My Pants Look Like a Snicker Wrapper

It's a Saturday morning, and for once we are having a laid back day. Work and my personal life have been so hectic lately (ok, the last 10 years); it's a difficult time. I am basically sacrificing all my personal time and activities in the name of driving over two hours a day to get my kids where they need to be, and to properly take care of the new dog. When I move in March, all that will come to a screeching halt, and I just can't wait!

In the meantime, I am trying to make the best of it. Last week I realized all my pants were tight. That's only depressing because it's evidence that I haven't been doing anything for two months. Today I decided I can't wait any longer, I'm going to have to figure it out somehow. The only way I can schedule a run or anything where I'm sure it will get done, will be to get up at 4:30 a.m. That seems pretty impossible, but "I think" I'm going to try it. I am a night owl, so this is really a hard prospect! No matter how tired I am during the day, I get a second wind around 9 or 10:00, and then I drag ass the following day (which is every day during the week). My perfect schedule would be to stay up until 1:00 a.m., and get up at 9:00! Then I could run at 10:00 p.m., no problem! Wishful thinking...

So, today I am lounging around in a pair of sweat pants I bought when I was pregnant with Ray. Being 5'10", it's hard to find women's lounge pants that are long enough (it was a lot tougher seven years ago). So I bought a men's pair, which lasted me through my pregnancy. But I still wear them... they are comfy! Today Ray proclaimed, "Hey, mom! Your pants look like a Snicker wrapper!" That made me laugh... I'm a Snicker bar!

Did You Know That...

When building a house, the bigger the headache you have, the better the house? My builder has assured me of this...

When building a house, there are approximately 153 exterior trim options and decisions to make? We won't even talk about the interior...

Someone could find my blog by googling "ass and underwear Greek Proverb"? Hmmm...

I haven't ran or done anything at all (as in intentional physical exercise) in approximately two and a half months? Ugh...

If you replace the watch you lost, you will find it. So don't get the exact same one again, no matter how much you loved it... and don't badmouth the hotel maid (oops, sorry).

The secret to "lucky" people is that they simply don't give a shit when dealt a bad card. What bad card? (I just happen to have a couple other dueces.)

"Everything" is in your head... except lonliness. That's real.

If you give your (or my) teenager your credit card, and make it clear they are not to buy anything for themselves... they will still find a way to charge three time more than you expected.

Sting has a PBS Christmas special on right now (OMG, the trumpets are amazing... how can someone play that instrument so soft and perfect?).

I love PBS concerts.

A six year old boy and a six month old puppy have the same amount of energy... boundless.

I must confess, I could use some rest... (i.e., work is done). Good night!

I Can't Part With The Pickle-vator

OMG, I cannot believe the stuff I have accumulated. Most of the items I've come across that are not completely trash (giant Spongebob, heavy duty machete, hanging silk Wisteria plant, surround sound system... yep, surround sound system) I have carried out to the curb, and it disappears overnight. Come trash day, what's not taken, the garbage man will haul away.

So, obviously I have had much issue getting rid of stuff. I am not a pack rat, at all! As a matter of fact, I kind of lack sentimentality at all, in the tangible sense. I like have a couple things to pass on to my kids; things of my grandma's and great grandma's I would never part with. But I don't have all that many of those things. Things of my mom's of course, I still cherish (I have a fabulous quilt, and some great wall hangings she's stitched). Those are some obvious things a person would hold on to. I won't mention the things I got rid of; suffice it to say some people might not feel the same way.

The one thing I found today I just can't seem to toss is a pickle jar. Yes, a pickle jar! I thought it was the coolest thing at the time, and I still think it's a great idea. A pickle-vator! They placed the pickles on a yellow thingy with slots, that has a little plastic piece coming up the middle to the top of the jar, with a little handle on it. When you need a pickle (and we all need a pickle sometimes), just lift the picklevator, and your pickles are right there for you to grab! No more cramming your hand in the jar for those last few pickle slices or getting pickle juice on your fingers.

I'm keeping the pickle-vator! And how about the mini-icecube tray? It went...

I'm Moving

I sold my house. I took bottom dollar, even though they wanted me out in 3 weeks. I had termites, a crappy home inspector, and a positive test for Radon. I had a kick ass realtor though (Pam Socha, House of Brokers), and she made it happen. She gave up a little skin, I gave up a lot... and the other side didn't give anything. Cash buyers though, so I guess not much incentive for the other realtor to give up much.

In the last two weeks I've averaged less than four hours sleep a night. Thursday morning when Ray didn't eat his cereal and I didn't know it, and Mackenzie was yelling at him as we were walking out the door... I had had it. I sat down and cried. The kids were amazingly good after that.

Yesterday I didn't cry... I drank. I was cleaning out the garage refrigerator, and found an old bottle of champagne. On a whim, I popped the cork, said here's to you... and I drank some of it. One full glass, on little sleep and an empty stomache. I was cured of all my woes.

My closing is on Friday of this week. I'm moving into a temporary home, and building new. The builder happened to have a house available that's currently for sale, and he's renting it to me for a song. Nice. I just hope Friday gets here...

First Dates, Kept Dates, and Apologies

I had a date on Sunday, a couple of them, actually. The first one had been on my calendar all week. I was to meet God at church at 11:00 a.m. sharp on Sunday. It had been a while since I called Him, and He was probably beginning to think it wasn't going to happen. But He's good (and yes, He knows). He made such an impression, that despite my chaotic schedule and lifestyle, I couldn't forget Him. So on Sunday, I kept my date.

As the first song was playing (Woodcrest is a contemporary church, and the band and music are awesome), I was immediately sucked in and thanking God for meeting me. My next thought was to apologize... "God, I'm sorry I kept you waiting and at bay. You deserve better." I then quickly came to the realization that the only one I had let down, and owed an apology to, was myself. I truly regretted that I had let this area of my life dwindle down, so slowly it was not really recognizable, until it was non-existent. I cheated no one but myself.

My mom and I often talk about God winks, those little coincidences that you might want to dismiss as just that, coincidence. But if you have an open heart and have faith, you come to believe that those are not coincidences. God is talking to you! While I was lamenting that I could have let this aspect of my Christian life go, the pastor was talking about something similar... living life without God, and trying to do it all yourself. This took him to a quote by Jacoby Shaddix, lead singer of the heavy metal band Papa Roach: "There are always outside forces trying to tell you what to do. So, we just put up our middle finger to critics and other people, and say, 'We're gonna do what we're gonna do.' We stand up for ourselves as a band, and our message to our fans is to shut yourself off from anyone who wants to run the show, and run it yourself."

While this is minor, I found it a little ironic. I had never heard of the band, or the lead singer, but Jacoby? This is a huge congregation (average weekly attendance is in the thousands)... and I don't know of any other Jacoby's in all of Columbia, let alone this congregation. How many times in the past year and a half (the amount of time I've missed church) do you think they've flashed my last name up on the big screen? And it happens on the day I am there, and having these feelings? This, my friends, is a God wink!

The pastor's point was that while the quote might make you believe this person doesn't need or want help, he wrote a song, "Lifeline", that might indicate something else. Here's the song the band played, and they did a kick ass job! Put on your head phones, or just use your speakers if they're good, and *crank* this song:
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=57058517

So as all this was going on in my head, I thought of both dates I had planned that day (a "real" date was to follow). I was glad the one with God was the one that had been kept. Not that the other one hadn't been... I just hadn't heard from the guy, so I wasn't sure it was going to happen. As I was leaving church, I got a text, "I'll call you in an hour" (no, not from God! ha), so my next date was on. I couldn't help but think, you have a tough act to follow!

Lifeline by Papa Roach

When I was a boy I didn't care about a thing
It was me and this world and a broken dream
I was blaming myself for all that was going wrong

I was way out there on the wrong side of town
And the ones that I loved I started pushing 'em out
Then I realized that it was all my fault

I've been looking for a lifeline
For what seems like a lifetime
I'm drowning in the pain, breaking down again
Looking for a lifeline

So I put out my hand and I asked for some help
We tore down the walls I built around myself
I was struck by the light and I fell to the ground

I've been looking for a lifeline
For what seems like a lifetime
I'm drowning in the pain, breaking down again
Looking for a lifeline

Is there anybody out there?
Can you pull me from this ocean of despair?
I'm drowning in the pain, breaking down again
Looking for a lifeline

You know a heart of gold won't take you all the way
And in a world so cold it's hard to keep the faith
I'm never gonna fade away, yeah

I've been looking for a lifeline
For what seems like a lifetime
I'm drowning in the pain, breaking down again
Looking for a lifeline

Is there anybody out there?
Can you pull me from this ocean of despair?
I'm drowning in the pain, breaking down again
Looking for a lifeline

For a full transcript of the service (it is worth the read!), go to:
http://www.woodcrest.org/resources/message-audio-and-notes/09-20-2009-the-inner-piece-fixing-it---pieter-van-waarde-sr.- pastor.html

Who Let The Dogs Out?!

I know you really want to go "who, who, who, who, who" about now, but I'm really wondering who let the dogs out?! I don't know what I was thinking... I wasn't. I'm sleep deprived, stressed out, over worked, under paid, no sex life... wait, what was I talking about???

Oh, yeah, who let the flippin' dogs out?! I adopted two dogs the past month, and I've become a raging maniac. I run around my house following the little suckers with a scowl, daring one of them to leave even one drop... and thereby decrease their number by one! I wake up in the morning thinking "Is that a dog I hear? Who let the dog out of its crate?!"

Ok, so there are some good points, too. I started the puppy running with me last week; he got three one-milers in! Meet Amos, my new running partner... he loves me. He follows me around, sits, shakes, fetches, stays, heels, doesn't run away when we're out in the yard. And, he licks my toes! Who needs a sex life?

Help, I've Fallen

I fell on my bike last night! Ugh, I hate that. I was cruising along with a slight tailwind, on a slight downhill, crankin' along at well over 20 mph. As I approached the stop sign at a highway, I was watching both directions. Yay, no cars, I can blow through (yes, I know the rules of the road, yada yada yada).

About 15 yards out from the stop sign, I see the glint of metal to the far right. A car. The question is, can I make it? That's one of those split second thoughts, but of course, there's no room for error. In that instant I realize I have to brake. I didn't have any problem coming to a stop in time, but what I did have a problem with in that short amount of time, was downshifting.

A key component to staying on your bike when at a near standstill in clipless pedals, is to be able to pedal just enough (inches) to keep your balance. I've become fairly adept at this over the past few years. Unfortunately, last night, as I came to a stop, I went to exert a little pressure on the pedals to maintain uprightness... and nothing! I was in too high of a gear to have any effect at all, and over I went! That's one of those things that just torques you!

Ironically, I seized the moment to stretch a little, get a good drink, and when I took off again I felt refreshed. Either that, or the adrenaline was still helping me a long.

While I'm talking about cycling, I'm wondering if anyone has ever tried a Blackwell Research ISM Adamo Racing saddle. It looks rather unconventional, but I have yet to find a saddle I really like, so maybe conventional isn't for me.











Or, the Blackwell Flow... If you're a female triathlete, and you've tried either of these saddles, let me know how they worked for you!

Negative Splits

I ran six and a half miles Thursday after work, on the trail. Mackenzie had soccer practice for an hour and a half, which meant after I dropped her off and drove to the trail, it left an hour to run. I rode over 30 miles the night before, followed by a short run, and I was a little sore. So I really didn't have a plan, just do what I could do.

My turn around on the trail corresponded with a water fountain and bathroom. I noted on my watch 27 minutes and whatever seconds. I was a little surprised because of my long workout the night before, and running in the evening is not the optimal time for me to run. I decided then to push it a little, and make it a negative split.

A negative split is when you try to run your second half faster than your first. For a slow runner like me, it's hard to do. It's especially hard for me now; my performance compared to a couple years ago has really faltered.

I was a half mile into my second half when a guy passed me. He had a nice easy stride and I decided if I could hang on to him, I would make my negative split. I fell into a bit quicker rhythm, and was heads down, just watching his shoes… and breathing. He'd pick up pace a little, and then slow until I thought I'd have to go around him. He must have heard me, because then he'd pick up pace again. With about a half mile to go, he really picked up the pace, and I was in an all out sprint to keep up.

I wasn't sure if he'd stop at my stop, but he did. I was never so relieved to be done with a run; I had stuck with him. I walked to the stretching post and he came over and said laughing, "I'm very competitive, I don't want anyone to pass me." I laughed and said something about how he must have felt having a girl keep up with him. I just thought it was a little funny cuz he was young, in his twenties, and he felt he was being competitive… with a woman in her forties! That said more about him than me, but I didn’t knock him. Whatever it takes to keep you getting out there…

On the run back my thoughts had drifted as they usually do to life, and how quickly time goes by. Life is a negative split… the last half seems to go so much faster than the first. I wish there was a way to reverse that.

Over The Hills and Through The Hood...

...to a Cardinal's game, we go!

I took Ray to a Card's game last weekend, and we had a blast! He was so cute; everyone around us got a big kick out of him. His eyesight must be amazing (or mine is just crappy), because he would spot players 40 yards out and scream, "There's Brendan Ryan!!!" or "There's Yaddie!!!". He knows all the players by name, and of course, Pujols is his favorite. We had a great view of the field, on the first base line.
Raymond is a lot like my brother, Steve; he doesn't know a stranger. Whenever I'm around my brother, it always strikes me how social he is. He can and does talk to anyone, anywhere. I was brought up with the "never talk to strangers" rule, and as a result, I have this deep down fear that if I talk to a stranger, something really bad is going to happen. I'm pretty sure they'll jump on me and attack me, or lightening will strike... something. Ray is like Steve, and I like being out with them both, for this reason. And I usually don't get attacked (ok, I never have...), and more often then not, I have a more fun and interesting experience.

And this was the case with the Card's game. Interstate 40/64 is under construction and closed 10 miles out from the city. I had somewhat forgot about that, and as I was re-routed onto a side road, I saw the Metrorail sign. I wondered out loud "Maybe we should just take the train in." Never say that with a six-year-old in the car, unless you really want to ride the train! I parked the car, and there we were... in a St. Louis suburb neighborhood.

Being out of my element doesn't really bother me, but I always want to be safe. In these situations you feel like if someone is looking for a target, well... here I am. But forge ahead. We get our tickets from the automated ticketing system, and go downstairs to the platform. A young girl offers us a seat next to her on the bench, and Ray does his usual "Hi, we're going to a Cardinal game. What are you doing?" Followed by 10 or so other questions, along with information I wouldn't really share with anyone, let alone a stranger. I take a picture of Ray, and she asks if I want her to take our picture. Yes! As she takes it, some boys in the background decide to mess around a bit, and she giggles and tells them to move. She takes the picture, and I jokingly tell the guys in the back that I'd love a pic with them in it. A few of them disappear, which is kind of funny, but two join in:


Our new friends! :)

Trash Talkin'

I got in my SUV this morning, feeling just a little pissed off. When I had gotten up earlier, I found a note from Mackenzie on my purse... in large red writing it said "There is a HUGE water leak in the basement. Look under the rug." Sure enough, I went downstairs and there was a large wet circle smack in the middle of the living room. No wetness leading up to the circle, no leak in the ceiling... I could only figure it was coming up from the concrete. Help me!!!!

So as I started my vehicle, the radio was blaring Bon Jovi's "Blaze of Glory". I love Bon Jovi! I thought about needing to download some of their stuff to my iPod, and then remembered it was trash day. I have a special method of taking out the trash, that is highly effective (especially when you're in heels and work clothes), and a bit stress relieving at the same time. Here's how you do it.

Depending on if you are pulling out of your driveway forward or backward, place your trash on top of your vehicle, closest to the curb. Since I have a long driveway, I back out of my garage, and drive forward out, so this morning my trash looked like this (only one bag this week):


Then mash the gas pedal to the end of the driveway, and slam on your brakes. The goal is to get good enough with your speed and alignment to get perfect placement of the bag on the curb. I nailed it this morning, with the bag landing right next to mailbox in the grass!

I'm going down in a blaze of glory...

Janineology

When blogging about my vacation, I had enough decorum to crop the picture and not put a full body shot of me in a bikini. I'd like to claim I was being a good mother (or hmm hmm, sister) and refrained from exposing my daughter on the Internet... but that would be a lie. I was totally protecting myself.

My daughter, however, didn't feel the need to protect me or herself, and posted all our pictures on Facebook. So they are semi-protected (only 682 of her closest "friends" can see them). I was less than enthused about this "revelation", until I saw a comment posted by one of her friends. It said, "I love how your mom can go as your sister."

Ok, I forgive her.

Happiness Comes Of...

One of my best lifelong friends (hi, Ted!) :) once texted me:

Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to be needed... I need you!

Wow, that's just as powerful to me now as the day I first read it. I have shared it with a couple other special people in my life, and the actual meaning sticks with me. The exact quote, authored by Margaret Storm Jameson is:
"Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.”

If this is true, I must be (or should be) happy. But I know several people who struggle with the "to think freely" element in their life. What does to think freely mean? Don't we all do that?

I was talking with a friend the other day about secrets, and I used the term "live in the light". I don't want to do things that for whatever reason have to be hidden, from anyone. Have I always been able to do that? Of course not; very few people can make that claim. But when things come up that ping my conscience, I do think, what if everyone knew about this? How would I feel?

I guess an element of this that came up in discussion was keeping secrets from your significant other or spouse. Not necessarily keeping secrets, but not divulging how you really feel about something, not acknowledging the truth (whatever that might be). Obviously some things are better left unsaid (those jeans make you look fat), but why keep secret the more important issues?

I don't know if that's what Storm Jameson was referring to in "think freely", but it's how I understand it. Whatever relationship I am in, I want it to be (as someone else put it) 100% transparent. I'm just thinking freely here... :)

Havana Daydreamin'

OMG, help me, I can't stop! This morning on my way to work I was trying to change radio station and I accidentally ejected the CD... then pushed it back in so I didn't have to deal with it. JB playing again, and I got hooked. Havana Daydreamin' came on, and it hit a chord..."he's just dreamin... his life away". I think I'm having a mid-life crisis; I seem to be thinking *a lot* lately "wth... wth am I doing with my life? This is it, one shot, am I living it that way?" I actually woke up in the middle of the night last night thinking about it... ugh.

So back to my trip notes before I lose the desire to write about it (even though I kinda have). First of all, I busted my ass getting the trip together at the last moment. Airfare, hotel, rental car, chartered fishing trip, places to see and eat... Our flight got into Fort Lauderdale at 1:30 a.m. Thursday morning because we couldn't leave until Wednesday evening, and we lost an hour.

At 2 a.m. or so, I was ready to get my rental car at the airport. I went to pay for it and my credit card was declined. Oh, no, you've got to be kidding me! I don't use credit cards much; I have two accounts (only one of which I had a card for), but they don't have balances. I always get those stupid checks in the mail... and that's the only reason I even know the accounts are still open. Or *were* still open. I vaguely recall a few months ago that I got a letter saying they were going to raise my interest rate from 5.9% to 23% or some such crap... and there's no way I'd pay that. So, no I don't accept your "terms". I guess they gave me 90 days or something, and then they closed the account. Nice bastards... Zero balance (at the time, I used it for Internet purchases and the like), never late, customer for 10 years or better, and they closed my account.

So, use my debit Mastercard. Wait a minute, where is my debit card? Holy crud, it's gone! So there we are, 2:30 a.m., airport deserted, no credit cards, no car. Thankfully I had some cash and had prepaid a hotel close to the airport (and thanks for that one lone taxi that came out of nowhere). The next morning I call my bank, realize Mackenzie has her debit card, transfer a couple grand to her account, and at least we have acess to some money. The problem is the rental car; I need a card with my name on it to rent from the majors. I look in the yellow pages and find "no credit card needed" local car rentals, and dial the first one "A Rental Car". I find out that it's named "A" Rental Car so it appears first in the yellow pages. Effective...

I talk to Eddie on the phone. He's leery of me... why do I need to pay cash? I tell him the story, and he's still leery. He says they need $500 cash deposit, and the car will be $170. Ok, come and get me, I tell him. Fax insurance info first, then I'll come. Ok... done; he arrives an hour later. Here's the good part. Eddie is a twenty something Puerto Rican, and he is *hot* (over 6', muscles, short hair, slight goatee... eye yie yie). Things are looking up... a little eye candy to relieve the stress. We have to hit an ATM or three for me get the $500 cash deposit, and in that time I find out where Eddie lives, that he has a couple kids but his wife messed around on him and they divorced, where he parties... and he makes sure I know where he'll be that night (it's ladies night, I can drink for free!). OMG...

We get the car and to the hotel, finally... and we are ready to start the vaca. The beach is beautiful, and we have this incredible view from our room:


We went deep sea fishing and first thing, I land a sailfish! I fought it for a while, then Mackenzie wanted to try. I had it close to the boat, and when I handed her the pole, with the release of tension, the thing took off. All you heard was "zzzziiiinnnnnnnngggggg". She got it close again, and I turned off my camera and was going to take the pole from her... and get this... the first mate (who clearly knew how to fish the area) grabbed the line! Ugh, even I know not to do that! I started to say "NO", and with one flick of its tail, it was gone.


Mackenzie surprised me by wanting to go to the Miami Seaquarium. It's located on the way to Key Biscayne, and it's really a great set up (although the park is old and a little run down). They pump water in from the Atlantic, which is within feet of the park. Their shows were more entertaining than I anticipated, really done quite well. The killer whale is awesome, with the trainer swimming with it, and it lifts her, throws her, and flies her from under the water back on the platform on her feet. Pretty cool.

Last year (with a girl friend), we didn't venture to the nude beach, which is a half mile from the hotel across the bay inlet. This year I didn't consider it an option, and I don't really have a desire to go there, anyway. What was different this year is that there appeared to be more European clientele in the area as a whole... so we didn't have to go to the nude beach to be in eyeshot of T & A. Thongs were common place... and as I ventured down the beach a mile or two for my walk\runs, so were topless lesbians making out on the beach, hot guys in thongs, on bikes, and in one case... sprawled on the beach in see through white trunks, laying just where the waves washed over his legs. Holy moly... that was almost too much for me to handle! And I wished I'd had my camera when I came came across a military type dude, built and tanned, in a G-string... who was setting up a towel in front of his flipped over mountain bike! A G-string, sand, and mountain bike... an odd combo, but to each his own.

Miami Beach, I can't wait to go back next year! And I'm pretty sure I'll go back to "A Car Rental"! :)

Changes in Latitudes

Ok, so I'm still on my JB kick... (30+ years and counting).

I am not a very sentimental person, in the tangible sense. I have a few "items" that I keep, and when I get them out or run across them, they evoke memories and emotion. More powerful than that, for me, however, are the feelings that come from music, and scents, and places... in that order.

Music is a pretty common one; most people can hear a song from a different era in their life, and be taken back to that time or situation. Music speaks to you. It puts into words and sounds your experience; it validates your feelings... you are not alone. Smell is actually just as or more powerful to me than music, but it doesn't happen so often. Lavender will always remind me of a certain someone, and I love the scent. Without fail, I will think of this person every time I smell it. And it literally brings out a physical reaction in me, a little rush of adrenaline and feeling of anticipation. Then there's this Bath and Body stuff that I used to use, that did the same thing for the guy I was seeing. Then he started using the shower gel so he could smell it and be reminded of me. Now when I smell that, I get a pang in my gut. I stopped using it, and hid it away. I only thought of it because Mackenzie found it a couple weeks ago and used it... and when she walked into the kitchen, I had a sudden urge to hit her over the head with the cast iron skillet. :) (Maybe I should be using it every day, and that would desensitize me to it.)

Places... that brings me to my trip. Last year when I went to Miami Beach, I was in a totally different state of mind. I was in love, and was loved the same way. The friend I was with insisted we would return there, and it would be for my wedding. That seemed like a grand plan to me (and at that time I believed it was a very real possibility). This year I returned, not for that reason, but with my daughter. While I was looking forward to it, I also felt a little apprehension. This year I was not feeling in love or loved (in *that* way)... and it was with mixed emotions that I returned. It's such an incredibly beautiful area, and I love just about everything about it. It's odd to experience such contrasting emotions at the same time: pain/regret and wonder/awe.

After my five minute pity party, which only I showed up for, I let the wonder and awe win out! With a few trials, we had a good time, and I made new memories. More on my vacation next blog... (sailfish, whales, and nude beaches, oh my!).

I've Got To Fly to St. Somewhere

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Jimmy Buffett fan? I'm up late working tonight (well, right now I'm waiting for our mainframe to finish IPL'ing so I can work), and my daughter for some reason left four of my Jimmy Buffett CD's laying here... so I popped one in. Magically, I am transformed into another personality, in another world... life is good. Until I get to Changes in Latitudes... then I am sitting with my brother while he's strumming it on his acoustic guitar, and we're both singing, and just like that I'm crying, missing him and cursing him at the same time for what he did.

The tears pass, but I can still feel his presence and hear him singing. "Squalls out on the gulf stream, big storm's coming soon. I passed out in my hammock, and God I slept til way past noon. Stood up and tried to focus, I hoped I wouldn't have to look far. I knew I could use a bloody mary, so I stumbled next door to the bar."

Tryin' to Reason... one of the best songs ever written. Ha, I say that about 80% of JB songs; the one that's playing is always my favorite, until the next one comes on. My first album (I mean, the first album I ever owned) was A1A, given to me by Rob. So while I normally might get a little peeved if my daughter leaves my cd's laying around, tonight it worked out in my favor. And secretly, I'm taking pride... the family tradition will continue!

Coincidentally, I'm really identifying with the music tonight anyway. Mackenzie (daughter) and I are heading to Miami Beach on Wednesday for a vacation (staying at the same place as last year, which was awesome!). And like last year, we'll take a day and cruise down into the Keys, which are so incredibly beautiful. Last year I was with a friend, so we actually partied all night in Key West. I won't mention having to run to the convertible, jump in, and race away in the middle of the night... or the subsequent fines I got from the rental car company and the Florida transit authority (hint, a Winn Dixie card *cannot* be used as a valid Sunpass). OMG, we had fun. We made it back to Miami Beach in time to watch the sun come up over the Atlantic. I won't be doing that this year, but I'm sure we'll have a good time.

Mainframe is up, gotta go. Drink it up, this one's for you... It's been a lovely cruise! :)

There Is No Finish Line

Under the velcro adjustment strap of my Nike running hat it says "There is no finish line." Taking off my hat and reading that yesterday after my run, it gave me a mix of emotions. There is no finish line... because I'm not racing. But even when I was racing, I often wondered, are you ever finished in this sport? When is good good enough? For me that's been "when I know I'm as good as I can be". As Brad Kearnes put it, your personal "peak performance". Maybe I reached that point and never took notice, but I don't feel like it. So I prefer to think of it as being sidelined, not finished... Ha ha, there *is* a side line!

I did a ride\run brick yesterday; I rode 32 miles, followed by a 15 minute run. On my ride, I focused on breathing and pedal stroke. My goal was to maintain good cadence, and focus on keeping even pedal pressure for the entire stroke. And breathe, breathe, breathe... keep the oxygen flowing. Honestly, that part was an experiment to see if it had any impact on the abdominal cramping... and I either got lucky or it worked (or both!).

Pedal stroke is an interesting, and underrated concept. I say underrated, because as a new triathlete, I never heard anyone talk about it. Even with a little experience, only in reading did I learn of its importance and impact. A novice cyclist can go out and readily tell the difference between mashing (pushing hard on the downstroke), and equalizing the push on the downstroke and pull on the upstroke. Practice and maintain this mechanic, and you will go faster. Perfect it, and you will go faster, longer. I'm still wary of overexerting myself (for the price I pay afterward), but yesterday my ride averaged 19 mph. I'll take it.

The other thing I thought about, after realizing I hadn't taken one drink at the halfway point, was the importance of hydrating on the bike. I know this, but not being in training or race mode, I've not given it much thought. One of the hardest things for me when I started racing was drinking... anything, anywhere, during a race. When I finally invested in a Profile Design Aerodrink, I was amazed at the difference. First of all, with a straw sticking in your mouth, you tend to drink more. Not only that, you drink smaller quantities at more regular intervals. What this translated to for me was a quicker, less painful run.

Cheers...

Dock Life

I was at my parents house for a little R&R over the last week. My brother and his wife came out from Colorado, and my aunt from Iowa. Between my brother and my aunt, being around them is always therapeutic. They both have such a great sense of humor, and no matter how serious the topic, I usually wind up crying... from laughing.

While this isn't the best example, it's amusing for me to think about so I'll share it. I am a huge fisherwoman... I love the water, and the mystery of what lies beneath the surface. Missouri has some of the best spring fed rivers for not only fishing, but floating, swimming, hiking (snakes and all) and cliff jumping. Earlier this week I took my brother (a trophy fisherman himself) out to such a stream, where we seined for minnows and caught a few small mouth. When we got back to the lake (my parents are retired and their house is on Lake of the Ozarks), my dad cleaned our fish, and I told him to save a couple of the heads. My son was quite excited about the possibility of catching a large catfish.

I put the head on a treble hook, and cast it out to sit, and grabbed the minnows and my pole to fish for crappie (all off the dock). As I was fishing for crappie, my son wanted to reel in the catfish pole, because for some reason kids can't leave a pole sit for more than a minute. My mom and aunt had meandered down, and were watching the activity. When my son reeled in the catfish pole, the fish head was still on it (one prior to that had actually gotten a bite while we left it out, and disappeared). My aunt said "Wow, that's one big hunk a head". That made everyone kind of chuckle, and my mom says "I knew that was coming before it came out of your mouth." That brought bigger laughs... and I had to join in. Dock life with your fam, ain't it great!

(On a side note, my training took a hit with more GI bleeding, and I've given up the idea of racing this season. I'm still running, cycling, and swimming... but any sort of "real" exertion, and my body seems to cave. Colonoscopy next week, followed by more blood work. It sucks, but I'm adjusting...)

Got Milk?

I have always been a milk drinker; I drink it with everything. Funny thing, my daughter is just like me. We drink it with pizza, tacos, steak... doesn't matter, we like milk with our meals (all of them). Well, not with our meals, but after. Neither one of us touch it until we are done eating, and then we chug the the whole glass! Skim milk, please... save the fat for the cookies we dip.

So being a milk drinker, I can tout its virtues. It's great for heartburn; as a matter of fact, if I don't drink it, I get heartburn. I also drink a big glass with a scoop of Slimfast prior to a workout or long ride (that, oatmeal, and a banana, are my pre-race meal), and it sustains me.

What really made me think of all this is the milk ad with Dara Torres. Geesh, she rocks! If you have seen her swim, you know she is awesome. But if you haven't seen her milk ad, you are missing something else spectacular... her abs! I am on a mission to get those (truly). Check her out: http://www.whymilk.com/ad_pdfs/dara_torres.pdf

Now try this. Tell someone you are going to ask them a series of questions, and they need to answer fast. Grab a plain white sheet of paper and hold it up and ask, what color is this? White. What do cows drink? Milk! I have yet to see this fail... :)

Underwear

It's amazing the response you can get by leaving a pair of underwear in a co-workers desk drawer. Try it sometime... you'll see what I mean! (C'mon, clean ones, Brett!!!)

Speaking of underwear, I've noticed a direct correlation between underwear and blogging. If I ain't wearing any, I ain't blogging either! But workout gear typically does not include wearing underwear... accept for a friend of mine who actually wears a thong under her cycling shorts! That's just plain whacked, and I can't imagine how it's comfortable. As we all know by now, my ass has enough issues without adding that complication!

Status

I saw my doctor a couple weeks ago and he said my blood tests "looked good". Great news! The blood was drawn while I was on the thyroid hormone for hypothyroidism, and I told him in the mean time, I had stopped taking it. So that made me wonder, if I don't need it, why the test results would have been good while I was on it. I had been off it for a few weeks, and really felt fine... The doctor told me that hormone has a half life, so really after just a few weeks, quite a bit was still built up in my blood stream. I had gotten to the point with my health that I just want to start with a clean slate, and then see. I stopped taking anything and everything (which mainly was the levothyroxine, vitamin B, and a multivitamin). Surprisingly enough, he was all for that. I'm going to go back the end of June and have my thyroid levels checked again.

When I say I stopped taking anything and everything, that includes my nightly glass of wine or gin and Squirt or Mango rum and Peach\Orange juice. Damn, that hurts! For the past 20 years or so, that has been one of my majorly enjoyed vices... a night cap. But in the last year, my sleep has really taken a turn for the worse. I have noticed a direct correlation to that one drink before bed... and fitful sleep. It's hard to believe, but after testing the theory for several weeks, it's without fail. If I drink even one glass of wine past 8:00 or so, I will have insomnia in the middle of the night. So no more alcohol during the week... Fridays, however, are mine!!!

I have definitely been feeling better, but the cramping following a hard workout still continues to plague me. After my ride\run brick on Thursday, I ran on Friday evening. It was hotter than hades out, and I was sore. It was an extremely difficult run... and I paid the price. Bad cramping until the following day (but at least there wasn't any blood involved!). Researching this a few months ago (when there was blood involved), I came across the term "condition the gut". I need to find more about what that means. I guess I'm not too smart; I went ahead and ran Saturday too, but kept it short (4 miles) and easy.

I was feeling back to normal today, so I went out for a 32 mile ride, followed by a 2.5 mile run, and then 500 yards in the pool. The pool was outside, and extra cold still... very refreshing on my sore body. I'm really encouraged by my rides so far; every time it gets a little easier, and I'm really feeling my legs come back. And today, for added measure, I wore my tri shorties! I felt great all day today (although I'm a little sore tonight). I'm thinking about my first 2009 race...

Thursday Night Intervals

What I learned today is, if your butt is used to the saddle, the little tri-shorties are fine and dandy (and yield a nice tan line for the shorts you wear the rest of the time). However, if your butt is soft and out of shape from not being in the saddle (and therefore, prone to getting sore), the $170 Cannondale Carbon shorts that span the length of your body from your knees to your boobs... well, they are priceless!

Today I struck out on my ride after work, and caught up with the Thursday night interval group. You can tell it's still early in the season... there were people scattered all over the route. I think the A group only had six riders. A guy passed me and I caught on to his wheel, and stuck with him for quite a ways. I told him I was glad he came along because I had begun to fall asleep at the handlebars. It's boring to ride alone, and I tend to go off into never never land and ride slower. Last year I always rode with you know who (and if you don't, it doesn't matter), and I really miss that. It was hard tonight riding behind that guy, not to imagine for just a minute that it was still last year... but it's not. And looking on the bright side, the view was more than fine and kept me motivated! :)

So I got in a 31 mile ride, followed by a couple mile run, and it was nice to see some familiar faces and talk to a few people I haven't seen in a while. Maybe Thursday night intervals will become my regular ride again!

Apples, Oranges, and the Truth: When Perception Isn’t Reality (Which is Most of the Time!)

I ran home on my lunch hour today to grab my workout gear and a sandwich. As usual, I turned on CNN, got my fill of that, and hit the up arrow on the remote which took me to Court TV (or whatever it is now… TruTV?). For the past few weeks or so they’ve been airing the trial of a police officer who, in pursuit of a speeder, ran a stop sign and smashed into another vehicle, killing the two occupants (two teen aged girls returning to grandma’s house after running out for milk… ugh).

I’ve only watched the trial for all of 30 minutes over the past few weeks, but it captivates my attention every time I switch it on. Today, in the amount of time I was watching, they were focusing on the officer’s statements following the accident, opposed to his statements now, and to those of other officers and witnesses. To argue the prosecution’s point that he was being dishonest, the defense brought in an expert on memory and perception. This is the part that got my attention.

The expert gave this example. A group of subjects is shown a series of slides, mostly depicting boring daily activities. In the series there are pictures of a woman grocery shopping. In one slide she is standing in front of a big pile of oranges. In the next slide, she is looking very startled, and there are oranges scattered all over the floor. Later, the subjects are shown a single slide of the woman picking one orange out of the bottom of the pile, and they are asked if they viewed this slide. The majority of the subjects, with a high degree of certainty, claimed they did see this slide. They hadn't seen it, but they inferred that’s what happened, and that inference (their perception) became real to them.

The expert was also talking about witness reliability, and how stress, emotions, environment, and other factors can impact recollection (it completely skews it, but people are not capable of recognizing this). What really struck me was the impact of misinformation. If someone tells you that John Doe cheated during the last triathlon, and intentionally cut the bike course short, and you are subsequently informed that that story was made up and not true… it doesn’t matter. Your psyche will continue to behave as if John Doe cheats during races.

Coincidentally, last night I was talking with a friend about the truths we can find in situations… if we are willing to acknowledge them. We often talk about the truth. Not only the old adage, the truth will set you free, but about how denying it can keep you from something that will likely be better. But it takes effort, a conscious decision, to look for and acknowledge what’s real. Because our psyches want to hold on to what we’ve been told, or what we perceived to be the truth… and unfortunately, all too often, that isn’t reality.

Law of Diminishing Returns?

I keep wondering if "at my age", I should expect to get faster. If a person's performance declines after a certain age (whatever that may be), but they are still increasing their fitness level and optimizing mechanics, can they reasonably expect to see an increase in their performance? Or is it more reasonable to expect performance to remain the same, or even decrease because of age? I have had a few people who are up there in the triathlon world tell me I have not reached my peak. I am hanging my hat on that!

I got out for a ride last night, and it was beautiful. Besides the numerous road kill this time of year (a huge snapping turtle, a big furry creature, and a big bird of some sort), it was an uneventful 25 mile ride. I hate to admit it was my first in quite some time... and my behind and "soft tissues" are no longer calloused! I am sore today!

Long Trip Alone

The day my brother died, he called a girl he had been dating months prior to that and asked her if she would try again. She said she cared a great deal about him, but she just didn't know what had changed that would make things any different. He told her he just wanted someone to love, and to love him. He was listening to the Dierks Bentley CD, Long Trip Alone. She said she loved him, and they could talk more about it later. Of course, that day never came; my heart went out to Deena (I love you, girl!).

I just got back from my run and was thinking about all the things I take on myself. I'm not complaining (this isn't "woe is me"), but I think all the soul wounds from my childhood make it difficult for me to trust anyone. And really, I'm not talking just about the intimate sense. From fixing my garage door opener, to taking my GPS watch apart, to fixing the crack in my basement foundation... I think I can do it myself. And not just do it, but do it just as good as (or better than) anyone else. It's kind of humorous, but when I got to thinking about it, it also has not always turned out the best. Fixing "things" is one thing, and for the most part that stuff usually turns out great (like all the things I listed above actually saved me hundreds of dollars and turned out fabulous!). But that mentality bleeds into other areas of my life, and some of the resulting decisions haven't turned out that great.

I once read that in adulthood we recreate the traumas of our childhood, in a subconscious effort to resolve them (which of course is impossible). And therein lies the cycle of abuse and dysfunction. So while I don't trust people in the tangible sense, when I probably should... I tend to trust people I probably shouldn't with my emotional well being, which inevitably leads to pain.

I guess I came full circle when thinking of my own pain, and relating to how my brother felt. Life is a long a trip alone, and I can't handle everything myself. Whenever I have tooled along without God in my life, thinking I know better and can make decisions as such, I have paid the price.

I am gravitating back to where I was a couple years ago, trusting more in God... and realizing that's a whole lot better than traveling alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long Trip Alone (Dierks Bentley)

It's a long trip alone
Over sand and stones
That lie along the road
That we all must travel down

So maybe you could walk with me a while
And maybe I could rest beneath your smile
Everybody stumbles sometimes and needs a hand to hold
'Cause it's a long trip alone

It's a short piece of time
but just enough to find
A little peace of mind
under the sun somewhere

So maybe you could walk with me a while
And maybe I could rest beneath your smile
You know we can't afford to let one moment pass us by
'Cause it's a short piece of time

And I don't know where I'd be without you here
'Cause I'm not really me without you there

Yea, Yeah,
Yea, Yeah, Ohhhh

So maybe you could walk with me a while
Maybe I could rest beneath your smile
Everybody stumbles sometimes and needs a hand to hold

So maybe you could walk with me a while
Maybe I could rest beneath your smile
Maybe I could feel you right beside me til' I'm home
'Cause it's a long trip alone
A long trip alone

Why Is It So Hard To Stop Before It Hurts?

Getting older sucks! Yes, I know... it's better than the alternative. Yada yada yada... Did you know that both hypothyroidism and Raynaud's is tied to autoimmune diseases in women? Yeah, me either. I think I blogged about having severe cramps after what turned out to be my last 10 mile run (I know, probably another case of TMI, but I actually passed blood for two days). I was feeling like shit anyway, just fatigued. After that, I decided pressing things wasn't worth my health, and began laying off a little. Then a couple weeks after that, I had a blood vessel spontaneously break in my... tongue! I was putting on my make-up before work, and all the sudden I felt my tongue begin to swell. I looked in the mirror, and the left side was completely purple... and big! It was alarming for a number of reasons (how could this happen, and why?), but the most obvious was I didn't want to suffocate! I looked and saw my phone on the night stand, and just waited to see. The swelling remained but stopped...

Later I called the doctor (the fabulous, gorgeous, and awesome Dr. Vahabzedeh), and they said it was likely fine, and to come in the next day. He came in the room and of course had to ask me about my "ass"... I can't tell you how nice it is to have a doctor who sincerely cares about your ass (ha, he was referring to all the MRSA stuff). Good there... then he cut to the chase. Which was, all this stuff I'm experiencing could be related to an autoimmune disease. They took blood, and I don't know anything yet, but I'm assuming it can't be that bad since that was three weeks ago, and I haven't heard anything. I have a follow up appointment next week.

After all that, two things happened. First, for the couple days after, I was kicking myself for taking my health for granted. What if it was something serious, what if what if what if. For fear of a blood vessel spontaneously breaking, say, in my brain... I quit working out. For one month I have done nothing... except work in and around my house. And I think obsessively about how much fitness I am losing, and not racing. Man, I am tired of those thoughts!!! I don't know what bothers me more, not racing, or the thought of not being in good physical condition.

The good news is, I am feeling a little better. I am beginning to sleep better again, and the lay off has done me good. This week I decided to start back slowly... until I figure out what's going on with my health. I ran a few days ago, and could only make it 4.5 miles because of pain, and that was with stops in there. OMG... terrible. And for two days following, I was sore! I know the sensible thing is to get back into running by starting with a couple miles, and increase slowly. I know it won't take long to work back up. Today I went out and... no pain for 4.5 miles.

I took it easy, and after three miles was thinking "just stop before it hurts". Then tomorrow or the next day go a little further, but stop before it hurts. But why is that so hard to do??? By the time you feel pain, damage is done and it's too late, and in the end it costs you more than if you had stopped. And then I started thinking about all the things in life that that can apply to...

Friends

I don't know why, but I have always been a loner in life. There are some people that I connect with, usually on a very deep level, but with only a few exceptions, even those friendships have been transient (some longer than others). I haven't been blogging lately for two reasons. First, I'm really busy with work and working on my house and kid stuff, so I haven't had much time. The other is because I took to heart something a virtual stranger said to me. Virtual being somewhat of a pun... someone who reads my blog said something to the effect, write for you, not for what people think. I don't know if it's what he meant (although I have a feeling), but I took it in the right way, regardless. Sometimes I let anger over past events take hold of me, and I strike out (albeit with the truth) knowing it will likely have an impact. I guess in my heart I feel that's not right. Another example of "pure motivation"...

Anyway, the reason I am compelled to write now is that I have had the most nostalgic and thought provoking day. The prospect of selling my house sent me to the storage room, where I quickly realized I had accumulated a bunch of crap! I set about getting rid of whatever I could, and that meant opening boxes that hadn't seen the light of day in years. I found stuff I had long since forgotten.

One box I stumbled on had memories of my friend, Donna West... a.k.a. Frenchy. She was an incredibly supportive friend, but we were very different from one another. It was an odd combo, but we trusted each other with all the truths in our lives, and we never let each other down. When I met her, she was in remission from breast cancer. A few years later, on her five year anniversary, it was one of those milestone doctor visits. Unfortunately, they found a spot in her hip, and it turned out to be breast cancer that had metastasized to her bones. I moved away from Illinois a year or so after that, and she succumbed a year or so later. Today I came across her letters telling me about her optimism. She writes (this was either right before or right after a bone marrow transplant), "Chemo starts today, yeah! Finally! I won't feel bad today - only 2-4 days, I'll be out of it. Then on the road to recovery! I hope! Pray, pray, pray for me, honestly! This has to work, it's my life! After talking to nurses, I have a good outlook. Everything is routine, it's gotta work. Keep good thoughts, ok?" She signs off, "Don't forget about me you hussy (had to joke some!). I love you, can't wait to see you and I will. I'm never gonna take anything for granted again! I hope! Yes, I know, I am weird! See ya, sis. Frenchy" The ultimate example to me that life is not fair, and it made me ashamed of some of the things that bother me in life.

Then I came across my "God can". This was made for me by my friend Angie Sapp. She made pottery and I probably have about eight of her pieces scattered about my house and work. My "God can" was packed away for my move six years ago. Angie and I are no longer friends; we drifted apart and life just happened, and our season came and went. I still think of her often though, most because the pottery reminds me of her. (Frenchy gave me six Christmas ornaments... and letters.) For those that don't know what a "God can" is, it's jar you put your worries in and ask God to handle. He can. Angie inscribed on the inside of the lid "Worry about nothing, pray about everything." What's ironic is, my God can had notes in it from 6-7 years ago, from me and my daughter (who would have been around eight at the time). One note I wrote while I was pregnant with my son, and today it made me so thankful. Thank you God, for answering my prayers, and thank you, Angie, for all these years later still giving me a place to put my worries!

Men's Journal

I had a friend call me today and tell me he was bored with my blog, I needed to write something. I have been so busy, starting with last weekend. I had a vacation day scheduled Friday, but I busted my ass on my house getting it ready for sale. Then work called Saturday night and I wound up working all night, which blew my Sunday. And I've worked every night this week; I'm exhausted! But in the name of keeping my blog "not boring" (which I admit is a stretch for my boring life), I'm going to blog about something I had on my list.

As I was waiting on the tarmac during my flight back from Austin, I was trying to do the right thing and act interested in the what the old man next to me was saying. He lived in Indiana, was in Austin on business... blah, blah, blah. I couldn't do it, and his breath had something to do with that. I stared at the seat pocket in front of me and used my power of positive thinking that someone had left something very interesting in there just for me. I wore out SkyMall on the trip out (there is some cool stuff in there). I reached in the pocket and pulled out... Men's Journal! The new and current issue, rock on!

Now, I'm the typical woman who can't resist thumbing through Cosmopolitan, Self, Glamour, and the likes, if they're sitting in front of me. But I get sick of all the ads.... pages and pages of the same old stuff: makeup, perfume, jewelry, fashion. And the same old crap about losing weight, sex, hair, and that about covers it. You see the same things in every women's mag. So when I pulled out Men's Journal with a picture of Bear Grylls on the cover, I held it up proudly and said to the man next to me "Awesome, I've been dying to read this!" (I don't suppose that was too obvious.)

What surprised me was how much more I enjoyed this magazine than I do ones written for me (or should I say, people of my gender). The story on Bear was great, as were the stories on extreme skiing, MRSA (which, unfortunately, I could relate to, http://comojanine.blogspot.com/2009/01/mrsa.html), new cars, commuter bikes, fitness, food, gear... and not one makeup ad! OMG, I'm subscribing! I'm not sure what this says about me. No, I don't have penis envy! :)

Listen To Your Body

Training last year, I didn't feel like myself at all. I started "dragging" last spring, and the whole summer I felt like something was wrong. I follow the "listen to your body mantra", but sometimes you just want to push through. And push through I did, on a regular basis.

It turns out I did have something wrong. I didn't figure it out until the end of the season. I went to the doctor for my yearly, and told him I was tired all the time, dead tired, and my training was suffering. He said at my age (ugh), chasing after children, and working full time, I should expect to feel tired. Add training, and he had no sympathy for me whatsoever. As a matter of fact he looked at me and said, "Janine, what you are doing is awesome. You obviously are fit and taking care of yourself, and that's good. But" (the proverbial but!) "you are expecting too much. You are going to get slower with age, and anyone doing what you are doing would be tired." Was that a compliment or a criticism? I indicated my understanding by saying, "I'd like you to test my thyroid, because something is wrong with me." That seemed like a good place to start, given the majority of females in my family have thyroid issues. He said ok, but I shouldn't be surprised if it turned out fine.

I think he was the one to be surprised. Two days later I got the call that I was (am) hypothyroid, and I should start on synthetic hormone. All last year I did my triathlon training hypothyroid... as if training's not hard enough. No wonder I was so tired! The synthetic thyroid medication hasn't been a cure all. My doctor was right, I do have a lot of stress in my life, and I am still tired a lot of the time. But I'm glad I listened to what my body was telling me, and didn't chalk it up to "my age"! (I'm a spring chicken after all!) :)

What If

I was thinking about Natasha Richardson, and was reminded once again how fragile life is. One day here, on a ski getaway with her sons, and then gone. It's something that scares me... the thought of life being so tenuous. What if she would have known that in a day she would be gone? What would she have done differently? What would I do differently?

I was out on my run today, a moderate pace for an hour. I was thinking about Natasha, and what her family is going through right now. It brought me to tears. It's so easy to get caught up in the day to day chaos of living. Get up, go to work, get the kids, get dinner, clean up, homework, laundry, fit in a workout, run the kids where they need to be... run, Run, RUN. Get to bed, and do it all over again. If you knew you were going to die in a day, what would you do differently? I'm sure a lot of things, but it's too hard to think about. Even if you could come up with an answer, is it possible to "live every day like it's your last"?

Thoughts like these leave me feeling like I'm missing something... but I can't quite put my finger on it. I want my life to have some greater meaning than just being here, but I don't know what that looks like. I know my kids are great, and will be great, and who knows what contribution to society that they will make. But I have this nagging feeling that I am meant to do, or should be doing, something more. This isn't new for me; I remember talking to a friend about it about 20 or so years ago, but it's something that remains unresolved.

On thing is for sure, I feel lucky to be alive. I know I've mentioned this before, but I fell on the ice last winter while running, and cracked my head quite hard on the ice covered concrete (http://comojanine.blogspot.com/2008/12/ice-ice-baby.html). I can't imagine the head knock Natasha took was much harder than mine. I happened to be wearing a stocking cap, and thankfully fate delivered me a different blow. I am now appreciative of that fact.

Costa Rica Adventure Vacation

I found my next vacation! Costa Rica...

Trip Itinerary, Day
1: Airport or San Jose Hotel PickupDay
2: Beginner KayakingDay
3: Mountain BikingDay
4: Whitewater Rafting, Pacuare River LodgeDay
5: Canopy Tour, Zip Lines, River LodgeDay
6: Whitewater Rafting & BeachDay
7: Snorkeling and SurfingDay
8: Airport or San Jose Hotel Dropoff

http://www.costaricarios.com/costa_rica_adventure.asp

Exercise Induced GI Distress

I'm up late tonight, getting reading to head into work for an all nighter. Up to a couple hours ago, I was wondering if I was going to be able to pull it off. We are having a major system upgrade, and it wouldn't be pretty if I didn't show up.

What happened today is something I've battled since I started racing. It's severe abdominal cramping following a strenuous workout. Today I ran 10.5 miles at about an 8:30 pace. I actually felt good until about the last two miles, and then I felt like I "had to go". Nothing urgent, just could feel slight discomfort. After my run, I did "go" (and go, and go, and go), with severe cramps the entire day. Ughh...

Last year following a half marathon, it was the worst I experienced. I had severe cramps for about 10 hours following the race. That time I didn't "go" at all; it just felt like my intestines were being ripped out. Today I decided to Google the condition and find out what was going on; I'd say on average I suffer after half of my races or extra long or strenuous workouts. Today, after a 1.5 hour workout, it was a little surprising. But I did push to get a good time, and I am not exactly in great (race) shape yet.

What I found out after a little research is that I am far from alone. Depending on where you read, 60-70% of endurance runners suffer from abdominal cramping during or after a run. Cyclists also have a high rate, although less than that of runners. Women seem to be slightly predisposed to the condition. It's amazing what happens to your body when you push it as you do on a hard run... the intestines receive up to 50% less blood flow than normal as the body directs blood to the muscles that need the oxygen most. The impact on the intestines can be distressful, to say the least. Dehydration also has an impact; it reduces blood volume, which further exacerbates the situation.

The recommendations were to wait 3-4 hours after a meal to run, and to make the meal you eat before your run a low fiber one (fiber takes longer to digest). Hydration is where I really fall short, especially given my propensity to sweat. I don't worry about food or drink for a run less than seven or eight miles. I take off when I can, and usually I'm fine. This morning I got up and had one piece of toast and two cups of coffee (caffeine is also a culprit if you deal with this issue), and a couple hours later I took off. With hardly anything to drink last night, I really didn't hydrate well enough (um... at all). I won't even say anything about proper nutrition...

You can bet I will be paying more attention to this stuff; today was terrible. Oddly enough, what seemed to finally help me tonight (in addition to pushing water all day), was a swig of Pepto Bismol... and two Advil. I know taking Advil (ibuprofen) for abdominal cramping is totally counterintuitive, but I really think it worked. Thirty minutes after taking it, the cramping subsided.

Now I'm off to work! :(

It's Been the Longest Winter Without You

I was listening to Leona Lewis last night on the spin bike, using the slower tempo song for a hell... I mean hill... climb. I'm out of the saddle - one, two, one, two, just keep to the beat of the music:

It's been the longest winter without you
I didn't know where to turn to
See somehow I can't forget you
After all that we've been through

Momentarily my approach to anaerobic threshold is interrupted by my interpretation of the song, and a subsequent giggle. Racing! It's been a long winter of workouts, without any race plans, and I am "all the sudden" ready to race again... I've actually missed it. So, while this may change, I've reached the conclusion that I want to race this year. I don't think it will be my best year, but it won't be my last, either.

With that in mind, my training plans have now taken on a new life. No more "I think I'll just run today" or, "I haven't been on the bike in a while... think I'll go to the gym." I have to actually put some thought into how I want to train. Or, let me rephrase that... how I can maximize my training in the time I have. One thing that I haven't done in quite a few months is utilize my lunch hours. For quite a while I managed to use my lunch hours rather effectively for a workout of some kind, usually a swim or a run. My overall goal for training is to get in two quality (q) workouts a week for each discipline, and make half of those a brick. So I might do bike intervals (q) followed by a two mile run, a thirty minute ride followed by a long run (q), and swim intervals (q) followed by a short ride. The other quality workouts might be a long ride, a speed work run, and a long swim. That leaves for one day off, which I always need for a makeup day. Now, how this pans out in real life is almost gauranteed to fall short, but the best I can do is make an attempt... and not feel enormous pressure or stress when it doesn't work (no if there).

One thing I am going to do differently this year is focus on bettering my times over last year's races, rather than competing in my age group. Really doing this is hard for people with a competitive mind set; it's a race, after all. But it is just a frame of mind, because regardless, I'm going to do the best I can do... I just don't want to be disappointed with that.

My plans could change, and I haven't gone so far as to plan a race schedule. Planning a schedule will be difficult until I have my daughter's soccer tournament schedule (which will likely include six out of town weekend tournaments), and my son's summer schedule with his dad. And scheduling a race is not as important to me as scheduling time with my mom; I'm really wanting to be with her as many weekends as I can. I don't want to look back and have regrets about misplaced priorities. So, already, just writing this, my bubble's starting to burst and it's not feeling like I will get to race that much... but I am going to tri! :)

Mentally Peaking (Not!)

Sometimes I think I really should have two blogs... one for the training\running\triathlon aspect of my life, and one for the "other" aspects. They impact one another so much, though, it might be hard to separate them.

I had a good week of running despite being out of town on business. I managed to run three of the five weekdays, so not too bad. I ran 6.5 yesterday (Friday) morning before getting out of Austin in the afternoon. Today I really should have gotten out on my bike, but the 20 mph wind gusts were too much for me to contemplate for my first ride in well over a month. So I ran 9 miles of hills on concrete. (Bryan, I had to look up what "fell running" meant, and found out in the UK that's hills!) :) It was a hard run, literally and physically... concrete is not good for the shins and knees, and has taken some getting used to. Good shoe inserts (Arch Molds for me) have made it tolerable.

For some reason on every one of my runs this week I have become emotional. I had a rough winter, but have really held on strong. For some reason, this week has been tough. When I'm running, it seems everything in my life, present and past, streams through my mind. I think because I run alone, it's more of an opportunity for my brain to run amok. Sometimes (like I've blogged about even recently) I hit upon some pretty cool stuff... and other times, I find myself thinking about some of the more painful things in my life and the emotions are right there.

I think this week was particularly difficult because I was away from my friends and family. That emotional isolation catches up with me pretty quickly (evidently). I really missed my son; he was sick while I was gone, and I happened to call him when he was crying. Yuck... I wanted to hug him so bad! My brother committed suicide in June of 2007, and there are times I just really miss him. He was an incredible musician (guitar player), and being in Austin made me think of him a lot. And then my mom... I'm just so worried about her. She's not calling or writing any more, so I know she's only getting worse (dementia). I dream about her a lot, and my dreams always tell me what's really on my mind.

And then there's relationship stuff, and the situation with that guy I blogged about last week. Get this... while we were having that drink, I mentioned a friend of mine. After that sob story of an email he wrote me, he actually emailed her (got her info from my Facebook page) and asked her out for a drink. I really don't care about him or what he does, but the level of dysfunction frustrates me... it's disheartening.

Geesh, I am so sorry for being such a negative Nelly! However, this is my blog. :) Thanks for putting up with me and reading; I'll start feeling better now that I'm home... I promise!

Physio-illogical

Whenever I run I have all these things I think about and think 'I need to blog that'. Then I collapse in a heap when I get home, and can't remember what I wanted to write. So, despite being in Austin, I'm going to take a minute and write this!

I had a good run on Saturday, and thought maybe I'd get one in on Sunday after I got to Texas. Unfortunately, not only did I get to bed late on Saturday, I woke up a mere two hours later with a hellacious sore throat. And that's point number one. My one week bonking episode caused me to get sick! Yes, that's what happened. After I started running and doing triathlons, I noticed I never got sick. I used to get chest colds/coughs a few times a year... and that completely stopped. So I became a true believer that exercise really does impact your immunity. Whenever I take off a week or more, I catch a cold. So, I caught a cold, had a fever and two hours sleep, late flight, and... they lost my luggage! I got to the hotel and passed out, and was awakened at 8:00 by a phone call indicating they were delivering my luggage. Thank God! So, no run on Sunday.

I slept great last night, but decided against the 6 a.m. fitness run. I made it through the day fine, and decided to kick this cold in the rear and go for a jog. There is a great park/trail here that runs along the river, so I just planned on jogging down there from the hotel, and seeing how I felt. I went ahead and put my gps watch on, because I'm stupidly addicted to it... I don't care how slow I am, I want proof! I hit the road and felt surprisingly good, despite difficulty swallowing and snot flying everywhere (nice visual for you). I got on the trail and latched on to a girl in front of me. At 2.54 miles I turned around, but didn't look at the time. At 3.2 miles I happened to look at my watch, and it said 23:54... now visualize my head swiveling on my shoulders as I do a double take. I'm running a sub 8 minute pace, and I'm sick, low on sleep, and traveling! That's when I thought up the term physio-illogical!

I also saw someone who looked familiar on the trail... and had another 'thank God' moment. None of my exes live in Texas! :)

p.s. I wrote this from my phone, so if it looks like crap... well, you know why.

Austin

I'm leaving for Austin early tomorrow morning for a one week IBM conference. The really cool thing about this conference is the first session is at 6:00 a.m. every morning... a "fitness run". I'm looking forward to getting my runs in with some new people, and knocking them out before the work day begins. See you in a week or so!

My Ass Might Be Dumb...

Yes, I made it out on my run last night! Yes, it hurt. First I had planned on a leisurely run from my house. Then my daughter texted me during the day and asked if we could go to the gym. I figured that would work, then I could spin for 30 minutes and run on the treadmill for 30 (a nice way to ease back in). So I pick up my son from daycare, get home at 5:30, and my daughter is passed out cold on the couch. Hmmm, I think she's lost her momentum (which she confirms when I ask her if she's ready to go).

So I decide to save the 40 minute road time to the gym, and run from home. Back to Plan A. To which my son responds with indignity and disgrace, "You said we could go to the gym! AND, you were going to get me a cheeseburger." He then buries his head in the couch, and cries. Ugh... I hear the little whisper "You don't have to run. Feed your starving child."

Ok, there's a compromise in there somewhere. No, we are not going to the gym tonight, but we can go tomorrow night. Have a snack, and when I get back from my run, I will take you to get a cheeseburger. You can ride your bike with me while I run, that will be fun! Does that sound ok? Teary eyes shake a head yes, and I am cleared for take off.

So I jog my first mile, navigating a five year old on a bike through traffic. Ha, the traffic really isn't traffic, just a few cars here and there. But there is a constant chatter, "Where are we going, Mama. Where do we turn, Mama. Do we need to turn here? Left or right? How far are we going, Mama? Let's go straight, Mama." OMG, kid... I'm dying here, quit talking already. One and quarter mile is all either one of us can take, and I run him home.

I finish out with 5.25 miles... and everything still hurts (especially my knees, which I've never had an issue with). I can't figure out what's happened to me, but I know I'll work through it. I did get a few chuckles in when I was finally able to get in the zone and daydream. I was thinking about the movies I watched Sunday. Jackie Brown (a Quentin Tarantino film) is hilarious, and really pretty good. The arms dealer is played by Samuel L. Jackson (Ordell), and at one point he says, "My ass might be dumb, but I ain't no dumbass!" I can use that line!

Bonking

Well, as it turned out, I've bonked in more ways than one. A week ago on my long run, I really did bonk for the first time ever (http://comojanine.blogspot.com/2009/02/mediocrity.html). Little did I know that I would not run again... yet! I didn't plan it that way; I actually planned to get back out within a day or two. But it didn't happened.

And it still hasn't happened. Every day I think, I need to run... or something, but then I don't do it. I have mentally bonked! The thinking side of my brain is no longer holding power over the doing side. The doing side is basically saying f off, I'm taking a break.

All winter long I have finagled and schemed every minute to get my workouts in. I don't mean to complain; I know everyone is under the gun in one way or another. I am just so tired of "thinking" about how I'm going to fit a workout in. Last year I had more of a "just do it" attitude, so I know I can just do it! But I've bonked... mentally (in addition to physically).

Yesterday Raymond was at his dad's house and it was sunny and a high of 40 degrees. It would have been a perfect day to get out and start the climb out of this rut I'm in. For some reason I cannot explain, I had insomnia Saturday night, so I stayed in bed until 9:00 a.m. Sunday. I got up for a couple hours, should have gone to church but didn't, and then went back to bed for a couple hours and slept hard. When I got up, Jackie Brown was just starting on TNT (it just happended to be on that channel when I turned on the TV). I got hooked... so I stayed on my couch during a perfectly sunny day and watched the first movie I've seen at home in quite some time! Yes, I also skipped showering and primping, and ate junk food. THEN Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2 showed, and I watched those, too! OMG, what's happened to me. Uma Thurman is such a f'n badass in those movies, you got to love Beatrice!

It's Monday, and I'm wondering if this will be the day I start my climb out of bonkville. I showered this morning, woo hoo. And I made it to work (although I don't usually bonk at work)! That may be all I can handle... I'll let you know tomorrow.

Kiss My...

Here's to me in my sober mood,
When I ramble, sit, and think.
Here's to me in my drunken mood,
When I gamble, sin, and drink.
And when my days are over,
And from this world I pass,
I hope they bury me upside down,
So the world can kiss my ass!

(Author Unknown)

This made me laugh. :)

Gone Running

One long lunch hour... gotta love it!

Mediocrity

I had a goal of running 11 miles today for my long run. Despite a call from work in the middle of the night that cut an hour off, I got a good night's sleep. Better than usual anyway. I had a Valentine's date with my son, and we had a blast hitting the beach ball in the living room, seeing how many times we could volley (14 was our high). One glass of wine, and I was in bed at midnight.

Up at 8:30 or so, I tooled around the house, got a couple things done, had my required cup of coffee and some oatmeal, and was ready to go. My daughter was home to watch Ray, so no worries there. But I was tired, not really feeling up to running. Everything else in line, that couldn't be my excuse not to go. So, I went.

Four and half miles in and I started feeling a familiar twitch in my right hamstring. Dang that thing, I can't completely get rid of it. Oh well, keep going. There's a bathroom, timing's about right, better use it. Leave the bathroom, and I've gotten cold. I'm all the sudden not feeling very good. I'm five miles in; I better turn around. I was on the trail, so it was basically a flat out and back. Holy shit, the wind is now in my face, and I am really feeling bad. Keep going, there's no other choice.

Ok, so I continue on in misery and at nine miles I officially bonk. For the first time ever (well, for me that's only the last three years) and I had to quit during a run. I started walking with a mile left, cold and hurting bad. What the hell happened? I started thinking about what being mediocre meant, because as far as running, that's how I view myself. Nothing outstanding, far from great... mediocre. But today was terrible!

Feeling Slothy

My mom and several relatives have been here this week to accompany her to some of her doctor’s appointments. That’s a whole other possible blog; suffice it to say my mom has metastatic renal cell carcinoma (a.k.a. RCC or kidney cancer), and is showing early signs of dementia (a.k.a. Alzheimer's). With all the company, and additional "stuff", I haven’t bothered to watch what I eat, and I haven’t ran in three days. All around, the effects are being felt.

I don’t want to be one of those exercise obsessed people, but working out every other day is a stretch for me. Five days a week (with a light sixth day) is really ideal, mentally and physically. The mental part is somewhat of a trade-off; I usually feel great after a good workout (or at minimum, some stress relief), but it can be draining just finding the time! Physically, well, I guess I’m addicted to those endorphins (yes, those are real).

So about now, I’m not feeling very good. On the other hand, there is good news, and hope! My mom's appointments and test results turned out better than expected, and less importantly, I’m going to get a run in today on my lunch hour. It’s gorgeous outside, and I’m feeling better just thinking about the sun, good music, and getting my heart rate up due to exercise rather than what the doctor is about to say. :)

I Just Remembered... Or Did I?

When my daughter was five, I began a relationship with a man who had a five year old boy. For quite a few years we tried to pound that square peg in a round hole, but it just didn't work. He's married now, but he was a father figure to my daughter, and they remain close.

His son and my daughter were polar opposites. My daughter was an "angel baby", never an issue. She minded me, was (is) as smart as a tack, was responsible, self sufficient, conversational... just smart. I didn't realize then, even though my mom told me, she was exceptional. David's son, on the other hand, was wild, always pushing the limits. He would stare off in la la land when David would attempt to explain something to him. He couldn't sit still for three minutes. To be quite honest, it drove me nuts.

The irony is that I now have a five year old boy, and he is exactly as Caleb was. I often think back at how impatient I was with Caleb (internally, not so much toward him), and I have a tinge of regret. David once cried when a counselor told him that Caleb was likely ADD, and medicine might be beneficial (an option he chose not to take). My son, Raymond, often has the same effect on me as Caleb did. He is such a handful; at times it just wears me thin. The difference is, when it's *your* child, it's different. You connect on a level that is all forgiving; you know he can't help it, and in so many other ways he is awesome.

Caleb is now 15, and a rather quiet young man. He's always been an awesome athlete, and now he's setting running records in his freshman year. His future is bright and exciting; he's already being eyed by coaches. The same energy that drove him as a five year old is now driving him to excel in cross country and track (and he'd have other options if he wasn't focusing on those).

I dated a guy last year who had a difficult time accepting Raymond; his kids were into TV and videos and were very controlled and submissive, where as Ray is curious and questioning, and would rather be hitting balls, playing soccer, or doing anything outside. His judgement of Ray made me feel terrible, and stressed me out when we were all together. When Ray got his first bike without training wheels last summer, he wanted to take it on the trail while I ran. He rode that thing six miles with me chasing behind him! Not bad for a first ride. The feeling of someone judging him made me so ill at ease; I know he's is not only going to be fine, but he's going to be awesome!

We were having dinner last week with David, his wife, and Caleb for my daughter's 15th birthday, and Raymond was being his usual excitable self. There was a lull in the conversation and Raymond piped up "HEY, I just remembered!" David and I were sitting on either side of him, and we both looked at him expectantly. He just kind of looked at us like "what the hell are you guys staring at". David and I both just cracked up laughing. As quick as he "just remembered" he evidently just forgot, and his mind was off to the next thing.

Winter Running

Last winter I trained like a mad woman, spinning at the gym every chance I got, and running there as well. My schedule with work and kids didn't let me get outside as much as I would have liked, and I must admit, I don't like the cold any more than anyone else. Come spring, my running was terrible; I could not believe what a hit my performance took.

This winter I have been on a treadmill all of two times, and both of those were following spinning. One of those was four miles in 30 minutes, so a 7:30 pace, which is quick for me. Following some advice I read somewhere this winter (wish I could give accurate credit here, but I just can't remember), I also set the treadmill on a 1% incline, which is supposed to more accurately simulate running on the road. That was a hard run (especially after a one hour spin)!

Most of this winter I have been running outside three or four times a week, five to 10 miles. Almost always I run in my subdivision, which is concrete and very hilly. Add to that the cold, and an extra few pounds from gear (yes, every pound does make a difference!), and I consider those runs pretty difficult.

This past weekend, with temps reaching the high 60's, I was thrilled to get out to the trail, in shorts and a ball cap... I felt so light! I ran 10 miles at an average pace of 8:30. I was surprised at that pace (surprised in a good way, just in case you're wondering...). Reviewing my Forerunner, the first six or seven miles were low 8 minutes. Wow, where did that come from? Then I died the last few miles (the last mile was a 9:40 or so), pitching my average up to 8:30. So I deleted those miles and... ha, not!

Just like spinning can't replace putting in miles on the road, the treadmill just isn't the same as "real" running. The difference between last winter and this winter has proven to me that running outside (with the added negatives of cold and extra weight) not only helps maintain your base, but can also increase your performance. That's been my experience anyway. :)

High Arches and Shin Splints

As is probably typical, when I first started running, I tried to become a marathoner over night. I did way too much, too soon, and suffered every injury in the book. This included achilles tendonitis, shin splints, hamstring issues, and the like. With some added strength training and rest and recovery, I was able to overcome most of my issues... except shin splints.

After about a year and half of battling shin issues, I grew a brain and went in for a gait analysis. It turned out I was running in the wrong shoes, but the real root of my problem was high arches. Not just a little high. I leave one of those funny footprints you see in the cartoons with the ball of your foot and five tootsies, and then a little round mark for a heel... with nothing in between. With each strike, my foot would collapse to the inside, and stress the tendon and muscle from my ankle, up my calf. My shins (on the inside) would continually be sore and very tender to the touch.

The best shoes I have found are Saucony Progrid Triumph, with Arch Mold inserts. Arch Molds are the best thing since sliced bread! As soon as I started using those, my shin splints resolved within six weeks, and I haven't had any issues since (about a year and half or so).

New Age Group Category

I still haven't decided what my goals are for racing this year. One day I think I'm all in, and other days I decide to take the season off and just do a few races to keep from regressing too much. Usually the latter is my predominate thought during weeks I can't fit in my workouts due to work and family obligations.

Joe Friel had a good story about a guy who focused so much on training and winning that his job performance suffered until eventually he didn't have a job, his wife divorced him and took the kids with her, and his friendships suffered as well. After all that, he crossed the finish line in first place, and when receiving his award said, "It was worth it..." What?!?!?!

Last week I had my younger child at home (so no morning run possible), worked through lunch hours (Consultants on site), and had Mackenzie's soccer stuff in the evening (and still with my younger one in tow). I missed my workouts on multiple days (in a row!), and it made me feel like crap. I really had to check myself and remember what is important in life... better to miss a workout than time with my kids. Mackenzie made me laugh when she jokingly said to Raymond, "Mommy sacrifices." Funny! But there's a lot of fruit in those sacrifices.

I also laughed the other day when I found myself daydreaming that USAT had announced a new Age Group category... Single Mother - Works 40 or more hours a week. I wish! :)