The Week After the Week That Was

I know I owe you all a love-life update but I ran outta time, so it will just have to wait! (And that sentence right there could quite possibly completely substitute for the update.)

After an action-packed week of the Boston Marathon (spectating, not running, for you new people out there), a fantastic 20-mile bike ride, and the Pike's Peek 10K...I'm a lost soul.

My beloved Speed Development Program held its awards banquet on Tuesday, and I was sad. I was sad because I didn't win a damn thing! To get a certificate suitable for framing you had to have decreased your pace at the Pike's Peek 10k by one minute over (under?) the pace group you were assigned to in January 2009.

I was in the 10:30 pace group.

My Pike's Peek pace: 10:38.

Not certificate-worthy!

It sorta kinda looks like I increased my pace by :08. Which is totally a lie. Even if technically true.

Sigh.

I really thought I was going to get the Spirit Award! Or the Showing Up Award! The Bravest??

I'm not bitter.

(I'm so bitter.)

I have no other road races planned. Just Nation's Oly tri in September, another Oly in August and a sprint in June.

So tonight I started toying with the idea of marathon training. It's just a phase, I think. I don't actually want to run another marathon, silly. Do I??

Meanwhile: Here's a good story. I only managed to get one swim in while in Boston last week, and man, was I fast!!! I finished 1500 yards in 30 minutes. Holy crap! Except...um...wait...a...minute.

As I climbed out of the pool, impressed with my prowess, I took a look back, squinting through my odd prescription goggles. And then took another look at my time. And then? I decided to ask the lifeguard that fatal question: Err, how long is this pool?

Answer: 20 yards.

As in: Not 25 yards.

As in 100 ≠ 4 laps.

As in 4 laps = 80.

Sigh.

And: I seem to have lost a bra somewhere between D.C. and Boston. No kidding. Not a regular one either. A specially-fitted one that cost a chunk of change!

I should have sewn my address into the label.

Please Please Me

This IM convo (which was certainly NOT held during work hours) could be the start of a whole new poetry genre. Or not.

Can you guess the theme? (By the way, I totally blame Susie for this.)

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
please please me.

Jess says:
come on come on

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
YEAH YEAH YEAH

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
WHOA YEAH

Jess says:
I wanna be your man

Jess says:
I wanna be your ma-a-a-a-a-n

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i wanna be your lover baby

Jess says:
love you like no other, baby

Jess says:
like no other can

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i told you before

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
you can't do that.

Jess says:
I have got

Jess says:
another girl

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i'm gonna let you down

Jess says:
I am telling you...this time you better stop

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
AND LEAVE YOU FLAT

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i could be sleeping like a log

Jess says:
I could too

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i SHOULD be.

Jess says:
It's 5!

Jess says:
go home!

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
yeah, but i got one more thing to do...

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
[expletive deleted)

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
now i'm back in the ussr

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
which curiously

Jess says:
I'm the fool on the hill

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
doesn't exist!

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
head.

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
hurts.

Jess says:
concusion?

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
well, there was the train incident

Jess says:
exactly

Jess says:
I'm back in the USSR now, too!

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
prudence

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
this is like a poem! a bad poem!

Jess says:
I would go crazy if my name were Prudence

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i love that name

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
could have a lot of fun with a name like that.

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
glass onion

Jess says:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dear_Prudence

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
wow, i just learned a lot!

Jess says:
does your head feel bettter?

Jess says:
after learning?

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
not really?

Jess says:
maybe you have too much stuff in there

Jess says:
too much pressure

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
TRUE, THAT!

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
will empty it out tonight.

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
life goes on

Jess says:
I wish there was some sort of defragmenting function for your brain

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
la la la la life goes on

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
and my apt!

Jess says:
I've just seen a face

Jess says:
Don't Bother Me!!!

Jess says:
my theme song!

Jess says:
go away, leave me alone, don't bother me

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
happiness is a warm gun, mama

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i wonder how long we could go on like this?

Jess says:
eight days a week

Jess says:
long, long, long

Jess says:
the end

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
take a good look around you.

Jess says:
I'm SCARED to do that

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
hold your head up you silly girl

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i'm so tired, feelin' so upset

Jess says:
two of us

Jess says:
I'm in love and it's a sunny day

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
you were only waiting...

Jess says:
let me take you down 'cuz I'm going...

Jess says:
nothing is real

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
if you want me to i will

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i wonder what other bands we could do this with.

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i'm guessing?
mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
on the blog?
mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
this won't be nearly as funny
Jess says:
boooooo
Jess says:
did you notice that Craig was just singing "Real Love"?
Jess says:
coincidence?
Jess says:
I think not

Jess says:
here comes the sun king

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
julia, julia!

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
i'm outta here julia

Jess says:
you never give me your money

Jess says:
waaaaah

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
shimmering in the sun

Jess says:
good day sunshine

Jess says:
and good night

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
do you or don't you want me to love you?!?

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
tell me

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
nevermind.

mccannjl@mindspring.com says:
helter skelter.

It's Not Me, It's You

Before I commence with the whining, go congratulate Mark who just ran an amazing marathon! And aj, who just kicked ass in her first duathlon!

OK, enough about them, back to me:

It's week ten of no running, and I see the doc on Thursday to either hear "all cleared for takeoff," or "you're benched for another two weeks." Or ten. Or whatever.

I'm having a great ol' time being depressed. (I am well aware that there are people with real problems. Honest. But I'm going to bleat for a while here.)

My 10k group ended, where I wasn't a runner but played one every Saturday. So I'm feeling rudderless on Saturday mornings. I should revel in being able to sleep til noon, but I kind of got in a routine. I kind of got in a routine of getting up and running and what if I lose it? What if these two years just vanish? What if I let my newfound fitness slip away? (yes, I know: other people, real problems. war, famine, cancer, etc.). Do you know how many years I was unfit?? Many. It's scary.

I've pretty much convinced myself I'll either a) never be able to run again, or b) have to start with the walk one minute/run one minute thing, or c) my doctor will tell me on Thursday that I am benched for another two weeks. I call it "premature depression." I like to get depressed about stuff that hasn't happened yet. It saves time.

I have put on a happy (sort of) face for ten weeks, but time's up and now I'm feeling good and sorry for myself, unlike some people I know, who can laugh through anything, and bring the rest of us along for the ride.

Other crap that is happening:
A friend from another department got promoted and is now working under me. It's tough when a friend becomes an employee. I'll just leave it at that. Really tough.

My highly underpaid coach will be moving to the west coast soon. Some of you know that until a few weeks ago, in real life Bex and I worked together (in different departments, so I could freely bitch, moan and complain to her. Oh the joy!) So that's another loss. We were also in the same bell choir, where she had the pleasure of elbowing me every time my ONE note rolled around. Two weeks ago she played the prelude and postlude at my church.





She's a classy dame.

There have been some other radical changes at work: 14 people were laid off, some of them good friends for years.

And, as a side affect, my workload has increased. So I'm working 10-11 hour days again (bleat bleat, moan, bitch). I can't keep up with the fun stuff that I do. Cannot. Keep. Up.

Like I've been trying to update my match.com profile for weeks and I can't even get that done. (Not like I care!) So I'm sure I'll die alone, surrounded by cats. (Of course that would require getting a cat.) So I'll be 49 on match.com forever, apparently. (Eh, maybe not entirely a bad thing.) Of course, you have to actually pay to play over on match.com, and I haven't been willing to shell out the big bucks after all the fun I had with e-harmony, not once but twice.

Plus, my bathroom ceiling is falling down because of my upstairs neighbors who haven't fixed their leaky pipes in two years, requiring me to confront the owner who doesn't even live there. His MAID and her family live there, rent free!! As if!!

I just need a little help:

Weekly Roundup

Yes, I'm well aware it's Tuesday. Only Tuesday. How is that possible ... Since it feels like Friday, we're having a weekly roundup now. OK? OK!

1. Ran with 10k group Saturday. Three miles on the mall. In what felt like 70F weather. You'll never guess ... but when you run with a group? You tend to go faster. Who knew?

2. Can a person die from overwork?

3. Ran Monday morning—outside—at 7 a.m. Three more miles!

4. Have taken extremely expensive custom-made inserts out of shoes. Am now using thicker socks to compensate. Fascinating, non?

5. This morning, 6:30 a.m. Am I still dreaming? Or am I in spin class, one of only two people to show? And the other person is a sweaty guy?!? And I'm sitting directly in front of Spin Instructor? Annnnnnnnnnd, I made him laugh today. I said, "Personal training!" I told him my heart rate: 32bpm (10 seconds). He almost ran for the defibrillator. Oh, that's not all. I also asked him if I could take a photo next week, for my "web site." He said: "You want to advertise for us?"
Me: Um, yeah, sure!
SI: Cool!

(This is so not him.)

6. If I run tomorrow morning, this will qualify as a "running streak."

7. It's supposed to snow tomorrow. Morning.

8. Treadmill!

9. Had cupcake at work tonight. It was sitting out on the counter. It was 7 p.m. I got to work at 7: 30 a.m.

10. But made up for it with extremely healthy dinner: corn/roasted red pepper soup, baked (alright! nuked!) sweet potato, and baked mahi mahi. I really love Trader Joe.


That's all I got people. It's been a long week, and it's only Tuesday!

I Am Not My Pace

I am not my mileage.

I am not my weight.

I am not my bodyfat.

I am not a number.

I am not what I do.

I am not what I can't do.

And neither are you any of those things.

I'm a whole, entire person, complete with quirks, guilt complexes, and delusions of grandeur (in my case). I bet you're pretty complex, too.

I am often hit in the face with reality.

I often bump up against my dreams and find they are, indeed, impossible.

I do my best! I angrily say to myself. Not always! I angrily answer. Sometimes, I decide to coast. Sometimes I don't put 100 percent into whatever it is that I claim to want. If I really wanted it, nothing would stop me, right? Somewhere along the line I decided I didn't want it—whatever it is— quite that much.

Sometimes my best just isn't good enough ... for me. Because ultimately, there's no one else who cares. There's no one else I have to please, except myself.

Just me. Unfortunately, I'm one tough customer.

Which is why I have to remind myself of who I really am. So this is my little reminder.

Snow! Ice! Cold! Heat Wave!

Yes, tomorrow's weather forecast is for 50F.

Last night, I looked out my window around 5 p.m. and this is what I saw:



Snow squall!

In other news, here is the other awesome present I got for my birthday, from a close friend, in fact one of the MAIN people who inspired me to start running. She's 54, and still winning her age groups. This woman rolls out of bed in the morning and decides to do a triathlon...and then wins it! Plus, she's tall and slender and gorgeous. And incredibly nice, so it makes it very difficult to you know, be unbelievably jealous and envious. As if!

I think this means I can't stop running. Sigh. It also means I will never be left by the side of the path, friendless and SOL!

What a great present!

Speaking of inspiration, I was thinking today about this l'il ol' blog, and trying to remember why I started it. What I remembered is being inspired by reading another blogger, none other than 26.2 miles vs. Naomi, who I bet inspired many of you, too. She was then training for her first marathon, and wrote hilarious recaps of her experiences. She is an awesome writer. So, Naomi, to you I tip my blog cap.

Who inspired you to start blogging? Tell us, and then tell them!

Happy Presidents' Day!

Spin Cycle

I'm still coughing and now sneezing. I can't remember the last time I was sick for this long. I did zero exercise this week. I can't remember the last time that happened either. It's funny—or not—how not exercising for a week sends me into a frenzy. I'm convinced that my running days are over. And it was only last week that I ran in Florida, for Pete's sake. Will there ever come a time when I can trust my body, and myself, enough? Enough that I can take a week off without worrying that it's all over?

Well, I have a lot of history to overcome, I guess. I didn't even start exercising until my 30s and 40s. And my efforts were pretty half-hearted. Then there's forty-some years of being overweight. I guess two years of diligent training doesn't cancel out 48 years. Maybe it will take me another 48 years to feel like I am an athlete. That's ok, because I plan on living to 98 and crossing some finish line somewhere and winning my freakin' age group for once! It could happen.

So, I dragged my snot-filled self to spinning this morning. I've noticed that a lot of people do back-to-back spin classes. And really, that's a good idea. This class is 45 minutes, and it's a killer, no doubt, but honestly, the actual heart-rate-thu-the-roof time is probably more like 30 minutes. So it's like running a 5k. Extremely fast (for me). But it's not long enough. (Not that I'm actually going to double up, or anything.)

Here's an little fantasy I thought I'd share: Whenever I'm in spin class, or yoga, or strength training, I fantasize that when the instructor says, "Great job!," he or she is really talking directly (secretly) to me.

Am I the only one having that little fantasy? Nevermind. A girl's gotta dream.

Another tidbit from spin class: I looked around this morning, and noticed, for the first time, that I was not the fat girl in class anymore! The room is mirrored (why? WHY?) so it's hard not to see yourself, although believe me, I try not to, but today, I thought, dang, I look good! I wanted to take a picture!

Instead, I believe I'll spread some sunshine with this video where George Costanza (aka Jason Alexander) recaps Dick Van Dyke's role:


Now, that just has to make you smile!