'm worried about getting the middle seat or being seated next to someone highly undesirable. I'm worried about sleeping on the flight, or, more accurately, NOT sleeping. I'm worried about connecting in Panama City, or, by some scheduling issue, not connecting in Panama City.

I'm worried about our flights to Cusco, that they might be delayed and we might miss out on part of our package. I'm worried about getting altitude sickness in Cusco, which is 11,000 feet above sea level. I'm worried about one of the other tour companies messing up our reservations and therefore our schedule in Peru. I'm worried about paying in Sols and haggling at the market and having to worry about not losing my passport.

I'm actually worried about being worried. I would take one of the few Xanax I'm bringing for the flights, but then I would worry about not having it when I need it. I could drink some wine but then, what if I had too much and forgot something important? I really need to get over this.

In any case, I hope you all have a worry-free week. Look for a fun guest-post on Tuesday! And if I can tear myself away from ancient Incan culture, I will consider trying to update from down below.

Adios, amigos!

Feminine charms

Just when I was feeling frumpy and forgotten in Hollywood, a random guy came up to me at the gym tonight.

"I don't know if there is a right way to say this to a perfect stranger," he started out.

I thought he was going to tell me I was using the lat machine wrong.

"But I just wanted to say that I think you're very pretty."

Oh.

"I've seen you here before and I told myself if I saw you again, I would say something."

Wow. "Thank you!" I smiled, embarrassed and in shock. The compliment could not have come at a better time.

Apparently I underestimated this outfit, which I repeated tonight minus the matching sneaks and iPod casing. Who knew Bobby Trendy was so underrated?

Where have all the parties gone?

It occurred to me recently that I don't go to parties like I used to.

For the majority of the time I lived in New York, and even the first year or two I lived out here, I'd have a party of some sort to attend nearly every Saturday night. Sometimes it was a friend's birthday; often, it was a stranger's gathering. But Fun! Single! Girls! were always welcome, and Fun! Single! Guys! were always there.

I don't know when, exactly, it happened, that Fun! Single! Guys! turned into The One Single Guy Who's Balding and Unemployed. Or when raucous parties started dwindling in general, my married friends opting for birthday dinners or afternoon delights. Even I, the Fun! Single! Girl! started making plans according to that preference, as evidenced by my last birthday which started at 4:00 in the afternoon.

I miss my old social life. Not the drinking and getting drunk part, exactly, but the sense of adventure - who will I meet/see tonight? What good stories will come out of it? How amazing do I look in my new sample sale jeans?! I used to plan my Saturdays around shopping for a party outfit, going to the gym, and consuming as few calories as humanly possible. It sounds shallow and juvenile and lacking in self-esteem; yet, when I knew there were boys out there for the flirting, I never felt more confident in my life.

Somehow, that's all changed. I'm (extremely) fortunate to still have plans every weekend I want them, but they usually consist of girls' dinners or dinner parties or grabbing a quick drink at the local pub. If I ever do have random run-ins, it's almost never with cute single guys - their wives or girlfriends are always in tow. It's so rare that I leave the house thinking I'll have anyone to impress, I'll often let my hair look limp and forgo the skimpy shirts in lieu of billowy blouses. And with a closet more billowy than bodacious, it' no wonder my body has started filling out the blanks.

Without the availability of single men to motivate me, I've noticed, I've felt much less flirty and way more frumpy. And it has done a number on my self-confidence. Maybe I'm plain according to Hollywood standards or am too old, myself, to fit into the scene out here, but its rare that, when there is a party, I feel capable of turning heads.

This post was not intended to be a pity party. (Although, hey - party!) By all accounts, I still feel like I'm pretty freaking fabulous, if a bit miffed by the idea that no one of the opposite sex seems to. What I had meant to write was that I haven't been to a party in months, and last night I was invited to two.

The first was an NBC premiere party for My Own Worst Enemy. Even though this was technically a work event and I wasn't expecting to meet any single men, I was excited at seeing Christian Slater. Former teenage Hollywood heartthrobs, though not likely to pay me any attention, are still reason to get gussied up, in my book.

I was also excited to finally go to Craft, even though we just mostly sampled passed hors d'oeuvres. I ate my weight in cheese puffs and mini pizzas since, you know, billowy. Baby doll dresses can not go out of style fast enough.

Then we headed north to a party in the Hollywood Hills. This was the party I was looking forward to, as I knew it would be a mix of fun, single people my age. And it was, I guess. But it was lacking... something. The soundtrack was low key, not upbeat. No one seemed interested in mingling, at least not with us. But mostly, the house, while jaw-droppingly impressive, was almost too big for the amount of people there. Rather than be filled it energy, it seemed to call attention to the empty space.

At least the view was pretty amazing.



I wish I had the same outlook on my social life.

Running for something, anything, everything

One of the nice things about not buying a condo is that I can go shopping at Target for my upcoming Peru trip and not feel guilty about spending the money. Because, really - $25 for an adorable black fleece jacket? Yes, please.

I can also freely donate to charity. Crystal turned me on to this organization and their 30-mile challenge, which is asking people to pledge to run, walk, or cycle 30 miles in the month of October to bring safe water to children in Tanzania. Thirty miles in a month (walking, if you want!) - that's less than one mile per day. And yet, ever since I've gotten into yoga, I've been seriously slacking on my running, so I'm glad to have something to motivate me back into it. I suppose I could do 30 miles in a month without donating, but the money will keep me honest, and really, these kids need it more than me. Consider it condo karma. It might as well make someone happy.

And since I like the idea of having a monthly goal, I'm going to pledge to do the 30 miles this month, walking-running combined; but next month, running only. It shouldn't be too hard - it wasn't that long ago I was averaging 15 miles per week. But it was long enough that my body doesn't look like I've spent half my evenings on the treadmill.

Any suggestions for what my goal could be for December? I don't bike, and I don't want it to be focused on weight loss, but I also don't want to just start increasing my running mileage or time - I'll get bored. I'm doing yoga as often as I can, but my favorite classes are on weekends. I think it will have to be a weight-lifting challenge - anyone have any ideas or want to join in?

I kicked this month's challenge off with a bang. I watched nearly the entire debate tonight on the treadmill, racking up at least six miles. To be honest, I lost count somewhere after five, so I'll only record that, but I was on the thing for a good 90 minutes. Say what you will about her politics, but that Palin lady is very entertaining.

If only she wasn't ringleading such a circus.