Blowing The Cobwebs Off My Tennis Shoes

So today went as follows: woke up at five thirty, refused to get out of bed until six thirty, stressed stressed stressed, made a cup of tea, did some yoga, took a brief shower, put on some running gear, stressed stressed stressed, waited for my boss to pick me up. At eight thirty on the money, we made our way down to the 5k.

I had to chug some Pepto-Bismol before my boss arrived, followed by some water (hydration is key), because I was super anxious. It wasn't, "Oh, I am going on a light jog with Jen" but more of a "What the f*, I am going to a competitive race in the pouring rain WITH MY BOSS." In this case, only the strong survive.

When I popped in the car, I pretended to be happy to see her even though I secretly wished she had cancelled. We talked about throwing the entire thing off and just going to breakfast but we were already dressed so we made the effort. Upon arrival to the Lehigh Valley Parkway, the scene was chipper despite the rain. There were balloons (knocked over by the wind), pink shirts everywhere (hidden by ponchos), and a festive strech session (led by an overweight man). We made use of the toliets before starting to run our freezing toes off but I wasn't sure what was rain water and what was human water... Nonetheless, the coffers were empty, we lined up, the gun sounded, and out feet hit the pavement.... Errr... Mud.

The route was similar the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon but a little crueler. Right at the end of the first mile, there were two MASSIVE hills. The first mile is always the hardest for me with my body protesting the sudden movement. Objects at rest, for about twenty six years, like to stay at rest. The onset of the hills hurt. I admit, I had to walk at the top but once I hit the peak, I began to run again.

A similar thing happened at mile two but the hill was less steep so I managed to walk a little less and ran the rest of the way. Overall, I think I walked less than a quarter of a mile, which is pretty good considering that I haven't ran seriously since visiting Costa Rica in July. It's amazing what we can put our bodies through. Three months of drinking, occasionally smoking, and lots pizza still equates to an ok runner.

When we crossed the finished line, they yelled the time out to us. I heard 25 minutes, Jen heard 45, turns out we finished at 39 minutes. That's a 12.6 mile which I really don't mind since it was in the rain, uphill, both ways.

As soon as we got out of the herd of people that crowded around the end of the race, Jen looked to me and said, "Let's go." We did make an effort to pick up a free items, like water and a bagel, but beyond that, we had to bounce. Jen then took me out for a Mimosa breakfast. Nice.

There's No Bad Weather, Only Bad Gear

Ok REI, your motto is bull crap. Tell that to anyone who's been in a car accident. Did they just have bad all weather tires?? Surely that's driving gear!!

Here I am awake and petrified about running a 5k in 40 degree weather with INTENSE rain. The event is rain or shine and I'm running it with my boss so even though I want to chicken out, I can't. Layers. Lots of rain proof layers.

Yikes... Just Yikes

So tomorrow, I am off to run a 5k and it's SNOWING! The snow isn't sticking but it feels like ice outside. Brrr... And what's more, I haven't been running since Costa Rica (and I am not sure I ran more than three miles the entire time I was there) and I am running said 5k with my boss. This will definitely get me back in the game but I am curious how it will turn out... Any takers that I run the entire thing to prove I can?

Running in Circles Is SO Applicable

While I have not been running for some time, I have been very, very busy. This has allowed me to maintain my weight loss as being crazy is an excellent appetite suppressant. Firstly, my little sister had twins. YAY! Two big boys with red and black hair (fraternal twins - obviously). When I have down time, I am constantly shopping for them on diapers.com or the nursery section of gap.com. I NEVER thought I would be visiting sites of such a nature.

Secondly, I have severely upped my hours at the ad agency and this, in combo with the shoe store, has kept me busy. So busy that by the time I get home at night, I want to go to sleep rather than study for the GRE's - - which are coming up in seven, that's right, seven weeks. Yikes! So needless to say, running has not been the top of my priorities. I will, however, need to step up my game SINCE I am still running a 5K on Oct. 17th. Oh what a tangle web we weave...

Chipmunks, Death & Presents

This morning, while opening the blinds, I watched the cat chase something in the bushes. She looked up at me as to say, "Hi! Look at what I am doing!" And then, all of a sudden, she pounced deeper into the terrain and pushed out what I thought was a bird. It ran along the wall and up towards the porch with the cat following it. I went to the back door to see if the bird got away when I saw the cat coming up the steps... with a chipmunk in her mouth. I rushed over and closed the screen door - - I really did not want another dead chipmunk in the house - - and screamed for the boyfriend. There was an emergency and I really needed him to come downstairs IMMEDIATELY. He came down, sans clothes (it gets hot here at night), and sleepily stumbled to the back door. He's like, "The cat better not be doing something cute and that's why you woke me." Just as he said that, she turned her head towards us and displayed her kill - still in her mouth. The boyfriend chuckled, "Good girl, now you're mama's going to clean it up." No way. I did it once when he was bed ridden, that was more than enough. I don't do dead things. She eventually dropped the chipmunk and the boyfriend was able to pick it up to throw it away. Poor Alvin. Afterward, we thanked the cat for her present, as the polite thing to do, and went to make the coffee. What a start to the day.

September Slump

I don't know what it is about this week but I have not wanted to go jogging. I have the time and the energy, plus the weather is perfect, but I just don't have the passion. I think it's because I've developed a new habit - - coffee and cop shows. In the past, I wake up, am thirsty, slap on some running gear, grab a couple of glasses of water, and then head out the door for a jog. Recently, however, I wake up, am thirsty, grab a couple of cups of coffee, and sit in front of the tele scanning USA for whatever cop show they're playing. Today it was Monk. Yesterday, it was Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Both are pleasing. By doing this, I end up sitting in front of the t.v. for two hours rather than working out and/or studying for the GRE's. Sometimes, I fold laundry or run the Roomba so I can feel mildly productive but the rest of the time, I just work on getting the sleep out of my eyes. Why is that bad habits are so easy to make while good ones are so tuff? If we're really created in God's image, he's one lazy SOB.

Holy Trinity

I haven't decided whether I will run the 5k this weekend at the zoo since my usual running mate still has a bum leg. However, I am very excited to be running the Women's Classic 5K September 17th with two of my work buddies (one being my boss). Jen is incredibly in shape and Liza is more my speed (attempting to get in shape). Jen suggests we walk the race but I want to run it! Run run run! And with the three of us, maybe we can go at a faster pace than what I did the half marathon. After all, it's only three miles. See you at the finish line!

Army of Me

I finally got around to watching the Stephen Colbert episodes when he went to Iraq to support the troops. I have to say, these videos remind me of someone... I am not sure who but that person might be the author of this blog... The part where he attempts to go over the wall and the way he runs is pretty much me. Now, I am not IN basic training but I am trying to live my life in a similar manner... somehow his joke is my reality (and I totally have that iPod hat).

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Stephen Strong: Army of Me - Basic Training Pt. 2
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Save The Drama For Your Mama

My parental units were in town this weekend for their thirtieth wedding anniversary and my cousin's wedding in NYC. While they were here, I didn't do much jogging but somehow I still feel fit and trim. I think it has to do with all the prep work before and after the wedding. Since the boyfriend broke his leg, I'm the one that carries the luggage and the massive Williams & Sonoma gift around Manhattan, the one that cleans the house for parental inspection, and the one that picks up all the dry cleaning. The up and down with the luggage - on the bus, off the bus, onto the elevator, off the elevator - the in and out with the recycling - the clinging boxes full of bottles down one, two, three, four, five steps and then back up one, two, three, four, five steps for the next load - really toned my arms and legs. I even lost and inch or two around the waist from my sister's wedding as I wore some of the same outfits but they were much looser than what they were back in May. Since things have calmed down, however, I have returned to my regular jogging schedule. I'm losing a lot of water weight with this heat... the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. And of course, there's still the putting away of dishes, the folding of clothes, and the cleaning of the bathroom that the boyfriend can't complete. I feel like this toned arms and legs thing will be around for a little while.

The Hamster Wheel

What is it about human nature that makes us ok with the status quo? I have been trying desperately to better myself without making any real effort. I mean, I am "looking" for full time positions, "studying" for the GRE's, and "training" for a marathon but not really spending a sincere amount of time on any of these. In fact, all I really seem to be doing is talking about it. The bottom line is that I am happy with the way things are: part time at the shoe store, part time at the ad agency, and full time mooch. I started watching How I Met Your Mother because of the way they portrayed unemployment; Marshall stopped wearing pants and played video games all day while Robyn made beer floats. When asked how her job search was going, she would remark tartly with, "Didn't you hear? I'm the lead anchor on CNN." Unfortunately, both these characters went on to gainful employment and the show stopped being relatable (that's not true -I still think it's legend-wait for it-dary). I just don't see why I can't have the motivation like the cavemen did when it came to the invention of fire. You think someone said, "Hey, Grog, stop playing with those sparks from the sticks and rocks. Our pelts are just fine." No chance. We need the fire like we need the wheel but do we need the full time employment? Maybe one day but today, I am happy running my mile and wearing my new Shuze shoes.

That A Girl!

Yesterday I really, really did not want to go for a jog. The night before I did it Sally Fields style and got white wine drunk. Apparently I am a little out of practice and jibber jabbered the entire night. I couldn't hold my liquor - but it was holding me. Clearly, when I woke up the next morning, I wasn't in tip top shape. BUT I did attempt to jog - I slapped on my sneakers, wiped the sleep out of my eyes, and headed for the door. As soon as I stepped out into the not so fresh air (this humidity is GROSS), I decided not to jog but rather go for a very, very long walk. And I did. It felt nice, I still worked up a sweat, and I didn't leave my tennis shoes feeling neglected.

Change Of Plans

I am unsure whether or not I posted that I have moved my marathon from October 2009 to October 2010 (as I am too lazy to check). Well, I have. I am being a little honest with myself and know that the months I took off to help the boyfriend severely set me back AND that I wasn't doing that well to begin with. I am taking the extra time, running a few more races, and will be extra prepared for the October '10 race. Plus, this gives me more time to save some dough (Mom, if you're reading this, I would be more than happy to start a savings account for the trip in your name.... with your money. LOVE YOU!). The races that I will be running this year include a 5K at the end of the month (in a ZOO! Monkeys throwing poop at you is a great motivator), another half, and maybe the Goofy Run in Florida. That one we still have to think about since the hotels are super expensive outside of Disney World (hey Moooooooommmm). Besides that, I really have to find out where to go surfing on the East Coast... And how expensive that is. I don't want to pass up the opportunity to be good at something. Plus, when I get to the shore after surfing, I'll run from the sharks that think I'm a seal and indirectly be training for my marathon. Win win.

The Heat Is On

Oh my, it's warm. So warm, in fact, that the cat gets snippy when I move in front of the fan. In hopes of beating the heat, I jogged with a water bottle. It's squishing annoyed me and rather than drinking it, I decided to wear it. Ahhhhh water. Nature's fruit juice (wait, isn't fruit juice nature's fruit juice?). Upon returning from my heat sweltering jog, I decided to do a little weight bearing exercise and discovered that I will never be cool again. No sense in putting on makeup since I was sweating through my shower. To be honest, I kind of like it... That's right empty calories, leave me, leave me through my pores. Goodbye water retention, we were once very close. I will not miss you.

Luster for the Lag

What is it about travelling that completely poops you out? I travelled the entire day this past Wednesday and feel like I am not quite awake today. The hours to Costa Rica weren't that different, just three, but the travel time it took for us to get home... Ouch. We were far out on the Costa Rican coast, took an hour and a half to reach Liberia airport, rode a plane for the three hours, fought in customs for two hours, road another plane for three more hours, fought with the luggage attedent and paking gaurd, drove home, and went to bed at three in the morning. Thursday came around and I felt like I ran into a cement truck. Friday came and it was more of a brick wall. Saturday and Sunday, however, it's maybe being hit by a small SUV or large sedan. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to wake up when the alarm goes off, rather than snoozing for an hour, and jog. After all, how lame is it that I ran more on vacation than at home? Stupid jet lag... Do you have to rub it in that I am four years to thirty??

Do You Love Me, Do You Surfer Girl?

Turns out I am a natural at surfing. While we were in Costa Rica, we took advantage of the location and enrolled in lessons. I was certain I would be anything but good at the sport especially since my family and I went to Hawaii and took boggie boarding lessons. I spent most of my time eating salt water, getting beat up, and listening to the instructor yell, "Don't turn your back on the ocean! Don't turn your back on the ocean!." I didn't exactly take up wind surfing, skiing, or even water skiing no matter how many times I've attempted those. Shit, I am still trying to be good at running. Yet, somehow, someway, I managed to surf fairly well. I road in standing every time I attempted to get on the board AND I managed to get up without the instructors help. I did so well, the instructor showed me a couple of extra tricks and techniques. Since finding a sport I'm good at has been a challenge, I am going to stick with it and take a couple more lessons. Yay athletic ability!

Hola Mis Amigos!

We've been in Costa Rica for two and I have been jogging for two days. The boyfriend's new mommy is a physical fitness guru and the first day we were her, she and her husband roped me into going jogging. She's such an amazing trainer - whenever she heard my breathing becoming labored, we would walk. When she saw that I was ready to go again, we were running. I've only been running one to three miles a day BUT in this heat, it's more than what I was doing at home. Being with someone so positive makes the runs fun and enjoyable, even if they are embarrassing at times. 

Size Queen

Two days ago I finally made it out to do some shopping... It was a pain in my ass. When I tried on my normal size, the clothes were way too big. Score, right? I'm so fit! I went for the size down and, well, it was like shoving ten pounds of flour in a five pound bag. What the h? How can one feel gigantic and small at the same time? I ended up taking whatever fit and skipped the bikinis. Why not go to the beach in jeans and a t? It's not exactly a busy location we're going to soooooo no E! TV to put me on the "don't" list. 

Start, Pause, Repeat

I like the way most of my blog titles are "After A Brief Pause" or "Back in the Saddle." How many times do I stop running and then re-start? I've discovered that being athletic and constantly working out is HARD. When I signed up for the company Weight Watchers program at Cengage nearly two years ago, I made jokes to my co-worker that I would have to quit my job in order to complete the recommended work out sessions. In order to get more than one Weight Watchers point, I had to work out for two hours. Who has the time to work out that much every day? After a nine hour work day with an hour and a half commute one way, the last thing I wanted to do was work out for TWO hours. And now that I don't have a full-time job, but a series of part time ones, I still find that I don't have the time to run as much as I would want. Instead, I would rather sit on the couch in front of the television playing a game of "I don't know, what do you want to do tonight" with my significant other. In theory, that time wasted could have gone to a short run. So maybe it's not the time but the commiment to running. Apparently, I'm afraid of commiment on more than one level.

Work It Out

Now that we have less than a week before our beach vacation, I've decided to work out. I've been doing pretty well with running and lifting weights three times this week. Last week, that only happened once. I've been running a mile at a time but then do a 30-45 minute cardio routine with weight lifting. I am not trying to lose four dress sizes before Costa Rica, although I'd like to, but re-establish my routine. Jog, weight train, shower, work. It helps that I have to get up early in order to drive the boyfriend to his place of business. He has more mobility so rather than make his lunch, I go for a jog. The boyfriend's a big boy, he knows where we keep the puddin' snack packs and the chocolate milk. And I know where I left my dusty tennis shoes. They missed being used.

Shoe Therapy

One of the saddest things I hear while working at the shoe store is from middle aged women that say, "This store isn't for me, I'm just a mom." What do you mean this store isn't for your? Are there not shoes you like here? Does it have too much soul, too much fun that you can no longer enjoy? Does being a mother automatically mean disliking shopping? And when did you become "just a mom?" What were you before? Was there some sort of identity you had before becoming a mother that disappeared the moment you discovered you were pregnant? Or were you nothing before and the most you'll ever be is "just" a mom? It's odd - men never say things like this: "Oh, this store isn't for me, this store is for my son. I'm just a dad." No, it's solely women that box themselves into their unhappy lives; women that watch their daughters enjoy things like funky boutiques and fabulous shoes. It's like the mothers live vicariously through their daughters but then what happens when the daughters become mothers, too? Are they "just" moms now and everything they were before vanishes? Betty Friedan wrote the Feminine Mystique in '63 but now, nearly forty six years later, the ideas still ring true. What's more fulfilling than letting yourself go in a store you love with products you can't enough of. Mothers, daughters, sisters, and aunts, let's go shopping. After all, we're just girls.

End of An Era

Today I re-arranged my email accounts as my Berkeley account expired. Apparently, I have been out of college for three years now. I don't feel like I am a responsible adult. I feel like I am still that 21 year old that knows better than everyone else. But alas, I am not. I am the struggling adult that pays bills on time, worries about what to feed the boyfriend, and does the grocery shopping on Sunday. Goodbye youth, how I miss you.

Don't worry, for those who use the Berkeley email address, all emails are forwarded to my gmail account. I'll still receive them but when I reply, my gmail address will pop up instead of the Berkeley one.

You Wear WHAT While Swimming?

Since the boyfriend got his ouchy, there's been little time for Becca to do her jogging. So little time, in fact, that I've completely forgotten about Costa Rica at the end of this month. We have an all expense paid trip there AND I have gained weight by not being active (I'm active - just not athletically so). I heard that July is the rainy season for Costa Rica but I am thinking it's not like the rainy season in the Bay Area. I won't be able to hide behind layers, big boots, and scarves. No, all my wobbly bits will be out for the world to see in a teeny, tiny bikini. Le sigh.... Curse you American Society! If this were Europe, I would be hot!! Saggy boobies? No problem, go ahead and let them out on the beaches of Spain. Wrinkles? Pish posh, move to France and you'll be considered wise, intelligent. Ohhhhh places that don't require a firm waist and perky breasts, how I love you.

A Cure For What Ails Ya'

I've had sleeping issues where I wake up several times throughout the night and am more exhausted in the morning than what I was before bedtime. We alleviated one part of the problem with an automatic feeder for the cat. In theory, it's supposed to feed her five times a day including a session at midnight and five in the morning. These are her noisiest times so we were pumped about the purchase. Unfortunately, she thinks of the feeder as the "Magic Food Box of Terror" and cowers whenever it makes the whirly sound signaling a change of compartments. It takes her about two hours after the sound to gain courage and eat the food. This means two straight hours of meowing.
Besides the cat, I am pretty sure I have sleep apnea. I was telling my boss that I made a doctor's appointment for the issues and she went off on what drugs I did and did not need. Apparently, a time release pill is the best for me and it may or may not be called Ambien (I really can't remember - there were a long list of drugs). If I would ever like to "try it out," her handbag doubles as a pharmacy and she has plenty in stock. It's nice to know that others have similar issues BUT I'd like to get to the cause of the sleeping problems, not just the cure.

Suds & Duds

Yesterday I spent most of my time in the laundry mat as the last lightening storm shorted out our washer. When I was in college, I always thought it would be cool to have a laundry mat entitled "Suds & Studs." It would be part laundry mat, part bar with hot male bartenders. It would be obsessively clean and the hippest hang out for any college student. After all, college kids spend a fair amount of time in the laundry mat since washers are big investments. After yesterday, however, I realize what a terrible idea that was. Laundry mats are dirty and stuffy. There is no need to have a bar in one to prolong the stay even with the prospect of attractive males. Le sigh. Back to the drawing board for that one brilliant idea.

Back In the Saddle

After three and a half weeks, I have returned to running. It's my normal routine: walking down to the track with my shuffle on, clamoring into a lane, jogging until I can't stand the sweat anymore. Even though it hurt, it felt good. I only did a mile as there was a football camp using the field and it was HOT. I mean, phew! It's not even eleven yet and I am dripping wet. We'll see how tomorrow goes!

Suture Removal

So the suture removal today went AWESOME! The x-rays look good and the incision is healing nicely. The boyfriend has seven pins and a plate. There was no soft tissue damage and he's been given exercises to help before the PT. The doctor said we could go to Costa Rica if he's ok sitting around and not really taking part in the jungle fun. Tomorrow, he's going to work! Big boy! He no longer has to wear the immobilizer or the ace bandage so he can wear normal clothes and shower (no baths, hot tubs, swimming pools, etc). He also can't drive for a while, at least not until he can put a little weight on the foot and bend his knee. But, besides all this, things are on the up and up and slowly getting back to normal. Tomorrow, I will have SO much time on my hands. I can't WAIT!

My Kind Of Country

The other day I received a package from the Loch Ness Marathon Organizers with a brochure that included a training schedule for the marathon. The schedule for beginners is only three months long. This is extremely different than the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon which said one should be running twenty miles a week before training for the Half. I have a feeling the Loch Ness Organizers will make sure each individual makes it across the finish line, won't pack up while there are still runners, and will hand out Tennets at the end of the run. Oh Scotland, you're so mellow.

Do Unto Others

I am what's known as a "people person" in that I like people. I like talking to them, I like hanging out and making plans with them, I like checking in and catching up. However, I also like people to stay the hell away. Our neighbors, although I adore them, do not understand this. They think stopping by and checking on the boyfriend without calling or giving notice, while our house smells like B.O. and pizza, is more than OK. They also think using our fridge when theirs is full and putting a porta potty in our yard when having a party, because their yard is small, is also OK. This is not OK. I like my yard without shit in it and my fridge empty. This is the way I live. I started this lifestyle in college when I was on coffee and cigarettes. Now I am on coffee and slimfast so there's no real reason for food in my fridge. And no one likes shit in their yard. Got it, neighbor??

The Return Of Normalcy

So after the great break, life has been a little crazy. It's been my complete responsibility to bathe, brush, and dress my boyfriend. In addition to that, I have been in control of all the household matters like taking out the trash, doing the laundry, the cooking, the grocery shopping, the cleaning, mowing the lawn, and picking up dead chipmunks the cat brings in (true story) all while wearing a smile and saying supportive things like, "Yes, I know it hurts honey, how can I help?" My usual responses are "Sure, here's some vicodin" and "I think a nap is a good idea." This prevents me from saying things along the lines of "More water? No problem," and "Of course I can move that fan a little to left and bring an extra pillow." If he's sleeping, he has no idea he's uncomfortable and thirsty.

The first week was really tough. He's been bed-ridden from the beginning but recently he's been able to brush his own teeth, give his own sponge baths (trust me, these are NOT fun), and shampoo his own hair (for the first time today!). During the first week, none of this was possible. His bottom half of his leg was "un-hinged" and he was in a lot of pain. There were several curse words with some towards me but not because of anything I said or did. Furthermore, this was the week that I started my job at an advertising agency so I had some serious stress. Luckily, I work from home so I could tend to the patient as much as he needed.

The second week was even more stressful due to the surgery which happened a week ago today. It was an entire day of me waiting in the hospital, praying he didn't die. The night before the big cut, we had the talk about what to do in case something DID go wrong... I still have all his financial information, you know, just in case (wink wink). After the surgery, we worried about fevers, which are a sign of infection, and blood clots. I would go to work at the shoe store and call him ever hour on the hour. If he didn't answer or call back right away, I was convinced there was a blood clot and a dead boyfriend, in addition to a dead chipmunk, on my hands. Lord, that was scary.

This week, however, things seem on the up and up. I received my second assignment from the ad agency, the boyfriend can do a lot of things on his own (funny how he can get the snacks on his own but can't put them away...), and I have more time on my hands to run, study for the GRE's, and plan my diet. Being in charge of the food buying and cooking has been beneficial for the diet but there have been a few care packages that included cheese doodles, candy, and gift cards for chinese take out. It's a nice thought but horrible for my waistline. Now that we've gone through most of it, however, it's back to items like Leek and Potato soup, Lean Pork, and salads. Lots and lots of salads.

Don't Stop Believing

Oh my goodness, I have had quite a journey (like the reference above?). My little sister got re-married this past Memorial Day weekend with the week before we flew out being my last at Style. After I returned, I started my new job at an advertising agency. It's part time work, but the pay is AWESOME. On the same day that I started my new job, my bf broke his knee while playing soccer and now has to have surgery. Oy with the poodles already!

While in Newport Beach for the wedding, I was able to run in the mornings and keep up with my miles but since our return (a week from Tuesday), I haven't ran once. I am still working out in the house (yoga, strength training, etc) but with the chaos that is life, I haven't had a chance to make it to the track or even slap on some tennis shoes. Grrr... But the good news is, the bf will be fine and the wedding was a blast.

I say that sister was "re-married" because she's been married for about a year and a half. She and her husband had a ceremony for the little people, also known as "family." I was the Maid of Honor so I had to do all sorts like fluff the wedding dress, give a toast, and keep my mom from jumping off a ledge. Unfortunately, I didn't find out I was the MOH until the day of the wedding leaving little time to prepare. I am not sure how well I did since everything was a blur - but at least it was a fun blur!

Now I have to get back to my massive first advertising project, make sure the bf has plenty of meds, and at some point in the day, go for a jog. I won't stop believing I can do it!

Running in the Sun

All right, here comes my first run after the half marathon. How did it come that it took me so long to start running again? The week after the race, my body was zonked. Since then, however, I don't really have an excuse. My sister's wedding is next week which is good motivation to start running again. I need to remove that layer of blubber around my gut and shape up my arms in order to show them off in all my dresses. Operation lose fifteen pounds in five days commenced! Come on, you know we all want that ability.

Before running, I had to clip the chip off my sneakers. It's the end of an era... Ok, not really. It's the start of a whole new one.

After returning from the run, I have to admit, it wasn't that bad. I only did a mile and a half to ease my way back into it but probably could have done more. There's always a could have, should have, would have. The heat was getting to me (it was supposed to rain today! what's with this sun?) so I decided to call it a day.

Once in the house, I did some yoga to help stretch the old limbs and now I'm off to shower before heading to the neighbors for some grub. I hope it's fish. I like fish.

Panic. Attack.

I only have four months to raise enough money and get in shape to make it to and through the Loch Ness Marathon. Yikes...

Race Results

There were 4,790 runners in this year's half marathon and 3,096 finished. I came in as person number 2,996 with a total time of 3:01:05 running a 13:50 mile. That's nearly double what I used to run in high school but hey, I am nearly double the age.

Mango Coconut Kiwi Vodka Smoothies

Time to celebrate! I reached one of my goals! And so I shall. You want to hear something funny? While running the half marathon, I was decked out in my fitness gear (and I look precious in it - - I know, you've heard) but what was odd were the people on the sidelines... Also in fitness gear. Ummmmm.... You're not running, right? Where are you off to next? The gym? Please say yes. Otherwise, lame.

It's All In The Details

Yesterday was the big half marathon race day and I have to admit, I really enjoyed the experience. I woke up at 6:30 (woah, what?), was super nervous, tried to get ready despite my nerves, and then made it over to the Allentown fairgrounds. From there, we walked up to the starting line. Before going thirteen miles, I decided to use the toilet. Apparently, so did everyone else. I stood in line determined to at least not give up on that challenge. Little did I know getting to the front of the line was the least of my challenges - - while in the toilet, I worried I was going to get swine flu.... ew.

After the use of the germ factories, it was time to run. We followed the masses over to the started line and waited. The half marathon was staggered - the 5k people went first, then the really fast people, then the kind of fast people, and then me. They had a band at the starting line and every one did a count down. THREE, TWO, ONE, RUNNNNN!! And we did! Well, we jogged. The group of people was so large we had to trot a little ways before actually crossing the starting line. We knew were it was since there was a massive sign reading "Start." I turned to the "trainer" and said, "It's just like in Wii Fit!" And it was.

While running, I created a new record! As soon as we crossed the three mile line, I waited five feet and then said, "A new personal best!" In fact, I ran for four and a half continuous miles. That's more than twice what I normally run in one go. We walked for a little bit, ran for a little bit, took some power gel (which tastes like crap) and water when offered, and then ran again. This time for only two miles before walking a mile and then made sure we crossed the finish line running.

The last two miles weren't that tough but in order to reach the finish line, we had to run up a hill and then run one lap around the college track. Boo on that. By the time we got there (the entire half marathon took us three hours), all the awards were given out. That was one annoying element of the run - - when we passed certain points, the bands were packing up. I paid sixty dollars and was promised thirteen bands. Play, bitches, play!

Truth be told, there were a fair portion of people still cheering us on. I really appreciated that. The Team in Training runners had all sorts of Team in Training supporters on the side line cheering as we passed. They made sure they helped the last person cross the finish line. The people that put the race together (Lehigh Valley Roadrunners)? They were helping break down the tables and band tents. They have a need for speed - not camaraderie. Athletes. Whatev's.

When we did cross the finish line, they gave me a bottle of water, a fire blanket, and a medal. The guy that put the medal over my head said, "Look over there! Your husband is tearing up!" The "trainer" blamed it on the weather but I prefer to believe the medal guy. Where's the medal now? The "trainer" is napping and snuggled up with it.

After the half marathon, I was a little tired. My knees hurt a bit and I took a two and a half hour nap at the end of the day. I picked up the house, watched some tele, took care of the trainer, and ate. Oh lord did I eat. Anything with cheese went in my mouth: pizza, cheese salsa & chips, plain old cheese, mac & cheese, and so on. After the nap, I wanted a serious quesadilla. I settled for Indian food. With cheese.

In the end, I was a happy girl. I had to ice my knees and ate a little too much but I was proud. I was proud I ran nine miles and walked four all in a day. Shoot, all in three hours. For a former chain smoker, this is big. Even at that, for a person that lives in the modern era, this is big. Do it again? Heck yes. Next time, I'll run the whole way. Right, "trainer?"

First Time for EVERYTHING

The last six months have been a roller coaster: I experienced culture shock in my own country, I completely gave up smoking, I witnessed my best friend get married to an amazing man, I experienced unemployment (for a little bit too long - am still experiencing that, actually...), I went skiing for the first time, I saw a buffalo, I carried a watermelon (at a fashion shoot for food), and I finished a half marathon. Gosh, I am tired.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I'll Run You Tomorrow

So tomorrow's the big day and I am so unprepared. We picked up my race packet this afternoon and my ankles started seizing. It was psychosomatic. Walking around with a bunch of real athletes?? What was I thinking?!?! I am not an athlete! I don't even like shopping for athletic clothing and I LOVE SHOPPING! That's what I do all day at work and then come home and shop online! Did you hear running in any of that? That's because I don't run. Ever. Never. Not even a little. I go to sporting stores and get bored. I opt to wait in the car, in the heat - - and I hate almost as much as I hate running. Man, if I wanted a challenge, I could do a crossword puzzle. WHAT THE F!?!?

The good news is there were free samples in the race packet. Yay! Moisturizer!

Three Days to Lift Off

Let's recap, shall we? I have three days until my first half marathon. In fact, this will be my first athletic event since high school (I really don't count that day in college step class where I had to perform my personally choreographed step moves). The "trainer" suggests that we run three miles, walk a mile, run three miles, and so on. I am so game to that plan. I know it will be tough haul but I can run three miles at a time. At least for a little while.

The forecast, however, is in my favor. The local paper is calling for rain (here rain, heeeerrrreee rain - sorry, I digress) and I do much better in cooler weather than the hot stuff. Warm weather results in an uncomfortable, ornery Becca covered in heat rashes. I don't want blisters AND a heat rash! Anyhoo, wish me luck. And meet me at the finish line with some Vodka.

Oh Crap

I totally forgot I need to go jogging today and here I am, on my porch, drunk. One week to go and I haven't quite given up the booze... or the white grains. The farthest I can run? Two miles. I should be able to kick it up to thirteen by next week. I know it. Or something. Less blogging, more booze!

Getting Fit. Wii Fit

I have addiction. It's name is Wii. My mom sent over this massive package for my birthday full of bunny peeps, candies from my home town, post its and other stationary, and the best present of all: the Wii Fit. I am on this damn thing an hour a day hula hooping my ass off (I also quite like the penguin game where I try to catch fish). I even run a mile and a half in place waiting to hear what a "Calorie Incinerator" I am. I INCINORATE calories. Take that calorie bitches! The problem with the Wii Fit? I spend so much time on it inside that house that I get annoyed when the neighbors stop by to chat (can't they see I am playing Wii?) and it prevents me from running outside. The “trainer” says I should have a new goal - learn how to run a marathon by only using the Wii Fit. Challenge accepted. Huzzah!

Just Blog It

Last night I felt like I was in my own Nike commercial. I started running late, as I always do, and dragged the "trainer" down to the college track after dark. He wasn't running but wanted to make sure a sweet looking girl like myself didn't become a Lifetime Original Movie. Isn't that nice? As I was running and he was Iphoning, it began to rain. After lap three, the lightening started. I kept with it, pressing hard, and felt like a champion. I watched through the window as the muscle men in the gym pumped iron and thought, "Wussies. Get out here and challenge Zeus to a race." After about ten minutes of the rain and lightening, I went back inside. Still, I ran in harsh elements. And kicked ass.

Want to Go Jogging With Me?

I ask my "trainer" about five times a day if he wants to go jogging with me. He almost always answers no. Then follows up with why - I am too slow. Harsh. And besides, speed's not everything. Think the tortoise and the hare. The other day, however, I did convince him to run with me and we made our way down to the track. Upon arrival, we discovered legitimate athletes using the track. I wasn't about to run in front of people that had muscles and fitness so we made it over to the local park. Unfortunately, it was a BEAUTIFUL day out and loads of people were in the park. I hate running in front of an audience. I only display the wobbliness of my wobbly bits to a select few. Plus, I push harder than what I do if no audience. After a massive jog in record time, I wanted to die. I was looking forward to the next day when the track would be free.

The next day came and I made my way to the track.... still in use by the physically fit people. What? Why aren't these people in doors? Come on, be like the rest of us! Show offs. Rather than heading to the park, I decided to run home. After all, it was hill running practice. And so I jogged and jogged and jogged and THEN I fell. I tripped over a freaking pine cone and my weak ass ankles gave out!! Personally, I blame the real athletes. And the pine cone. I always knew nature had it out for me.

Weak Ankles, Weak Ethics?

With all this activity and what not, I have realized that my ankles are only good for an eighty year old. The "trainer" suggested that I spell the alphabet in the air with my feet five times in a row. I can manage three before cramping or needing an ice pack.

Take That Arnold

Ok, I feel much better after running last night. I ran twice as long with little pain and sweating. In fact, the only pain I felt was the blister that developed from the distance. This massive push could be from my getting into shape but I think it's from something much greater than that: I'm a terminator. That's right, I am a machine so powerful that the only way to destroy me is by deposing of my chip and setting my machine body on fire. I can't tell if I am good terminator or a bad terminator but maybe on my next run, I'll get a visit from Glenda The Good Witch and she'll let me know.

Run Fatgirl Run

Running is hard and every time I do it, I feel like Simon Pegg in Run Fatboy Run. I get halfway around the track and I’m winded, craving a Marlboro. Then, my shirt pulls up just enough to expose my wobbly bits known as my stomach. It's not as hairy as Simon Pegg's but the size is comparable. I do make it around the track a couple of times - enough to feel slightly good yet depressed all the same. It wasn't the distance I originally set out to run, but at least I ran. I smugly walk off the track as my Indian landlord yells at me. Ok, that last part doesn't happen but I do have trouble running and I do remind myself of Simon Pegg. My first run after the ten-day pause was horrible. I usually take comfort in the fact that while I am not a professional athlete, I look adorable in my running gear (always important). But that day, I just looked swollen. I am sure my left butt cheek is twice the size of my right butt cheek and it really showed on Thursday. Furthermore, running around the track was comparable to a terrorist attack. I was sweating, confused, and in serious pain. The mucus made it all the way up to my eardrums for a throbbing effect. Pump pump pump pump. Fiberglass replaced my fleshy lungs and they hurt so much, they itched. I have never heard of itchy lungs before. Then, later in the evening, my ankles ached. So, after this cheerful blog, I am out to do it again. Yay?

Running In Spirit Is Not Enough

The last week and a half has been beyond busy for me. I turned 26 (let's not talk about how I am 26 year old intern with loads of debt), my bff got married, I helped open a shoe store, had a magazine event, and a massive fundraiser for the radio station. In the past ten days, I dealt with all that and ran only twice. Awesome. How many days to the half marathon? Not enough. I am getting back into my routine tonight and as I nosh on my chocolate chip cookie, I am mapping out my route. That's another thing, my diet has been out of whack with all the running around (but no actual running). Mac & cheese last night, Taco Bell the night before, and then pizza on Monday. My birthday brought tons of chocolate and birthday cake. Mmmmm cake. A friend of mine from high school said I type this blog while munching on asparagus and carrots. HAHAHHAHAHAHA! Yeah right, my stomach wishes. Hey tummy, you a little upset from that mac & cheese? Let me settle you with some carmel popcorn. I am sure going to the grocery store and replenishing my fruit bin would help, but who has the time?

On another note, my yippiness (yuppie hippiness) was challenged at the magazine event. I know, you are shocked. No one is more of a yippie than me. But someone had the audacity to say I was not a good enough yippie because I don't grow my own organic fruits and vegetables. Ummm.... I tried gardening and never got around to it so now I have organic foods delivered to my house. I also lived two blocks from Chez Panisse, Alice Waters' restaurant. For those of you who don't know, she's the "inventor" of the slow food movement. I lived in the center of yippiness. I don't think I need to grow my own organic food with connections like that. Scoff, I am SO a good yippie. Now if only I could be a good runner...

Hello Soreness, My Old Friend

I intended on running three miles yesterday but it was raining, dark, cold, and I was SORE. Sore in places I didn't know I could be. Sore in places I didn't know existed. Alas, the "trainer" pushed me to at least run a mile. He was kind enough to run it with me after his soccer game. That's right, the kid played an entire soccer game before running a mile. He apparently hates himself. We walked down to the track for my ankle's warm up and it was nice having someone to talk to. Once we got on the track, however, he kept talking. Ummmm.... It's hushy time now so shhh! It took all the energy I had to run said mile leaving me very little to concentrate on a conversation with. I did it, and have been paying for it since. Ouchy - are my butt cheeks supposed to feel like this?

Let's Hear It For Accomplishments!

I've been reading many expensive books on running at the local Barnes & Nobles and I have to admit, they scare me a little. They talk about running six months before starting any real marathon training and then running hardcore for sixteen weeks before a half marathon. Ummmm.... I have five weeks. And I just started running. After having a panic attack, I realized that these runners are different than me. They are looking to do a personal best and perhaps even run the thirteen miles within an hour. I am looking to finish the half marathon. I would prefer to do it without blisters the size of my head but if blisters happen and I finish, I'll be happy. Don't get me wrong, I've gone into hardcore training mode with the running almost everyday and no junk food thing but I am not looking to become Flo-Jo. I am looking to finish. This may sound like a cop-out but it's not; I have already gained from this experience. I lost nine pounds, I put down the camel lights for good (even when I drink), and my diet improved substantially. I have one goal: finish; and it's brought me so much more. I am, however, going to get health insurance just in case this experience also brings me injuries.

I Just Keep Runnn-ing

Today I ran a mile and a half and tomorrow, three miles. This is quite an achievement for a former smoker (both the green stuff and cigarettes - what you think Obama was the only one? If anyone asks, it was for my cataracts). I've been having a problem with my ankles so the boyfriend suggested walking down to Muhlenberg College and running on the track there. The walk would act as a warm up and help with the ankle pain. I gave it a whirl and sure enough, very little ankle pain when doing my six laps. Nice. He's become my official "trainer" and helps me decide what to run & when. It's about time his experienced running ass gave me some tips.

The Prodigal Wine Returns

Ahhhh La Crema, nice to see you again. I missed you. I won't see you until after the half marathon but that Sunday night, be ready to party. Until then, let's watch James Franco and Sean Penn kiss while eating chocolate truffles. La Crema, you my only friend.

Bringing My A Game

One of the nice things about having a cat is that sometimes it wakes you up early in the morning giving extra time before work. After feeding Gabby and sending her out to hunt the morning bird, I've set down to blog and jog. Running has not been easy. I am trying very hard to ignore that I am not a runner and have never been as I am determined to become one - - and a good one at that. Not just one that runs from the cops or to the fridge but a proper athlete. And so I press on. But pressing on has produced this cough that the boyfriend calls "runners cough." It's a lot like smokers cough but apparently better. He says it stems from not doing enough aerobic exercise and so while my muscles might be in tiptop shape, my lungs aren't. The good news, however, is that my lungs will get into shape a lot quicker than my muscles did. That is good news. I have five weeks to run 13 miles. Given the time, I have to step things up a notch. On the weekdays, I will now run in the morning and the evening with yoga before bedtime. Let's see if this helps whip my lungs into shape. Take that body.

The Shape Of Things

I am bothered by the response I've had to my facebook status update stating that I am embarrassed by my abnormally round head. I thought this remark would go unnoticed but it has garnered a response comparable to my status on being naked and ordering pizza. This response is not helping with my neurosis. I became aware that my head is extremely round when I started working for Historic Bethlehem and had to wear the bonnet (or haube as it's called by the Moravians). With all the hair pulled off my face, I was nothing but cheeks and skull. Recently, my bangs have been a little too long so I’ve been pinning them to the side. Again, nothing but cheeks and skull. Yesterday, I had an interview with the archivist in Bethlehem for an article I am working on. After leaving the interview, I looked in the mirror and again saw nothing but cheeks and skull sprinkled with pimples. At this time, I was a little embarrassed at what the archivist had to look at and hence my status update. Response has been along the lines of “you take after your mother” and “at least it’s not a square head.” Wait… Does this mean everyone agrees with me? And that my abnormally round head runs in the family? Do people think we are some sort of lollipop guild? That we should have been the sequel to the SNL sketch comedy Coneheads? The Roundheads? If you excuse me, my abnormally round head and I have to go cry.

French Women Don't Get Fat

In addition to all my many goals, I've decided to read all the books we own I haven't touched. At first it was going well enough but then the fella started buying more books and hasn't stopped. I can only read so quickly and he buys three to four at a time. DUDE! Seriously! Regardless, I've been trudging on and right now I am on French Women Don't Get Fat (which I shamelessly stole from my mother). It is so typically French. I can hear the cheesy accent saying, "You American women are so FAT while we French women eat everything we want and stay so skiiinnnnyyy." Then Frenchie proceeds to talk about how the book is not a diet book but steps on how to live French. She suggests writing down all consumption, measuring food, and then having nothing but leek soup for forty eight hours. Ummm.... Isn't that exactly what a crash diet is? Then there is genius advice like don't eat just pastries, don't have so much soda, and of course, the shocking bit of information, eat more vegetables. I remember when this book first came out and it was all the rage. I haven't heard much about since and that's probably because people read it. All in all, it does give some pretty good tips (like having a glass of water before going to bed and first thing in the morning because sleep is dehyrdating) but does she have to be so French about it?

So This Is What Death Feels Like

We might want to hold off on that Rocky music for a little while - - I am not as fit as I thought I was. Today (drum roll please) I went for my first jog.... Shortly after, I wanted to die. In the beginning, everything was great. I did my little stretches, had my favorite running pants (they shrank in the wash and don't quite reach my ankles anymore but still work), and though I couldn't find my running watch, I thought I could wing it well enough. I bounced down the back steps, trotted across the grass, and was on my way. Ahhh the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. Such a lovely experience. For the first five seconds. After that, my ankle felt like it was going to snap in half, I turned to go up a hill which caused serious spleen pain, and I am pretty sure I pulled a calf muscle. All this from being outside for twenty minutes. And I didn't even run the entire time. I think I ran five whole blocks. Shit, I would be impressed if I ran five blocks. I did, however, burp up my falafel sandwich a couple of times. That made me kind of hungry. I really wonder if this marathon thing is going to work out. Despite my first try, I hope it does.

Perfection

In the perfect world, I would be able to jog before work but only after I've made the coffee and my brown bag lunch. Of course, I would also need to feed the cat, scoop her poop (ew - but at least it's once a day), feed the fish, shower, do my makeup (perfectly), and my hair (again, perfectly) all the while pulling into the IDP Creative parking lot at nine sharp. Unfortunately, this is not a perfect world and most of the time, I arrive with my hair wet, no makeup on, and fifteen to thirty minutes late. Did I mention I work at a style magazine? No makeup and wet hair equals no style... At the very least, I have been a master chef so while my mornings may not be perfect, my evenings are. The other night I made roasted mini tomatoes and prepared steak while tonight was a beautiful portion of pork tender loin with spinach and mustard dressing. De-lic-ious. And the wine was nice too. La Crema. You're so my best friend. Especially right now. Mmmm... Perfect.

Running Schmunning

I received another mass email from the organizers of the half marathon and this one was scary; it said by this point, I should be running 26 miles a week. I asked the boyfriend, who was a cross country runner in college (and did quite well), if this is true. His response? No, but you should be running. What does he know anyway?

At the Tone, The Time Will Be

On the weekdays, I am supposed to wake up at seven thirty. What time do I wake up? Eight thirty. Thirty minutes before I'm to be at work. And I have a twenty minute commute. On the weekends, I can wake up whenever I want. What time do I wake up? Seven thirty.

Give Me an M!

After Monday's post, this week became the week of junk food. Monday evening we had pizza, Wednesday was Chinese food, and on Thursday, the worst culprit of all: McDonald's. I haven't had it in ten years and as I pulled off the freeway on my commute home, I saw it with it's yellow arches glowing like a halo. I kept things sized small and ordered from the dollar menu but the damage was done. After the food, I was moody. I mean, there's no real reason to pick a fight with the boyfriend when he's agreeing WITH you. But I did. Everything he sad MAKE HULK MAD! I even yelled at the cat when she ran around my work out mat meowing. I picked her up, yelled, and shook her. That's right, I shook the cat (it sounds like a detective novel: the woman who shook the cat). I don't think I have ever uttered a harsh word towards this creature and there I was, shaking her in rage. The McDonald's acted as reverse steroids with all the same side effects - pimples, moodiness, oily skin, shrunken testicles... wait... - but made me fat rather than strong and a star athlete. I don't think the steroids and physical fitness is worth the rage and constantly terrifying the cat. McDonald's, if you're reading this, prepare to pay for my pet therapy bills.

Losing It

I lost nine pounds!! And without even really trying. I was unaware of this since the last time I stepped on a scale was in December. I do feel a bit trimmer but I still have my wobbly bits so I didn't think I was doing much good. Although it makes sense. I've been working out three days a week since Jan and eating fairly well. I cut out the take out, have been cooking at home, and eating organic. We signed up for an organic delivery service (puresprouts.com) as I read an article that eating organic increases nutrient absorption by 25%. This is super important for lovely ladies, such as myself, who don't drink milk but get their calcium from cheese and yogurt. Moreover, lettuce is sprayed with pesticides more than any other fruit or vegetable and is the main component in salads. Since women eat more salads than men, we ingest those chemicals more often. Ew. I am a salad eater. Keep those cancer causing agents away from me. So anyhoo, I lost nine pounds! And I eat less chemicals than I did before! This is one small step for my marathon running, one giant leap for the Rebecca. Small victories on a Monday.

To iPhone Or Not To iPhone

I am not a recessionista. I am a consumer, through and through. Although I know the economy is in the dumps and I should pinch every penny in case the unimaginable happens and I have to stand in line for bread or soup, I don't. I spend every penny. If it's slightly shiny like a penny, I try and spend that too. That’s probably how I ended up so broke but I am not one for financial lessons. Don’t get me wrong, I talk about cutting back but the more I talk about it, the more I seem to spend. It’s like trying to be quiet in a room when there’s someone sleeping – you try so hard but the more you try, the louder you are. Maybe this is the same for running – the harder I try to be healthy and run, the lazier I become. I think from here on out, I am going to be the laziest I possibly can and voilà, I’ll be a runner. And I can track my running progress on a new iPhone.... But not my period. iPeriod equals creepy Apple. Creepy.

It's Like You Know Me

Last night I received an email from the Lehigh Half Marathon people reminding me that the deadline to switch from the half marathon to the 10K is March 13th. Perhaps if my training hasn't gone well, I should switch. Wait a minute.... have they been reading my blog??? I'M FAMOUS! I'M FAMOUS! Oh, this is a mass email.

Anyhoo, thanks for the email Half Marathon people but my broke ass paid the sixty dollars to run those fourteen miles so gosh darn it, I am doing it. I don't care if I crawl across the finish line, I am my father's daughter and will get my money's worth. Have those paramedics ready, I'm a runnin' this thing!

Wait a Minute...

Didn't the weather get the memo?? We are two weeks away from spring - - why is there still white crap falling out of the sky? No, schools are not supposed to be canceled today, it's almost spring time. Go to class kiddies! GO! I am begging you! Mama needs some sunshine. I swear, I have never watched, read, or listened about the weather as much as this year. It's odd, the dust bowl happened during the great depression and now we have the great depression take two with the snow bowl. The great economic blizzard of 09!

Sorry To Leave You

My goodness, has it really been that long since I posted last? I believe it has - time flies when you're busy beyond reason. So let me up date you on my happenings. Last week, I was on vacation. The week before that, I was super ill. I worked out once that week and then sat on a germ infested metal box for six hours to go skiing. YAY! Skiing! It didn’t help my cold but was slightly worth it. For those who have skied before, I bet you are jealous. Well, you really shouldn't be. I have never been skiing before and I spent more time on the ground rather than actually heading somewhere. My arse looks like a throw pillow because a) it's soft and squishy and b) it has all the colors of the rainbow in unique and interesting designs from the various bruises. I think I could have avoided said bruises if I didn't land on my ski boot every couple of falls. That's right, I fell so hard I came clean out of my boots and landed on them. Ouchy. But, I am home, ski boot free, and ready to run in the fresh spring air. It's amazing how much the weather can change in just two weeks... Two months to go for my first big run. YIKES! Hopefully my entire body can change during that time.

Hot N Cold

As the weather warms up and the snow melts, I am more inclined to start running outside and make use of the gym. When snow is all over the roads, I try to drive as little as possible. The skidding around and losing control of my non-snow-tired car tries my patience. Now that there's been a regular heat wave of 40F, the snow is melting and the outdoor world is no longer dead to me. Hello birdies! Nice to see you! I am sure we'll get together real soon - as soon as the cat brings in your carcass. Yum.

I am looking forward to actually running since a) that is the purpose of this blog and b) the workout videos in the living room are OK but not my cup of tea. For one, the cat runs around my mat meowing like we're playing some sort of game and the boyfriend comes downstairs making comments about the sexy girls. Sweet, you might think, but he's not talking about me and the cat - he's talking about the girls on the tele. He asks if I'll look like that after I finish the work out video, or how someone like the girl on the left can move so quickly with weight "up top," all while eating ice cream on the couch behind me. Then there's always the classic, "She seems nice." Nice? The girl isn't talking. She's just running around in skimpy little shorts. Nice my fat ass. To his credit, he did partially do a video with me the other day. It was the only video that's made me sweat and he did it in flannels and a snowboarding shell. Half way through the workout, I gave him the weights and I don't know how he didn't spontaneously combust from the heat. All in all, I wish I had a video camera to catch these classic moves (especially when the boyfriend did the mambo) but at the very least, I'll have the memories. Wait... that's no good for blackmail...

At the end of the workout he said, "I am proud of you for doing this." That sent me straight to cloud nine - le sigh. How one man can redeem himself so quickly is amazing. This just in: I’m a sucker.

Holy Crap! It's Official

Today I did it: I signed up for the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon in May and (drum roll please) the Baxter's Loch Ness Marathon in October!! That's right ladies and gents! This blog officially has a purpose and may even amount to something!! WOOHOOO! See you at the finish line!

I Know It's Fabulous, But Please Get Off My Ass

The weekend seriously puts a damper in my workout schedule which is odd since before I started this program, I only worked out on the weekends. It was my Saturday morning routine with the gym followed by breakfast at a local diner. Now, however, working out three plus days a week doesn't make Saturday such a necessity. I therefore find more time for exciting things like cleaning the toilet. Yay! Saturday fun.

I haven't worked out since Thursday and even though I don't have anything health and fitness related to say, I still feel compelled to talk to you. Today I will vent about the Pennsylvania drivers. They're awful. For some reason, they feel compelled to get right behind you despite the gigantic yellow signs that say "Don't Tailgate." In California, that's just a given. It's like the driver's ed instruction went like this: Five second rule? No, that doesn't exist. Silly teenager. What you do instead is get right behind that person in front of you. You know you're close enough when they start to panic and stare in the rear view mirror. Now the speed limit, that's the starting point so begin there and go up. Ninety-five is fine - even on this two lane road. Ah, here we come to a yield sign. Now yield means to floor it and swerve around the cars already on the road. Good, very good. Uh oh, there's some traffic up ahead. What you do in this situation is go around the stopped cars by driving on the shoulder. No need to slow down from ninety-five and no, the shoulder is not for emergencies. Op - you slowed down a little. Better get back up to ninety-five. And remember: green means go, yellow means go faster, and red means get past the oncoming traffic quickly cause they'll be coming at you. If you do every find yourself stopped, just honk your horn. That's to let everyone know your foot is off the gas pedal. Very good! 'A' for the day!

And scene.

I am adjusting to the drivers here and the other day, I even went ninety on the turnpike. I am strangely pleased as I feel like I am fitting in. I didn't die, didn't get pulled over, and didn't take off. I did, however, poop myself. Hi Mom!

Keeping It Green But Not Real

One of the coolest things about working for a style mag is that I learn of all the new salons first. The other day I did an article on a salon (Lux "The Eco Friendly" Salon opened the day of the interview) that is nearly 100% organic. The hair dyes and waxes are organic, the towels are organic, the floors are bamboo, the paint on the walls is lead free, and the pens near the register are recycled. The owner did pretty much everything she could to make sure it was one hell of a green salon and I did everything I could to get an appointment asap. I like the idea for one (I did move from an über liberal area where people live in trees) but I am also searching for a local beauty shop where I feel comfortable hanging my hat. And coat. And scarves. And gloves. Did I mention it's snowing here and cold? Anyway, I had my appointment last night and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. The prices were so reasonable that it was only eighty bucks for highlights and a cut but more importantly, the girls in the salon were awesome. I laughed the entire three hours I was there. That's right, three hours. It takes me a long ass time to become mildly attractive. I really loved the highlighting process without the bleach since there wasn't a smell that made my eyes swell up and turn red. It was definitely different especially with the consistency of the non-bleach highlight goo - the goo was more like yogurt than the regular stuff. After the appointment, I stared vainly into the mirror for hours. Given this, I am sure I have discovered my new beauty abode. Yay!

Let's Get Physical

After working out three times this week, I've decided that the Self fitness DVD's are good. I work up a sweat and am always sore the next day which is odd considering I'm in a living room in front of the tele. I also quite like the Pilates and Yoga DVD's by Crunch. They're not as bad as the regular Crunch DVD's as there's less clapping and giggling after the work out. I never jumped around giving hugs and kisses to my fellow participants at the end a step aerobics class so what makes the director think the performers in the Crunch DVD should do the opposite? Plus, I never feel any effects when doing the Crunch Ab Attack or whatever. So boo on them. With all of these DVD’s, I've decided that working out at home isn't bad and can have SOME results. My shoulders have seen the most improvement. While doing the weight exercises, my shoulders burn; I never thought that my shoulders would be out of shape but they are. Ridiculously so. It makes sense to keep them in shape – they’re the hanger of the body carrying the limbs and organs. I thought my hanger was made of wood but now I am realizing it’s a dinky hanger sort of like the kind they have at Kmart. You know the ones – they snap when you pull the clothes off the rack. I don’t want my clothes pooling up on the floor like a dirty blue light special. I want my clothes nicely displayed. Hmmm... did clothes just become a euphemism for boobies? I am not sure – I’ll let you interpret that one on your own.

Let It Snow... And Snow. And Snow. And Jesus, More Snow?

With all the snow here, I have to wonder if there’s a song comparable to “It’s Raining, It’s Pouring” for this kind of weather. I’ve decided to write one. It goes like this: it’s snowing it’s snowing, without Rebecca really knowing. Obviously, it’s a work in progress. Meanwhile, my one pair of thick heeled, closed toe shoes are taking a beating. They’re a glorious pair of Born ankle boots with an adorable button at the top. The caramel brown is to die for but alas, the snow is making them a poop brown in parts while the salt is bleaching the heels. If anymore damage is done, I may have to part with them. Now that, my friends, is a tragedy. Could life as a suburban house girlfriend be any harder? I think not. After all, bleached heels are the ultimate sign of suffering. Take that Africa.

A Brief Pause

What is it about the weekend that prevents any form of working out? This past Sunday I spent most of my time walking around Philly with my fabulously hip friend but besides that, I last worked out on Thursday. The cat had an emergency visit to the kitty hospital Friday night, which meant a follow up Saturday morning. After the stress, we of course had to treat ourselves to bacon, coffee, and eggs. The breakfast of marathon champions. On Mondays, I always feel like I've been hit like a bus which means I go to bed early after guzzling down whatever meat products I've prepared on the Foreman Grill. Tuesday is my day to get back into my routine, however, we had an Xbox mishap this morning. The many remotes confused me preventing the streaming video from Netflix to reach our big screen. With all this technology, you would think I could get a machine to work out for me. Alas, since it's not reliable, I take comfort in the fact that Terminator will never happen. But if it did, would I be able to run from the machines? Running in a marathon is, at the very least, preparation for the potential apocalypse. That's motivation for me to start training again this evening.

WHAT!?!?!

What in the hell does the V STEP HAVE TO DO WITH ABS!!! Tell me! Kat and the Cruch Crew - you are so ON MY LIST! You and your freaking V STEP!!! ARGGGGHHH!

Working Through the Pain

The fitness videos seem to be doing their job as I am remarkably sore. Not sore like, "Wow, I really worked my muscles," but sore like, "Wow, I can't walk." And I am not sore in the places I think I should be sore. Take, for example, the bicep curls. One would think that the bicep curls would result in my biceps being sore. Nope. My armpits are though. And my leg joints as well as the balls of my feet. But hey! It's a good burn!

I am up early to try another video. This time I am going for "Ab Attack." It has a false promise that I am totally falling for.

You Have GOT to be Kidding Me

I may have to re-think this fitness video plan. Firstly, even though all the blinds were down, I felt like the neighbors could see my turkey drumstick legs and chicken wing arms flailing all over the place. Secondly, the videos made me feel like I never completed YEARS of gymnastics, or YEARS of yoga, or even YEARS of step aerobics. That's right, step aerobics. My coordination was way off on simple things like the bunny hop and even more off on difficult items like the v-step. The v-step was a step out with arms going up like a v but for Rebecca, that translated to the physical equivalent of quantum electro dynamics. If physics were in action form, it would be fitness DVD’s. When the leader called out, “Make sure to have control over those abdominal muscles,” I couldn’t help but to think to myself that my abdominal muscles went out for a pack of cigarettes four years back and never returned. The abdominal muscles were replaced by a cookie dough receptacle, which is not as attractive but has had severe staying power. And what is this control thing I keep hearing? If I had control over any form of my life, and that includes my floundering limbs and muscles, I wouldn’t be on this little mission to run a marathon. Duh Kami, you oh so attractive fitness leader, how could you not know that? I think you should take your control, your little tiny shorts, your toned arms, and shove it.

Who am I kidding? Tami, I’ll see you tomorrow for exercise number two.

The Wo-man with the Plan

Given that the winter is frigidly cold and has been preventing me from proper training, I've decided to take action. Indoor action. I've added about ten fitness DVD's to my Netflix queue focusing on those that play instantly. One is even a two-volume set for New York City Ballet exercises. I am sure that these workout DVD’s will help fulfill my childhood desire to be a ballerina (if only they had fitness DVD's on how to be a gymnast and astronaut). With a plan like this, how can I not be in tip-top shape for the October marathon?

Show Business

I really like my job. Why, you ask - because I work with the mother of Michaela Conlin, Angela from Bones. That's right, I am this close (picture my pointer and thumb an inch apart) to Angel. In addition, Denise, Michaela's mama, was nice enough to bring in a Bones picture for me. How cool is that? Right up there with Bill Nye the Science Guy and the twist. When I first learned this information, I was so excited and said, "Denise, this is fantastic, may I shake your hand?" She seemed more honored than I did. And believe me, I was honored that she didn't think I was crazy.

Things That Make You Go Ew

Since the snowfall and the return of the cat, they're all I can talk about. I know it seems crazy but I'm a little obsessed right now and hey, obsession happens. Today I came home super late from work because, get this, it was snowing and low and behold, the cat had thrown up all over my guy's favorite chair. The five hundred dollar "dot" chair that he purchased when we moved here. That's right, I said my boyfriend has a polka dot chair and he gladly paid five hundred big ones for it. So I frantically hung up on my mom and tried to clean up the yucky, yucky, oh so yucky yellow goo that somehow was in three sections all over the chair and floor. Just as I cleaned a spot, I found another. And then another. And then (oh god, don't let me say it) I saw something that looked like string in the last pile of vomit. I got a little closer and no, it wasn't string, it was spaghetti. Wait, we don't have any spaghetti in the house. That's when I realized... I was holding a worm between my fingers that the cat had thrown up. EWWWWW! I put it in a little plastic baggy and called the vet who told me to come down with the cat, the spaghetti worm, and a sample of her stool. Yummy. So I did and to be honest, it was a quick fix - a couple minutes in the vet hospital for a weigh in (she's eight pounds, thanks very much) and two syringes of worm killer. When I got home, I sprayed the entire house with Lysol and washed my hands until they turned red. Then I sprayed them with Lysol for good measure. Needless to say, I didn't make it to the gym today. Tomorrow, if it's not snowing, I'll start my training.

What Goes Up Must Come Down

I have yet to start running but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it. I am a "stick a toe in first" type of girl. I have been doing yoga which, in my opinion, totally counts as training. I am ready to run as the winter blubber I've put on to stay warm is starting to bother me. I spend most of my mornings in front of the mirror lifting my arms over my head and then bringing them down again. When the arms go up, I think "boobs were up here" and when the arms go down, "now boobs are down here." Then I turn around and watch my butt do the same thing. All in all, I think it's good for my ego.

In other news, I am really starting to like my internship. I know, this will totally get in the way of my self-loathing. The other day, however, I told the Editorial Assistant (whom I will from here on refer to as EA) that my boyfriend turned thirty and all I've been eating is birthday cake. She looked at me like I was speaking Spanish and I am pretty sure it was for two reasons: she's 22 and knows no one who's thirty, and she's stick thin and has never heard of "cake." Well my dear, this piece of cake is for you. Mmmm... delicious.

Homeward Bound

Right, so the training has yet to commence as my cat has been taking up my time (yeah, that's it). After six and a half weeks of being lost in the wilderness, Gabby came home last night. Man, am I glad - looking for her was such a pain in the ass. It's snowing out and the weather is so cold, it causes physical pain when the flakes hit the face. Calling for a cat for about an hour every night in weather like this blows. And so she is here; the prodigal daughter returned. Blessed is thou.

In other news, I started a new job which, on the first day, sucked, but now is delightful. The first day, I was called "intern" rather than by my name. Yeah, that's right, I am an intern with a masters and a full résumé (even without my lies about Habitat for Humanity). What can I say, I didn't vote for Bush. I digress - so I was called intern all day rather than "hot stuff," which is my legal name, causing me to sink into a deep depression that only McDonalds and a pack of cigarettes could fix. After finishing my unpaid shift, I headed straight to my source of gluttony - the corner store. Mmmm M&M McFlurrys. I'll wash you down with a side of Parliament lights. Now that's nice... Wait, why am I writing this blog again? I think it was something to do with fitness.

Anyway, the cat is home and the “job” is on track so it’s go time. Nine months until the marathon.

Good Golly, Let's Get Jolly

I think I may have overdone it on New Year's - it took me about a day and a half to feel "right" again AND I smoked myself some Parliaments even though I've had a long battle of giving them up. Yet, I still am determined to run this marathon in October and have even invited a few friends to greet me at the finish line with a sandwich as I am sure I will be hungry. Maybe I should just do a 10k. . . then I could be a smoker again (oh how I've missed it).