I hurt in more places that I knew existed
I’m in the middle of a long post about today, but I’m too tired to finish it tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, with fewer aches and pains. I hope.
Month: October 2011
One subject only – it’s called preoccupation
John and I drove back into DC today to pick up our race packets for tomorrow’s race. (The Army Ten-Miler is tomorrow, by the way. Have I mentioned that? Talked about it much? Nah, certainly not on those days I actually ran 10 miles. This is probably coming as a complete surprise to you guys. Because you know how much I don’t like to talk about what’s going on with me.) For some reason (to do with costs, I’m sure), they refuse to mail the packets out ahead of time (seriously, just charge us all an extra few bucks and mail them the week before – we’re paying a ton to register anyway), so everyone has to come into town on the Friday or Saturday before the race to check in and pick them up. It’s where we get our race bibs (and activate them) and our t-shirts, and it gives a ton of vendors the opportunity to sell lots of over-priced stuff (marked on sale, but not really) to over-excited runners. This year (maybe every year, but it’s my first year, so what do I know?), packet pick-up was at the DC Armory. Not an easy place to get to, unless you’re going by metro, but unless you live near the metro already or are staying in a hotel for the weekend, you’re probably not going by metro. Actually, it’s not that hard to get to, but for once in my life, I didn’t look at a map first. I relied on my phone’s Google navigation with GPS. So we went the long way around. Through not-great neighborhoods. Listening to my phone telling us to make impossible left turns and then re-route us through worse areas to correct the mistake I made of not turning left onto a road with three lanes of traffic that didn’t go in that direction. Silly me. Our way back out was MUCH easier and is how we should have gotten there in the first place. Thankfully, the race itself does not start at the DC Armory and does not require us to go anywhere near it, either by car or on foot.
If you’re local and you want to go into DC early tomorrow morning (it’s going to be a BEAUTIFUL day) and cheer on a shitload of runners while enjoying the monuments, well, that would be cool. 🙂 The course map is on the website (linked above) so you can find a good place to watch (there are restrictions on what you can bring to the finish area, but you don’t have to watch from there – anywhere along the mall on the Independence side would be a good spot) if you’re coming. I’ll be wearing blue shorts and a navy blue tank top if you want to keep an eye out. Purple race bib. I expect it to take me about two hours (because I am SLOW) and I’m in the third wave (starts at 8:15), so calculate accordingly if you’re looking for me at a certain mile-marker. I’m hoping adrenaline will help my pace, but I mostly just care about not getting directed straight to the finish line (and being unable to finish the race) if I don’t make it to the 5-mile mark by 9:35. I say I’m worried about that, but I’ve done it enough times now that I’m about as certain as I can be that I’ll beat that particular deadline by at least 20 minutes. The five miles after that will be the hard ones.
With that, I’m going to try not to think too hard about it anymore tonight. John and I are going to pick up dinner (spaghetti) and settle in and watch Chariots of Fire and go to bed early. Tomorrow morning is going to arrive WAY earlier than usual.
So…..
Um….it’s Friday night. Saw some old friends last night, had a good time. Had a busy day at work. Left with nothing to say right now. Which generally means I shouldn’t be here. Also, if I’m sticking to reasonable bed times so I’m rested for Sunday, well, I shouldn’t be here.
Tomorrow, babbling will ensue. Probably.
Be-bop-a-lula baby
Tonight’s random hodge-podge of things I feel compelled to tell/show/say to you is brought to you by Dire Straits, who have gotten stuck between my ears. It’s mildly uncomfortable.
First, an apology to everyone who let me complain to them today: I’m so very very sorry. On the phone, in person, over email, I was all bitch, bitch, bitch, and moan, moan moan (with a little bit of whine, whine, whine here and there), and you know what? You didn’t need to hear that. No one deserves that. And it didn’t make me feel better, either, so who benefits? Exactly. I’m sorry.
Second, this video is cool (from The Daily What). 🙂 I love Disney (I can ignore all the evil corporate stuff because I love the movies), and I LOVE when they release stuff like this. My edition of Lady and the Tramp shows Peggy Lee singing “He’s a Tramp” (with the guys howling and barking as back-up) intercut with the animated footage. Fun to watch.
Last, yoga is HARD. (Yes, broken record, whatever.) There must be a name for the sequence we start with. That’s the hardest part, moving from one thing straight to another like that. If you know the name (I could ask the instructor, but how is that fun?), please tell me. We start in downward dog, then extend one leg up behind us, then bring it forward into a deep lunge and reach up with our arms (crescent, maybe?), stretch forward, then into a plank and down to the pose that sounds like chupacabra and looks like the down position of a push-up, and then up dog and back to downward dog. And all over again with the other leg, and we repeat more times that I can keep straight until I fall over. After I fall over, we move into things I can actually do (kind of) and that don’t hurt (much). Then we stretch. I love the stretching part. And the breathing part. And now I’m home and I just ate more rice pudding then I meant to and I need to go to bed because I have get up absurdly early again to go back downtown in the morning. So good night. I said good night!
Avoiding exhaustion
This is not the week to get sick. It’s not the week to get blisters or bruises or terribly sore muscles. It’s definitely not the week to get any sort of running-related injury. It’s also not the week to lose sleep or be overtired. To that end, I promised myself that I would be in bed reading by 8:30 tonight. It sounds utterly ridiculous, but I have to get up super early to get downtown tomorrow, and I’m tired just thinking about it.
And so I leave you with the most awesomest thing ever: a flowchart that walks you through the top 100 science fiction and fantasy books, as listed by NPR a few weeks ago. Apparently, since the list is just that, with very little detail to guide readers new to the genre(s), the helpful people over at SF Signal created this flowchart (which is the most awesomely wonderful thing and I want a big poster of it). And now there’s an interactive version! I was directed here by this post of John Scalzi’s, and in the interest of full disclosure, I’ll tell you that my list of books to buy grew three sizes based on NPR’s list and the comments from John Scalzi’s readers in this post on his site. You know, in case you’re interested.
It’s a kind of magic
I have what seems to be a bottomless, self-refilling (Is that a thing? What was the adjective that described the wallet in The Black Cauldron The Book of Three? And can I just say that calling a bottomless thing that provides endless amounts of food a “wallet” confused the hell out of me when I was whatever age I was when I read that? So much so that it stuck with me. Where was I?) never-ending can of shaving cream. I’m not even kidding, you guys. (I can’t type that with a straight face.) No, really, it’s super-light, has been for weeks, feels totally empty when I shake it, but there’s always enough shaving cream for my legs. It’s amazing. I should take it on the road.
Hope your day started better than mine
And I’m not talking about the weather. Sure, it’s cold, rainy, and gloomy, but I plan to stay inside most of the day, all cozy with the dogs. No, John and I got up and got ready to go out (he’s heading to his parents’, I was going to run a couple of quick errands), but before we could leave (thankfully, really), Roxy had a seizure. She’s been having them about one every week and a half or so, and I knew she was due for one this weekend. That was one of the reasons I had planned to stay home with her rather than go to PA in the first place. And maybe she did me a favor by getting it over with first thing – now I don’t have to worry about it every time I leave the house. Not for another week and a half, anyway. We (me and Roxy) spent about half an hour on the floor together, me holding her still, her drooling and panting on my right shoulder and arm. I certainly won’t be going out in the clothes I was wearing, and that sweater might be a goner.
She’s partway back to herself now (she’s eating). Once she recognizes her name, I’ll feel comfortable leaving.