tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31034689974118152042025-07-17T02:15:14.384-04:00(It's pronounced Rock Garden) I garden, I run, I hike, I take pictures. I'm a multi-tasking whirlwind who wishes she had more time to do more things. Adventure awaits!Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.comBlogger191125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-70991181798520852892020-11-16T16:20:00.002-05:002020-11-16T16:20:23.246-05:00

 I have always been a dog person.  I mean, I am an animal person.  Snakes, lizards, rats, mice, gerbils, frogs, turtles, a cat, and the family dog.  But when I reached my adult life, boy did I want a dog.  I wanted a dog so much that I convinced my husband that he liked dogs too, and in the summer of 2006, I found Zoe.I had researched my breeds, and read how Australian

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-87353614374906566602019-10-15T11:54:00.001-04:002019-10-15T11:54:15.502-04:00

Way back in 2015 I did this little thing where I finished the 100 mile race at Oil Creek. Dale Hrach, my dad, paced me the last seven miles, and really got me to the finish, since my race-addled, sleep deprived brain only focused on getting back to the school so that he could pace me that last seven miles. Ever since then, I've been nagging him a little that he should do the 50k with me.&nbsp

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-27204543624240062862019-01-09T22:27:00.001-05:002019-01-09T22:27:05.121-05:00

It had been a while since I saw her.  And she's gone now.  I'm sad, but not as sad as I think I should be.  If I had kept in touch.  This keeps being a story with me.  I think I do this to myself, because I'm bad with grief.  And now, I have to grieve in a way that I can. So I will miss the person who helped in raising me.  She wasn't my mom, or my grandma.&

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-24324023521374618452018-10-09T15:55:00.002-04:002018-10-09T15:55:36.492-04:00

I didn't train much this summer. I wanted to.  I tried to.  I'd set my alarm for 5am, and lay out my work out clothes, and then, when that alarm played it's pretty music, I'd thump snooze about 14 times, and then have to get up and actually get ready for work instead of going for that pre-dawn run or do that workout on the treadmill. I was hired at a full time job this summer, which

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-9405477669447037632018-08-20T12:35:00.000-04:002018-08-20T12:37:47.105-04:00

When I was a freshman in college, I visited a pet store, and having owned several lovebirds, I saw this lovely baby gray and white cockatiel.  I bought him, and brought him home with me.  I taught him to whistle, and my dad taught him to not whistle, and he was mostly grumpy and his favorite thing was to sit on the windowsill and yell at blue jays. I woke up this morning to find my

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-57680784984516678122018-08-05T21:32:00.004-04:002018-08-06T07:39:08.962-04:00

It's difficult to explain to my circle of friends and family and co workers what it's like to go off on one of these weekends of doing an ultra race, or crewing or pacing, and then coming home after.  Especially when you come home to just your loyal dogs, and no people to really talk to about your adventure. It almost feels imaginary.  Or I was off on a different planet, consorting with

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-88082901097706058412018-08-02T22:09:00.003-04:002018-08-02T22:09:55.115-04:00

I have a confession to make.  I didn't go grocery shopping this week.  I ate hot dogs for lunch all week.  And toaster oven pizza for dinner.  And chips.  There may not been an actual vegetable consumed this week that wasn't some kind of bi-product tomato. My son is in Sweden with his father for their summer vacation together this week, so I've been on my own.  I go

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-9462382116837329762018-04-08T23:02:00.000-04:002018-04-08T23:02:13.621-04:00

It's been a while since I've written here.  I've sat here a few times, and pondered deep words and not easy words to write about how I've been doing great, or not so great, how I've been putting in the miles and the time, and how it's much much harder to keep going and doing than to just lay down and... not. But I've never been one to take an easy road, so here I am, a year later, and on

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-12304661111599414132017-10-16T16:36:00.004-04:002017-10-16T16:58:06.865-04:00

I try to be a good person.  Cheerful, encouraging, because I feel like this world needs it.  I am my own worst critic, and this summer was miserable for me for training, because my heart and head haven't been in it. But I was signed up for Oil Creek 100, the 100k distance (that's 62 miles, two loops of the course), and I went into it knowing I would enjoy the time, run with friends,

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-14804765794365314982017-08-15T20:48:00.000-04:002017-08-15T20:48:09.590-04:00

There was a video game that came out a while ago, called Katamari Damacy.  You played as this... large rolling ball, and you rolled over things and they stuck to you.  You were gathering pieces of the universe, to put it back together. The name of the game translates roughly to "Clumped soul," and what are we doing in life, so much as rolling through, gathering the things we want to

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-70735765623726193062017-06-18T19:26:00.001-04:002017-06-18T19:26:19.580-04:00

I'm hitting a low point in my brain lately.  I keep hearing about my ex-husband and his new girl, and I have to admit, as much as I'm trying to be accepting and happy for him, I'm sad for me.  So I'm going to start looking for someone myself. I want someone to watch the rain roll in, and who wouldn't be worried about standing outside and getting wet as the wind whips up around us. &

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-50503549987567967492017-05-10T07:49:00.001-04:002018-08-06T10:30:06.765-04:00

(Part One, if you missed it. Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.) Day four started out cold.  It had been the coldest over-night so far, with clear skies, though over night, a few drizzles moved in, and the morning was cloudy and cool.  We got going, knowing this was our shortest mileage day, and that we would be back home before the end of the day. My left shin and ankle

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-37118689902161910512017-05-08T20:24:00.003-04:002018-08-06T10:29:57.822-04:00

(Part One, if you missed it. Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.) Now, before I get into day three, I've been painting this trip as realistically as I can, while skipping some of the more... trivial details.  Truth is, I was pretty comfortable on the trail.  Going to the bathroom isn't an issue, I've been peeing outside since I was little (I felt that it was unfair that

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-14793411066675252202017-05-07T21:34:00.003-04:002018-08-06T10:29:49.022-04:00

Part One, if you missed it. Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. Day Two started out slow.  There's something about waking up outside, but in a tent, as the dark gets a little less dark, and maybe you here a chirp of bird-song, and you can start to see the side of the tent in front of you, and though you're not sure what time it is, you're awake, and you get moving. We had breakfast,

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-17520817820910813232017-05-06T19:56:00.003-04:002018-08-06T10:29:33.967-04:00

(Part One, if you missed it. Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.) I try to pass myself off as a pretty knowledgable outdoors-woman.  I can point at a plant or critter outside and identify it at least part of the time, I can eat certain things growing outside and know that I won't get sick or die, and I can stay out in the woods during the night while doing ultra-running feats

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-24267870595432422682017-01-13T19:19:00.002-05:002017-01-13T19:19:57.603-05:00

My life is fiction based.  It's not that I've faked my way through my life, but I've grown up on books and novels that paint the heroine as strong and independent, but not independent enough to go it alone, to stand on her own and face the plot of the story unassisted. Ok, maybe there were a few books that started out with our main character puts on her armor, shines her sword, slays the

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-86034290465572547972017-01-08T20:44:00.002-05:002017-01-08T20:44:09.020-05:00

I have this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.  It’s called the unknown.  I’m scared.  I’m sleeping in the spare bedroom with my dogs, and hearing my child unhindered and hopeful about the future makes me envious.  I don’t know where I’ll be in a year.  I’m not sure where I’ll be in a month.  I wanted to take this slowly, but I’m looking at rentals, being forced

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-21755713890502699642017-01-07T09:21:00.003-05:002017-01-07T09:21:23.547-05:00

I'm grieving right now.  I'm grieving for my life.  That sounds really dramatic, but my husband and I came to the decision to separate, then to divorce, and my life, as I have known it for 18 or so years, is passing away. This isn't like losing a loved one.  That grief is sharp and poignant and lasting. This grief is burning.  I have been pushed into the flame, and things

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-83307079449005507072016-10-10T18:51:00.001-04:002016-10-10T18:51:13.146-04:00

It's not good to be a hypocrite.  I was for many years, and I still am.  I am also, however, not proud.  When something happens, and I have to alter my path, I do it.  I do my best to be strong, to be cheerful, to keep moving through everything life throws at me.  Sometimes we trip and fall, and when we get up, we dust off, alter our path a little, and keep going. I

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-71549265898410880422016-08-14T22:19:00.000-04:002016-08-14T22:31:26.408-04:00

These are the Fables.  That's the song that line in the title is from.  The line ran through my head a lot this past Saturday as I ran through the woods in the middle of Pennsylvania, building my own fables in my head. The wilds were certainly calling me, but when it's 90+ degrees and 95% humidity and calling for rain and storms one has to be of a... particular frame of mind.  I

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-12654894030748765922016-06-12T20:56:00.001-04:002016-06-12T20:56:51.677-04:00

I've been struggling a little bit lately in my own head to figure out what kind of person I want to be.  I like a lot of things.  I like running.  I like hiking.  I like kayaking, biking and geocaching.  I like doing these things alone, or with friends or family.  I like gardening, I like reading, I like video games.  I have this secret ambition to learn to

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-29820855050207935052016-05-22T20:02:00.003-04:002016-05-22T20:02:57.462-04:00

It's a good thing that I have a bad memory.  Ok, it's not that bad.  It's probably typical for an almost 38 year old woman.  I guess it's a good thing that I don't remember the things that I haven't enjoyed very much in life.  Like pain.  Or nightmares. The Glacier Ridge Ultra is kind of like that.  Not that it's painful, or nightmarish (at least not too nightmarish

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-90659590110049195962015-10-18T16:44:00.003-04:002015-10-18T16:44:59.882-04:00

It's been a week and a few hours since I finished the Oil Creek 100 miler.  I haven't run much more than a few feet here or there, just to test out the legs, but I feel pretty good.  I've done several hikes and walks, and my body felt pretty good overall.  The chafing issues healed pretty much within three days.  My second toe on each foot are pretty messed up.  I had a

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-21912445346868639032015-10-13T23:28:00.001-04:002015-10-13T23:44:25.812-04:00

When you bite off more than you can chew, the polite thing isn't to spit it out, it's to do whatever you can do swallow.  And let me tell you, I choked down a bite about 38 miles too big for me to even fit in my mouth.  The 2015 Oil Creek Trail runs.  I knew I was running 100 miles this year.  Nothing was going to stop me.  See, I had this (not so) little surgery

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103468997411815204.post-59717618621353875022015-08-31T19:45:00.002-04:002015-08-31T19:56:07.272-04:00

I found out a couple months ago that this would be the very last Mega Transect as it is known to me.  As it is known to the people that have run it all 13 years.  As it is known to people that have run it two years, or however many years people can get out to this magical little place in the heart of the woods in the center of our state. It was my third year, and I signed up for the

Hrach_Gardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03754082573998676409noreply@blogger.com0