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.