Busted Garage Door

I guess I can’t say that the door itself is busted.  That actually seems just fine.  But one morning my wife tried to open it with the remote opener and Crack! Ptwang! a cable went flying and the thing wouldn’t open.

The cable was unattached at the upper end on one side, so the door doesn’t have enough pull, so to speak, for it to open on its own.  It needs some manual assistance.  Kind of a pain, but workable for the short term.

I took some time today to fix it, but no go.  There is a big fat spring that provides some major leverage.  That spring is busted.  A hook at one end is just plain old cracked, wrenched, split.  The piece that connects it to the other piece just isn’t there.  I couldn’t find it.

What likely happened is that ice was holding the door to the floor.  The previous owner had warned us of this.  “I put a little salt down,” she told me.  We never put a little salt down.  Until today, of course.  Now that the door is busted, that will help only so some extent.

This is one of those boy-that-was-stupid-situations.  Some rock salt is certainly cheaper than a house call to have someone fix the dang door.  Live and learn, eh?  I guess we keep some local business in the black by calling them up and asking for some service.

At least no one got hurt.  Isn’t that what a responsible parent is supposed to say?  So I said it.  I still feel stupid.

One Foot After the Other

So on the one hand I feel all “look at me I’m running eleven miles when it’s twenty degrees and windier than the prelude to the Wizard of Oz” and I know no one else is out there and boy am I special and aren’t I one tough dude?  And on the other hand I feel all “I hope no one drives by because I’m so frikkin’ hot from working so hard and my remaining hair is plastered down to my tiny head with sweat and I’m plodding along slower than a three-legged dog on heroin” and so old-mannish I’m almost embarrassed.

Sometimes when I run for that long (two hours today you can call me Mr. Pokey McGillicuddy) I have way too much time to think.  I mean, who cares what I look like or how slow I’m going?  I’m running eleven miles when all you couch potatoes are reading trashy novels or watching old war movies or whatever and my lungs could beat up your lungs any day, so cram it if you think I look like some greasy old jogging slug.

I haven’t run that far since August.  Back then it was hot and at least no one could see my sweaty wisps of what is left of my hair because I wore a brimmed hat.  I wore a hat today but it was of the fleece-because-its-winter-and-I-want-to-keep-my-ears-no-frostbite-for-me-thanks variety.  Also, I wore shorts and short sleeves in the summer and any passersby could see my burly arms so they wouldn’t notice if I moved slowly in fact they would be grateful because they would be pondering my resemblance to Adonis.  But of course I had to go with sleeves today.

I have my mileage in for the week now.  I could give up on a run tomorrow and still be on the positive side of my goal.  Of course, the more I manage to get in the less I will plod.  My goal here really is about running far, but if I can enhance my image at the same time, who’s to say that won’t do?  I live here in the United States, after all, where image matters more than substance much of the time.  I’m just trying to get my piece, if you know what I’m saying.

Seriously, it was a good run–slow but I got it done.  That’s a confidence booster, for sure.  The wind is still howling, although the temperature is now just above freezing.  I’m glad I went earlier.  I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m a wuss.

Getting in a Few Miles

So the deal is this.  I would like to run the Vermont 50 in September.  That’s 50 miles.  I’ve done it before.  I wanted to do it this past fall.  That was not in the cards.  I have plenty of time to make it happen.  I’ll tell you, though, it isn’t easy to get the miles in during the winter.  It is cold, it is slippery, I have to wear lots of clothing, I get sweaty, the roads are narrower, I use more energy, yada yada yada.

My schedule needs to match well in the winter, too.  Getting up early is fine when the sun gets up early, but these days I need to be long home by the time the sun gets to rising.  I do love to run early, but when it is 1 degree, like this morning, and dark and breezy and slippery…  You see where I’m headed.

This is why people don’t do things like this, I realize.  It is easy to make excuses.  It is easy to make other things a priority.  It is the accumulation of runs that makes it attractive to me.  Any given run might be a drag, or it might be amazing, but piling them all up makes for some feel-good stuff.  So I need to make it happen.

It will take time, I know that.  I will do a couple more short weeks of twenty miles or so.  Then I need to start getting in some longer runs.  By the time spring comes, I will hopefully be in the position to take advantage of the warmer weather right away.  When I ran the marathon in Burlington every year, I was always amazed at how many people I would see running once it got warm out.  I would have the roads to myself, as I do now, until the fair weather runners came out.

Already I feel pretty good.  Today was 10 degrees but I felt fine.  I got in a few miles before I had to meet my daughter getting off the bus.  I will run again this weekend, both Saturday and Sunday if all goes well.  I won’t get in that many miles for the week, but enough for now.  Once I get into it, I look forward to the next run.  I am starting to feel that way now.  My run today was too short.  I can’t wait until I can take the time to run the eleven mile loop.

That will feel like I am getting in the miles.  Then maybe 50 miles will seem within reach.

Deep Enough Snow

Snow After a Storm

Snow After a Storm

This morning we woke to the effects of yesterday’s storm.  We have several inches of snow on the ground.  It was deep and fluffy.  The sun rose to a clear sky and the world was aglow.  The low light slanted against the whitened firs, that air was still, our feet crunched as we walked.

When I was in high school I headed from my home in Connecticut to rural Vermont for a semester.  That was on this date a whole passel of years ago.  The experience had such an impact on me that not only did I end up living in Vermont, but I remember the day I started that semester.

I arrived with my parents in Vershire on a day much like this one.  The snow was deep, the world was quiet.  It was beautiful.  After my parents got a chance to see the place and get oriented, and to offer me a solid goodbye, I began my four months in a new place–a school on a working farm.

I dug it.  I learned a lot about myself.  I made good friends.  I came to love the world.  I still do.  And I came to ask lots of questions.  I still do that as well.

I mentioned the place, the Mountain School, to a couple of students with whom I now work.  I told them they might think about applying.  It would do them some good.  I suppose it isn’t for everyone, living in a small community and working hard and being pushed to learn, but, frankly, I think more of that would do all of us some good.

Snowing Like Stink

I would, of course, be in Milton all day.  Most of the schools in the state were closed but all of Chittenden County was open.  That made sense in the short run, since it was not even snowing when I left this morning.  But whenever I got the chance to peek out of one of the too-few windows at Milton High School, it was snowing.

By early afternoon it was snowing like stink.  Some schools that had not closed for the morning closed early.  That would have been smart.  Driving home was craziness.  Snow was falling hard, visibility was low, there were lots of cars on the road; it was a recipe for smashing.  I made it home, however, with nary a scratch.  I simply had a long drive.

Now, long after I am home, it is still snowing like stink.  Look:

Snowing Like Stink at Night

Snowing Like Stink at Night

The timing of this was all wrong.  Schools were open because it wasn’t snowing in the morning.  They can’t close around here because too many parents complain if they are closed.  But when it was time for buses to carry students home, the roads were about as dangerous as they can get.  Plus, it will likely peter out so we don’t get the bonus snow day tomorrow.

Not that I can afford a snow day.  That would mean more work to make up. But still, I frickin’ love snow days.  If I can swing it, I will take a couple of hours to go skiing tomorrow.  Or not.  But maybe.  We’ll see just how much of the stinky stuff we get.

Best Part of the Day

Today this was waiting for the bus in the afternoon.  I had two meetings cancelled today which meant I had time to go home before I worked in the evening.  I walked down our long driveway with my wife and my son, the sun shining on the snow, the air cold but typical for late January.  It was beautiful.  I thought of nothing else at that moment.  I watched my son run and jump in the snow and I was content.

The school bus has given me that–time to just be outside on a fine day and look around and be with my family.  And then my daughter gets off the bus and she is such a big kid and I am a proud dad and we walk back to the house together.

Today, as on many days, it was the best part of the day.

Another Chilly Run

It seems they can’t be avoided, these cold forays with the running shoes.  I was busy today with all kinds of random crap–paying bills, trying to figure out how to refinance and being put off again (even by a second lender), taking a carful of junk to the dump, letting my children climb all over me.  So I got out to run at the end of the day.

I got to say goodnight to the sun, as it was setting.  I told it I looked forward to seeing it tomorrow.  It was 7 degrees when I left and 5 degrees when I got home.  The wind was light but I ran fast.  I heated up halfway through, enough so I was sweating, but it was chilly, especially with the breeze I created.  These chilly runs can’t be avoided this time of year, if I want to run at all.

When I got home I was sweating, as usual. I wore a wind jacket, and it got soaked through.  My gloves got frosted.  My hat had a rim of ice.  It was cold and I was pumping out water.  My body isn’t quite sure what to make of thermoregulation when the outside temperature is in the single digits but my core temperature is higher than normal.  It kind of freaks out.

The temperature is now zero, darkness having settled in for these many hours.  It will get much colder tonight.  I hope our blueberry bushes handle it well.  I was hoping to run again tomorrow.  I keep getting in these shorties–only four miles today.  I was hoping to do at least six tomorrow, but I may just do the same four again.

I like to get out there, but dang, I’m no popsicle, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Running In Icy Wind

Earlier in the week I bagged going for a run, even a short one, because the time I had to do it was too cold. I don’t necessarily regret not going. It was ten below and breezy. I just wimped out. But I wasn’t going to do that again today.

It was much warmer than the last time I tried to make the decision to run, two days ago. It was 18 degrees warmer in fact. Of course, this meant it was only 8 degrees, and the wind was whipping. It was a frostbite kind of run I was looking toward.

I went despite the chill. I wore some layers and stretched and just went out there. I still am not going all that far. I went about five and a half today. I ran fairly quickly, to keep warm, and to just get on back to the house. But it was slippery. Road salt hasn’t done much of anything for several days now. Some sand had been spread on the road, but still, my traction could have been better.

My pace was average, even though I tried to go faster. I had the wind to slow me down, plus the slipperiness, plus some hills. A couple of times I had all these at once. Moreover, I was cold. My muscles were not exactly loose like they are on a summer day. I had to move quickly to keep limber.

My chief worry was frostbite on my face. I thought about wearing a neck gaitor to cover my face, but that would have meant that I was likely to get too warm. Getting too warm means sweating, and sweating can lead to hypothermia on day like today. If I had to slow down of stop (twisted ankle, knee pain, what have you) I would get too cold too fast. It turns out my own rising heat kept my face warm enough.

So I got out there and had a solid run today. I only got out two days this week, thanks to my fear of the cool weather (the temperature rose to 11 today, the highest and the first double digits since Tuesday). Maybe tomorrow I can squeeze in a few miles. It may get up to the teens again.

How can I wimp out then?

Bouncing Interest Rates

We have been thinking about refinancing lately.  You know, get a lower interest rate and save tens of thousands of dollars over the next way too many years, not to mention pay less every month.  We are one of the lucky few to be eligible for the best rates so we have been on the lookout.  It hasn’t worked out quite yet.

Our current interest rate is 6.125%.  That isn’t bad.  We were certainly happy with it when we got that big old loan to begin with.  But then rates dropped.  The first time I really looked, about a week ago, the best rate for our loan holder was 4.75%, according to the web site.  That was less.  I got on the phone to talk to someone about what all this means and what it might cost and while I was on the phone the rate rose to 5.125%.  Of course, I had to wait about 20 minutes on hold, but I didn’t think it would change that much while I was listening to the muzak version of Journey’s greatest hits.

I asked about this, of course, not being one to simply accept that things are the way they are.  The customer service rep told me that interest rates get posted four times each day, and so might change four times on any given day, or not.  She suggested I sign up to get an email when rates drop to the lower interest rate.  I thought that might not be a bad idea.

Interest rates did go down.  I never got the emails telling me this because they got sent to my spam folder.  So the email I most wanted to receive and had asked to get were being junked, while the ones from Melissa Jane Mastel promoting events in upstate New York keep getting through even though I have labeled them as junk scores of times.  I guess I need to accept things are the way they are more often.

Anyway, rates dropped, then dropped again.  They went down to 4.625%, which meant we would save 1.5% off our current rate.  Sign me up.  I called last night to nake it happen and got a message saying the wait would be an hour and a half.  That was bad timing, given the need to get the children to bed and then eat a large bowl of chocolate ice cream.  So I waited.  By the time I was ready to call them back  it was 8:01 PM.  They closed at 8:00 PM.

So I looked again this morning.  Rates were up to 4.75%.  I called and got a wait time of 20 minutes.  After 40 minutes, I had to go, so I hung up.  Then rates rose to 4.875% and ended the day at 5.125%.  What’s up super ball?  Stop bouncing around so much.  So we are right back where we were when we started looking.  Do we do what we can to take this rate now?  Or do we wait to see if rates go down again?  What if they go up?

I know they won’t change until Tuesday, since the markets will be closed, so we have some time to think about it.  We don’t want to change our lender.  They seem to have the best deal, and they certainly have the best customer service (aside from the long wait times).  I guess we wait and see.  We missed out on a way low rate and I won’t let that happen again.  Now that I have been paying attention for a couple of weeks, I understand things a little better.

I just hope that rates keep dropping.  The national average dropped to its lowest ever yesterday, so I am hopeful.  But whatever.  It’s only tens of thousands of dollars we’re talking about.  It’s not like I plan to retire.  Ever.  Or send my kids to college.  I’m thinking that maybe I can harness the power of the cold to make some extra cash for those things.  It was -20 this morning so if I can do that, maybe the kids can avoid the low-paying job after all.

Garage and Windshield Wipers

Our thermometer read zero when we rose this morning.  It read 32 when I went to bed.  That’s a drop.  I walked my daughter out to the bus and we were glad to have snow pants and neck gaitors.  A breeze blew.  The snow squeaked.  It wasn’t a day for the bus to be late.  It was early.

Soon after that I headed to work, sans snowpants.  Well, I did in fact toss them in the car.  You never know.  My legs were cold just walking to the garage.  And this is why we have a garage.  The thermometer in the car (a feature worth having let me tell you) read 20 degrees.  Let me say that again, 20 degrees! That is a twenty degree difference between the outside air temperature and the unheated garage temperature.  That makes having a garage a huge bonus.

And here’s another thing:  no scraping.  When the air gets icy and I’ve got to leave early, that’s when I forget that I need to scrape the frost.  But with a garage, no problemo dude.  No frost to scrape.  It is warmer, I don’t have to scrape, I can get in the car without getting wet in the rain.  It is awesome.

When we bought this house we weren’t looking for a garage.  We knew it would be a good thing to have, but baby I’m so sold on it now.  How cold I ever go back?  Hopefully I won’t have to.

My only problem now is my sucky windshield wipers.  I paid extra, for the first time ever, to have someone else install a set for me the last time I brought the car in for service.  I figured I just wanted to get it done, so I didn’t do it myself.  Way to go Economy Boy.  They sucked from the beginning, and they still suck.  No matter what I have done to adjust them, they streak like nuts.  And on an icy day like this, with salt and crap getting kicked up, I need some wipers that do the job.

Even my awesome garage won’t help with that problem.  I just need to suck it up and get another pair.  I guess it is better to pay a few extra bucks than to crack up because I can’t see what is coming at me.  That would really make some poor financial sense.