To Do

Do you keep to do lists? I do. Many of them. I thought I'd share some items from this week's list. It's such a relief when you can cross things off your list! It's a visual cue about just how much you've accomplished. Plus, you feel so much lighter, free-er!

To do this week:

Sunday: Run, church, movies
Monday: 6 a.m. run. 24 F, (RealFeel: 7F!!)
Tuesday: 6:30 spinning and get instructor to notice ME ME ME! OVER HERE!
Tuesday: 12 p.m.: Visit oral surgeon for consultation ... hey, wait ... you're just supposed to be looking ... PUT THAT TOOTH BACK!
Tuesday: 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.: Sleep on couch waiting for anesthesia to wear off.
Wed:
Thur: (Maybe yoga. Depends on what the oral surgeon says.)
Friday: Root canal!

Today at the oral surgeon: they tell you it's only a consultation and then while your defenses are down, they scare the bejesus out of you by suggesting that leaving an infected tooth one minute longer than necessary could very well shorten your lifespan. Alright, alright! RIP it out already!

Let me just say: Laughing gas plus tunes on the Shuffle is a winning combo.

Guess what the oral surgeon said? "No exercise until I see you on Monday."

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

Back to the schedule: In case you can't see through the strikeouts, yesterday morning was a bit chilly. 24F while the "RealFeel" temp was 7F. I wore every piece of clothing I owned. I was baking. But it was good. My foot is much better! Just in time for me to stop running!

Now I know you are all waiting for an update on this morning's spin class. At the end of class the Spin Instructor Whom I Covet put on the requisite stretching music, and I thought, "Jeanne, here's your chance for more witty banter."

Me: Awesome song! (Hendrix's "Waterfall." Demonstrating the depth and breadth of my musical knowledge. Plus my age.)
Very Very Fit Instructor: Well, if you liked that song, you're gonna love the next one!
Me: Great! (Lame alarm!)
And this song comes on.
Him: Hee hee.
Me: grrr.

First, tell me how is it possible that these two songs were composed during the same decade? How??

I couldn't help but notice these lyrics:
And even though we ain't got money,
I'm so in love with you, honey
Is it possible that Spinning Instructor is sending me secret messages??!

Finally, I leave you with this, taken Saturday on your National Mall:
This is Trina!

I'll Take That Cortisone, and Raise You Two Penicillin

The week in review:
Well, let's back up to last week, when our heroine was prescribed penicillin for a tooth infection. And she's also busy popping the ibuprofen like it's ... well, like it's good for her.

Onward!

Monday: Two-hour eye doctor appointment, during which he made me blind. (Isn't that just wrong???) But said there's no reason I can't wear contacts! Some day. As soon as I save up. Imagine, seeing while swimming! Or while doing yoga! Or anything! Yay!

Tuesday: 6 a.m.: Butt-kicking spinning class. With butt-kicker instructor. With whom I made small talk afterwards in a sly attempt to woo him:
Me: Hey, I only wanted to barf once this morning! (Hmm. My wooing skills are a bit rusty.)
Fantasty spinning instructor: Ha. Ha.
Me (changing tactics): Hey, I did both those races last year (referring to the T-shirt he started with (the MCM) and then stripped off to display the Cherry Blossom 10-miler t-shirt underneath)! Aren't I clever! (I didn't actually say that last part.)
FSI: Oh. That's nice.

FSI is hilariously funny in between barking commands at us ("Push push push push push push" or "left right left right left right left right"). Tells us stories and stuff. So why didn't he laugh at my joke? WHY?

Wednesday: I RAN THREE MORE MILES!!! Outside, in the lightly falling snow. I overcame my fear of cold. Not my fear of ice, but of cold.

Thursday: 6 a.m. yoga. Lovely.
Thursdat: 3 p.m. - 6 p.m. Urology pre-op appointment. Let's move along...

Friday: 8:15 a.m. 4 degrees F. Trip downtown to see Foot Doctor. Yes, I have plantar fasciitis. How 'bout a nice shot of cortisone in that heel? But, Foot Doctor warned me, we can't do this more than once or twice.
This won't hurt a bit. Nurse Ratchett, pin her down!

So that hurt. For real. And still does. He also fixed my ridiculously expensive inserts again, to get rid of the bump in the right one that I swear is causing the PF.

Foot Doctor says: Stick with three miles for a while. No problem, say I, since in two weeks I will be gazing up at this sight:

No, no, it's on the RIGHT!

And then the real fun starts!

I Ran Three Miles

Saturday, on the tread$#!~@mill. At work.

And it only took me 35 minutes! I thought I would die. But ... I stuck it out.

Saturday morning here in D.C. was cold. Windy-24 degree-F-windchill-cold. Bex sucked it up and joined her group for a 9-mile arctic run, while I debated and hemmed and hawed and finallly got myself to work where there is the choice of treadmill (inside) or trail (outside!) I went for the mill.

I don't know how some people do this treadmill thing day after day! More power to you. I was sucking air and thought I would faint. And that's before I turned it on.

Saturday afternoon, I did a yoga video ("Yoga for Weight Loss") in the comfort of my toasty warm living room.

And Sunday morning did "Yoga for Beginners" because I couldn't bear to go for a walk outside. A pattern develops. I have an aversion to cold.

Tomorrow morning: Spinning! With the guy I want to um, see more of!

In other news, I've stolen Jon's goals. It's OK though, he said I could have them. (I don't need the chocolate one though, cuz that would mean adding chocolate to my diet, but thanks anyway, Jon.)

Let's see, any other news??

Oh yeah. I had one drink (an Irish coffee, sans whipped cream) with Bex tonight at 6:00 (my first alcohol in months) before bellringing practice at 7:45. On the way back from bellringing class, at 9:15 p.m., there's an intersection where there's a little cutout allowing you to take a right on red. Which I took. And noticed there was a nice hefty Volvo in front of me. And no traffic which would cause said Volvo to stop. But stop he did. And then so did I. Only...not quite fast enough. Ka-boom.

No one was injured. Especially not the Volvo, which is built like a Hummer. Though of course the guy (no doubt a lawyer) wanted all my insurance info, just so he can proceed to put me through hell.

I'm not saying the two things are related (one drink, one Volvo). I'm just saying ...

Boo Boo

Boo boo? Or boo hoo?

Apparently, if I can't make fun of people, what I have left is a big giant blog hole. I will have to seriously rethink this resolution.

I've had better weeks. Calmer, less exciting but more fulfilling weeks. I am still falling apart. Today, instead of getting a tooth pulled, or a root canal, I spent quality time with a nice endodontist who told me I needed not only to get a tooth pulled (he doesn't do that, so messy!), I also needed a root canal on another tooth (he does do that!) but not today.

I made a real resolution on Dec. 9 to get into the best shape of my life. By mistake, did I say "worst shape?" Did I make a boo-boo??

Running: I ran last Saturday, trying to up my mileage to five. My foot gave out at 4.5, and I limped home, very very mad. I have a podiatrist appt sometime soon. (Who the hell can keep track?) So the very thing that keeps me most in shape, this running thing is at the moment only giving me negative feedback. What happens when you get a long string of negative feedback, people? You give up! I meant to say, you go kick ass!

So Sunday, I went for a long hike. As in walking. Might as well get the hang of walking for exercise now, I'm thinking. It was ok. I found a new trail through some woods near my house. I saw a cute guy on a mountain bike and I so wanted to tell him: "I'm really a runner! Really! I'm only walking because...." But he was gone, while the voice in my head trailed off in the distance. Not that I have anything against walkers!

Monday: Did yoga video.

Tuesday: Spinning at 6:30! a.m.! This is more like it. This is a real work out, and doing it before the sun rises just ups the hardcore quotient. Bonus: very nice spinning instructor. As in nice. As in please-take-your-clothes-off-now nice.

Then yoga at 12:30 at work. (That's two workouts, one day. Just helping you keep track.)

Wed: off.

Thursday: Yoga with the lovely A. of the sing-song voice. Planned on elliptical Thursday night but work got in the way.

Friday: Oh, that's today! Today deserves a book. A book that no one but sad pathetic whiners would be interested in. See reCAP (get it? cap? tooth?) above.

So the score for cardio this week? ONE. One 45-minute spinning class. Boo-effing-hoo.

I'm depressed. I think I'm anticipating being depressed after surgery. I like to get a head start on things that way. Oh, and I got on the scale this morning and it said: You gained five pounds this week. I thought I was so over the scale. Bastard.

Five pounds. Even after giving up sugar. No fair. Another round of boo-effing-hoo.

I'm depressed that the title of this blog is really starting to come true. After all those miles! So what do you do when you get depressed? You book time at the hairdresser, natch.

Someone, no, all of you, I'm begging: Kick my whiney ass, and tell me to buck up. Or feel free to pity me. That might work. Ya never know!

Upcoming: Jeanne gets her eyes checked. Stay tuned!

Now, for your listening pleasure, two legends singing my (current) theme song:

Richie, it's buttah!

It's Hell Getting Old

That's what Susie's granddad said and he wasn't kidding.

So last night, just before leaving work for a nice relaxing 3-day weekend, I decided to break a tooth. Frantic phone call to my wonderful wonderful dentist whose house (and probably boat) I believe I have financed over the years. Still, I love her. So she saw me this a.m. at 9 (on a Saturday!) and said "you need a crown $$$$." I am a dental phobic as she well knows, but after ten years together she knows the drill (ha, i kill myself!) Give me enough gas and music in my ears and you can stick your whole arm down my throat and rip out my esophagus! These days, going to the dentist is like a little retreat!

So i have a temporary crown for three weeks. And while she was poking around she found out I have another tooth with an infected root. (This sounds like I have never seen a toothbrush before! I brush my teeth 20 times a day! I floss in the car! What the HELL!) So i have to go see a specialist who may have to "do an extraction." As in rip it out.

So between that and the pee doctor, I already have too many doctors visits scheduled. But no. I have to go see my eye doctor before 2/7 which is when my driver's license expires.

Not only is it hell getting old, it's time consuming!

There's more but I'm starting to bore myself.

Last night I made the mistake of reading through some of my archives. (Always a bad idea.) It seemed to me that it was just entirely possible that I spend a lot of time making fun of other people!!! So I have to stop doing that. I mean really. Is that all I have to write about? Is that the substance of my life here in the nation's capital? Why not write something uplifing now and then? C'mon!

So, that's one of my resolutions. I'm going to stop making fun of perky perkmonsters for the New Year. No, really. I swear.

I'm also inspired by Katy who has been facing down a fracture in her "femoral neck" like it was a hangnail. She is one hardcore dude who isn't crying about not being able to run but is busy making plans for what she's going to do when she can walk again. Take a lesson, Jeanne!

I'm determined to be like this guy (Robert Morse), seen here talking to himself in the mirror:


I Believe in You!*

*How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

Yes, Yes, Yes ... Oh, You Get the Idea

This morning was yoga at 6 a.m. with the lovely yogini A. Do all yoginis talk in that same lilting sing-song-y breath-y way? I wish I could record it for you. It goes like this:

(UP TONE) Take your left leg ... (DOWN TONE) and wrap it around your head. Now...(long pause) ... (UP TONE)inhale ... (DOWN TONE) exhale ... (UP TONE) inhale ... (DOWN TONE) exhale...

It's right on the verge of valley girl, but never quite gets there because of all the pauses, and because A. is so soft-spoken and charming. The room is dark with a wall of windows facing ... a giant construction project (well, this is Bethesda, so that's pretty much the view from all windows, anywhere). She has candles lit. She walks around and gently "adjusts" you. As we practice, the sun slowly rises over the construction workers, who start working their asses off at the stroke of 7 a.m. (It's all very Charles C. Ebbets-ian.)


At the end, as we lay in "corpse pose" she reads some lovely thoughts from some inspirational yoga book. Which thoughts (about loving and peace and crap) I swear I will hold on to and I do! Right up until I walk down the street and into my office.

I dread this class at the start and then I don't want it to end. I do nonetheless sweat up a storm even if it's not Bikram. And everyone in this class is nice. Unlike in this class.

Anyhoo, you think I've been a wee bit cranky lately? You have no idea. In the first four days of the year, I managed to make one person at work cry, piss off two volunteers, and have a long yelling match with, oh, let's just say a certain family member.

Can I have a New Year do-over?

Fitness-wise, let's do a weekly recap:

Sunday: Ran 4 miles (my longest post-marathon run! I think the yoga is really helping!)

Monday: Insane strength class (see below)

Tuesday: Free yoga class at work with can't-remember-his-name-but-he-has-a-mohawk, and he's very very cool. (Kind of reminds you of Dances With Wolves, huh?)

Wednesday: Here's a new workout for you: I live across the street from a mall (settle down Runner Susan) which is bad enough, but the owners plan to expand it 500,000 feet, bringing 500,000 more cars and traffic to this godforsaken "neighborhood." The mall is buying the teensy strip mall across from my condo building— the only semblance of "neighborhood" we have. You can walk to get a paper, buy some milk, have a decent breakfast, drop off drycleaning, go to the bank. Delete! Evil mall-owners are replacing it with a 42 foot high garage that runs, oh, I don't know, the ENTIRE LENGTH of the street that I live on.

So there was a community meeting last night. To reassure us that really good stores are coming. Oh, and they are relocating the bus terminal (where all the buses in the county stop) as far away as possible from where the residents actually live. I live next to an assisted living building. Those people were really happy to hear about the bus relocation, let me tell you.

So you could say I got some exercise (or just got exorcised, ha ha) at that meeting last night.

Thursday: 6 a.m.: Yoga with the lovely A.; 4 p.m.: 4-mile run in 42F. And it was very good.

So, this week has been better! I haven't made anyone cry! (Yet.) That has now become my sorry barometer for whether my week is good or not.

Let's all take ... a deep yoga breath in ... and join me in exhaling...the unsound of

OM

No, No, No, No, No, No, No

Dear New Instructor:

When I go to your strength-training class, new instructor, at 6 a.m., I most assuredly can practically guarantee you, indeed I will swear on a Bible, that I will not want to be doing any clapping (as in two hands slapping together in time) to your cheesy, fake work-out music.

Not at any point during the entire one-hour we had the pleasure of spending together this morning.

Also, if I cannot do one push-up properly, what makes you think that doing 74 more the same wrong way is going to accomplish anything except piss me off?? And the flying from one exercise to another, solely because you are a bouncy, perky, young thing and you think that fast and faster are what matters in strength training (not!) plus you seem to be living in an 80's time-warp, or maybe you just watched too many Jane Fonda videos ... ?

Um, where was I?

My favorite part is when you had us march around the room.

In time to the music.

No. N-O. So no.

I want my old instructor back.

Please.

Yours (not-in-leg-warmers),

jeanne

See? I Wasn't Lying

As if!

Me, smoking a 7-year-old. Photo, courtesy triathlete and really fast runner, Steph.

Countdown to a New Year

Jan. 1, 2007, 10 a.m.: Montgomery County Road Runners Resolution 5K: 33:01 (10:38 min. mile)

My running has been sporadic the past few weeks. I've been running only three miles 2-3 times a week, and I have been taking it easy because of a niggling ITB problem and what I think is the start of plantar fasciitis. (Doctor? What doctor?)

So, I had two goals this morning: don't walk, and don't be last. Done and done.

No matter how many races I run, I am always a nervous wreck before a race. Like ridiculously nervous. Right up until I left the house I wasn't sure I would go. I didn't tell anyone I was racing. I was going to run the D.C. Road Runners 5k today, but that was at noon, and I knew that by then I would have talked myself out of it. Why am I so mental?

So I consulted my (and your) handy online coach for a little pep talk, and as usual, she came through.

Take a deep breath and remind yourself that you are not there to win the race; your livelihood does not depend on you crossing the finish line first. Relax. Soak up the good vibes, take in the scenery and smile.

So that's just what I did. I hung with a 7-year old most of the way, urging him not to let me pass him (I did finally pass him, what can I say?)

And what makes this race truly unique, is that this is the "No Headphones Allowed" club, and they aren't kidding. The registration form is stamped "NO HEADPHONES" and it's a small race so it would be really conspicuous if I wore my trusty Shuffle. Heaven knows, I don't want to be conspicuous. So I was On My Own. I sang the first verse of Good King Wenceslas about 27 times to compensate. I tried to enjoy the people around me and the nice 50 degree (F) temp (check it out: the Cherry Blossoms have bloomed, four months early), the slight rain, and the birds. And the 3.1 miles of industrial park that we ran through.

Still.

A nice way to start the new year. And I got my own permanent MCRR number (170) to boot. These people have a lot of faith in me!

Happy New Year.