43 Things I'd like to do before I die: Run a marathon
Learn Sign Language Learn how to knit
Donate blood on a regular basis
Juggle
Win every game of Freecell
Ride RAGBRAI
Do an Ironman Triathlon
Visit Europe
"Accidentally" walk into the men's locker room
Scuba dive
(Molasses sandwich cookies with cinnamon icing, in case you were curious.)
(And they are FREAKING DELICIOUS, might I add.)
My phone rang. It was the St. Paul police department. Someone had broken into my car.
AT 2PM IN THE AFTERNOON. That's broad daylight, for those of you keeping track at home.
Luckily, someone had witnessed the crime and immediately called the police.
Unluckily, the three bastards broke my passenger window, rooted through my car, and stole my GPS.
My passenger seat. Anyone want a ride?
Luckily, I have insurance so I only had to shell out $100 to get the window replaced.
Unluckily, the GPS wasn't covered.
Check out my sweet new GPS. In some circles it's called PAPER.
But I am safe. My car is fine. The window is fixed.
The silver lining to this cloudy story? My car is the cleanest it has ever been. When the window was fixed, they vacuumed out all the shards of glass...along with the sand, dirt, stray Cheetos and Starburst wrappers. Score!!
Akos dug into his Suitcase of Courage for a strong win last night.
He set the cat on fire.
I'm only half kidding.
I was in the kitchen, baking cookies, when I noticed something. A smell. I checked the oven. Nope, the cookies were fine. But something was burning. Something like...hair.
Nay, FUR.
Roxie's ass was smoking. AKOS SET THE CAT ON FIRE.
So he was nowhere near her when her ass wandered upon the candle sitting on the counter...but I think it's clear that through some sort of mind control technique, he made her wag her little ass over the open flame.
I think it's obvious - Akos is the clear victor. Roxie won many battles...but Akos won the war.
He fooled many with his sweet face...but believe me, THIS DOG CANNOT BE TRUSTED.
And so ends the Akos vs. Roxie fight series - Akos is heading home tonight. I'm sad. Roxie is ecstatic.
Editor's note: Roxie is fine - she only singed off the ends of some of her butt fur. In fact, I don't think she even realized that she did it.
And by "fight to the death," I mean Roxie will glare menacingly while emitting a low frequency growl until Akos notices a butterfly fluttering outside the window and OOOH boy butterflyButterflyBUTTERFLY! ALSO, BUTTERFLYYYYY!
Fighter Bios:
ROXIE Weight: 8 pounds Signature move: Hiss, lunge and swat combo Favorite color: Pink Roxie has been featured on ESPN's Friday Night Fights as the "Crabby Tabby."
Can you hear the grrrrrrrrowl through the Interwebs??
AKOS Weight: 50 pounds Signature move: Smothering opponent with his tongue Special talent: Akos has lightning fast speed. He was clocked going 34mph as he raced into the kitchen after hearing a piece of carrot hit the kitchen floor. Favorite color: Light grey Back in Akos' youth, he won more medals and ribbons than you can shake a stick at.
Editor's note: As a medal whore, I am a little bit jealous of all of the bling this dog has acquired
Akos wears a crocheted cape while in the ring. Also while he naps on the couch.
Fights are held daily at the Allycat Theatre in Minneapolis, MN. Tickets are available through Ticketmaster.
I don't know about you...but I've got $50 on Roxie. :)
Ryan is out of town for the week, so his Sweet Lil' Pup Big Manly Dog is staying with Roxie and me for a few days.
Have I mentioned Roxie before? She's a bitch (just calling 'em like I see 'em). She is very fond of me, but not-so-fond of anyone (or anything) else. Roxie is a Cancer and enjoys long walks on the beach. She likes to hiss, growl, and scratch at strangers. She sounds like fun, yes?
I've done two marathons, each a new PW. It hurts my soul to get slower with each race.
I've been faking triathlon training. Seriously, faking it for seven months. It has not been pretty.
Every workout I've done is with a group. I swim with the masters group. I bike with the TCBC. I run with the Roseville club.
I don't enjoy training.
I don't enjoy running.
I don't enjoy racing.
So WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF?
Because I used to enjoy these things.
'Tis true. This blog is proof. I used to go out for runs, care about the distance, care about the pace, and nail my times. With each workout I could feel myself improving. It was challenging and rewarding.
So where did that go?
I think it got lost. Lost in the shuffle. I've stopped paying attention to what I need and instead focusing more on what the group was doing. Group is doing a speed workout? I guess I'll do a speed workout. Group is biking 30 miles at 16mph? Guess I'll bike 30 miles at 16mph.
I need to get back to basics. Back to where it all began.
Running.
Alone.
Running used to be my therapy - now it's the reason I NEED therapy. :)
And yes, it sounds selfish, but I believe it's what I need. In the process of attaching myself to these groups, I lost a little bit of myself. I lost my "me" time. I lost the time where I work through the stress of life. I lost the time where I could let my thoughts wander and my imagination run wild.
And those close to me will agree - I haven't been as happy this year as I was last year. I am not the happy runner trotting along the path, flashing my Colgate smile. I am the curmudgeonly plodster, giving you the finger. :)
I've already done a few runs this week to test this theory. After my first solo run I finished with so much positive energy, proclaiming "I am SO GLAD that I signed up for back-to-back-to-back marathons!" Yesterday I warmed up with Ryan but then we split off to do our own workouts. It was the best of both worlds - and I had a great run.
Day 1: Rode 2 hours with the TCBC. Yaaay! Biking is fun! Day 2: Rode 20 minutes. Not too horrible. Day 3: Rode 30 minutes - most of it in aero. Actually enjoyable.
With this trend, you'd think that I'd stick with it. It was fun, right??
Day 4: (insert the "whummmp" sound as my body collapsed into the couch) Day 5: (insert sound of crickets) Day 6: (insert sound of rain - WHO RIDES IN RAIN? Not this girl) Day 7: (insert sound of teeth chattering - I did an open water swim and it was 49 degrees. Guess who doesn't have a wetsuit? Guess who was hypothermic after the swim? Guess who didn't bike?) Day 8: (insert the sound of my ass expanding)
Yeah. June-a-thon. Going really well.
So it's weird that after months of procrastinating, I FINALLY sent in my registration for the Half Ironman. On the day I profess my hatred of the bike. Gah, why do I keep doing this to myself??
Yesterday, on of my runner girls asked me if I had any mental mojo tips...she was in a funk and just couldn't get motivated.
Dude. Does this girl even KNOW who she is talking to?? I? I am the LAST person to ask about motivation. Let's take a look at my workouts from December through...well...March. :) I had ZERO motivation until a few weeks ago.
But I'm a big fan of doling out preachy advice, so I responded anyway. :)
So this is how I answered her question. She said it should be published...and that's when I remembered, that, HEY! I HAVE A BLOG. A blog where I talk about running and this type of thing. A blog that has been abandoned the past few weeks. So...
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Motivation is such a tricky thing. If I knew how to lasso some up and put it my back pocket, I would.
Sometimes the promise of a reward motivates me. Sometimes it doesn't.
Sometimes the thrill of a workout motivates me. Sometimes it doesn't.
Sometimes, no matter what I try, I cannot get motivated.
Sometimes I want to skip workouts because I am physically exhausted.
Sometimes I want to skip workouts because I am emotionally exhausted.
Sometimes I skip workouts.
In my opinion, it's early enough in the season that you shouldn't fret. I have skipped more workouts that I care to admit, yet I have crossed that finish line Every Time. Sometimes you just need a break, and skipping a workout will give you the rest that your body is craving.
But think about how good you feel after a run. The endorphins. The runner's high. The feeling of accomplishment.
Sometimes the best way to beat a case of the 'blahs' is with a run.
So I cannot summon your motivation...but I can tell you this. Listen to your body. What is it telling you? Do you need a rest? Do you need to be talked into or out of today's workout?? Training plans are by no means "one size fits all." What works for someone else may not work for you. That's the beauty of training...learning what your body likes and learning what your brain likes.
I've been dating this guy. A tasty man-snack that I will call...Thor. No, not his real name.
So when I was dog-sitting for JD, Thor came over, we went for a run and then we ordered Chinese takeout.
After dinner, we were sitting on the couch, with a cozy fire in the background, lounging with the pooches...and watching cable.
Cable Television.
CABLE!!
I do not have cable. Thor does not have cable.
Having hundreds of channels at our disposal was making us giddy.
And so we formulated a plan. Because we had a fever, and the only cure was MORE CABLE.
Thor had the next day off from work...I was willing to take a vacation day. I felt weird, calling into my office and saying, "Hey! I need to take a day off so I can sit on the couch and watch CABLE" so I instead used the tried-and-true "Food Poisoning" excuse. Vacation-wise, my company doesn't care whether I'm watching cable or "driving the porcelain bus," so I didn't feel too horrible about my little white lie...
But apparently GOD DOES.
Because the next morning when Thor arrived...well...he didn't look so good.
He'd been sick all morning. And was sick all day. And for the rest of the weekend.
I'm pet sitting for Jen and Mark...I am the caretaker of two greyhounds, two cats and a python. Did I also mention the PYTHON??? Which, luckily, is a very low maintenance pet. A little water here and there and that's it.
But yes, I am pretty much in heaven over here. I love, love, love dogs and so I am soaking in as much puppy love as I can.
A few nights ago, I was laptopping it up on the couch and Quinn decided that snuggling next to me wasn't close enough...so he wiggled and squirmed until he was snuggled behind me, wrapped around me with his head resting on my leg.
I wish I could announce this with a trumpet fanfare, a parade with confetti, and maybe some hot go-go dancers...but I can't. Because I'm just not that enthused about it.
Because training? Starts on Monday.
As in four days from today.
I have to start my training in four days.
DUDES.
I feel like a petulant child, stomping her feet and having a tantrum.
I. Don't. Want. To.
I'm not ready to focus.
I'm not ready to start training.
I'm not ready to do speed workouts and form drills and LSDs.
I'm still in off-season mode.
I'm still mentally recovering from the marathons.
This will be my first half ironman and my first "real" triathlon. I faked a tri last summer but don't feel like a triathlete (even though I peed in the lake).
Like it or not, I am starting to prepare myself. Physically and mentally.
I'm taking swim lessons.
I know I can fake it on the bike.
I'm not worried about the run.
So do I just go for it? Start my half-assed training on Monday and just hope that the motivation will magically appear after a few weeks?
Maybe I should ponder this on the couch with a bowl of ice cream. Because technically, it's still the off-season...right? And off-season is practically synonymous with ice cream. :)
Now that I am a self-proclaimed pasta expert, I decided that I should share my talents with the world.
So I invited Ryan over for homemade pasta.
Mark and Jen have the perfect pasta setup. Large kitchen, counter space, and all the tools required to make homemade pasta. Things like...pasta drying racks.
I? Do not have these things.
What's a girl to do when she has nowhere to dry her pasta??
I went on a run with "Hottie Tri Friend" Ryan tonight (I have a new rule. I only run with hotties...so Ryan needed a nickname upgrade). The run was fantastic. It was about 30 degrees but I had layered perfectly so I was the perfect temperature. We did six miles - I have no idea what pace we ran because Carmen the Garmin? DIED. Faaak.
But.
It was a great run, so it doesn't matter how fast we went.
We grabbed Chipotle after the run to negate all of the good we'd done, and sitting in the restaurant with sweaty clothes? COLD.
Then we walked back to my place in sweaty clothes. COLD.
So I needed something steamy to warm me up. Some hot cocoa, perhaps.
Hot cocoa? Hot cocoa? Bueller? Bueller?
Nothing. No cocoa in the apartment.
But.
I did find a chocolate protein shake. So I popped it in the microwave and heated it up.
Dude, don't try this. It is just as horrible as you imagine it would be.
I got home from work yesterday and there was a pile of cookies outside my door from Hottie Neighbor. His mom sent him a fall care package and he wanted to share the love. I was more than happy to take some cookies off his hands.
I got up and went to the gym with Emily at 6am this morning.
Pitch Black.
We finished our workout and left the gym at 7am.
Still Pitch Black.
I don't think I've ever said this before, but I'm looking forward to daylight savings time.
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Yesterday was cold and rainy and windy and snowy. Nearly everyone I know made some comment about Ohhhhhh the snoooooow and I can't belieeeeeeve it's snowing in Octooooober...
I? Went out for a six mile run. Granted, the snow had stopped at that point...but it still made me feel hardcore. I had just been feeling "off" on Sunday...I think it's because this was the first weekend since FEBRUARY where I didn't have to do a long run. So I went out for six and immediately felt like myself again.
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Or maybe the reason I didn't feel like myself was because my body took a beating the night before...
Margaret had her annual Oktoberfest party...this year's twist was that it was also a costume party.
The usual cast of characters was in attendance. Time for roll call.
Jager bombs? Present.
Jello shots? Present.
"Mary Catherine Gallagher" drinking beer from the boot?
A high school friend got married...a few months ago. Yes, this is another one of those posts that should have been posted ages ago.
I have a love/hate relationship with weddings.
I love love. I love friends and family. I love celebrations. I love cake. I love dancing.
But I kind of get nervous and twitchy and anxious during the actual wedding.
If I would have married any of my previous boyfriends, it would have been something like a graceful swandive...INTO HELL. Am I afraid of relationships? Not really. Am I afraid of commitment? I don't think so. Am I afraid of spending the rest of my life with one person? Not if I'm with the right person. And that, right there, is the where I start to freak out. The Right Person. An elusive thing.
But enough of my neurotic thoughts on relationships.
Let's talk about this wedding.
Cake? Gooood.
They had individual cakes on each table and they came around and cut the first piece for us. Cute! And delicious. Made me wish I was sitting at a table by myself.
Friends? Gooood.
The bride and I used to work together at a Hallmark store - here we are with all of our former co-workers. Fun!
Cake? Gooood. Wait. Did I already mention that?
I'm not above using the serving spatula to eat the last piece of cake if you take away my fork. I'm not completely selfish...I shared the last piece with Vanessa.
One measly percent away from being at an acceptable level.
At least it's on the upswing - last time was 33%.
If I get denied for low iron again, I'm going to start taking a supplement. I know that vegetarian runners are notorious for having low iron, and I'm just worried that it could be affecting my energy levels...or something. Although I don't feel like I have low energy...
Any doctors in the house?? What do you think?
*We now return to your regularly scheduled programming*
No, no, no...not a race DNF...a blood donation DNF.
I went to donate platelets yesterday...and I was DENIED.
Turns out, you can't receive money or drugs in exchange for sex after 1977.
Kidding! Well, you can't receive money or drugs in exchange for sex and still be a blood donor...but that's not why I was denied. My hematocrit was too low. Guess it's a good thing I didn't sign up for the IronGirl Duathlon because I am obviously NOT an IronGirl!
The hematocrit cutoff is 38%. The average for women is 41%.
My count was 33%.
Word on the street is that iron levels are usually lower in runners. And because I am vegetarian, I don't get iron from meat...so I'm usually happy when my hematocrit is 38-39% (thanks to spinach).
I guess the low iron would explain why I've been tired lately. It's definitely not because I've been staying up late watching the Olympics. :)
Speaking of the Olympics, I think Megan said it best...
Is it me, or does watching the Olympics make you want to get off your dead ass and do something, like go to the pool? And I soooo would, but I am too busy watching the Olympics.
Amen, sista. No way am I getting farther than 10 feet from my couch when THIS is on:
Emily and I were at the gym yesterday morning. We were busting out some dead lifts, and I mentioned that they reminded me a little bit of the "Bend and Snap" from Legally Blonde.
C'mon. I know you've seen the movie. It's okay to admit it.
We racked up our weights and we were kind of thinking aloud about how the bend and snap is actually executed. So Emily bended...and snapped.
I have to admit, it was beautiful.
I wasn't the only one that thought this...because a fellow weight lifter came over to us and asked her, "Did you just do the 'Bend and Snap'?"
Busted! By a DUDE! (Waaaaiiittt...Guys watch Legally Blonde??)
But.
I have to give props to Legally Blonde. The 'Bend and Snap' totally works!! It's a man magnet, baby.
I was driving home from work and Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take The Wheel" started playing on the radio. I'm not sure how a country song managed to sneak into my musical diet of mainstream pop songs but that's neither here nor there. I reached down to change the station and I made eye contact with my Plastic Dashboard Jesus...
Salvation on a spring
...Yes, I have a Plastic Dashboard Jesus...when I remembered that I told Jumper that I'd bust out a rosary for him and his clavicle on my drive home from work.
So I prayed.
I was in the middle of the second decade, when I looked down and realized that I was speeding. I looked up and realized that there was a cop on the side of the road.
Crap.
He pulled out and started to follow me.
Crap.
He turned on his lights.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.
I pulled over and waited. And started saying more Hail Marys. This time they were for ME.
He started walking towards my car. Daaaammmnnnn. He was a CUTE cop. Not relevant to the story...but worth noting.
"License and insurance"...blah blah blah..."Do you know how fast you were going"....blah blah blah. I handed over my info, honestly said that I didn't know what the speed limit was or how fast I was going, and he headed back to his car to run my license and do whatever stuff cops do when they go back to their cars.
He came back. I noticed he was only holding my license.
"Try to keep it at 30 MPH on France Ave, Miss. Have a nice day."
NO TICKET. No written warning.
I finished the rest of the rosary for Jumper on the way home, and added a few extra thank you prayers to the Big JC.
But HOLY CRAP. I'm going to run a marathon in 4 days, 17 hours, 14 minutes.
Operation Freak The F' Out has officially commenced.
-----------------------------
The cold still lingers. I am still feeling phlegm-tastic and cough a bit here and there, but it has been filed under the "manageable" category. I am confident that I'll be 100% by Saturday.
I'm still doping up on vitamin C, zinc, fruits, veggies, protein (if you are what you eat, I am slowly morphing into tofu), water, and sleep. I'm treating my body right. It's the only one I've got. And I'm going to put it through the ringer on Saturday so I'm trying to be nice now so it will forgive me this weekend.
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I was going to meet Jumper after Saturday's race, but he took a nasty spill and broke a few bones. Go give him a virtual hug.
It started over a week ago Friday with a little tickle in my throat.
By the end of Saturday, after my 22-miler, my voice was gone.
I started coughing on Sunday.
Monday was awful. I went into the office but left early because my coughing was driving my co-workers (and myself) crazy.
I worked from home on Tuesday because the cough was still atrocious. Saw a doc in the morning - she said it was just a cold and would last about five days. I attempted a hill workout in the evening. FAIL.
My voice was still shot on Wednesday and I was still coughing, but I was starting to feel better...and guilty that I was out of the office so much. So I went into the office. I got lots of comments from co-workers that I sounded like crap.
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. Each day I would say, "Tomorrow I will talk normally." A co-worker suggested I pick up a second job as a phone sex operator.
It's Tuesday. I'm not talking normally. I'm still coughing. I'm still feeling tired.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
I've been taking Vitamin C. Drinking tea. Getting plenty of sleep. Eating fruits and veggies. Drinking lots of water. Praying to the Baby Jesus.
When will this end??
I was in Kansas City last weekend and got a 6-miler in on Saturday. I had 13 on the schedule but it was hot and humid - I stepped outside and spontaneously combusted. So I only ran 6. I was going to run 13 last night, but felt so worn down from work that I thought going to bed early might be a better idea.
My dilemma. Do I shoot for 13 tonight...or just resume my regular taper-ish workouts this week...and...(gasp!) Skip The Long Run? Does my body need more rest? Or does it need a kick in the pants?
Have I mentioned How Freaking Hardcore I am lately? I have been going to they gym at 6am four times a week for the past three weeks for an hour of strength training. I? Am not a morning person (but I think I'm starting to become one). On the days that I'm not up before 6, I feel groggy and bleh and out of it...which leads me to believe that (gasp!) I should get up at 6 every day.
Have I mentioned that I am a huge coffee fan?? I wasn't a coffee drinker until I started working out at 6am (coincidence??). Now? It has a death grip on my soul.
Have I mentioned that I think I'm going to do a triathlon this July? A few friends are on board for the Lifetime Triathlon at Lake Nokomis on July 12...so I thought I might as well throw my hat into the ring. I got clipless pedals and bike shoes this weekend. A friend and I got coordinating swimsuits and swim caps(see below). It's all about the gear.
I'm Lloyd (orange), she's Harry (blue)
Have I mentioned that my mom is really, really cute? She sent me flowers on the 1-year anniversary of my knee surgery with a note that said "Happy Birthday to your ACL".
Have I mentioned that (knock on wood) my IT band has been feeling a lot better lately? I've been doing hip strengthening exercises daily and foam rolling the crap out of it...and it's starting to pay off. It's still a little stiff in the morning, and for the first few minutes of a run, but the pain goes away relatively quickly. Praise the Baby Jesus.
Have I mentioned that I'm going to attempt to run my first 20-miler tomorrow? For real this time. Not like last week. :)
Last Saturday, I went to dinner with a friend from High School. Actually...she and I were friends since elementary school. Catholic School buddies!!
Anyway. We went to a restaurant in Uptown and were seated at a booth. There was another row of booths adjacent to us - divided by a tall-ish divider in the middle. When sitting in the booth, we couldn't see over the wall.
Why is this relevant?
Because as we were sitting there chatting, a napkin flew over the dividing wall. I looked around, confused. Who was throwing things at us??
It all became clear when I unfolded the napkin...
A hostage situation! Should we call 911? Alert the authorities? No. I did what I do best - I replied with a smart-ass comment.
A few minutes later another note landed on my lap.
Umm...Wha?? Okay. Whatever. My reply:
We heard them laughing at our response. Yeah, we're funny gals. And soon enough we had another airmail delivery.
Ahhhhhhhh. It's all coming together. He is flirting with us. Can you blame him?? We're smokin' hot. If someone is willing to fake Tourette's, I'm willing to bet that they have a good sense of humor. I'll give my phone number to a funny dude.
And then we heard shuffling. They were getting up to leave the restaurant. But not before one last note.
Phone numbers have been pixelated to protect the innocent.
As they walked out of the restaurant, our note-writing cohort shouted something out. I could only make out a few words...including "EGGROLL!" and "TEABAG!".
I was just thinking to myself..."Man, I wish I could blog about something other than running, but nothing exciting is happening in my life." And then a bolt of lightning burst from the sky and hit me in the face.
Only kidding.
I was hit on by a guy at work.
And crap, now that I type it out, it doesn't sound that exciting. Feel free to skip this post. Hell, even I'm already tired of reading about this event. But that's not going to stop me from writing about it, apparently.
Anyway.
So normally, yay! Getting hit on is fun! It boosts the self esteem! Makes you feel pretty!
But getting hit on at work? That's a whole 'nother story. From the top:
I like the people I work with. They're fun. We joke around. We go to happy hours. We have inside jokes. We play pranks. We know what's going on in each others lives.
So it was no surprise when one of the guys started talking to me about running. I'm kind of like a yappy four-year-old that loves to shout about her new Barbie...but I like to shout about my long runs. Hey, did I mention I ran 18 miles last weekend?
But I digress.
The Guy said he would never be able to run a marathon...he was too old and his body couldn't handle it and excuse, excuse, excuse. He's in his late 30s. He's in good shape. So I called his bluff. I told him it was a mental game. If he wanted to run a marathon, he just had to tell himself that he could. And put in the miles, of course.
And over the next two weeks, he would stop by...talk about how he ran two or three miles, and I would encourage him to keep up the good work.
And he stopped by more. And more. And more. I think he stopped by six times on Tuesday. Dude. Don't you have work to do?? But it didn't faze me. When I get excited about running, I want to talk about it too. So I was understanding. Until yesterday.
I was filling up my water bottle at the cooler, and he flagged me down. To tell me that he thought he was "starting to like me a little too much."
Waaaaaait just one second. He what? Whaaaa? Why? How? GAH.
I raised my eyebrow, looked him straight in the eye, and said "Then you'd better stop". I'm not one to BS. I cut to the chase. I don't like to lead people on. My feelings for this fella are strictly platonic. No attraction. None.
What would I do if I laid it out there..and was promply shot down? I would cut my losses and drop the issue.
But not this guy. He Kept Asking Me About It. DUDE. I JUST told you that you'd better stop liking me. Do you need me to say it again?? (Apparently so) I dashed back to my cube and he was hot on my heels, asking why he shouldn't like me. I heard my phone ringing and made a mad dash to answer it. And He Stood There While I Talked. I kept waving him away, saying we'd talk later, but he didn't budge. DUDE. GET THE HINT.
The call finally ended, he got in his last two cents, and finally left. And I haven't seen him since.
My problems with this situation:
1) Does this mean we're not friends anymore?? I am officially being avoided. Okay, okay...I don't know what I'd say if he stopped by anyway. Maybe the avoiding thing is a good idea.
2) But who brings this crap up AT WORK? In The Office?? This place is a gossip mill (Yet I have no problem posting the nitty gritty on my blog. Hypocrite, table for one).
3) Why couldn't you bring this up after I've had a few beers? I don't like dealing with this akwardness sober.
Annnnd that's all. I'm sure things will be fine in the end...I just have to suck it up and deal with a few days of akwardness.
</End weak attempt at not blogging about running. Note to self: Only Blog About Running>
First of all, let me say - I Love Daylight Savings Time.
But I hate mornings.
But I love coming home from work and having a solid two hours of daylight.
My body is not quite adjusted yet, but I think I'm in the home stretch. I'll give it the ol' 1-2 punch tonight...by going to bed early. Before midnight. I'll be waking up before my alarm again in no time.
Another reason I'm feeling a bit off kilter? I met with the family for our annual Des Moines weekend. I consumed more sugar than you could shake a stick at. Dessert after every meal. A constant stream of snacks. And the Easter Bunny came early...leaving me an assortment treats (Including my favorite - Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. LOVE). Have you ever looked at the fat and sugar content of a Peanut Butter egg? It's so insanely high that upon consumption, my blood type was immediately converted to Type PB negative.
But the best part of the weekend? I got to hang with the cutest baby in the entire world.
Most days at work I am reminded of a Far Side comic...
Two guys are getting coffee in hell. One looks at the other and says, "Oh, man! They thought of everything...even the coffee is cold!"
The coffee at my office is rumored to be hot...but the water in the women's bathroom is not. Most days it is lukewarm, but today? Ice Cold. My company: They thought of everything.
Remember when I tore my ACL and all I could do was talk about my ACL? Inside, it drove me CRAZY. It was all I wanted to talk about but I was sick of hearing about it. I wanted to talk about something else but I COULDN'T. It was a catch-22 of sorts.
Well, the feeling is baaaaack. This time, the topic of choice is being a vegetarian. I am so completely enamored with the subject. Everything I read, sleep, breathe and eat (literally) is vegetarian. It affects every aspect of my life. I. Can't. Stop. Thinking. About. It.
So today's post? You guessed it. It's about Me! Being a vegetarian!
My latest discovery on why I love being meat-free: Every day I wake up before my alarm goes off.
Let's back this story up. I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person. I am the type of person that hits snooze for a solid half hour before groggily rolling out of bed.
So you can imagine my surprise when last week, I started waking up early. The first day that it happened, I opened my eyes and realized that my alarm wasn't going off. Naturally, I panicked and thought that I'd overslept. I rolled over and looked at the clock to assess the damage...and was shocked and amazed to learn that my alarm wasn't scheduled to buzz for another 10 minutes. Score!! So I spent a few minutes chillin' in bed and relaxing. A lovely way to start the morning.
So yes, I am feeling fantastic with my new dietary choices. I haven't had any trouble finding things to eat. I'm getting plenty of protein. I am excited to try new recipes. And waking up early? It's like I'm getting a karmic high-five every morning. LOVE.
I got three Valentines today - all were chocolate.
One was a tube of Hershey's kisses. The packaging was so cute - it said "Sporty girl". Because I was non-sporty for approximately 24 years, it makes me smile to think that someone thinks of me and thinks "sporty".
- - - - - -
A few days ago, I told my mom that I was going to give Vegetarianism a try. Her response? "I'm not surprised". Which made me feel good. Like I wasn't crazy for doing this. Like she supported me. I haven't told many "real life" people because I fear the "Why the Heck would you want to do that??" question and I don't want to come across as preachy when giving an explanation. I'm doing this for me, my body, my cosmic karma, my beliefs. It doesn't need to be something that I share with the world.
- - - - - -
I ran at the gym tonight. Six miles. On the treadmill. Kinda made me feel hardcore. I am reluctant to admit that it was Miley Cyrus's "See You Again" that really got me going. I'm not sure what it is about that song but it just makes me want to shake what my momma gave me.
- - - - - -
I had a PBJ for dinner and it was DELICOUS. Note to self: PBJs are DELICOUS.
- - - - - -
(edited to add: Spoke with the parents today and they were all "Don't believe everything you read"..."All meat isn't bad"..."Not all slaughterhouses are cruel"... UGH. Note to Parents: Please don't try and talk me out of this. I'm not trying to talk you into eating vegetarian...so please don't try and talk me into eating meat!!)
Lent officially started on Wednesday, so I am going to give up swearing again this year. Although I don't feel like quite the sailor I was last year, I think it will still be challenging.
The rules: I will wear a rubber band around my wrist and every time I swear I SNAP it.
Exceptions: 1) A swear word is defined as something I shouldn't say around a 4th grader. Crap? Okay. Hell? Toeing the line. The f-bomb? Unacceptable. 2) I am allowed to drop the f-bomb after 2am 3) I am allowed to say $hit, B!tch and a$$ after 9pm
I donated blood again yesterday. It was a great experience, but I ended up disappointed. My last donation took 4 minutes, 45 seconds. Yesterday's donation? A 5:03. What went wrong? I thought I was going to PR for sure. I drank a lot of water. I held a warm squeezy device. Did the mental game get to me??
Kidding aside, it really was a great donation. I usually start to get a little paranoid in the last 30 seconds of the donation - thinking that i feel dizzy or that my arm feels funny. But yesterday I felt great the entire time. Maybe I'm just getting used to it.
And as always, the cookies were delightful. The chips were crisp and delicious. I had an extra treat yesterday - hot chocolate. Which really hit the spot on a -5 degree day.
And the best part? I'm helping save lives. Yeah, I pretty much rock.
I was going to have a Turkey BLT wrap for lunch. I walked into the kitchenette at work, opened the baggie containing the turkey bacon, and attempted to put the bacon on the plate to be microwaved.
I use the word "attempted" because as soon as the bacon hit the plate, a viscous demon flew by and bounced the bacon off of the plate and onto the floor.
My life has been crazy lately. I have a ridiculous day at work, only to come home and have a ridiculous amount of things to do. It is driving me crazy.
One thing that was bothering me was that my apartment was a mess. Trashed. Complete Disaster Area. But I could never find the time to do a Big Fat Cleaning session. You know who came and saved the day, right? Mom. Mom and Dad came up to visit for my birthday (and to see the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat - LOVE). They arrived on Saturday and Mom and I busted our humps to get my apartment back to a sparkling condition. It's amazing how coming home to a clean apartment makes me feel just a little bit more in control.
Work is still pretty chaotic, but I'm surviving. I've started doing yoga over lunch on Monday and Wednesday. I will admit that it does add a little bit of stress to my day because class is an hour so I have to take an extra long lunch, but in the end it is worth it. I'm hoping that I stick with this - I forgot how great I feel after yoga. And my body? It is slowly starting to remember how to be bendy. My legs are especially tight, but I can already tell that they're loosening up a bit.
And I'm ready to start my Pre-Marathon-Training-Training and I want to run outside and I can't (aka won't) because DUDE. It has been obscenely cold lately (I got back from the bars on Friday night to discover that it was 12 DEGREES BELOW ZERO while we were standing around, hailing a cab. GAH) and I'm no Steve. I don't run outside when the windchill is -24. I'm ready for this crap Minnesota weather to move along.
And I am officially tired of hearing myself whine (hence the lack of posts lately)...so it's time for the happy-action-fun-time section of this post.
My life rocks because:
My parents are fantastic. They drive up for a relaxing visit...and I put them to work. And they still love me!!
I saw Avenue Q and Joseph this month. I heart musicals.
I got a pedicure and now my feet are beeeeautiful.
The hot neighbor called last week. I like talking to hot people (That's why I like talking to YOU. You're hot!).
I signed up for Grandma's marathon.
I went dancing with the girls this weekend. I love shaking my groove thang.
I booked a February trip to Boston to visit my "sisters" and the Annual March Colorado Ski Trip plans are in the works. Yay for vacations!!
I hit the shoe jackpot a few weeks ago - I got three pairs for under $30 total(including a pair of pointy purple patent pumps (say that three times fast!)). Scandalous!
...because he knew that he'd been beat, and laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's Allison's feet...
I just beat the medium level on Guitar Hero. I had to skip my workout at the gym to accomplish this feat...but I think in the end it's worth it.
And I did yoga over lunch so I don't feel like a total slacker. Okay, so I feel like a total slacker. Whatever. But who has ever heard of a Yoga Hero?!?
When I was home for the holidays, I stopped into one of the stores uptown and found an amazing deal on ski socks. We have a sock mill in my hometown and some of the "seconds" were being sold for dirt cheap. So I stocked up. I like to ski and I don't like to do laundry.
It wasn't until I got home that I realized why they were so cheap...
Yup. The socks are made especially for each foot, so they are marked with a "L" or "R" so you know which foot it belongs on.
Note to self: don't wear these socks when I go out dancing.
I have a new theory. It takes three things to make a wonderful (albeit cliche) birthday...
Balloons from a wonderful friend
...Flowers from a hot guy
...and of course there has to be cake (not pictured - but let me assure you, it was beautiful...and delicious).
I am pleased to announce that I managed to secure the trifecta this year. And the icing on the cake (no pun intended) to complete the rarely achieved quad-fecta? Two-for-one drinks at the appropriately named Liquor Lyle's.
So yes, my birthday was fantastic. I got flowers from a hot guy on Sunday night (Squee!). My coworkers brought in a cake to work (chocolate with chocolate frosting. Heaven.). And Karen brought balloons to the bar, which was really, really cute.
Even though I'm going to try and save money in 2008, I couldn't resist buying myself a little birthday present.
I have heard great things about Guitar Hero and apparently it is somewhat hard to find because of the holiday rush...so I was stoked when I stumbled upon it at Best Buy.
And Oh My Sweet Baby Jesus. This game is AWESOME. Instead of being productive on Saturday, I spent the majority of the day rocking out. I ended up beating the "Easy" level - the first time in my life that I have sat down to play a game and didn't stop until I had beaten it.
My goal for the week? Beat "Medium". It's good to set goals, right??
I donated blood and my donation time was 4 minutes, 45 seconds. A 4:45! I have to attribute it to my training. I drank a lot of water leading up to the donation, and I'm sure my taper helped as well. It was an entire year since my last donation.
My favorite part of the donation (which, not surprisingly, is similar to my favorite part of a race)? The food afterwards. Coooookies.......
I'm officially on the "regular blood donation" list - I've already scheduled my next appointment. I'm officially starting my "things to do before I die" goal of becoming a regular blood donor. Go me!
Oh boy oh boy ohboyohboy! I've been tagged by Leana to post five facts about myself...
The Rules:
Link to your tagger, and post these rules on your blog.
Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
Tag 5 people at the end of your post by their names and links to their blogs.
Let them know they are TAGGED by leaving a comment on their blog.
Random Facts:
I cannot have marshmallows in my apartment or I will eat the entire bag.
Before I had knee surgery, I only had one noticeable scar on by body - on my right knee. I was rollerblading in the living room when I was a kid (the carpeted living room. Yes, I'm a dumbass.) and not surprisingly, I fell. The bolt holding the wheel onto the skate sliced a big chunk of skin off my knee...resulting in a nasty laceration. One of my ACL incisions cut right through it so now I have a cross-shaped scar.
I love to buy books, even though I usually never read them more than once.
I don't usually drink pop (or soda, depending on where you live). Or really anything other than water. I used to joke that the only liquids that went into my body were water or alcohol...but then I realized it made me sound like some sort of crazy drunk - I was only trying to emphasize the fact that I don't drink anything but water most of the time.
I own over 100 pairs of shoes. It's a sickness...and the only cure? Buying more shoes.
And now it's time to pass the torch. So if you want to join in on the fun - consider yourself tagged!
I had a great time last night with the girls. The Rochester girls and I met up with my posse at a bar downtown for a night of dancing. It was a great girls night - the eight of us were tearing it up on the dance floor. The fun (or skanky...you decide) thing about this bar? There are two poles in the middle of the dance floor. Stripper poles. On platforms. Of course we made fun of the girls that were grinding on the pole early in the night...but wouldn't you know that each one of us took a spin before the night was over.
Some of our other friends (guys and gals) met up later in the night to expand our group to a solid headcount of 12. I think I took a break from dancing for about 37 seconds total - we danced for over three straight hours. What a night.
And I'm feeling the pain today. In addition to a spectacular hangover, my feet are killing me. Dancing in high heels...then walking all over downtown to catch a cab? Not awesome for the toes.
The Rochester girls left at around 11am so I accompanied them downstairs to bid them adieu. And wouldn't you know...we run into Hottie Neighbor. No big deal, right?
Back in '06 (rubbing chin wistfully), some girlfriends and I decided to have a Cinco de Mayo party. Except we were busy on May 5. So we decided to have a Doce de Mayo party on the 12th. Same party, different day. Mexican food was abundant. Margaritas were abundant. And tequila. The tequila was very, very abundant. It was poor planning on my part to co-host a party the day before I was to go wedding dress shopping with my future sister-in-law, because who was I kidding. I knew I'd have a killer hangover the next morning. And naturally, I awoke the next morning feeling less than stellar. And possibly still drunk.
I amazed myself by getting up at 8am (a short 2 hours after I fell asleep) and drove to Iowa to meet up with Mom so we could drive to the wedding boutique together (which was about 2 hours from my parents house).
But I was so tired. And so hungover. And so tired. I just wanted to sleep, but I felt so crappy that I couldn't. It was painful.
So Mom popped in a CD to help me relax. Something soothing and calming. And it totally worked. I was out like a light.
Are you wondering how the title "Good Catholic Girl" applies to this post?
The CD? THE ROSARY. Yes, my mom has a CD of the Rosary in her car. (And yes, I'm the one that burned it for her).
I bought some books for my nephew's baptism at the Christian bookstore last week. The instant I set foot in the store, my skin began to crawl.
I don't despise religion. I got to church regularly. I'm not a bad person.
But I believe that religion is a very private thing. My spiritual life is between God and me. I don't need to tell everyone about my relationship with God. I don't need to advertise my beliefs.
So I felt uneasy when I entered the Christian book store. Maybe it was because as soon as I walked in the door, they tackled me, doused me with holy water, and my skin began to boil and burn as they shouted "The Power Of Christ Compels You!" Kidding. But I did feel uneasy. Like I expected them to start preaching or to attempt to convince me to join a cult or to perform a ritual animal sacrifice.
But none of those things happened. I found some books for Noah, made my purchase, and made it out of the store without being accosted. Whew.
But it still made me feel better when I got home from Kansas City and found a little surprise from Roxie.
Yup, my cat peed on the bag from the Christian bookstore. The bag that I carelessly left in the middle of my living room in my rush to leave town.
Guess Roxie doesn't like public displays of religion either.
Welcome to the first official "fluff" post of NaBloPoMo 2007...
I've always been intrigued by personality tests...especially when they're spot on. I think this one sums me up quite well.
You Are An ESFP
The Performer
You are a natural performer and happiest when you're entertaining others. A great friend, you are generous, fun-loving and optimistic. You love to laugh - and you like almost all people equally. You accept life as it is, and you do your best to make each day fantastic.
In love, you are a smooth talker and incorrigible flirt. While you get into relationships easily, you don't tend to stick around when times get tough.
At work, you do well in groups. You keep everyone laughing through difficult tasks. You would make a good actor, designer, or counselor.
How you see yourself: Capable, fair, and efficient
When other people don't get you, they see you as: Incompetent, stubborn, and silly
Last night was a friend's birthday, so after belly dancing, I headed out to meet up with the peeps at the best-named bar in town - Liquor Lyles. I rolled in just in time for the happy hour to start - at 9pm. Who has a 9pm happy hour? Liquor Lyles. And it lasted until midnight. Two-for-one drinks! Discounted apps (love those tots!!)! Raffle drawings! It was a very fun night.
Until I remembered that I'm trying to lose seven pounds.
So today I am on a self-imposed carb hiatus to repent for my tater-tot and onion ring sins. And my body is not happy about it. Not one bit. Going out on a weeknight and then abstaining from carbs? That's a deadly combo. I am a bit grumpy today. And by grumpy, I mean you might want to stay out of my way today for fear of getting caught under my death glare.
Do you know what will bust this foul mood? Something that will immediately cheer me up? A drink (I'm not an alcoholic...I swear). With my friend and running buddy. Karen and I are going out after work. I can already feel the stress melting away as I drown my sorrows in wine and cheese.
Do you remember the scene in Without Limits where Pre is having a crazy night with some ho from Des Moines...and manages to mangle his foot in the process - right before the 1970 NCAA Championships? And then he still won his race?
That Exact Same Thing happened to me last night.
Well not exactly.
I was working out in my apartment (barefoot).
Wait. Let's back this story up a bit.
About two weeks ago, I broke a beer bottle in my kitchen. I promptly cleaned up the mess...sweeping and vacuuming the shards of glass. Since then, I've probably vacuumed once or twice. So you'd think that all traces of glass would be gone right. Right??? (Can you guess where this is going?)
Back to the story.
So I was working out in my apartment. And all of the sudden, I feel a sharp pain in my foot. I looked down. Blood was dripping off of my foot. So I sat down and looked at the bottom of my foot. There was a shard of glass. In my foot. It was big and long and green and bloody and EW THERE'S A PIECE OF GLASS IN MY FOOT GET IT OUT NOW. So I slowly and gently pulled out the glass. Holy shit. It was BIG. Blood oozed out of the newly pierced puncture wound at an alarmingly fast rate.
I sat there for a few seconds with my finger over my wound, keeping the bleeding under control. I looked for a tissue. Or a band aid. Or ANYTHING, but there was nothing. So I made a mad dash to the bathroom, dripping blood all over my carpet in the process. Thank God for the SpotBot. And also that I'm not a serial killer. Blood stains are tricky to get out!!
So I cleaned up the foot, smacked on a pair of band-aids, and that's the end of my story. Anti-climatic? Yes.
There was no crazy ho (self excluded). There was no NCAA Championship race. But there was a foot injury. And it hurts. I was going to suck it up and go for a run after work so I could Be Like Pre, but DUDE. It's dark out. I hate daylight savings time.
There was nothing on my calendar. Except for a massage on Saturday afternoon.
Octoberathon kind of messed up my after-work schedule. I normally run errands after work on my non-running days...but because daylight hours are precious and I hate (hate!) running on the treadmill, I quickly scampered home every day without question and headed out to run. Upon returning from my run, all motivation to leave my apartment to run errands eluded me. Once I'm settled at home, I don't want to leave. I love my place.
Anyway.
I had a list of about 30 things to do that had accumulated over the month of October. None of them were particularly important (examples: check out SJP's Bitten line at Steve and Barry's, find red hooker boots, wander aimlessly around Sephora) but the things on the list still "needed" to be done.
So after my massage, I wandered around Minneapolis and its surrounding cities for about six hours. Six glorious hours of random errand running.
And now there is nothing on my "places to go" list. And that feels good.
And now it's Sunday. I had big plans today. Plans that included playing Dance Dance Revolution on my Wii, reading my book, eating ice cream (homemade Cookies and Cream - delicious and worth every calorie*), napping, organizing my storage locker, and going to church. I can proudly say that I crossed every single thing off of my list. Because I'm a rock star like that. I set such lofty goals for myself.
*Brace yourself for tomorrow's post - I'm joining in on Moment of Truth Monday. Four days of non-running and copious amounts of ice cream? This could be ugly.
Miss Zoot is writing daily prompts on her NaBloPoMo page - and a few days ago, she asked the question "What is the best purchase you ever made?"
And I drew a total blank. I was trying to think of a total steal I'd found...but frugal shopping memories were eluding me.
And today I was shopping, and I found the deal of the century. These boots.
I know what you're thinking.
"You must be joking"
"I didn't know that you were a stripper in your spare time"
"MY EYES!!!"
"Lack of sleep must have sent her over the edge"
But I can assure you it is a legitimate purchase. FOR HALLOWEEN, of course.
These boots will the crux of next year's costume. So. What should I be? I'm thinking a superhero of some sort. They look like crime-fighting boots, yes?
Octoberathon is over!! I have a total of 117 miles under my belt from my 31 October runs. It went by really fast - and now that it's over...it wasn't bad at all. I would definitely do it again. It was so easy to head out and do a 2-miler on my usual non-running days. I hope I remember how easy they are in November...since I'm not officially training for anything right now (and we're losing an hour of daylight on Sunday), my biggest fear is that I'll come home from work every day and curl up on the couch without giving running a second thought. I think I'll try and run with the Running Room group on Wednesdays and Sundays - just so I have an excuse to get outside.
Anyway. Two final 2-milers wrapped up Octoberathon. I really wanted to end with a long run, but I have been so busy that I just didn't have time. I barely had time to squeeze in these last two - I went to the Lion King immediately after last night's run and I was actually a few minutes late to tonight's belly dancing class because of my run. Maybe I'll begin Novemberathon with a nice long run.
Kidding! There is no Novemberathon.
But I have decided to do a monthly challenge. And this month's challenge is...NaBloPoMo! I'm going to take it up a notch and not only post on this blog every day (and seeing how I'm not running every day, coming up with content might be a stretch), but I'm also going to start posting a daily photo on my Daily Photo Blog. Please note: the last daily photo was posted in July. So this could be a challenge. But not quite as challenging as running every day. :)
Tuesday - Day 30: Mile 1: 9:19 Mile 2: 9:04
Average pace: 9:12 Total time: 18:25
Three words to describe this run: Speedy, Humid, Meh.
Wednesday - Day 31: Mile 1: 9:20 Mile 2: 9:21
Average pace: 9:21 Total time: 18:43
Three words to describe this run: Rushed, Cold, Average.
Wow! After yesterday's run, I had two good runs, back to back!! Last night I ran a quick three before my belly dancing class...
What? I never mentioned that I started taking a belly dancing class? Well. I'm taking a belly dancing class. And it is FUN. We've only met twice, but I am already in love with it. I love dancing as it is, and belly dancing seems to be a good fit for me. I loving shaking my ass on the dance floor, and I love the movement and the energy in belly dancing.
Anyway.
I headed out for a quick 3-miler after work. All day it was overcast and rainy. At about 4:30pm, it started down pouring. My hopes and dreams of running were being washed away like the bug guts on my windshield (my wiper fluid squirter thing is on the blink. Stupid Jetta.). I generally don't fear precipitation, but downpours will keep me inside. Who likes running in wet, squishy socks? But by the time I got home, the downpour had dwindled to a sprinkle. So I got geared up and headed out. I wore a hat to protect my face and eyes from the rain. And wouldn't you know, as soon as my feet hit the pavement, the rain stopped. The running Gods were smiling. It was muggy and I was hot wearing my hat, but I felt good. Except for my lungs. Did I mention that I've been fighting off a cold for the past week? No? Well. I've been fighting off a cold for the past week. So I am amazed that I'm able to go as 'fast' as I've been going, considering that: a) Breathing is difficult (I feel like I'm running under water) b) I don't know how to hock loogies (and believe me - I tried) c) Breathing is difficult (Did I already mention this one? Where the hell is my lung capacity?)
But I made it through. I could hear myself wheezing through the entire run. The four or so other people I met on the running path probably thought I was about ready to keel over (There are so many fair weather runners out there, so it's nice to run in crap weather so I can feel hardcore). But I didn't keel over. My goal was to keep it under 10-minute miles - and I did. I felt good about the pace. Victory!
Mile 1: 9:50 Mile 2: 9:47 Mile 3: 9:30
Average pace: 9:42 Total time: 29:10
Three words to describe this run: Phlegmy, humid, respectable
The elevator doors opened to deposit me on my floor and I was overtaken by the smell. The delicious, musky smell of a man on the prowl. Freshly showered and freshly cologned.
One of the amenities in my apartment complex was free cable. The standard 60 or so channels. It was nice.
When I got the form to renew my lease on August 1st, my property management company announced that they would no longer be providing cable.
Bummer.
But, I reasoned, I don't watch much TV. It's not really worth having cable and paying $60 so I can watch The Pickup Artist, Myth Busters, and marathons of America's Next Top Model.
So I never contacted the cable company to transfer the cable to my bill.
And they never disconnected my cable. I was living the good life. Free cable, baby! All that good karma is finally coming back to me.
Fast forward to today. I got home from work and my cable had finally been disconnected. I had my 49 free days of cable, and now I'm unplugged.
I think I'll be okay.
(Note: Yes, this is posted at 2:22am. Yes, I realize it's past my bedtime. Yes, I'll do better tomorrow.)
My life has pretty much sucked the past few weeks. The combination of: 1) being very, very busy at work 2) poor diet 3) longer runs mid-week 4) Knee Bootcamp 5) dating drama 6) sleep deprivation ...Has led to One Exhausted Allison.
But the winds of change are bringing me great things.
1) Things are slowing down at work. For this week, at least. Christmas is our busy season so I'm sure things will start to suck again in a month or so...but until then? I'm going to enjoy the slow time where I can do my work without having someone screaming at me that they needed it yesterday.
2) Honey Crisp apples. Is this just a Minnesota/Midwest thing? But HoneyCrisp apples are hands down, the best tasting thing in the entire world. This is a bold statement, but I'll say it. I would rather have HoneyCrisp apples than chocolate. They're only available in the fall, so I've been stalking my grocer's produce section, and last night, the hunt was successful. I have been eating apples like they're going out of style. Because they are! I only have a few months to enjoy them, so I will not delay in eating my body weight in apples.
3) I took a week off from running. My hamstring has been bothering me (on my 'good' leg) and I was quite frustrated with it. So I rested and rested. The best part is that I didn't even feel guilty about it. It was so nice to actually listen to my body and not run just because I felt that I had to - which would have inevitably led to burn out. And I still have a month before my races, so I don't feel like my little break will affect my performance.
4) Knee bootcamp is going well. It just takes time and energy. There are only 4 sessions left. I think I'll miss it when it's over.
5) There will always be dating drama. I just need to remind myself: If I'm not happy and not getting what I want and need...then it's time to move on. So I've moved on.
6) I have rediscovered the joy of napping. Sweet, sweet napping.
And because there aren't enough numbered lists in this post...
Nutritionathon - 9/12 1) Fruit: 2 apples (HoneyCrisp! Love!!) 2) Veggies: Steamed veggies, red pepper 3) Snacks: Hot Tamales, chocolate sunflower seeds 4) Dinner: Sweet Potato Sloppy Joe 5) Bedtime: 1:02 - but I took a FAT nap earlier. Judges?
I can't put my finger on the exact thing that I love about it, but as soon as I start playing it, I get an excited tingly feeling in my stomach and it radiates toward my head and heart and soul and then to the rest of my body. It is nearly impossible for me to sit still because I just want to get up and dance to the catchy beat of his tunes. I Love This Album.
You may remember one of his songs from this post. And in the comments, Ali said his whole album was great. Why did it take me a month and a half to finally listen to it??
I've been having a really bad day at work. Nay, a really bad week. There was a big install slated for the weekend and people are running around like crazy folks waving their arms and screaming like they're on fire...while my team is trying to get things in order so the install doesn't crash and burn (although it was announced yesterday that it is being rescheduled...but things are still crazy). I've been working ridiculous hours and have had plans every night after work. I've spent a total of 20 seconds in my apartment all week, and I spent them baking cookies for a co-worker's last day at the office (sidenote: in the past two weeks, we've lost four people from my group because it obviously sucks to work on the team I'm on. There are currently FIVE open positions on my team, so eight of of are sharing the work. No, make that seven, because one guy was out due to back surgery. And don't even get me started about the people on the team that don't pull their weight).
ANYWAY.
E stopped down to chat for a minute and the first words out of her mouth:
I went to the LifeTime Fitness Triathlon a few weekends ago so I could see what all the tri craziness was all about.
Man Alive.
It was amazing.
First we watched the pros (yup, that means I was out the door at 6am. Please let the record state that I am not a morning person) and that was really cool. Everyone was so fast, so smooth, so polished. It is what every athlete aspires to be. The pros? They are machines.
And then we watched the "regular folk". And honestly, that was the one that got me good. People from all age groups (we saw an 89-year-old woman crossing the finish line. Incredible!). People with different abilities. People with disabilities. There were so many people out there, giving their all. Trying their hardest. They weren't out there for the cash prize; they were out there for themselves.
That's what sealed the deal for me. I want, nay, NEED to try a triathlon. If these people can do it? So can I.
I think my mom studies Divination. Seriously. The woman can see into the future. She prophesied that I would get pulled over for having a headlight out on my car...and I did.
Wait. Let's back it up and start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).
When you read you begin with A, B...Just kidding.
I took Friday off from work so I could spend the day with The Mama. We decided to meet up and do a little shopping and then catch Hairspray (which was awesome. Go See It.).
We were debating what we wanted for lunch and in order to determine the maximum amount of food I could cram into my body, I asked Mom if we were planning on getting popcorn at the movie. She stopped cold in her tracks and looked at me as if I had just asked her if I should stab out my eyeballs with an ice pick. Her look said "Are we getting popcorn? What are you? Mucho Loco?? Are we getting popcorn? Is the Pope Catholic? Hell yes we're getting popcorn!!" Yes, I am my mother's child.
So we went to the movie, enjoyed a super-size popcorn with a super-size half-diet-coke-half-cherry-coke (the best theatre pop combination evah) and had a great time. Seriously. Such a good flick. Must. Find. Soundtrack.
Anyway.
My car was still parked at the mall, so the plan was to drop me off and head our separate ways. But we got there and decided that we hadn't had quite enough shopping...so we headed in for round II.
At some point during the day, I mentioned to Mom how I had an irrational fear about shutting the door to my car when the keys were in it. I was pretty sure it was unfounded, but I was always afraid that my keys would get locked in. Why do I have this fear? I do not know. One time I tried to lock my spare key in the car while it was running (it was winter and I wanted to warm up the car) and for the life of me, I could not lock the damn car. It was weird. Yet I still had a fear that my car would mysteriously lock itself.
But I digress.
When we finally parted ways, Mom had the vision. Ok, so it wasn't exactly a vision. She happened to see that one of my headlights was out, so she warned me not to speed or I'd be a moving target for cops. We parted and I headed home, driving at exactly the speed limit. And I got pulled over. Gah! Luckily, I wasn't speeding (although the cop said that I was, but wouldn't tell me how fast I was going...so I am interpreting it to mean that I wasn't actually speeding. He wasn't the brightest bulb, as he also accused me of having Wisconsin plates...which I definitely do not.) so he just wrote me up for a warning to get the headlight fixed. Whew. That one was close.
Friday night was uneventful. It was the night of the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows release...but I didn't nerd it up like I did with the last release (For the Half-Blood Prince release I was 11th in line at midnight. It was glorious). But it was mainly because I hadn't read HP6 since it came out two years ago and I couldn't remember what happened. So I stayed in and reread it, content to read HP7 the next day when my mail arrived at noon.
Saturday morning rolled around and I still hadn't finished HP6. My mail arrived. Harry Potter in the Hiz-ouse!! And as much as it pained me to do so, I forced myself to finish HP6 before starting HP7. And I'm glad I did; there were a lot of little details that I had forgotten. I then dove into a non-stop Harry Potter reading frenzy. I only stopped to run (twice; I did a 3-miler and a 4-miler), sleep and go on a date. :) I finished the book at 3am on Sunday. Yeah, I had a Harry Hangover at work on Monday.
Moving on with my story.
On Monday night, I decided it was time to face reality and get on with my Muggle life. So I decided to head to the grocery store. Getting into my car, I remembered that I had a headlight out. It was as good of a time as any to check out the inner workings of my car's lighting system, so I threw caution to the wind. I popped the hood, tossed the keys on the driver seat, and closed the door. And my car promptly locked itself. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!? So I had to bang on the front door of my building and a friendly tenant let me in...and then I borrowed her cell phone to call the emergency phone number for the building maintenance. The girl was so sweet, she offered to let me chill in her apartment while I waited for the man with the master key to arrive. I politely declined, and camped out in front of my door. About 10 minutes later, she swung by and gave me a bottle of water. How thoughtful! But sitting in the hall outside of my apartment, I had nothing to do. Nothing to read. Nothing to write on. No polish to paint my toenails. No iPod to jam out to. So I did some of my at-home PT in the hallway and just sat and thought. It was kind of nice, really. Forced relaxation isn't such a bad thing.
And so this morning, I thought I'd suck it up and get the headlight replaced. I called into the VW dealership and they said it would take 10 minutes to replace the headlight and I didn't need an appointment. And it would be great if I could come in Right Then, as things were starting to slow down. So I came in, gave them my car...and waited. And then I waited some more. An HOUR passed, when they finally said that my car is ready. Seriously?? I could have melted glass, blown my own bulb, and installed it myself for how long it took. But whatever. At least I can avoid further consultations with police officers about the mechanical shortcomings of Miss Puff-And-Chug.
And that about wraps it up. Yes, this definitely falls under the "Ramblings" category!!
Every time I go to Sam's Club (I gotta buy bottled water in bulk...I am a slave to my consumer-driven life), I see the same guy at the checkout. I think his name is Huang. He's about 5 foot tall, and is maybe 60 years old.
We first met about two years ago. I was in his line and he looked up and me and told me that I was beautiful and that I looked like a movie star. Who doesn't love a guy that lets the compliments flow?? The next time I saw him, I naturally remembered him, and I was surprised that he remembered me too. "Hey, movie star!" he said when I wheeled my cart up to his line.
And every time I go into Sam's, he always smiles at me and waves me over to his lane. He is so sweet.
Definitely makes stocking up on water more enjoyable. :)
