PENSIVE PUMPKIN

Smelt Run 2012

2012-02-25T16:05:00.000-08:00

I woke up the morning of my first 5k, full of admiration for morning runners. When I was The Worst Stock Jockey in the World ™ I got up at 4:30 for work. Race morning, I dragged my lazy ass out of bed much later than that. Out from the warmth to go run in the cold. I salute you, morning runners. You are much better people than I.

While I sat up long enough for the allergy haze to drift out of my brain, I thought about Thanksgiving. Odd, I know. But I wanted to run a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving and chickened out. I convinced myself that I needed to stay home and watch bread rise. Yes. I've come a long way, baby. Or I've just learned to pay in advance and tell Hubby, The Second Cheapest Man on Earth ™ that I'm paid up. Either way, I wasn't getting out of this one.

I loved these ads so much as a child that I wanted to smoke.

This one came out when I was four. My Mother,

God bless her, had to teach me about advertising.

I went around teaching other people about

"The people who want you to do things."

The commercials became my favorite part of TV.

This 5k is an annual fundraiser for a community symphony, specifically for their youth program. Smelt are fish, if you're wondering, and the local Rotary has a fishing contest on the same day- hence the race name. The concerts paid for by this race are the only introduction most kids in the area have to symphonic music. I'm a big believer in this sort of early exposure for the same reasons I'm a big believer in learning a second or third language in childhood- your brain is primed to receive it and later it won't have the same impact. I've done fundraising for this symphony before, even organizing events. I know a lot of the people on their board, though my boring board work was elsewhere. If my name is on the prepaid list and I don't show up, someone will call and ask why. I chose this race because I knew someone other than my inner critic would shame me if I chickened out again.

He's clearly happy to be there.

In the 1980's, where I'm not the only one in a visor and a pouf.

Yes, that is eyeliner.

No makeup today, so no makeup line. ; )

Dragging Hubby along for support, we showed up an hour early. Yeah. An hour. For a 5k. At least we got to hang out in the school gym while we waited. In my defense, I was nervous and needed the time to get my head on straight. For example, there was no packet pickup until an hour and a half pre-race, and I wanted time to figure out the whole "pinning of the bib" situation.

Photo taken to determine

relative crookedness of number.

This seemed like a great idea. Of course, I was nervous. Fortunately for me, I made friends with a racing veteran while in the line for the girls bathroom that had ONE STALL so the line was ~~kind of~~ long. I suggested we just pee in the showers since there were three of them. No one else found this a viable solution. Amateurs. My new friend was pinning her race bib onto her leg. Hmmm- that looks much more comfortable! She also told me to crumple up my bib so it wouldn't make those annoying swooshing noises, but to be careful with other race bibs because sometimes the timing chip is in there and you can screw it up. Nice information! Also, glad I moved my bib to my leg because I WAS GOING TO WEAR THAT JACKET ZIPPED UP. Apparently over my bib. So no one would know I was racing. Cheese and rice.

I was chatting with Hubby's legal assistant who was racing the 10k that started at the same time, when we noticed that the gym was considerably less full of people. Ummm- because the race starts in 8 minutes? Oops. Racing fail on that one. We booked it out to the starting area and I got really confused: Which part is 5k? What pace are you running? Am I wearing underpants? It was pandelerium. (Bonus points if you get that one.)

Moving my way back through the crowd I just sized people up trying to find my spot, near the back but not IN the back. When I found a chubby girl who looked absolutely terrified and had her music up so loud with Eye of the Tiger type stuff that the Lord's trumpet could not have gotten through to her, I asked her what pace she planned to run.

Zero Hedge uses this all the time when the markets

~~start paying attention~~ go apeshit. Love it.

Alrighty then. This is probably my spot. It suddenly occurs to me to turn on my music because I won't want to after we start. This is an important point that factors in later. Looking around, I notice the lady behind me getting instruction from her husband on how to work her Garmin. Something about satellites. Oh, shit! Good idea! Turn on GPS, find satellites, whew. Another newbie disaster averted. I've read a lot of first race reports, but none that pointed this out. Duh.

At this very moment, as I smile at the lady whose new Garmin just saved my ass: the sleeting starts. We both just crack the fuck up. She said, "That does not feel good on the face." I responded, "That's why I wear the visor!" I did not point out my also stylish legwarmers. They had pitchforks on them. I wanted to wear a costume, but it was my first race. My legwarmers were the most costume-y thing there.

Then we were off! Yea! Running in the sleeeeeet! *with apologies to Adele*

The race itself was boring. Kind of racy. Heh. My C goal was, as always: Don't Die. Mission Accomplished. My B goal was: Finish, but not DFL. Mission Accomplished. Missed the A goal, of course, but it involved getting a call in the middle of the night saying "No, really- you're actually Kenyan!" So I figured that was out. It's good to have a "reach" goal sometimes. I just didn't reach it today.

I spent most of the race going back and forth with several groups of people. A few people who were newbies like me, a few people who clearly could have been faster if not pushing and/or running with little kids. When I was a kid, I didn't know people ran for fun. These kids have an entirely different life than I did. There was one cute girl that absolutely WOULD NOT LET ME PASS HER. It was hysterical. Her mom and I were playing games with it. I'd hold off while she caught her breath, then come up on her. When I got close- zoom! At one point after about 2.5 miles, she was getting tired and didn't hear me coming. So leaned down and said, right behind her, "I'm gonna catch you!" Her mom almost fell down, she was laughing so hard. That girl took off, then turned around and stuck her tongue out at me. It was fun. Mom gave me a high five after I crossed the finish line, right behind them.

It was fun alright, except for the sleet, and the cold that made my feet completely numb because I am one of those girls who has cold feet and will put them on you if you are warm, and the wind that made it much easier to breathe in than out, at least when we were running South. Which was most of the last half of the race. And breathing out? That appears to be kind of important. But if I'd tried not to breathe in? Now THAT would have been difficult. Wind. Not my friend.

The race was an out an back, and on the way back I waved at every volunteer (picture jazz hands, I was overenthusiastic about it) and said thanks. They looked at me like I was nuts, but I totally meant it. I was having a great time.

Coming down the stretch was amazing. I'd made a 5k playlist and knew based on what song was starting what sort of time I was looking at, even though I had the volume low enough to converse with people all the way. I did not, however, take that starting line time into account. I shall do so in the future. Because when my playlist started over I freaked out. I thought my time was like 10 minutes slower than I'd anticipated. And I ran my ass all the way to that finish line. It was my strongest pace of the race. Think a 9:00 pace and 172 beats a minute. Never in my life has a line of orange cones seemed so bloody long. And after I crossed, I totally forgot to hit the stop button. Yeah. I was having fun, and didn't even remember that I'd wonder about my time until after I hugged my cheering Hubby. Who said that as he stood there waiting, the sleet actually turned to snow for a few minutes before changing back to rain. Weird Pacific Northwest weather.

I didn't take the time to look at my Garmin much during the race, but when I got home and did, I was REALLY PROUD. My time was awful, of course. But I'd decided in advance to make it awful. I wanted to race this near the pace I'm hoping for in my Half Marathon, and ignore 5k Race Pace. Get myself used to the idea. That was hard. I knew I could go faster for this short distance, but I kept myself where I felt like I needed to be. My goal pace for the entire race was 13:30 a mile. I know. Slow as Christmas. My actual average pace when I got home and looked at all the lovely nerdy numbers on Garmin Connect? 13:28 a mile. I AM GETTING BETTER AT PACING!!!!! THANK THE TALKING WALNUT!!!!!! My splits were even the way I wanted, with my second mile the slowest and the last tenth of a mile the fastest. I may be slow, but I'm consistent. Given the fact that adrenaline is NOT my friend in the very least, I am soooo proud of that.

I know this was long. I'm leaving out about a thousand really good stories, including the Men's 70-79 10k age group winner who clocked like 48 minutes, wearing jeans. And the fact that my favorite grocery store sponsored the race so I got bowls of my favorite tomato basil soup at the finish line. Lots of great stories. But I'm tired.

I should be tired.

I don't know if you were aware: but I just ran my first race. ; )

Calm and Focused. For Now.

2012-02-24T15:28:00.000-08:00

Mid-Afternoon on Friday, I fell calm.

I don't mean I had some sort of epiphany and calmed down, or that I remembered this is just for fun and who cares how it turns out, anyway. I mean I fell calm. Focused. Centered. Like I'd never been nervous to begin with.

It reminded me of a similar situation: the bar exam.

All states are different unless they use the Multi-State test. That one is multiple choice. Bah. Our bar exam is two and a half days, the first two are substantive law and the half is ethics. You must pass both. Perfectly ethical people fail because they either don't give ethics the attention it deserves or they simply wear themselves out before they get there. This is easy to do, since the whole damned thing is in essay form. You get a hypothetical situation and 45 minutes (I think, it's been a decade since I took it) to issue spot every single legal noose to hang yourself with in the hypo and write out a coherent response to the questions at the end. When I took it, this was in longhand and you needed to train your wrist to not take leave of your body. Now it is on computers.

This is made even more stressful by the simple fact that you are not told what the subject matter is. After every question you leave the testing room and people talk in the hall. If your friend answered the same question with Constitutional Law that you answered with Administrative Law? One of you failed that question. Maybe even both of you did. Because the test is pass/fail, you never even really know how much is "enough." The stench of fear permeates that building, and I refuse to attend anything there ever again.

Most people freak out about the bar. In law school, they don't teach you what you need to know for the bar exam. Which is helpful, since they somehow managed to take your money. Every summer thousands of law school graduates across the country take an extra class, an intense class, to learn the exam. Most people spend hours a day reading or in the library, working themselves into a tizzy. They really freak out.

I spent that summer with my boyfriend. At the park. Sometimes we even opened our books. Our class was at night, so every afternoon was a race to complete the material necessary. We did the bare freaking minimum, and had a lot of picnics. We both passed. Then we got married. Awww. Our friends still tell horror stories about that summer, and in our memories it is idyllic. We did pretty much nothing. All the damn time.

Another similar situation: the Series 7 Securities exam. This was the same "oooh- it's so hard!" situation, the same take a class to take a test thing. But this time, I was getting paid to study. Which was nice. Other people were shitting bricks, and I never got nervous for that one either. Calm. Focused. I had a terrible commute, so I would listen to that sort of grim determination music on my way to the office, since studying from home was frowned upon. They were, after all, paying me. And they had no way to know if I was studying.

I wasn't. I actually spent a lot of time on Pumpkinrot's site because it was close to Halloween. I had the study stuff open in another window. Bleh. No big deal. I've freaking got this. And I did.

This running thing? Entirely new realm. I know how my brain works. It works well. It tests well, even when I don't know why. So I am calm. Focused. Ready. Running? I've been told my whole life I can't do that, no wonder it makes me a ball of nerves.

Until it doesn't. And in that moment, I find that it is exactly the same.

It is a voice inside my head telling me that I can't.

And it is another voice, from deeper inside, telling that one to fuck off. That is the voice named Calm. That is the voice named Focused. That is the voice I'm choosing to listen to right now.

Crazy Shit in My Head on the Eve of My First Race

2012-02-24T09:53:00.000-08:00

I am exceedingly nervous about my race tomorrow.

Dissection of the Human Nervous System.

What a way to bring my blog topics together!

I want to make a prop of this, and tell people

"Don't mind him, he's nervous."

I'd be happier if it were an execution or something. My training this week was, um BAD. I've ditched runs because of uncomfortable new gear, people who spent so much time talking to me about my Five Fingers that they used up my available running time, and some other reasons that I forgot. They were bad at the time. No completed long run, so I am freaked out about that. Oh yeah, and one day I went out at a 7:30 something pace, while wearing my Garmin. I'll be glad when I figure out how to make those "slow down" beeps work. I'm a technological idiot, me thinks. The silver lining, of course, is fresh legs!

The conditions will not be ideal. Last year for this race, it snowed. Snow here is a big deal as we are oh, a few blocks from salt water. I walk by the marina with my mother, so water effected by tide isn't even a long run away. Most storm systems blow over us leaving nothing but rain in their wake. That, my friends, is exactly what is expected tomorrow.

Our area is so oversaturated already that there are lakes where there were none before. Granted, they are pretty shallow. Houses are falling off their clifftop perches. More rain isn't a pleasant idea. We've got a 40% chance during the race, but here that means it's gonna rain at least 40% of the time. In addition, the weather forecast ON THE EVENT WEBSITE, because they are serious and want people to prepare, calls for gusts of 30MPH. Am I excited? Boy, am I enthusiastic. I am feeling F-U-K-D.

Between that and the crazy guy I'm watching out for and the baby shower that I am diligently making goodies for, I am not in a pleasant mood. Yeah. A freaking baby shower. I'll make bread, but I am not going. For all the Mommy types who read this blog, and I know there are several, please don't hate me. But you should also not be offended when non-Mommy types refuse to attend these sufferfests. They aren't pure torture for me anymore, as we dropped out of fertility treatment years ago and finally came to our senses that having kids really would not have made us happy anyway. So we went from Not Ready for Children to Childless to Childfree as an evolutionary process. We're happy now. But when I was shot up with drugs or (on one occasion that stands out because it was brutal, but that became a theme) pregnant and knew it wouldn't last based on hormone numbers? Listening to you and your fertile friends oooh and ah over baby shit was enough to make me sacrifice a goat. And I love goats.

Gratuitous goat photo from Urban Goatherder.

Because I love these goats and they make me happy.

I want! And I promise not to sacrifice them!

But at least I buy presents and send them along with goodies, so the Mommy to Be doesn't hate me. When she comes out of her hormone induced haze, she'll suddenly go "oh!" but right now she's totally buying the "I'm too busy, sorry!" excuse when clearly I'm taking the morning off to make bread and delivering it to the freaking shower, so I could come in and coo with the rest of the lunatics if I chose to do so. I do not. The presents? I have no regard for the ultra sophisticated tastes of the mother. I shall goth up her child, and she shall be grateful.

Rockabye Baby is one of those inventions that makes me grin from ear to ear. It's actually well done lullaby music with the normal baby-like instrumentation, but of harder music that pleases the sensibilities of older folk. I prefer Baby Tool because there are all sorts of minor thirds and crazy syncopation, so you've got to be forming an interesting ear in the young one. For those who don't know, Tool is really like nerdy math rock with thoughtful lyrics and difficult rhythms and crazy jumps between notes that make you think about them before singing along. It's like heaven. And this version makes it easy to sing along putting baby to sleep while saying things like:

I don't want to be hostile.
I don't want to be dismal.
But I don't want to rot in an apathetic existance either.
See
I want to believe you,
and I want to trust
and I want to have faith to put away the dagger.

But you lie, cheat, and steal.
And yet
I tolerate you.
Veil of virtue hung to hide your method
while I smile and laugh and dance
and sing your praise and glory.
Shroud of virtue hung to mask your stigma
as I smile and laugh and dance
and sing your glory
while you
lie, cheat, and steal.
How can I tolerate you.

Might as well teach them early, right? Also included in the lovely pretty box is Rockabye Baby Led Zeppelin. Because yeah, Stairway to Heaven is something every baby needs to understand.

Just to round out the Misanthropic Trifecta, there's this well known gem:

Samuel L Jackson does the audio version.

Which is awesome.

Everyone else is talking about Goodnight Moon. They're silly.

I'm obviously trying to distract myself, here. Other attempts have involved planning my entire Halloween party in the middle of the night when I had freaking insomnia because of race nerves. So I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

I have to stop typing and throw up now. Sooooo glad I signed up for this ish.

More Reasons For You To Be Jealous Of Me

2012-02-22T16:18:00.000-08:00

I'm fast.

*laughing hysterically at this blatantly absurd lie*

Okay, I'm still slow as Christmas. Even if I only take a walk break once a mile now. And I have a lovely blood blister on the bottom of my big toe, just in time for my first race this weekend. Because God hates me. I've known this for decades, yet it surprises me every time.

But there is another reason for you to be jealous. Lulu sent me a present! Yea! I like presents, I like jewelry, and I like Lulu- so this is a WIN WIN WIN for me. You? You get a picture. Heh. Plus she's having a sale in her Etsy shop right now, so it's like a present for you too.

I can only assume that she felt bad for me because some psycho wants to kill my Hubby and I don't even get to see my boyfriend on his birthday. Which are both really sad things. I keep hoping my boyfriend will just call and say "If I have sex with you will it shut you up?" Um- for a little while. I do need sleep. But I digress. Again.

(Also, I was in a bookstore this morning and they had a TERRIBLE sexuality section with just Sex Coupons and How To guides and Penthouse Letters compilations, so when I saw something called like "The Philosophy of Harry Potter" in the section next door, which seemed blatantly stupid and riding on coattails of someone who actually had an idea, I moved it into the sexuality section. Because I am a perv. If I had found such a thing when I worked at a bookstore, I would have left it. So there.)

Anywho- back to my PRESENT!!! Enough suspense for you? Not intentional at all. *fingers crossed behind back*

It occurs to me that you Runner people might not know Lulu, but she's wonderful. She's my twin sister, and it's really too bad that we had our Parent Trap thing and didn't get to meet until I was freaking 36 years old. But we are Hayley Mills girls, and not La Lohan. No. Not that. Ahem.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Jewelry orgasm! Look at the skulls on the key!!! She specified that this was to wear with my new skull peplum jacket:

So I was FORCED to wear said jacket to my meetings today. Oh, yeah. I will make you cry about your impending divorce, and I will wear skulls while doing it. Don't hire me if you don't want reality. I can take it. Actually, making people cry is a big part of my job because I need them to understand the importance of what they are doing, and the hormones that get released when you cry implant that on your brain. Plus I am sadistic. Okay, that's not true. I feel guilty about it every single time. But if you don't cry, I probably won't take your case. You don't care enough to be worth my time. Men? Much more likely to cry. So most of my clients are male.

This is the necklace on the workout gear I happened to be wearing when I ~~tore into the package with my teeth~~ cut open the package with scissors just like the lady my mother always wanted me to be.

Isn't it fab? I love it so much. The mix of metals totally appeals to me. Also, this is a weird thing to say, but: the girl does AMAZING work. I have a lot of jewelry. It's kind of been my "thing" for a long time. I keep it in a Craftsman tool chest. Not exaggerating. It looks like this:

If you are a jewelry girl, just go for it. Those shallow little drawers can be put to better use than wrenches and whatnot, and I lined mine with navy velvet so it feels all luxurious inside. And the work on this necklace is better than the rest of the stuff in here. You know how when jewelry wire gets crimped, it either gets bent out of shape or the color coating comes partly off so you can see what is underneath? Nada. Every circle is a real circle, and nothing is scratched. She must take soooooo much time with each piece, and handle them with kid gloves. I feel sorry for this necklace having to live with me, because I am rough with jewelry. I wear it hiking for the love of Meatloaf! But this is pristine.

Amazing. Really. Thank you so much, Lulu. You rock. I'd share my boyfriend with you, if you weren't so into your freaking Commander. Newlyweds. Ugh.

And, because you are all so awesome, a couple of kissy faced shots with my new necklace and my jacket, on my way to my meeting. I wish the people I knew in real life loved me as much as y'all do. YOU would have told me my gothic ass is too pale for this tinted moisturizer. Whatevs. I'll just start mixing it with my Super Extra Gothy Strength Sunscreen, SPF 60. Behold the pale pumpkin.

Kinda love this overexposed one.

Couldn't take too many. I was driving.

Which is not to be condoned.

This kissy face is for you, Lulu.

Thanks.

Shut up about my makeup line.

Happy Birthday, Alan Rickman

2012-02-21T00:01:00.000-08:00

"Oh, God. She's not talking about me again is she?

And using that still she saved just for my hands!?!

Doesn't she know I already have

a short, curvy brunette who's into politics and economics?

Can she not take a hint?"

Uncyclopedia is a satirical take on Wikipedia, and this is their version of the "redirect" and "citation error" that shows up at the top of Wiki entry pages, specifically the one for my Imaginary Boyfriend:

Whoops! Maybe you were looking for Genius?
This article or section may be Overly British. Americans may not understand humour, only humor. Canadians and Australians may not understand anything at all. Don't change a thing to remedy this.

My favorite parts of the page read:

Alan Rickman has probably already used his 'oh-so-silky' voice to seduce your mother, grandmother, sister, and female pets. On the slim chance you have a girlfriend, he's probably had her too. Repeatedly. Even 69. She wouldn't do it for you, but for Alan Rickman...

...

Yet despite this near-godly public image that Rickman now held, he fell into his most debauched period to date. Accompanied by his cronies, Lawrence Olivier, Art Garfunkel and Tracey Emmin, (sic) he proceeded to eclipse even Stephen Fry's wild lifestyle. Tabloid speculation never ended; for every excellent fencing performance, restaurant review or acting performance he gave, he matched it with a tail (sic) of midget-baiting or drug use.

And the absolutely hysterical:

J.K Rowling (Author of the Harry Potter books) deliberately enlarged Snape's role in the series when she realized how good Alan Rickman was at the part, adding several lines like "I think J.K Rowling is hot" and "I'm sorry, I'm just so in love with J.K Rowling"

Okay, that one might be true. There is also talk of an orgy with a circus troupe. In other news, I am joining the circus on the off chance this is not satire. And this may be my new favorite web site. Oh, the funny hurts.

I'd love to give you some gratuitous photos of the sexy beast, but I'm conflicted. Do I steal a professional photographer's work without credit, since I am an idiot and never remember to save that stuff? I always feel a little bit icky about that for obvious reasons, though I freely admit to having taken this option before. Do I use a paparazzi candid shot? Absolutely not. I believe firmly that a person should get to choose what they share with the world, as evidenced by my steadfast refusal to become my own paparazzo and show you cute kissy faced self portraits. Though they totally exist, for the record.

There's enough weird karma around here today because today is actually the day that the Registered Sex Offender who has been worrying me is getting out of prison. Yeah. I know. That's bizarre timing. I don't want to make it worse by making either choice. So, for once, I'll use images that are actually in character, which you'd think would please a studio head somewhere. Though the character of the actor is what interests me, and not the character he happens to be playing.

This is an old publicity photo, and I need an update.

I've got high hopes for you, Gambit.

High apple pie in the sky hopes.

This photo came in an email from Shadow Manor.

Now you know why I worship her.

That hair is totally bringing sexy back.

This still cracks my shit up.

Liberals never look comfortable in a suit.

Never. Even when it's their job to wear a character

who could wear the suit, they get all rumply.

Said the Goth grown older.

So Happy Birthday, Imaginary Boyfriend. Thanks for existing, for making this crappy day a bit brighter, and for being cool enough that Hubby doesn't mind sharing me with you.

W7: I Ain't No Damsel In Distress

2012-02-19T07:00:00.000-08:00

Lyric from Not a Pretty Girl by Ani DiFranco

First, I love that after every long run some random part of my legs actually looks different. This week, the backs of my knees are transformed. Such a weird hobby, running. I think I may be hooked.

I would like to give an award this week.

American Gothic LULZ

from Freaking News.

This American Gothic Award (which I just made up because I realized that it totally describes my life, duh) goes out to (drumroll, please...)

Skinny teenager on the treadmill next to me Saturday! Yea!

No, really. It was awesome. I was running along, paying no attention to her. I'm in my thirties, she's in her teens, we naturally ignore each other. No big deal. For some reason, I decide to abandon my plan, and just see how far I can run without a walk break. I know, I should have done this recently. It had not occurred to me. I just sort of take a break when my heart rate gets to 160 or *cough* when my chest hurts or whatever, I don't know. I just kind of go with it. I'm easy like Sunday Morning. Distance, not speed. Blah, blah, blah.

But oh, no. Not Saturday. Saturday my ass decides to get all ambitious and shit. Saturday I wonder if I really need to take walk breaks, or if I just want to. It's my first time on the treadmill with Hubby around in recent memory, and I only like to push myself when he's nearby because

He loves me. I know. Hard to believe. He should have divorced me long ago, and the letter of recommendation to wife number three is in my bedside table. But for some reason, he loves me.
He is a smart boy. Now, I don't mean to brag or anything: but his college mascot is a color. (I got my degrees out of a cracker jack box. This is not about me.) You don't go to a school with a color for a mascot unless you are ~~a legacy~~ a smart boy.
He knows his shit. When we met, he probably knew that humans had hearts. Now he knows all about electrophysiology. It's sexy. Mmmmm brainz!
I trust him with my life, and not random strangers. I know, I need to branch out more. Oh wellers.

So since he was on the elliptical in front of me, and I was running my little heart out trying to catch his fine ass, and he was watching me in the mirror not huff and puff like I used to and seemed kind of impressed, and oh yeah- Michigan was playing basketball on the telly and he hates Michigan, so not a lot to compete with his attention: I kept running.

I know it's dumb, but I've been taking about twice as many walk breaks as necessary. At least. Because when I took my first break, I didn't really need it. It was just a nice round number and I could have kept going.

Why does the girl get an award and not me? Because when I took that walk break, just out of sheer shock and not sheer exhaustion or because my heart was coming out of my chest or some shit? When I slowed down, she stopped.

That bitch was racing me! I was her pacer!

That little teeny bopper used me as her "I have to stay on the treadmill and I can run longer than this old woman" pacer. Oh, yeah. And guess what? I could have out lasted her. I kept going afterward. She walked away. We got on around the same time. Because, let's repeat ourselves here, I only stopped because I was surprised and wondered what my heart rate was and if I would feel like I was dying and if it would take forever for my rate to recover. The verdict?

The difference between my heart rate when I stop for a walk break at a half mile (which is my normal one) or a full mile? FIVE BEATS PER MINUTE. Nothing. A drop in the freaking bucket. And I didn't even get dizzy. At 168. When I formerly got dizzy at 133. (Stress tests can be pretty specific, y'all.) And recovery was a cinch.

Which is full of all sorts of rainbow unicorn radness. I am stoked.

So, skinny teenybopper? You rock. Have a goth on me. (That's what she said.)

Oh, yeah. And not being eaten by an Eagle? That kind of rocked too.

Nice week. I'll take a few more of these, please.

I am not a pretty girl
That is not what I do
I ain't no damsel in distress
And I don't need to be rescued
So put me down punk
Maybe you'd prefer a maiden fair
Isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

I am not an angry girl
But it seems like I've got everyone fooled
Every time I say something they find hard to hear
They chalk it up to my anger
And never to their own fear
And imagine you're a girl
Just trying to finally come clean
Knowing full well they'd prefer you
Were dirty and smiling

And I am sorry
I am not a maiden fair
And I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

And generally my generation
Wouldn't be caught dead working for the man
And generally I agree with them
Trouble is you gotta have youself an alternate plan
And I have earned my disillusionment
I have been working all of my life
And I am a patriot
I have been fighting the good fight
And what if there are no damsels in distress
What if I knew that and I called your bluff?
Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
Whether or not you ever show up

I am not a pretty girl
I don't really want to be a pretty girl
I want to be more than a pretty girl

Running Blog Database

2012-02-17T09:45:00.000-08:00

Do you have too much time on your hands? Are you looking for more awesome running blogs to read? Do you have what it takes to burn the midnight oil, with your flashlight, under the covers, reading more and more about running because (let's face it) you cannot run all day every day because you aren't this guy?

Photo of Anton Krupicka stolen from SUAR,

because she has to share.

Notice it was the first photo in the post.

To get your attention.

2 Slow 4 Boston had the same problem! You see, he was lying awake at night searching around the internet for stories about pooping on the side of a road or trail, and decided that THIS WAS TOO DIFFICULT! THERE MUST BE AN EASIER WAY!!

Okay, so maybe he just wants an easy way to search for Bloggers in a specific geographic area. Or running a specific race. Or at a vacation destination. Whatever. It's my blog, and I can tell this story however I please.

This seems like it is going to be way 12 kinds of rad and awesome. It makes me talk like a junior high school skater kid. Which is nice. I get tired of talking about Writs of Habeas Corpus and Tables of Consanguinity all day. I'd much rather discuss the merits of Vision Street Wear versus G&S. Much. I have not lost my muchness.

The linky link to the database is in my sidebar, so go have a look around. If you don't find your own blog (and he's got like 500 already, which is AMAZING) then you can add it. Blogger imports profile photos, but you can upload your own if you wish. I'm considering the pumpkin photo, because I view it as a better representation of myself than an actual photo of myself. Which might mean I need more therapy.

Go! Check it out. We'll leave the light on for you.

I really love this shit. : ) mainly because I survived

2012-02-16T15:53:00.000-08:00

At this point my training plan has devolved to "run three times a week or so, for a few miles... whatever works. and once a week in addition to that, run one mile further than your long run the week before. keep doing that, and um... once a month take a slacker week. but you only get one a month, so choose wisely." Yeah. With that kind of study plan, it's a wonder I made it through law school. What can I say? I test well!

So today said Cross Training. Of course, this means I went out for my long run. What? That's crazy talk? What do you know, people who've done this before? *sticks tongue out*

When I hit about 1.5 to 2 miles I hate running. This happens to me when walking, hiking, skating, shopping, and probably when doing a three legged race. It just is. Today was an out and back, so at this point I was considering turning around and calling it a 5k day. I did run the first mile at 5k pace, so this made some semblance of sense. (More alliteration. Lazy assed writing, that is.) Also, there was this guy:

I don't normally make photos this large, but this is a crappy iPhone photo and I want to make sure you can see the FREAKING GIANT BALD EAGLE SITTING RIGHT BESIDE THE PATH AND LOOKING AT ME LIKE I AM DELICIOUS. For those who don't know, Bald Eagles are totally willing to stuff themselves with goose to the point where they can no longer fly until said goose is digested. So he really might want to eat me.

I already wanted to turn around. It's coldish. It's rainyish. My ass hurts. Okay, my gluteus medius hurts. Is that better? I'm whiny because I should really be heading to yoga soon and waaaah! Now I'm going to be eaten by this eagle.

The eagle gives me (there is really no other way to describe this) a magnanimous nod, and then flies away. He landed in the field to the right (that's the Pacific on the left. jealous much?) and sat and watched me run by. I finished my long run, and not only am I considering still going to yoga since I just have time for some chocolate milk and a nice cold bath (argh) but I'm also thinking I now have time to fit in a practice of the 5k course on Saturday.

I love this shit. I really love this shit. sigh.

Hate

2012-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

I hate the new Captchas. There. I said it.

Because I am apparently a robot, and those things are HARD.

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!

Terror. And Not In a Good Way.

2012-02-15T14:04:00.000-08:00

I am more than a little terrified about my 5k later this month. More than a little. Maybe even a lot.

Sweet little Regan just needs some love.

No terror.

This shit just makes me laugh. Especially when I think about

how Westley would react to this thing. "As you wish."

These people scare the Holy Living Hell out of me.

And not just because they're about to run over the

photographer, who must have been brave.

I've never really been what you would call acceptable to other human beings. Shocking, I know, to find someone like that on the internet. I can pull it together fairly well for short periods of time to do things like get through sorority rush, but eventually my very unwavering "me-ness" starts grating people's nerves and they refuse to talk to me. Which is awkward when 73 of you live in a house together. So I go on Paxil because clearly I am the problem here, and I end up in therapy AGAIN and then I move out and then I transfer schools because really- the Heathers cannot be escaped that easily. Sigh. Such is my life.

The similarities between my real life and Winona's

screen lives abound. I'm sure I'm not alone here.

I've been hated on by the Goths for wearing orange and not wearing makeup (except eyeliner- duh.) I've been hated on by the preppy freaks because I wear too much black. I don't like drugs, I do like books, and I talk incessantly about politics and economics and (now) running. In my life experience, these things do not ingratiate one with other humans. These things cause one to become alone. And when one does not enjoy being alone, one becomes lonely, and looks for other groups to join. Which then reject you as well for some equally lame reason.

What I'm getting at here is that while I am no longer a joiner, it was not by choice. I liked people once upon a time. I was not always misanthropic. But I got used to it. I got used to the aloneness and living inside my own head, and I came to like it. Stockholm Syndrome, I guess. Now? Being around large groups of people makes me very, very nervous. I expect them to start throwing rocks at me. Being around a large group of people who value speed when I have none? Well, that is making me rethink this whole damned thing.

(I also have a fever. Which makes things worse. If someone finds my immune system, will they send it back home? I need it. Trying to decide if one runs with a fever. Hmmmm... I think this one will.)

I only signed up for this stupid 5k to get over my nerves about the mechanics of a race. Slow is my speed, so long must be my distance if I plan to do this. A 5k will never be the right length of race for me. I really don't mind the fact that the difference between a good day and a bad day while running equates to minutes per mile. Whatever. It's the economy, stupid. Or, in this case: the distance. Just. Keep. Going.

But this is a fast, flat sort of race. The sort where normal people PR. People, that is, who don't excel at hilly courses and not flat ones. People unlike me. So here I am again, expecting Donald Sutherland to show up.

Best. Illustrative. Photo. Evah.

I'll sign up for Half Marathons all day long. I'll sign up for ones with cut off times that challenge me. No problem. But this 5k thing is for the birds. When I get these two under my belt, I may be out of that business for good. Except the virtual ones. Love those. Then I can just race myself. Much better that way.

Because I am always faster than I was.

I Am a Sucker

2012-02-15T12:10:00.000-08:00

I am a sucker.

For a Discount Code.

Seattle Half Marathon. November 25th. Registered.

Someone please hide my credit card. I'm considering freezing it in a block of ice.

Must. Stop. This. Registration. Nonsense.

In other news, I really like running. Have I told you that? Huh?

Cheese and Rice.

Vampire's Day 2012

2012-02-13T22:44:00.000-08:00

THE FOLLOWING IS A PURELY FICTIONAL

EDITORIAL ADVERTISEMENT

FROM:

Tillinghast Manor

Garden of Evil Delights and Herbal Apothecary

PLEASE VISIT AGAIN IN OCTOBER FOR MORE

FROM THIS EVIL PLANTSMAN

AND HIS HERBALIST WIFE.

ENJOY.

Here at Tillinghast Manor, we strive to provide the best in Evil Plants, Herbals, Potions, Poisons and all manner of vegetative needs to our varied clientele. Because we take a neutral position in the various wars and feuds among tribes and species, we must require all customers to leave their weapons at the door before entering our Apothecary. Any Witch, Wizard, Vampyre, Lycan, "Monster" (for lack of a less derogatory term) or "Monster Hunter" who violates these rules, or who is found to have engaged their personal enemy on our premises, will be summarily dispatched.

We sell the weapons most of you use to kill. If you find your enemy here, chances are- we sell what can kill you as well. If not, the Banshee or the Evil Plants themselves could come in handy. We are not above torture, and have never signed on to the Geneva Convention.

With that said, let's talk about Valentine's Day. It is rubbish. This guy apparently, according to Catholic.org, helped out some martyrs who were being persecuted. That's it. That's all they've got. No specifics. He may have just looked at the evil pursuers and pointed the wrong way down a medieval alley. And for that, he's the patron saint of young love and happy marriages. Oh, yeah- the February 14th thing?

That's the day they cut off his head.

Image from catholic.org

With head.

(That's what she said.)

Lovely, isn't it? So romantic. *gag*

In honor of a good beheading, humans buy candy and flowers and go all out. They overload upscale restaurants to the point that the service and the food both become atrocious. Sometimes, they manage to get laid. Personally, I don't see it. But that's just me.

We here at the Apothecary prefer to celebrate our customers throughout the year, instead of dudes without heads. More profitable that way. Holly came up with the great idea to eschew the headless one in favor of a Sanguinary Soiree for our loyal customers and friends, the Vampires or Vampyres (depending on your favorite flavor, we shall use them interchangeably.)

Little known fact: Vampires do require our services. Our friends can drop by during our special evening hours. Where else can a Vampire order flowers to help with wooing a certain someone into a dark corner for some necking? The flower shop? I think not. Firstly, most flower shops close too early. Most important: your local florist might understand the subtle meanings behind flowers, but they will not cast the spell to make your flowers more, um, potent. (We make these jokes to the Vampire's faces, just so you know. The afflicted varieties of Vampire are painfully aware that without a heartbeat and blood flow, certain carnal pleasures are forever unavailable. Some of them see the humor. Others, well...)

One plant that Vampires particularly like is mistletoe. There is the tradition of kissing under it, for starters. Easy prey. Another reason is more poetic: mistletoe is really a vampire plant. It gets sustenance from the plant that it grows on. I suppose the Vampires find that sweet. Whatever the reason, they do seem to enjoy it.

Justine's Halloween has great suggestions for flowers, by the by. Plus there are the Vampire Plants. But we are not overly familiar with the good Doctor Who, so we won't get too much into that.

Our larger customer demographic regarding Vampires is obviously the Vampire Hunters. (Remember kids: no fighting on the premises. This is Switzerland, and that's final. Have some chocolate.) These Vampire Hunters come in various varieties.

We at Tillinghast Manor do not advocate the killing of children.

But sparkly children who are (by centuries, as far as we know) old enough to know better?

We are willing to make an exception.

The little known Politician variety.

Some Vampire Hunters enjoy Mensa meetings and

humor Seth Macfarlane. This makes them a little crushy.

Not potions professor crushy, but a little.

Our first offerings for the Vampire Hunters were rather obvious. Garlic, for instance. We grow several varieties of garlic, each with a unique chemical profile to deter or otherwise wreak havoc on a specific type of Vampire.

Images from my kitchen. Duh.

With both overwintering garlic varieties and purely summer grown ones, we are sure to always have the right garlic for all Vampire Hunters at the right time.

Garlic growing beside Black Mondo Grass.

Right now. I love Cascadia. Truly.

As our garden has grown, we have branched out (see the plant humor?) into other products including Vampire Stakes. Whenever we prune wood that is particularly well used for such weaponry, we put out a notice that soon the stakes will be available. Hawthorn is prized for staking, as it also has medicinal and magical qualities relating to the blood. Feel free to subscribe to our mailing list in the right hand sidebar if you would be interested in these notices.

This bandoleer belongs to one of our more recent customers. She has purchased stakes from us on several occasions to replenish her supply, as stakes sometimes burn with a vampire or are otherwise lost. We asked her permission to photograph the way she keeps her weapons handy while it was safely hanging on our doorside weapon and coat rack. She agreed.

We once pointed out that she could wrap

rope around the handles to avoid

splinters and blistering.

She called us terrible names.

Notice that this Lady Killer does not bother cleaning her stakes after use, she simply re-sheaths them. We have repeatedly implored her to do otherwise, as she might inadvertently create some sort of hybrid race of Vampires by innoculating, say, one of the sparkly blooded heathens with the blood of a Scars of Dracula type. Unfortunately, she believes that the sight of a used stake frightens them in their last moments, and enjoys that idea. She is a stupid girl, and one day we will all pay for her vengeful nature.

We hope you have enjoyed this (brief?) look at the various pleasures available to you in our Garden of Evil Delights and Herbal Apothecary. Please visit the other groups participating in the Vampire's Day Soiree 2012. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. And running. Lots and lots of running.

W6: I Got A Machine

2012-02-11T14:42:00.000-08:00

I got a machine. A Garmin machine. It's kind of a big deal.

For those who are wondering, I got the 405cx. It was the least ugly of the bunch, and it was on sale. These are very good reasons for choosing such an integral part of your training arsenal. In my defense, it is blue. Which is not pleasing to me. But the price was right, and I don't feel like I am wearing an Arm Computer from a Sci-Fi movie that was made pre-iPod. I do, however, now have a Nike footpod on my right shoe and a Garmin footpod on my left shoe, which makes me look like the NerdCore I really am. Finally, my insides match my outsides. Only took 36 years to make THAT happen. Sheesh.

Because of my machine, I am forcibly adhering to rest days. Though I no longer wish to do so. Which is odd. Rest has been my favorite thing since oh, like- ever.

Also because of my machine, I ran my first run since this one in July outdoors in the bright sun and lovely birdsong with no music, and no missing music. It was a piddly two miles. Then the next day, I ran another piddly two miles. This time with music. On the treadmill. AT THE EXACT SAME AVERAGE PACE FOR THE RUN. Which is the equivalent of saying "I painted the Mona Lisa twice and whadda ya know- it turned out exactly the same the second time" in my little world.

Despite the fact that this pace is not what I want it to be, I am now feeling rather confident. Not overly confident mind you (we are still talking about me, after all) but confident. I can do this. This is a good tool. Petra and Jill are genius caliber broads and should be fed grapes by beautiful men. While I am busy learning all the new gizmos on my machine. Then when I have learned all about this, the beautiful men can come back over here. I don't even like grapes.

I also did four miles of serious butt-whacking hills sans music. I hesitated because of the timing, but I think that as a teacher Sherry would approve of my following my training plan. I enjoyed the whole thing, even the worst bits that I had to walk. And the downhill bits that I ran like the devil was chasing me and ended up with a best pace of 7:36. If only I could hold THAT pace, then I wouldn't have to worry about keeping ahead of the freaking sweeper. Thank the talking walnut that the second half of Portland is mostly downhill. Whoot whoot! I could have gone further. Which was a nice feeling. A new feeling. This week was a good one.

Machine

I got a machine
And I took over the world
In one weekend
I took over the world
With my machine
I did it because
I was looking for a project
And it was either
Take over the world or learn French
So I took over the world
And next weekend
I can learn French
I got a machine
And I took over the world
But nothing changed
That wouldn't be fair

Violent Femmes lyric from here.

Next weekend, I can learn French. ; )

Overheard on the Internet

2012-02-10T23:53:00.000-08:00

DAVID

Posted February 4, 2012 at 4:55 am

He should be sitting on a beach, earning 20%.

Hear, hear David. Hear, hear.

AAAAACCCCCKK!

2012-02-09T15:15:00.000-08:00

I just looked at my sidebar: I've got 100 days, 14 hours, and *garbled bit* until I have to run a freaking Half Marathon.

*faints dead away*

Designing My House of Haunts for Haunted Design House

2012-02-06T16:17:00.000-08:00

It's crafty, people. Deal.

I love the blog Haunted Design House because it is a veritable font of great ideas, but I've never contributed anything. Until now. Lurker status, begone!!!

The blog has a great premise where on Macabre Monday they give you a design challenge and readers can submit their own pieces. Whatever you submit must fall within the parameters they set, and whomever suits their fancy wins a badge for their sidebar. I've coveted the badge for a long time, because I am a bling whore. (Now you know why I am killing myself to run Half Marathons when I should just be plodding along without registering for anything. Sue me.) This week's challenge totally suits my pensive pumpkiny gothic gardening glamour nature, so I decided to throw my hat in the ring.

There are no rules!!!

Do I feel like the Kool-Aid man when I read those words?

I'm just excited, y'all. I'm not wearing ice cubes in my head.

You see, most of the crafty things that get posted on the blog involve paper crafts, and I'm just not a paper craft girl. I enjoy seeing them, but not participating. I'm hoping that the "no rules" aspect means my non-paper-related craft complies! We shall see if the Masterful Mistress likes it, but I'm kind of partial to it regardless. This craft project has lots of foreplay and a quickie execution. Yes, I'm going to leave that one alone. Are you proud? *pats self on back*

There is one thing about this house that has stymied me for almost a decade. An important thing. One of the first things a visitor sees when they come to my home. The front porch light. A bare light bulb. *shivers at the the thought* At least it looked like a horror movie, but it was not pleasant. At all.

One day I was rummaging around in our shed and noticed one of the many things my oh-so-lovely farming in-laws had shoved in there when no one was looking: a roll of some sort of almost opaque, almost black, acrylic substance. It is roughly the texture of the plexiglass that comes in poster frames, but where it came from and what farmers were using it for? Beats me. I have this crazy idea that if they leave it in my shed it becomes fair game, so I started playing with it. It cuts fairly easily with regular scissors, although acute curves are almost impossible. What did I do with it for this project?

Cthulhu is about as freakish as it gets, eh? I'm not the biggest Lovecraft fan in the world. In fact, Shadow Manor has taught me much of what I know about Cthulhu. But the outside of my home has very few clues as to the subversive and subtle gothiness that awaits inside- so the High Priest of the Great Old Ones who will one day wake from his dreamy death at the bottom of the nearby Pacific Ocean and return to cause worldwide insanity and mindless violence seems like a good introduction. *cough*

I tried for a bit of baroque detailing along the lines of Skull A Day, except with tentacles instead of skulls. If I put skulls at the front door, they'll put me in a straightjacket for sure. Thus, I tried to shape the tentacles in a fashion that gently mimicked (mocked?) the sort of scrollwork that a Craftsman Bungalow like this one was meant to rebel against.

First, I bought a pressboard wreath form at the craft store. I'm all for using what I have lying around, but I also know my limits: one of them is a perfect circle. Then, I just cut a length of acrylic, drew on it with a sharpie, and started cutting.

Feet in snow boots for lovely weather,

and for scale.

If you plan to do something like this, draw a little then cut a little- it will show you how much play you have on the cutting radius and make the rest of the project a little less difficult / mysterious. Cut one sheet for the outside diameter of your wreath form, and another for the inner diameter. Here are a couple of chandeliers that inspired the shape of mine:

Once you have the sheets finished with your particular style, just glue them around the smaller circle inside the inner edge.

I used plastic epoxy, then went over that

(once dry) with Gorilla Glue. I'm a safety girl.

Then I drilled some holes and screwed the thing into the ceiling. Voila! Because the wreath form isn't wide enough to allow my drill in between the two sheets of acrylic, I had to get creative on attaching the second one. I didn't glue it, but used a wooden embroidery hoop to tighten it down. Those are $1.29 in the 12 inch size here, so I stuck with my "cheap as dirt" theme.

I think it turned out pretty well. A subtle hint at the darkness inside. I just got this done today, so here's hoping it casts creepy shadows all over the porch. Heh. I'd show you a picture from further away, but I'm afraid you'd come steal it. ; )

Merry Macabre Monday! Whoot whoot! (That is so not goth.)

W5: I Am Becoming

2012-02-03T00:38:00.000-08:00

I don't know why I let it throw me off every time this hurts.

Maybe I expected this to be easy. Maybe I thought that the only hard part would involve what I already knew. It would be hard to make my heart behave. It would be hard to put one foot in front of the other for 13.1 miles.

But as Donald Rumsfeld would say, I didn't plan for the Unknown Unknowns.

Rummy at Princeton in 1954, before he

learned all the bad things that

made his head explode.

The UnknownAs we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.
—Feb. 12, 2002, Department of Defense news briefing

This hurts. I'm pretty sure that was a Known Unknown for me. Hard to see now, from a distance. I think it was just a theoretical construct somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of my brain.

You see- I've never done anything remotely like this before. I've done difficult things, sure, but I've never forced my body to do something it didn't want to do. Yeah, I ran my first unchased step in May of 2011. We've gone over that. But I've really never done anything else either. I was a lifeguard, but that shit is easy. You learn to subdue the drowning, and then you lounge in a chair working on your tan all day. You get paid to work on your future skin cancer. It rocks. (Goth on the inside, people. Stay focused.)

So while the fact that it would hurt was a Known Unknown, what that would actually look like on a daily basis was an Unknown Unknown. It never crossed my mind that one day running a 5k wouldn't hurt and would actually feel good, and then a few days later running a mile would somehow be transformed into torture. I thought that once you could run, then you could run. The only question was learning to push harder, and run further or faster. I thought that this was a linear progression.

I was, as it turns out, sorely mistaken.

Luckily for me, being wrong is something I excel at. I can be wrong all damned day, and learn from my mistake, and while I may rhyme it I will not repeat it.

I think that this week I learned that even when you are capable of doing something, even when you have done something before and you know you can do it again, even when you want to do something again: it can hurt.

That had not occurred to me. It never crossed my mind that all you crazy fucking runners out on the roads and the trails and the treadmills of the world were (on some days, at some times) in pain. I thought that was a one time thing, like being shoved in a casket with an owl or being forced to drink bittersweet. I really thought that the daily grinding pain was some sort of initiation rite and then it went away.

You guys all look like you are having so much fun, there is no way that it ever hurts!

Photo shamelessly stolen from Jill, who can

apparently make hypothermia look like a great time.

I am a naive and silly girl.

Sometimes I seem funny when I'm not trying to be, and I wonder if this is one of those times. I'm deadly serious. I assumed that if it hurts I must be injured. This cannot be what this is supposed to feel like.

But the more that I think about this, the more I wrap my brain around my leg and my foot and the million other things about my body that feel different right now, the more I realize that these pains are becoming normal. This is just how it is now. It just hurts. It's not debilitating pain, and yes, I limp around a little funny. My foot starts to feel better after about half a mile when it has had a chance to loosen up. As it turns out, the calf pain that I kept referring to as my Whiny Bitch last month is normal. It wasn't my calf muscle detaching itself from my body. It was my calf muscle developing, something it had never been given the opportunity to do before. For the barefoot and the barely shod, it is to be expected. In the exact spot that caused me so much grief before, I now have a bulging muscle. That muscle probably has a name. I'd like to learn it. That Whiny Bitch and I have some history.

Later, new aches developed. Guess what? Those places look and feel different now. I have tendons attaching parts of limbs and bones in odd places where before there was only this roundness that I thought of as feminine. Now I see it as what it was: Soft. Yielding. Malleable. Now I am molding it into something that can Do instead of something that can only Be.

With a little bit of hindsight I am guessing that these aches I am experiencing today, the ones that led me into tape and ice and doubt, will follow the same path. In their place I will find what I am becoming. There is this one weird and ugly part of my knee that I had never noticed before I started running. It seems poorly constructed, like it was slapped on out of leftover parts at the very last minute before I was shipped out for this life. It looks useless. Today, when frantically Googling the injury I was certain had befallen me, I was led to an image of Ryan Hall. His knee has this leftover part too. So while my knee may not break any records, I'm willing to accept that this ugly bit has a purpose.

I am willing to accept that this pain has a purpose.

This pain, if the barefoot and barely shod writers are to be believed, is the next progression in my muscles becoming, um, muscular. As it turns out: pain on top of your foot can mean a metatarsal stress fracture. But if you run minimalist like I do, it could also mean that the muscles of your calf are sufficiently developed that now the muscles in your foot can start doing their part to drag your sorry whiny ass around. This pain is actually a good sign. A sign that all is well. A sign that I am becoming.

I'm still taking Friday off. It just doesn't seem prudent to push too hard right now. But I will be aqua running on Saturday and calling that Day One of Week Six. I am finished with this week. I learned a lot from it, but it needs to be over now. Week five was an unexpected cutback week, and that is okay. It just hurts.

I beat my machine it's a part of me it's inside of me
I'm stuck in this dream it's changing me i am becoming
The me that you know had some second thoughts
He's covered with scabs and he is broken and sore
The me that you know doesn't come around much
That part of me isn't here anymore
All pain disappears it's the nature of my circuitry
Drowns out all i hear there's no escape from this my new consciousness
That me that you know used to have feelings
But the blood has stopped pumping and he's left to decay
The me that you know is now made up of wires
And even when i'm right with you i'm so far away
I can try to get away but i've strapped myself in
I can try to scratch away the sound in my ears
I can see it killing away all my bad parts
I don't want to listen but it's all too clear
Hiding backwards inside of me i feel so unafraid
Annie, hold a little tighter i might just slip away
It won't give up it wants me dead
Goddamn this noise inside my head

Lyric from The Becoming by Nine Inch Nails. If you like angry music, try the version on The Downward Spiral. If you're into the lyric but prefer a more sedate version, try the version on Still. To my ear, listening to these back to back is like talking to your future or past selves. Scary, but in a good way.

What All the Most Pensive Are Wearing

2012-02-02T15:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, amid my Lulu style frivolity, I went shopping at one of my faves from Gothling days: Metro. It's located on Broadway in Seattle's Capitol Hill. This neighborhood is about as eclectic as you can get in Seattle: it's rainbowed out to the max, loaded up with punks, dotted with the poshest of enclaves, Mecca for the homeless, and borders both a sprawling medical district and some of the most minority-centric areas in several states. You can get fried catfish here, or heroin. Or you could go to one of several universities. Whatevs. I loved living here.

What did I buy?

Nice and fitted through the shoulders down to the waist, then a tiny little peplum with tails. Tails, people! It's formal! Meet my new Spring jacket. My mother will be appalled. "You cannot possibly be mine!" Heh.

My other new accessory is not nearly as fun.

My podiatrist blamed that swollen ankle

on my mother. Then she offered to

lipo it away. Ankle lipo? WTF, America?

And to think, I didn't want to talk about my IT band hurting. Now what I'm refusing to discuss is the fact that it makes me nauseous to walk on this.

Shut up. I'm back to a few more days off. Never mind this week. I'll just reschedule the whole week for next week. And then I'll be able to walk without a limp and I won't have anything else broken in this damned foot where the sesamoid was broken last time. Right? Right?

Good thing I ordered a freaking Garmin this morning.

Pacing? What's That?

2012-02-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

Went to West Seattle for my long run today- weather like this makes a girl want to skip out of actual responsibilities and go have some fun!

Those clouds are to the East. Since they normally hug

us from October - April, I decided to take advantage!

If you've never run at Alki and you get a chance, you really should. When I was in law school, Alki Beach was my afternoon reprieve. At the time it never occurred to me that I could run, so I spent hours walking this path around a peninsula jutting into Elliott Bay and Puget Sound. It's a fantastically beautiful place. One thing I never noticed is the pavement. I suppose that it made little difference to me when I was walking instead of running, but this stuff is HARD! As I neared my car on the return, I saw an elderly lady walking on the bike path which is surfaced with a more forgiving substance. Lesson learned there- look around!

But my real question is this:

How did my pacing ability fail so spectacularly????

Every time I tried to run, I shot out at a pace minutes faster than Saturday's 5k. Which was a PR. (I just wanted to say that again. Heh.) Needless to say, I cannot hold this very long. Guess what? I got tired really quickly! After knowing I did this on my first interval, I tried to go really slow the second interval. Same thing. WTF? I got so tired and sore and winded and frustrated that it didn't take long for this to go from Long Run to Suck It Up Run. I cut off the last of the miles and just willed myself to do a different workout. I felt the pain, I refused the suffering, and I enjoyed my day in the sun. It was nice. *grumbling something about IT bands and voodoo science and how she now has to fit her long run in some other day, when there is no time*

Now I feel like I need to spend lots and lots of time on a treadmill so I can learn what a good pace for me feels like. Does my body think I need to sprint like a mofo every time I run? Have I gone insane? How does one learn pacing, since clearly I have no idea?

Tonight I am icing myself like a trophy marlin. My body really does not want to go that fast. Too bad my brain wasn't paying any attention.

Any tips on how to teach myself pacing? Fast ways? Good Lord have mercy, I need some help here. All ideas are welcome, including just throwing away pace altogether. Which I might do. Because this is crazy.

The Morning News Cycle In Cascadia NSFW

2012-02-01T08:48:00.000-08:00

Seattle library lets man watch porn, upsets mother

Credit: AP

by KING 5 News

Posted on February 1, 2012 at 6:55 AM

Updated today at 7:15 AM

SEATTLE – A Seattle mother is speaking out after spotting a man viewing porn on a Seattle Public Library computer in plain view for everyone – including her 10-year-old daughter.

Julie Howe tells The Seattle Timesthe computer was located next to the popular DVD section at the Lake City branch.

When she approached librarians about it, Howe says she was told that it's library policy to not censor people’s access to information. The only exception is on computers in the children’s section, which are filtered for content.

A library spokesperson says the library is considering moving the DVD section somewhere else in order to cut down on inadvertent viewing of computer screens.

The story is here.

And just below that on the main page:

Serving alcohol at senior centers stirring up controversy

by TERESA YUAN / KING 5 News

Bio

Posted on February 1, 2012 at 8:24 AM

SEATTLE -- Serving alcohol at senior centers - that's at the heart of a new controversial bill in Olympia.

State lawmakers heard the first reading of Senate Bill 6076 Tuesday.

A big supporter of the liquor bill is the Senior Center of West Seattle. The center says funding is a constant struggle for the private, non-profit group.

"You know this is really stepping out on a limb, when you're looking to change liquor law changes. It's a hot button," said Karen Sisson, Executive Director of the Senior Center of West Seattle.

This year, her center started in the red with $56,000 less. Under this new bill, it would allow only private senior centers to apply for this new liquor license. Centers could sell beer, wine and spirits throughout the year.

In West Seattle, the senior center would like to sell alcohol at fundraisers, like dances and their very popular "Rainbow Bingo," which is packed with baby boomers and members of the gay community.

Story here.

Moral of these stories: we may kiss and tell, but we're definitely having more fun here. ; )

A Debt to Cobwebs

2012-01-31T08:01:00.000-08:00

Cobwebs did not want to play the 11 Random things game. At all. I groveled and cajoled, and in the end thought she would fly to Cascadia expressly to kick my ass. She still might.

So, when she posted 11 questions at the end of her gracious answer, I felt compelled to answer them. For your reading pleasure:

What is your favorite candy? Anything from Pierre Herme. reviews of his work. In particular, I love the Ispahan Chocolate. Locally, the Fran's Chocolates lineup is all awesome and I enjoy hand-choosing boxfulls of chocolate for loved ones. The salted caramel chocolates are to die for, and a single one after a trip to the Seattle Art Museum across the street makes my lunar year. *end food nerd rant* You could also put peanut butter on a rotten goat turd, and I might just eat it. Those peanut butter eggs at Easter are like speedballs at the grocery checkout. The rotten bastards know. They know.

What is your least favorite vegetable? Cauliflower. Which is odd, since it looks like brains.

Do you play a musical instrument? Probably not so well anymore, due to lack of practice. At one time I could play piano and bass guitar. As soon as I get the piano tuner guy here, I plan to change my answer.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? I broke my nose with a 2x4. That hurt more than a broken arm.

What’s under your bed? Now I'm afraid there's someone hiding under there. Thanks. I am not looking.

If you could publish one book, what would it be about? A family case history of depression. No one would want to read it, so I have not written it. But we've got serious multi-generational evidence of a genetic cause around here. Trust me.

Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. I grew up in a haunted house, and I live in one now.

What’s on your mouse pad? Fingerprints. (laptop track pad)

What are you currently reading? Sex at Dawn. I love evolutionary biology, and this is like Survival of the Prettiest, except for sex instead of beauty. That may be the nerdiest sentence I have ever typed.

If you could have any job you wanted, what would it be? Why, in this dream world, must I work at all? Hunter/gatherer? Forager?

What’s your all-time favorite TV show? I could take or leave most television. Hmmmmm. Charmed? I loved that show. Reruns entrance me. Then again, there was You Can't Do That on Television...

W4: FYTO5k, or What If I Say I'm Not Like the Others?

2012-01-28T16:08:00.000-08:00

Lyric in post title stolen from: The Pretender, Foo Fighters.

Today, I PR'd the 5k.

Happy dance. Inspirational Legs.

What more could a girl ask?

A lot of bloggers would hold out the suspense until the end. As my older posts can tell you, I've had enough drama for one week. Getting this off my chest up front was TOTALLY the way to go today. And I am so excited I might as well be a freaking Pointer Sister.

Last weekend, I ran the Twitter 5k. I PR'd that race by four minutes. These things happen when you are a fairly new runner, I know this. So while I savored that moment I knew it had more to do with me putting in the consistent training than me being a rock star.

This week's training was absolute crap, just as an attempt by the Running Gods to keep me in my place. Crappy McCrapperson Crap. Off in the bushes crap. I had two runs I didn't bother even syncing into my totals because they were such crap. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week- and I found some reasons for this. Number one: fear, which I covered at excruciating length in the previous post. Number two: poor fuel choices. I tend to highly disordered eating. I've lived a year on pretzels and mustard, a year on balance bars- you name that bizarre not quite an eating disorder but close? I've done it. The past two weeks, I've been living all day on coffee then eating a sensible dinner. Um- not a good fueling plan. Fixed that Wednesday night, got the new Runner's World with an article about disordered eating in the mail on Thursday. The universe has made its point.

Needless to say, my expectations were low for this race:

I wanted it to be awesome, of course, but given the way this week went- I had my doubts.

My goals for this race were:

C goal: Don't die. Always the most important of my goals. Also, finish the race. Two parter.

B goal: Beat my Twitter Race time. This seemed reasonable enough, given a week of terrible training that almost amounted to a week without running. Plenty of yoga, plenty of plyometrics, very little running. Doable.

A goal: Finish with a time that starts with a 3. I've told you guys before how slow I am, but I've always been too embarrassed to give you numeric evidence. I am REALLY REALLY SLOW LIKE CRAZY YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE- S.L.O.W.

Image Source. Also, when I searched

for slow, p0rn came up. Snail p0rn. WTF?

Who's been using my computer?

My Twitter time was 40:59. Thus my A goal was to peel a minute off that and get into the 30's. I did not expect more. Like I said: SLOW.

*insert dramatic pause here*

I ran 35:03. Hubby laughed at me afterward because I was making up curse words in an effort to express my surprise. I really don't know what to say. In the past 8 days, 10 minutes have been shaved off my 5k PR. Yes, my machine is calibrated and matches the distances on the track. No, I have not re-calibrated since the Twitter Race. At one point, almost 2.5k in while listening to the song referenced above, I noticed that I was breathing like I was in yoga class: slow, smooth, strong- nothing like the painfully ragged shit I've been fighting since May. As soon as I acknowledged it, it was gone. Flow is like that. But it was there. And I loved it.

I'm too tired right now to express my happiness, but trust me- it is there. This week was so bad that more than once I found myself saying, out loud, that I should just quit. I never should have thought I could do this. I've been told all my life that I can't do this. Why am I trying to do this? I suck ass.

But today, I kick ass.

Take that, voice inside my head. And get the fuck out.

I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear
I'm the face that you have to face, mirrorin' your stare
I'm what's left, I'm what's right, I'm the enemy
I'm the hand that'll take you down, bring you to your knees
So who are you? Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you? Yeah, who are you?

Keep you in the dark, you know they all pretend

What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?

Road ID and My Psychosis

2012-01-26T15:16:00.000-08:00

I am not the best runner in the world. I am not the fastest, or the smartest, or the one with the best endurance. I might be capable of these things, but I will probably never know. Why? You may ask...

Fear. Pure, unvarnished, unadulterated fear. My best runs, the ones I have not been having lately, are always accomplished when I have ceased to be afraid. Either I have conquered momentarily or I have forgotten or I just no longer care because fine, kill me, see if I care. Depression has its advantages after all.

It never ceases to amaze me how the pounding of my own heart can make me so afraid, when the majority of my cardiac incidents have given me no warning whatsoever.

I wake up on the ground outside a building on my law school campus, surrounded by terrified strangers, and I have no recollection how I got there. I try to stand up, but my hands are still trapped in my coat pockets because I was unconscious before I started falling, seconds before my forehead bounced off the pavement.

I come to in an emergency room and a nurse asks my name. My parents were in such a hurry to get my blue and lifeless body under a doctor's care that they didn't bother to tell the people who carried their preschooler away even that much.

I open my eyes and see the shower stall, feel the cold water raining down over me. This must mean I was unconscious long enough to drain the hot water tank, but I'll never know for sure.

These incidents seem pretty normal to me. Each of them happened in an entirely different decade of my life. For what seemed like forever, neurologists said it was a problem they could solve, then cardiologists said the same thing- now I'm in this weird existential limbo because it is an electrical problem, but it is in my heart, and there is nothing to be done except implant a defibrillator and hope it can restart my heart. I don't want to be a cyborg. But my cardiologist says the next time I pass out, I get to be a cyborg. The last time a cardiologist told me that, I found a new cardiologist. This time- I started running. I really don't know.

But my point is this: it makes me afraid. I remember all the times I didn't pass out but I felt like I might, and I know how close I was to something bad. Terms like torsade de pointes entered my vocabulary after the moments I described, but now I have to fight to keep them out of my head. They meld so nicely with my footfalls, they can easily become a mantra. A mantra that raises my heart rate, in a bad way, and makes me afraid. A mantra that makes me want to stop running.

Not everyone has weird shit wrong with their heart like I do. Thank God. Not everyone is told by their cardiologist that no, really, you should move to be closer to the emergency room. Not everyone needs to make sure EMTs don't give them epinephrine if at all avoidable. But everyone should have some form of identification on them when they run, because you never know.

You never know when the car zooming by will come a little too close. You never know when you'll trip and really hurt yourself this time. You never know when the thing you never considered possible suddenly will be. We've all learned a little more about that lately.

Because of that, and because the impossible happens to me on a regular basis, I run with a Road ID. I think my runs have been crap this week for a whole plethora of reasons, but most of those reasons are just excuses and when it comes down to it: those runs have been crap because I've been afraid. I was running without my trusty bracelet because the information was wrong. I felt naked. Not in a good way. So I was HELLA excited when I won the giveaway at Barefoot Inclined, and even more excited that my prize was a new Road ID. For some inane reason I was refusing to buy myself a new one. I'm such a stubborn ass sometimes. I needed this Jeff. Thank you from the bottom of my seedy and broken heart.

I got it in the mail today (despite it being back-ordered until February- awesome customer service!) and it is so much cooler than my old one, I cannot even begin to describe. My first Road ID was the original:

When I got this first one, I was not a runner. I had a subscription to Runner's World, but I had never run a step. I was afraid. At the time, I was going through another battery of tests *groan* and this was one step I took to keep my family happy. That and spending $5000 on a single vial of blood. *deleted rant about the state of American healthcare* I'd almost passed out at the gym (in the dressing room, without working out- the horror!) and it was really traumatic for me. I've been shocked with those little paddles they show on TV and I've been given CPR and I, as we like to joke around here, die on a regular basis. It was the day I didn't die that scared me, because it was the day I was awake for it. The rest of the time I am oblivious, and only the people around me get freaked out. After that day, I wore this bracelet everywhere. In the shower. At the grocery store. With black tie at fundraisers, which was not a good look. I did not take this bitch off.

This ugly thing was clearly designed by a man, and not one with aesthetic sense, either. No style at all. All function. And I wore mine so much it was stinky and unraveling and just gross.

My new Road ID is the bomb, to coin a phrase. ; ) The old one did the job and never fell off and was adjustable for my remarkably bloatable wrists. It was my first reflective gear, and made me feel good when real athletes refrained from pointing and laughing at the poser outsider wearing it.

I know I overuse this image.

You find a better alternative,

and we will talk.

I love it. This one is not only awesome because it might just save my life one day, it looks cute on. Which means that people with less fear than me might actually wear it. Score one for the Road ID design team!!!

Introducing the Wrist ID Slim:

Isn't that better? Sexier? More powerful? Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating that last bit. But I was soooooooooooo thrilled when this came out of its little metal box. Seriously: where was this box the first time I bought one of these? I will keep something awesome in this box. I promise.

Yes, I keep 837 windows open on my

computer at all times. Nerd Core!

What might that something awesome be? Why, other colors of wristbands, of course!

I ordered these colors with the new Road ID since they were just $1.00 each. You know I'm planning to be a crazy costumed runner, right? These are your hint about the costumes I am planning. ; ) Even better, this ID can be worn on "cause" bracelets like Livestrong or Breast Cancer or what have you. I've got a TON of those lying around, and this will be awesome. A whole wardrobe of medical information, and yet it still looks vaguely "medic alert" enough to capture the EMT's attention. I love this bracelet!

Here is a photo on my wrist, so you can get an idea of sizing:

Medium leaves me plenty of room for my bizarre wrist bloat. Gotta love that.

Size small is an exact fit on my wrist with no pinching at all. I think I will be wearing the small as a more formal option, if that makes any sense. It just looks dressier.

My medical information takes up lots of room. I include exclamation points because I am really freaking serious. My list of drug interactions is so long that doctors have to look up everything they give me in the PDR or whatever they are using. (If you are nerdy and want to see it, here ya go.) There is plenty of room for name, age, medical information, emergency contact name and phone, and, in my case, even some allergy information. I did not get the interactive version because by the time they got my medical records and had a chance to read them, I'd be beyond reviving. That's just me, though. I get a total of eleven minutes from the beginning of an event, and part of that is before I lose consciousness. Most people get longer, and I think the interactive version is a completely awesome thing to have available- I just don't want to give them so much information they get distracted. Have you ever seen the TV show This Hour Has 22 Minutes? That's my golden hour, people. To each his own.

I love this bracelet. I will wear it at all times, and I am excited to run tonight, despite the fact that I will then be doing plyometrics and then doing yoga- it's a three parter! I needed this today to get me excited again, and lo! Ask and ye shall receive.

Thanks again to Jeff, who rocks. Thanks to the good folks at Road ID for making a product that helps me fight the demons inside my own head.

And thanks to all of you, for reading this ungodly long post.

***disclaimer- I was given this product free of charge after winning a contest on another blog. This review was my idea, and I received no compensation excluding the product itself. With that said, I have purchased this product before, and I will do so again if necessary for replacement purposes.***

Umbrage, But Not Dolores: Halloween Edition

2012-01-26T12:04:00.000-08:00

I took Umbrage (not Umbridge, Potterheads) with a comment made on the Fright Catalog Halloween Blog, and wondered what you guys thought. At least, what those few Halloween people still paying attention while I endlessly yammer on about running thought. I'm still with you, loves. Don't ever forget that. I'm just trying to outrun those modern fast zombies.

The post was about Warm Bodies, which I discussed back in October. Obviously I changed wigs at the last minute and forgot that my first wig had a fringe, so my forehead was alive and the rest of my face was dead. C'est la vie.

But the post on my ever loved Fright Catalog was discussing this book and movie in a negative way. Far be it from me to suggest that someone be more positive about anything: I am one of the most negative people on the planet and this would be a serious Pot and The Kettle situation. But I like the idea of mainstream culture beginning to turn on to our values. As much as I hate the whole sparkly vampire phenomenon- some of those kids look beyond it and see Dracula Pere et Fils or something else that is actually GOOD! Maybe, just maybe, this would lead them to the movie that I think of when I think Christopher Lee (which makes me a bad person, so sue me)

Between this and Morgan Freeman in his

bathtub casket, I had no chance. None.

So I ask you: is "bad" genre film that pollutes your idea of perfection really bad? There are many who would call House of the Long Shadows absolutely terrible. But it led me here, decades later. This isn't judgement, people (though I did type a Freudian slip of the term "proles" there, so maybe I do feel a little high and mighty about this one) this is a real question. I hate Twilight. There. I said it. I hate sparkly vampires and Mary Sues who swoon over teenage boys as much as the next girl who is willing to look grotesque on Halloween. But I think there is a reason for the existence of genre creep. It introduces people who only like teen romance to the idea that werewolves are cool. Then they start calling them lycans and realize that Lucian is a much better human being than those ultra stylish vampires. Then they watch An American Werewolf in London. And then we're getting somewhere.

It is a slippery slope, people. I'm just wondering if you think that sliding around in the mud is as much fun as I believe it to be. Assuming, of course, that we are all in pursuit of the same thing: brains.

This Is Suspiciously Like 1st Grade Duck, Duck Goose...

2012-01-25T12:58:00.000-08:00

I got tagged again! This time by Beth at SUAR, who is possibly the funniest shit evah. I don't know if this makes me feel REEEEALLY popular, or if it is like grade school where the fast kids tag the slow kids just to laugh at them. Either way, I'm game. And if I ever catch you- look out!

le rules:

1. Post these rules
2. You must post 11 random things about yourself
3. Answer the questions set for you in their post
4. Create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer
5. Go to their blog and tell them you’ve tagged them
6. No stuff in the tagging section about you are tagged if you are reading this. You legitimately have to tag 11 people!

Random shit is HARD this time. I am very uninteresting, people.

1. I am a lawyer. I hate being a lawyer, but I wasted $100,000 on this education and feel guilty about doing something else.
2. My diet sucks big time. I am trying the Paleo thing, but yet Hubby still begs "Can we have something green for dinner?" *sigh*
3. Something positive- I have a great rack. Strangers tell me this on a regular basis.
4. In order to keep fooling myself that The Girls will stay perky forever (they noticed my 35th birthday, I assure you) I am obsessed with these bras. Just ordered a new one, in fact. they hold everything so firmly that you can jump up and down yet always see the label on the band. Even better- they look like 1950's torpedo bras when brand spanking new. I go weeks without running in a new one because they are total SWEATER GIRL territory.
5. I bake bread. Good bread. Which justifies my terrible diet.
6. Solsbury Hill is one of the songs I want played at my funeral.
7. I've been keeping the whole "running" thing a secret, and Hubby outed me last week because I didn't tell him it was a secret. Now there are real life running type people asking me questions and I am terrified. Terrified!
8. I won a "best in show" trophy at the county fair, which I keep in my dining room despite it making me feel like an animal raised for slaughter. It was a baby picture contest. Awwww...
9. I have insomnia simply because I'm afraid that if I fall asleep, I'll never wake up. Heart condition PTSD sucks.
10. I haven't been in my dressing room since Christmas Day because I just keep wearing the same 5 outfits over and over. Yes, I wash them.
11. Before I found running, I lived almost entirely above my shoulders. Now, for a brief time every day, I stop being a hermit nerd and actually LIVE my life instead of thinking about it. I am grateful for that.

Beth's Questions for we unlucky tagged people:

In five words or less, tell me your most embarrassing moment (example - mine would be boyfriend, toilet, overflow).

accidental public sex *the public part was an accident, not the sex part. hell, that made me blush just thinking about it*

What’s one habit you need to break?

Rubbing my eyebrows- I break the damn things off and have to draw them back on like an old, old woman. It's sexy.

What’s your favorite book of all time?

The Hedonism Handbook: Mastering the Lost Arts of Leisure and Pleasure. It is shelved in humor, and the entire book is all about how you should enjoy three martini lunches and things like "buy the outfit, screw the phone bill!" I think it should be shelved in philosophy, because this is how I live my life. There is a stack of copies in the closet, and I give them to people as gifts. Love this book. You should all read it.

Have you ever cheated on a test or a partner (don’t need to tell me which one)

I solved a Rubik's cube by removing the stickers, but I am a big believer in honesty so I outed myself afterward. Other than that, nope- I tell Hubby I'm a slut. He claims he already knew. *shrug*

If you weren’t doing your current job, what would be your profession?

I would rather shove a hot poker up my ass than continue doing this job. Maybe I should be a dominatrix?

Do you think Bob Harper is gay?

Is that the guy from Biggest Loser? *weeping because Beth will never talk to her again*

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

I'm sure I get compliments on something other than my rack, but I don't tend to remember. This is one of my many flaws.

Would you be able to run further or faster?

Please, God- let the answer be both! If it's not then I am sooooooo screwed!

What food gives you gas?

Food type food. I like to dutch oven the cat.

Ever done a cleanse or had a colonic?

Yes. I'll probably do it again since I let peer pressure rule my life.

What’s your dream marathon?

One with a REALLY long cut-off time. I'm looking at one where you can start as early as you want and the winner is the person who predicted their time best, finishing closest to Midnight. I might have a chance at that. But first I have to stop procrastinating by answering these questions and go out for a five miler. Because I'm hard core.

My eleven questions for people, since apparently asking people three questions angered the meme Gods:

1. Who is your favorite superhero?

2. What is your favorite of all your awesome body parts?

3. How many careers have you gone through so far?

4. What was your latest Halloween costume?

5. If you have the time and energy to cook anything you want, what do you cook?

6. If you could wake up in someone else's body for the day, who would you be?

7. What would you do as that person? (easy two parter- score!)

8. What is your favorite book?
9. You win one of those around the world plane tickets- where do you go first?
10. What is your biggest struggle?
11. What is your biggest goal in life?

My taglets are:

1. the dilettantista , because of whom, one day, I shall learn to spell dilettante. maybe.
2. Cobwebs at Shadow Manor, about whose findings I have been known to obsess.
3. Emma at Little Gothic Horrors. She lives in my house, y'all, yet refuses to tell me where she hides the remote.
4. Cyn at brg in red sidis, my newest soul sister.
5. ShellHawk, whose pumpkins I covet.
6. Gone Feral in Idaho, the coolest amazon on earth.
7. Run Bitch Run because I have finished reading your entire archive and it is hard to stalk you when you refuse to post. *cough*
8. Halloween Spirit at orange and black. pretty and ghoulish, that's my motto.
9. My other soul sister Lulu who claims she'll be back on the 30th. Yeah. We shall see.
10. Run With Jill *singing* because I love you...
11. Steve at Run, Race, Repeat. Because I am intimidated by you, and therefore I shove myself in your general direction. *waving like a little kid* Hi!

you best answer, or this cat will get you:

Image from Resident Evil nerd.

There y'all go. Again. Enough procrastinating for one day- off for my "run."

I'm Awfully Glad I'm An Epsilon

2012-01-24T15:12:00.000-08:00

This kind of stuff freaks me out. Especially since my email is on Google, for now. It is like they've got my whole life in a little box with a big bow. I understand that I am trackable all over the interwebs and the "I'm not doing anything wrong" argument applies to me simply because I am boring as shinola. But I turn off the location services on my phone and I am the last remaining American without a Facebook page for a reason. Hell, I buy stuff with cash on occasion and don't like those "frequent shopper" cards that stores use to track your purchases. I know. I am a bad, bad girl and deserve to be spanked.

But really- my husband does not know as much about me as my internet service provider must know. And we have no secrets. I don't hide information, and we spend a lot of time together and whatnot. He doesn't know that I research crazy crap online because he doesn't care. The clothing at All Saints does not appeal to him. It appeals to me, I'm just not willing to pay for it. So my ISP knows I like All Saints because I go there and stalk leather when I'm bored. My husband does not. Hell, the store doesn't know much except that I click and where I came from- unless Google or a similar service tells them. This is totally off topic, I know. But it is freaky.

“Alpha children wear grey. They work much harder than we do, because they’re so frightfully clever. I’m awfully glad I’m a Beta, because I don’t work so hard. And then we are much better than the Gammas and Deltas. Gammas are stupid. They all wear green, and Delta children wear khaki. Oh no, I don’t want to play with Delta children. And Epsilons are still worse. They’re too stupid to be able to read or write. Besides they wear black, which is such a beastly color. I’m so glad I’m a Beta.“
- Aldous Huxley, Brave New World, Ch. 2

W3: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

2012-01-21T19:48:00.000-08:00

This one was interesting. Cascadia got a bit of snow and ice: nothing unusual for other parts of the world, but more than our infrastructure could handle. Because of it, the roads were too bad to run for most of the week, and the gym was even closed two days. Hard to run like that.

I did, however, get two runs in on Tuesday. Two-a-days. I'm Nerd Core like that. In reality, it was just easy because the gym is near Hubby's office and I drove him to work, either way I got a track workout in the morning and a tempo sort of run in the afternoon. My overall speed was much better when I went slower in the afternoon since I took fewer breaks. This was news to me.

Cross training: some plyometrics before run number 2 that day. See- I really was trying! The other day I found a box jumping setup in a gym room I never use- the CrossFit room. I was soooooo excited! Jumping boxes is great fun, and is (perish the thought) even harder than running.

This is a thrilling development for me, and while it will take a while for me to get back into this, I love it. I'll totally keep this up, and it is GREAT for stabilizer muscles. Having the ability to work muscles that your body recruits more when your legs are tired? Priceless.

Then RnRPDX announced their course and the elevation. If you are good at reading these, feel free to help me out. I hike so I understand in theory, but having never run a race leaves me at a disadvantage here.

Regardless, miles 3-6 are going to suck and I am now in full on Operation Improve Quads.

As for my Twitter Road Race on Saturday? I am slow. Slow as Christmas. But maybe not slower than Christmas any more. I was not the slowest, which is AWESOME! That was a possibility, I assure you. I shaved 33 seconds off my fastest mile to date, which is nice, and I shaved around four minutes off my fastest 5k to date. All in all, while it was not a huge success and I had to take a lot of walk breaks due to chest pain (shut up, I know what various types of chest pain are- email me if you really want details on that bit) I am happy with the result.

Next up: improve my sucky sucky diet since I subsisted on things I found in the cabinets for most of the week. No rest for the wicked. Cage the Elephant.

Oh, shit!

2012-01-20T14:22:00.001-08:00

Just got the Department of Corrections letter notifying us when the guy who at one point wanted to kill Hubby is being released.

I thought the Competitor Group was trying to kill me. Wow. What a week. I don't know if I'm looking forward to it ending or not- things might just get worse.

In all fairness, this guy hasn't actively threatened Hubby for a long time. But at one point other legal professionals thought they had an obligation to warn us that superseded attorney-client privilege. Also, at least one law enforcement officer who has dealt with the guy suggested that I pack heat after his release.

Interesting decisions ahead. I'll share whatever seems appropriate.

I am, at this moment, a very Pensive Pumpkin.

Striking Terror Into My Seedy Heart

2012-01-20T10:57:00.000-08:00

Competitor Group is trying to kill me, y'all.

Full Course Map

I don't know why this terrifies me, but it totally does. Did I not know this was a Half Mary? Freaking the freak out.

The Pumpkin Returns

2012-01-19T12:50:00.000-08:00

Did I move my business website away from GoDaddy (a supporter of SOPA) yesterday? Why yes, I did. Actually it is effective at the end of the month since my account is paid until then, but I need the time for the move. It's the thought that counts, and all that jazz.

This is obviously from Chicago and not All That Jazz.

But her prenup is reportedly even stranger

than mine, and that's saying something.

Plus she seems like a cool broad.

Did I feel like the world was on fire? Yes, I did. Like the new background? I think it's hot. *cough*

Today, just to make sure I wasn't getting full of myself, the universe decided to awaken me to

1. some frozen pipes, and

2. a lack of internet.

That was fun. Apparently Hubby was up and doing emergency plumbing repairs at 1:30 this morning, and I slept through the whole thing. I shall have to add this to the list of things I can sleep through on the rare occasion I sleep at all. Sleeping through a person rummaging around on your back porch is probably less bizarre than sleeping through a tornado that takes out a tree from your yard and your neighbor's house. I think. But it is still weird.

Lack of internet was easy to fix, ob-vious-ly, but the plumbing is still whacked. We do have water, but no hot water. With a few inches of snow on the ground, some freezing rain on the way from the South, and a balmy 19 degrees Fahrenheit about half an hour's drive to the North: things are looking somewhat interesting around here. We texted the plumber first thing this morning (he's a young guy, and that's the sort of relationship you develop with plumbers when your house is 100 years old) and guess what: his Grandmother died this morning. Did I feel like an asshole for worrying about hot water and frozen pipes and other such nonsense? Yes. Did I want to soul kiss the kid when he said he couldn't make it until at least this afternoon? Yes. Do I doubt he will show up? Yes.

I'm okay with that. Things could always be worse. I could be firing a gun at my imaginary friend near 400 gallons of nitroglycerin.

SOPA strike

2012-01-17T21:12:00.001-08:00

This space goes dark. Look it up if necessary. Suck it, SOPA. People stealing other people's art / work and claiming as their own or making money on it is wrong. This is not the answer.

Here is one little bit of info for you, courtesy of Forbes. Because I am an evil person linking to someone else's writing. Because it is better than my own. And it is freaking Forbes. One iteration down, one million to go.

link to story

Or one on CNN

I'm sure you can find more if you'd like. But I'd hate to be labelled a terrorist.

Today's Workout, Interpreted by The Brain

2012-01-17T13:01:00.000-08:00

Legs: Is there a bear?

Eyes: No.

Legs: Is there a zombie apocalypse?

Eyes: Well, I think American Idol might be back. Does that count?

Legs: Then why are we going so fast?

Eyes: Eye have no idea. You see what I did there? Twice?

Liver: *groaning* Your terrible puns are giving me cirrhosis.

Brain: Shut up, all of you! This is a track workout, on the treadmill, so we have no idea WTF we are doing.

All: *in unison* Oh...

Legs: I wondered why suddenly "fast" had three digits instead of four. Owie.

Lungs: Fuck. *pant* The fuck. *pant* Off!

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

W2: Bleed It Out

2012-01-15T06:23:00.000-08:00

Bleed It Out, by Linkin Park

This week was a wee bit bizarre. I feel like I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, but I'm not quite there yet. My first track workout ever was a real eye opener. Given that I essentially do intervals every single time I run, this wasn't something that worried me. I was wrong. Track workouts are hard, and my estimate of how much I could take was sorely overconfident. But I learned: primarily, I learned that my lungs will recover quickly and more mileage doesn't hurt more. Same lesson with my legs and my heart: more mileage doesn't hurt more. At this point, I seem to have reached a suffering plateau. If I stop the discomfort ends, but the beating myself up for stopping starts soon after. If I keep going, the discomfort keeps going but does not get worse. The recovery might, but not the discomfort during. This is one of the things I love about Brain Training for Runners- it purports to teach your brain that the discomfort is mandatory but the suffering is optional. Suffering is lack of acceptance. I am learning to accept, slowly, mile by mile.

My long run this week was not a run at all. Because of my Run / Walk approach, the overall view is a little different from most of the blogs out there. In a couple of books I've read lately, they've made a point of saying "At least I didn't walk." To me, that is just silly. Maybe I'm not expecting enough of myself, but there's no shame in walking for me. I just want to walk faster as well as running faster. So this week, I racewalked my long run. Seriously racewalked. Like these crazy people.

I looked just as dumb as they do, but figure if walking breaks for my heart rate go faster then my overall time gets faster too. For some reason, the trail was full of retiree couples out for some birdwatching, and they thought I was insane. Maybe they were right. My great-grandfather was actually a champion racewalker, so it seemed like a good idea to try it. I can apparently racewalk a 15:30 mile or so, and do it for more than 9 1/2 miles. The next day was interesting, but yoga was still possible. In fact, yoga was possible three days this week- even if one new instructor is such a Sadist she laughs when I say so out loud in class and another new instructor enjoys throwing in pushups to the middle of sun salutations. This will make me cut, and quick. Wow.

Watched the Olympic Marathon Trials, felt inspired and went to the gym for a treadmill session afterward even though nothing was in the plan: perfect end to the week. Hoping to have more weeks like this one, when it was great fun to just Bleed It Out.

It's A Sunshine Day

2012-01-13T09:13:00.000-08:00

Just a little extra luck for your lucky Friday the 13th.

I'm loaning my traditional Friday the 13th Black Cat Luck

to SUAR this year. Still hoping for good things.

beauty.

2012-01-11T16:49:00.000-08:00

This is the most hypnotically beautiful thing I have ever seen. Seriously- it even gives Emma Thompson's cheekbones a run for their money, and that is saying something. Granted, I am a geeky booky type person who squeals over stop motion animation and thinks that Heaven will be a giant library that you can re-categorize at will. I also just got out of a cold bath for some seriously aching muscles, so I might have a touch of hypothermia. No ice, though. I got enough of that ice bath shit in the emergency room as a child, thank you very much. *shivers at the thought*

This video was posted on Brain Pickings (link to your right along with lots of other fun places to visit) and while the idea reminded me of John Salvest and his ever interesting, ever political work- this is much more... dare I say it? Fun! I love this short created by a husband and wife team, and I want to live inside it. Even the music makes me happy. Go read the story at Brain Pickings as well. Loves it.

I Really Needed A Laugh Today

2012-01-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

Between the blood chilling lack of news over at SUAR and the fact that I woke up today with a case of The Curse, I really needed a good laugh. I painted, which is always nice for me, but I wasn't finding anything funny. Or even worth smiling over. Chances are I was going to skip yoga and take my sorry ass back to bed, because the world just sucks.

Then Jill posted this in the comments section and broke me out of my doldrums. I am very thankful for you today. Hope it is okay to repost it here, because I loved it. I'm saving the rest for when I need them.

Tag, I'm It!

2012-01-08T23:22:00.000-08:00

I'm a goofball, and I love this stuff. I got tagged by Magical Mom. Feel free to tag me anytime. (Oh yeah, I went there...)

-----------------------------------------
Rules:
1. Post these rules.
2. You must post 11 random things about yourself.
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.
4. Create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer.
5. Go to their blog and tell them that you have tagged them.
6. No stuff in the tagging section about ‘you are tagged if you are reading this.’ blah blah blah, you legitimately have to tag 11 people!
-----------------------------------------

11 IS WAY TOO LONG, PEOPLE! GO GET YOUR COFFEE NOW!

Rules posted. On to 11 random things about myself.

1. I overuse the word "random." Loves it. Deal. Life really is random.
2. Hubby and I have been shopping for a new couch since 2003. So far, this quest seems to involve sirens, lotus eaters, and a six headed monster. It is epic.
3. The only song I can remember from years of piano lessons is the Theme from Cheers.
4. Italian Opera? I can sing that.
5. On our first date, I told a boy not to propose to me and everything would be okay. I was sick of proposals. He is now Hubby.
6. It's weird to turn on the television and see the first guy you ever kissed. Or the first guy you ever schtupped. And that's all I have to say about that.
7. I have used up lifetime benefits with a health insurance company. American healthcare system sucks ass.
8. I grow as much of our produce as possible, but I have yet to convince Hubby that we need goats. We really do need goats, though. Maybe rabbits first?
9. I once broke my own nose with a 2x4. I am also incredibly graceful. *snort*
10. If you want me to punch somebody, give me some tequila. Watch for the left hook. Works every time.
11. I love nerds. No, really. I cannot get it up for a man unless he is smarter than me. Good thing I'm an idiot.

(All these sentences starting with "I" are kind of freaking me out.)

Random things sorted. On to the questions:

What inspired you to start your blog?
I kept reading other people's running blogs about their journeys, and I thought it would be a great way to document my failures and successes. When it dawned on me that I could combine Halloween and running into one blog- I was in. Plus there's the whole Decline of the American Empire going on, and it should be interesting later to read what I was thinking while Rome burned. No fiddle playing here.
Do you have any pets? If yes, what are they?
I have (typed hate, might be accurate...) one cat named Thomas Aquinas. He is a hellion. Imagine eighteen pounds of angry black fur wrapped around your arm biting and scratching you. This is the result of my hormone fluctuations, as he only bites me at certain points in my cycle. We think he has an Oedipal complex. Right now he is snoring next to my thigh.
What is your favorite sport to watch, and what is your favorite team?
I'm Canadian, eh? Okay, not really. But I love me some hockey. Go Canucks!
Who is your favorite actor/actress?
Have you ever read this blog? Alan Rickman.

*swoon*

What is your all-time favorite movie?
Oooooh- this is a tough one. *insert jeopardy music here* In the spirit of one I love, that doesn't quite make the cut, I give you, in no particular order: my top five all-time movies. (hat tip to High Fidelity)

#1 Xanadu- It's so bad, it's amazing. I spent my childhood roller skating around the dining room (and the parlor, and the foyer) singing this soundtrack. If you ever find yourself in need of a smile, this is the movie for you. A few groans to be had as well, but so worth it. Just don't expect any "acting."

#2 The Thomas Crown Affair (remake)- Good lord, do I like any GOOD movies? Pierce Brosnan is bloody awful (big shocker) and Denis Leary would have made a much better love interest in this film. But the freaking costuming they do for Rene Russo is enough to propel it over the top. In autumn when the temperature dips, when the real clothes finally come back out and I can stop feeling like a schlub in linen pants every single day because I have no idea what to wear in summer heat- this movie gets a play or twelve. I. Love. Every. Single. Thing. She. Wears. I've forced hairstylists to watch this in order to give me this cut. I've even emulated her beachwear. Image courtesy of Fashion Foie Gras.

#3 Trick r Treat- I've been a Halloween freak since I was a kid and my dad would let me help him make fake wounds for the Jaycee spookhouse, and this movie really encapsulates the whole thing for me. I love the visuals, I love the sound, I love the casting, I love the story- this deserved a theatrical release and those rat finks at Warner Bros knew it. *steps off soapbox* If you haven't seen this, watch it. A. Maize. Ing.

#4 Rear Window - It's not a movie I seek out often, but when I catch a glimpse of it, I cannot turn away. It doesn't hurt that James Stewart looks just like my grandfather. This is actually a bone of contention in our nerdy household, as Hubby much prefers North by Northwest and took a course in college for the chance to watch it in the theater. He's a Guy and likes action more than subtle facial expression and actual words. He is, in this case, wrong.

Since I've already gushed a bit over The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly this week, I'm going with something more modern for #5- Fight Club. Let it be known, Brad Pitt irritates the snot out of me. He seems downright stupid, and nothing chaps my ass more than stupid. But this movie transcends his stupidity. As The Gods go crazy in the economic realm, I keep reaching back to this cultural touchstone. I am a predator posing as a housepet. The first rule of fight club is to pay attention to what is happening to the world around you. The second rule of fight club is to watch this movie whenever you think you can't make a difference in it. Or at least look hot while dealing with your psychotic boyfriend.

Helena Bonham-Carter and Alan Rickman in one post?

Yeah, I'm all concupiscent too.

What made you choose your screen name?
What, you don't think it fits? *evil cackle* Okay, so I'm not really pensive lately. That is a good thing.

adjective

dreamily or wistfully thoughtful: a pensive mood.

expressing or revealing thoughtfulness, usually marked bysome sadness: a pensive adagio.

I've been at least loosely acquainted with clinical depression every day of my life since 1988. Thus a pensive day is actually a pretty good day for me. I've been hospitalized, medicated, counseled, and otherwise therapeutically mood lightened more times than you can shake a stick at. No, I'm not a danger to anyone else but myself. I've got the papers to prove it. The things that work for me? Caffeine, smiling no matter the reality of my feelings, and running. Good thing I found the running, or my screen name might fit a little better. I think the pumpkin part is pretty obvious. And alliteration is the last refuge of a tired writer. According to the experts, I get about 3 hours and 16 minutes of sleep on a given night. I'm pretty tired. Also easily amused.
Which culture in the world is most fascinating to you, and why?
All of them. Ethnocentrism is a disease as contagious as syphilis.
What is your favorite comfort food?
Anything from Pierre Herme will do, but this is divine...

This photo is of a pastry, only because the chocolate disappears too quickly...

ISPAHAN - Nougatine of raspberry and rose, enrobed with dark chocolate

When I die, this is what Heaven will taste like. If I'm invited.

What is your favorite memory with your best friend from childhood?
Our version of playing Barbies involved screaming "Off with their heads!" We were monsters.
If you could only watch 1 TV show, which one would it be?
If it were left to me, we wouldn't even have cable. I didn't, when I lived alone. *singing* Memory, all alone in the moonlight...
What is your favorite time of year and why?
Autumn. My brethren come out to play. Pumpkins of the world, unite!

Now, I love to talk about myself- but 11 seems a bit much to me. (And to you as well, I'm willing to wager...) So I'm going with 3. It's a lovely number, and it is an odd number. I adore everything a bit odd.

The three bloggers I am tagging?

Justine at Justine's Halloween
Ked from whom Something WicKed This Way Comes
Neil because, you know, All the Cool Kids Are Doing It

Eleven random things about yourself, because that part was easy. Then three questions from me, a bit more PENSIVE than the other questions, methinks:

1. What is your favorite way to celebrate a success in life?
2. How do you motivate yourself and those around you?
3. ~~Where do you see yourself in five years?~~ What is the thing (aside from your spouse, significant other, beloved, partner, human children, or furbabies) that makes you happiest in this world?

Have fun!

W1: If You're Gonna Shoot, Shoot. Don't talk.

2012-01-08T12:23:00.000-08:00

God, do I love Tuco.

gratuitous steely eyed cemetery photo. stay on target. stay on target.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is one of those movies that I can watch over and over again, and this is my favorite line. It is so incredibly true, and is my version of SUAR's Shut Up and Run, now that I think about it. "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk." is not only a classic movie rule right up there with The Virgin Lives in a horror movie, it is a great rule to live by. Just do it. Shut up and run. Stop talking shit and show your stuff.

As I was preparing my Week 1 training wrap up, the name of this film is what rang true for me. It seems that everything in life has all three: the good,the bad, and the ugly. This week was no exception.

THE GOOD:

I got all three runs in. I went to yoga on Thursday. These things are definitely good. Even better: I have found a (probably temporary) fix for my whiny bitch. *happy dance* I'm trying not to make a big thing of it since she'll probably find a way around, but for now she is damned near silent. Step one: stay away from the traditional shoes. I'm now wearing the VFFs for all runs, regardless of oddness or fashion. They're hideous. They work. I can take it. Step two: don't walk the warmup. Yeah, I know. But it has made some modicum of sense to walk at least part of my warmup, and when I didn't do it, my calf was happy. Two runs in a row. Which seems like the beginning of a pattern. Step three: do a couple of stretches about half a mile in. Seems simple enough, and I'm gonna stick with it until it stops working. With this system, I ran my longest interval yet on Saturday. Rad.

THE BAD:

My diet has been terrible. Not that I haven't had longing for some brussels sprouts or a big juicy steak. Oh, have I. More on that later. Also, my runs were not for the mileage they were scheduled for. To make matters worse, I am TERRIBLE at actually doing the workout that is scheduled. With my aversion to authority figures, who'd have thought that I'd rebel against even myself? *shrug* This will have to change.

THE UGLY:

The ugly? You wanna talk some ugly? Even I am not willing to grace you with photos of this. Yes, it is another of Pensive's Medical Mysteries. Good Lord. Remember that cold? It wasn't a cold. Turns out, according to a doctor who actually flinched when he looked down my throat, I had "major" canker sores in my throat and on the part of my tongue that goes down my throat. Yeah. I really wish they knew how I got them, but the Mayo clinic says a risk factor is being female. Fuck you, Mayo Clinic.

The clinical definition of major, by the way, is over half an inch, and there was enough inflammation to swell my throat almost shut- hence my willingness to go to the doctor with what I thought was a cold. My tongue was swelling so much it became difficult to talk. This inflammation blocked the route for normal drainage out of my sinuses, so I got a sinus infection. The fluid made it to my ears, so the doctor wasn't sure if I had an ear infection as well, or if I was just on my way. Lovely. So I got 1000mg twice a day of amoxicillin. And I've been able to eat nothing but soup all week. Plus a mushy baked potato on Saturday, just because of my longing to use a fork. Paleo soup with no chunks is kind of hard to find, and chunks in potato soup were painful to swallow. So my diet sucks. But I got my runs in, so that made me feel like a warrior.

Shootin at the walls of heartache, bang bang.

A great review of this video states:

Our protagonist also has the added bonus of looking like

Bob Geldof if he was cast to play Sweeney Todd.

This week was DEFINITELYa shoot and don't talk sort of week. I just had to go do it, once I could swallow my own freaking spit without issue. And I did. Which made me feel like even though I lost a few battles, I might eventually win the war.

30 Day Challenge

2012-01-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

I've joined a silly little 30 Day Challenge from one of my favorite local running stores, simply because it reminded me of Tall Mom's December Challenge. Since this space is all about accountability, I just wanted to post it here. Guess this means I'm going for a walk on my rest days...

Try our 30 Day Challenge - Make fitness your habit!

The challenge is simple!
Run/Walk everyday for 30 days!
Start date is January 15 - continues through February 13

Nothing fancy-no pace or distance requirements. Just get out and run, walk, swim, bike, dance, do a body workout at home, visit the gym, etc. everyday for 30 days.

What constitutes a workout? You decide. The idea is that exercise becomes something you do every day, automatically, like brushing your teeth or...drinking beer! Clinically proven to become a habit, a positive one, in your life. What do you say? You want to take the challenge don't you?

I Know It Was You, Fredo

2012-01-05T19:22:00.000-08:00

This plastic skeleton was posing in someone's car, helping out in the HOV lane. I immediately thought of all of you. Wonder why?

Haunted January - Prop Plans!

2012-01-04T08:00:00.000-08:00

As well as planning some running (just a little, really) I've been planning some haunting. I know- you thought that whole Halloween thing was gone by the wayside, didn't you?

Last year's Papier Mache experiments were fun, and I want to find a way to make that work. It will probably involve a heavier armature of some sort, though I don't want to go out and buy materials. I'm thinking about it. Maybe kitty litter containers with a little weight inside? It is windy here again today, so it reminds me- maybe more than a little weight. Maybe I can somehow use FULL containers of kitty litter with removable pumpkins on top, and then Thomas Aquinas will love me because of the backstock. He does love a freshly cleaned box.

I also want to experiment with Monster Mud for the first time this year. There are two columns at the entry to my front yard that are topped with planters. I want to make Monster Mud pumpkins that snap around said planters. Should be interesting.

Lastly, I intend to actually finish my Haunted Pipe Organ. I was close last year, but because of our trip I abandoned the project- we wouldn't be here for Halloween anyway, so what was the point? This year, I want to attract ToTs. Okay, maybe ToT. We'll see.

Overall, I am still rocking the Trick R Treat pumpkin house theme.

I love the JOL's and I see no reason to stray from what I love just because all the cool kids have awesome themes that involve pirates and crypts and animatronics. I get too much wind and rain for that, plus I have no skills. No big loss for me, because while I love looking at other people's more elaborate stuff, I prefer simplicity. I will be expanding the selection of other evil plants, but the pumpkins predominate. Also, ease of setup and teardown is a big issue that I must think about with every single idea. *shrug* I'm hoping to buy a few ceramic JoL's (I'm looking at you, Shellhawk) and get some that can hang from my giant creepy tree. I'll just need to get those up early in the month before our serious weather hits.

None of these projects will be happening any time soon, as I need good outdoor weather for them. Maybe a little papier mache, but that is it. Until then, it is mostly gardening and running around here. Which is just fine by me- I felt a bit of Halloween burnout last year from starting too early, and if I hope to attract a ToT or two, I cannot let that happen again.

Haunt on, my friends.

A New Year, A New Diet

2012-01-03T10:56:00.000-08:00

Jennifer Hudson for Weight Watchers. Suzanne Somers for Suzanne Somers (or so it would appear.) Marie Osmond, Charles Barkley, Jason Alexander- am I missing anybody? Oh, yeah- Janet Jackson for Nutrisystem. Frankly, I want to know if that's how she lost the weight all those other times too- she yo-yo diets like nothing I've ever seen.

Something gives me doubt here. If you are an actor, and yes Charles counts now regardless of his SAG card status, you're selling an image. Hence all the brou-ha-ha just over a year ago about IMDB listing birthdates and ages since knowledge of reality can skew perception for some people. You really should read that article, because Craig T. Nelson basically refers to himself as a historical figure; which made me guffaw.

What skews perception for me is when I read a character profile and they tell me, for instance, that the character Pierce Brosnan played in Bag of Bones is supposed to be 45. When I read that, it shocked me, and I had already seen the work. So just don't tell me how old the character is supposed to be and it won't be an issue, as long as he works in the role. And he did, if you're into men whose facial expressions are so similar I kept looking for outside cues as to whether he was smiling or grimacing. But I digress.

Janet really stood out to me in this year's crop of celebrity endorsements, maybe because she is just so damned beautiful that it is bound to work for the company. But I found this interesting article in BBC news magazine that discusses, of all people, Lord Byron as celebrity diet icon. Really?

celebrity hair product icon, maybe...

I must confess, I have been fiddling with my diet lately. It has nothing to do with Janet Jackson, and nothing to do with getting meals delivered to my house or subsisting on weird candy bar things. I like real food, and when I'm not living on Jello, I like cooking real food.

What have I done? I bought a Paleo cookbook. While I don't think Paleo is full on the answer, probably because I like to bake bread and that is just too much of a sacrifice, I do think it has some good ideas. Your body evolved to eat certain things, and you should feed it more of those things. Very Michael Pollan. I find that when I eat processed food my body reacts like it is in starvation mode, regardless of how many calories I consume. It want nutrients, not fillers. If I just give it the nutrients it requires, then I stop craving a lot of the other things I have been conditioned to think of as food. Just having more options of healthy things to cook is always a good idea.

For some reason I felt led to more closely incorporate a book I read several years ago into my diet. I'm not playing hide the ball here, I just felt like it was a good idea. Anticancer is an awesome book about the power of diet to help the body fight cancer itself. We all have cancer cells inside us, and only some people actually go beyond the microtumor phase. This book has an interesting theory why, and encourages people to incorporate certain fresh foods and spices into every meal in an effort to help the body's amazing systems do their jobs. This isn't really a diet. It's not about losing weight at all. But if I eat more brussels sprouts and less white flour that can't be a bad thing, right?

If you go to the site you'll see that the author died last year of the cancer that inspired the book. He'd had brain cancer for twenty years. This initial tumor was found when David Servan-Schreiber, a research physician studying the brain, stood in for a volunteer no-show in one of his team's imaging experiments with the early use of MRIs to detect brain activity in the prefrontal cortex. He stood in at the last minute so their time with the machine would not be wasted, and his research partners found a walnut sized tumor in his brain. Amazing.

I want you to read the book if it interests you, so I won't say any more. But this is the diet I'm on. It is pretty easy, as when I'm not incorporating another food from the plan into a meal I can just add green tea. But you have to do this at every meal, no exceptions. As he puts it, cancer doesn't take the day off. So you have to refuse to feed it.

Maybe I won't lose weight. Oh well. There is very little chance I will be as pretty as Janet Jackson either, but I am a grown up and I've learned to live with that. The quick fixes get pretty people on television, and the lifestyle changes get a pretty doctor who changes his entire course of study in order to get this right for people. Function over form, even though the form works out okay too. And no yo-yo diet to come down from before next New Year.

Pensive's First Race Report

2012-01-02T14:18:00.000-08:00

I should have known.

I should have known that the Gods were against me when I woke up Friday morning, planning to get in one last run before my first ever "race." I'm calling it a "race" even though I didn't have to register, it wasn't timed, and I managed to convince Hubby to do the same distance with me by calling it a Loop Around the Lake. Frankly I just wanted to beat him. He is a nicer person than I am, and the letter of recommendation for his next wife is in my bedside drawer.

PRE-RACE:

Back to Friday.

'Cause you ain't got no job, and you ain't got shit to do...

I woke up Friday morning with the dreaded sore throat. The kind of sore throat that is much worse on the downward side, the one you've been laying on. The sore throat that only means one thing: drainage. Gross. My energy level dropped hour by hour as the day wore on, and by mid-afternoon Niagra Falls wasn't just falling on the Canadian side (throat interior) it was also flowing out the handle on the front of my face. AKA my nose. It was exceptionally sexy, and it made it very unlikely that I would get laid at any point of the New Year's Weekend.

Image

Going to the Post Office made me dizzy. I was craving bean burritos and Frappachinos and other ios as well. None of these are part of my normal diet, even when I feel like being terrible. Shit was not looking good. I could not just take some Dayquil or whatever it is the kids take nowadays because I was evil in a past life and I'm being punished with lack of decongestants or antihistamines and in particular pseudoephedrine- the only thing that actually works. Sucks. So, like the incredibly serious runner I am, I ~~went out for my run anyway~~ decided to focus on my non-race day outfit. Because that is important in a Fun Run where there are no photos and I'm really just hoping to not stand out too much. Yeah. *face meet palm*

I then proceeded to spend Friday night on the couch asking questions like "Are you hot?" and "Is it hot in here?" before finally realizing I must have a fever (how many graduate degrees does it take...) and scrounging around for some Advil. Gatorade, vegetable quesadilla soup, gummy bears, and several years worth of Run Bitch Run since I am an idiot and just found this and WOW IS SHE AWESOME I WANT TO BE HER WHEN I GROW UP, SLOWNESS AND ALL!!! *crushy crush crush crush* were the general theme of the weekend.

Do you sense where this is going? Will the pumpkin wuss out?

*insert big, fat NO here, as I am too damn tired to do it myself*

THE RACE:

Don't I just look happy to be there? *snort*

We get to the location, we see people hanging out and drinking coffee and socializing like normal humans, and I immediately ask Hubby, "Do you want to go ahead and start? I mean, we're here..." But since this defeats the entire purpose of doing races to get over pre-race jitters and get me used to ~~human interaction~~ what it is like to race, Hubby gives me "the look" and we proceed to hang out with everyone else. I talk to the dogs, not the people. Old habits die hard. Why I am so freaking shy, I have no idea.

Lots of perfectly nice people,

standing around making me nervous.

The run begins, and I of course am not warmed up at all since it is butt ass cold. Once again, it takes my whiny bitch two miles to warm up so clearly short distances are never going to be my strong suit. I spent the majority of the race with Hubby, who was booking and almost race walking, and when I would run for awhile I then waited for him to catch up which kind of negated the whole running thing. I need to learn how to just run my own race, I guess, instead of worrying what everyone else is doing. Lesson learned.

Running on an actual trail in my VFFs was a new experience, and I could feel the changes in terrain pretty clearly. Part of the trail was large smooth river stones, part was muddy and rooty, part was gravel, and part was paved. Lots of sensations. But that was only after my feet warmed up enough to not be numb from cold. Hubby enjoyed making fun of me because I ran up every single incline, and down most of the hills, but I stayed pretty walky on the flats. My legs prefer running up or downhill, it would seem- and I think I can put this information to good use. The times when my whiny bitch causes the most problems? Flat terrain. Interesting... never realized that before.

People I enjoyed passing:

Guy in Ragnar Sweatshirt who clearly knew this was a Fun Run
Girl in WonderWoman costume
Man in top hat and tails.

People I did not enjoy being passed by:

Jeans clad old lady racewalker with a discman in her hand.

My time was pretty blah due to the leg pain/leaky face/poor ability to leave Hubby on course. I almost exactly matched my current best 5k time, yet the course was 2.77 miles. Yeah. Pretty sucky. My run times are getting faster, though, and my fastest pace was 8:07. I'd LOVE LOVE LOVE to be able to keep that up, and maybe one day I will, since the only problem at that pace was that after a bit my lungs started coming up out of my body and wanted to live on the side of the trail. But I showed up, fever and snot and all, and I did it. And I must admit- for the next several hours, I felt much better than I'd felt in several days. Must remember the healing effect of a bad run next time I am down with a cold.

POST RACE:

This was the funny bit, as after the race was a Polar Bear Dip. Hysterical. A few photos of that, to reward you for reading this monstrosity of a Race Report.

I did not partake in the dip, as my cardiologist would throw a FIT if I surprised my system with water that was "a balmy 44 degrees Fahrenheit!" at noon. Wowzers. But everyone seemed to have a great time.

Today, a day later, I am still sick. Drinking warm Jello and otherwise taking it easy. But I am so glad I did this, and I cannot wait until I actually have a GOOD race. I didn't want to waste the good race on a fun run. ; )

Auld Lang Syne

2011-12-31T20:09:00.001-08:00

The Plan

2011-12-30T01:28:00.000-08:00

drumroll please...

I have done a lot of work on this plan, but I also recognize that other people know TONS more than I know. If you have input, please feel free to provide it- that is, after all, why I'm putting this out there. That and a buttload of accountability, given that the internet is forever. *wonders if they know this was her plan in starting a blog all those months ago*

This is a VEDDY VEDDY detailed account of my plan and how I got there, so if you are not nerdy and angst ridden enough about these things to care about minute levels of detail- you can just substitute any random Half Marathon training plan in your mind and skip the rest of this post. It would be pretty darn similar, I am sure. Welcome to Costco. I love you.

Brawndo: the foundation of any good training plan

The Sources of Inspiration:

John Bingham. Yeah, cue the Penguin love. But I am totally into the idea that I can actually HAVE FUN doing this. There are a lot of Penguin related ideas involved in the plan like listening to my body and doing whatever it takes to get to the Starting line and so on. I have actually color coded my workouts (so nerdy) so I know at a glance if I am dealing with something I can blow off or something I really need to do no matter what. I want to listen to my body. Absolutely. Mostly I will be pushing through on long runs, and I am willing to sacrifice any and all pace goals for those runs in order to make sure the distance is met. Remember the goals? 1. Cross the finish line. 2. Unassisted. 3. Within the time limit. Number three is number three for a reason. I have to have fun, and if that means slowing down then I am okay with that.

I'm also a big fan of Brain Training for Runners by Matt Fitzgerald so there are bits and pieces of that thrown in as well. I feel like this plan in its entirety applies more to people who have a base at a distance and want to get faster. But that's just my perception. I love the idea of using biofeedback (which has been great for me with my heart issues) and proprioceptive cues in order to make my brain believe I can do this, so I'll be working in the specific workouts from this book.

"Proprioceptive cues are images and other sensory cues that enable you to modify your stride for the better as you think about them while running."

Knowing what physiological processes cause my cardiac symptoms has helped me immensely, so all the science in this book gives me knowledge that feels useful. I find myself re-reading bits and pieces of it over and over. I'm also enamoured with Fitzgerald's ways of giving the brain the idea that it can allow me to keep going and I won't overdo it. This fits into my bizarre notion of conquering the distance repeatedly before I need to race the distance, and it fits into the things I know about my brain and how it holds me back. My brain is evil and must be corralled, and I think this will help. This book is really the grand scheme of my plan, whereas the Penguin is the psychology of implementation.

Another inspiration, and the daily meat and potatoes of my plan, is the book Run Less Run Faster. This advocates the idea of running three quality workouts a week (track repeats, a long run, and a tempo run) and combining that with cross training. Brain Training also involves a lot of cross training, so the two dovetail quite nicely. This appeals to me because I know I'm pushing my luck to start a real distance training plan with less than a year of short little base miles under my belt, and I don't want to court any overuse injuries. *knock on wooden head* I'm starting with yoga as cross training (shut up, it can be really hard and I wouldn't know balance if it bit me on the ass so this will be great for my stabilizer muscles) and adding kickboxing back in as soon as I figure out where my favorite instructor wandered off to. If I cannot find her, I have a bag and some gloves so I can do that myself. Hubby loves it when I punch things behind him while he is watching television. It makes him feel all safe and secure inside his own home, knowing his wife can kick his ass and the ass of any intruders. Also, kickboxing makes sense to me again because the criminal who wants to kill my husband is being released from prison in February and I want to be ready for him if when he shows up at our door.

You break into my house, you convicted felon,

and I will end you. I mean it.

You've never met a woman as mean as me.

The Brass Tacks:

I'm planning to run three solid workouts a week in the beginning, each with a different overall aim and (largely) a different pace. The scheduling is different from how most people do it, but because Hubby is not into this stuff I really don't want to take time away from him on more weekends than necessary. In addition, I am self employed and therefore can move my work schedule around my training schedule. This may not always be the case, but I've chosen to do so for at least the next five months. We shall see after that, because it will take a bit of doing on my part.

Sunday is a rest day. Come on, even the Good Lord took Sunday off. ; )

My Speed workouts are on Mondays so I am rested and ready to begin the week of training. These will probably not be during the day, but in the evening or at night. I have access to an actual high school track at night so frankly that will work best when weather permits. If not, I will run these on the treadmill so I can accurately gauge what I'm doing. At first these workouts are very short, very high intensity efforts then they slowly increase in duration over the course of the plan while coming down in intensity. According to the Brain Training model, this teaches you to run faster but at your goal race pace, not at a 5k pace. It also gives your body and brain time to assimilate the progress you made by doing this early in the training cycle. Makes sense to me.

Tuesday is for cross-training. This means yoga, because I feel like my whiny bitch of a right calf is largely due to inflexibility in that general area. I am notorious for this, and was not even able to reach past my toes until I started yoga several years ago. The first day I could fold my hands under my feet and stand with knees straight, I actually opened champagne when I got home. Yeah. Pathetic. Chances are this will stay a strictly yoga day if the timing of my other workouts does not change.

My long runs (what Fitzgerald calls extensive endurance workouts) are scheduled for Wednesdays, and this is my biggest question with my plan. I want the long run during the week so as I add miles later I don't lose time with Hubby *everybody groans because this is so sickly sweet* and if his schedule this semester of teaching holds true to last semester he will have an evening class on both Monday and Wednesday nights. I do, however, question my ordering of workouts. Thoughts on this, for those who are reading this closely, would be really appreciated. I can easily switch these around. This is the one where I'm willing to sacrifice pace for endurance.

Thursday is a big day in my plan, which seems counterintuitive given that Wednesday is the long run. Again, feel free to call me out if this seems crazy. I really want my legs to know how to run at race pace when they are exhausted, so as of right now my Tempo runs are scheduled for the day after my long runs. I know this is nuts. I know. Trust me, I know. But I am actually keeping these runs a little on the short side for most of the plan. When mileage needed to come off for a cutback week, I mostly took it here. It is my understanding that tempo runs work out best when from 3-6 miles, so that's where they peak. On weeks when my long run is a breakthrough distance, I cut back the distance for the tempo run. Some weeks (notably when I am scheduled to cover the whole Half Marathon distance) I actually specified it as a recovery walk instead. Like I said above, the whole Wednesday/Thursday conundrum has haunted me throughout the process of devising this plan so speak up if this seems unconscionable, crazy, masochistic, or just plain dumb. I'm all ears. This is the run I am most likely to abandon or cut short in most weeks of the plan. But I REALLY hope to train my legs to run at race pace when they'd rather just lay down and die.

The other reason Thursday is big is that it is yoga day number two. Two days of yoga a week seems to be enough to keep me pretty limber under normal circumstances, and I hope that continues to be the case through this training plan. I don't think my body will mind yoga after a Tempo run, assuming I can allow enough time between. Currently my schedule would seem to allow that.

Friday is definitely a rest day. There is a yoga class at the gym that I can squeeze in should I need it, but I'd rather take it as complete rest.

On Saturday things get interesting. There are a lot of Saturdays with blank spots in the current plan- mostly at the beginning. All of the tune up races that I plan to run are on Saturdays, and I've got at least one of those a month. Yeah, I know. I don't plan to "train" for a single one, and I don't anticipate great times accruing. I just want to work out as many of my "Oh My God I have to run in front of people and I am so ungodly slow and what will they think of me?!" nerves as possible before my key races, and this seems like the best method for doing so. I am starting with races where I am unlikely to know anyone, and working my way toward places where I can run with friends and neighbors. I'm a basket case. Deal with it. It gives me great comfort to know that Joan Benoit Samuelson, when she first started running, would actually stop and pretend to be picking flowers when cars drove by her she was so embarrassed. I've looked for flowers to pick. There are none. I pretend to tie my shoes.

Other Saturday activities include an extra run as my mileage increases, a day of more serious cross training which may include water running or kickboxing or kayaking, or a hike with Hubby. We did not get to hike much at all in 2011, and we are both itching to see some trails. Yes, I'd probably break into a run now and again. Yes, I still count that as cross training. I just want to be able to use Saturday as a day off when necessary (probably when my long run gets really long) or as an extra training day. It's my flex day.

My big unresolved question has to do with fueling these days. I will hydrate, yes. Pensive and electrolytes are BFFs and I won't be surviving long without them. I buy nuun by the box, I shit you not. I've read that going without carbs for some long runs is good training for the body, but that performance suffers. Brain Training also talks about how you can get a large part of the reward of carbs just by swishing sugary sports drink in your mouth. *shrug* I think I'll have to work this part out as I go along, but any thoughts are (again) appreciated. My current long run fuel involves nuun as desired and about 10 gummy bears every two miles. Whatever that means.

So there you have it, in excruciating detail. I tried not to reinvent the wheel here since I know thousands upon thousands of people have done this, but I know my strengths and my weaknesses, so I wanted to incorporate that knowledge in my plan.

What do you think? Oh, and if you read all that- you are my idol. Or my stalker. Or my mother. Thanks, regardless of which you are. * curtsy*

I am a Libra. I don't make decisions.

2011-12-29T16:52:00.000-08:00

Santa brought be an AWESOME OPOSSUM journal this year, and since I am journaling my stringy pumpkin heart all over this blog, I am torn: training journal where I keep things like distance and pace and what shoes I wore and where I ran, or gardening journal where I keep what I planted and when and where it went and how well it did? I need new journals for each, but this one is so freaking awesome that I cannot decide which of my loves should be blessed with it. Thoughts?

The whole "venting" thing could apply to either.

Stupid whiny bitch. Stupid slugs.

Also, if you are into chocolate (who am I kidding?) and you are into Tabasco, run out to Cost Plus and buy some of this because it is fantastic and just a little bit is enough and the container is a metal thing about the size of a drink coaster and you can make über awesome crafts with it after the chocolate is gone. Oh yeah. That's an umlaut. Because I'm cool like that.

I was planning to go to yoga tonight, but then I remembered it is a week between two holidays and my instructor likes to send in the Hated Replacement at times like this. So I shall be Run Noir. Cannot. Believe. I am starting my training plan next week. *butterflies*

A New Year

2011-12-27T23:31:00.000-08:00

As 2011 draws to a close and I read all your great wrap-up posts and goal posts, I cannot help but think about what I have accomplished this year.

I ran.

It's really that simple for me. The girl who lived in a world full of "No!" decided to say "Yes!" Screw the world. The lines of the haters can get cut in the re-write.

I took my first steps as a runner on May 2, 2011. I'd never run a step before that, truth be told. I jogged to first base a time or two, and maybe all the way home. I did laps in volleyball when I acted like we were playing on sand instead of a basketball court, but frankly I walked those. The only times I recall ever really RUNNING were when I worked at a Girl Scout camp and we were pretty sure a bear was creating a life or death situation, and another time when a camper was literally dying of sun poisoning. I had never voluntarily run anywhere.

My house was littered with John Bingham's books, because it seemed like it would be fun to be a runner. I owned a couple of "Any Idiot Can Tear a Muscle Running a Marathon They Haven't Trained Properly For" type books, and liked to read them in the bath while dreaming of having someone else's heart and someone else's legs somehow attached to my body like Gene Wilder was involved.

I now possess said someone else's heart, and it likes running a lot more than mine did that day in May. I now possess someone else's legs as well, if the glimpses I get in the gym mirrors are any indication. I now possess someone else's training plan- but I am working hard to establish ownership of that regardless of what silly cute boys who work in running stores think.

Stay tuned in 2012 for the re-write. I've blocked out the time for the training, I'm gathering the motivation, and all I need now is a female lead. I've got a girl in mind.

Soldiering on into 2012. My goals? 1. Finish line 2. Unassisted 3. Under the time limit. Frankly I don't even care if that happens in Portland, I just want it to happen. How's that for a big improvement over this time last year? I'd say it's pretty fucking awesome.

Happy New Year, Y'all! I love you ******THIS MUCH!!!!!******