Friday, November 28, 2008

Run ... Eat ... Sleep

I know this blog has been lacking the angst and horrors of training for endurance events, but running has become almost like breathing (ok, maybe not quite like breathing ... but it's more of just a thing I do, than a sport).

All in all, training for this half hasn't been as event-filled as training for the full marathon. I stopped eating cinnamon rolls for breakfast and went back to eating bagels and bananas. Come to think of it, there was a lot of angst in that alone, but I managed somehow to push through the pain.

I went back to running 4 days a week plus a cross training day. I did two short runs (4 - 6 miles), a medium run (6 - 8 miles) and a long run (8 - 12 miles). I even cheated ... sometimes walking quickly and never actually running on the 4 milers. I ran in 22 degree weather (burrrrrrrrrrr ... it's not supposed to be that cold here yet) and I ran in the rain (albeit, only short runs). I ran on hiking trails, I ran on bike paths (naughty me), I ran on gravel (ouch), I ran on asphalt, I ran on treadmills ... but I ran. It's just what I did. I had some weird pain in my left foot, got some gel insoles for my running shoes and moved on. My fabulous chiropractors kept my knees, ankles and lower back in sync and 10 - 12 mile runs just didn't hurt like they used to. Weird, I know.

There were no crying fits, no flashing blue lights, and I didn't even take an ice bath this fall ...

So, Thanksgiving morning, when it was race time, I was pretty excited - I knew the course, our Governor had not recently been praying for rain, and the weather was supposed to be in the 30's and 40's during the race. Although I did not sleep well the night before, I think my concern was maybe focused on my friend "E" who was going to run with me. It was her first half marathon. She rocked! Although, I think she was ready to deck me a few times because I was so unusually perky in the morning. I picked her up at her house at 6AM ... jumping up and down while she was putting her stuff in my car. I kept the exhuberance level fairly high throughout the race and we chatted almost non-stop ... even sang Christmas carols. As in last year's run, it was a trip down memory lane for me, and as it turned out, a trip down memory lane for "E" too. So every few minutes (literally), it was a running commentary from both of us ... each making most of the same observations, just on different buildings ... "Ohhh, this is where I used to live", "this is where we got married", "this is where we had our reception", "this is where our vet was", "this is where I used to go to church", "this is where I go to church now", "that used to be a great restaurant", "that restaurant is new", "why are we running down the middle of Peachtree", "oh, right, the half marathon", "Lisa, when are we going to get to mile 8?", "um,,,er, "E" - we already passed mile 8, we're coming up on 9","this is where my husband works", "this is where my husband used to live", "ohh, there's the capitol building" ...

And then it was over.

We crossed the finish line ... received our medals (yes, they give everyone one) ... and all was good. We were even interviewed by a Fox news reporter "Why would you do this on Thanksgiving Day?" - was the question at hand. "E" answered first, "She (pointing at me) made me." I laughed. It was a very subtle campaign ... she just kept running with me and didn't realize all of the subliminal propaganda I was giving her ... masterful, I tell you ... I am brilliant.

In a nutshell, I ran, then I ate, then about 14 hours later, I slept ... am I sore today? Truthfully, no. I'm ready to run ... (shopping at least ... maybe just 4 miles tomorrow).

Who's in for next year?





Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Hand talking?

Today's post is prompted by this Tuesday's Heads or Tails meme - Heads: Anything you do with your hands ... to play or read more, please go here.

I tend to talk (<----insert gesture of fingers tapping thumbs mimicking a mouth opening and closing) with my hands - which is one of the reasons I like to type, because I think with my hands and the words "magically" appear ... there it is ... I've confessed my secret (or one of them anyway). If truth be told, I probably more accurately talk with my eyes, shoulders, posture, etc. ... but the MEME is about things you do with your hands and this came to mind, ur ... hand.)

In college, friends would grab my hands while I was talking to shut me up. Apparently, one (<---insert gesture of one index finger) phenomenon of hand talking is that if your hands are restricted(<---insert gesture of one hand grasping the other) in any way, so are your vocal cords (<---insert gesture of hands over throat/mouth). It's true, at least for me. (<---insert gesture of hand over heart)

I do know that when I was in my Freshman speech class in college, the professor actually asked me (<--- insert gesture of finger pointing to chest) to decrease the number (<---insert gesture of open palms in an downward movement) of gestures I used in delivery. She said (and I'm sure it was delivered with the appropriate gestures), "Lisa, you may want to consider only using gestures for significant (<--- insert appropriate gesture here) points in your presentations." Sure, ok ... then (<---- insert shoulder shrug, rolling eyes, and the "ok sign" made with your hand).

You can always tell if I'm tired, the gestures are much more subdued and when I pause in mid sentence - so do my hands ... I'm not making this stuff up people, it is what it is. Some have described me as animated ... well, I think that's very polite. Maybe it's a product of my Italian heritage or maybe there's a legitimate scientific link. I don't know (<---more shrugging, head shaking, and hands thrown up in the air).

As a side note in all seriousness, I think sign language is awesome and that even those that can hear, should learn it - it's so expressive ...

Maybe I should have made this a video blog instead ... but then I would not have gotten to type as much ... maybe next time. <--- insert hand waving bye




Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Where is ...

Today's post is prompted by this Tuesday's Heads or Tails meme - Heads: Wear or Tails: Where ... to play or read more, please go here.

"Where is ..." fill in the blank is the one question that fills my days and some nights ... I get phone calls, emails, taps on the shoulder, tugs on my shirt ... you name it. Apparently, I know - and those who ask, assume that I will share that information, correctly even.

I know where things are in the refrigerator, cabinet, pantry, laundry, basement, garage, toy box, closet, car, email in-box, and apparently my husband's computer (which I have to argue ... no, I really don't ... he just has a really organized file system, so organized that sometimes he forgets where he puts stuff ... ).

Let's use this as a sample ... you can substitute Chinese Mustard for whatever else comes to mind.

"Where is the Chinese Mustard?"

"In the refrigerator"

"Right, but where in the refrigerator?"

[In my head, I scream ... where it's been since we got the refrigerator] - but in my big girl voice, I say, "On the shelf with the other condiments."

"I assumed that, but where, exactly?

Here's where it gets tricky ... being that I answer the "Where is" question on a routine basis - dozens of times daily - I can use sarcasm, which might temporarily amuse me, but will render a loving and kind man insane or I can simply tell him. What to do, what to do.

The seconds are agonizing, as his egg rolls are getting cold ... tick-tock, tick-tock ...

"Hmmmm, I think it's to the left of the dijon and to the right of the Heinz yellow."

"Nope, I still don't see it ..." - a hint of distress, a smidgen of frustration ...

"Ahhhh, you might have to MOVE the ketchup."

Barely audible exclamation of joy ... "Got it ... thanks."

Now, here's the kicker ...how is it that I have the missing item radar in the first place ... and why it is that I can correctly locate hundreds, nay, thousands of items for my own family, but when I am in the presence of my own mother ... I have a total lack of recall? It must be some kind of weird retroactive gene that maintains dominance unless in the presence of someone with more experience ... I don't know, but it's freaky.

Here's a last minute P.S. - Several months ago, a back door house key was misplaced. The last person to use it, my husband, asked "where is ...". I suggested that he check his pockets, since he routinely checks all doors, etc. His alleged search came up negative, but only moments ago, the missing key magically reappeared. I asked, "Where was it?" He answered, "Apparently, it was in the pocket of one of my pairs of pants."

Huh. Who knew?

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

and ... After

When last we left our hero, Officer Dominic, he was unaware of the kitchen witch. Alas, when he departed to patrol the neighborhood, the house left the house un-guarded ("guard" - a toss to the Heads or Tails Tuesday Meme which is "Heads: Guard" this week).

Well, technically, our friends, Jack O., Scurvy, and Dog were "supposed" to be guarding the premises, but things kind of lit up, when the Officer struck out on his rounds.




Here's what happened...

The witch had a little too much brew, um ... stew ... stared in to the magic mirror, turned into
this (see above) from this (see to the right) ...



... and then was visited by G. Reaper.




Hilarity ensued ... the Officer returned, saw how much fun Reaper and the witch were having, and jumped on the band wagon ...






So the moral of the story is:













don't ever underestimate the influence of the kitchen witch when the house is left guarded by pumpkins named
Scurvy, Dog, and Jack.



Saturday, November 1, 2008

Before ...

Once upon a time ... before the Trick-or-Treating began ...


... in a red brick house with a black door, there lived a little boy with an orange shirt and vampire teeth ...

... and a pirate pumpkin head, named "Scurvy"
... and a cat pumpkin head, named "Dog".















Scurvy and Dog were kept in line by the Great Pumpkin, Jack O. who weighs more than the little boy. Jack O. is indeed a great pumpkin.

The little boy, who is in actuality, not so little, decided to support Jack O.'s efforts in defending the red brick house with the black door. In so doing, he chose to be a policeman for the annual hunt for candy, also known as Halloween.


---> Insert scary music here...

Unbeknownst to our hero, a witch was lurking in the kitchen ... brewing, some, um ... brew...
stew.
















... to be continued ...