The Thunk.

@postaday 349; #postaday2011.

Sunset tonight from the Maunalua Bay Bridge at Koko Marina. I got to see the green flash tonight!

I really have a lot going on lately! Tonight I did my #5kin100days week 11 workout 2, which was a 15-minute warm-up walk followed by four 8-minute runs with a 1-minute break between them. Then there’s a 5-minute cool down walk. I paused on the Koko Marina Bridge to take pictures of the sunset and to witness the green flash. THAT was cool. It was kind of spectacular tonight, so I’m glad I took the route I did. So that stalled me a little bit. If it weren’t for that stop, I’d probably have had a sub-15-minute mile. Yes, no one said I was fast, but I am getting stronger. In fact, I find myself not feeling the run, and then I find myself feeling not feeling the run, so I start feeling the run, and then I try to stop feeling the run again. I think that’s me trying to break through the mesh that takes one beyond the pain of running. But what do I know? I did 3.91 miles tonight. I do not know if I could endure any more than 5 miles, which is a mark I seem to be closing in on. And then, there’s part of me that doesn’t really care if I do that or not.

One of last winter's avocados, which landed in a giant agave.

I get home and I crack open one of the avocados I harvested from the backyard Sharwil tree and make guacamole for Kid1 and me. It was perfect. Some years I never eat the avocados; I just make guacamole or California rolls I serve on New Year’s Eve. Here I was sitting at my laptop, munching on my personal nachos plate when Kid2 announces that she heard an avocado hit the ground. The Thunk.

You’d think my girls would be as excited about finding the hidden emerald peewee footballs  that drop each winter as I am. But nope. They hear them, they tell me about where it might have landed, and out I go with a flashlight, my iPhone tucked in my shorts, and a couple of cat escorts. When I find them, I sometimes have to bend and stretch and flex and risk my life to retrieve them. Once I get them, I sometimes have to slap the ants off them, or bring them to the kitchen and give them a brisk spray to send the ants down the drain.

Then they sit on the counter. Why? Because apparently, I am not only the Avocado Huntress, I am also the Avocado Executioner, wielding my giant chopping knives with finesse, scooping out the pulp, avoiding little bugs or mold or bite marks of indeterminate sources (I think I know). Then I am the Avocado Goddess, mashing or chopping or massaging the green shiny pulp with lime, salt, salsa, cilantro. I think about smearing it on my hair, face, neck, and décolletage because it’s free, and because it’s supposed to work miracles on those areas, and I could use some miracles. Then I come to my senses and instead eat the avocado and it’s wonderful quantities of monounsaturated fats, potassium, vitamins B, E, and K; it’s LDL-cholesterol lowering capabilities; and it’s possible benefits of helping prevent cancer and helping cure diabetes. Really!

Maybe, just maybe, avocados will help me be a super athlete, too!

Here’s a little 96-second video: 

By lavagal

Hawaii Kai wife and mom. Melanoma Stage 3a Cancer survivor. English Language Arts teacher, English Learners Coordinator, and Paraprofessional Tutor. Super sub teacher. Dormant triathlete. Road cyclist and Masters swimmer. Gardener. Mrs. Fixit. Random dancer. Music Curator. A teenager trapped in an aging body. Did you know 60 is the new 40? It is.


  1. 3.91 miles. Almost 4. Well done. This distance already puts you in a catagory of near “elitedom”. I once had read that X% of Americans could not run a single mile asked. I don’t quite remember the percentage, but it was huge. We’ve, as Americans, have gotton so used of having mechanical conveyances to transport us from point A to point B, i.e., autos, trucks, elevators, escalators, moving sidewalks, it’s almost as if we don’t need to use our legs any more for personal mobility. Our legs have nearly become an afterthought in this mechanized world of ours. So when you think to yourself “Oh, I ran just 3 miles at 15 mph pace”, be proud. Be a braggart about it. Because you know what? Scant few could run 3 miles at ANY pace, let alone a mile. John is correct. You are indeed officially a runner and have been one since the day you completed your first run.

  2. Mahalo, John and Randy. Elite? I never thought of it that way! That’s a good point! Makes me feel a bit accomplished!

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