Blah, blah, blah

It was a long week preceded by a long weekend.  Work was stressful ... for no real reason, just because it wasn't cake.  And because I was expected to be the one to know things, and I do know them, but because I'm the only one to know them, there was no there to confirm that I know what I know I know.  And all my fears and insecurities came to the surface (well, that might be a bit extreme ... let's just say I was tense).  Got it?

Yeah.  Me either.

All I know is that the tension made me nauseous and tired and working out, well, other than one good swim, it was crappy (when it was anything at all).

And then my mother picked a fight with me, because she was mad at my brother!  And of the three of us, my brother, my sister and I, I'm the sensitive one.  I'm the one that takes it all to heart and winds up crying hysterically at work  And while I have an office all lined up as soon as someone is ready to kick off the domino effect, right now I'm in a cube.  Which is not conducive to hysterics, so I had to hide in the conference room until I could breath.  And when I finally had it out of my mind, she called to apologize which got me upset all over again because WHY would you do that to ME when you know that you could it to the other two and they'd say "ok" and hang up the phone?

Anyway.

I needed to eat without puking and sleep for my road trip tomorrow (more on that later) but I wanted to run a little bit ... to make up for this week's crappiness.  But its pouring.  And once I start running outside I hate the t.mill.  So ... I needed new music.  Right?  Right.

I'm not a huge music affectionado (although, this blog is named after a cowboy mouth song), which is to say, that I'm not all adventurous and going to shows and out there finding the next great thing.  But if someone tells me about a band, I'll listen.  As long as it has words, that I can understand, that make sense, that tell a story*.  At my old job, a coworker would lend me cds (which is how i came to like the hold steady), I'd listen to them on the t.mill and decide if I liked them.

But, alas, I'm not at my old job.  So here I am, at the end of a crappy week, forced to go for a quick t.mill run and no one to ask for some new tunes (I suppose I could have asked the old co-worker but, except for this blog, I try not to advertise my Friday night lameness).  And then I remembered reading good things about the raconteurs.  I was hesitant, because I'm not sure if the guy that wrote the good things, determines if he likes a song based on its lyrics (does anyone do that?).  But I listened to some of the itunes clips and it seemed okay and it was Friday night and I was desperate for something, anything sort of good to happen ... so  I bought an album (yeah, I know.  a bit all or nothing. but how would i choose?) and I listened to it on the t.mill right up until my run began to suck (given the little I ate today, I can't complain) and then in the kitchen while I ate and ... that shit is awesome!  I'll need more time before I come up with a favorite line, but I can go to bed knowing that there was one good thing in a week of bile producing insecurity.  And that gives me hope that tomorrow's field trip might not be a complete failure.  And that I can use my knowledge of this band to counteract my previously professed obsession with James Blunt;)

*Seriously.  I have favorite lines, more than songs.  Like EVERY word of So Much Fun or, for the Hold Steady: "I've had kisses that made Judas look sincere."  Wouldn't you love to spit that at someone?  You make Judas seem sincere!  Followed by the slam of a door and the flip of some hair. 

Priceless

From the New York Times:

"James Carville helpfully told Eleanor Clift of Newsweek that if Hillary gave Obama one of her vehicles of testicular fortitude, 'they’d both have two.'"

A Random Thing Happened on the Way to Piermont

But first, before we get to that, a few things.  My single-ness is well documented on this website as are my efforts to not drown on July 13th (the date of the Big Race).  But with the summer and my summer house fast approaching, and my recent propensity to be hung over after two beers, I decided that I needed to focus and really fine tune my training ... so that come summer I can have more than 2 beers and stay out past 10 and STILL get up early to swim/bike/run.  So, Friday night (after a fun and productive trip to target), when I could have easily gone home, ordered in and gone to bed, I went out to dinner and then to the bar and STILL got up at 6 am to cycle the next day.  Go.Me.  And Saturday, after getting up at 6 am, biking 50 miles, running 1.5 miles and visiting grandma, I went out again until 12:30.  You can admit it, I know you're impressed.

Anyway, Saturday was chilly, but my friend Christine and I had vowed to ride to Piermont and the three boys that showed up for the group ride seemed to be on board, so we were off.  The boys usually take off on the these rides and we/I follow behind.  They wait for us at the obvious stopping points, we re-group and solider on.  We had regrouped for the last time before Piermont, our goal.  We had chosen the coffee shop at which we would meet when we got to our Goal (we were each in various stages of under-dressedness and none of us had full fingered gloves on, we needed to HOLD the coffee more than we needed to drink it at this point).  I admitted that I didn't know where to turn to get to our Goal, but Christine said she knew the way.

The first place we turned led us down a big hill to ... a dead end.  Where we saw 4 adults walking 8 dogs and I promptly FREAKED OUT on the inside but managed to hold it together on the outside and even TOUCHED one of the dogs (with the palm of my gloved hands, no skin touched the dog) in an effort to get accurate directions.  Because, not only did we now have to go UP the big hill, it was raining ... and the rain was coming down harder by the second.  We needed to get to the coffee shop and we needed to get there soon without anymore diversions.

We went up the hill and to the intersection where the dog walking people told us to turn but we weren't sure if it was right, we called the boys who should have been there by now, but they didn't answer.  We didn't want to waste more time so we asked a solo cyclist who was coming from where we thought Piermont was .... he shouted "its back that we, but I'm lost too."

Awesome.

We headed in the general direction from which he came, went the wrong way at one fork in the road, turned around and then, then saw signs for our Goal.  Just in time, because it was REALLY raining now.  And it was cold.  The guy we asked for directions passed us, reconfirming that we were going in the right direction (or were all hopelessly lost, I suppose) and as he passed I thought he looked familiar.  Like someone I went to college with maybe?  But I wasn't sure who, and it was a vague resemblance and its hard to know what someone REALLY looks like in cycling gear.  

But when we were almost there we passed him ... on the side of the road on the phone and it really did look like this guy, Brian.  Sort of.  Christine yelled out that she knew the way now, and potential guy from college, clipped in and followed us along.  Finally, finally in the warmth of the coffee shop, the direction/potential guy from college was behind us in line and I said, "Did you go to My College?"  And he said, "Yes.  K.Michele, right?"  I was floored that he knew my name.  Honestly, I would have been surprised that he knew my name in college - he was good friends with my roommate, but we shared very few words between us during those four years, so I really didn't think he'd recognize me now, ten years later.  We chatted.  He's training for IMLP (which is why I didn't recognize him right away, his body has totally changed), introduced me to his gf (who somehow got there first ... either she's speedy or he put in a bunch of miles and was meeting her for the end of his ride).

At any rate, what are the odds of getting lost in the rain on a bike 25 miles from home and asking some guy for directions and having it be someone you know (or knew 10 years ago)?

Random.

Finally, I know this isn't fast for the vast majority of people out there, but you know those 10 minute miles I lost after the marathon?  Lately, I've found them on occasion, but today, after my 50 miles of bike riding and 1.5 mile run off yesterday I ran 9 of them.  So, I think I can say that they are back.  Hopefully for good.  Or at least through July 13th.  

I'm scared.

Look at the little inset in the bottom left hand corner.

If I was more technically inclined, I'd know how to just show you the inset and to make it bigger, but, alas, I'm not technically inclined ... in fact I just learned how to link words like this, if I knew how to do this earlier I would have given the appropriate credit for my earlier idea about open water swimming.

Anyway, I digress. The point of this post, is that I'm scared. That looks like one big hill to me. The run doesn't look like a walk in the park either, but there is really no point being scared of the run until I convince myself I can finish the bike.

Sooooo, with that being said, I'm off to do my long run because that is what is on my schedule. And later, when I stop being scared, I'll tell you about the crazy thing that happened on my bike ride yesterday!

problem SOLVED

"No lines, no lanes. No walls, no mercy. The newest sport at the Olympics."

        -Steven Munatones

Historically, I was never much of a dater. I have friends who are serial daters (strangely a few girls but mostly guys ... which is interesting, I never thought of this particular phenomena as a guy thing, but I bet it is, which makes sense on SO MANY LEVELS). One relationship ends and they're on the prowl for the next one. It makes sense - its hard to go from being with someone all the time to not being with someone all the time. I think this was particularly pronounced in college when you could spend close to every waking minute together (and I bet some of you floozies that went to colleges that were pits of moral depravity could spend every non-waking minute together too*) and then broke up and found yourself unsure of who to sit with in the dining hall - so you had a few or 10 beers and found a new person to be your person ...

Seems like a vicious cycle to me. Which is why I pretty much avoided it at all costs. Leading my college friends to declare that I'd meet and marry my future husband all within the same year. I claimed to need 18 months, but otherwise agreed with their assessment - I was going to avoid the heart wrenching cycle and just make one good choice.

Well, we know what they say about the best laid plans (actually, I have no idea how that phrase ends ...). My Master Plan was to be single basically until I was engaged and the plan worked right up until it failed miserably. And while the contrast between not single and single wasn't as stark as it could have been or would have been in college there was a noticeable void. So I started running and within 18 months, finished a marathon. I reverted back to being a firm believer in the Master Plan, a Born Again Master Planner perhaps since there was the one indiscretion, but a believer nonetheless and vowed off men entirely because while I believed in the Master Plan, it was apparently hard to execute and until the execution could be perfected it seemed safer to just keep running.

Apparently time and a marathon will heal all wounds because I found myself not single and then single again and this time the contrast was about as stark as it could have been (well, except for the little but persistently right voice in the back of my mind that was sighing in relief and thinking THANK GOD).  To fill this void I did my first triathlon and have reaffirmed my belief in the Master Plan complete with promises to not even get out there until there was a way to know if the one was THE ONE before feelings could be crushed.

But now, I'm starting to waiver.  Maybe, maybe after the Big Race when I have more time I'll at least consider if there is a way to execute the Master Plan with a tolerable amount of risk.  Maybe.  But I need a back up plan in case the Master Plan fails.  Again.

For awhile I was at a loss.  Running and triathlon would be old hat at that point but, given my extreme lack of eye-hand coordination anything involving a ball is out.  And then I read the article in the WSJ about open water swimming (a 10K of open water swimming) being an olympic event ... and I thought, there's my answer.  If the Master Plan fails again, I'll become an open water swimmer because if a participant in the sport describes it as having "no mercy" you'd have to think I'd be good at it.  Ha!  Can you imagine?

If I do decide to pursue a career as an open water swimmer, I can practice every other weekend this summer ... I've enlisted in a shared beach house which is maybe something that I should have done 6 years ago and not now, but whatever, my house mates are all roughly my age, so its fine.  I'm just excited to be spend my weekends laying on the beach, listening to the waves (even if they are Jersey waves and not those of my favorite vacation destination, waves are waves at some point) and I'm thinking of getting this chair. But, given my lack of coordination and heightened startle reflex I feel like I might get stuck IN the chair.  Which I'm sure would do wonders for the Master Plan!

*At my college, in an effort to preserve our morality, there were visiting hours, because we all know that people only do It between midnight and 10 am Sunday - Thursday and 2 am and 10 am on Friday and Saturday, so the rules make perfect sense, right?

You say Triathlon, I say Pentathlon

Huh?

Today I did a race.  My first (outdoor) multisport race of the season.  Done on a bit of a whim.

During the day there were lows:

• when the alarm went off at 4 am
• when i got picked up at 4:45
• when the one dude we were driving was an annoying back seat driver
• when we got out of the car at the race site and realized that the "real feel" was 47 degrees
• when we realized transition was on the beach, which, um was SAND
• when 1/4 of the way through the swim the water was so shallow you had to stand up and run (NOTE: this is the 4th event of the pentathlon)
• when you had to run 100 yards with your bike through the sand to get in or out of transition (NOTE: this is the 5th event of the pentathlon)
• when it was so freaking cold on the bike that my legs just didn't want to work

And there were highs:

• when I got PICKED up at 4:45 (no driving ... woohoo)
• when the directions actually got us to the race site
• when I got in a groove after my mid-swim walking break and cruised back to shore
• when, after an atrocious bike ride, the run was fine, fun and WARM
• when I ran with socks on sandy feet and didn't get a blister
• when I was finally home, showered, fed and on the couch and realized I had done more in one day (a pentathlon. in the COLD.) than most people do in a week
• when I fell asleep with the window cracked open and a blanket on me looking at the NYC skyline 

So yeah, it was fun.  I'm worried about the bike, but I think the cold factored in (or at least thats what I'm telling myself) and it was fun to hang out with the tri-club kids!

Is it cold out?

Because hell has frozen over.  

I swam before work yesterday.

Seriously.

The new pool that I'm hoping to not be allergic to, has better hours for pre-work swimming.  Sadly its only 20 yards long.

I've got a surprise little activity on tap for tomorrow which I'm sure will make for a good post (or two).  And good luck to my good friend Dave who is running a half-marathon in the middle of no where, um, I mean Iowa.  I don't know why I said that?  Anyway, good luck dude, I'm sure you'll finish in 7 minutes or so (:30 second miles? no problemo! es bueno.).

Ha, I'm off for a long day of grandma visiting so I've got to amuse myself while I can.

Later.

Maybe I should have said yes.

I left work at 5:45 today.  Whenever this happens I wonder what people who regularly leave work at this hour do.  Especially if they don't work out compulsively.  Signs point to me never really knowing the answer to this first hand ...

Anyway, when I get out of work at 5:45 I walk home form the train, go for a run and then head to Trader Joe's where I fill one more bag than I can really carry.  Leaving me with a dilemma.  I could park the car in my building's driveway, get a cart to bring the stuff up in the elevator, unload the bags in my apartment, go back down the elevator to the car, drive the car half a block to the garage, park and back track to the building.  Or I could carry the stuff from the garage to my building.

Yeah, this is boring so far.  But stick with me.

It was past nine and I was hungry, so I went the fast route and parked the car in the garage.  As I was unloading the bags I realized that getting them to my apartment was going to be rough and I sort of hoped that someone would offer to help.  I got into the garage elevator and was consolidating from five bags to four when someone (ahem, a guy) got in and, in an answer to my prayers, offered to help.

And I said "No, I got it.  Just have to get organized."  

Why?

Because I am a stubborn brat and don't like to accept help from strangers.  And if I were to justify, I'll point out that this garage serves at least 3 buildings ... what if he didn't live in mine?  I wasn't going to ask him to go out of his way.

As we walked toward the buildings (me struggling with my 800 lbs of groceries and wondering if his offer to help still stood) we discussed the perennial park in the driveway and get a cart v. save time by carrying stuff form the garage dilemma and I noted that he wasn't ugly.  It had gotten a bit chilly and the random guy was walking fast and I was struggling to keep up and not stop to readjust the bags.  Turns out he does live in my building and ... on my floor.  In fact, he lives on one side of the elevators.  The other side of the elevators is the trash room.  And I live across from the trash room (its not bad, i swear, occasionally loud when people dumb their glass recyclables in the bin, but not smelly, for real).  So we're very, very close neighbors.

And as we were realizing that we lived on the same floor and discussing whether it was better to live next to the elevator or across from the trash room and commenting on how I should have accepted his help in the first place I was wondering if I should have said yes.  And I was wondering if we should exchange names in addition to apartment numbers (he's 12X, I'm 12I ... its sweet) and how I've lived here for 10 months and only in the last month have I (sort of) introduced myself to any neighbors (12X and the lady who has 12H as a pied a tier).  Of course even if I had let him help me with the groceries or we had exchanged names, anything more than random building friends with violate a Cardinal Rule of Dating (keep it out of the building).  But still ... should I have said yes?

In other news, it took some pita chips, cheese enchiladas from Trader Joe's and some fresh Mango ... but I'm finally full.  Finally.

New Question

I kind of get why the second day is the sorest, but why is the second day also the hungriest?

I worked out for 6+ hours this past weekend and today I'm thinking about eating the paper on my desk. So far I've had oatmeal, yogurt with fruit and granola, chicken and pasta with broccoli and I'm starving. And the vending machine doesn't even hold much allure - I really want some fruit salad, a turkey sandwich and maybe a donut (which I admittedly could get from the vending machine ... hmmm) and either a diet coke or an iced latte or a chocolate milk shake ... mmmm. So yeah, its one of those days - if I see it I want it and I'm thinking of skipping my run to go to Trader Joe's.

With 2 Minutes to Spare

I made my perfect week.  And my legs almost fell off.  Funny how a perfect week (at the end of a build no less) is less than ironmen do on race day.  How do their legs not fall off?

I've got to get some sleep, but I'd just like to say that being friends with single girls?  No my cup of tea so much.

Goodnight.

Almost Perfect, Definitely Random

All that stands between me and a perfect week of workouts is 70 minutes of running and 60 minutes of biking.  And a birthday party.

Today so far has been kind of perfect.  The weather.  The bike ride.  The funny conversations.  Its easier to go fast on the group rides because I know that someone is more likely to notice if I go flying off of the cliff on which we ride.   Of course when my nutrition (cliff blocks, gel) went flying out of my half open bento box on the way down a hill it was less than perfect.  Until I realized that my cell phone was still in my bento box  - that was perfect.  I finished my ride on the trainer at home to give myself a shot at making a run at perfect (I don't consider the fact that Thursday's run off was 18 minutes instead of 20 to put perfect in jeopardy - its my perfect and I can round up and I had already run around the block once - twice would have been weird at 10:45 pm).

I have re-concluded that I'm allergic to the pool.  I might have to find a new pool because I'd be an awful du-athlete.  I'm a bad biker and runner but an average swimmer.  But I have fun.  And I tell the boys on the group ride how to shave their legs.  Which was really a conversation I never thought I'd have.

There was a Team in Training marathon group doing a long run on the cliff on which we ride. And for the first time in a long time, I thought it might be fun to do another.

The end.

Picky ...?

The other day my grandmother told me that she was afraid that I would never get married because I'm too picky. By way of example, she claims that I would never marry a street cleaner or a post man.

Which got me thinking.

I think I'm comfortable admitting that I'd never marry a street cleaner. A Zamboni driver maybe, but a street cleaning machine? And even if you tell me that I'm a snob and that I'm assuming that all street cleaners are not overly educated and not particularly well compensated ... I don't know any street cleaners nor do I know where they hang out. I guess I could stalk them by repeatedly parking on the wrong side of the street and moving my car at the last minute with a flirtatious flip of my hair ... but, really? I have a hard enough time meeting guys the regular way (whatever that is) without concocting schemes to meet a street cleaner.

And then there is the post man. I can't say for certain that I wouldn't marry one. They probably get good benefits, they have to pass a test, they probably don't work late (although they do work Saturdays) and they've got to be in decent shape. They do go crazy on occasion and shoot people but ... what are the odds that my post man would go postal?? Again it comes down to lack of opportunity ... the lines at the post office are sooo long, I usually buy my stamps from the machine and when I see the post men walking down the street they seem preoccupied with you know, delivering the mail ...

At any rate, I explained to grandma that I'd maybe go for the postman so if she knew one she could give him my number ... but she refused. Siting my pickiness.

Which got my thinking about the guys I have dated. And then I decided that I really need to become more picky and make my standards MUCH MORE STRINGENT even if it means missing a wonderful romance with a street cleaner.

REJECTED!!

My weekend was a whirlwind of life acknowledgments ...

Saturday, Sara & Scott FINALLY turned 30 and had a lovely party in their lovelier apartment. I feel like 30 is sort of an acknowledgment of midlife - hopefully its not actually your mid-life, but it leaves you wavering between young and silly and old and mature. For example, on one hand, there were two pregnant women and one set of parent's of two at the party ... on the other hand, I'd venture to say there was a fair bit of silliness fueled by lack of significant next day obligations. Where did I fall? Probably right in the middle, which I suppose is where I belong - I had much to do the next day but not so much that I had to leave early or not have that extra beer.

Sunday, I was up bright and early and back to the city for a baby shower. An acknowledgment of the very beginning of life. I LOATHE baby showers, but I'll admit that this one was kind of nice. Small. Just friends. Good food and not too much annoying oohing and aahing. Although, the mother to be did receive a swaddling blanket that came with DVDed instructions. I just don't understand.

The mother to be had her baby the next morning at 3 am. Talk about cutting it close!

I went from the shower to Brooklyn (with a pit stop at the bike store ... there was an incident with a gel that required me to get new gloves. once that stuff dries its like crazy glue!) to visit my grandmother in the nursing home type place. A late life acknowledgment.

If I was more poetic or profound I'd think of some nifty conclusion that reflected on the stages of life. But, I'm not that profound. I wrapped up my weekend of activity with a martini at the local bar. I'm not sure what that is reflective of. But it tasted good!

I started the week of exhausted and organized after loosing my Sunday to baby showers and nursing home visits and when I got home last night there was a note in the mail telling me I was REJECTED from the triathlon I planned to do in June. Apparently it filled up fast (although my friend who mailed his application on the same day as me got in) so I shouldn't take it personally. But I do. Who wouldn't want me?? Ok, don't answer that. Apparently the Wyckoff triathlon, among others, wouldn't want me. I think there is a race in Connecticut that I can probably do instead ... of course Connecticut is more than 25 minutes away and I really do enjoy to sleep. Sigh.

Questions & Confessions

Questions:

1. Did the photographers at the race this weekend not take any pictures of me because they were mildly obsessed with Sara (I think there were 800 pictures of her!!)? Actually, there were two pictures of me in the lost and found, and I was wearing a jacket around my waste obscuring my race number for many of the miles. But there were really a ton of pictures of Sara. Most likely the photographers were liking her new running clothes!!

2. Why is the second day the sorest?

3. Does drinking water really help with the soreness? Because, all those trips to the bathroom were painful, so if the water wasn't helping I'm annoyed.

4. Does anyone else find it slightly ridiculous that I am going to spend $300 on baby gifts this month?

5. Does complaining about 4, above, make me a bad person?

6. Tomorrow, I have to do an easy 30 minute continuous swim. 10 minutes of which can be with a 'toy.' Fins or pull buoy? And if you say pull buoy, paddles?

Confession:

I am mildly obsessed with James Blunt right now. I think this is why I am single: if a guy were to listen to this stuff, he would be immediately emasculated.

Twenty-Two Seconds

I went to high school a good 45 minutes from my house.  I'm the oldest of three so, with two little sibs at home needing to be taken to the local schools, a ride was out of the question.  For the first 2 years and 2 months I took either a school bus or two trains and one bus to get me there.  The one way trip in the morning took close to 2 hours. So, from pretty much the day I turned 17, I drove.  And if the stop lights were blinking rather than doing their normal green, yellow, red thing, I knew it was early and that I was in for a long day.

I ran a half marathon today.  It was my sixth half ever and my third time running this race - its all women with an option for a full and even though I generally get along better with boys, I like the all girls races (and with the full option, if you run the half you won't come in last!).  The camaraderie is awesome.  

I had two goals for this race.  The first was to get there on time (not my forte as Sara will attest).  When I got to the first stop light it was blinking and I knew I was on pace to meet my first goal.  I also knew I was in for a long day.  In fact, it had already been a long day and it was barely 7 am.

I am not a puker.  In fact I haven't puked in well over 10 years.  And I don't get nauseous when I'm nervous (I got through grad school and a fairly big test at the end without ever feeling pukey) but I am now going to talk about puking and other bodily functions. You're warned.

I ate my oatmeal this morning, had a cup of coffee, got dressed and was relatively on time.  Decided to take one more potty break and as I was sitting there the strangest thing happened.  I got hot ... and then my mouth started to water and I had no idea going on.  But then, like some repressed memory, it came to me that this is what happens before you puke.  I quickly finished up what I was doing and got off the toilet to avoid puking into the bathtub.  And after a few minutes of sitting in front of the toilet it passed with me keeping my oatmeal.  But it was weird.  And freaked me out a bit.

And wasted some time.  I knew I could still make it though, so I decided to at least head into the city and see what happened.  I made it into the city and realized in my post almost puking frenzy I forgot my watch.  Great.

Parked.  And the race started.  Stomach still a bit off but I decided to give it a go.  At the one mile mark I asked the people around me how long we had been running so I knew how much time to deduct from the clock going forward.  One lady said 8 minutes and the other 12 so I split the difference with 10 ... that seemed about what I would be running anyway.  I geared up to take my first gel knowing that if it came up I'd call the race and head home.  It stayed down and I actually had a kind of awesome race.  I felt SO STRONG on the uphills, really pushing them and I think that is from the time on the bike.  On the downhills I would tell myself to just relax and let gravity take me ... and it did, I felt like I was flying.  Every mile was under 10 and, unless my math and memory got fuzzy mile 8-9 was around 9:15.  I ate 3 blocks at 40ish minutes and another gel at 1:10ish.  Gatorade at every stop they had it and water where they didn't.  The last 4-5 miles were COLD, I had my jacket on for the first few miles and then around my waste in case it rained but my hands were numb which was weirding me out (they just felt FUNNY) and it took a long time of being COLD before I convinced myself to untie the jacket and put it on, funny hands be damned.  That lasted less than a mile before I was hot.  I think gloves really would have been the answer because without the jacket I was cold.  

I should have had 3 more blocks at 1:40ish but that was in the middle of the last big uphill and when that passed there were only 2 miles left so I pushed on.  My ITBands were tight and I was worried that if I slowed at all to eat the blocks I wouldn't be able to pick it up again.  And, unless my initial estimate regarding the time it took me to cross the starting mat was off I was close to goal number 2 (goal number 1 in case you've forgotten, was to be on time to the race and was accomplished hours ago). 

Goal number 2 was to PR.  My second half marathon was in October of 2004 and I finished it in 2:08:18.  I trained a whole summer and then some for that half and ran it with a fast friend/running buddy (who I've since lost touch with) - I kept her in sight the whole race and finished strong.  I was doing that this race too - I traded places with a pink shirt through out the race and kept a green hat in sight the whole time - if the green hat or the pink shirt got too far ahead, I knew I had to pick it up.

Anyway, with 1 mile left I knew that as long as my first mile was 10mins or faster it would be close but possible to meet goal number 2.  Clockwise races in Central Park suck when they finish at Tavern on the Green.  The last mile is essentially a switch back and largely uphill.  You can see the finish and its deceptively close, and then you drop down into the switch back thingy and you can't see it and then you can see it again but you have to run up a hill and ... after 12.5 miles it kills you.  And for some reason this is where the horses from the horse and buggy carriages like to shit.  So in addition to being uphill torture it smells.

I ran as fast as my body would let me which sucked and hurt and I thought I was going to hurl right in front of the official photographers.  But I didn't.  I ran as fast as I could and I finished and was happy with my race because I felt strong the whole way and I knew all of my miles were sub ten.

And if I hadn't gotten pukey this morning, and I hadn't forgotten my watch I might have run TWENTY TWO SECOND FASTER and had a PR and met goal number 2.  

But, alas, I can't let twenty-two seconds ruin a good day.  Twenty two seconds is nothing really ... maybe in October at the actual 4 year anniversary of the PR.  I can't worry about it now because now? Now I'm remembering the 10-K I ran in June of 2004.  I was training for the half marathon and I ran with my same fast friend and I finished in 58:12 and I'm wondering if I ran a 10-K now .... hmmmm.

And I'm also wondering when I'll wake up if I go to sleep now and what I could eat without aggravating this weird nausea.  And for the record, it would be immaculate, so don't even ask.  

Dear Boobs,

I can't say I blame you for leaving.  Its not like you got that much attention when you were here (at least not in the recent past).  But, I do miss you guys (err, girls) so you're welcome to come back at any time.  If you do come back, I'd try harder to get you attention, but I can't make any promises (my standards remain high).  And if there was something I could do to not have ALL OF THE WEIGHT I'VE LOST since January come from y'all, I'd do it (within reason of course).

So think about it and let me know.  I'll be here.

Miss you - 

K.M.

Walking on Rusty Nails

I went for my annual physical today and because my previous PCP had become a specialist, I was with a new person.  She asked me the usual litany of questions, one of which was "when was your last tetanus shot."  To which I replied, "Sometime in High School."  

Had I known why she was asking I would have lied (I mean, I already lied about how many drinks I have a week ... although, lately the number gets lower and lower, but I digress).  She took some blood (I didn't faint!), gave me a TB test and then GAVE ME A TETANUS SHOT!  Those things hurt!!!  And there is running to do this weekend (more on the running after the weekend) and you need to use your arms to run ...

So, I'm trying to look on the bright side or see the silver lining if you will, because lately I've been getting way too upset about things that shouldn't bother me (old coworkers, old friends, current friends being dumb, current coworkers being dumb).  But all I can come up with is that if I step on some rusty nails this weekend it won't be a big deal.  And that's just not the ray of sunshine I was hoping for.  

So I think I'm going to have a martini at dinner and see if that helps!

Happy weekend kids.

State Lines

Sunday was my first outside ride in many months ... the state line was the turn around point for the 28 mile round trip (it was almost not a round trip, because the ride back was SO COLD I wanted to bury myself in the leaves until it got warm again). It makes me feel strangely cool to ride my bike from one state to another ... and on my next outdoor ride I'm going to go more than two feet across the line;)

In other news, my eyes are DRIVING ME CRAZY AGAIN. My mother was telling me to go back to the Dr. and I said "I just don't want to deal." And she said, "If it was your knee or something you could ignore it, but its your eyes - they're on your face!" And I thought, "If it was my knee, I would have been at the doctor a long time ago!"

I called today to make a hotel reservation for my ten year college reunion (how is that possible?). I wanted to make sure I had the right hotel, so I asked if my friend had booked a room there for the relevant night ... they probably shouldn't have given me this information, but they did and when I asked if I could book a room for that night as well the guy said "Sure. Would you like that on the same credit card as the other room." Yeah, I went to college in a booming high tech metropolis!

Finally, how is it possible ONLY Tuesday? At least I'm getting beer and wings with the tri club tonight ... mmmmmmmm, wings!

INTRUDER ALERT!! INTRUDER ALERT!!

Kids, there has been a major security breach here at So.Much.Fun. and I'm not sure how it happened.

Actually that is a lie.  I know EXACTLY how it happened.  But if I tell you I'll be memorializing the act and giving the intruder attention which, if I know this intruder at all, and I do (or did) know him a bit, I suspect that is exactly what he wants.  But its my blog, and I'll do what I want so ... let me start over.

TAKE 2.

Kids, there has been a major security breach here at So.Much.Fun.  The perimeter has been breached and Ryan has found the blog.  Ryan?  Yes, Ryan ... and Ryan = 2x.  2x=Ryan.  So yeah, you see the problem.

I obviously recognized this as a possibility when Dave started his blog and I left comments on it.  But, I thought I was safe for awhile because:

1.  2x doesn't really seem like the blog reading type.

2.  Even if he did read Dave's blog out of some sort of moral obligation I didn't think he'd read the comments. 

3.  Even if he did read the comments, i hoped (with not much optimism) that he wouldn't put K.Michele together with ME and click on it.  This was a stretch ... but I was going with it.

Because ... back when Dave first learned about my blog, I did a bit of self censorship and moved some posts to drafts.  In the end, I came back to it being MY BLOG and decided I didn't need or want to self-censor, particularly with the nick names - I thought I was protecting the innocent well enough so I re-posted all the posts.

When my good friend Dave linked directly to my post mocking his lack of swimming ability I knew that the perimeter was significantly less secure than it had been.  I again considered draft mode BUT, as I said, I knew 2x a bit (once) and figured that:

1.  As soon as he found this site, he'd want to either (a) mock me for it and/0r (b) let me know that he knew that I had a blog.

2.  He'd want to take care of (1) before reading all the back posts ... meaning that if I moved fast I'd have time to delete.

Well, kids I was right about (1) wrong about (2).  RYAN: WHEN DID YOU LEARN SUCH SELF CONTROL???  There was a 24 hour lag between 2x finding the blog and me knowing he found the blog ... so what was written was read.  Whatever.  Its not really that big of a deal.  I mean, I wear my emotions on my face, I'm sure what I wrote wasn't that much of a surprise.  And I did protect the innocent (Unlike someone who once referred to 2x on their blog by his first and LAST NAME which meant that if you googled  it got picked up.  Not that I EVER google exs.  But hypothetically if I had googled I would have found this blog and it would have referenced 2x and his 'new lady.'  And hypothetically, take it from me that if you read on a random blog that your recently exed ex has a 'new lady' it kind of makes you throw up in our mouth a little bit. Or I think it would.  Hypothetically.).   

Anyway, I digress.  The situation is what it is now.  The blog has been found and what is written is read.  And now there is just one more thing to do ... give Ryan a new nickname (per his request).  I don't anticipate him having many more cameos on this blog but I will nonetheless give him a new name.  The initial one's I've come up with were inappropriate for a public, pseudo family friendly blog (and, er, that his girlfriend might read ... talk about security breach! HA!).  So, I'm opening it up to my friendly blog readers ... suggestions are welcome.

But, because I fear there will be no suggestions (which will be disappointing, Dave), I'm going to go with RP for now.

So, for those of you paying attention at home, until further notice:

2x=Ryan=RP.

There.  Now that we've got this security situation under control, you are all free to go about your weekends.  And I, having finally gotten 12 hours of sleep, am going to work out for a million hours to make up for this week's slacking.  Happy Saturday;) 

The next thing I write will be happy, I swear.

I'm tired. Mentally and physically tired. And emotional too. A great combination. Sunday we got home from grandma's around 10:30 and I went to bed at midnight. Monday I couldn't get up to workout and worked out for 1:30 after I got home from work. At nine. And then I made dinner. Tuesday a hockey game got out at the same time as my class and I got home at 11. Last night, our local bar that is closing wouldn't let me in, I got home form dinner and NOT going to the bar at 10 and decided to get in my workout. I finished around 11:30.

So its not surprising that I'm tired, physically or mentally really.

This time of year I always think back four years to when this Friday was April fool's day and my sister pranked me by saying she was pregnant. Except she almost gave me a heart attack and I didn't talk to her for 3 days. That Saturday two of my friends met and hit it off. The first weekend of this month they got engaged. And I only found out today because a third friend (who got married in Costa Rica last year) emailed to announce that he and his wife are expecting a baby so there'd be a one year old at the wedding of the other two friends that got engaged earlier this month. To find out like that made me sad. I know that people fall in love and weed out the relationships that don't matter as much. But you know what? If I had known I wasn't going to matter I wouldn't have given her subway directions to every single interview she went on that fall. I wouldn't have snuck out of work to rehash the interviews with her. I wouldn't have been there. Except I know that is a lie. I'm always there and even if I knew then what I know now, it doesn't mean that I would have mis-directed her to the 1&9. It just makes me sad, that they decided that they just didn't want to be my friend anymore. I think I'm pretty cool. Not a bad person to be friends with ... So yeah, imagine how I react when I find out that ex-boyfriends are getting married. Or when 'real' relationship ends.

And I realize that its silly to be this upset over something that matters so little in the grand scheme of things. So I must be mentally tired. Which is why I am leaving shortly to go shopping. And my next post will be happy. Really. I swear.

What I would have written ...

This is the picture that I took on Saturday for the blog I intended to write last night.  I wanted to call it 'Traditions' and I would have told you about Great-Aunt Angie and how she used to make this pie for seemingly the whole world.  I can remember the first year that Aunt Angie decided that all the pies were just too much and gave my grandmother, her sister, half a pie which left us with barely a bite each.  I guess, when you see 80 come and go, pie for the extended family is a bit much.

I was going to tell you how the year after the year that we only had half a pie, I started a movement for the next generation to learn the recipe.  I was swamped at work, and despite working till early that Saturday morning, made my way to Brooklyn where it turned out, I was the only one of the next generation not to bale.  I didn't really consider being alone with Aunt Angie until, upon my arrival, she gave me the itinerary:  first, we'll have a muffin and some coffee, then we'll make the dough, then we'll eat lunch while the dough sits, then we'll make the pies and then, if you want, we can have dinner.  Um, ok?  So, I'm spending 12 hours with Great Aunt Angie??? I actually made it home for dinner, but the pie IS a day long affair.  I understood why she hesitated to make them for everyone and their brother (literally) because rolling the dough is HARD.

The Easter after my lesson, I made 6 pies all by myself.  It took 6 hours and there was flour EVERYWHERE.  Last year my friend Carrie helped me ... it still took 6 hours but the flour was more contained and it was more fun.  This year, as evidenced by the picture, there were more pies.  When I was waiting at the deli for the supplies to be sliced, the deli guy asked me "what I needed all this stuff for."  When I told him, he said "I didn't think people of your generation did this."  

In the blog I intended to write, I would have told you how I thought back to my day with Aunt Angie and realized that maybe people of my generation don't make pie.  But pie on Easter is a tradition and I want to keep it up ... this year, Carrie and Lisa came over and they each brought a rolling pin.  We ate sushi and drank wine and rolled three pies at a time.  It only took 2.5 hours.  I wanted to sum up with my modern take on the tradition - you don't have to be a stereotypical little old Italian lady to make pie, it doesn't have to take days and days of back breaking dough making, it can be three friends, three rolling pins, some wine, spicy tuna rolls and good conversation.  It can be fun.  And you CAN get pies on Easter ....

Unless, when the phone rings Easter morning its not Grandma asking when you are leaving and when she should put the water for the ravioli on.  Instead its Grandpa saying that Grandma fell and dislocated her shoulder, he called 911 and they're at the hospital.  When they're finally home you begin the hour drive and when you get there you realize that the situation is a disaster.  In one stir of the pot they went from getting by to not.  And in our world of easy fixes, this situation does not have one.  But you realize that even the hard fixes can't happen on Easter night so you put the water on for the ravioli because you have to eat.  And then you realize that you left the pie at home.

Pre Workout Meal (aka, I hope my coach doesn't read this)

Monday was St. Patrick's Day and my mom was marching in the parade with some of her college roommates.  After the parade they were meeting at a bar and we were all invited.  Originally I said no, I had to work and they were meeting at 3 and probably wouldn't be out too late.  Not to mention that I had a swim workout on tap for that evening.  But then it was a nice day, and work wasn't too busy and, well, its not like I'm planning on winning the triathlon ...

So, at 6:30 I was home having had two beers and half a corned beef sandwich.  I was at a loss.  What do people who get home at 6:30 do with themselves (I usually don't get home till 8 and if I workout after work its much later)??  Taking advantage of situation I rested (didn't nap per se, just rested) did some laundry and then figured I may as well head to the pool for the 9pm lap swim.  I have to admit that I was dreading it.  Obviously there was the beer, and the fact that it was scheduled to take an hour and fifteen minutes and I couldn't start till 9 (and my coach has this uncanny ability to know EXACTLY how long something is going to take) but the real issue was that the main set was 7 300s broken by 100 (so you swim 100 yards, rest 10 second, swim 100 yards, rest 10 second, swim 100 yards, rest one minute.  repeat.  seven times).  In my mind that is 21 100s (NOT the way to think of it, btw) and that is mind numbing torture.

But I went, and did it.  And it wasn't that bad.  In fact, it was rather good.  The 100s were all within 10 second of each other (not fast per se, but consistent) and looking forward to the minute rest made the set less tedious.  And the best part?  It only took an hour.  And my coach KNOWS how long it should take.  So the ONLY option here is that I was going super fast.

I think this means that its my obligation as a triathlete to consume two pints of Guinness and half a corned beef sandwich before every event and long training session.  So Sara, I hope you don't mind taking over the driving duties for the races we're doing together;)

Running by the Numbers

ALOT - The number of minutes I spent in the hot shower after my run and the amount of my sadness when I realized that my margarita flavored cliff blocks were just lemon/lime.

10 - The number of miles I ran (actually it was 9.5, but this is my blog, I can round).

9 - The number of minutes left in my run when I decided I might die and was really glad I had my id bracelet on.  This is also when I was outside my boss' apartment complex.  Could have been awkward.

8 - The number of minutes after I finished my run that the sun came out.

7 - The number of minutes left in my run when I decided that I could not wait 7 more minutes to stop and stretch my hip flexors.

6 - The number of cliff blocks I ate.

5 - The number of times I took my long sleeved shirt off/on.

4 - The number of people that beeped, whistled or otherwise talked to me (one guy was just asking for directions).  I know that I don't look stellar when running with a fuel belt, why highlight the fact by beeping/whistling?

3 - The number of times I ran by my apartment. Talk about will power.

2 - The number of times I crossed the light rail tracks and the number of times a light rail was coming.

1 -The number of bags of random abandoned oranges I saw on the ground.

Also, Hammer Gel?  SO MUCH BETTER than gu/powergel.  Try it.  You'll thank me;)

my side of the line (aka, the irish oak)

now i'll admit that i was empowered by the knowledge that you were forbidden to see me.

but then, i was drunk on the fact that you wanted to see me.  and couldn't.

left to our own devices, we would have enforced the edict by dividing the city into quadrants.  each taking a north, a south, an east and a west.

high on the thought of passing at the axis.

but to plan as such, would have defied the edict.

and we were visitors in the familiar midwest city.  at the mercy of our hosts.

so you sent your messenger with your coordinates.  and i abided.  i did not kill the messenger.  i established a perimeter. i vowed to stay away.

i did my part.  and went to the local corner bar.  stayed on my side of the line.

in this game, you are the straight laced rule follower and i am the emotional wild card.  if i was in place, we should have been in compliance.

so it never occurred to me, that if while drinking my drinks in the front window booth i had yelled out your name, you would have heard.

despite your deviation from the plan, we abided by the edict until our groups tired of the night at the exact same time.

to say that my heart did not skip a beat and that my world did not spin would be to lie.

we embraced and muttered speechless mutterings.  we planned our escape to cover up the violation.

when i exited you looked right through me.

i realized then that i was empowered by the knowledge that you were forbidden to see me.

the fact that you wanted to see me but couldn't, or wouldn't, was heart wrenchingly crushing.

but i come back to the irony of us sharing drinks, me in the front bar, you in the back.  despite the edict.

and then, if we were afforded one more conversation i would have used it to discuss the winds of fate that led us there.  i would have expected our theories to be thrilling, captivating, intellectual.

but now, if we were afforded one more conversation, i might decline for fear that without the enchantment it would be pedestrian.  a disappointment. 

There's gonna be a show at the pool tonight.

Don't be late.

In a rush this morning (as every morning, more on my morning issues later. if you're lucky), I couldn't find a 'new' bathing suit and grabbed the see through one. And I didn't shave my legs. And I have to swim tonight.

And you thought Friday night's at the engineering college's pool were lame. Well, that's about to change!

Bacon Doesn't Always Make it Better

I have a book of 30 minute recipes that I've been pretty good about making since the new year.  I haven't repeated a recipe yet and I've made some pretty good things (although, apparently, none that I would want to repeat).  Anyway, tonight's menu included breaded turkey cutlets (I used chicken) and brussels sprouts with bacon and dried cranberries.  I LOVE bacon and cranberries and can even see the two together so I thought I might like the brussels sprouts thrown in there.  Yeah, not so much.  I don't loathe them, but I would never choose them and the bacon cranberry mix was good but didn't really mask the sprouts.

Speaking of food, I'm sure there are some out there that wish they had this problem, but ALL OF MY CLOTHES ARE TOO BIG.  Its becoming a serous.  I'm down to my marathon shape and my work clothes from my marathon days are long gone - I thought I had permanently gone up a size so I phased them out for clothes a size bigger.  So now I have newish clothes that are HUGE.  Like I almost don't need to unbutton my pants to take them off big.  It looks silly but I don't really want to re-replace all my work clothes.  Thoughts?  Its not like I'm not eating (I actually have only lost a few pounds, more a problem of inches).  Ice cream maybe?? What bout beer?  And do we think this is permanent?  Should I by new clothes or ride it out?  Can I keep up this intensity of activity for ever?

Reason No. 846 Why I am an idiot ...

I've been having some issues with my left eye and since I kind of like my left eye I finally called the doctor.  This is how it went:

Receptionist:  May I help you?

Me:  Yes.  I have one eye that is really red and itchy.  Err.  What I mean to say is that one of my two eyes, is really red and itchy.

Brilliant.  But you kind have to wonder if they would have seen me earlier if I hadn't rephrased my issue.

And Sara, it was a reference to your governor.  Not to me, silly!

At least I got a mug (and other random thoughts) ...

The Indoor Tri Championships were Sunday and every participant got a travel mug.  I was seriously very excited about this ... I love traveling with beverages and sometimes you want those beverages to be both hot and not in a plastic cup.  And those mugs are expensive and tend to break, so I take them free when I can.  Not to mention the intimidation factor when I role into the Half IM carrying that mug (it says Indoor Tri Championship on it).  Beyond the mug, the event was fun, I biked a bit faster but ran and swam EXACTLY THE SAME as I did in November.  Considering I was sick, I guess this is okay.  I also didn't come in last, which is always an added bonus:)

I also want to add that its a bit weird, especially if you're in college, to show up to an indoor tri with a personal cheer leader who stands behind you and yells "GO, YOU CAN DO IT!" for 20 minutes while you run on a TREADMILL.  Shouldn't they have been recovering from a wild night out??

In other news, and apropos of nothing, I think we all have people that touch us, that we'll never forget, that we hope to always count as friends (although, it won't always work out that way), that we will always (although, we wish we didn't) compare our boyfriends and mentors to.  They are the truly good ones, the ones we'd do anything for without blinking an eye, the ones we can talk to (verbally or in email) for hours on end ... even if we haven't spoken in weeks or months, the ones we know will go places and do things.  For me, alot of these people are out of sight and sometimes out of mind.  But today, after too long, I was emailing with my good friend Matt (who used to read this blog but doesn't anymore ... something about a wife and daughter keeping him busy, not sure I buy it ... ha, ha) and we were discussing how through our DECADE LONG (dear Lord, how have I had decade long friendships with people I met in college???) friendship we've never had a conversation on the phone.  And yes, thats weird, but I'm grateful for this technological age we live in.  Through email and blogs we (if we're lucky) get to keep up with the people that matter, the good ones, in busy times when we might not otherwise make the effort.  

So while I marveled at the technological age in which we live, I also marveled at the amazing and just plain old solid people that I've been fortunate enough to meet and count among my friends.  Single in the city as I am, I don't have as much in common with a lot of these friends like I once did, maybe someday I'll have a gaggle of kids and a husband and we'll all go on family vacations, but if it doesn't work out like that I think that we'll still remain friends, connected by shared values and experiences.  Many of these experiences have been thrilling and eye opening while others have left me reeling, wondering if I was on track, wondering if I was doing anything that mattered, gasping for air, sobbing, heart broken, lonely but I've learned from them all (maybe more from the sobbing lonely ones than from the thrills) and I don't regret and wouldn't give up a single second of the time I've spent with these friends.  They are special and I consider myself blessed.

Finally, apropos of even less, what goes through your head when you get the call telling you that a wire tap has picked up on your plans to fraternize with a woman for hire?  And who knew that you were allowed to keep accounts with these women so that you could get services with your credit??

Sleep tight, kiddies. 

8 Blocks Round Trip

Today I succumbed to the illness and called the doctor who called the pharmacy with a rx for one of those flu drugs.  Advil wasn't doing it and I WANT to go back to work (new job, what can I say). I called the pharmacy to arrange for delivery and was told that, yeah, no, they don't do that.

Initially I panicked.  Its 4 blocks there and (obviously) 4 back.  There is no parking near the pharmacy and, even if there was, my car is located 2 blocks away, making it not really worth it.  Everyone I knew was at work and wouldn't be home for several hours meaning I had to get there on my own.  By foot.  So I came up with a plan.  And seriously, I think I might have devoted more time to this than my average triathlon.

First:  Pre-pharmacy meal.  I had some left over rice and sweet and sour chicken from the thai place with a lot of water (yeah, I know that its a Friday during lent but I'm SICK).

Second:  Pharmacy-day outfit.  I opted for minimum makeup - just a bit of under eye goop to not alarm random people on the street.  T-shirt and sweatshirt that I've been wearing for the past 2 days (why mess with a good thing?), flex lined wind pants, sneakers, baseball hat (my hair it OUT OF CONTROL), big scarf, hooded jacket, gloves.

Third:  Pharmacy nutrition.  I put water in my bag.  Stuffed my pockets with tissues and ... sport beans in case of any lightheaded-ness along the way.  If you think I"m kidding, I'm not.  Not even a little bit.

And with that plan I made it.  4 blocks there and 4 block back.  And I achieved my goal ... to avoid a DNF.  And post-pharmacy?  I needed a 3 hour nap. Seriously.  This sucks.

8 blocks?  Last Thursday I ran for 1:15 after a long day of work and didn't even give it a second thought.  And today?  Today 8 blocks nearly did me in.  Do people recover from the flu?

Things I don't want to be when I grow up

1.  A water polo player.

2.  A mermaid.

Okay.  But why come to this realization now, you ask?  

Well, first, last Saturday my swimming workout called for 3,350 yards*, 600 of which were "head up swimming, aka water-polo swimming."  Doesn't sound too bad.  I mean many people out there swim with their heads up regularly and water polo players do it while trying to throw and catch and avoid getting the crap beat out of them.  Well, you want to know something?  These people?  They're on crack.  That stuff is SO hard.  Seriously.  I was huffing and puffing and not going very fast and had to talk myself into just ONE MORE FIFTY every single time.  But I did it and realized that yeah, water polo?  Not in my future.  And, I also realized that there is a little muscle or ligament or something in the back of your head where your head meets your neck, and water polo swimming makes it hurt1

Then, the next Monday (that would be two days after the epic Saturday swim, for those of you keeping track at home), my workout called for 300 yards of cross legged swimming.  This might not sound that hard (it didn't sound that hard to me ... could it really be that different than pulling) WELL let me tell you.  That shit is hard.  My legs were at a 90 degree angle to my body and I really thought I was just going to sink.  Straight down to the bottom of the pool.  It made me feel for those people (ahem, dave) that are prone to sinking.  It makes swimming a lot harder.  And with that I realized, that I'd be a really bad, BAD, mermaid.

*Potentially the furthest I've ever swim, and definitely the furthest I've gone since sometime in HS.  ROCKstar;)

I've got a fever ... and advil is like crack

Yeah, sadly not some sort of weird triathlon I can't stop working out fever but a full on flu, stuffy nose, chills, night sweats feeling like you might self combust fever.  And all I've got to say about that is advil/tylenol really is God's gift when it comes to situations like this.  I'll be approaching the four hour mark and feel myself heating up and getting sweaty, I'll pop a few pills and then wait a few minutes and start to cool off.  If I could stay awake long enough I'd probably be amazed at the science behind all this ... but, alas, I keep falling asleep.

Yeah, so this sucks.  I haven't been this sick since sometime in college and I guess I knew it was coming because EVERYONE around me at work is sick, but still I thought I could mind over matter it.  But apparently not.  And I'm going to be REALLY PISSED when I start to workout again and notice the de-provement (is that a word?).  Because I was doing SO WELL.

Arg, maybe at least I'll get a chance to catch up on some of those blog posts that are rattling around in my head.

Stay healthy kids.

Support

I swim at an engineering college.  I'm not sure that this is related to the fact that there are hardly every any boys I'd want to talk to at the pool.  But it might be. 

Tonight was different.

I shared my lane with a cutie.  Additional swimming pool perks were that he was wearing a bike shortish type bathing suit (no banana hammock) and had normal amounts of body hair (unlike the gorilla in the lane next to us).  He was super considerate ... he would go under the lane line to the next lane to get out of my way if he was resting when I was coming in for a flip ... and, since he appeared to be doing 50s on a 4 minute interval he was hanging out often when I came into flip.  I wondered why he was resting so much because he had decent (swimming) technique.  

After awhile, the gorilla got out and cutie moved over to that lane.  I took this opportunity to sneak some glances at cutie and I think I know why he was going so slow ... either he was excited to see me or those bike shortish type bathing suits have no support.  Because it was sticking straight out.  Not aerodynamic at all.  After seeing that, there was no way I could have talked to him (not that I could have said much in my ten, tiny, short second of rest).  I was afraid to stare or worse yet brush against his drag.

After 2500 yards and 3 beers ...

This is sort of how I feel.

I love this sport because of the people it connects. 

Goodnight.

Eastern Force Rep Promises

What?  Yeah, I don't know either.

At my new work, we're having an oscar pool.  This is fine and all but I haven't been to the movies since I was dating 1x.  Its sort of like a thing now, me and the movies.  As if I need more things.  I don't have the time, desire, person to come with me to see most of the nominated movies but ... some of them are on demand.  So I decided that I could watch some of them while I ride my bike. 

Brilliant, you say!  (right?)

Maybe.

I chose my first movie based on the fact that it, Eastern Promises, was only 100 minutes long.  I could watch the first 60 minutes, go to the gym for my run off, and come back and stretch and have a snack for the last 40 minutes.

Perfect.

Except the movie was largely subtitled and the rest was all spoken with a heavy eastern european accent.  And my schedule called for force reps ... and I had to watch the time and cadence and heart rate and I couldn't really focus on the subtitles or the eastern european accents.  And when I got back from my run and thought I might at least get the gist of what happened ... well, it was so gory I couldn't really get beyond the gore.  Some guy was in a parade (or a riot) and stopped to pee on a grave and some big dudes come over and slashed his throat ... basically beheaded him.  And then some other dude was getting the crap beat out of him in a sauna (?) and he was all naked with his parts flopping around while he tried to avoid the knife wielding guys that were trying to kill him (same guys from the cemetery??).

So, yeah.  I might just accept my cultural ignorance and stick to bad tv.

Oh, and force reps?  Don't believe them when they say they tax the legs not the heart rate.  Lies.  All lies!

Life is Good

Happiness is:

• Committing to a share house for the summer.  The beach!  New peeps!
• Feeling yourself get stronger.
• Seeing yourself get stronger.
• Liking your new job.
• Cooking dinner more often than not.
• Realizing the error in your taxes and that you're getting a lot more money back.
• Completing almost all of your workouts in a week.
• Not having to spend your Saturday in a stupid continuing education class.
• Getting a manicure and pedicure.
• Planning your run so that while you stop to get your heart rate in check, you can accomplish an errand.
• Sushi dinner with your sister.
• New tv shows!
• A good massage.
• Taking advantage of a warm spell to run outside.

Happiness is not:

• Completing all of your workouts in a week and worrying that you will be hungry for the rest of your life.  Unable to be full, ever.
• A good massage (ow!).
• Coming out of a good massage to realize the temperature has dropped 20 degrees and you are NOT dressed appropriately.

Sleeping and Eating

I was either sick or hungover (the jury is still out on that one) during my class on Saturday making it particularly awful.  By the time I got back to town it was close to 5 and I was STARVing.  So I picked up some sushi (yes, despite the mercury warnings) and basically inhaled it.  Made my way to the couch and by 6 could not keep my eyes open.  I decided I would take a one hour nap and then workout.  Well, I woke up again at 9:45 and decided to just go to bed and slept straight through until 9 the next day.  When I woke up I was starving again so I made some eggs and potatoes and by the time my sister called, just before 11 to see if I wanted brunch I was STARVING AGAIN so I ate again.  What's with all the sleeping and eating??  

I feel better now.  Despite having spent the day at IKEA.  Argg.

Hope there were good weekends out there!

Goodnight.

To Share or Not to Share?

That is the question.

In other news, I learned tonight that next week is my first BIG week of training?  Dear Lord.  What was this week?  Or last week?  Reading that motivated me to go to the pool in the freezing cold tonight with a slight sore throat ... I'll tell you that. And if I'm motivated to go tomorrow, then I will have gone a whole week without missing one workout.  Sadly, given the fact that my towel and bathing suit are not yet in the wash, its not likely.

Anyway, what do you think?  Share?  Not?

Cryptic much?

Goodnight.

P.S.  If I commit myself there is a long list of people wanting to live in my condo.  So no David, if I finally snap, you can not make my condo into your own personal east coast love shack:)

You and I were (NOT) meant to be together ...

aka, thoughts on morning swim practice

I've accepted that my life and my workouts flow better if I get them done before work.  And given the limits on pool time and the fact that the pool is not in my building I KNOW that it would be a good idea to swim from 6-7 am.  So this morning I got up at 5:30.  I was fully awake, out of bed, went to the bathroom and then COULD NOT HANDLE the thought of putting on a bathing suit and getting into the car, in the dark and swimming for an hour.  So I went back to bed (which was dumb, I should have done something) but whatever, I need sleep too.  And of course, someone in China needed to talk at 9 pm tonight so evening masters and pretty much lap swim was out of the question.  So I have not swam (although I did finally run) and I know that I should have and could have gone before work but ... I just don't think that I want to not drown that badly.  

So yeah, pre dawn swim practice and me?  Not meant to be together!

Also, work is better;)

Help?!?!?!

I think I might be going crazy.

For real.

I mean, I am crazy, obviously, but I think its getting worse. So let me revise:

I think I might be going more crazy.

At my old job, I was a veteran. I kind of knew what I was doing and people were always stopping by to chat. At my new job I AM SUCH A NEWBIE. And I have no friends (yet ...???) ;( I have people that are nice to me, but no one to just chat with.

Its lonely just plodding along working without a clue. Apparently its also tiring because tonight instead of rushing to swimming I came home and sort of napped sort of just laid in bed for TWO HOURS (come on, this is NOT normal) and then got up and went swimming at 10pm (this is why I should NEVER COME HOME - I should go straight there even if it means a cold walk rather than a warm drive home). What.the.fuck?? And then came home and tried to do some work because I do.not like being the NEWBIE and not really being sure I have a clue. I probably could have stayed there all night and still felt that way though ...

So thoughts? Suggestions? Should I commit myself? Does insurance cover me if I commit myself somewhere sunny???

A Prayer for Friday Night at the Gym

At some point, campus ministry at my college collected prayers from students and compiled them in a book that was distributed to everyone on campus. A girl I knew submitted "A Prayer for Friday Night at the Library." I wish I still had the prayer book, but from what I recall the prayer was pretty much what you would expect from the title: asking for strength to go to the library on a Friday night when most people were out or otherwise relaxing. Obviously, no one really wants to go to the library on a Friday night, but sometimes you've got to ... even if you find it slightly depressing, so you go and hope that it pays off when it comes to your gpa.

Except for late work nights, I don't think I have any Friday nights at the library in my future. But I may have some Friday nights at the gym in my future, and to me, there is little more depressing than a Friday night at the gym. It doesn't depress me if others go (I mean really, why would it?) but to me, Friday's are for going out or eating sushi and watching tv. But this week, I backed myself into a corner and the only way out was through the gym. Tonight.

In addition to a new job in the new year, I've hired a coach. I realized that I was wasting my time, piddling around half heartedly with training plans and shelling out money for races that I was not really prepared for ... so I hired someone to do the dirty work. I have a goal race and everything, but for the most part that is a surprise.

Anyway, TEST week coincided with my first week of work. Which was admitedly less than ideal, but because I'm weird and don't like to muddy the waters, I didn't object. But I should have. Its a new job, with new hours and while there admittedly isn't that much work yet, just being there and being on, with people I don't know is exhausting ... add TEST week on top of that and it was almost more than I could handle. It started off ok, I took my swim TEST late Monday night (yup, the first day of my new job) but didn't get home till after 10 which made me late to bed which made an early work out too hard ... so there was a 1 hour run Tuesday night and another late to bed night followed by a bike TEST Wednesday (seriously, time has never moved so slow as during that bike TEST). Thursday should have been another swim but I just could.not.do.it. I was spent. So I made Thursday my rest day and re-ordered the workouts (factoring in an all day CLE class tomorrow - one of five Saturdays of my life that I will never get back - , a house warming party tomorrow night and an awesome concert Sunday night) and that meant I had to do my run test tonight. At the gym. On a Friday.

I got home and fell asleep. I woke up just before 9 and wanted to order sushi, drink a beer and go back to bed. But I couldn't. I had a TEST to take. So I went to the gym. On a Friday. And it was rough. But it was what I had to do. So I did with a little prayer that I wouldn't pass out on the treadmill (I hadn't eaten in hours) and that I'd have the mental fortitude to get through the TEST. And I did. Its done. And hopefully come summer, it'll pay off.

2 Questions; 3 Things

First, two questions (for the guys at the gym):

1. Why do you drink out of the little solo cups? Have you not heard of a water bottle? You seriously refill that little cup after every set ... or is that the point? Is the walk to the water cooler part of your workout?

2. Why do you bring your phone, pda and louis vuitton man-purse with you? You dind't consult any of those devices throughout the workout was it necessary to haul them all the gym (I won't even delver into the murse)?

Three things:

1. New job starts tomorrow.

2. After two weeks of "I just quit my job" eating and drinking, I started working out again. Amazing how working out just for a few days can make you feel like a whole different person.

3. My new year's resolution is to cook more. So far I haven't set anything on fire or made myself ill ...

So yeah, cooking, working out, working ... busy.

Happy '08 kids.

Good Swim

With most things, there are good days and bad. And yesterday, for swimming, it was a good day. Almost.

Good Day
I generally don't even try to keep up with the former NCAA crowd at masters. I cut yards short on a regular basis and its not because I'm slacking, its because keeping up'd be impossible. But last night was a sprint night and I almost kept up. Warm up was 100 each SKIMPS (swim, kick, IM, swim, pull) and I did the whole 500 (except for the fly, which I did free - I haven't butterflied in at least 14 years, I don't really think I need to start now ...). The next set was 10 x 50 starting in the middle of the pool (ie, two flip turns per 50). I was a bit late starting this set because I was late getting into the pool and therefore late finishing the warm up, but I probably did 5-6 of the 50s on the minute, with flip turns (which, my friends, is a current goal for the championships ... he, he)! Then, on to the main set:

8 x 75 on the 1:20 - I did 6 of them, plus 25 yards for each for the two I skipped (I needed to get to the right side of the pool). So 1:20 per 75 is a bit aggresive for me but keeping up with 6 of 8 is respectable I think. Next ...

8 x 50 on the 1:00. Descending 1-4,5-8. Done. Cake. Mostly flip turns. Although, descending might be a figment of my imagination. I pretty consistenly come in right between :45 and :50. Followed by ...

8 x 25 on the :45, easy, spin, easy, all out. Done. Icing. Although, 'spin' is some sort of hyper backstroke that seems like a recipe for aggravating my bulging disks so I did those free somewhere between easy and all out.

Cool down was 200 kick which I replaced with 50 easy because, seriously, I ran 9 miles on Saturday and I hadn't eaten dinner ...

So yeah, a Good Day. If I had gotten there on time, I would have only been 100 yards short in the main set and I could have done the cool down.

Almost
After, in the locker room, we were discussing the outrageous cost of workout suits and how its particularly hard to participate in the on line grab backs if, like me, you don't know what size you wear because the tag has fallen out of your current suit. We were discussing the sizes we were in high school and how those sizes are no longer applicable. The girl that rubs me the wrong way commented that the first suite she bought in her return to swimming was a size 28 because that is what she wore in high school and now she couldn't fit into it. I commented that a 28 was my race suit size in high school so certainly not something I'd be able to fit into at this juncture. And her response ...? "My race suit was a 26 ..." Ok, honey, I'm 8 years older than you, and my two thighs together aren't the size of one of yours ... why must you counter my "yeah, there is no way I could fit into that suit either" with "I wore a smaller size than you in high school"? Because really, we've all been to the swim meet where the girl that wore a size 34 in practice thought that size 26 would help her win the race. And seriously, it was.not.pretty.

But yeah,
I complain about her, but I find her more amusing than truly annoying, which is good. In fact, I've been in a strangely good mood lately, so its hard to get me down. I even nailed my treadmill speed workout tonight (another goal, my friends), although it damn near killed me. Oooofff.

G'night.

Rock Star

aka, A 15 K.

aka, I think I'm almost back.

In answer to the question, yes. It is crazy to get up earlyish and pay $25 to run 9ish miles in the freezing cold. But, it is fun (for me) to know that I'm slowly starting to get my pre-marathon speed back. My smart friend Dave once told me that you had to run fast to get fast (ie, speed work). I wasn't sure if I believed him, but I've been trying it and it seems, perhaps to be working. So, before the marathon I generally ran between 9 and 10 mpm. Since the marathon its been more liked between 10 and 11 mpm. Yesterday, I ran 9ish miles when I should have been on an 8 mile long run in preparation for a late January 1/2 marathon, which is to say that I wasn't rested or racing, per se. Yet my splits were: 10:10; 9:57 ;10:21 ;10:14; 9:59; 12:28 (bathroom) ;10:13 ;11:14 (walked up a hill that I couldn't bear to run up twice in one day); and 10:07. Most of those splits are much, much closer to 10 than any other number.

So, yeah, pretty much I'm a rock star;)

A few things, though. On mile 7, running up the hill, I really thought I was going to hurl. I think it was low blood sugar (I forgot my gels). I wonder if its weird that having nothing in my stomach makes me want to hurl? Yesterday, under my right knee cap hurt. Alot. Whenever I bent my leg. Its better today. But, I hope that this isn't a new ailment. A new sign of getting old. And today, my legs, or more specifically my IT Bands, especially the right one ARE SO SORE. Is it maybe not a good idea to run 9 miles (when you should be running 8) in the freezing cold and then, after brunch and driving home, crawl up in the bed for the rest of the day without stretching? I might be on to something there;) I think there is some foam rolling in my future!

Question?

Is it crazy to wake up early(ish, for a Saturday), drive into the city and pay $25 to run 9 miles with weather that 'feels like' 22 degrees?

Answer to come in 9-12 hours.

Mission Accomplished

Well, sort of.

The mission that I have accepted for the next few weeks/months is to do speed work on the treadmill and work on my flip turns. Tuesday morning saw speedwork on the treadmill (4 x 800 meters at 8:40ish mpm) and tonight saw, I'd say 60% flip turns at the pool. I think that I don't get a full breath when I breath in the pool which is why its hard for me to flip turn - I'm oxygen deprived to begin with so its hard to go the extra period of time without breathing. I'll have to focus on that whole breathing thing for the next few weeks. I think its just a matter of getting rid of all the air before I try to take more air in.

Speaking of swimming, there is a girl there that kind of rubs me the wrong way, and tonight she commented that she was glad I came because she wasn't the slowest one. Gee, thanks. I should have thrown down my invite to the championship;)

In other news, I went to yoga on Monday night for the first time in forever and I have apparently lost all core strength because my abs and arms and hamstrings are very, very sore.

Finally, I got a job offer today and it has stressed me out beyond belief. Argh. I am maybe one of the only people stressed out because they have a job offer. But, this means that now I have to make a decision. I repeat: argh.

Goodnight.

Break My Heart

Or: Boys Suck.

Seriously. A boy made my sister sad and it breaks my heart. They're young, and on many levels it qualifies as 'not a big deal.' But still, I wish I could make it go away. And now she contemplating being his 'friend' because, while not ready for a 'relationship' he'd like a friend. WTF?

This is reason number 842 why I may very well be single forever!

I AM A CHAMPION

Dork. A champion dork. But I am also going to a championship. In an effort to disclaim my dorkiness, I'll point out that I have little to no athletic ability, particularly in sports that involve eye hand coordination. Growing up I was always the one to make the last out of the game, I was not the one to be invited to participate in championships of any nature. Triathlon appeals to me because I can compete against myself, improving race to race and while I might disappoint myself I won't let the team down. And really, so long as I have no expectations of coming in first I'm not very likely to disappoint myself ... I mean, really, my goal is generally to just finish - if I fall short of that I likely have bigger issues.

So, last Sunday, I participated in an in door triathlon. Each participant swam for 10 minutes, biked on a spinning bike for 30 minutes and ran on a treadmill for 20 minutes. You were scored by distance travelled and there was some mathematical curve to determine what place you came in. There are four of these races - one a month for four months and the top 10 females and males from each event go to the championships in March.

Guess whose going to the championships?? Yup. I was the 6th female finisher. Ha, ha. I am excited and amused. I've NEVER been to a championship! Until March I am going to work on my flip turns and treadmill speed work. It seems that those would be the easiest ways to improve my odds. If I come in top 3 (which I won't ... but if I did) there is a gift certificate to a very cool store on the line.

Go me!

But for the grace of God.

A good friend suggested that I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you haven't read it, you should. And if you're going to read it, you might not want to read this post. But really, you can, the book's not a cliff hanger.

Anyway, I read it. And it resonated. There is a scene where Elizabeth, in her young thirties is trapped, TRAPPED in a marriage. At night she crawls up on the bathroom floor and cries. She's well off and not abused in any way but she's in this relationship that she wants to escape and she can't. So she hides in the bathroom and cries. I read this, and I realized how easily it could have been me. In a heart beat almost ... there, but for the grace of God, go I. If they, any of them, hadn't had the strength to walk away when they did it could have been me, there, crying on the bathroom floor. And I'm not sure that I would have had the strength to get up off the bathroom floor, much less out of the relationship.

Sometimes I get caught up in the race to the alter, but I read about her on the bathroom floor and I realized that I'd much rather be here than there. Of course this doesn't change the fact that if I get married I think my mother might shave her head as an offering*...but it helps. I have not read the Secret because I don't think I'd buy in, but E, P, L made me want to take control of my life ... and while I may not buy into the Secret, I do maybe buy into the power of positive thinking because since I've decided to embrace life and thank God that I'm not crying on the bathroom floor things have been good.

Sometimes I think that you need to begin a new year, read a good book and put your mind to good and what follows is So.Much.Fun. Or so we hope. Details will follow I'm sure, but for now, you should all E, P, L.


*There is a story in the book about an Indian girl in her late twenties that gets married. The girl's mother is so thankful that she's finally getting married that she shaves her head as an offering to the Gods.