my torrid love affair

I sit here basking in the afterglow of my lover. I had to write while this feeling is fresh in my mind.

The solitary run, on a day cold enough to keep most people home, was today euphoric. If I could orgasm during a run today would have been it.

It's been so long since I felt the way I did today. So strong and powerful, so healthy, so incredibly alive. Like I could do anything. And so grateful that today, even the leafless trees were beautiful.

One day I'll be strong enough to leave my other lover. While he makes me question my self-worth you enhance mine. Instead of having to beg for a phone call or an invite out, you call me, begging me to join you on the soft gravel path. One day very soon I will be strong enough to leave him, but you, dear lover, you aren't going anywhere.

As Lawrence Welk might say, Until we meet again...

So ya, I’ve been meaning to write this for awhile but i’ll start, then stop, then start, then whatever.

I’m signing off for the year from this blog. I’ve decided I’m done training for anything for 2006. There’s a team of us doing the Chicago Olympic Triathlon so as I begin early next year training for that, I’ll be back.

Since I decided my race schedule was done this year –– and 2006 consisted of a whole sprint triathlon. Whoppee – my workouts became less intense. Oh I still run at least 3 times a week, but instead of an 8 or 10 miler, it’s closer to 3 or 5. Mysteriously, I have consumed the same amount of calories as when I’m in hardcore mode.

With that in mind, my off-season goals:
1. Not enter 2007 having to lose 15 or 20 pounds.
2. Figure out what is going on in my love life. Since for the last year I have unsuccessfully tried various ways of making the puzzle fit, this might prove difficult.
3. Get my finances in some kind of shape. Part of my decision to not do any immediate races is because of the costs involved with registering, travel, etc.
4. Get a new pair of running shoes. I’m actually in the same pair I used in the 2005 Vegas marathon. What a mess.
5. Work on incorporating core workouts as part of my training.
6. Get involved in community service.
7. Begin work on my novel.
8. Climb the tallest tree.
9. Have I mentioned I’d like to get my love life in order?

And finally, in what might prove the most difficult among the ten...
10. Get the new Elmo doll for my mom (yes you read this right. My MOM wants it) in time for Christmas. Wish me luck.

I’ll let you know next year how successful I was in accomplishing these 10 things. Until then, happy running, swimming and biking. Peace.

The New Training Food: Dominican Food

There’s nothing like darkness in the woods to make you have a PR training run.

I had an 8-miler scheduled today but was loathe to do it all in the gym. So I hustled off to the parkway to do the 3-mile loop outside before having to retreat to gym for final five. Things were good till the last hill. It’s shrouded in trees, so dark I could barely see the path. The squealing and shrieking of the nighttime creatures, bugs and bats – one brushed up alongside me. eww! – made me charge up the hill with an intensity usually reserved for only the shortest of races.

I’ve found the secret to the best pre-training food for long runs: Dominican food. No really, I had Dominican for lunch and during the run I felt so strong. Like I could run forever.

I’m doing a story on the growing number of Dominicans in the area, so I had plans to speak to the Dominican owner of a Dominican restaurant. I invited along a colleague.

This colleague reviews a restaurant a week and since he’s never had Dominican food, asked the girls working the counter to give us a little taste of, well, pretty much everything.

Goat? Sure. Chicken stew? Yep. Bananas? Please. Mashed bananas? Sounds good. Fried plantains? Umm-hmm. Rice, yellow or white? Yellow, thanks. Beans? A staple.

“Oh, and one of those,” he says, pointing to an empanada looking thing that is filled with beef, we’re told.

We chat. The first two plates come out. They are really big. I mean, big enough that those two dishes could be our lunch.

The waitress returns with the second round. Hmm, our table is getting a little crowded. A plate of two bananas (bananas verdes) and an unnecessarily large serving of mashed bananas is placed in front of us.

The third, and we think, final trip brings us the empanada-looking thing and a side of beans. “Your plantains are coming up,” she tells us.

When all is said and done, our entire table for two is covered with plates and sides. We barely have room for our serving plates.

When the time comes to pack up to go, our two large to-go boxes are completely full – and quite heavy.

But man what a good run. And for post-run nourishment, the goat and rice and bananas were most tasty.

The best of...fizzles out

It’s tough being a popular blogger. I mentioned that I get an email at least once a week asking me to update my blog. This week has been no exception. Like I don’t have a hundred things to do without answering fan mail. But I aim to please.

A few days ago I started going through my blog archives for the best of PartyRunner and was bored to tears. Man my blog is boring. Particularly boring were my Vegas posts. Did I have nothing to write about except missing workouts and eating too much? Can we say, broken record?

So in the end, I couldn’t see myself spending hours compiling a best of when in the end it’d be about skipped workouts, man problems and drinking too many beers. Cause that’s my life and it ain’t always pretty.

But while I’m writing, bloggers Brit and Scott arrive next week to Ocean City, N.J. I can hardly wait. We’re gonna run and maybe drink a little.

And that my friends, is what’s up.

Happy Birthday PartyRunner!

A year ago today I decided to run the Las Vegas Marathon. And a year ago today, I launched the partyrunner blogspot.

This was my first post:

Thursday, August 04, 2005

the little green dress
a slinky turqouise dress.it's the one i'll wear after i, si dios es servido, complete the dec. 4 las vegas marathon. too little for standard cocktail parties or black tie but perfect for the town with the brilliant marketing campaign. it's a bit tight, a byproduct of too much cheese, too many beers, too little running as i recovered from injury from may marathon, my first. join me on my journey to vegas with an ambitious goal of qualifying for boston, and properly rocking the dress.the shots begin: 10 a.m. Dec. 4.

No, I didn't qualify for Boston. But I broke 4...barely. And no, there were no shots as I can't drink after a race since I'm usually nauseous. And the green dress hangs in my closet, unused because that stubborn belly fat refuses to lie down and give it up already.

But it's been a wild year. I'm going to take a walk down memory lane, highlighting posts and moments especially meaningful to me.

Like a tribute. Only I'm doing it for myself which is rather embarassing. It's like when Bette Midler says in "Beaches." -- "Ok enough about me, what do you think about me?"

Look for the best of PartyRunner. Coming soon.

My couples.

I’m now part of a couple. Actually, couples. Oh it’s not exactly a couple since there’s three of us and two are married and I’m not one of them but it’s nearly the same.

I’ve spent several nights recently with Kim and hubbie and Martina and hubbie. Kim’s hub has treated us to gourmet spreads and unique mixed beverages that include things like fresh squeezed orange. Martina’s hubbie has offered to cook dinner after our recent workouts. So I told Martina’s husband last night as we ate steak, yams and mixed greens – who needs a relationship when I can just join others?

So Saturday morning I set out with Kim and hubbie for 25-mile “fun” bike ride, a River to River Heritage Ride to benefit the Heritage Corridor in the suburbs of Philly. The morning started out rocky, with them arriving late to meet me. Neither of us had printed out directions to the start, which was a small farmers market. Kim’s hubbie knew of one but we weren’t sure if it was the right one. Off we went.

The mile plus to get there was all downhill. Great. Only it was the wrong one, we were told when we arrived. We were sent (yup, you guessed it) the way we came, now all uphill. We finally found the start.

We debated briefly whether to do the race, since basically they just gave you a map and off you went on your own. We’re like, we’re about to pay over 100 bucks for a sheet of paper. But we went.

We filled out the application for the race, which includes a size category for a T-shirt. But when we went to pay we were told T-Shirts were only for pre-registered racers. This didn’t go over well with hubbie, who mutters “Fucking expensive bike ride.” I began laughing hysterically.

Off we went, me clutching my paper directions tightly fearing we’d be one of those “few who get lost.”

A half mile later we’re forced to turn right or left and neither street is listed on our directions. We stop, look around. Hubbie mutters this is going to be a long day.

We’ve missed the first turn. I can’t stop laughing.

Three hours later we’ve speedily completed the 25 miles, just in the nick of time for the included lunch. Kim irately declares there is neither DIET ice tea nor TURKEY sandwiches left. Hubbie says he’s never doing another race again.

I look at my couple with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. But more, I look at my couple with fondness and warmth. They are, after all, my couple.

not exactly home & garden...

Here’s how the photo shoot breaks down.

At 10 a.m. photog promptly arrives. I help him lug heavy suitcases of lights, pots and pans, cameras and a big tub of spaghetti upstairs. Temperatures are already in the 80s and it’s humid. This isn’t what I signed up for, I think. I am the star. Well, at least my apartment is.

10:30 a.m. The reporter arrives. More lugging up heavy pots & pans and old garbage like used frozen food containers.

11 a.m. Time to set up the messy sink to re-create what a kitchen could look like in your first apartment. Pots and pans, plates, cups, coffee maker, phone, my labtop, old spaghetti and beer cans are artfully arranged. They decline my offer to include my Jose Cuervo bottle. They do take me up on my offer to use a container of shrimp and steak with rices and veggies. It’s OK, I assure them, the food’s a week old.

11:30 a.m. Reporter is called on to help hold light reflector for photog. Thank heavens she’s here. It looks rather uncomfortable as she’s holding it at an awkward angle. I sip my coffee and read the newspaper. Yes, I’m a famous photographer’s subject, I think haughtily. At least, my apartment is.

11:45 a.m. I’m getting bored. How long does it take to photograph a sink full of dishes anyway? I pick at my nails. Reporter is still holding light reflector at awkward angle.

11:55 a.m. Briefly, I contemplate asking if they need help but I’m getting sleepy. I curl up on the couch instead. I nod off.

12:15 p.m. Photog needs a stepping stool. I dont have one. I give him an old plastic chair instead. It nearly buckles under him because one leg is near broken. It’s OK, he says, he’ll try something else.

12:30 p.m. I’m tired. Now I must know how it feels to be a top model. Nothing but waiting.

12:45 p.m. They're done. Time to clean up. I grudgingly pull myself up to help. Coincidentally, photog’s phone rings. He begins long conversation. Reporter and I begin the clean up.

1 p.m. Photog still on phone. Reporter appears scared of old spaghetti and as she semi scrubs appears to be spreading tomato sauce rather than wiping it up. I assure her I can do it later.

1:15 p.m. The kitchen is nearly spotless no thanks to photog who is still on the phone. We lug down reporter’s stuff.

1:18 p.m. "Ooops," says reporter, "my meter’s almost out." With a wave she’s off.

1:20 p.m. We lug down the photog’s heavy equipment. It’s now in the 90s. I sweat profusely. How come photog didn’t bring handlers?

1:30 p.m. Photog shakes my hand and is off. I get ready to leave to work. This photog business is hard.

Look for Runner in Transition’s kitchen o’ dirty dishes, in the Aug. 18 edition of The Morning Call. If I can’t post the photo, I’ll post the link!

The busy life of a photographer's subject

I spent much of the last two days cleaning and getting my apartment all spiffy for the photo shoot Friday about your first apartment and the accompanying slops. It’s gorgeous now and really would be more appropriate for a shoot on being single, young, trendy and living in the city.
On a very tight budget.
In tight quarters.

I’m surprising the photog by thinking of fun and clever props to include in the spread. Like putting my nearly empty bottle of Jose Cuervo next to the sink that will be full of dirty dishes. And the ashtry I got in Mexico that says “Zacatecas” as a shout-out to my Grandma’s home state. I bet he will be impressed and admire my creative thought process.

The cool thing about the shoot is I get to miss the entire morning of work, editor approved.

So I took off my shirt during yesterday’s run for the first ever and was just in my sports bra. What a freeing feeling! So that’s how men, free to go shirtless at their any whim, must feel. Feeling the warm sunshine on my bare skin was such a treat. I highly recommend it. I may never wear a shirt again.

Single and Fabulous! or....Single and Fabulous?

I have just received the most exciting news my apartment is going to be the site of a photo shoot Friday morning. I feel like Charlotte in “Sex and the City” when “Home & Garden” magazine comes into film her expensive New York apartment. She’s got beautiful white roses on the table, her wedding china is spread out, and she looks stunning, as usual, in a lovely feminine dress. This spread’s kind of going to be like that.

Only it's Allentown, not New York. Also I rarely dress up for work Friday as I'm beat from the week and maybe out of clothes. And the main feature will be my kitchen sink. And it’s going to be filled with dirty dishes, pots & pans, glasses and mugs. The theme? Your first apartment. Apparently the article will focus on living away from parents for the first time.

I most certainly hope the article does not attempt to cliche all first time awayers as slobs! Why, if you were to look in my sink right now there would be a cognac glass and four wine glasses and that’s it. Wait, maybe a frying pan too, from the quesadilla I had on Saturday. Still.

Strangely, despite using my place for this seemingly non flattering portrayal of singe life I’m quite excited. A photo shoot in my house!

Better go get the roses.

My race day love affair

note: this post has been edited b/c swim distance was updated on linmark site (which i've been scanning obsessively several times a day). i actually swam the fastest leg of my mini career. oopa!

I had a new experience on Sunday. It's called "Just having fun and enjoying the experience." Lemme explain.

I'm ultra competitive. I have high expectations of myself professionally, personally, socially. Training is no different. Last year a bad race sent me into a half-day long headspin of depression. By afternoon when the two stiff bloody Marys had worn off I swore I'd never let a bad race get to me like that again.

My last two races were canceled under bad circumstances that had left a bad taste in my throat. It sucks canceling races. It sucks canceling races cause the guy you were going to do them with and you dont end up working out and you guys turn unnecessarily dark in the final days.

This race I knew was going to be different. I felt "back," as it were.

So here's the deal. This was my third sprint tri. The lack of training showed. I had the worst times of my career:

800-yd swim: 15 min (33:20/mile pace) 104/355
T1: 2:29
***12-mile bike: 58.03 (12.4/hr pace) 319/355
T2: .40
5K: 27.03 (8:44 pace) 105/355
Total: 1:43:13.

But I loved every second of waking up early, drinking my pre-race coffee, eating my bagel and banana, driving and listening to my normal hip hop top 40 stations, waiting for Kim, seeing Kim, getting the transition area set up, chatting with girls in my swim heat about the course, feeling the warm but not too warm water of beautiful Lake Nockamixon.

I loved the feeling of running into the transition area, I loved looking to the left and right of the bike course and seeing the beautiful lake and green lush trees all over the scenic course and I loved that the running trail was equally as gorgeous.

I loved the men. Seriously, I've never seen such hot, fit men in any race I've ever done.

I loved that Bill, Kim's husband who can't stand me cause he thinks i'm a bad influence (not like kimmie needs any help. haha), was waving and shouting and pointing to the direction I needed to take my bike after the swim because race days does that to people.

I look at my times and I'll be honest -- the rush I had immediately after I finished dissipated a bit when I saw them.

But it's Monday, the day after the race, and I'm weirdly thrilled with myself for doing this race. It's almost like I feel I'm coming out of a fog and this dark cloud that's been a part of my life for months, even if most of the time it's subtle, is lifting. I felt so alive on Sunday. I felt so alive and vibrant.

So this is why we do it.

ps. my love affair of sunday does not extend to the mofo bike. if i had seen one more person pass me...

KIM PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!

So I'm in a new division this year. It's the 30-34 age group. The good thing about this is, no more dumb pink caps or like this Sunday, purple. Nah, we oldies generally get cooler colors. This race I'm Navy.

I'm a bit nervous going into an older age group because everyone knows women get more ferocious with age. They take their training harder and come in ripped. No more half-assed training of the 20s groups. Last year when I placed FIRST in my age division for the 5k in the 25-29 (ahem), i would have actually placed third or fourth in the 30-34. Lucky I was born a year late.

Kimmie is upset by the change of plans Sunday so I am taking this opportunity to PUBLICLY PLEAD for her FORGIVENESS. You know my life here in little PA would be in SHAMBLES if you weren't in it. Well, that's not entirely true. It's in shambles but I wouldn't have as much fun watching my life swirl into shambles if you weren't in it. You're my partner in crime, my martini friend, my growing-old-with-spunk friend, my corona-drinking friend, my urban sunbathing friend, my running friend.

Please forgive and try to accept your friend's many flaws, which includes jumping at the offer to go to AC because she's an obsessive gambler, drinker and price-is-right contestant. Try to forgive her because she adores you and tries to be a good person.

I am BEGGING you to still go the race on Sunday. Otherwise I will be all alone and I will try to make small talk with the other people who maybe went alone or dont' mind being my friend for the morning. But you know that wouldn't be the same.

She swims, she bikes, she runs, she GAMBLES, she SUNBATHES!

I have been worried about doing a tri the morning after my friend's wedding. It troubles me that I have to leave the festitivies by 11 p.m. at the latest to get at least five hours of sleep, my goal.

But sissie reminded me I did a marathon while staying in Vegas. It wasn't an ordinary Vegas night either (they never are). It was a fight night and if you want to see fine dressed brothers this is your spot. Nonetheless, I was in my hotel room just minutes after 11 p.m. Of course I couldn't sleep for a good couple of hours since i was worried about my mother and grandmother who decided to party the night away but through that I learned to set curfews and get my own room the night before a race.

So really, a baby tri should be no problem coming off a weddding. Sissie's comment has boosted my confidence.

So has an unexpected treat -- straight from the race i am going to ATLANTIC CITY!!!!! It's not Vegas but this time of the year, maybe it's better because it's on the BEACH. I'm packing a thermos of bloody marys for after the race then a pal and I are headed off to gamble and sunbathe. I CAN'T WAIT.

You want to motivate this girl to get through swimming, biking and running? Offer her a PRACTICALLY FREE trip to ATLANTIC CITY!

PR HERE I COME!

by (un)popular demand

I continue to be humbled by my steady stream of visitors. Why, each week I get at least one e-mail asking when i'll post again. So here I go.

Sissie is now a Chicago-ite. She's left behind the small suburbs of San Diego for the glitz and glamour of Chitown. I'm right behind her. After all, my buddy called me excitedly Friday night to tell me he'd gotten two new team members for "Chicago Tri 2007." Cool, i exclaimed, then returned to my beer. Who calls to tell about new training partners at like 10 p.m. on a summer Friday night?

I threw my first bachelor party Saturday night and if I may, what a smashing success. We went to a strip club where the girls were v. cute. Then we went back to my pal's house where the guys nearly had me convincned to give a private show. Nearly. Fun was had by all.

Sunday is steelhead. After such a promising start, my training really struggled in the past two weeks. That's my life lately. A few promising days, then I slip back into bad habits.

My friend's wedding is the evening before and it will be all the fun people from the bachelor party. They were already talking about going out after the wedding, which ends at 10 or 11. But not me. No, not me. i'm going straight home to sleep.

Cause Kim will be waiting for me bright and early Sunday. Coach Kim has promised to cheer me on. Then, she has promised me a Bloody Mary.

It's the little things, really, that keep a girl going...

Must reads

Kim may not be the most consistent training partner as of late, but she’s always got running on the brain. It’s like she’s a runner, only without really running.

So she’s at a second-hand book sale to benefit United Way last week and finds a book. There’s two copies. She picks up one for me and her. It’s called, “Sole Sisters: Stories of Women and Running.”

It’s a collection of stories compiled by two journalists all about running and women (as the title suggests). It’s like Chicken Soup for the Soul, only all about running.

I love it. Couldn’t stop choking up with every chapter.

I’m training for a triathlon right now and while I think it’s good to be well rounded and all, most days I have to force myself not to run so I’m not pathetic in the swim and bike portions of the race. As much as I like cross training I just have to admit I’m a runner at heart. Only when I run do I feel so at peace and like the world is mine.

I think all you gals out there should pick up a copy. It’ll just reinforce the feelings of why you’re a runner, what you love about running, and what a special thing it is.

The beautiful flower

It's Friday, my reflection day. Usually it involves contemplating my life and relationships. Today is no exception.

Sissie is moving in just over a week. She's never lived farther than half an hour from my parents in northern San Diego County. Her entire life she's dreamed of moving. Boston, New York, Washington, D.C. A part of her always felt she'd never make it. Too close to my parents (and caretaker of the family), maybe too scared, and to do what? She'd be the married woman with kids upset, regretful, perhaps filled with a longing that would never be fulfilled.

When she applied for this job in Chicago, I wonder if she ever thought she'd get it. Career moves like that didn't happen to her. They happened to her sister, her friends. But now it's happening.

On July 3 sissie flies from Los Angeles to Chicago to begin a new time in her life. I doubt she's as nervous as me. I know she'll do great, that's not it. But she's so young! How can you be ready for the great big world at 27!!!!???

Her friend, who has been her friend since they were misfit junior high kids, wrote her a letter. It was on the first card she picked up. Fate. The quote on the front of the card could not have been more fitting.

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

So go on then little sissie. Blossom.

the po racer

The Kahuna wasn't kidding. A while back he blogged about how expensive races were becoming.
I just paid $100.11 for a SPRINT triathlon. The registration ($70), the "late" fee ($10 -- like three weeks before a race should be considered late), the one-day USAT membership ($9), my extremely generous contribution to the cancer/lympho society ($5 - hey, i'm a journalist) and the Lin-Mark processing ($6.11). At this rate Im going to be priced out of racing pretty soon. Geez.
My first tri, in May 2004, I paid like $60 total. That's practically a 100% increase. And I can guarantee you my salary aint jumped that much.

The good news is, I'm officialy registered!

By the way, I just learned Ocean City, N.J., likely site of the August bloggers gathering is a DRY city. Who in the hell ever heard of a DRY shore town? Bizarre.

PS scott: the race is (.5 mi Swim, 12 mi Bike, and 3.1 mi Run)

Sometimes you feel like a nut

I'm in a professional rut right now. I'm depressed and down and feel like an underachiever. I wonder if my parents are wondering why I'm such a loser. Or worse yet they're thinking their brilliant daughter is out doing great things and she isn't. In fact she isn't even close. But since i'm SO OVER this blog being a place for me to CRY AND WHINE LIKE A BABY, I'm off to fake being in a good mood. And While i'm faking being in a good mood, the news is actually quite good. So...

SCOTT AND BRIT ARE COMING TO VISIT IN AUGUST! It'll be like a Vegas reunion, only so, so, so much better cause instaed of having to run 26.2 miles and go to bed early (boring) and not party on a saturday night (yaaaawn) we'll hopefully be in the warm sun of the Jersey shore with their two little darling baby boys playing and then later running with Shore Turtle and whoever else wants to join us (talking to Keith, Natalia and Jeff here...)

The other news is sissie is just two weeks away from moving to Chicago. Do you know what this means? My pals and I decided Friday -- Chicago Triathlon 2007. It's so on. My friend just did her first tri on Sunday. I mentioned the tri bloggers and had she heard of them? (no she hadn't but she will love you guys). Then she said she'd always wanted to do the Chicago Tri. I said sissie was moving there. My friend said his sis was too and viola! It's on!

As for my July 16 triathlon, my first race of any kind this season (Oh, i'm so embarassed to write that), I've lost both my training partners. One fell off the face of the planet (kim), the other went and got pregnant (partypooper). So it's just me, myself and I. I've got roughly 17 hard workouts left, I calculated today. That's enough time to get myself into decent shape. Hard bike and swim yesterday, hard hilly run today. keep it up.

tripper...

When I was 19, I fell in love for the first time. His name was Collin. He was a San Francisco kid that moved to San Diego to be with his mom after high school. His teacher was the woman Michelle Pfeifer played in “Dangerous Minds.” I was so in love.

He was street (to this day, to quote Destiny’s Child, “You better be street if you looking at me/I need a soldier in here”). He also was intrigued with a checker at the grocery store where we all worked. I know that days after we broke up he was already with her. He was 19, she was 32. And they both made a big deal of making sure that I knew they were together. Goodness. I simply can’t imagine being like that, particularly to a little lovestruck 19-year-old (moi). Butthead. I didn’t like her for a long time.

Ive let go of any grudges long ago. And while this blog doesn’t seem like the most appropriate place to post this, this is what I’m thinking now. And since I don’t carry a normal journal, this is where it’ll go.

I do not understand how “events” get to me as they do. I mean, birthdays can come and go. Let’s grab a cocktail, I’m fine. But now I’m turning 30 and it’s like, whoa, hey, hi, member me?

It’s like Valentine’s Day, my first single one in 5 years. And I spent the entire day tripping about how I was alone and sad and how the guy I was seeing – the one that’s entirely wrong for me – wasn’t gonna be with me. In that way. So I made a nice call to him late at night about why couldn’t we be together and other nonsense. Sheesh.

Try as I might, Im still a girl. Can’t help it. I try. But I’m still a girl. Then when I showed up at his place late at night he had bought me my favorite perfume. And I was like way too delighted. Girl.

So Goodbye the yellow brick road...(and 20s!)

Sometimes, it’s nice to have writer friends. They’re able to communicate with words in such a way many others can’t. This is not to say they can communicate in person or anything, but still.

I’m five hours away from 30. but really, more like 11, I was born at like 530 a.m. PCT. Or was it 730. Gotta call mom.

Anyway, my friend, bookie as I’ve referred to him here for his love of horses (or rather, betting on horses), sent me an email for my bday. No time for gift, no time for card, he writes. But here’s 30 things I like about you. Here’s a few Ill share. My thoughts are in parantheses

8. You liked Qualcomm/the Murph better than you like Petco Park. (I’m from San Diego, born a true blue Padres Jack Murphy stadium girl! Petco what!)
11. Although you are justifiably proud of your heritage, you have never subjected me to any forced viewings of, or conversations about, Lucha Libre.
12. You like beer. Mmmm, beer.
15. You ran a marathon. (ahem)
17. You're close to your family.
19. You cash more horse bets than I do.
21. You're sexy. Decorum prevents expanding on this one. (Ahem!!)
23. You've got a great laugh.
24. You're difficult to define ---- there's so many aspects of who you are.
25. You've been a good mom to Reese. (my darling little boy, aka cabbage patch kid)
30. You're getting better, adding admirable qualities all the time. Which means I won't ever have problems completing this list no matter how long our friendship lasts.

Thanks Bookie. I have no doubt this’ll be the best gift I get.
I’m 30. what what!
Ps don’t say it you well meaning’ers. That’s fine if you think I don’t look a day over 25 but seriously, 30’s not old.

Kim's (almost) road to San Diego

I can hardly believe this is the weekend of the Rock n Roll Marathon in San Diego.

Loyal readers may recall months and months ago sissie and Kim decided they were going to participate. Kim would do so for Team n Training, sissie would join a local San Diego runners club. I’d eagerly cheer them on. Needless to say, neither of them are doing it.

Because I talk to both of them daily, I know a bit about how their training went.
Lets take a peek at Kim's journal to see what went wrong:

January 3: I have decided to complete my first marathon. I can’t wait! What a feat.

Jan. 15: The features editor asked me if I’d chronicle my first-time marathon adventure for the newspaper. Great! I’m gonna be a star. 26.2....and the whole world will know about it....

Feb. 2: Attend team-n-traning meeting. How neat. But well, I had to leave early. Meeting a friend for some Texas Hold em and some cocktails. Still. I. AM. AMPED.

March 7: I got this email from Partyrunner today (she can be such a nag) “Yo Kim, if you’re serious about doing this, you gotta buckle down. Ive told you this before, but Respect the Distance.” (in a mimicky voice) 'Respect the distance. Respect the distance.' She’s so boring. She’s read too many Runners World magazines and web sites.

April 5: I haven’t ran in a month. But I’m still optimistic I’ll be ready. I mean, San Diego? What a great vacation this’ll be!

April 23: Man my head is hurting! I’m not letting my friend Charlie ever let me do that $4 bucks for 6 beers and $10 in poker chips again.

April 24: OK, so I went out again. But I placed second in the poker game!

May 7: I’d write more but I’ve gone out every night so I've been kind of busy. I’m not sure about San Diego. It’s only four weeks away....

May 31: I run my first three miles in a month. I guess San Diego isn’t happening.

Today: I spend the day e-mailing Partyrunner with all the races we’re going to do this season. “Hey, Partyrunner, what about the Vegas marathon?” ........

But seriously, good luck to all the San Diego bloggers. May you be watched over as you run and most of all, have a fantastic time!!!

And what do we have over here. Why yes, I believe they're exceprts from sisie's training log...

tris and birthdays

My tri training plugs along, which frankly is MORE than I can say for my so-called “training partners” Martina and Kim. Martina skipped weights today (but she said she had a surprise in her life. I wonder what it is. I think she’s either moving, or pregnant!). And Kim was 45 minutes late to our scheduled racquetball.

Ladies…what to do with you? I know, Martina, you don’t even read this blog but Kim.
Kimberly.
A tri takes work.
Even a sprint.
End of lecture.

Training’s been mellow. Last week I ran, swam and cross trained. No bike but training for three disciplines is rather time consuming so one can imagine you can’t do all three in one week.

Oh and I’m so glad Keith and Scott INSTANTLY side with sissie in any dispute I have with her. I can’t help that she is a demanding coach who threatens to dump me even after a weak training run. Some might agree with this coaching philosophy. Maybe this is why she hasn’t been replaced.

My birthday is coming up. I’m gonna be entering a new decade. Can you imagine….
Newsweek wrote a story today, a 20-year lookback that in 1986 gave women who entered 30 a 2.5% (or close enough) chance of ever getting married. They’ve since revised their calculations, natch. I mean, only 30 and an old maid?

Sure, when sis and I were in Mexico a month ago my grandma pointed out we’d never be married because of our ages. But it’s a time of the world (or rather, a place in the world) when we don’t have to be married if we don’t wanna be and we don’t have to have kids if we don’t wanna (yet).

So when I feel like my life is rather silly, and I wonder if maybe im years behind, I’m just gonna have to shrug. As Bon Jovi might sing, It’s my life. Even though I like that song, Living on a Prayer much better.

The new pickup line

Sis took some offense to her portrayal on this blog. "You made me out to be a liar and an abusive coach," she writes me this morning.

As a journalist, I hear this kind of thing all the time. "Oh, you misquoted me," and "That's not me at all," and "You have the story ENTIRELY WRONG." Ok, well, I dont hear this thing all the time - id be worried if i did - but you get the drift.

I told her, "Sis, the thing is, the stories I recount are true. Maybe you should rethink your sistering skills."

Ah, ***little sis. Good thing I'm around to help guide her along.

Training began last Saturday for the July 16 tri. Martina, Kim and I are doing it.

Martina and I had planned a swim and 5-mile run last Saturday. She decided no swim and perhaps a 3 miler would be nicer. Then we promptly had a beer and went bowling.

I met Martina online. She moved from Ireland two years ago. She's a lovely girl, cute, and has beer flowing through the veins as only a true Irish lassie can.

We've decided our new pickup line is "We're training for a tri." Cause last week at the parkway she and I stopped to watch a couple of guys rock climbing. We talked, then mentioned we were trainng for a tri.

Well, now were they impressed! So ya, so my new pickup line. I have yet to use it because even though I went out dancing last night it was to a gay bar. Maybe this weekend.

Hit the pool for the first time in months a couple of days ago. It felt amazing. What was I waiting for???? I'm all excited to be back in the tri training mode. I think I blame Jeff, star runner boy who has decided he wants to do an Ironman as his first tri or something like that. He's always so goshdarn inspirational.

*** here's a shout out to little sissie who told me earlier she loves my blog but really she just loves it when she's the featured subject

Baby sis leaves the nest. Big sis wonders what to do.

Some of you may know I have a sister. I write about her a lot.

She joined me in the Vegas marathon (a mile and a half later than she was supposed to. That didnt make big sis so happy). Then, she took credit for running it while wearing her Vegas blogging shirt in Starbucks (Impressed man in coffee shop: "Oh, you ran the Vegas marathon? So did my friend! Wow, that's great, and you're already running??" Sis (head down so as to not meet man's eyes: "Uh, er, ya, it is great.").

She's also acted as my coach, using such encouragement as "If you dont finish in under 4 you can forget you have a coach" and "No one likes a slow runner!" and other uplifting things.

She ran her first half marathon last summer, wearing big sis' shoes since her 4-year-old pair got a hole three days before the race. For a week -- maybe even two -- she even began training for San Diego, her first marathon.

But enough about sis the runner. Sis is also a career woman. She's in the young stages of a career as a corporate events planner. So Monday came the news -- little chickie is headed off to great big world. The San Diego born, raised, never left is heading to Chicago.

Big sis is a bundle of nerves. That is, when I'm not thinking about how I can go to Chicago every month if I wants and look how much easier doing the Chicago marathon and the Chicago famous triathlon I saw on TV last year will be?

Even though she's moving closer to her Pennsylvanian sister, it feels like she's moving farther. And I feel strange. I also think maybe she is too young. 27 and moving to a big city like Chicago? I'm not sure that's such a good idea.

But like all grown women must do, I must let sissie spread her wings and fly. I must be strong. What on earth will I do if i have a child?

the (un) half marathon report

So this half marathon report comes a bit late but really, it's cause there is no half marathon race report to give.

It was a last-minute decision to bag the race (I got the word "bag" from my PA brothers and sisters). We were trained (mostly. BMI boy probably better than I), had a room, were ready to go. But like the bad soap opera that my life is, well, it just didnt happen. Neither did the five borough bike ride. Ah, my life...

I had planned to meet up with shoreturtle and his wife at the expo. Maybe when Brit comes to visit.

BMI boy sneakily found this blog. Ok, so it's not hard to do but I had told him i wasnt giving him the address since I write about him. So i've got to censor myself for now.

I've only got one race on the horizon, my first olympic tri on July 16. I'm getting excited. I'm getting back into the pool this weekend and hope to do a bike ride with Kim.

Life has been rather calm the last week (if you exclude cinco de mayo. And i'm excluding it on account of the fact it's the last one i'll ever celebrate. Apparently I have a need a prove how hardcore Mexican I am so the holiday's now off limits). My apartment is clean, uncluttered. My laundry is done, my fridge is full. Hmm..been watching the playoffs. Go Phoenix!

I've been getting so much sleep the last few days my body abruptly wakes up at 430 a.m or 630 a.m.

So let me get this straight -- work a 9-5, exercise, clean, watch a little TV, sleep -- that's what normal people do?

Blogolandia

I just read Jeff’s Boston race report.
Jeff was one of the first bloggers I ever read. He found me I think cause I was doing Vegas. He was there as support staff, the best EVER. He had like the best time and I loved reading the race report.

I forgot how much I loved reading people’s race reports (most of em anyway. Some are kinda boring) and just feeling like a part of a community. Blogging’s neat that way. If you haven’t checked it out, head over to Jeff’s site (link is on the right).

Four more days until the Jersey half. There was a time I’d never have McDonalds French fries four days before the race. And I really meant to just order the grilled Asian salad but the fries were FRESHLY POURED OUT. But did I get the small dollar size? No, had to get the medium.

I feel sluggish heading into race. I’m severely undertrained. I don’t have much doubt I’ll finish, but I mean, a year ago, I was like hardcore for my first half. When I think of doing the race this weekend, I think of BMI (body mass index boy I’m seeing). It’s his first big race. We agreed to run together even though at first I was like ‘but, I don’t DO races with other people. What if I want to go faster?’ I’ve since gotten over that. First of all, I ain’t running fast. Second, it’ll be fun and he said it would mean a lot to him if we ran together.

He’s so excited. He has this infectious energy where he views new things as if through the eyes of a child. It’s charming. I’m getting sissie a shirt at the race. What the heck, her bday was only a month ago. This shirt’ll complete her gift.

Speaking of, she keeps emailing that she wishes she was back in Mexico.
“I want a taco and a Modello,” she writes today.
“Um sis,” I point out,. “You don’t even like beer.”
“A vodka con pina, then” she responds.

That sissie. And if anyone remembers, no, she’s not doing San Diego. Maybe 2007.

hola, mis amigos que corren

6,500 feet, that´s the altitude where I´m at right now, in the state of Zacatecas, Mexico. I´m here for 10 days enjoying semana santa (holy week) with grandma, sis and mom. I have a whole new respect for the Colorado contingency. How in the hell do you guys run in this? The first day, unaware of the change (allentown is 400 feet), sis and I set off for an easy 30-minute run. We could barely breathe and our lungs burned. I was totally lightheaded.

The unpaved roads and hard cement are a killer on my legs, who whine from my calves, to my ankles to my knees. They long for the soft parkway. I assure them it wont be long.

Great training though, the half marathon in Jersey is 10 days away. The week after that, i´m doing the 45-mile bike ride through the five boroughs of New York. BMI boy and I are doing both together. He registered us this week.

BMI boy and I are dating, after weeks of back and forth. I don´t want a relationship; he´s not used to sharing girls he´s dating; I want to date other people, he says OK, for now; I call it off because I can´t offer an emotional commitment right now; he agrees then decides he can handle the situation. And so on and so forth.

I thought this trip would be a good time to sort through my feelings with BMI boy as well as the other boy, who I try over and over to get out of my mind. BMI has rather thrown me for a loop. I´m practically in love with guy I want out of my mind, but yet am developing feelings for BMI, who is sweet and possesses all the qualities I ever have pictured in a mate. It´s so strange. But I get nowhere. All my thoughts do are drift like tumbleweed, without direction, without destination and with no end. So as in PA, Ive no answers, come to no decisions. So as in PA, it´s back to one day at a time. That´s probably best

marathon 'training'

Preparations continue for the Long Branch Jersey shore half marathon April 30.

On Sunday, they included a planned 10-mile run that turned instead into drinking beers in the warm afternoon sunshine while sitting on the curb. My friend I'm doing the race with, BMI (body mass index boy), well, his ankles were hurting. I had had a bad Saturday night with the guy I insist on keeping in my life and spent Sunday morning crying. I decided I'd write off the day. It was the right move. The sunshine felt so incredibly beautiful on my face as we sillily sprawled out on the sidewalk in front of his house that I actually had a nightmare that evening about a snowstorm.

We made lasagna together for the Sopranos viewing party he hosts every Sunday. I love a man who's good in the kitchen. And since Id had a few beers he got nervous when i was chopping the sausage so he did it. That's nice of him. I'm glad I still have my fingers.

But no more skipped runs! I'm doing a run with a group tomorrow after work, then I've got a long run planned for Wednesday before work. Runs on Saturday and Thursday are also on the agenda.

I think we're making a weekend out of it, race weekend near the shore. Hope it's warm.

Nothing much else to report except that it is with sadness that my dear practically favorite running blogger has decided to call that blog quits, for now. Scott said after Vegas he had a feeling his running blog days were over. I feel i am losing a blogging friend. At least I know what's going on in his life. His baby is already a month old (my how time flies!), and he's the cutest thing ever; a total made-for-tv baby. Brit, keep the photos coming.

life. death.

What do you say when there are no words?

I stand there making small talk about running trails, half marathons, I say we should run sometime, and my heart is racing and my mind swirling. A tragedy strikes – not to me but a dear friend. I wait for him to come to me so we can walk. Meanwhile, I make small talk with a colleague.

I am reminded of a song: “But life goes on, and this whole world will keep on turning…” it’s from “For the Good Times,” one of my favorite songs, and one I listened to endlessly when I broke up with my first love.

Life goes on, runners talk running, coworkers wrap up stories. And in a corner of the world, the world is upside down. Devastation. But life goes on, and this whole world will keep on turning.

He says God brought me into his life, at this moment.

I saw an episode of Six Feet Under Wednesday night, the night before. A girl cries her aunt has died. She says no one has ever loved her except her aunt. She asks why people die. Nate, the main character who I just adore, says people die to remind you to cherish every day. To live each day like it will be your last. It sounds like your aunt, he says, did just that.

Getting shocked SUCKS ASS

Do you know why I can't wait for winter to get over?

It's not the weather. I can deal with the cold. I live alone, and my front closet can barely close from all my lovely winter coats, hats and scarves. Ive got the clothing which frankly is half the battle.

It's not the trees. I can deal with the nakes trees. I don't feel so blue when I see them. I know they will grow again.

It's not even that it gets dark too early for me to run after work outside.

But if i get shocked one more time, I'm gonna THROW SOMETHING REALLY FAR. I HATE getting shocked. If you know me, you know I HATE getting shocked. I will go to great extremes to avoid getting shocked.

Walking into gym, I will simply wait by the door for someone to open it so I don't get shocked on the handle. I have begun to get violently shocked when I push down the lock to my truck as I head out, so I grab whatever is near me -- a tissue box, my purse, my coffee mug -- to push it down for me. I tap the stupid metal door to my work bathroom quickly so the shock is minimized (what bathroom door shocks. MINE DOES). I close my truck door and other doors with my foot so as to avoid being shocked on that.

I've often thought people must think I'm strange when they see me do odd things like hesitate before touching something or waiting for a door to open. I started thinking about it. It's practically OCD (obsessesive compulsive disorder).

So bring on summer. Bring on air thick with humidity and moisture that makes you sweat before you take a single step outside. Bring it on because in this weather, you see, I don't get shocked.

Tis official

Dear Runner: Congratulations! You're officially registered for our Long Branch Half Marathon (LBH)-A Benefit for children's charities!

If you happen to be a New Jersey resident check-out the NJRRC's great Sunday morning group training runs at: NJ Half Marathon
All paces are welcome and you do not have to be a NJRRC member! Also, expect periodic updates as we get closer to the NJM/LBHWeekend.

Running regards, Art Castellano, Director-NJM President-NJRRC

The columnist (is in)

For those of you who may be long loyal readers of this blog, I occasionally write a running column. I’m here to answer all your running questions/concerns. Or if you just want a word of encouragement, I can do that too.
Here’s the latest:

Dear RC (running coach)
i remember reading on your blog once that you wear the brooks five running shoe. Is it in fact the brooks five adrenaline GTS? cause if so, it's the same shoe i wear and love, but cannot find in El Paso. And the brooks web site only offers the six, which you wrote gave you blisters.

please advise.

Jake

Dear Jake the Runner,
Brooks did make a fantastic running shoe at the onset of the 2005 season. What a fantastic shoe, the Brooks Adrenaline 5 GTS. Then, deciding being one of the top sellers in the entire history of the world wasn't enough, they opted to switch to the Brooks 6. The shoe then became stiff, with a thicker, more cushioned middle, thereby creating much discomfort to runners not needing a thicker, more cushioned middle.

There exist limited places you can purchase the 5s online. I hope you have a crazily small foot or large foot though, since many normal sizes are almost entirely gone. (I guess i'd have to say, I'd rather you have a crazily big foot though, Jake the Runner, now that I think about it).

Thanks for your question. You've got this columnist thinking about my next pair of shoes. If I can't find another pair of the 5s, I've got to start mentally preparing for the emotional, physical and psychological breakdown.

As always, thanks for the question, Jake. Happy running.
Signed,RC (running coach)

Allentown to Jersey, onward!

I got the greatest suggestions for how I should get into the Allentown half-marathon, which sold out a good TWO MONTHS before the race. Who registers a WHOLE TWO MONTHS BEFORE A RACE?

Anyway, I'm down for the lying, stealing, cheating, begging, running errands, baring my entire bare top (i am not modest). You know what, screw that, I'm even down for putting on a Southern accent. And you know how hot Mexicans with Southern accents are...(thanks Curly Sue!). I thought about bandit but is it wrong to want a medal? Oh, and have my name be called as I run into the stadium like they do?

The sad reality is I may be missing my practically favorite race. But, as is so often the case, when a door closes another opens. I think me and BMI (the boy who asked my body mass index the first night we met in a bar, a story I've shared multiple times but I just love it. Yes, Keith, beer involved) are doing this instead. NJ Marathon It's right on the water and we're going to make it a weekend I think. It'll be his first (half that is. he he) so he's all jazzed. And he has offered to get the room so I can't lose! I hope it's sunny. BMI is the sweetest boy like ever. He's coming on a little strong but see, he always tells me how beautiful and amazing I am and oh my is that my head swelling?

It's been a good week for training. Snowboarding Tuesday and a little run today. Im going to the mountains this weekend so I hope to get in at least a short run. But first tomorrow night I'm hosting a birthday get together. Then we're going to a drag club a block away. Ah yes, some days, I say, It's good to be single...

One last thing, i found this darling little blog. It's called Tan Lucy Pez, and it's run by this senior citizen from Pennsylvania. Here in this state, that's a little like saying that woman's a Mexican in Mexico. The state's chock full of them. Seniors, that is, not Mexicans. I've lived in many places, and I feel I can say with some authority people in this state are the quirkiest, craziest people I've ever met (listening, Kimberly?). Tan Pez is one of them. And she runs the most adorable site. I can't remember the last time I read it and didn't laugh. She does cool things like go see the groundhog see his shadow (of COURSE PA would host that!). Check it out.

births...of babies and of training

(Yawn...stretch...) And so I come out of a sleepy hibernation and return to my regularly scheduled blog. The last two weeks have been a blur of concerts (did I hear Air Supply?), shows (les Miserables, always beautiful), snowboarding (slowly getting better), bars (too many too list) and a few dates. But wait! First things first.

Brit HAD A BABY BOY!!!!!! You may know Brit from running stitch. I met Brit while training for the Vegas marathon, which her husband Scott was doing. Now they are my dear friends and I’ve been waiting eagerly as little Willie took his sweet time joining us. It was a safe, healthy 15-minute delivery. Congratulations, Brit and Scott! I look forward to seeing the little ones this summer.

Yesterday was Day 1 of my return to formal training. Me and this guy, who I’ll call BMI since he asked my body mass index the first night we went, took a hard charging eight miles. It felt great and it feels even better to be back to training. Then today Kim and a friend did a 3-miler. So excited and happy we were discussing the April 30 half marathon, and how stoked we were and how the training was ON.

Then I get back from run only to find out THE HALF MARATHON IS SOLD OUT. WHAT THE HELL. WHY DID I WAIT UNTIL MARCH TO REGISTER.

I am so so so so so so sad. I loved that race! Did it last year, was my first half marathon. The start is like 4 blocks from my house and it’s so well-organized and a perfect size and I CANNOT BELIEVE IT’S SOLD OUT. I don’t care, Runner’s World magazine headquarters is only miles from where I live. They’re organizing the event. Don’t think I’m not going to go over there IN PERSON and BEG AND PLEAD to get into the race. Wish me luck. I intend to turn on the charm like nobody's business.

and speaking of snowboarding

I much loved Olympics snowboarding. Shaun (hot) White won, as did that annoying girlie from Vermont. Does she need to act so poser? I mean, I understand you're cool and all, but please, close your legs during the Star Spangled Banner instead of being practically spread eagled. OK, i'm going off, I wasn't really that upset.

But anyone notice the clothes the boarders wore? This is from today's NYTIMES style, I laughed out loud. Writer nailed it: "Since when did Ronald McDonald become a sportswear designer?"

great gym trips

I just had the greatest gym trip. Ran into an acquaintenance headed to March 5 Jersey marathon. She was 15 miles into a 21-mile run. I hopped on the treadmill next to her to bring her in. She said I was a Godsend; in return I had one of the easiest 6-mile runs of my life. Sweet!

I told her about this bowling fundraiser I was going to be part of, it's for Big Sisters/Big Brothers. Turns out she's a Big Sister. This week I'm calling the director to see about being a big sis myself. A few years ago, I unsuccessfully tried being in a similar program. For a number of reasons (mostly, that I suck) it didn’t work out.

I think I’m ready now. My one New Years Resolution was to start giving back. I figured it’d happen later in the year, after I’ve gotten myself in an emotionally and psychologically better place. That ain’t happening anytime soon as far as I can tell. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be a good and strong Big Sis. My life has felt so self-centered lately. I don’t like that feeling.

Because it’s Sunday and maybe you’ve got a few minutes to spare, do yourself a favor and check out Keith's blog. His having too much time on his hands means bloggers like us get a literary treat. I’ve laughed so hard so many times at various blog entries, people’s comments, etc. But this one I almost had to walk out of my office to gather myself. You simply must check it out.

Keith, what's it like to have so much time on your hands?

Sis's training.

Sissie has been seriously debating whether to do the San Diego Rock n Roll Marathon, joining half the blogging community. To that end, she's been running a bit more lately. Let's take a sneak peak at her most recent journal entry, dated Friday AM:

"I hate how I go running last night and then I eat pizza at midnight after drinking 3 cosmos. That's great isn't it. I am partyrunner's sister."

olympics fun

i love shaun white. i love shaun white. he is so, so, so hot.

could not stop crying about michelle kwan. why must the olympics always make me so emotional.

i can't think of a good title

Brit, over at running stitch, is helping me make some minor changes to my blog, mostly to make it a bit easier to read. I am learning about color charts and stuff. All that technicalness got me tired, so I thought I’d post.

A foot of snow means Kim and I, usually hard core, bad-to-the-bone runners, missed this morning’s scheduled 10K in Reading. So instead she and her hubbie came over to a friend’s yesterday afternoon and joined a core of leftover drinkers continuing Friday night’s party. I simply love how productive my weekends have been lately. After I post, I’m going to wash my dishes from Monday’s dinner.

Met all three of the people who responded to my running/fitness call. Had mixed results. Snowboarded with one, Owen, Wednesday. He’s a ski instructor and just has tons of patience. It wasn’t very crowded so we got a ton of runs in. That also meant I was getting tired and falling more and more as they day went on. I was starting to get frustrated and a little cranky. That’s usually when my boy would say “Let’s rest a bit. You need some hot chocolate.” So he says “I’m getting tired. Let’s take off and get some lunch.” He was nice, defined. We have much in common. We’re going again Wednesday.

The other two…Martina, the irish girl, canceled our gym date because she was tired but happily accepted my offer to meet for beers (she’s Irish you know). I invited Derek, the other guy, to meet us too. Martina drank beer after beer. Naturally I love her. Derek wasn’t very nice. I don’t mind if we don’t hang out again. I’m not sure what it was about him. I just didn’t get a very good vibe from him.

Martina emailed Friday about how hung over she was, and we rescheduled Friday’s gym workout for Tuesday. Which is also…

Valentine’s Day! My boy and I used to not celebrate the day mostly cause we just fought our first two then decided the aggravation and expectations just weren’t worth it. It’s never been a big deal but this year, my friend is having a party for “girls without boyfriends.” Sundaes and wine! In honor of a vday a few years ago, when a group of single girls belted at the top of their lungs a song, I’m going to hunt up Wilson Phillips “Hold on.”

Fun in the snow

I must admit, at home, from my computer, my banner looks exceedingly more fabulous than it did when I was at work. Susan, you’re a doll.

Tomorrow I head off to the slopes! A. maria recently spent some time there. She looks adorable face down in the snow ;-)
But like I told her, her left turn looked pretty pro – I mean, I spent an ENTIRE season learning to left turn.

I’m going with Owen, a guy who responded to my post looking for running/fitness partners. He won a coupla passes to a local ski resort. So I’ll snowboard and he’ll telemark ski. Yes, I’d never heard of it either but it means you lift your heel, whereas in regular skiing your heel is planted.

He seems very nice.

He’s got a minivan… Does anyone else feel me on that statement?

Anyway, like I said, he seems nice. It was rather nerve-wracking tonight, actually, I called the three people who’d emailed responding to my post about hanging out. I left messages with Irish girl and other dude. Hopefully, they will call back. Even when I called the girl, it felt like I was calling a guy I met at the bar. Weird.

Ah, online, so personal yet so far away…

This Sunday, Kim and I head out to our very first 10K. We’re excited to be back on the circuit. Our first race since early December/mid November. It’s in good ol’ Reading, Pa. Never been, but I always sought that Monopoly card.

Introducing...

Hey folks, just a quick post to introduce my new banner. Runnersusan, a darling of the blogging community for her fondness of writing about bodily functions and porn (oh, and just being charming) has created this.

I can’t really read the text beneath the banner so i’m gonna have to change the color but otherwise...

i can’t believe i have a new banner! i love it.

Thanks Susan! i’ve changed, temporarily, the name of my blog to reflect my life right now. I believe i’m sort of at this strange transition in my life...recently single, trying to figure out who exactly I want to be and do. The last few months I’ve been really flighty, confused and I’ve made decisions that make no sense; some good, some bad most odd. My sis doesn’t know what’s going on with me.

Yet through it all, there is my beloved running and of course, beer.

Thanks again, Susan, you rock!

That’s the difference between me (girl) and you (boy)

After months of thinking about it, i finally decided to post on a local web site. I was looking for running/training partners, I posted, nonromantic, gals and guys. I got three responses. All sounded rather interesting.

But here’s the thing. The girl, who responded last, two days after the guys, wrote something a little like this "Oh, great, Im new to the area too! I’ve been wanting to do tris, I go to your gym, I’m lots of fun!" She’s Irish, and likes beer (which I also mentioned in my post). She runs, she drinks, she runs, she drinks, great. So I write back “Great, let’s hang out. I work X times, I like to run here, do you snowboard?” An email later, we’ve made plans. Tada!

But these two guys....Oh the emails back and forth and back and forth. What do you do, when do you work, what do you like to do, what do you want to do, the questions the questions. I mean, come on, I’m easy (i mean that in all ways. ha ha. just kidding). But seriously, I like to do just about anything that’s outside. I'm super flexible, have a flexible schedule, and I'm looking for some non complicated training partners who maybe want to occasionally grab a beer. I have kept the emails focused on the activities and plans on hand.

I’m to call them next week when I return from out of town. I wonder if first I must answer several more "screening" questions.

I ask my buddy, what gives? Why is it with the girl we’re like "Ok, let’s meet!" And with the guys, it’s all guarded and oh, yada yada...
His response: "um,
1.) we only have one thing on our minds? (beer, of course)
2.) when we see an ad from a girl we think they must want to hook up.
3.) when we see an ad from a girl we think she must be crazy.
4.) see No. 1"

How predictable. I am hoping in the very near future to report three fun times with my three new friends. Wish me luck.

Bar talk

It’s not every night you go to a bar and get asked your BMI, but here in Pennsylvania, I’ve come to accept such oddities as a way of life. When I offer a perplexed look to the one who asks, as normally as if he’s offering to buy me a drink, he tells me it’s body mass index, you know, how much fat is on your body. I know what it is, I tell him, I just don’t know mine.

The regulars were out Friday night, along with a couple new guys. One of the regulars is training for his first half marathon, so every week we exchange updates. The two new guys are huge fitness buffs, both avid, extreme skiers. I began chatting with one about running, how much I love it, how now it’s so much a part of me when it’s missing or I have skimped on it, I immediately notice all kinds of adverse effects. He so gets me. He used to feel that way when he was a lifter. I love meeting people who so get me that way.

So ya, BMI. When my friend tells them I’m a marathon runner they are impressed (ahem). They ask my PR, average pace. I eagerly answer. They are again impressed (AHEM!). Because I have noticed both of them eyeing me up and down (and I don’t mean in a, I’m-checking-you-out kinda way. I’m talking like how a coach would look at the body of their athlete, like, analyzing it). I tell them runners come in all shapes and sizes. One says, No, you’re slender. I mean, you have broad shoulders, a little bit on your belly but you look fit.

I am not sure why they are so instantly comfortable with me.

One guy, I think his name was Eric but I’m just not sure, gets like so, so, so excited and decides he wants to do his first half marathon too. Cool, I say. We agree to go running, he takes my number.

Saturday morning, I lose my cell phone, having lost it somewhere from my apartment to my truck. Damnit to all hell. With this in mind, I offer a Sunday helpful tip of the week: SAVE ALL YOUR CELL PHONE NUMBERS SOMEPLACE OTHER THAN YOUR PHONE. Or you may end up like me, with only two numbers memorized.

Hmmm, who should I call, my sister or my parents…

Betrayal

I have a person in my life who betrayed me. It was a hurt I hadn't felt since the first time I fell in love, a decade ago. And yet, I let him back into my life. Not just once. Once could be forgiven. Not even twice. Twice could be understandable. But last week, for the third time, I let him back in.

And today, on a quiet, sad Friday, my pain is all fresh, my wounds are raw open. Any progress I've made during our break has completely disappeared. Ive got to write it down this time so that everytime I even think to let him back in, I re-read this and try to remember how I feel. How I am sitting at my desk with an intense pain, a stabbing in my heart...utter, utter confusion. And a dislike of myself so strong it's nearly overwhelming.

I have been always blessed with good friends. I have nearly always dated guys who treat me good. I don't like bad boys. I don't like bad friends. I like people who treat me nicely, who are loyal, who care about me. In return, I do the same. He is none of the things I look for in a friend. He hurt me, and still, still doesn't realize, how badly.

I am reminded of a fable. I told my sister this fable the day I was first hurt. The same day. I'm a smart girl. I knew to cut him out of my life. That it was over, over, over. But what did I do.

A girl is walking in the woods. She comes across a rattlesnake. The snake is barely moving.
"Please," says the snake. "I'm so cold. Please wrap me in your coat, just for a bit."
"But snake," says the little girl. "You are a poisonous snake. You will bite me."
The snake assured the girl he would not. "I'm so sick. Please, I need to warm up just for a moment."
The snake continued to push, to beg, to plead. The girl begins to relent. She feels bad for this snake.
She picks him up. He bites her. She cries out.
"But snake, you promised, you promised you wouldn't bite me."
And as he slithers away, he says "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

the winner of the sweat award goes to...

There are so many running/tri blogs I seriously am having a hard time keepingup. Perhaps I should just subscribe to receive the entire feed of the entireRBF/Tri Geek Alliance. Sometimes I cant find/remember ones I like so I just kinda click here, click there.

Of all the bloggers, however, I've decided I simply must take the prize in...(drum roll) sweating. It's absurd. It's disgutsting. It's NOT RIGHT.

So yesterday, after seeing Scott's comment, I grew intrigued by that escalator thing he was talking about. Sure enough, my gym has one. You know, it's like a stepmaster only the stairs actually move? I climbed on.

Mofo! That sucka's hard as sh--. 'But what if I want to take a break,' I thought panicky-like? The stairs keep moving and there is nothing for me to do but keep climbing steps! 'But I want a little break in between floors!' Doesn't matter -the thing won't let you. I keep looking down at my feet to make sure I don't miss a step. When I grow more confident, I look up only to have my foot step too far into the step and crumple up painfully.

A gal walks by, says real friendly-like "That's a killer isn't it?"

It's because I am DRENCHED IN SWEAT. I can feel it pouring down my face, going into my eyes, my neck, dripping off my ponytails, my upper back, my middle back, my lower back. I am APALLED that it can't seem to stop. I can barely hold onto the bars cuase my hands are so slippery with sweat. And before you think, 'why,that loser, why not just reduce the level?' I was at a moderate level. It's just that bad.

I am the grossest sweater ever.

a new venture

Well, it seems the NYRs (new years resolutioners) have disappeared. That was fast. My gym was quiet tonight, save for a guy doing wanna be back flips on the mats.

I’m pleased to report I ran today despite being sleeeeeepy. An erratic work schedule and social schedule (I am far too old to be staying out until 6 a.m. I actually woke up at 1:30 p.m. on Sunday, which didn’t give me enough time to go grocery shopping before the Steelers game. I am aging before my very eyes. And I missed the entire first half) means my sleeping pattern is completely off. But once again, running energized me. It just felt good to run. Am I the only one who’ll be on the treadmill and be like, ‘I ran a marathon. I run marathons.’ ? Geez, get a life already.

At my newspaper, and at many others, we have blogs. We have one on Penn St. football, during the season, one from a local Marine serving in Iraq, etc. I pitched a running and fitness blog to my editor. He loved the idea. I figured it could be like this blog. I mean, I’m not gonna talk about what I ate for dinner – it’s rather embarrassing some nights – or how I was out until 6 a.m. – then editor will think if I’m tired one day at work it’s cause I went out. But I could post kind of like what I do here, just more officially-like. For example, I recently posted on how I’d like a bigger butt. I could talk to a couple of experts and offer real word advice on getting a bigger butt.

Or I could talk about trying out new sports. For instance, Kim and I recently tried out Nordic. That’s a sport developed by cross country skiers to train in the offseason when there is no snow.

I could also post local racing schedules?

Another idea I had was to track a couple of runners as they prepare for the Allentown half marathon. I have 2 or 3 friends that will be doing that race, their first race ever.

Nothing I’ve posted sounds really exciting, particularly to the running/tri community. If you’re like me, you read a lot about training and stuff. If anyone has any thought or suggestions, I’d love to hear them.

Coffee?

Well, now this is the first and last time I think i'll do one of these blog things (but thanks Flatman, for the diversion!). I don't even like frappacunios. They're too sweet. And why is this blog thingamabobbie calling me childish? Hmph. Plus, my addiction to coffee is way higher than low. It's at least medium. And since i don't like really sweet coffee, that's not right either. (But look, a graphic on my blog!)

You Are a Frappacino

At your best, you are: fun loving, sweet, and modern At your worst, you are: childish and over indulgent You drink coffee when: you're craving something sweet Your caffeine addiction level: low

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

not quite filet mignon

When you’re a bachelor, meals become creative. In the years me and my boy were together, we were often long distance. I always tended to eat better when we were apart. He’s a chef and he favored oil, butter, fat. A meal wasn’t a meal without meat (but he never did win the battle to get a deep fryer!).

Now, alone, eating is simpler. Why, in 3 minutes, I’ve got a meal. Last night it was reheated baked beans, a veggie patty and two tortillas, all smothered in hot sauce. High in protein, low in fat. If my mom could see me now.

At the gym yesterday, I found a strange machine. Think Tab, Tears for Fears, fruit roll ups. It’s called the step machine.

In my many travels through running blogland, I don’t run across many references to the stepper. In its heyday, the step machine was the preferred machine during the frenzied gym mania of the late 1980s, when headbands reigned supreme. I haven’t used one in years. I’m not even sure that I’m using it right. I got on it for a couple of reasons:
1. variety
2. to get a bigger butt

Will it work? If not, what is the best workouts for a bigger, plumper butt and thicker thighs? If I’m unable to find one, not to fear. Im gonna buy one of those padded butt things to wear under my pants. It might sound lame but really, it’s kind of like a padded bra.

Introducing...

Well, I finally cleaned up the old blog a bit. But if anyone misses my October training schedule I'd be happy to email it to you.

It's still boring. I went to Wil's site, which I hadn't seen in awhile. Talk about feeling the shamed blogger. I mean, girls got her eating schedule, pics, sleep schedule. I feel I've completed a workout merely visiting it. How does she do it all? How do all you folks with kids and a husband do it all? I had two things planned for Wednesday before I went into work at 3 p.m.: a workout and meeting Kim for lunch. Guess which one didn't get done?

For the weekend, I've got a nice long run planned Saturday and on Sunday, Kim and I are going to "National Women's Winter Tour." It's a hike, chocolate, soup and mimosas. How can I go wrong?

My old running partner LM has gotten engaged to a guy she met two months ago! Any hope I had held out for her returning to my running side has been dashed. Hmph.

I think of her because it was a year ago almost exactly that I emailed her after seeing her post asking for winter running partners. I was so excited, I remember, emailing something like, "Hey, i'm new to the area but want to try winter running! i'm planning to do the allentown half and a marathon in may."

I'd wondered if she would be impressed. Would she be too impressed to respond? I waited.

Not really. "Oh cool!" she wrote back equally as excited. "Let's run together soon. I'm doing Boston in April so perfect. I just did the Philly marathon."

Id learn later her time was 3:23.

But i'm sure she was still impressed.

NYR, the OC, TGK

Today was “New Years Resolutioners" night at my gym. How else to explain that I landed the final available treadmill at 8:45 p.m. and my mega gym has 22 treadmills (I counted em) and approximately 56 bikes and 45 elliptics/crosstrainers?

Yes, it’s that time of the year. When people, armed with firm decisions, sign up in a moment of triumph. This year will be different, they pledge. For it’s days into a new year. And anything is possible, the weight loss, the toning up, the hours at the gym, the possibility one may eat less cheese, drink less beer, pay bills in a timely manner, pay off credit card debt!

Wait. So ya, about those NYR gym folks.

I read a NYTimes article last year on the topic. People were whining about how they can’t get on any equipment because the newbies want to (horrors) become healthy and feel good too. Then they quoted a couple of managers saying that by February, things die down.

I hope those NYR gym folks stick around. But I’ll just give one tip (insert snob): drinking an energy shake the moment you walk in coupled with a 10-minute bike ride is a good start. But uh, you may need a bit more.

In brief:
Jeff, awesome, studly Jeff, completed the OC marathon Sunday with a time of 3:15. To save anyone from doing math, that’s like a 7:20ish pace. And…Boston qualifying time! I wish I’d been there as I'd planned, but I thought about you all morning, buddy. You rock.

I am runner up in Kahuna’s best non tri blog geekie awards (think that’s what they’re called). If I am not to finish first, and who doesn’t like to finish first, I am glad the honor goes to Alejandra over there in Kansas, a charming, deliciously optimistic gal.
But (and if you’re not Kahuna don’t read this)… since you know me, is that like cheating that I won? I feel sort of like a fraud. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying my blog’s boring, necessarily, just saying…

Found Lurking in Today's Emails

wait a minute, didn't i just finish this...

On behalf of Devine Racing and the New Las Vegas Marathon, thank you for being part of our inaugural race. The race captured the world's attention and was featured in Sports Illustrated, Time Magazine, USA Today and more than 120 television outlets. The "buzz" in the running world is tremendous and we expect the number of participants to grow dramatically.

As a gesture of our appreciation for your support, I am pleased to announce that registration for the 2006 race is now open for alumni only. We promised "guaranteed entry for life" for all first-year participants andthis is your opportunity to secure your place in the race before registration opens to the general public on January 23rd.