Paint By Number, Part Deux

We've painted nearly every square inch of the inside of our house (Paint By Number, I Wish) and, labor aside, that has been an ongoing task of color choice. Now we're taking on the outside of the house.

We've wanted to paint the house from the start. I almost didn't buy it because it was such an eyesore. The new color should bring a vast improvement to corner appeal and moreover seal the home from pests. Dealing with possums once was enough. I don't want to have to punch bees in the face.

Over the past three years, we got the interior colors about 60% right the first time. We replaced the kitchen from oak stain to yellow to brown back to red mahogany stain, the guest bathroom from baby blue to tan, and I'm tempted to change the mud room from red to navy in short time.

Oh, and on the subject of all that painting, I am NOT painting the outside of the house. I'm taking a break and leaving this very visible task to a family friend that we're hiring. All that prep, all that painting. Oy. I'm gladly taking on a fence replacement project instead.

Compared to choosing those interior colors, choosing the paint for the outside hasn't been an easier process. We need to be at 100% the first time, so we've belabored the color selection process. The back of our house is now a checkerboard of green swatches.

We started with greens that were more blue than yellow and weren't impressed by the first couple colors we tried. They looked too much like turquoise. We went back to the paint store and tried a couple more colors that leaned toward browns and yellows and they were a lot closer to the "olive" that we'd been looking for. Of course, the colors weren't called olive, they were "Cress Green" and "Woolen Vest."

Still, after staring at those colors after a couple of weeks, we wanted to try a couple more just to be sure. Leave it to my wife to throw me off and pick a bright blue out of nowhere, which ended up looking more like bubblegum.

The other colors, including one called "Sweet Annie," were close but didn't make the cut. In the end, "Cress Green" was our choice (or it is for now!). The home should be painted by the third week of July, so stay posted for pictures! This is Cress Green in sunlight and shadow with the trim, "Morocco Sand," in the middle.

Because we're in a bit of a waiting game now, we threw down at the local farmer's market for a couple of flowering dogwood trees for our exterior yard for instant gratification. They're young, but they'll grow!

The Slow Recovery From Sunburn at Elevation

I'd say windburn did the damage to my eyes and face, but windburn is just technically a sunburn.

As I mentioned in my earlier post about climbing to Camp Muir, conditions were not great. Our preparation wasn't either.

No one wore suntan lotion, which was of course the greatest of errors. No one thought about it during the day because we were under heavy clouds and getting nailed by mixed precipitation most of the climb. Though most of us brought sunglasses, no one brought glacier glasses (which give greater coverage) and the sunglasses weren't cutting it in the rain, snow and high winds that blasted our faces and left the open skies and sun at Camp Muir to fry us.

Shortly after the climb, I felt that my nose got a burn, and that didn't really surprise me because it was the only part of my face not covered by my hat and hood. Otherwise, everyone felt good at the end of the day, and Amanda and I went out for sushi that evening to celebrate our achievement and reload on calories.

When I woke up the next morning, it was a different story as illustrated by the Day 1 image. I could hardly open my eyes and only did so when I needed to walk around and orient myself. I "took pictures" of my surroundings in between blinks and kept my eyes shut to settle the stinging. Amanda had a decent sunburn, but that was all. Scott also dealt with one eye swollen shut (lucky!) that required some steroid eye drops. The rest of our party was relatively unscathed besides sunburns. I guess I just had the most sensitive skin out of the bunch and couldn't handle the double-dose of UV coming through the clouds and bouncing off the snow.

Amanda nursed me back to health with homeopathic treatment, prescribing regular icing on my eyes, aloe vera and emu oil -- oil rendered from the fat of an emu, greasy and shiny -- on my skin , and vitamin E oil on my lips. I ended up going to the Urgent Care on Day 3 just to see if I could speed up the recovery process with some good drugs and prevent infection for my blistering skin. The doctor gave me a steroid cream and a dose of pity.

After my skin tightened up from the steroid cream, I peeled like a snake for a couple days and finally started feeling normal again. My eyes weren't irritated and I regained elasticity in my face. I mostly felt like an idiot for the week because I know I have sensitive skin and have a solid couple decades of sunburn memories that serve as reminders, but the excitement and anxiety for that climb blinded my better judgement.

As you can see in the Day 8 picture, I'm back to normal. I'm thankful I can see and make expressions again and am especially thankful for having a patient and tolerant wife!

Now, you'll have to excuse me as I need to head to the drugstore to pick up some suntan lotion. It's looking cloudy outside.

The Long, Windy Hike to Camp Muir

(Photo by Jon Mancuso, www.jonmancuso.com)

The warning signs were there.

About 1.5 miles along our 10-mile roundtrip, 5,000-foot elevation gain to Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier, we saw a group of three climbers coming down toward us.

"There's no break up there. It doesn't get better. We're headed back," a woman in the group told us.

We had already taken a 40-minute detour toward the Nisqually Glacier because of vertigo-like whiteout conditions, but we were nevertheless determined to continue onward and reach our goal.

My coworker Jon was in town from Sun Valley and asked about climbing to Camp Muir -- base camp for Rainier summit attempts -- earlier in the week. I wanted to try the strenuous climb and of course drug Amanda along with me. Scott and Mike called me the night before about climbing Yakima Peak and I convinced them to join us at Paradise, Mt. Rainier, at 8 a.m. on Saturday.

The group got on the trail around 8: 30 a.m. Despite our early misstep and passing the woman with the warning, we were climbing strong and kept a good pace for the first few hours. Amanda changed socks during the first break because her boots were already soaked from snow. After the break, Scott and I started alternating packs as his was about 75 lbs. of ski equipment and mine was 10 lbs. of water, clothing layers and food (who packed smarter?). Normally, Scott would never let anyone else carry his pack on a climb, but he was fairly hungover from the previous night. Mike, also carrying a heavy ski pack and Jon, carrying camera equipment, led the way.

Unfortunately, Jon and Mike got a little too far ahead when Amanda and I were ready to call it quits. We were about 2/3 of the way up the hike, which we originally anticipated would be the whole length of the hike, and with winds reaching 50 mph and snow torpedoing along with it, we weren't motivated to keep going. Scott was with us at that leg, and we all convinced each other to keep going to catch up. We kept a slow and steady pace until we broke above the cloud layer and could see Camp Muir. I relieved Scott again and carried his pack to the top while Amanda nearly sprinted ahead as she was ready to reach the top and rest.

Scott hobbled in behind me and took a breath, not so easy at 10,080 feet. Camp Muir is slightly more elaborate than a homeless camp. The sheds, occupied by independent climbers and guided summit groups are small and cramped. Modern luxuries are sparse. At least there's a bathroom. Amanda, Jon and I kicked it with the NPS Rangers in their hut until Scott and Mike skied down the hill. We took off shortly thereafter, alternating between slushing down in the warmed snow and glissading where we had the chance. My lips felt burnt, but otherwise I felt in great shape especially after a climb in unfavorable conditions like that.

That was until the next morning. More on that later. For now, more pictures courtesy of Jon and Amanda...

Me, Scott and Amanda hiking back from the Nisqually Glacier "detour." Photo by Jon Mancuso, www.jonmancuso.com.

Mike smiling about the visibility.

Me and Amanda with a glimpse of Rainier in the background.

Me and Scott.

Amanda relieved to be above the cloud layer.

I've looked better, but I just hiked a 5,000-foot elevation and have a 75-lb. backpack on, OK? Photo by Jon Mancuso, www.jonmancuso.com.

Mike relaxing at Camp Muir.

Me and Amanda at Camp Muir.

NPS Rangers at Camp Muir.

Amanda jumping a huge crevasse. Kidding. It's just a stream.

Me, Jon and Amanda back in the Paradise parking lot after the descent.

FAIL: I Lost My Wedding Ring Snorkeling in Maui

On our tropical vacation, I managed to make the most cliché mistake ever -- losing my wedding ring while snorkeling. I'm not as upset as I am surprised I let that happen. While Amanda and I were walking down to the beach to go snorkeling, I commented that I should have left it back up at the condo. We shrugged it off. It didn't take more than two minutes in the water before I realized the ring was no longer on my finger.

There are three likely fates for the ring:

1. It's lost forever and belongs now to the sea, like Captain Jack Sparrow.

2. Some creepy guy with a metal detector finds it when the tide is low within the next three months. The ring is then promptly sold to a pawn shop for $50. A local 17-year-old girl buys the ring for $90 for her boyfriend to celebrate their first anniversary. Two months later, they break up and the boyfriend throws the ring back out into the sea out of anger and resentment. Repeat.

3. In some distant future, after earth has been abandoned and the oceans have evaporated, a humanoid finds the ring on an exploratory mission for remaining signs of life. The ring is appraised for three times its original value on a syndicated entertainment show called "Pawn Stars," as predicted by Jimmy Hickey.

So anyway, I'll probably pick up a couple inexpensive, ceramic rings to replace it. You can get some great deals for them on eBay.

In all seriousness (though I am seriously replacing it via eBay), I am super bummed not to have my ring. It is just a plain white-gold band, not of any significant monetary value and about as common as a white guy winning American Idol, but it was important to me.

When we were still in the water, I apologized profusely to Amanda.

Without much emotion she replied, "The ring isn't sentimental. The marriage is." She dunked back into the water and continued exploring the seabed.

And with that wisdom, I followed her lead.

Sciatica is a Pain in the Ass

Well, more a pain in the lower back and right leg. I have self-diagnosed myself with sciatica. Remember, I worked a half-second in healthcare... ok healthcare marketing, but my diagnosis is still legit! All it took was some online research and Dad's genealogical confirmation. Unfortunately, I'm dealing with sciatica at age 29. Dad was in his late thirties before he started having chronic lower back pain.

According to the U.S. National Library of Medicine, sciatica "refers to pain, weakness, numbness, or tingling in the leg. It is caused by injury to or pressure on the sciatic nerve. Sciatica is a symptom of another medical problem, not a medical condition on its own... Sciatica occurs when there is pressure or damage to the sciatic nerve. This nerve starts in the lower spine and runs down the back of each leg. This nerve controls the muscles of the back of the knee and lower leg and provides sensation to the back of the thigh, part of the lower leg, and the sole of the foot."

I have all that and a bag of chips.

I'm fairly sure a lower back injury four years ago is haunting me. Back then, I had muscle spasms after a session of running stairs near Golden Gardens in Seattle. I was out for a couple days and the pain was excruciating. This time, the culprit is a crappy indoor soccer field in Tacoma where I played early morning indoor soccer most of the winter wearing crappy shoes. The pain wasn't terrible, but enough to make me stop playing indoor soccer.

But I can't stop playing soccer altogether. After a 10-year break, I am really enjoying getting back into the sport and competing in the men's league with a bunch of guys out of high school and college. My game is still good and rather excellent considering the length of hiatus and youth of my teammates and competitors. These youngsters can run fast, but they don't have the fundamentals or vision of the game. Advantage: Paolo.

Hence, I continue to aggrevate my back week after week on those Sunday soccer games. A common recommendation for minimizing sciatica is to stay active. It's not something that you sit and wait to heal. I just don't know if running balls out (not literally) for 90 minutes is exactly aligned with that advice.

My mind is WAY ahead of my body when it comes to playing soccer week after week. Because I am conscious of this, I make sure to warm-up and stretch before the game and cool down and stretch after the game. I have probably never been so limber, but the recovery period for my back and legs gets longer and longer.

I'm limping around on Tuesday after a big game Sunday. I notice it the most when I get out of the car at work after the 75-minute drive out to Ashford. I have to "shake out" my right leg to get it going when I climb out of the Jeep. It all gets back to the sciatica and the way I sit in certain positions. I've gotten into a good habit (I think) of standing at the coffee bar when I work around Tacoma, so I don't get stuck in a bad sitting posture.

Lately, the sciatica symptoms have improved. I'm not limping or getting shooting pains down my leg as often. Sometimes my sleep positions aggravate my back, but there's not much I can do about that.

The sciatica isn't going away, but neither is my ambition to stay active through it and minimize its impact. I'm aiming and training for a Rainier summit this summer, which is a 9,000-foot elevation gain and something like 17 miles roundtrip carrying a 20-40 lb. backpack (depending on the leg of the climb) over two days. Many people have more physical disadvantages or ailments than I do. I figure I might as well take advantage of the otherwise good health I have, while I have it!

Sciatica symptoms will be annoying, but they're more motivating to stay healthy than slow down.