So I ran the half marathon up in Pittsburgh yesterday. Holy crap am I sore today-though not as much as I would have expected. But I loved it. I'm definitely signing myself up for a full marathon and will continue running the longer distances.
Between miles 4 and 5, I tripped over a pothole grabbing a cup of water, scraping my hands and knees but my spandex remained intact. Around mile 11, I started to hit a wall. Physically, behind my knees was killing me and the rest of my body just ached. Mentally, I started to question myself and all that I could think of was a glass of Jameson, neat, to drink after finishing. That, and the idea that my friend that I ran it with, to pick someone and to slowly pass them to help us keep moving at pace. It worked. Coming down that last bridge, right in front of the mile13 marker, I just took off. I was at the point where my training and the adrenaline had come together, allowing me to churn on autopilot. As I crossed the finish line, I was elated. I had managed to beat my ideal score of 2:15 by five minutes. As this was my first half marathon-the longest distance that I had ever run at once, I was not expecting a time of 2:10:26.
I plan on taking this week off from running and eating well. However, this will not be a complete pig-out because I'm pretty sure that that would make me sick. I also plan to do some yoga to help ease some of my soreness.
My next run is a Thanksgiving 10k. This will take place in my neighborhood so I'm familiar with the route. My goal is to get a time under 55 minutes. I believe this is doable because when I ran a 10k several months ago, my time was 55:40 and I've only improved since then.
I know a lot of people think that I'm crazy because I enjoy running. Sometimes when I think about it, I'm agree with them. Because who in their right mind would run 13.1 miles? This girl. It gives me a confidence that I haven't received from past experiences. And it makes me want to stick with and to see how much better I can become.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
RunRunRun
So I'm running a half-marathon with a friend in a week. It's close enough to actually become a reality where I'm studying the course map since I won't actually see the course until I'm running it. The race is up in Pittsburgh while I'm down here in Northern VA. I'm not looking forward to the drive home-the same day as the race. However, I just discovered that 1 November is the same day as moving the clocks backwards one hour. This extra hour of sleep will come in handy when I have to be up ridiculously early-the race starts at 7:30 am.
I've come to realize that I really enjoy the training. As much as I hate it, I like knowing that my body can run 12 miles and not die immediately. While I might not always enjoy the way that my body looks, I can appreciate what it can do. It gives me confidence.
I've come to realize that I really enjoy the training. As much as I hate it, I like knowing that my body can run 12 miles and not die immediately. While I might not always enjoy the way that my body looks, I can appreciate what it can do. It gives me confidence.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
End of an Era
So I officially cancelled my match.com subscription. While I clearly was not having any great luck with it, it also got to the point where it was too much of a hassle. It is really hard to be witty and funny and cute all of the time, especially when you're not like that normally. I'm sarcastic, short, and blunt. And sometimes it is okay to have a silence between two people and to be able to enjoy it as opposed to feeling the pressure to continue whatever inane conversation was occurring at that time.
It's been about a week since and I feel so much freer. I'm not constantly checking my email to see if I have any new notifications because I know that I don't. There's no hemming and hawing over replies to people that I'm not completely excited about based on whatever they decided to post on their profile. It's amazing, you're given a word limit to write about yourself and somehow you have to invent yourself to sound different but not too different from everyone else out there because after a while, everyone sounds the same and individuality is gone. But at the same time, you can't have a profile that is too different because then no one will talk to you. It's almost like being back in high school, but online.
I thought that I would miss the attention but I haven't. I've got too much going on in my real life to factor in an online life. Work takes up about 12 hours of my day if you factor in my commute. I'm training for a half-marathon that will take place in less than a month so its rare that I have a work-out that takes less than an hour. And then there are all the little things like laundry and watching my TV shows that need to get done. And honestly, sometimes after a long day at work, the last thing I want to do it is meet someone.
At this point in my life I can honestly say that maybe a relationship isn't in the books for me. I'm glad that I have no prospects because I wouldn't be able to give it my all and I'm not the type of person who half-asses relationships because those are called f-buddies. In a month or two I might feel differently-I'm sure I'd like someone to massage my legs and feet for me after the half marathon.
It's been about a week since and I feel so much freer. I'm not constantly checking my email to see if I have any new notifications because I know that I don't. There's no hemming and hawing over replies to people that I'm not completely excited about based on whatever they decided to post on their profile. It's amazing, you're given a word limit to write about yourself and somehow you have to invent yourself to sound different but not too different from everyone else out there because after a while, everyone sounds the same and individuality is gone. But at the same time, you can't have a profile that is too different because then no one will talk to you. It's almost like being back in high school, but online.
I thought that I would miss the attention but I haven't. I've got too much going on in my real life to factor in an online life. Work takes up about 12 hours of my day if you factor in my commute. I'm training for a half-marathon that will take place in less than a month so its rare that I have a work-out that takes less than an hour. And then there are all the little things like laundry and watching my TV shows that need to get done. And honestly, sometimes after a long day at work, the last thing I want to do it is meet someone.
At this point in my life I can honestly say that maybe a relationship isn't in the books for me. I'm glad that I have no prospects because I wouldn't be able to give it my all and I'm not the type of person who half-asses relationships because those are called f-buddies. In a month or two I might feel differently-I'm sure I'd like someone to massage my legs and feet for me after the half marathon.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Chain Emails
So remember years ago when the internet was first becoming popular? I was in middle/high school and would spend almost every night on AIM talking to friends. I would easily have four or five conversations going on at once. There was something so impersonal about talking to someone online that made you able to spill some of your darkest, deepest secrets. Of course this usually meant who you like liked and who you couldn't stand and what embarassing thing happened to you that particular day in school.
At this same time, chain emails were going around. You know, the ones were if you didn't pass it on you would have horrible luck, your crush wouldn't like you back, or your wildest dreams would come true. Slowly, it seemed like those died out. Or maybe I wasn't popular enough to receive them after a certain time. Regardless, it now seems like they're making a comeback. But this time around, I kind of like it. Not because it makes me feel popular, but because I'm about to appreciate them in a different light. This time, I take the time to read the story and appreciate what is being said. I actually save the funny emails and will occasionally read them later on when I need a pick-me-up.
I think that one of the reasons why I enjoy them so much is because they are based on a true circumstance. Here's one of the more recent ones I received:
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch.. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR !) down with your pants and assume 'The Stance'.In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would haveKNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don'tKNOW what kind of diseases you could get'.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit?)
You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.
I don't know any female who has had to use a public restroom and has had a pleasant experience everytime. The worst are the bars late at night though by that point you're in and out of that bathroom so much it doesn't matter. But this email is great example of who someone was able to take a horrible experience and turn it into something funny,something that women can laugh at because they've been there.
At this same time, chain emails were going around. You know, the ones were if you didn't pass it on you would have horrible luck, your crush wouldn't like you back, or your wildest dreams would come true. Slowly, it seemed like those died out. Or maybe I wasn't popular enough to receive them after a certain time. Regardless, it now seems like they're making a comeback. But this time around, I kind of like it. Not because it makes me feel popular, but because I'm about to appreciate them in a different light. This time, I take the time to read the story and appreciate what is being said. I actually save the funny emails and will occasionally read them later on when I need a pick-me-up.
I think that one of the reasons why I enjoy them so much is because they are based on a true circumstance. Here's one of the more recent ones I received:
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch.. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR !) down with your pants and assume 'The Stance'.In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would haveKNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don'tKNOW what kind of diseases you could get'.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit?)
You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.
I don't know any female who has had to use a public restroom and has had a pleasant experience everytime. The worst are the bars late at night though by that point you're in and out of that bathroom so much it doesn't matter. But this email is great example of who someone was able to take a horrible experience and turn it into something funny,something that women can laugh at because they've been there.
Friday, September 18, 2009
weather & me
It always amazes me with how the weather affects my mood. Yesterday, for example, was cold, damp, and it rained on and off throughout the day. Therefore I was told by my boss to put a smile on my face and I moved like a slug. I really hate it when people tell me to smile. I can't smile all of the time, it wouldn't make sense. I can't look like I'm excited to be somewhere when I'm not. Today's Friday, so I'm a little wired but not enough to get things really going because it's cold and misty out. However, on Monday and Tuesday-two of the worst days in a week, the weather was sunny and warm enough to wear a dress. I was happy. Not ecstatic, because it was early in the week but content with life.
I've noticed on the weekends that I'm more likely to be productive if the weather is nice outside. There is something that is just so attractive about staying in bed or lounging on the couch when it's gross outside.
Maybe it's because I don't like the cold weather nor the gloom that it brings. The layering of clothes is always obnoxious. I dislike having to plan outfits. I'm more comfortable just being able to throw on a dress and be done. So on gross weather days I'm more likely to just through on jeans/sweats with a t-shirt and a sweatshirt, especially on the weekends. After having to dress up for work during the week, the last thing I want to do is dress up again when I know that I won't be seeing anyone. While I'm sure that the people on "What Not to Wear" would be appalled, I'm sure that they would agree that it's hard dressing up all of the time. Sometimes it just nice to be able to relax and if it happens on a gloomy day, all the better.
I've noticed on the weekends that I'm more likely to be productive if the weather is nice outside. There is something that is just so attractive about staying in bed or lounging on the couch when it's gross outside.
Maybe it's because I don't like the cold weather nor the gloom that it brings. The layering of clothes is always obnoxious. I dislike having to plan outfits. I'm more comfortable just being able to throw on a dress and be done. So on gross weather days I'm more likely to just through on jeans/sweats with a t-shirt and a sweatshirt, especially on the weekends. After having to dress up for work during the week, the last thing I want to do is dress up again when I know that I won't be seeing anyone. While I'm sure that the people on "What Not to Wear" would be appalled, I'm sure that they would agree that it's hard dressing up all of the time. Sometimes it just nice to be able to relax and if it happens on a gloomy day, all the better.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
It's the little things, like a change in scenery
There are sometimes when I just love my life. Like everything falls into pieces and while it might not be perfect, it completes the moment. This past weekend was like that. One of my college friends and I road tripped down to Virginia Beach. We had gone down earlier this summer in June, and it was so crowded, it reminded me of navigating at Tysons Corner. This weekend however had people but it was not crowded. You could walk around the streets and on the beach without worrying about touching other people. (Always a plus).
Here's a brief rundown:
Friday night we were able to get elevated seats at a bar so we were able to people-watch (one of my favorite things to do). Seeing a 'cougar' in action and seeing her admit to being a 'cougar' was definitely a highlight because that's not something that you would normally see in a bar. As the bar closed and I failed to bring back the bartender-he had a girlfriend-we walked the whole two blocks back to our room.
Saturday, we were woken up to a parade. I've never seen a parade like this before outside of DC (I probably don't get out enough). Streets were blocked and there were police on horses and old men playing musicians. It was great once I was able to wash down some aleve and brush my teeth. The beach itself was gorgeous-not too crowded but great people-watching. I really enjoy watching people interact with each other, especially families with toddlers.
Flirted with some cute guys at the tattoo parlors-why are they called parlors? Enjoyed a delicious dinner in which I was grateful for my lose fitting top which hid the 6month food baby and the fact that my friend and I did not feel the need to converse in loud tones so that everyone would know what was going on in our lives at the moment and how sometimes you just need to bitch. Went out early to bar because otherwise could have spent the entire night just hanging out watching tv, trying to figure out which celebs had had plastic surgery and what they had done. The bar itself was a long narrow thing, and slightly empty when we walked in. Starting the night off with shooters with a side of water, I knew that things had the possibility to get out of hand fast. They did once the dancer that was a friend of the bartenders' came in and started doing her thing. And free shots from the bartenders never helps. My friend found someone so I hung out with the bartenders once the bar closed to allow her to do her thing.
Sunday, after several attempts to get my act together, we left a weekend of tomfoolery. And despite the little rest I had over the weekend, Sunday night I was wired from the events of the weekend most likely. That euphoria has carried over to the next couple of days where almost nothing could bother me.
Here's a brief rundown:
Friday night we were able to get elevated seats at a bar so we were able to people-watch (one of my favorite things to do). Seeing a 'cougar' in action and seeing her admit to being a 'cougar' was definitely a highlight because that's not something that you would normally see in a bar. As the bar closed and I failed to bring back the bartender-he had a girlfriend-we walked the whole two blocks back to our room.
Saturday, we were woken up to a parade. I've never seen a parade like this before outside of DC (I probably don't get out enough). Streets were blocked and there were police on horses and old men playing musicians. It was great once I was able to wash down some aleve and brush my teeth. The beach itself was gorgeous-not too crowded but great people-watching. I really enjoy watching people interact with each other, especially families with toddlers.
Flirted with some cute guys at the tattoo parlors-why are they called parlors? Enjoyed a delicious dinner in which I was grateful for my lose fitting top which hid the 6month food baby and the fact that my friend and I did not feel the need to converse in loud tones so that everyone would know what was going on in our lives at the moment and how sometimes you just need to bitch. Went out early to bar because otherwise could have spent the entire night just hanging out watching tv, trying to figure out which celebs had had plastic surgery and what they had done. The bar itself was a long narrow thing, and slightly empty when we walked in. Starting the night off with shooters with a side of water, I knew that things had the possibility to get out of hand fast. They did once the dancer that was a friend of the bartenders' came in and started doing her thing. And free shots from the bartenders never helps. My friend found someone so I hung out with the bartenders once the bar closed to allow her to do her thing.
Sunday, after several attempts to get my act together, we left a weekend of tomfoolery. And despite the little rest I had over the weekend, Sunday night I was wired from the events of the weekend most likely. That euphoria has carried over to the next couple of days where almost nothing could bother me.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Virgin Festival & Life
So this past weekend I went to the Virgin festival up in Maryland. In the past, the festival had been a two-day affair with large acts such as the Chili Peppers and Bob Dylan. This year, it was one day with smaller acts but also for free. It was my first time and I enjoyed the experience completely. I designed a converse shoe for a contest (which I lost of course), picked up a ton of awesome free stuff like hair products and t-shirts.
Days later, I'm still on a music high. I'm still rocking out to the bands that played-Weezer, the Hold Steady, Wale, Blink-182, Franz Ferdinand, and Public Enemy among others. But it made me wonder if Virgin would have held a free concert if the economy was better. A lot of the advertisers hacking their wares mentioned the economy as the reason for giving away free stuff as a 'pick-me-up'-free beer too at a certain place and time. But at the same time, I'm trolling for jobs and I'm noticing spelling and grammer mistakes on these ads. I personally have a hard time taking these companies seriously when I see mistakes. Now I understand that everyone is human and that we all make mistakes but come on, job stuff is serious business. To me, an ad with mistakes says that the company doesn't really care about the position or the person necessary to fill that position. So the economy sucks and the companies that are hiring don't really care about the message they're sending out because they know that they still hold the upperhand.
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