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