May books:
Our book club read Night by Elie Wiesel, which needs no explanation, but which explains why we might have abandoned our June read, Love in the Time of Cholera, for something more lighthearted, a.k.a. One for the Money by Janet Evanovich. Fun and frivilous, Evanovich was the perfect antidote.
More fizzy tonic: The Gatecrasher by Madeline Wickham (who also writes as Sophie Kinsella).
Sports Nutrition Guidebook by Nancy Clark came recommended to be by a nutrition professor, and was more than the obvious, same-old stuff you might read in a magazine.... it had really honest, forthright advice for those expending lots of energy in athletic pursuits, such as YOU WILL NEED MORE FOOD and YOU NEED TO PLAN FOR THIS MORE FOOD. I.e., it's really OK that you're eating two breakfasts or two lunches because that is better than denying that you are hungry and then raiding the office candy bowl at 2 p.m.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Marathon #5
Since 3 of the 4 races we ran last year were the hottest on record, we decided to do Marathon #5 this spring to hedge our bets against the predicted heat of Grandma's. So when the weather report predicted a high of 84 for race day, I had a bit of a "What is the point?" meltdown, a cross between a little kid pout-fest and an adult metaphysical crisis (the adult version might have had a hell and fuck or two thrown in).
I was also really worried about my body--still that damn groin. That may seem like too much information, but the groin is where your leg muscles connect to your abdominal muscles. i.e. ESSENTIAL. (Aside: Dr. Cutie was actually AT THE RACE, competing in the marathon relay, and I was really worried that I'd see him and we'd have some awkward conversation about my groin. Fortunately, I didn't see him and we didn't have to go there.)
Husband and I started out the race together on the humid, overcast morning with a light breeze. At mile 12 or so we split up... Husband was pushing ahead and I was ready to let him go, having done my duty of making sure we paced well enough not to hit the half mark too soon (2:07).
Miles 18-22 I didn't feel good... I felt like I was slowing down, which seemed to be confirmed by my watch, although I was purposefully not keeping too close of an eye on it. My face and head felt steamy hot, so I took off my hat to see if that would help... people kept asking me how I was doing which gave me pause, because that was my first warning sign at Twin Cities that I wasn't doing well. Later I realized that this was probably because it was a small-town, small-field race.
At mile 23 I got an unexpected second wind, and started passing people that I'd been leap-frogging with. Soon I was passing people like crazy, and people were cheering me on, and the last mile sped by and I looked at my watch and realized with complete shock that it was likely that I was going to PR. I caught a glimpse of Husband on one of the last straight-aways and followed him in, tears filling my eyes as I saw the much-sought-after 4:15 time.
The last few days I've just been elated, so happy to have achieved my goal and so relieved to have some of the pressure off for Grandma's. I feel like breaking open champagne and dancing in the streets (although it would have to be in a hobbled, blister-footed sort of way). And I'm so out-of-my-mind thrilled for Husband, who ran an amazing race and smashed his previous PR time by 17 minutes.
I was also really worried about my body--still that damn groin. That may seem like too much information, but the groin is where your leg muscles connect to your abdominal muscles. i.e. ESSENTIAL. (Aside: Dr. Cutie was actually AT THE RACE, competing in the marathon relay, and I was really worried that I'd see him and we'd have some awkward conversation about my groin. Fortunately, I didn't see him and we didn't have to go there.)
Husband and I started out the race together on the humid, overcast morning with a light breeze. At mile 12 or so we split up... Husband was pushing ahead and I was ready to let him go, having done my duty of making sure we paced well enough not to hit the half mark too soon (2:07).
Miles 18-22 I didn't feel good... I felt like I was slowing down, which seemed to be confirmed by my watch, although I was purposefully not keeping too close of an eye on it. My face and head felt steamy hot, so I took off my hat to see if that would help... people kept asking me how I was doing which gave me pause, because that was my first warning sign at Twin Cities that I wasn't doing well. Later I realized that this was probably because it was a small-town, small-field race.
At mile 23 I got an unexpected second wind, and started passing people that I'd been leap-frogging with. Soon I was passing people like crazy, and people were cheering me on, and the last mile sped by and I looked at my watch and realized with complete shock that it was likely that I was going to PR. I caught a glimpse of Husband on one of the last straight-aways and followed him in, tears filling my eyes as I saw the much-sought-after 4:15 time.
The last few days I've just been elated, so happy to have achieved my goal and so relieved to have some of the pressure off for Grandma's. I feel like breaking open champagne and dancing in the streets (although it would have to be in a hobbled, blister-footed sort of way). And I'm so out-of-my-mind thrilled for Husband, who ran an amazing race and smashed his previous PR time by 17 minutes.
Not sure what to think...
about the fact that my new nearly-29-year-old license photo looks EXACTLY THE SAME as my 21-year-old license.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
$3.69
In line at Caribou:
Girl: These drinks are like, so overpriced. I mean, like, they cost as much as a gallon of gas.
Girl 2: Totally.
Girl: These drinks are like, so overpriced. I mean, like, they cost as much as a gallon of gas.
Girl 2: Totally.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Why my physical therapist makes me blush
It starts with the fact that he's cute. Then there's that he's digging around in my pelvis, plucking my groin muscles like a banjo, searching around for the exact spot that's causing me pain that's about two inches from another famously hard to find spot...
Dr. Cute: "Is it there?"
Tacohead: "Not quite. It's a little to the left, I think... just a bit more..."
Tacohead: Grunt of pain as he hits the spot
Dr. Cute: "Got it."
I think I could handle all that, I really could, if it wasn't for his coaching patter as he works out the sore spots. He usually gets us into a contorted position and has me push my leg against him in resistance as he presses his finger harder and harder into the stubborn muscle, getting it to relax and yield.
And all the while, he's saying things like:
"Come on, come on, come on, come on, you got it..."
Or:
"Right there, right there, right there, yeah, right there..."
What's a girl to do?
Dr. Cute: "Is it there?"
Tacohead: "Not quite. It's a little to the left, I think... just a bit more..."
Tacohead: Grunt of pain as he hits the spot
Dr. Cute: "Got it."
I think I could handle all that, I really could, if it wasn't for his coaching patter as he works out the sore spots. He usually gets us into a contorted position and has me push my leg against him in resistance as he presses his finger harder and harder into the stubborn muscle, getting it to relax and yield.
And all the while, he's saying things like:
"Come on, come on, come on, come on, you got it..."
Or:
"Right there, right there, right there, yeah, right there..."
What's a girl to do?
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
In training
THINGS THAT BREAK YOUR HEART
A soon-to-be-new-mom, five months left to go, assembles the newly purchased jogging stroller and takes it out on a run, a bag of sugar buckled in the seat, so that she'll be ready when her new daughter arrives from Ethiopia.
A soon-to-be-new-mom, five months left to go, assembles the newly purchased jogging stroller and takes it out on a run, a bag of sugar buckled in the seat, so that she'll be ready when her new daughter arrives from Ethiopia.
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