July 4, 2007 | Filed under: I Run Therefore I Am, I'm a Dork, Is She Still Talking?

Things I did not do today:

1. Get myself out of bed in time for a run in the (relative) cold of the early morning.

2. Engage in any patriotic/celebratory/firework-y activity.

3. Eat lunch.

4. Clean the house, do laundry, work, or otherwise be domestically productive.

5. Go to the movies with Tracy.

Corresponding things I did do today:

1. Went for an hour-long run that turned into a half-assed thirty-minute run because who knew it was going to be sweltering already at 10 AM???

2. Listened intently as various NPR celebrities read the Declaration of Independence. The whole darn thing, not just the preamble. Good stuff.
2a. Unintentionally wore red, white and blue. (It was a red and white tie-dyed shirt with jean shorts. No, I’m not sure why I own a tie-dyed shirt either.)
2b. Watched several episodes of Law & Order, thanks to TNT’s 24-hour marathon.

3. Munched on some snacks from Harry & David while watching Law & Order. Hey, making lunch would have interfered with their ability to carry out justice!

4. Took Adele in for an oil change and tire rotation.
4a. Killed time in Heaven Barnes & Noble.
4b. Read a month’s worth of Mimi Smartypants archives.
4c. Started a new book, bringing the total number of unread items on my shelf to a number somewhere in the 4-digits.

5. Got take-out and watched five episodes of Scrubs with Tracy. Waaaay better than any of the movies currently playing.

And now I shall tell you what to do:

1. Read Mimi Smartypants. Try it, you’ll like it. If you’re not patient enough to read all the old entries, just start today and keep reading.

2. Get thee a copy of this book. (Okay, clearly Amazon would like to make this difficult for you. Maybe try a different retailer.) I don’t read nearly as much as I should, but I like a lot of books and happily pass them along/recommend them to others unless they totally suck. (Examples of suckitude: One Hundred Years of Solitude — felt like it took 100 years to read; Anna Karenina — by the end, I wanted to throw myself off the train platform, too; We Were the Mulvaneys — your fucked up family beats my fucked up family, hands down, but there’s not even a nice little moral lesson to learn here. After WWtM, I swore off all Oprah Book Club selections, but in doing the links here I see that she selected those other two books at some point, though after I’d already read them. I rest my case.)

Ahem, sorry. Responsible Men came highly recommended …

[Me, upon learning the title: So, it's a work of fiction, then?

Him: Actually, I thought the title was redundant.

Me: You clearly don't know enough men.]

… by someone who knows the author. So far, though, it is wonderful. I’m not sure that it’s going to be A Book That Changes My Life, but it’s at least as engaging as the fluffy chick lit I read at the gym, and definitely a little deeper. The author manages to be insightful, but avoids getting too too heavy with the navel-gazing/psychoanalytical stuff, so there’s no need to save this for your next dark and stormy period of self-absorption.

My favorite passage thus far:

Not the future Caleb dreamed of, not the future he deserved. But who gets the future they deserve?

That’s going to rattle around in my brain for days.

Pick up a copy. Let us know what you think. Or leave suggestions of things you’ve read recently and liked. Forget Oprah, we can start our own book club here!

May 21, 2007 | Filed under: Because They Pay Me, I Run Therefore I Am, Is She Still Talking?

Recommendation of the Day: Long day? Go running. Especially if you just got home from happy hour.

Your knees won’t hurt as much at all. Admittedly, you may find yourself a bit more dehydrated than usual, but that’s no big deal, just drink some extra water when you get home. However, you will be more than ready for bed by 9 pm. That may be due to your 12-hour workday, but maybe it’s due to the run. Hard to tell.

May 6, 2007 | Filed under: I Run Therefore I Am

2 hours, 21 minutes, 11.4 seconds for an overall pace of 10:47/mile.

Nothing to be insanely jealous of, considering the top female finisher had a pace of 6:10, but definitely faster than I had hoped for. I figured I’d be in the 11:30-12:00/mile range — the same pace as my training runs typically are. Under 11 minutes is a great stat, especially since it’s nearly a minute faster than my last race and yesterday’s distance was more than double the 10k. Considerable improvement.

Highlights from the race:

Starting Line — Damn, it’s cold! Can’t wait to be running, just to warm up, but at least I won’t have to worry about heat exhaustion. Bad news for the knee, though, as things are definitely tight and will be for a good long while. Have already lost track of how many Advil I’ve taken today. Four? Six? Something like that.

Mile 1 — Aid station, woo! Must consume sports drink. They were serving Gu which, as was so aptly described, tastes like ass. It smells awful, too. AND, there were chunks of ice floating in my cup, which I nearly choked on. Not helpful when you’re trying to drink and run at the same time, people! Wondered if I could get away with only drinking water the rest of the way, because that was an experience I didn’t need to repeat. Doubtful.

Mile 3 — iPod selects Beck’s “Loser” for my amusement. Good thing it’s early in the race, or I might not be so amused.

Mile 4-ish — Aid station, woo! Consider only water, decide against it. Sports drink surprisingly tasty. Wonder if my body was that desperate already.

Mile 4.5 — See lead runner on his way to the finish line. 46 minutes into the race, he had already completed 2/3 of the course. Bastard.

Mile 5 — Aid station, woo! Sports drink. Oooh, it’s Gatorade, this time, not Gu. No wonder it doesn’t taste like crap. That explains it. Probably explains the previous aid station, too.

Mile 6.55 — Turn-around point. Oh, the chafing. Dammit. How much further do we have to go? Oh right, the entire way back. Damn.

Mile 7 — Pre-appointed time for gel. Ew. Reminds me of the jelly part of a jelly-filled donut, only with a thicker consistency and less delicious flavor. Decide closest comparison is that of eating toothpaste — sorta tastes good, sorta doesn’t resemble food at all. Use skills honed in college to essentially do shots of the stuff, trying to not actually have it in my mouth/taste it for more than 2 seconds. Decide the mile 10 Gu is not happening unless I really, really need it.

Mile 9 — La, la, la, this is so lovely. Maybe I should run the Marine Corps Marathon. That could be fun.

Mile 9.012 — I’m bored. How much further? Four miles? $%*&#! And you were thinking about running an entire marathon? Moron.

Mile 9.5-ish — Eek. Landed funny running downhill and tweaked my knee a bit. No no no no no no no no no! Breathe. Seems to be ok, just be a little more careful.

Mile 10-ish — Hmm. Blisters. Awesome. Thankfully, between the chafing and the blistering, the knee pain is much less noticable.

Mile 11 — Pause for some stretching and station identification. We are almost done and my rapidly tightening up calves are not going to be the death of me!

Mile 12 — Final aid station. Gu. Still as gross as the first time. The smell reminds me of … something. Dirty dishwater? A camping experience? Can’t put my finger on it, but it’s definitely not enticing. Gag down two mouthfuls.*

Mile 12.5-ish — Almost there, time to pick up the pace.

Mile 13 — “There is only one way to finish, and that is: you finish hard.” Thanks, Coach Dye. Am forced to sprint the last tenth of a mile.**

Finish Line — Someone is cutting the timing chip off my shoe and someone else is shoving the medal in my hand. Meanwhile, I’m trying to (a) suck as much oxygen into my lungs as possible and (b) locate water. Who the hell is saying my name? Oh, the announcer guy. Well that’s nice. Can you point me to the water?

Saturday afternoon — The hardest part was getting out of the car when I got home. Oh, the legs were not happy with me. I made it up to them by not leaving the couch the rest of the day.

Sunday — Did you know that wearing heels makes your knees work a lot harder to stabilize you while walking? Yes, well good for you. I found out the hard way. Decide flip-flops are “work appropriate” this week, as they may be the only flats I own.

Monday — Yoga class and post-race massage. Cannot wait.

Tuesday — It’s been 72 hours. Must go for a run before I develop the shakes.

* Upon further reflection, I think it’s the smell of the ocean — very salty with that vague fishy/seaweedy/decaying essence. Yummy.

** My high school track coach, a million years ago. And by “sprint,” I mean “run faster than I have all day,” because, let me tell you, there was no actual sprinting going on.

May 4, 2007 | Filed under: I Run Therefore I Am

My average attention span today. Good thing I had a bunch of reports to read and — oh, wait.

Have I mentioned that I’m running a half marathon tomorrow? Yup. And if I don’t manage to chill the hell out, I’m going to be running 8-minute miles for the first few miles. After which I will die.

When the experts tell you to carbo-load before a race, do you think they had picking out and eating all the jelly beans from a package of Harry & David’s Easter Candy Mix in mind? Yeah, I didn’t think so either.

FYI — the “mallow cremes” are gross. Just throw those away. And save the chocolate eggs for another day. Preferably a day when work is kicking your ass.

Is it 5:00 yet? Because if so, Tracy and I are out doing some outlet mall shopping (read: wandering around aimlessly each with our respective short attention spans) and having a sensible dinner of pasta and bread and more pasta. Perhaps the food coma will enable us to sleep tonight.

May 3, 2007 | Filed under: I Run Therefore I Am, Is She Still Talking?

A few weeks ago I came home from a run, took a quick shower and threw on shorts and a t-shirt to wear around the house the rest of the night. They’re nothing special, just casual and comfortable and have been in my wardrobe forever.

Shortly thereafter I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized it looked like I’d been scrounging for clothes in my boyfriend’s closet again. The clothes, they were huge! The shorts were literally falling off my hips, and the shirt could nearly have been a dress. A quick check of the tags revealed that the t-shirt is a size Large and the shorts are “Adult Medium.”

What concerns me the most, however, is not that I appear to be a 12-year old boy, nor that I have over-sized clothing in my closet that obviously needs purging, but that at some point I purchased these items in these sizes. Because that was the style.

Yes, I posted a picture. No, I have no shame. Yes, those are, in fact Umbros. You remember Umbros, don’t you?

Also, not that you can really tell beneath that knit cotton tent, but I had to stop and put a bra on before taking this picture. Because my mother would die a thousand deaths if she knew there was a picture of me, bra-less, on the Internet. She would also die if she knew I was telling you this, which is why we won’t mention it to her, OK?