London, Standard Time

It's not Daylight Savings Time here in London yet, so strangely we are only seven hours ahead of the folks at home. I haven't yet determined whether the time will change while we are here, or not. A simple Google search (or, ahem, asking someone, like the desk clerk at the hotel) should resolve that question.*

I'm a bit tired as it is 6:45 a.m. at home and we've been traveling since yesterday afternoon. Here is the blizzard we encountered in Everett before we left on Monday, and here is my post while waiting at SeaTac.

I could write about the flight (half empty) or the new video-on-deamand system on the plane (cool), but I don't have the energy just now. I'm in that post-arrival slump, worn down by a long flight and lack of sleep, and slightly less than thrilled with anything. So maybe I'll go read the book I didn't read on the plane (due to the video system) and rest up just a bit.

*The answer is Sunday, March 29.

Leaving on a jet plane (tomorrow)

In about ten minutes I will be able to check in and obtain seat assignments for our flight to London tomorrow. If you think that means I am all packed and ready to go, you are wrong. I am suffering from my typical, perpetual, packing procrastination. Not a new experience. It dates back to my college years and occurs whether I am going to Europe or to Canada for a weekend.

I just took a break from my procrastination post to try the online check-in, and have encountered a loop of frustration. British Airways requires you to provide passport information in advance, but when I attempted to do so I got a message that the system was not working, try again later. However, I can't check in or get seats until that information is provided. So although online check-in is "open," I CAN'T CHECK IN!!!

Better go pack. But before I do, a few notes to update.

Yesterday I did my last long run before the half marathon, 10.2 miles on the Centennial Trail near Snohomish. This was actually a fundraising event for the YMCA's Invest in Youth Program, where you raise or donate money and run as many five-mile loops as you choose to. I hope somebody besides me brought some money, because I got the sense that the participants were more interested in running ultra-long distances than raising money. I'm probably wrong, I'm sure they chipped in. Just because one of the volunteers seemed surprised when I handed him a check, meant nothing I am sure.

Anyhow, I was one of the few people there who seemed to be planning to run less than at least a marathon-length distance. I came planning to run ten miles (with enough time allotted for that), and that's what I did. I got there a little after 10 a.m., just in time to run into Julie Bell, who I've seen at so many races over the last couple years. She was finishing up ten miles, so that's one other. The friend that she was running with wanted to do a couple more miles so she asked if she could run along with me for a mile (then she'd turn back and quit).

I said sure, although I warned her I planned to be slow. She said that was fine, she just wanted the distance. Now you'd think she might be a little tired after the ten miles, but on the other hand she was also all warmed up, and I had just come straight from my car (and pretty much my bed before that). We started out at what felt like a pretty decent clip to me. Then she started talking to me, and asking me questions. It was all I could do to maintain the pace and answer in short sentences, while I was trying to get my legs and cardiovascular system going. We finished that first mile in just under ten minutes. Shortly afterward we said our goodbyes and she turned around.

I realized, after she was gone, that I had been running without my ipod, so now that I was alone I pulled it out and turned it on. Nothing like music in your ears to mask the sound of your own breathing. The good thing about starting out faster than planned is that it set the tone for me. I was able to continue to maintain between a 10:15 and 10:30 pace even on my own. This made me happy because that was the non-race pace that I had usually maintained last summer, before my downslide began. I did not consider this event a race, because nobody was running against anybody else, many of us started at different times, and there was no specific finish.

The turnaround was just past 2.5 miles, and I headed back toward the trailhead to finish my first lap. The "back" part of the out and back was slightly easier, because although the path seemed pretty level, it was slightly uphill on the out portion, and therefore slightly downhill on the way back. That was nice.

At the trailhead I stopped at the bathroom, dropped off my gloves because I was getting warm, and started out again. Second verse, same as the first. I began to recognize people as we passed each other going opposite directions. Usually we would wave, sometimes the other person would say "good job" to me (I was never quick enough to say it back).

On my second and final return trip I caught up with an older woman who was walking and talking to another runner who was passing her. Both of them were doing marathon distances ("just" a marathon, each said), and were doing some sort of walk-run combination. The older woman said, I think, she was doing 60-40, which I assumed meant 6/10 of a mile running, and 4/10 walking.

I met up with her just as I began mile 10 on my Garmin, and she started running with me and talking to me. She organizes some kind of long-distance trail run in Kirkland (or somewhere like that) and much prefers trails to pavement, even the gentle blacktop of this path. As we ran together I was able to talk much more easily than in my first mile, yet when I looked at my watch we were doing a 9:30 pace. Clearly warming up makes a difference.

After a ways together she said goodbye--apparently going into a walk phase--and I finished the remaining half mile or so. I was definitely glad to be finished, but felt pretty good about the run.

This morning, even with the one-hour "spring forward" time change, Rod and I were up before the crack of dawn to go skiing up at Stevens. The Pass had multiple inches of new snow, and shockingly, there was even an inch of snow on the ground here from a late night or early morning snowfall (in March!).

In addition to the fresh snow, we were treated to shockingly blue skies and bright sunshine, warm enough that I felt overheated working my way through the soft snow. Rod was excited and claimed it was very light, but it made me a little nervous. My nervousness was well founded when, on one run, I inadvertantly wandered too far off the side and got stuck in deep "powder."

This was a bit of a freak-out experience for me. I don't want to relive it (much) now, but I will say that it took a long time for me to get out, and there was a certain amount of hyperventilating and crying, as well as a fair amount of swearing. Afterwards I was still shaken and skiied badly for at least a couple more runs, until I regained my equilibrium by having lunch. (Funny how that works.)

After lunch some clouds had rolled in and we got some snow. Still, even the snowflakes were light and fluffy, and didn't really disrupt the skiing the way snowfall sometimes does. But by very early afternoon, my quads had had enough. Yesterday's ten miles plus somewhat strenous skiing did me in. At one point I literally thought, I just don't want to make another turn; luckily that was in a spot where I could just point myself downhill and go!

So I've done lots of stuff this weekend (I didn't even mention the auction fundraiser and dinner we attended last night); everything but pack, really. And, now, check in for the flight. I made a second effort and the system is still down. Better go do that packing and try again later. I am sure my mother will blame me if we get bad seats! Okay, better try again now, just in case it's working. Then pack.

The final countdown

Well, it's less than a week now before we leave for England. Tick tock, tick tock! All plans are laid. Most importantly, hotel reservations are made!

I'm quite excited about our planned accommodations. Our first three nights in London will be at my long-time London pied-à-terre , the Harlingford Hotel near Russell Square in Bloomsbury, where I first stayed as a college student in 1986. Then in Bath, for the weekend of the Half Marathon, we will be staying at a bed and breakfast called Meadowland, a new destination for me. I found Meadowland after discovering that Haydon House (where I've been staying since 1995) has closed. However, Meadowland is not only in the same neighborhood as Haydon House, it appears (from the website) remarkably similar in style and appearance! Finally, the day after the run, we will take the train to Penzance for three days of R & R by the sea. We're staying at the Abbey Hotel, which I located through Alistair Sawday's Special Places to Stay.

I have my new passport (replaced after my purse was stolen in December), a general idea of what I want to pack, and kitty care lined up for the ones left at home (Rod and my cats, or more precisely, Rod for my cats). The only snag in the preparations is that I have misplaced my camera and my desultory efforts to locate it have so far been to no avail. I keep telling myself, it's got to be somewhere!

Other than that difficulty (and the numerous other little tasks that need to be accomplished), I'm ready!

Snow falling on London

London hasn't seen snow like this since the last scene of Bridget Jones's Diary.



Depending on which news source you read, since Sunday London has seen up to three, six, even eight inches of new snow accumulate. Schools were closed, traffic jammed, and complaints about lack of snowplows ran rampant. (Just like our Seattle snowfall before Christmas!)

But just like here, the unusual volume of snow has also piqued excitement and delight amongst Londoners more accustomed to weather that is grey and damp than white and fluffy. Sledding (sledging) on Primrose Hill, skiing on snow-covered sidewalks, and general winter merriment has ensued.



Here are some snowy London scenes, borrowed from the BBC.

London snow is not unheard of in literature. In addition to the ubiquitous romantic snow scenes in movies like Bridget Jones's Diary, poet Robert Bridges wrote "London Snow" back in 1890, telling of seven inches of new snow blanketing the city.

When men were all asleep the snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,
Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town;
Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing;
Lazily and incessantly floating down and down:
Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing;
Hiding difference, making unevenness even,
Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.
All night it fell, and when full inches seven
It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness,
The clouds blew off from a high and frosty heaven;
And all woke earlier for the unaccustomed brightness
Of the winter dawning, the strange unheavenly glare:
The eye marvelled - marvelled at the dazzling whiteness;
The ear hearkened to the stillness of the solemn air;
No sound of wheel rumbling nor of foot falling,
And the busy morning cries came thin and spare.
Then boys I heard, as they went to school, calling,
They gathered up the crystal manna to freeze
Their tongues with tasting, their hands with snowballing;
Or rioted in a drift, plunging up to the knees;
Or peering up from under the white-mossed wonder!'
'O look at the trees!' they cried, 'O look at the trees!'
With lessened load a few carts creak and blunder,
Following along the white deserted way,
A country company long dispersed asunder:
When now already the sun, in pale display
Standing by Paul's high dome, spread forth below
His sparkling beams, and awoke the stir of the day.
For now doors open, and war is waged with the snow;
And trains of sombre men, past tale of number,
Tread long brown paths, as toward their toil they go:
But even for them awhile no cares encumber
Their minds diverted; the daily word is unspoken,
The daily thoughts of labour and sorrow slumber
At the sight of the beauty that greets them, for the charm they have broken.

Bridges' lines foreshadowed the magical effect of snowfall on adults and children alike, as real life mirrored fiction (and poetry). Alas, no one has been yet been spotted running through the snow in knickers and trainers, or snogging Colin Firth on a snowy street corner!

Exchange rate drama!

Sometime this weekend the dollar-pound exchange rate dropped below $1.50. I know this because, when I was unable to sleep at 2:30 a.m. this morning, I hopped onto the computer and looked it up. $1.49 and decimals. I then sang myself to sleep with lullabies of "the pound is falling, the pound is falling."

When I last checked a bit ago, it was back to $1.50. Still, that's a number that hasn't been seen in years!

I've been debating in recent weeks how low the pound would need to go before it would make sense to take some money to a bank and exchange it (or buy English traveler's checks) in anticipation of next spring's trip. Not enough to fund the whole trip, but enough for cash spending money. Obviously I'd lose some on the exchange, so the deal would need to be pretty good.

Of course, that leads to dilemma number 2. What if the exchange rate is better in the spring? On the other hand, what if it is worse? Like it was in 2007 and 2006? Then I'd be kicking myself.

What will probably happen is that inertia will keep me from even making the decision to exchange or not exchange, and I'll end up just taking my chances in the spring. But I'm sure I'll be debating this question all along the way.

I must leave for England immediately!

The exchange rate has dropped below $1.60. It has not been this low for years! I am ready to travel. Well, I guess I can't go right now. I am just praying it stays low for the trip to Bath in March 2009. This is encouraging enough for me to consider adding on a few days in expensive London. Surely this must be good for the English tourism industry, if a low exchange rate encourages Americans to travel to England again and spend our money there?

Bath, here I come!

I just signed up for the Bath Half Marathon on March 15, 2009. That means a trip to England is back on the agenda for next spring!