June 5, 2007 | Filed under: I Write About My Feelings, People I Like Even More Than My Job

You know, if you don’t want to run again, I respect that. But if you don’t run because you think it’s gonna be too hard or you think you’re gonna lose, well, God, Jed, I don’t even want to know you.

A while back I had dinner with my friend Danielle and, as we put back a bottle of wine, we discussed our respective career plans and personal life exploits and hatched plots to Escape from Alcatraz California. (She, by the way, is already implementing her plan. Bitch.)

Of course, in looking ahead to the future, we also analyzed the past — what worked, what didn’t, how we ended up where we are. About her selection of undergrad majors, she said, “Everyone said it was hard, so I was going to do it.”

And in that one moment, our eight years of friendship suddenly made a lot more sense.

I don’t know that I choose things simply because they’re hard, but I certainly don’t shy away from things that are challenging. (See, e.g.,: moving to California, climbing mountains, running a half marathon and dealing with stupid boys.) As I’ve explained, some of this is just hard-wired in me.

I really don’t mind new challenges, but what is driving me nuts is the seeming endlessness of the quest. The pursuit of a goal, without any intermediate victories to sustain me, my god, it is soul-sucking. It makes me question whether the pain is really worth it. It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t stop with the banging-head-against-a-brick-wall lifestyle.

I expressed some of my doubts to Danielle, explained why my pursuits are nearly in vain, why perhaps I should focus on a slightly more attainable goal — like single-handedly curing cancer — rather than continue headlong down this endless path of futility, how I have to come to terms with the fact that maybe things aren’t going to work out for me like I want them to.

She looked at me, and asked pointedly, “But you’re not giving up, right?”

And the thing is, for all my doubts (not doubts in my abilities, mind you, doubts that The Universe will come through for me) and all my pragmatic thinking and the reminders that maybe I won’t get what I want, I.Will.Not.Give.Up.

So. What’s next?

May 17, 2007 | Filed under: People I Like Even More Than My Job

Ahh, Texas. There’s no place like it in the world. And thank goodness for that — I’m not sure I could live somewhere with that much humidity and that huge of roaches on a regular basis! (No, there are no roach pictures. You’re welcome.)

The capitol.

Inside the capitol dome.

Fuzzily-lit downtown Austin.

A zillion bats flying at night. To see what happens when I apply my CSI skillz to this picture, click here. And never trust the dark again.

I miss it already. I miss vodka every night before bed. I miss waking up in the morning without an alarm clock. I miss burning off enough calories just by talking to make up for the constant supply of tempting, un-diet-friendly food. (What I do not miss? Animatronic LBJ. Dude is frightening!)

But mostly I miss someone I’ve known for half my life, who probably knows me better than I know myself, and, despite that, is friends with me anyway.

See how the grainy film effect makes us not look so ghostly pale? Love it!

March 27, 2007 | Filed under: People I Like Even More Than My Job

I keep thinking, “tonight’s the night when I’ll write about the weekend.” But “tonight” is also the night that I’m going to make a bunch of blog fixes, do laundry, work late, go to bed early, and have an hours-long conversation with a friend.

So, yeah. All I have to offer you today is a pretty picture, courtesy of Lori, in honor of my decidedly superfantastic. week last week. These are the Official Rat Bastard Flowers, which are appropriate when someone has been a rat bastard to you. Or The Universe at large has. Regardless of the reason, they’re awful pretty!

I think this episode serves to make Lori the best boyfriend I never had.

March 16, 2007 | Filed under: I Run Therefore I Am, People I Like Even More Than My Job

Retail therapy isn’t much fun if you don’t find what you’re looking for. And I am looking for just ONE DAMN PAIR of running shorts that don’t ride up and leave my poor, defenseless thighs to rub together and create some disturbing heat-rash-and-tiny-blisters-combination. Sexy, huh? OK, now please stop picturing that.

Let me back up here a moment, as a number of events have conspired recently leading to this point. First, Daylight Saving Time has taken over the universe and now lasts 11 of the 12 months of the year. I find this highly annoying, as I prefer my “extra” hour of daylight in the morning, thankyouverymuch, so this move to spring forward three weeks ahead of normal left me nothing but grumpy. Last week I actually had to wait for the sun to come up before I went for a run. I filled my extra time with work. I’d like to avoid that scenario in the future. But, nooooooo. No, we have to have silly little Daylight Saving That Doesn’t Actually Reduce Our Overall Energy Consumption Because We Spend More Time In Our Cars, Burning Gasoline, But Nobody Ever Talks About THAT, Now Do They? Time.

Where was I? Oh right. So, last week when I realized that the weather was nice enough for my morning runs to be conducted outdoors, but the sunlight thing was lacking (and would be even worse, once the clocks changed), I started tossing around the idea of working early in the day, while it’s still dark out, and exercising at “night,” when it’s light.

Then. Then Tracy and I took a little road trip and she, all-casual-like said, “Hey, if you’re still thinking about running a half marathon, there’s one coming up in May. Cinco de Mayo, actually.” Well shit. I hadn’t been thinking about running one, as my mind was still firmly planted in ski season, but I do have that half marathon training program hanging on my bulletin board at work and I could just pull that out and actually put it to good use.

So, there you have it: I’m running a half marathon. On May 5. Because I am an idiot.

Also idiotic: the training program is a 12-week thing, with options to make it longer. Those of you with good calendar skills will notice that there are not 12 weeks between now and May 5. So, I’m starting in week 5 and just pretending those last four weeks don’t really count anyway. The good news is, my mileage is already there — at the Week 5 mark. The bad news is that I’m not exactly accustomed to working out six days a week and the thought of the 10-mile long run in a few weeks makes me want to curl up in the fetal position already. To say nothing of the actual 13.1 miles the race directors expect me to run.

And that explains why I have spent countless hours debating the relative merits of roughly 249,503 pairs of shorts, half of which are currently strewn about my bedroom, none of which have yet convinced me that they are the pair I’m searching for. I’d share with you all the gory details, but at last we have reached the limits of what I’m willing to discuss with the entire Internet, and lo, it is my thighs. And if any of you are currently tempted to make some crack about said thighs, well, a nasty look is headed your way, because Friday is the training plan’s designated Rest Day and I sure as hell am not getting up off the couch in order to come do anything about it.

March 14, 2007 | Filed under: People I Like Even More Than My Job, The California Adventure

Oh, Internet! I have so much to say! But it’s late and I’m a huge ball of stress and words aren’t really going to work out so well, unless you like half-sentences and totally made-up words and lame, lame titles like the one above.

Instead, have some pretty pictures I took this weekend while galavanting around Northern California with Ms. Horrible Warning.

(See how lazy I am today? Didn’t even center things for you. I should be fired.)

Point Reyes National Seashore

Uh, the seashore. Duh.

Lighthouse at the Point. I hear there’s a spectacular view of the Pacific from here. I’ll just take their word for it.

Three hundred steps to get there? Bah — that’s child’s play!

This is what I imagine the moors of England look like. Heathcliiiiiifffffff…

All right, off to bed. View the whole set here.