Aug 31, 2007


it's official. i just registered for the marathon. i remember this moment last year: the anxiety upon clicking that final button was so palpable i needed a paper bag to breathe into.

and so, i just repeated the whole process again -
and like the wednesday nights when i get a little OCD about checking my alarm
so i don't miss my big dog pickup: was that am or pm? --

i did the same with my registration ... ok, all set.
wait -this is the COLUMBUS marathon site, yes? ok yes.
c-o-l-o-m-b-u-s. ok. good. check again. c-o-l-u-m-b-u-s.
and the marathon circle is checked? not the half.
marathon. marathon. m-a-r-a-t-h-o-n.
not the half. marathonmarathonmarathon.
ok! go! click that button!

50 days left. i didn't need a paper bag. not yet anyway.

Aug 30, 2007

weekly ass-kicking

so i'm running with the big dogs this morning
and i'm thinking - way too soon into this run,
that they feel fast. that, or i feel slow.
and i'm ok. and hanging on. sort of. barely.
but then
and this is before the halfway water stop.
i get to the water fountain & coach asks how i am.
and i say i'm not really feeling the love.
and my heartrate is holding steady at mile repeat heartrate.
he says he'll hang with me & we can take it down.
thank you.
and we start again. and i can stay with him. and chat. but barely.
i look at my watch & see heartrate still holding steady at sky high.
and i think if we are taking it down a notch, i'm in trouble.
a 10 minute pace would be nice. walking would be nice. can i walk?
hey! i have a great idea ... how about i sit here on this curb, you go get your car, come get me - pour my sorry ass into the backseat so i can pass out on the way home.
yeah. that's a cool plan.
but shit, i'm still running.
past the bakery where the buttery smell makes me want to puke.
and then, i can't even keep up with coach & he's gone.
i'm thrilled though, when i look at watch & realize i only have 15 more minutes.
but still. i'm tempted at the intersection to turn left, and my 15 minutes could turn into a mere 5. no. i can't do that. that would be shameful.
and then i wonder if the run would be better if my mantra wasn't
this run is kicking my ass
where did they go? i think they went up this street.
i'm almost there. it's almost over.
and it's ok. cause i'll always have last week. when i hung on. the whole time.
another square crossed off the schedule. another day closer.
the best part?
tomorrow is a rest day.

Aug 29, 2007

pool running rocks!

i got myself a new pool running partner.
it arrived a couple of days ago & i found myself actually
looking forward to my wednesday pool run.
it's called an otter box and i can put my ipod shuffle in it and swim with it and it doesn't get wet and i'm in love. singy, happy, dancy, pool running love.

you need one. you want one. here's my psa on the whole thing:

it doesn't come with earphones/earbuds ... you buy those seperately. but, i learned after both things arrived, that you can use any headphones with it.

the case is plastic, the little thing that plugs into shuffle is inside case & its got some rubbery stuff around the opening to seal everything off. i tried it out when i took an ice bath after sunday's long run. all systems were a go.

so, i'm at the pool, i've got the shuffle in my top with my boobs. sadly, the shuffle makes a bigger impression. yes. the width of the ipod shuffle, in the case, is bigger than boobs. ok, so moving on . it would start to slip out of my top now & then - i was thinking that if i attached a leash to it & tied said leash to the back of my top, it could just follow me. like a dinghy. note to self: put it in an armband next time.

i slip into pool & shit eating grin does not leave my face for several laps. i'm so thrilled and amused by how fun it is to have tunes in the pool that i can barely contain my excitement. i struggled to refrain from singing along. no doubt, that would have really disturbed the lifeguard.

it works like a charm. and you can get to all the controls without opening it. which obviously, would defeat the whole purpose. the only thing i haven't figured out is how to actually get it on or off once its in the case. there is a little rubber thingy that you push in & is meant to enable you to use that slide thingy on the back of shuffle to turn it on, but i can't get it to work. but neither can my very techy 11 year old son, so that makes me feel better.

after my pool run was over - i thought i'd see if it worked while swimming. i think a swim cap is needed to keep ear things in place - at least for me it was ... i put cap on, dunked under ... and the heavens opened & angels sang - only i couldn't hear them because i was under water. with music in my ears. will wonders never cease!

i did a few happy, swimmy laps & while every now and then there might be more bass, or one ear thingy fades out, it totally rocks. tunes = good pool mojo.

i could learn to like swimming.

Aug 28, 2007


ca·thar·sis: noun. A release of emotional tension, as after an overwhelming experience, that restores or refreshes the spirit

also known as mile repeats.

i left the house this morning and didn't feel at all good about the task that lay ahead. i had stayed up too late, i had 2 glasses of wine last night - which at this point in training, is two too many. and i was stressed to the max. only i didn't really know exactly how stressed i really was. not until after my first lap.

i slowly started down my street & thought this workout would end
with me throwing up or quitting, or both.
i did the slow 1.2 mile warmup to the start.
i stood at the yellow line that marked the beginning of my mile lap
i do not want to do this, i do not want to do this
and i paced circles in front of the line. for too long.
and then i just went ...

a mile is a long thing.
long enough to think about the things that you are trying not to think about.
the things that are beyond your control.
the things that happen to people you love & you try to help, you want to help but you don't know how. and you are so mad anyway that they, and now you, are in this position - you think you can push it aside & not care, and instead - just be angry.

a mile is long enough to channel all the angry energy into speed.
but it somehow doesn't feel speedy ... i feel slow.
why am i so slow?
it's ok ... i'll chalk it up to bad mojo.
i'm out here, and that's going to have to be good enough for today.
i don't even know what my legs are doing.
i feel like i am sleeping.
and dreaming of running.
the angry goes away a little.
mile one is over.
i nailed the target pace. how the hell did that happen?
i gave up a half mile back.
and then the next surprise:
the flood of tears that i was powerless to stop.
so there i am, in the middle of the street, thankful for the cover of darkness - sobbing.
i sort of wonder where the hell it came from, but i know its' been a couple of months' in the making. nothing like a little marathon training to bring out the stuff you don't want to deal with.

and so i start the madness all over again. another lap. and then another.
each lap started with the same mantra:
i do not want to do this i do not want to do this.
each lap ended in tears.
each lap hit the target.

and then, it was over.
a little weight had been lifted.
a little spirit had been refreshed.

Aug 27, 2007

louisville ironman photos

a quick post to let anyone know who might be interested in finding and ordering photos of themselves or a friend who competed in the 2007 Louisville Ironman Triathlon this past Sunday, August 26th ... click here! even if you didn't compete or know someone who did - the pictures are completely inspirational - which seems to be my theme of the past couple of days - and worth a look!

full disclosure, the fine print, blahblahblah: i did not take these photos. i do not recieve compensation of any kind for shouting out the praises of these photos. they just happen to be a perfect showcase of the recently dicovered gift of a keen eye & amazing photography skills of my bff. which is what makes the pictures look so great. they look like your best friend was out there looking for you & when you biked or ran by - she got a great shot!

Aug 26, 2007


i have finally risen from my post 16 mile nap. i've discovered that i have some really crazy dreams while in this stupor. and i think i wrote this whole post in my dream, but i woke up & thought it was a good one. because i've been thinking lately about what inspires me; what inspires any of us to do this thing we do ... this running thing. something has to keep us going when the sheer love & bliss aren't there on any given day & we've got to somehow get through speedwork, or 16 miles, or more. so, here's what inspires me.

first & foremost, i think, is my friend & former running partner. she was diagnosed with a brain tumor a few weeks ago. it was attacking the part of her brain that affected one of her legs - and thus - her running. she had brain surgery a week after her diagnosis ... and rode her bike to the hospital. if this wasn't inspirational enough in & of itself, a day after surgery, she was doing laps around the nurses station with the goal of the next night being breaking her pr & going for three laps.

i think of her now when i am doing mile repeats, when it starts to hurt & i want to slow down ... but i think if she can walk laps around the nurses station a day after brain surgery, i can make it to that lampost, and then the next one, and then the finish.

i mapped this mornings' 16 mile run to go through downtown so i could see the start of the ironman swim. watching these athletes of all shapes & sizes and all ages; file down to the water, to the end of the pier, and jump into the ohio river; and seeing their cheering friends and family with homemade t-shirts annoucing their pride in their ironman or woman gave me chills & totally made me a little teary.

so in mile 15 on today's run, i was so close to home - but i desperately wanted to stop. i had had a great run, but was just tired. i wanted it to be over. and i stopped. for about 30 seconds. and then, i thought about all the people still swimming in that water & thought about how much further they all still had to go. and after watching the kona ironman on tv a few weeks ago & finding myself sobbing at the end, and thinking that is just the coolest club ever, that i might someday, want to be a part of. so, you don't stop a half mile from your house. you just keep going.

and my blogfriend vickie - who i had the pleasure of actually meeting in real life yesterday & with whom i enjoyed a sandwich, a beer & a couple hours of nothing but running chit chat. i love reading her blog, beacuse i just think - i want to be her when i grow up. i just want to be able to say, i'm a grandmother and i do triathlons, or marathons, or ultras, or whatever the hell i hope to god i am still able to do when i am a grandmother. vickie has overcome a bunch of obstacles & just keeps coming back to this thing she loves. she never gives up & she's just always out there, doing her thing. conquering her fears along the way.

this running blog community that i am part of. i love reading everyone's stories ...(and spend a shameful amount of time doing so) accounts of races & training - from the heartbreaking to the hysterical, the DNF's to the PR's. reading about the obstacles we all face in terms of family or job stresses, injuries, etc ... everyone keeps going. i used to think i had the market cornered on this love for running. i thought no one could possibly love it as much as i do. but if no one else loved it, then what on earth would i read?

and i'd like to think i have a little hand in my own inspiration as well. i've made progress in the last year or so. the things i can accomplish now & the way i feel about myself as a result were never a part of my mind-set years ago. and so knowing how far i've come & entertaining thoughts of how far i'd like to go ... the things i'd still like to accomplish inspire me to keep going on those days when the bliss is absent.

there's more, but they're the most important & so i'll save the really gushy words about how my family & my coach inspire me for after the marathon - cause this is starting to feel a little bit like, "i'd like to thank the academy" and i hear the music playing. time to get off the stage.

your turn. what inspires you, mile after mile?

Aug 24, 2007

the beauty of a day off

i never really knew how much i needed a day off from training until one was put on my schedule.

i’ve always had one easy day a week … a 3 mile run, yoga or laps. but every day has been filled with a workout – the words REST or OFF have never been part of the workout vocabulary on the schedule.

i liked it this way.
days off made me a little wiggy.
like my muscles would atrophy or something.

but i had been feeling sluggish on my runs … and i worried that i should be faster. and my two cross training bike days just felt like a total wash … i dreaded getting on the bike. i was exhausted the minute i did & just felt like i didn’t have anything to give – which frustrated me further. i was perfectly content with being slow as hell & struggling on the hills. ok – i was not at all content with struggling on the hills, but i think i’ve painted a picture of the laziness i was feeling on the bike – i didn’t even want to eat hills for breakfast. and that made me sad.

and so, in my panic of i'm-tired-on-the-bike-and-i-am-not-running-fast-enough-shouldn’t-i-be-faster-do-i-need-to-be-doing-speedwork? i sent an email to coach – asking, essentially, just that. and in a be careful what you wish for sort of way – i did indeed get speedwork added to schedule in the form of 3 x 1 mile repeats – at a target pace that had me in a panic.

i got a bike day subtracted, for which i was overjoyed, because as far as i was concerned i had lost all the mojo i had worked so hard getting for 4 months & i was pissed. saying goodbye to a bike day was easy.

and so, because of the speed workout that replaced the ride, and my thursday mornings at the races, (a.k.a. big dog run) -- i got the addition of a day off. a real, honest to goodness day where it says OFF on my schedule. and while i was excited about this i secretly worried that it would make me wiggy. i wondered what i would do if i didn’t have to get up at 4:30, and i didn’t have to spend any time after my run stretching, rolling, showering. my god – if i wasn’t pulling on running shorts & a top, what would i wear?

so last friday, my husband let me sleep in … he did the 2 hour, get three kids out the door & onto two different buses routine. i got up & put on real clothes, and i went about my day. i didn’t even think about running, or not running.

and the next day – i woke up bright & early and got on the bike for a ride with my husband – and my mojo was back. i felt great … not even the slightest bit tired. and i wanted to eat the hills for breakfast again & i was happy. i could still do it. and when tuesdays’ mile repeats came around, i blew the target paces right out of the water – the same ones i thought there was no way i’d hit. they’ve now been lowered, and while i worry (a little bit) all over again that i won’t hit them – this rest day thing is magic mojo; because when i ran with the big dogs yesterday, i not only started the run with them, but i finished the run with them. no bringing up the rear. i mean sure, my heartrate was sky high & i think i was 5% away from collapsing (post on snazzy new watch and that's how i know about that 5% thing coming soon) ... but i didn't. i think it was the day off.

so it was a good week. the week before? not so much … so whether it was the day off that made last week so good, i don’t really know … but i’m gonna go with it. i get too intense over the quality of my workouts, the speeds, etc … i think my brain thanked me for the rest & then rewarded me. i’m sure the next 57 days has a lot in store for me in terms of good workouts, bad workouts … but hopefully fridays off will serve its purpose in keeping me from getting too nutty about it all.

Aug 22, 2007

PLEASE! do not disturb the lifeguard

this was the sign i stared at and read over & over again during my solo one hour pool run.
it was look at that sign, or look at the clock.
and i could not look at the clock.
do not look at the clock. do not. look at that clock.
oh for the love of god, what did you look at the clock for?
ok, if the next time you look at the clock it’s on temperature,
you have to do 3 more laps before you can look again

i’m all alone.
my pregnant pool running buddy went and had her baby.
sheesh. the nerve.
i’m surprised she didn’t have it in the pool last week … she did a little groan, went underwater for a minute & the lifeguard got out of his chair and stood at the edge of the pool watching her … and looking back, i wondered if that would have disturbed the lifeguard – having to deliver a baby.

so i know going into the workout that i’m on my own.
and i’m optimistic that it won’t be so bad.
and this is against my nature – to be optimistic.
so i get in the pool and I daresay it was chilly …
not the butt warm bath it has been in recent weeks.
and i play games with the clock
and i figure out how many words i can get out of the word PLEASE!
and i count the pennants in the banner hanging over the pool.
and i wonder what the lifeguard thinks, because i think i must look like a freak.

i think my optimism paid off.
it wasn’t the lonely misery i thought it would be.
turns out, i can really entertain myself.
but still. it’s really nice to have company.
a pool running partner.
so maybe, with all the money I am saving on massage,
this could be my new partner.

Aug 20, 2007

scarlet letters

i cheated on my massage therapist today.

on the advice of my coach a few months back, while still well ensconced in the pain in the ass (pun sort of intended) that was my injury & in an effort to get out of it … i went to see his massage therapist.

and i totally fell in love.

i never really thought I’d be one for massage – but I also don’t mind admitting I was wrong. once you’ve had one, you can’t go back to that place again where you never had them. so i’d go see her – and wince in pain as she twisted the ropy muscles in my back that sent shooty pains down my ass. and i’d hold back the tears while she dug her elbow into my quads & hip … & i’d do that deep find-your-happy-place-find-your-happy-place breathing because it all hurt. in that hurt so good sort of way.

but she was expensive. i wanted to go more often.
i wanted to see her all the time. it was massage love.
but until I can get sponsored for this running habit, i just couldn’t justify it.

so my pool running buddy tells me about her girl & how I must go see her … and I ask how much and I almost drowned when she told me – a good $20 less and she’ll cut you deals the more often you go! I did the math (not my strong suit – doing math while running in pool recovering from sticker shock – the good kind) … I could do 2 visits with new girl for the price of one with old girl. omg… the heavens opened & the angels were singing.

give me her number.

so, today i meet my new girl. i fill out the form. why am I here? Uh … marathon maintenance. yeah. Marathon maintenance – that sounds perfectly good.

i go in, we chat – she wants a little background … I’m feeling guilty already … I’ve gone over my background with my first girl – she already knew everything. Its’ so hard to start over, to tell your stories all over again. it’s a new relationship, but without that flutter of newness … she’s too perky for me. it throws me off. i’m not good in the face of perkiness. there isn’t the instant connection i had with my first love. but my muscles and my wallet tell me to just do this. i go over all my banal hip, back, leg shit – but am quick to say that it is all fine now i have been running pain free for at least 6 weeks thank you very much I am just here to keep everything in a happy place.

and i don’t say; mostly i am here because you are cheaper.

she asks what type of massage i want – i’m thinking huh?
i have a choice? what kind of place is this?
she clarifies to explain – do I want more of a relaxing massage or therapeutic.

i say, i’m not here to relax … so i guess i want the therapeutic.
she asks what my threshold for pain is … i say high.

5 minutes in … i wonder when she’s really going to get down to business, cause my toes don’t really need any loving right now. and whatever she is doing to my calves is so not gonna cut it. i’m regretting that i am cheating on my other girl … cause I know by now her elbow would be digging into my quads … and i’m about to say something when she asks, how’s the pressure?

you could go harder.
how’s this?
little harder
….and this makes me feel a little slutty.

and she’s talking. to me. about her. and i think, i’m not here to chat. so unless you have something to say about one of the muscles that you are finally wrenching under your elbow, i don’t want to chat. my other girl would know that once we’re 15 minutes in – i’m done with the chit chat. i am missing her.

but now that she’s really doing what i am paying her to do and i can wince and deep breathe my way through this - it feels good and is in fact relaxing and i forget that i’m cheating. i mean, she’s doing all the same stuff. if only she’d stop talking i could just pretend it’s my first love.

bottom line – she’s cheaper which means i can do this every other week. so even without the running sponsorship I can justify this.

until of course, I bump into my first massage girl who lives at the end of my street & my slutty shameful feelings all come back.

i feel like i should have a shirt with big red words “massage cheater” on it.

Aug 16, 2007

she who runs with big dogs

i can still run with the big dogs.

after a 14 week hiatus of running with this group, i didn't know this would be the case. i had freaked myself out (this is a recurring theme - i can freak myself out like nobody's business) --worrying about the paces i had heard they were running; and thinking about my last run with the group, a week after the mini marathon - which was less than stellar ... and the following week of having to bow out, knowing that if i went, my leg/hip/back might never speak to me again. i had no idea that day that it would be 14 weeks before i would run with this group again. by then, my nameless injury was in full force - trying to keep up with the big dogs was not an option & the runs were officially off my schedule.

a big dog run is an ass-kicking, shit hard workout. for me. a race pace run, every thursday at 5am ... the runs were a blur of trying to keep up, wanting to stop, cry or both ... but always happy at the end that for the most part - save for that elusive last mile or so, i could keep up a pace that i would never do on my own - and i didn't drop dead doing it. so as much as i dreaded this run & whined about it every wednesday night, i totally missed it when i wasn't there. they made me work harder and they made me faster.

when my coach first told me i'd be running with "the big dogs" (they have another name, but this is how he first referred to them, so in my head - they are the big dogs) ... i almost hyperventilated. like the heartrate monitor, it was another rite of passage, but one i felt that i was not ready for. and one that i didn't really want, but at the same time was secretly flattered by the invite. i just imagined that the group was so far out of my league; there was no way i deserved to be running with them. i would joke that i'd need a paper bag to breathe into in the car on the way there ... but after a few weeks of running with them -- i kept up a little longer. i got a little faster. i realized i could run with the big dogs. the performance anxiety was gone.

until last night. after 14 weeks off, it came back with a vengeance & i wanted the paper bag ... to breathe into on the way to run & to throw up in on the way home.

but i didn't need it.

i can still run with the big dogs.

ok, maybe i wanted to throwup a little when i got home.
but i think that was the heat.
nothing a little nap couldn't take care of.
because it still kicked my ass & i fell into an hour and a half stupor.

Aug 14, 2007

big red button

its simple, really. just push the big red button.
ok. simple for normal people. but me?
lets just say that i have mastered the art of user-error.

i've been using my coachs' watch & heartrate monitor for about a year. its' taken me about that long to figure the damn thing out. not much to figure out really. just push the big red button. i can take user-error to new levels. but now that i've got it down. it's dead. well, not dead yet really ... it may just be a flesh wound. but it is definately headed towards dead.

when coach gave me the watch & monitor it was like a rite of passage. he said something to the effect of: its a whole new level of insanity. i was all excited. i had graduated to heartrate monitor level of running. this was big. to me. he was right - i love geeking out over all the numbers & there is now more to obssess about. i am very good at obssessing. and the day i actually stopped running to take the monitor off; and lick it - in plain daylight - so it would register; was the day i realized it is indeed a whole new level of insanity. i mean, i was standing at an intersection licking my monitor. what the hell had happened to me?

pre-coach & official training, i'd run without a watch. it was more zen that way. i could just run for the sake of running. but once i had the watch on my wrist, i'd come back from runs completely confused & perplexed by my time ... i'd hit the stop button by mistake, or i'd hit the big red button twice. or i wouldn't hit it hard enough. suddenly, mid run - usually after a water or loo stop i'd realize it wasn't clocking me anymore because i forgot to start it again. i'd complain about the watch & be completely incredulous as to why it didn't work & everyone would say "just hit the red button!"

but now the watch has gone completely wiggy on me. really. its the watch this time. not me. it has started a little death march. a few weeks ago while on my 11 mile long run. i heard a bleep. and then another. and another. the watch was recording .06 second splits all on its own. i thought, this could be a fun game - i'll try to run faster for each .06 second split. it was a fun game for about .06 of a second ... and then i got all confused over the rules of the game and how would i actually know i was going faster if each split was .06, so i had to stop. i mean, i could have counted how many splits it recorded & then compared the distance somehow on gmap, but really - who has the time for that? you'd have to be really crazy.

there was the time it just wouln't stop timing. for 6 hours. there was the time it just wouldn't even start. or the time my heartrate registered so high i should be dead.

and today, on my mile repeats - i'd stop. but the watch wouldn't. i'd hit the red button to get my split. nothing. now i was desperate. it was still going. i was calling it a f*cker. i was begging.

push big red button.
wtf? stop!
push big red button.
pleasepleaseplease ... please tell me if i got even remotely near target pace!!
push big red button
stop ticking!
push big red button
i'm done. can't you see that!
push big red button
the excrutiating mile is over! how fast was i?
push big red button
oh dear god, how am i ever going to record this in my little spreadsheet thingy if you don't tell me my exact splits!
push big red button
good god, how does a girl get to boston if she doesn't know her splits?
push bug red button
omg! stop you mofo watch! please! stop!

oh. finally.
i wonder how many seconds i should subtract.
how long was i yelling at you?

ok. look at that - recovery almost over.
now where's my water bottle?
ready to try this all over again? let's go!
push big red button

Aug 12, 2007

the post run stupor.

this is my favorite part. the stupor of a nap that i fall into after a long run.
i crash on the couch ... and just before nodding off,
i think - this is a mistake, i should have something to eat first. i will regret this. it doesn't take long to fall into that place between sleep and awake. i can hear everything. but can't speak.
i hear my daughters crying over how their computers are 'lagging', or won't turn on, or some other computer catastrophe. and i try to speak & call to my son to go help them ... only i know nobody can hear me. and they come up to me & put their faces right up to mine & ask where is daddy? and i try to say, he's on a bike ride, he'll be home in a minute. i hear them saying they are hungry & i think i mutter get some cereal. and then i dream that my husband came home & moved the piano out of the house all by himself & i am impressed. i know there is one child on the couch with me. then another is trying to squeeze in. then apple jacks are falling on my face. and so i get up & move to another couch, saying - "i'm almost done sleeping. almost, but not yet". and i get to the other couch & the dog comes with me. and the sun is beating in that window and the couch is too hot & i realize if i want to save this day at all, i must get up and eat something. daddy comes home & fixes computers while still in his biking gear. so i can eek out every extra second.
i need coffee.
i need gatorade.
i need to get out of this sweatshirt.
nap is over.

ahhhh ... long run mornings.
i love these mornings.

week 5 of training is over.
10 more to go.


i've been tagged. by vickie.
at least i think i am the suzanne that she tagged.
but for all i know, she meant another suzanne & now i am the one responding - in which case, i am a bigger dork than i thought ... and while i'm not entirely sure what this means - to be tagged, here goes:

jobs i've held
ice cream scooper
short-order cook
nanny ( i feel this is a step up from babysitter as it came with some hefty jack, a jeep wrangler & a country club membership)
restaurant hostess
waitress (too many seperate waitressing jobs to count ... two of which i quit - because over my dead body was i going to wear those black reeboks they wanted me to wear.)
cocktail waitress
store manager
bookstore girl
preschool teacher
kindergarten teacher
data entry girl at insurance company (sticking hot pokers in my eyes would have been a preferred job)
afterschool program girl in charge
summer artsy-fartsy camp counselor
product developement girl & sender of kajillion faxes to india.
jewlery designer
cut + paste website girl
currently: movie maker tutorial girl

movies i can watch over & over
my cousin vinny
little miss sunshine

guilty pleasures
the sun
the dance/trance/electronica on my run list.

places i have lived
darien, ct.
rye beach, nh.
roanoke, va.
boston, ma.
venice beach, ca.
rockport, me.
south portland, me.
louisville, ky.

shows i enjoy
the office
m*a*s*h reruns

websites i visit daily
running blogs

places i have been on vacation
windham, ny.
sun valley, id.
steamboat springs, ut.
bar harbor, me.
peurto vallarta, mex.
san francisco
saluda, nc.
st. thomas
peurto rico
st. maarten


best actress in a play competition
1st place (ag) 5k
3rd place (ag) 4 miles
do finishers medals count? i got 5 of those. 4 for half marathon. 1 for a marathon.

do i tag someone now?
hmmm....angie, betsy & robin. tag, you're it.

Aug 8, 2007

my new countdown

i keep getting up earlier & earlier to try & beat the heat for my morning runs.
and so, on my way to the pool to "run" this morning,
at 5:45.
in the heat. already.
i decided i have a new countdown.
the countdown to when i can sleep in past 5 am.
that would be the day after the marathon.
october 22.
i can sleep in.
74 more days.

Aug 6, 2007

humid days and mondays always get me down

it was 80 degrees when i went out at 6:30 am for this mornings' 6 miles.

monday's are "endurance runs" - today my run was crazy slow. as was last monday & the monday before that. slow runs usually result in me thinking i suck & then i get to wondering how i'll ever knock 21 minutes off my marathon time if i'm running at a pace that i ran this morning. and so i have a mini-panic. i do this well. and write to coach wondering if the word endurance is another word for slow. i'm hoping its normal. its ok he says. and the heat doesn't help things. oh yes - i forgot about how the heat just sucks the life out of me. am going with that.

my husband asked me when i'll stop having the mini-panic over a bad run; and wracking my brain to try to find the reason for it & just realize it was a bad run. nothing more. nothing less.
i'd like to know the answer to this as well.

and as the day goes on, i realize that i feel sort of crappy. which in a way makes me happy. cause it gives me a reason. maybe my run wasn't slow cause i suck - maybe it was slow cause i felt crappy & just didn't know it yet at that early hour under that blanket of humidity.

monday runs are hard.

Aug 3, 2007


i got up this morning at 5 am to drive 25 minutes to run 3 miles. thats a lot of effort to run 3 little miles on an easy day in an easy week. but this run on this route just had to be done. it's the route that begins and ends at my childhood home. the same home that currently has a for sale sign out front.

i wasn't a runner growing up ... i just ran occassionally in high school. it was more of a casual, sporadic thing. but this was my route. around pear tree point. exactly 3 miles. always - it never varied. down the street, cross the post road, past the pretty houses, over the stone bridge, down to the little harbor & the beach, up the big hill, down past the farms, over the stone bridge again & back home.

smell the salt air.
watch the fog lift.
see the sun come up.
stretch on front steps of childhood home one last time.

Aug 2, 2007

cross training. the surfy way.

last friday - as on every friday ...
i had a choice: 3 miles or yoga.

so, i went surfing.

i had a surfing lesson 2 years ago ... and remembered, that, in addition to being fun as shit - it was hard & a kick ass workout. so i totally figured an hour of surfing would suffice. plus, when the hell else was i going to get to substitute surfing for a run? ah. like never, dude.

so me & my bff suit up, get our shore review & hit the waves. our instructor was my cousin who owns a surf shop with his brother. the very same shop where they hand out red bulls like they are candy. if you are ever in rye beach, nh ... you must go.

so we're floating. we're floating. and my cousin is regaling us with tales of his travels all over the world ... runs a surf shop in the summer & the rest of the year, travels to points south where the waves are big to teach surfing. in my next life, i want his life.

so he chats, and then suddenly, pushes the board - with you on it - and yells "paddle, paddle, paddle!!!!!" and then "pop up! now! up!" you got it you got it! oh! not so much!

my favorite was when he'd spy the next wave & right as he pushed you off into the surfy unknown - will i get up or won't i? he'd say, "this is it, this is your wave" ... dude. that's a lot of pressure. this may not be my wave.

i resist the urge to ask how long it usually takes people to get up the first time. i remember the last time i did this & it took me 30 minutes to get up. that was the first & last time. and i was drop dead exhausted.

now, i didn't have my watch on, although i have to admit i was tempted to wear my heartrate monitor - just out of curiosity ... you know, in that would the effort match a 3 mile run sort of curiosity. but i'm gonna guess that about 20 minutes into lesson i got my first wave in. am sure my heartrate would have registered off the charts - the excitement & sheer joy was an absolute blast.

i got a few more in after that ... and my cousin left the boards for us to keep using ... i stayed in & got a couple more -- could have done it all day. totally channeled my inner surf girl.