post the forty-seventh, 2013

marathon training requires a lot of time, a lot of perseverance, and a lot of shoes. right now, i have two pair going at work and two at home.

the two at work are both new balance, same model, different color. one pair has 363 miles on it and one 359, so despite my inattention to this detail, i have done an admirable job keeping it even. bravo, ace. the rule of thumb is to replace running shoes at 400 miles, and considering the rate i'm piling on mileage, these guys are on short notice. one of the two is just a tidge too long, maybe half a size, and the other's just right. longfellow will go in the give-away pile and goldilocks will go into rotation at home.

at home i have marathon-jones (a pair of new balance racers) and an old pair of nike lunar flys. according to my calculations, if i take marathon-jones out only for saturday running (12-14 alternating with 18-20) they should have around 250 miles on them come marathon day. hope that's okay with the universe.

the lunar flys... those shoes have been good friends to me. i picked them up off the clearance table and loved them right away. they ran with me a bit, then waited patiently while i rehabbed the various pains associated with leg length differential, and quite happily joined me again when i was ready. i have run the hell out of those shoes and they have around 600 miles on them. their time really is up. i have wanted to replace them with another pair of lunar flys, but it seemed that nike had discontinued them. while shopping tonight, i discovered that nike does indeed still make the lunar fly, but the current shoe is completely different from the one i have. i tried them on, and they would probably be good, but they are so different, i just couldn't pull the trigger. that shoe i have is a great shoe. they shouldn't have quit making it.

so, the ol' flys will go into the casual wear category and goldilocks will move into rotation with marathon-jones. that takes care of the home-weekend category. what of work-weekday?

well.

this evening i got two new pairs of shoes!!

like i said, i tried the lunar flys and they were unfortunately bland. so, i moved on. out of pure nostalgia, i tried the nike pegasus, an earlier iteration of which were my first on-purpose running shoes. alas, the new pegasus also let me down. there was nothing left but to branch out.

i brought home a pair of saucony kinvara and a pair of brooks pureflow.

the end.

the brooks have some sort of elastic band across the tongue. whatever. they felt good.

look. the kinvaras are pink. 

post the forty-sixth, 2013

alpharetta amaretto amarillo armadillo

eh?

what?

SO.

last night i had a massage and it was the best damn massage i ever had. i credit this to its not being a frou-frou spa massage but rather having as its identity: sports massage (at the gym).

but, i am getting ahead of myself.

as i have explained before, i've been disappointed before. i had pretty much decided not to ever have another massage.

AND THEN... then my old man gets this free massage at the gym and he is all, they are decent, and i am all, mmmmm... maybe.

AND THEN... he pays for one, and he is all, they are worth paying for, and i am all, mmmmm... maybe.

AND THEN... he purchases a groupon for more gym massages and he is like, do you want to use this? i am all, mmmmm... okay fine.

all day long, i am looking forward to the experience. this is the exact opposite of my usual dread -- composed of half dreading the massage and about 75% dreading the Spa Experience. the much-touted Spa Experience is supposedly meant to make one feel pampered, but for me it's more flashbacks to 11th-grade-worthy angst. NO I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT I AM JUST NOT A SPA GIRL LEAVE ME ALONE.

anyway.

hope springs eternal and i am looking forward to it. the appointment is for 19:45, so i have plenty of forward into which to look. finally the appointed time arrives, and i arrive at the gym, and the cute, young, athletic masseuse is eating a cookie. haha, she apologizes, sorry! i am like - hey, girl, have that cookie and don't be touching me with hungry hands. so she finishes the cookie while i finish the paperwork.

and then she spends an hour working the kinks out of my lower back and legs. that's right SHE LISTENED TO ME. among other things, she climbs on the table to stretch my hamstrings. frou-frou spa masseuses don't climb on tables. HA! it is great, relaxing, helpful to my poor tight legs, and at the end i am equal parts relaxed and thrilled she had done as i requested.

i go to the desk to collect my complimentary rehydration formulation (i.e., bottled water)... feeling patchouli'ish... and she hands me a receipt and i blithely pay it. thanks. my pleasure. see you later. okay sure. bye. bye.

(it isn't until i get home that i remember i was supposed to use the groupon and not pay anything at all.)

post the forty-fifth, 2013

i enjoy wearing yoga pants more than i enjoy yoga. i mean, yoga's okay and all, but the pants are fabulous -- so soft and stretchy, never binding or constricting, never gaping or sagging, always moving and breathing. just lovely. do they look lovely? well, they look lovely on the hangar when the hangar's hanging on the rack. on people... well, opinions differ. as for me, i think they look okay on most people and on the rest of us, well who really gives a fig newton. people wear all sorts of terrible things that look all sorts of terrible ways - plumbers in their saggy pants, teenagers sluffing around in uggs, all manner of folk in all manner of poorly selected, ill-fitting clothing. we're all just a bunch of slobs, why shouldn't some of us be comfortable? why? WHY. no reason. comfort is not a crime. does my comfort offend you? does it? well then. perhaps you should avert your eyes.

looking good!
(technically, not me.)

post the forty-fourth, 2013

so. about yesterday's run. i already explained it was an 18-miler. the format was 6 miles easy, 6 miles MP, and 6 miles easy. MP is marathon pace, which for me is meant to be 9:00 minutes per mile.

it is 6 miles to the park, 1 mile around the park. so, 6 miles there, 6x1 mile, then 6 miles home. easy peasy. the only problem was the 6 miles in the park, meant to be MP (9m/m), turned out to be anywhere from 8:27 to 7:57. there's actually about .05 or so from the "end mile" to the "start mile" and i was looping around so that added .05 per loop. does that make sense? if i had gone from start to end, touched the end sign, turn around and went back to start, that would have been two miles. but i went start to end then continued the loop to the start, which totals 1.05. ANYWAY THAT JUST MAKES IT WORSE because it means i did around 6.3 (6.38 according to my watch) in 50:40.

why is it a problem to run fast, ace? isn't running fast the point of running? the fastest person wins, right?

i know. it's confusing, but what is good for racing isn't always good for training. training too fast can lead to injury and over-tiredness. it's improper race preparation.

so, ace, if going fast is so terrible, why are you doing it?

hell if i know.

seriously, hell if i know. but i have given in quite a bit of thought, and here's what i have come up with.

1. my watch is broken. -- not likely. one thing it doesn't do well is give accurate mid-mile paces. like, at the half-mile, it could say 10:20 pace, and i could end up the mile in 8 minutes. i don't have the latest technology, but it's really quite good at clocking mile distance and mile pace most all of the time. i don't think my watch is broken.

2. i am delusional. -- highly likely. never to be discounted.

3. i don't know what the fock i am doing. -- i think this is the most likely culprit. i've been running since junior high, but i've rarely if ever been completely serious about it, so i've never paid this much attention.

3a. effort-to-pace is (duh) the amount of effort you put into holding a particular pace. on a treadmill, because the pace is set by the machine, the environment is controlled, so i would think this would be a good place to learn about effort-to-pace. it's really hard for me to hold a 9m/m - takes a lot of effort, work, hard breathing, fast leg turnover, etc. outside, when i put in that sort of effort, i get something around 8m/m. i get a whole more minute for the same effort. why? i am not sure, but i guess it's because a treadmill takes a different sort of effort than running outside, so i can't just equate the two. this is a bummer because it means the place i can definitely control the pace - a treadmill - isn't helpful.

3b. slowing down must not be that simple because i am trying but not accomplishing it. i think i might be equating "relax" with "slow down" but when i relax i go faster. not even sure that makes sense. (see point #2)

3c. i am more concerned about too slow than too fast. this just dawned on me this morning while i was jogging around at RECOVERY PACE. i don't consciously think about wanting to come in under the mark instead of over it, but it's possible that is in the back of my mind. i should probably try to bring it to the front of my mind and then flick it on the forehead.

bottom line, i am doing something wrong, and i am open to suggestions for fixing it.

post the forty-third, 2013

today's run was 18 miles. something about 18 miles sounds really, really far. obviously it's shorter than a marathon, and later training runs will be 20 miles, which is obviously longer than 18, but still. something about 18 miles sounds daunting. i was actually concerned about being bored - before i left this morning, i thought about how i might get bored out there. the waiter at dinner tonight has been running for about a year, so he was asking me about how that is, running 18 miles, and don't you get... bored? i was like, odd you should ask, because i was actually concerned about that this morning, but no, i don't get bored. i said, some people use music, and that's what waiter-boy said, that he uses music. i said, i don't, but i see how you could. and i do. i see how you could use music or even podcasts or audiobooks. maybe it would make the time pass differently, but i don't know... it just doesn't seem right somehow. i mean, i am running as an outlet from LIFE. why would i want an outlet from running?

post the forty-second, 2013

i've taken to driving around with the radio off. i tried music. i tried talk. i even tried pandora comedy channels. nothing satisfies. there's something soothing about driving around, listening to the car purr and hum and click, the rhythm and the beat of it - it's like the car's alive, too.

between my interstate exit and the one four miles up, there are two other interchanges. so, that's four interchanges in four miles. sort of crowds things up. there are on ramps, off ramps, exit only, this lane ends. i can board the freeway at my interchange, not change lanes, and deboard at the next interchange. it's pretty convenient for short trips but i never use it. well, until tonight. i tried it tonight but it seems weird to get on the freeway just to get off again. the freeway doesn't seem like other roads, you know? seems like a trip road, a long trip road... or at least a day trip road... or at the very least a trip-to-work trip road. i mean, not like a road to go from the house to the burger joint. i know because i tried it tonight and it's just not the road for that.

my car didn't like it either.

post the forty-first, 2013

we're going on a trip, and i am designated to book the rooms. seems easy enough, but oh yeah -- we are flying on buddy passes. five people on five buddy passes all trying to get to san diego during spring break. makes a non-refundable room seem like a bit of a risk. however, i can get a room for half price -- so like, 4 nights at $109 per, $436 total. say we lose one, so we pay $145 average (436/3). that's still less than the going rate, but who wants to lose money? but, if we were to pay $200 per, that's losing money, too, isn't it - but just in a different way. gah! i could wait, try again tomorrow, but eventually the $109 rate is going to climb up, isn't it? what if it goes up tomorrow? what if it goes away totally, all the rooms get booked? or, what if the rate doesn't climb but jumps right up to the whole rate? what if the special goes away totally, or what if it goes away for part of the group but not all, and would that even be possible???

alls i can say is it's a damn good thing we are going on vacation because all this planning is wearing me out.

post the fortieth, 2013

there's a story in the news right now about a woman who gave birth to a child who had cocaine in his system. according to the woman, in 2007 a friend spilled cocaine on her two days before she gave birth. she also claims to have had marijuana in her system because she inhaled second-hand smoke from a cancer patient. the mother's argument is that laws against child abuse don't apply to fetuses (feti??) and that there's no abuse anyway since the child doesn't show any complications.

here's a kid who's milking the parent for all they're worth.
alternate caption: does "pull my finger" qualify as abuse?

but -- how can anyone say if the child is exhibiting complications or effects from having been exposed to drugs in the womb? sure, the baby could be of normal intelligence and pass his apgar with normal scores, BUT HOWEVER WHAT IF he were meant to be a genius with exceptional athletic ability? being normal or average does not indicate there was no harm done.

the new jersey supreme court heard the case. chief justice stuart rabner said in making the decision, the court had to weight the parent's right to "raise a child without undue interference by the state" against the state's "responsibility to protect the welfare of children". well, sure, that about sums it up, doesn't it now. i mean, those are the two sides of the case. interestingly, parents who favor corporal punishment would likely side with a crack mama in this case.

the real question: what would judge judy do?

the generic state is forever taking kids away from their parents for all sorts of poor parental choices. the difference in this case is they're taking into account that the baby (supposedly) wasn't harmed by the mother's choice. firstly, they don't really know if he was harmed or not harmed. secondly, looking at the consequences as a factor in culpability is looking at things backwards. exempli gratis: if we are going to look at the consequences as a factor in one's guilt, then if one were to rob a bank, but the bank had insurance and all the customer accounts were covered and no customers withdrew their money or thought less of the bank for its having been robbed... if all this were the case, then one could just be forgiven, right? there weren't any bad consequences, so there's no blame to place. right?

post the thirty-ninth, 2013

track workouts cause me equal parts delight and anxiety. it's all still new, there's an element of surprise, something bright and shiny to occupy my fitful brain, to sate my bottomless curiosity. but despite the pretty distractions, i remain well-aware that i am to be Working On Something Specific and therefore cannot give in to the pure fun, pure play of the experience. i must keep watch over my focus, be vigilant over my effort in a way that i am not quite sure i am capable... hence the anxiety.

workout cats be serious.

today's workout is simple enough: 5x800. in case you don't know, 800 means 800 meters - twice around the track or approximately one half mile. i've never done this workout, so i am curious to see what happens, but at the same time, i know holding focus and pace for two circuits will be a challenge. once around, i can bust that out and hang on for dear life, but twice? i am going to have to dole out the effort.

i'm thankful to have learned there's a public track about 1.5 miles from my office. obviously, one cannot do a track workout without a track, but the point of the workout is the intervals, not the track per se. without the track, i'd be forced to do these streetside, and talk about distracting. at least on the track, i have an outside chance of focusing.

it's 40º, so i put on neon pink shorts, sleeveless top under a long-sleeve shirt, mittens, orange shoes. i jog over to the track, taking about 16 minutes to get there, warming up. it's a bit windy and the track's atop a hill, so i know the wind will be a factor today. i arrive at the park, shut off my watch at 16, and walk across blacktopped parking, climbing the hill via a wheelchair ramp. the irony is delicious, no? at the track complex, i see there are a few collegiate folk working on their field skills - pole vault, hammer throw, shot put. no one is using the track.

i demitten and jam the woolies into fence near the bleachers. i expect not to need them -- to get warm enough doing intervals to not need them -- but i'll want them for the return trip so i secure them against blowing away. yes, it's that windy. i step onto the track, move to lane one, start my watch and my feet as near to simultaneous as possible.

mitten's in the fence.

coming around the first turn, approaching the hammer and shot cage, i try to hold nice form. clearly i don't want to embarrass myself in front of the young folk, but i also know enough about running to know that stride efficiency and consistent form are key to speed and endurance. yes, i am looking good. i round the second turn and hit a wall of wind. aeolus on a cracker! i bow into it, imagining i'm more aerodynamic that way. it's a pushing fight down the backstretch, turn three brings more wind (!!), then turn four, back on the front stretch and the wind is at my back. conclusion: the front stretch is where i will make hay today.

lap one. lap two. first rest.

the 800s are interspersed with 400 rest. coach didn't give a time or pace for these - only said try not to stop or walk, so i don't stop and i don't walk. there's no confusing this pace with the "on" pace, but hey, no worries. everyone here knows what's what. i'm obviously a lunatic for running intervals in this wind, but at least i appear to have a plan, right?

the 800s are to be 3:50-4:00. the first started at 16:00 and ended at 19:47, so i am pretty much right on target there. just keep the same effort, right? probably will slow down due to fatigue and wind, and end up in the given range.

second interval is as hard as the first but i am ready for the wind so it doesn't mess with my head mentally, but as for PHYSICALLY... my nose is running faster than i am. my right sleeve is quickly wet with snot. i've strapped my garmin over the left sleeve - i have this thing about flappy sleeves - so to avoid k.o.'ing myself with ol' garmy, i confine the snot wiping to starboard.

second rest. as i peacefully joggle around the track, i have a chance to watch the collegians at work. is this the JV? they aren't very good. maybe it's the wind.

hup-ho. third interval. after i complete this one, i will be over half finished. that's an inspiration right there. i buckle down and try to get a good one here, don't let the wind have its way. somewhere in this lap a snot-wipe catches blood. oh, yeah! that's right! working hard! bloody nose!

fast-cat goes running. other cats merely observe.

i can't tell how fast these are. the first one started on an even 16:00, but the following are not so tidy since i am chain-running them. just trying to keep an even effort and good form.

third rest. fourth interval. the penultimate interval has a specific challenge - don't hold back too much for the last one. i want the last to be the fastest, so there's a mental thing going on about conserving for it. i don't want to spend my all on the fourth, but i do want it to be respectable. i do allow a daydream about the final interval, though, imagining how it will go, how strong i'll feel putting all my effort on the line. i know now that i'll finish the workout, so i also think about how i'll feel satisfied to have accomplished it.

fourth rest. this is the slowest of them all. partially, i'm pretty much beat, but partially i am stocking up for the final interval. coming down the front stretch, approaching the start of the fifth 800, i am eager to see what i have left, anxious about having enough, excited to be almost done.

the fifth interval starts like the others, so i try right away to put more into it -- since, you know, it's not meant to be like the others. i really push into the wind on the back stretch. by the start of the second lap, i am heating up but since i'm strapped into the shirt, i can't get out. gah! i breathe any old way i can, let the snot just fly where it will. on the final straightaway, my form is breaking down, i can feel it, so i just focus on not tripping over myself, and i RUN.

boom. finished. i have no idea if that's how a workout is meant to work, but that's how i work it, and it feels good to me. i put my mittens back on and trot happily back to the office.

happy is the cat who completes her workout.

post the thirty-eighth, 2013

so. read 500 lines of poetry, eh?

last week i finished reading a collection of the works of robert frost and here's what i have to say about the collected works of robert frost: that man had like one and a half solid pieces of poetry in him. thalia wept!

20 or so lines per page. 100 or so pages. 2000 lines? what? ridiculous. seemed more like 2 million.

okay, so here are a few highlights.

It's when i'm weary of considerations,/ And life is too much like a pathless wood.

i marked this in part because one of frost's most famous poems (the one good one) is about choosing between two paths in a wood. so you can see that paths in the wood carry meaning for this man. in this bit, he's saying that when he's tired of being a grownup and life is confusing, he wants to get away and swing in the trees.


One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

this line ends the pathless woods poem. you know, he's tired of living in a house and whatnot. now, that's a good line. understated.


...resurrected tree,/ A tree that had been down and raised again--/ A barkless spectre...

this is a description of... a telegraph pole. sweet! nice imagery there.


But if you shrink from being scared,/ What would you say to war if it should come?

this line comes in the middle of a poem about a bonfire. he's talking to his children about burning a brush pile collected up on the hill, and how a large, almost out-of-control fire would scare the neighbors. the children ask, would it scare him, too, and he says why wouldn't it? why wouldn't it? and they go on to ask, "if it scares you, what will it do to us?" "scare you." he says. "but if you shrink from being scared, what would you say to war if it should come?"


Something there is that doesn't love a wall,/ That wants it down.

fairly self-explanatory, eh? concise, yet loaded. good one, mr frost.


dear me, why abandon a belief/ Merely because it ceases to be true?

hey, now. that's pretty funny right there.


Who cares what they say? It's a nice way to live,/ Just taking what Nature is willing to give, /Not forcing her hand with harrow and plow."

yes. i concur, mr frost.


But I am done with apple-picking now.

ah... yes. yes, you are, mr frost... yes, you are.

post the thirty-seventh, 2013

we all know quite well we are going to die,
but we assume it won't be today.
we've got too much planned - go, see, do, be.
gotta work, eat, buy, learn, play.
but imagine a life a hundred years long,
in the end tired through and through.
not sure i'd want to live a hundred years, not sure...
what about you?

~~~~~~

here's a question. what's the point of putting cremains into a secure container and burying them in the ground? although i don't agree with, i do comprehend the concept of putting a dead body in a decay-proof box and putting that box in the ground for safekeeping. as i understand it, the belief goes thuswise: when the world ends, the dead will be called forth from the grave to rise up bodily into the heavens. (i could have that incorrect.) and, so, that makes its own brand of sense. but, cremains, stored in a marble box which is sealed up tight then stowed into a brass box which is sealed up tight... what's the point?

post the thirty-sixth, 2013

packing to leave is never as much fun as packing to go somewhere. partially it's more fun to go on a trip than go home. partially it's how everything is in a disarray and half of it's dirty. tomorrow i have to check out of the room and then go to meetings, so i can't quite pack as i'd like. the way i got everything here -- in two bags -- required some creative packing of items i'll need to have out in the morning. specifically - computer and computer tote were both stowed in the backpack. i will just need a few minutes alone with my baggage to pull it all together. seems like a small thing and most people probably wouldn't give it a second thought.

post the thirty-fifth, 2013

it has been a while since i've flown. the last trip i took was to houston, and i was there when grenouille was born (in another city), so that's nearly 5 years. since the last time i'd been through, the local aeroport has remodeled the security passthrough. where formerly there were two sort of casual lines, there are now four very official clearance areas. looks like our little aeroport is all grown up. today i arrived at in plenty of time to go through security twice. i declined to give up my water - i drank it - but still had to go around again (and i was not even wearing a hat, party or otherwise).

after i passed the second go-round, i took the long hike to the gate, and found the time to be 6:08am. flight leaves at... 7:30. what the hell. i parked the car at close to 5:30, took the shuttle, traversed security twice, walked to the other end of the giant field of tarmac that is this aeroport - all in 40 minutes?? i settled down to wait. waited. twice lugged my stuff (carry-ons not looking so great now, eh what?) to the restroom, restroomed, returned to seat, contemplated getting food, decided not to.

around 7:00, they told us the flight would board 15 mins late, and it did, and after we'd boarded, they told us we'd leave 15 mins late, and we did. but we had a hella tailwind and arrived too soon. i know this because the pilot said we'd be making our descent, and we descended a bit, and the flight attendants all buckled in, and then we leveled out for quite a while and the flight attendants kept getting up and checking stuff and strapping back in. finally, we descended for real.

since i did not have to visit the baggage carousel, i went straight to hotel shuttles (did not pass go). the nice port authority lady dialed me up a "shared transport" (stretch hummer? not so much.) and booked me a seat. easy peasy. again, i contemplated snacking but... HEY - all the food is on the other side of security!

okay, fine, i'll be fine. almost there, right?

they call my number and i get on the shuttle. not surprisingly, when it's time to pay the guy is all... oh, the visa machine is broken, must pay cash, cash, cash. OKAY I HEAR YOU BUDDY CASH CASH. paid, got a receipt, and i thought we were finally on our way, but no. we pulled up to another area and picked up another passenger. she got in and plopped down in the seat and the driver is like... pay? oh, no - she won't be paying because she purchased a voucher online.

whaaaat?

she is determined not to pay. he is determined she will pay. back and forth, forth and back... until - she is dialing up the online place where she purchased the voucher and fussing at them. still, we are sitting at the aeroport! i said to the driver, give me a refund, i am getting off this crazy tram. he was like, uh... then he called dispatch and dispatch said go so we went. good that i didn't have to hassle with finding another ride but bad that i am still with crazy cash man.

we circle around and leave the aeroport, hit the freeway, and he rolls down the driver window. i mean, rolls DOWN. all the way DOWN. it's like 4ºc, which in fahrenheit is OMG! wind, drizzle, and 4ºc air? srsly??

take an exit and we're busting down the streets of the city. there is snow and slush and water and ice everywhere so of course there are a ton of pedestrians walking in front of cars (as is their wont) and bicycles everywhere. bicycles? oh, sure, who doesn't bicycle in traffic in the snow? and, of course, with all the pedestrians and cyclists, my shuttle driver is being extra cautious, right? HAHAHAH! if by "extra cautious" you mean, "so oblivious as to apparently be high", then sure.

maybe he is trying to make up for lost time, but he is becoming increasingly maniacal. have you seen "harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban"? if so, then you'll know what i mean when i say my driver pulls a between-two-cars move that would make ol' ernie proud. following along on my iphone, i know we are getting tantalizingly close to our (i know it is mutual) goal of getting me to my destination. then, we come around a corner and, in the street we are supposed to go down - four flares are stuck into the street. i mean, they are STUCK into the ASPHALT and down the street you can see all these emergency vehicles, and there we are on the cusp of mowing down the flares and taking our chances, and at this point, i am completely caught up in the crazy and i am thinking - let's go, man, just tell 'em you didn't see the flares!

as i am dealing with the dual disappointment that we're now moving away from my destination and that i could possibly be crazier than crazy tram man... as my need for a snack is becoming full blown hunger... as i am despairing of this trip ever being over...

lady-no-pay in the backseat begins to hum.

post the thirty-fourth, 2013

all my bags are packed... well, almost. alls that's left are those things i have to use at the last minute - asthma meds, hair brush, stuff like that. i did manage to pack only a gym bag and a backpack, which means i can carry everything on the aeroplane. i prefer to have all my stuff with me at the car park, the airport, the baggage carousel (people keep on grabbing me wishing i was well). actually, i prefer to skip the baggage carousel altogether.

the trip is mon-tues-wed-thurs -- four days, three nights -- and it's business and i am staying in the hotel where the conference is taking place. so? so, the controlled environment controls the wardrobe - pluswise, there won't be a wide variety of activities so i don't need a wide variety of clothing. in order to decrease the overall mass of packed items, i spent a bit of time coordinating mixy-matchy pieces and learned that if i were more of a traveler, i'd have completely interchangeable clothing. someone should invent garanimals for grown-ups.

the recommendation for my 0730 flight is that i be at the airport at 0530. i did not select the 0730. my boss selected the 0730. funny, guy, my boss. haha.

post the thirty-third, 2013

we've been a bit tired this week. not that we've been particularly busy or particularly stressed. normal busy and normal stress and maybe a bit of a cold or something, but at any rate, we were in bed at 19.30 yesternight. in bed TO SLEEP, thank you. slept right through till precisely 06.47 (damn digital watches quantifying life in tiny increments). that's like 11 hours sleep.

woke up feeling sort of stuffy because firstly, slept 11 hours (bought the girl some flowers) and secondly, the humidifier went out a couple days ago. with natural gas heat, it's fairly dry around old household. ("natural gas" always makes me think of those commercials that run during UT sports - where the voice over woman sounds like she had a bellyful of natural gas.)

so. anyway. tired, dry, snuffly, etc. had some breakfast. time for running.

i set the garmin on the deck to catch a signal while i am putting on my shoes. mittens. hat. pick up the watch and strap it on while standing on the deck because i am going to start it as soon as i hit the driveway because the way i feel, every step needs to count today. in the drive, my first few steps are surprisingly easy. the legs feel good, which is helpful since they're going to have to lug around my sorry lungs today.

down the first hill doing somewhere around a 9:20 pace. muuuuch slower than last week, and that's fine. i am still paying the price for that indiscretion. at the cross street there are a few cyclists waiting for the light to change. i pass in front of them to get to my side of the intersection (cyclists with traffic, runners against) and they are all hey, hello, mornin'... they seem happy enough but lord it's a cold morning for cycling.

as soon as i cross, the light changes, and we all cross on our respective sides and zoom, off they go. me? i am trot, trot, trotting today, thankyouverymuch.

about two miles in the sidewalk passes fairly close to the hospital loading dock where the nurses take their breaks. sweet tobacco smoke wafts to the sidewalk. mmmm... cigarettes are my kryptonite. sure, it's been ages since i last partook, but still, a weakness is a weakness. i never know for certain that i'll turn them down until i do.

up to the corner, down to the next traffic signal. it's in my favor so on i go. i'm about 3 in by now and going up and i don't even feel it. i've been watching my pace, keeping it easy. it's sunny, cold, shadows of treeless branches patchwork the sidewalk. no one for company but my shoes.

before purchasing these ped-covers, i tried on dozens. what i am looking for is immediate -- as soon as i put on a pair, i know. i'll usually humour the salesfolk, walk around the shoes a bit, take them for a spin. but it's all for show because i know immediately if they will work. with this pair i am wearing today, i knew. still, i took them for a jog around the building as advised by the new balance sales staff. while i had them outside, i told them how much i liked them, and i asked them if they'd take the challenge to see me to lansing. they were shamefully enthusiastic. if they'd been puppies, they'd'a peed themselves. while i appreciated their enthusiasm, i had to know if they were up for the hard work ahead. they assured me they were ready and i could tell this was just the sort of adventure they'd been born for - that they'd been sitting in a box waiting for just such an opportunity. i did try on one more pair after -- just a different colour of the same style -- and trying to talk to them was like trying to get the attention of a bored teenage girl more worried about her nails and hair than anything i might have to say. clearly, the blue with neon green piping are the ones for me.

so here i am today, just me and my shoes, and they're being awfully quiet. i ask them what's up and they're like, nothing, and i am like, are you mad, and they're like, no. and the way they say it, i know it's true, but the bottom line is they don't feel like talking today. they're in a contemplative mood, so i leave them alone. there's a lot to think about when you're marathon shoes.

before i know it, i am in for 5 and still feeling good. when you live in a small town, 5 gets you clear across and i had thought to add a loop here and head back, but some quick calculations and i know that's not going to be enough.

i loop the town square and head down to where they're supposed to put in that new park. construction vehicles sitting there could be a sign that park construction is underway or could be a sign that the city is using the parkland as a parking lot. there's a little stub of a trail - .3 in, .3 back - that i've been down a few times. they're supposed to attach it to the greenway, but there's a creek. i don't know the status of the bridge. today the trail remains a stub.

i loop back to the square and still i am short on mileage so i head over to the city park that IS in existence. i am not a huge fan of this park, but it's got a 1 mile trail, and i don't think i need to traverse it more than once. the trail is peopled with grumps and grumps on phones and grumps walking dogs and grumps on phones walking dogs. what the hell is wrong with you people? you're outside! you're in a park! with a dog! on a phone! jeez.

one loop and back to the highway. not the freeway, not the interstate. the highway that becomes Third Avenue downtown. there's no sidewalk here, but the speed limit in this stretch is 35mph so there's a decent chance the cars won't plow me over. about 1/4 mile and i am at the cutthrough.

see, i had planned to go: home to highway to parkway to pike to highway to square and back. i added the two parks i've just described, and i am on the highway. i need to get to the pike, so i am adding the cutthrough which i thought would be about a mile but it's NOT. when i came down, the end of the pike was at 5 miles, so i know i need 9 at least. i don't have it yet, and i know i'd rather get it now than at the end, so i double back.

finally, i have 9, which means 5 left so i recall how great i felt at 5. do i feel that great now? not hardly. i don't feel terrible, but i am thirsty. i wonder about carrying water during the event, but that sloshing handheld drives me batty. obviously, if i am going to carry it, i need to practice. from here my mind wanders to shot blocks, sports beans, honey stingers, and inevitably how speedy could only stomach dried pineapple on long runs. damn.

fairly soon, i have 12. i still think i'll come up short on the overall 14-15 target, but i am out of mental stamina for the loops, so on i trudge. where the pike meets the parkway there are more runners, and the thought of someone overtaking me spurs me on.

at the parkway-highway intersection, where i'd seen the cyclists so very long ago, i have 13, and it's 1.5 here to home, so i'm golden. one long downhill to 14, charge halfway up the final hill to 14.5 and boom! done! walk about .25 then jog the final .25 or so for an overall total of 15 or so. nearly 2.5hrs total time, with not much here to show for it because the oddest thing about these long runs is how little time i spend thinking about anything at all.

post the thirty-second, 2013

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outside bigger inside smaller smaller inside big
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open each and find another open each and find
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bab-babushka doll

post the thirty-first, 2013

on the tivo, i have: rizzoli & isles, merlin, elementary, and once upon a time. it's only february, so some of the episodes were taped last year. wait... taped. HA! i said taped. i was fixing to backspace over it and put "recorded" but then i decided, that's pretty funny. TAPED.

some of the episodes that were taped before or during the Winter Holiday Season contain adverts applicable to that most advert-laden time of year. and... they're weird to see. eight weeks ago, seven weeks ago, they were all advertising the future. now (of course) they're advertising the past. they are such specific commercials that they stand out where a few weeks ago, they would have simply blended with the cacophonous hullabaloo.

seven weeks before year's end, the atmosphere is oppressive, spinning. everyone is in a heightened state, high pressure, high intensity. it's all gogogo and buybuybuy and there are parties and events and talking and eating all the time. it grows and grows until it explodes on new year's eve, and now here we are seven weeks into the new year and all that stuff seems like a lifetime ago.

the seven weeks on the heading-towards side are shorter than the seven weeks on the looking-back side.

post the thirtieth, 2013

i read someone's blog today. she's not a friend, not an acquaintance, i've never even met her... and yet she's not exactly a stranger. she knows people i know, or--at least--one people i know. did i stalk her? i didn't mean to stalk her. i saw her name in a twitter feed and decided to google her. why. no idea. oh, calm down--it's not like it's the first time i've ever done anything like that. oh, please--it's not like you haven't done it, too. google yourself, your high school sweetheart, your first crush, your kid's math teacher, celebrities, anonymities, friends, acquaintances, people you've met at work, at a party, on the internet. WE ALL DO IT. anyway, i was bored just for a second, so i googled her up, and oh look here is a blog, so i read it, and damn. she's a hot mess. depressed, needy, bolstering a thin facade of strength with vegetarian cooking and vague agnosticism. i read like five posts and found her oft repeated i'm-okays stank mightily of protesteth too much. she is decidedly NOT okay. pluswise, her disdain of other folks's judgyness was undisguisedly judgy. she kept condemning people for condemning people and i think the irony was lost on her. after reading those five or so posts, i felt like i HAD been stalking, snooping, reading her private papers, but it's a goddam blog for crissakes. not that justification is required -- but it's right out there in the internet for everyone to see. thing is, having read this stuff... i don't know... it's hard to explain, but her words left me feeling manipulated. alls i can figure is, she's trying to construct a persona... only... there's not enough in her words to know if she's trying to build it for someone else, or for herself.

post the twenty-ninth, 2013

i got up on time and didn't have any trouble getting out the door. i knew basically where i was going, but i can never remember the exit number, so i asked siri for help, which she politely provided. i dialed up pandora raw comedy channel and settled in for an uneventful drive.

uneventful... until i realized i'd gone too far. sometimes siri doesn't get all the details - like EXIT NUMBERS - correct. so, i asked her again and she managed to get me accurately turned around and on the right track. good thing i had like 10 mins to spare since i knew if i were late, the group would leave without me.

lah, lah, lah.

i am almost there when i round a corner and BOOM. SNOW. hey, whaaat? it wasn't snowing right there where i just was, but it is sure as hell snowing here. it was like driving into a car wash - that sudden - but of course there wasn't any soap or any of those flailing cloth strips, but still - like driving into a car wash.

i arrived at the destination, parked, donned hood and mittens and garmin, deboarded the car, entered the coffee-shop-starting-point, visited the restroom (demittened, remittened), and just like that i'm ready to go. found a couple of people i know, couldn't see coach anywhere, endured the welcome yak-yak, and took off with the crowd.

the pace felt too hot, but it always feels too hot at first, and we were going downhill, so i kept at it. the snow landing on my eyeballs was a bit uncomfortable. i was hoping the snow (and the pace) would slow up.

the first, like, mile and a half is downhill. then we climb a bridge to cross the river, take a short jag down again, then up up up and more up. when we get to 4 there's a water stop, but i keep on going. i don't like to stop because i might not start up again.

i've been keeping up with this girl whom i know because we have the same coach. she's friendly enough and all, but we've only met a few times, so it's not like we have a ton to talk about. pluswise, i get this vibe off her that it's okay to just jog along together and that's cool by me, too, so we do.

when we get to the second water stop, she stops and i don't and just like that i am on my own. the group is all spread out. i can see some ahead of me and know there are some behind me, but no one is right with me. the snow has let up but it's cold as hell and between the melted snow and the sweat (who sweats in the snow??) i am a touch damp. i have run this route before and for me, this is sort of a tough section of the course. if you look at it objectively, there's nothing about it that's all that hard. it's just... it's just tedious, i guess.

so i'm in the tedious section and i am on my own and cold. twice i hear an over-eager runner behind me and i slow down a touch so they will pass me. go ON. just go on around. jeez. the snow has stopped harassing us and i don't need YOU harassing me with your eagerness. i am really not happy here and just want to be done. (but, at halfway into this tedious stretch is where we hit half of the whole run so i am no where near done.)

my legs continue to cause my feet to move, and time continues to pass, and just like that we're back at the water stop. a couple of guys from the general group of folks who hang with coach are there, and i quickly swallow my pride, tell them i am lonely and can they slow a bit. i didn't think they heard me, but when we started up again either i was keeping up with them or they slowed, and either way, the result is the same, and i feel better.

actually... huh. actually, i feel really good. i overtake a couple people before we get back to the first water stop. now i am the annoying over-eager one.

we round the roundabout, pass the water stop, and tip down for the long, long downhill we had had to attack on the way up. i am really feeling strong here, and yes, it's downhill, but still, we are like 10 miles in at this point, so i will take it.

uphills become down, downhills up, as we reverse our course. with no ulterior motive which i can discern, the guys are fairly busy blowing sunshine up my ass, telling me i can run a sub-4 marathon and whatnot. they're in good company - coach says the same thing - but i don't know... i just can't accept it yet. somewhere in here, they claim our overall pace is around 8:30 and i am floored. i haven't been looking at my watch (on purpose), but this is just too much.

i am mulling all these things as we cross under the freeway bridge. the final 1.5 or so - such an inspiring downhill to start - is oppressive. i am back to totally wanting to be done and i can feel myself trudging, slowing, focusing too much on breathing which is becoming too labored when out of the blue, one of the guys starts asking my opinion on ken follett's "pillars of the earth" and various other ken follett books because he read in my blog that i like ken follett, especially POTE, and while i would happily discuss POTE anytime, this guy is really not that much of a talker. while i am sure he's a reader and a follett fan, and who wouldn't love POTE, i suspect he's less interested in follett at this very moment and more in trying to distract me through the final mile. at least, that's my take and it makes me smile inside and i pick it up a bit, and even pick it up enough to have a semblance of kick towards the end.

what is there to say about a run like this, a run where my eyebrows are frosted, a run where i can't feel my hands at the end, a run where i pushed myself and my self said "roger that". all there is to say is... WHAT NOW, BITCHES.

post the twenty-eighth, 2013

time is a funny thing.

the evening of 30 january, three days ago, i stood in front of a scanner at a local fed-ex kinkos and fed a couple hundred photos through the machine. i got it down to a science and could touch the onscreen buttons before the annoyingly cloying automated voice chimed in with the. same. instructions. every. time. c'mon, lady - i got it already! point being - the activity consumed two hours. that's 100 photos per hour, 1.67 per minute, .75 per second. quite a few pictures and a recognisable chunk of time. was it tedious? a bit. did the time drag? no, not really. the pure busyness of the task overwhelmed my capacity to register the passage of time.

for the course of two hours one night, i was able to pleasantly pass the time in mindless monotony. well, actually, it wasn't mindless. not exactly. there was an element of focus required to keep things moving along. it just didn't require imagination, creativity, problem solving skills, or even a comprehension of language, really. i mean, ol' nasty voice was instructing me over and over again, but the instructions were superfluous.

and, yeah, it was pleasant enough. i didn't need to be anywhere else. my feet didn't hurt nor did my head, stomach, or any other part of me. i wasn't too hot or too cold. i was a tidge thirsty, but not terribly so. same with hungry. i mean, don't get me wrong. pleasant should not be confused with fun or entertaining. in this case, pleasantness was merely the absence of unpleasantness.

i don't think i would want to do that sort of activity all the time. it would be boring. the repetitive motion would no doubt become painful. to think i spent two hours doing that -- two hours that could have been spent... what... writing to you, i suppose. is that any more useful, writing to you? now, that's a tough question. writing has a connotation of usefulness in a way that scanning 200 pictures does not, but the two hours of picture scanning were a means to an end. i don't think such a compliment could be paid to this blah-g.