I set out this evening on an experimental run to test the quads. I just went 3 miles, and I didn't take the Garmin because I didn't want to be focused on my pace; instead, I tried to keep it slow and easy. The run had some discomfort in the quads, but no pain, so I'm taking this as a good sign. I think I'll keep the runs short and slow the next few days and see how things progress.
In other news, I chipped my front tooth this evening. Actually, I initially chipped it about 12 years ago in a car accident, and it was fixed, but tonight it re-chipped when I ate an early evening snack. Of course, it chipped at about 5:30, and the dentist's office closes at 5 pm. So I'll have to call tomorrow to get an appointment to get it fixed. Until then, I'm incredibly self-conscious about my snaggle tooth.
TAT CN Header
Thursday, April 24, 2008
No Running to Report
Yet. I hope to go this evening, so maybe I'll update after that. Until then, I have some other stuff to jibber-jabber about. Wanna stay? Great if you do (but I caution: I feel long-winded today). If not, no hard feelings; I'll check ya later!
So, for the stayers: I'm reading this book to the left, "Beautiful Boy" by David Sheff, and it's really good. It's non-fiction and it's about a father (Sheff) and his experience with his son's drug addiction. Personally, I love a good addiction memoir. There's probably a reason for this, but it would take money and time on a therapist's couch to figure out. Anyway, this book is unique since it's from the father's perspective, so it's not the typical addiction memoir written by the addict.
What I find particularly compelling about the narrative is how Sheff addresses his divorce from his son's mother and their joint custody of their son. This is compelling to me because this resonates so closely to home. While I've read lots of stuff about growing up in dysfunctional homes, most memoirs of this nature often focus on extreme circumstances; so, I can sometimes relate to aspects of those people's lives, but I can't fully relate, because by many measures, my childhood was stable and secure.
That's why I find Sheff's discussion so interesting: his divorce and his custody were both as smooth as these things can be, yet he discusses the strain this put on his son, no matter how hard he and his ex-wife tried to avoid creating such anxiety. So, finally, I have someone who's telling a story that I can fully relate to -- it's the story of a "good" divorce, with a "good" custody, but with children who still end up feeling alienated, anxious, and angry.
So, reading this has had me thinking a lot lately (always dangerous territory, especially since I haven't run in days and days and running is often my therapy) about my own childhood. Thus, my compulsion to share:
My parents divorced when I was 3, and they shared joint custody of me and my younger brother. Their agreement was that we spent the school year with my mother, spent every other weekend with my father, split holidays and rotated each year (this included birthdays), and spent the summer with my father. Later, when I was 11, my father moved from Denver to Washington, DC, so we spent the school year with my mom in CO, and spent half our holidays and all of our summers in DC.
This is probably the best agreement a divorced couple can come up with, yet joint custody is a fucked up situation for kids, and I'll tell ya why: You develop parallel lives. My parents each re-married and each had more kids; this made my brother and I's existence, within this framework, even more duplicitous and precarious. My parents were trying to emphasize that we had "two homes" and "two families" but it really felt like we had "no home" and "no family," and that feeling of not belonging lingered with my for a looooooong time. In the book, Sheff writes that his son says, "I'm always missing someone." And that very adequately describes it. Except for me, I became a little more hard-hearted, and could probably have said, "I never miss anyone." I got so used to going back and forth and being apart from one parent and one family, that I simply got desensitized to it. So that when I went to college, I literally could not relate to those fellow students who, in those first weeks of freshman semester, were missing their parents so desperately.
Needless to say, I was an angry teenager, who frequently found ways to rebel (which were clearly cries for attention). This anger truly lingered until I was in my early 20s, and I don't think I even started to grow up until I was about 25. I think I was upset for a long time partially just because my parents, particularly my mother, couldn't grasp why I was so frustrated. I think my mother felt that she'd done the best she could (which is very true) and that she and my dad had given my brother and I very good, stable lives (which was also certainly true), but what she failed to understand, and what I think she still fails to understand about that childhood, is that despite their attempts at making it as normal as possible, it was still abnormal, and this abnormality felt even more exaggerated by their attempts to insist upon its normality.
Thankfully, I did have my brother, and I wasn't alone in navigating the scary chasm that joint custody creates for those lone children who float between homes, and he and I remain very close. And ultimately, I no longer blame my parents for the situation. I truly believe they did the best they could, and I'm lucky to have parents who cared about me so much that they both wanted custody of me. And in many ways, I believe it made me a better person (despite the petrifying fear of having my own children and potentially fucking them up for life). Partially because I was the oldest, and partially because of how my parents raised us, I have always been very independent and have always been very self-assured. I've always done my own thing and made my own choices (suffered the consequences of some very poor choices), and this has been in part due to the self-sufficiency that was a necessity for me since I can remember. And, thankfully, I've never been a drug addict like Sheff's son in the book.
Today, I have what I consider to be a regular relationship with all my parents: I love them, we keep in close touch (I generally try not to let more than two weeks go by without communicating with one or the other), and I know they are proud of me. But there certainly aspects that we all fail to understand about one another, and some subjects which we never bring up or discuss. Thus, we have seemingly settled on comfortable, but slightly superficial territory. At this point, I honestly don't wish for more. Maybe when I was a kid, I wished for the picture-perfect family that posed easily for studio portraits, but now I regard such childhood whimsy as pure fantasy.
Now that I'm 30, I've been thinking a lot about what I've experienced and learned in my lifetime, and one of the best lessons I think I ever taught myself actually came from running. I learned that everyone has baggage (even the most seemingly perfect people), and people have one of two options with that baggage: You let it weigh you down and you become burdened by the heavy load, or you choose to carry the baggage and shoulder the weight of it. On the surface, the second option seems more difficult, but actually, the longer you carry it (instead of allowing it to carry you), the stronger you become, and after awhile, it's not so heavy, and after an even longer while, your endurance and strength don't even remember that it was burdensome to begin with.
So, for the stayers: I'm reading this book to the left, "Beautiful Boy" by David Sheff, and it's really good. It's non-fiction and it's about a father (Sheff) and his experience with his son's drug addiction. Personally, I love a good addiction memoir. There's probably a reason for this, but it would take money and time on a therapist's couch to figure out. Anyway, this book is unique since it's from the father's perspective, so it's not the typical addiction memoir written by the addict.What I find particularly compelling about the narrative is how Sheff addresses his divorce from his son's mother and their joint custody of their son. This is compelling to me because this resonates so closely to home. While I've read lots of stuff about growing up in dysfunctional homes, most memoirs of this nature often focus on extreme circumstances; so, I can sometimes relate to aspects of those people's lives, but I can't fully relate, because by many measures, my childhood was stable and secure.
That's why I find Sheff's discussion so interesting: his divorce and his custody were both as smooth as these things can be, yet he discusses the strain this put on his son, no matter how hard he and his ex-wife tried to avoid creating such anxiety. So, finally, I have someone who's telling a story that I can fully relate to -- it's the story of a "good" divorce, with a "good" custody, but with children who still end up feeling alienated, anxious, and angry.
So, reading this has had me thinking a lot lately (always dangerous territory, especially since I haven't run in days and days and running is often my therapy) about my own childhood. Thus, my compulsion to share:
My parents divorced when I was 3, and they shared joint custody of me and my younger brother. Their agreement was that we spent the school year with my mother, spent every other weekend with my father, split holidays and rotated each year (this included birthdays), and spent the summer with my father. Later, when I was 11, my father moved from Denver to Washington, DC, so we spent the school year with my mom in CO, and spent half our holidays and all of our summers in DC.
This is probably the best agreement a divorced couple can come up with, yet joint custody is a fucked up situation for kids, and I'll tell ya why: You develop parallel lives. My parents each re-married and each had more kids; this made my brother and I's existence, within this framework, even more duplicitous and precarious. My parents were trying to emphasize that we had "two homes" and "two families" but it really felt like we had "no home" and "no family," and that feeling of not belonging lingered with my for a looooooong time. In the book, Sheff writes that his son says, "I'm always missing someone." And that very adequately describes it. Except for me, I became a little more hard-hearted, and could probably have said, "I never miss anyone." I got so used to going back and forth and being apart from one parent and one family, that I simply got desensitized to it. So that when I went to college, I literally could not relate to those fellow students who, in those first weeks of freshman semester, were missing their parents so desperately.
Needless to say, I was an angry teenager, who frequently found ways to rebel (which were clearly cries for attention). This anger truly lingered until I was in my early 20s, and I don't think I even started to grow up until I was about 25. I think I was upset for a long time partially just because my parents, particularly my mother, couldn't grasp why I was so frustrated. I think my mother felt that she'd done the best she could (which is very true) and that she and my dad had given my brother and I very good, stable lives (which was also certainly true), but what she failed to understand, and what I think she still fails to understand about that childhood, is that despite their attempts at making it as normal as possible, it was still abnormal, and this abnormality felt even more exaggerated by their attempts to insist upon its normality.
Thankfully, I did have my brother, and I wasn't alone in navigating the scary chasm that joint custody creates for those lone children who float between homes, and he and I remain very close. And ultimately, I no longer blame my parents for the situation. I truly believe they did the best they could, and I'm lucky to have parents who cared about me so much that they both wanted custody of me. And in many ways, I believe it made me a better person (despite the petrifying fear of having my own children and potentially fucking them up for life). Partially because I was the oldest, and partially because of how my parents raised us, I have always been very independent and have always been very self-assured. I've always done my own thing and made my own choices (suffered the consequences of some very poor choices), and this has been in part due to the self-sufficiency that was a necessity for me since I can remember. And, thankfully, I've never been a drug addict like Sheff's son in the book.
Today, I have what I consider to be a regular relationship with all my parents: I love them, we keep in close touch (I generally try not to let more than two weeks go by without communicating with one or the other), and I know they are proud of me. But there certainly aspects that we all fail to understand about one another, and some subjects which we never bring up or discuss. Thus, we have seemingly settled on comfortable, but slightly superficial territory. At this point, I honestly don't wish for more. Maybe when I was a kid, I wished for the picture-perfect family that posed easily for studio portraits, but now I regard such childhood whimsy as pure fantasy.
Now that I'm 30, I've been thinking a lot about what I've experienced and learned in my lifetime, and one of the best lessons I think I ever taught myself actually came from running. I learned that everyone has baggage (even the most seemingly perfect people), and people have one of two options with that baggage: You let it weigh you down and you become burdened by the heavy load, or you choose to carry the baggage and shoulder the weight of it. On the surface, the second option seems more difficult, but actually, the longer you carry it (instead of allowing it to carry you), the stronger you become, and after awhile, it's not so heavy, and after an even longer while, your endurance and strength don't even remember that it was burdensome to begin with.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Those Who Can't Run
Drink.
Thanks for all the advice on the strained quads (see post below). You guys are better than a real-life doctor! Based on your advice, and my own perception of the injury, I think I will take another rest day today, and try a short run tomorrow and see how the quads feel, and I'll play Soccer Sunday by ear. Although, to be honest, I'm thinking that soccer probably won't happen this Sunday -- I just don't want to strain these quads even more the weekend before a race; I feel as though I must practice caution. I like soccer, and I really want to play, but running is my first priority, so I have to keep that in mind.
Thanks for all the advice on the strained quads (see post below). You guys are better than a real-life doctor! Based on your advice, and my own perception of the injury, I think I will take another rest day today, and try a short run tomorrow and see how the quads feel, and I'll play Soccer Sunday by ear. Although, to be honest, I'm thinking that soccer probably won't happen this Sunday -- I just don't want to strain these quads even more the weekend before a race; I feel as though I must practice caution. I like soccer, and I really want to play, but running is my first priority, so I have to keep that in mind.Anyway, like I said, I'll run tomorrow, and I'll continue to treat this strain and I'll decided on Soccer Sunday on Sunday. In the meantime, I'm gonna sit back with a few frosty brews and watch the hubby make dinner.
Word to ya muthas.
Quad Strain
First of all, thanks for all the b-day wishes! I felt very special yesterday: I got b-day wishes from my co-workers and from my students, I got emails, calls, cards, etc from friends and family, and one of my classes even sang to me!
It was, however, a pretty low-key b-day. I had class all day and got home at about 7:30. Jerry made me my favorite dinner, I enjoyed a frosty beer, opened my presents, and got to enjoy some Cake Batter ice cream from Cold Stone (Jerry went and got me a whole quart of it!) while we watched an episode of "The Wire." On Saturday, we are planning a beach party with our friends, so then I'll party like the rockin' 30 year old I now am!
But...back to running. Particularly, I want to discuss my quads with you and seek your advice. Remember how I told you a few days ago at soccer I felt like I pulled both quads? Yeah, they still hurt. So, I have been reading some info on quad strain, and this is what I have learned:
It was, however, a pretty low-key b-day. I had class all day and got home at about 7:30. Jerry made me my favorite dinner, I enjoyed a frosty beer, opened my presents, and got to enjoy some Cake Batter ice cream from Cold Stone (Jerry went and got me a whole quart of it!) while we watched an episode of "The Wire." On Saturday, we are planning a beach party with our friends, so then I'll party like the rockin' 30 year old I now am!
But...back to running. Particularly, I want to discuss my quads with you and seek your advice. Remember how I told you a few days ago at soccer I felt like I pulled both quads? Yeah, they still hurt. So, I have been reading some info on quad strain, and this is what I have learned:
- Most likely caused by sprinting, jumping, or kicking. Um, yeah, that pretty much describes soccer.
- I probably actually strained both quads the first Sunday I played; I just took the injury as soreness, and the strain flared up when I played again last Sunday.
- Most treatments require the basic treatments that runners apply to nearly every injury: RICE and anti-inflammatories.
- I should not be foam rollering -- inflamed muscles just get irritated by that.
- I probably incurred a grade 2 strain since my quads have been tender to the touch and are aggravated by some simple activities -- like getting into and out of the car.
So, from previous injury experience, I know a few things, and chief among them is to treat an injury seriously, and I haven't run since Sunday, and have been religiously popping Advil (but I know it takes a few days for an the anti-inflammatory to build up in the system). But for as much as I know what I should do, my body wants to do something else. See, I want to run, and I want to play soccer this Sunday, but I'm not sure if either is wise, especially since I have the Disney 15K on May 4th.
Thus, the questions I pose to you homies: Do I continue to rest this week? Like the entire week? Do I skip soccer this Sunday? Or, do I give the running and soccer a try, but continue with the anti-inflammatories, ice, and be sure I adequately warm up before each activity?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
30 Years Ago Today
I was born. And the angels rejoiced.
So, it says in the book of Jesstianity. AKA: The Book of Swawesome.
So, it says in the book of Jesstianity. AKA: The Book of Swawesome.
Monday, April 21, 2008
One Day Until...
My Birthday!
Yesterday, I tried to argue with Jerry that the entire week should be devoted to the celebration of me, and we could label it "Jess Week." He was not so keen on the idea. Especially because I was making the case that to start off the celebration of Jess Week, he should drive to Cold Stone and get me a Like It size cup of cake batter ice cream (my fav, fav, favorite!). He said I could have a Klondike bar out of our freezer instead. Poop-head.
Anyway, Jerry said that the only person who's birthday gets more than one day of attention is Christ's and unless I start my own religion, then I don't deserve an entire week of celebration. Thus, I propose: Jesstianity. A religion based on the life and teachings of Jess. The basics of Jesstianity would be simple: Followers would be encouraged to live a fun, carefree life, in which running around, playing games, frequent afternoon naps, and excessive drinking would be encouraged. And part of the basic philosophy would be that "sometimes you fall down, but you have to learn to pick yourself up." (In case some of you aren't familiar with my clutziness, I am prone to falling down, running into things, or being knocked down. It happened on Saturday night, for example, when I tripped and fell at the bowling alley and got a little carpet burn on my left knee.)
When I explained the basics of Jesstianity to Jerry, he had this to say: "With the exception of the drinking, you just described the life of a two year old."
He later went on to further debase Jesstianity as being the "preferred religion of college students and toddlers" and said that if devout followers experienced the stigmata, it would consist of scraped up knees. I think he just really didn't want to go get me that ice cream.
Anyhoo...even if you don't want to adopt Jesstianity as your primary religion, that's okay (Jesstianity is a very tolerant religious practice). You can still send me a Charm City Cake, buy me a Coach purse, or get me a Corvette: But, you'll have to hurry because Jess Day is tomorrow! (I am at least laying claim to the day.)
Yesterday, I tried to argue with Jerry that the entire week should be devoted to the celebration of me, and we could label it "Jess Week." He was not so keen on the idea. Especially because I was making the case that to start off the celebration of Jess Week, he should drive to Cold Stone and get me a Like It size cup of cake batter ice cream (my fav, fav, favorite!). He said I could have a Klondike bar out of our freezer instead. Poop-head.
Anyway, Jerry said that the only person who's birthday gets more than one day of attention is Christ's and unless I start my own religion, then I don't deserve an entire week of celebration. Thus, I propose: Jesstianity. A religion based on the life and teachings of Jess. The basics of Jesstianity would be simple: Followers would be encouraged to live a fun, carefree life, in which running around, playing games, frequent afternoon naps, and excessive drinking would be encouraged. And part of the basic philosophy would be that "sometimes you fall down, but you have to learn to pick yourself up." (In case some of you aren't familiar with my clutziness, I am prone to falling down, running into things, or being knocked down. It happened on Saturday night, for example, when I tripped and fell at the bowling alley and got a little carpet burn on my left knee.)
When I explained the basics of Jesstianity to Jerry, he had this to say: "With the exception of the drinking, you just described the life of a two year old."
He later went on to further debase Jesstianity as being the "preferred religion of college students and toddlers" and said that if devout followers experienced the stigmata, it would consist of scraped up knees. I think he just really didn't want to go get me that ice cream.
Anyhoo...even if you don't want to adopt Jesstianity as your primary religion, that's okay (Jesstianity is a very tolerant religious practice). You can still send me a Charm City Cake, buy me a Coach purse, or get me a Corvette: But, you'll have to hurry because Jess Day is tomorrow! (I am at least laying claim to the day.)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Sucky Soccer Sunday
First of all, remember how last week I said that staying up until midnight drinking beer was NOT a good idea the night before soccer? Yeah, if you remember it, why didn't I?
So, yes, I got a little drunky-drunk last night, and was only feeling so-so this morning when I got up. But I did get up and go to soccer, but about 5 minutes into the game, I reached to kick the ball, and felt a terrible, shooting pain in my right quad. I tried to run it off, but each time I would sprint or kick the ball, either quad would screaming in pain. And I can distinguish between discomfort and pain; this wasn't just sore muscles acting up, this was painful.
Therefore, even though I felt like a boob, I opted to sit out the second half of the game. It just hurt really bad and I was really sucking out there since I couldn't sprint or kick the ball effectively. I iced both quads and stretched them some on the sidelines, but they are sore right now. I don't know what happened. My best guess is that I pulled the muscles, or at the least, strained them; however, I'm not entirely sure.
I suppose I rest them today and tomorrow, and see how they are on Tuesday for a run. I hope I didn't really injure myself.
So, yes, I got a little drunky-drunk last night, and was only feeling so-so this morning when I got up. But I did get up and go to soccer, but about 5 minutes into the game, I reached to kick the ball, and felt a terrible, shooting pain in my right quad. I tried to run it off, but each time I would sprint or kick the ball, either quad would screaming in pain. And I can distinguish between discomfort and pain; this wasn't just sore muscles acting up, this was painful.
Therefore, even though I felt like a boob, I opted to sit out the second half of the game. It just hurt really bad and I was really sucking out there since I couldn't sprint or kick the ball effectively. I iced both quads and stretched them some on the sidelines, but they are sore right now. I don't know what happened. My best guess is that I pulled the muscles, or at the least, strained them; however, I'm not entirely sure.
I suppose I rest them today and tomorrow, and see how they are on Tuesday for a run. I hope I didn't really injure myself.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Suit-Shopping Saturday
This morning, I went on a dreaded mission: To find a new swimsuit.
I was only partially successful.
See, my old swimsuits are getting kinda, well, old. My favorite one is 3 years old now and the bottoms are kinda stretched out and saggy. No girl likes a saggy bottom. So, I figured I'd go in search of a new suit since we plan on going to the beach next weekend to celebrate both mine and Jerry's b-days. I tried on about 20 suits and they all sucked -- I blame the suits, not my body. In the end, I decided to just buy a new pair of black bottoms (I have a black bikini top that I like but the bottoms that came with those are also saggy in the deire); thus, I got half a new suit.
It's okay. Nothing to write home about.
Anyhoo...that's about the extent my Saturday so far.
I did get to sleep in this morning, which was glorious, and now I'm going to iron some clothes for myself and Jerry because we're headed to my co-worker's memorial service this afternoon. Afterwards, some of the faculty in my department are meeting up at a downtown bar for a few memorial drinks to cry in our beer over the loss of our friend.
And, then tonight, I think we're going bowling, but I just learned of this. Funny how husbands can sometimes forget about social engagements that they've committed us to. Good thing I read about bowling on Ryan's blog, and then asked Jerry: "Hey, who's b-day is today that everyone else is going bowling for?" "Oh," Jerry said, "That's right. I forgot."
I was only partially successful.
See, my old swimsuits are getting kinda, well, old. My favorite one is 3 years old now and the bottoms are kinda stretched out and saggy. No girl likes a saggy bottom. So, I figured I'd go in search of a new suit since we plan on going to the beach next weekend to celebrate both mine and Jerry's b-days. I tried on about 20 suits and they all sucked -- I blame the suits, not my body. In the end, I decided to just buy a new pair of black bottoms (I have a black bikini top that I like but the bottoms that came with those are also saggy in the deire); thus, I got half a new suit.
It's okay. Nothing to write home about.
Anyhoo...that's about the extent my Saturday so far.
I did get to sleep in this morning, which was glorious, and now I'm going to iron some clothes for myself and Jerry because we're headed to my co-worker's memorial service this afternoon. Afterwards, some of the faculty in my department are meeting up at a downtown bar for a few memorial drinks to cry in our beer over the loss of our friend.
And, then tonight, I think we're going bowling, but I just learned of this. Funny how husbands can sometimes forget about social engagements that they've committed us to. Good thing I read about bowling on Ryan's blog, and then asked Jerry: "Hey, who's b-day is today that everyone else is going bowling for?" "Oh," Jerry said, "That's right. I forgot."
Friday, April 18, 2008
Niner
I decided to do the week's long run on Friday this week instead of Saturday; mainly, because I want to be able to sleep in tomorrow morning, and generally, if I don't get a long run in Saturday morning, it doesn't get done. So, Friday it was.
The run went just fine -- did 9 miles -- but the best part was in mile 8. I saw this guy turn onto the path up ahead about a quarter of a mile from me, and I could tell that his pace was slower than mine, so I set my sights on passing him. Two minutes later, he seemed a little startled when I warned him that I was on his left, but it felt good to "chick" him and leave him in my dust -- it gave me the little boost I needed to finish up in the final mile.
1: 9:31
2: 9:34
3: 9:32
4: 9:48
5: 10:00
6: 9:57
7: 9:43
8: 9:38
9: 10:10
Total Time: 1:27:57
After the run, Jerry had dinner waiting, and we ate and watched "Summer Rental" with John Candy. Pretty cute flick; although, "The Great Outdoors" is far superior. Now, I think I'll go to bed and read for a bit...man, I'm looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow!
The run went just fine -- did 9 miles -- but the best part was in mile 8. I saw this guy turn onto the path up ahead about a quarter of a mile from me, and I could tell that his pace was slower than mine, so I set my sights on passing him. Two minutes later, he seemed a little startled when I warned him that I was on his left, but it felt good to "chick" him and leave him in my dust -- it gave me the little boost I needed to finish up in the final mile.
1: 9:31
2: 9:34
3: 9:32
4: 9:48
5: 10:00
6: 9:57
7: 9:43
8: 9:38
9: 10:10
Total Time: 1:27:57
After the run, Jerry had dinner waiting, and we ate and watched "Summer Rental" with John Candy. Pretty cute flick; although, "The Great Outdoors" is far superior. Now, I think I'll go to bed and read for a bit...man, I'm looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Super Six
The right elements came together this evening -- timed eating right, legs weren't too sore, and the weather was perfect -- and I had a splendiferous 6er:
1: 9:32
2: 9:19
3: 9:22
4: 9:35
5: 9:39
6: 9:23
Total Time: 56:51
Now, I don't mean to rush on outta here, but "30 Rock" and the "The Office" are on in T-minus 3 minutes, so I gots to skedaddle. Check ya later!
1: 9:32
2: 9:19
3: 9:22
4: 9:35
5: 9:39
6: 9:23
Total Time: 56:51
Now, I don't mean to rush on outta here, but "30 Rock" and the "The Office" are on in T-minus 3 minutes, so I gots to skedaddle. Check ya later!
Rollering and a Reminder
Last night, I diligently foam rollered while I watched "Top Chef" -- dang, that is the best show around, but like "Project Runway," I think it's becoming predictable; still, it's predictably awesome. Anyway, back to the rollering: I rollered for like a full 30 minutes, so my muscles were essentially like buttah afterward, and I used that newfound flexibility to do some light yoga and some stretching. Felt SO good.
The result?
Legs are feeling good today. And that only took, what, 4 days? No problemo. Anyhoo...with the newly loosened legs, I think I will try to do about 6 miles this evening, but what I also have to do this evening is read a whole stack of papers. Blech. I really don't wanna.
In other news, I hope you guys are paying attention to the fact that my b-day is only 5 days away now. I hope you're working extra hard in composing that b-day blog toast in my honor and considering your drink of choice for when you compose it. April 22nd. Jess Day. Yeah, just cross out "Earth" on your desk calendars, write "Jess," and you'll be sure to remember.
The result?
Legs are feeling good today. And that only took, what, 4 days? No problemo. Anyhoo...with the newly loosened legs, I think I will try to do about 6 miles this evening, but what I also have to do this evening is read a whole stack of papers. Blech. I really don't wanna.
In other news, I hope you guys are paying attention to the fact that my b-day is only 5 days away now. I hope you're working extra hard in composing that b-day blog toast in my honor and considering your drink of choice for when you compose it. April 22nd. Jess Day. Yeah, just cross out "Earth" on your desk calendars, write "Jess," and you'll be sure to remember.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Another 3
Originally, I thought I might do something longer today, but it was immediately apparent once I got out there that the legs were still recovering, so I decided to just do another 3 miles.
1: 9:34
2: 9:34
3: 10:02
Total Time: 29:12
Now, I think I'm going to go lay on the couch for a bit and finish my book. I'm reading "The Hours" and I really like it -- and if the ending is going where I think it's going, it's gonna be pretty dang good. Earlier this week, I finished the novel "The Monsters of Templeton" and I thought it was alright. There were some innovative elements to it, but there were also a lot of trademark "first novel" aspects to it that detracted from the overall narrative. I guess I'd have to say that the best thing about it was the cover -- it looks cool.
I've also gotten to see a few movies as of late too. On Sunday, we watched "No Country for Old Men" and I have to say, that movie sure deserved its "Best Picture" Oscar. I thought it was the best movie I'd seen since "The Departed"; and it was one of the few movies adapted from a novel that looked exactly like I pictured it. On Monday, we continued our tour through Oscar nominees with "There Will be Blood," which I felt conflicted about: See, it was clearly a masterfully crafted movie and the acting was awesome, yet I really disliked some aspects of it. For one thing, it's like 3 hours long, and even though I have a pretty long attention span, I was getting antsy sitting through it. Plus, I felt entirely puzzled by the story's main character -- like there was some important aspect to him that was missing and that made it feel incomplete in some way.
Now, I still need to see "Atonement" (another novel I liked and am eager to see the film's interpretation of) and...what was another Best Picture nominee this year? I saw "Juno" (fabulous!) but I can't think of the 5th movie. Huh. This is gonna bug me.
1: 9:34
2: 9:34
3: 10:02
Total Time: 29:12
Now, I think I'm going to go lay on the couch for a bit and finish my book. I'm reading "The Hours" and I really like it -- and if the ending is going where I think it's going, it's gonna be pretty dang good. Earlier this week, I finished the novel "The Monsters of Templeton" and I thought it was alright. There were some innovative elements to it, but there were also a lot of trademark "first novel" aspects to it that detracted from the overall narrative. I guess I'd have to say that the best thing about it was the cover -- it looks cool.
I've also gotten to see a few movies as of late too. On Sunday, we watched "No Country for Old Men" and I have to say, that movie sure deserved its "Best Picture" Oscar. I thought it was the best movie I'd seen since "The Departed"; and it was one of the few movies adapted from a novel that looked exactly like I pictured it. On Monday, we continued our tour through Oscar nominees with "There Will be Blood," which I felt conflicted about: See, it was clearly a masterfully crafted movie and the acting was awesome, yet I really disliked some aspects of it. For one thing, it's like 3 hours long, and even though I have a pretty long attention span, I was getting antsy sitting through it. Plus, I felt entirely puzzled by the story's main character -- like there was some important aspect to him that was missing and that made it feel incomplete in some way.
Now, I still need to see "Atonement" (another novel I liked and am eager to see the film's interpretation of) and...what was another Best Picture nominee this year? I saw "Juno" (fabulous!) but I can't think of the 5th movie. Huh. This is gonna bug me.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Recovery 3
It was the perfect evening for a run -- nice and cool temps -- and even though it's hard to get motivated to run at 9 pm after a long day at work, it was a good idea to get out there. The legs were still sore, but as I ran, they loosened up, and were feeling much better by the end; the splits definitely reflect that:
1: 10:23
2: 10:07
3: 9:39
Total Time: 30:10
Afterward I stretched, but I can already feel the muscles starting to stiffen up again. At this rate, by the time my legs feel back to normal, it will be soccer Sunday again.
1: 10:23
2: 10:07
3: 9:39
Total Time: 30:10
Afterward I stretched, but I can already feel the muscles starting to stiffen up again. At this rate, by the time my legs feel back to normal, it will be soccer Sunday again.
Still Stiff
I'm less sore today than I was yesterday, but I still feel pretty stiff. My calves, especially, are killing me. I don't think I've been this sore even after running a marathon -- although, maybe my memory is just tricking me with that.
At any rate, I do plan to get a short, easy run in this evening after my night class. We'll see how that feels.
At any rate, I do plan to get a short, easy run in this evening after my night class. We'll see how that feels.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Stiff
I hurt today, homies. Really, really hurt. And not just my legs -- although they are the most sore (it hurt to put my pants on today) -- it's every part of my body. I had to just kinda flop out of bed this morning, and I'm walking around like I'm 80.
Soccer certainly kicked my ass yesterday.
Therefore, I'm thinking of taking an unexpected rest day today. Usually, I run on Mondays and rest on Tuesdays, but I think I may need to reverse that order so my body can catch up from the extra work it did yesterday. Yowza, I can't believe how sore I am.
In completely un-related, but very sad news, one of my department's secretaries died over the weekend. She's been battling breast cancer for awhile, and it had worsened in the past few months. Two weeks ago, she went into the hospital, and didn't return. It's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that she was here, just a few weeks ago (sick, yes, but here), and now she's gone. It's a crushing loss -- on a personal and professional level. She was such a great person, and she battled the disease with bravery and courage; I'm really saddened to hear that she lost.
Soccer certainly kicked my ass yesterday.
Therefore, I'm thinking of taking an unexpected rest day today. Usually, I run on Mondays and rest on Tuesdays, but I think I may need to reverse that order so my body can catch up from the extra work it did yesterday. Yowza, I can't believe how sore I am.
In completely un-related, but very sad news, one of my department's secretaries died over the weekend. She's been battling breast cancer for awhile, and it had worsened in the past few months. Two weeks ago, she went into the hospital, and didn't return. It's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that she was here, just a few weeks ago (sick, yes, but here), and now she's gone. It's a crushing loss -- on a personal and professional level. She was such a great person, and she battled the disease with bravery and courage; I'm really saddened to hear that she lost.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Soccer Sunday
I did get to play soccer this morning, and the chief thing I want to tell you is this: I feel like I just finished a 20 miler. Seriously. My legs are that dead.
To back up a bit, I should first tell you that it is NOT a good idea to stay up until midnight drinking beer when you have to get up at 7 am the next day to play soccer. Clearly, I have to treat the game with the same discipline as a long run or a speedwork session, and drinking 8 beers and cutting myself short on sleep are not good ways to prepare myself to run around for 80-90 minutes. Needless to say, I was a bit...slow...this morning when I got up.
However, out on the field, soccer and I fit together like PB and J -- it was like we'd never had the 10 years apart, and that was glorious. What was not glorious was that about 5 minutes into the game, I realized that no matter how in shape I thought I was, soccer was wearing me out. I played in the midfield, which means I did a lot of running back and forth, and it's not the back and forth that is so bad, it's really the SPRINTING back and forth that makes it hard. I was winded pretty quickly.
But, there were only enough players to play, no subs, so we played for about 40 minutes, took a 10 minute water break, and then went back out for another 40 minutes. In the second half, it started pouring rain, but because there was no lightning, we played on and finished up the game (my team lost -- poop), but while the rain was a pain to play in, it at least made things cooler, which was helpful because I was dying by the end.
Afterward, I was soaked, exhausted, and almost a little sick to my stomach, and when I was sitting down afterward, removing my cleats, socks and shin guards, my legs were wobbly like Bambi's. However, I also had SO much fun! It was great to be playing again and I loved the spirit of the team -- competitive enough to make it fun, but relaxed enough to not make it intimidating. I'll definitely be back next Sunday, and I hope that with each week, I get used to the speed workout.
Now, for the rest of the day? Well, it looks like it will be a rainy one, so I plan on crawling back into bed with my book, and I can't guarantee I'll stay awake.
To back up a bit, I should first tell you that it is NOT a good idea to stay up until midnight drinking beer when you have to get up at 7 am the next day to play soccer. Clearly, I have to treat the game with the same discipline as a long run or a speedwork session, and drinking 8 beers and cutting myself short on sleep are not good ways to prepare myself to run around for 80-90 minutes. Needless to say, I was a bit...slow...this morning when I got up.
However, out on the field, soccer and I fit together like PB and J -- it was like we'd never had the 10 years apart, and that was glorious. What was not glorious was that about 5 minutes into the game, I realized that no matter how in shape I thought I was, soccer was wearing me out. I played in the midfield, which means I did a lot of running back and forth, and it's not the back and forth that is so bad, it's really the SPRINTING back and forth that makes it hard. I was winded pretty quickly.
But, there were only enough players to play, no subs, so we played for about 40 minutes, took a 10 minute water break, and then went back out for another 40 minutes. In the second half, it started pouring rain, but because there was no lightning, we played on and finished up the game (my team lost -- poop), but while the rain was a pain to play in, it at least made things cooler, which was helpful because I was dying by the end.
Afterward, I was soaked, exhausted, and almost a little sick to my stomach, and when I was sitting down afterward, removing my cleats, socks and shin guards, my legs were wobbly like Bambi's. However, I also had SO much fun! It was great to be playing again and I loved the spirit of the team -- competitive enough to make it fun, but relaxed enough to not make it intimidating. I'll definitely be back next Sunday, and I hope that with each week, I get used to the speed workout.
Now, for the rest of the day? Well, it looks like it will be a rainy one, so I plan on crawling back into bed with my book, and I can't guarantee I'll stay awake.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Weekender
Last night: Went to a friend's art show. Saw art we couldn't afford. Had some drinky-drinks.
Today: Slept in. Met preggo for lunch and pedicures. It was fabulous; my feet appreciated the attention, and now they are soft and pretty. Went for a short run (2 miles) in the scorching afternoon heat (87 degrees out + afternoon sun = too hot for Jess). You'd think I'd learn.
Tonight: Dinner out with some friends at a nearby restaurant. Then, perhaps, we will watch "The Money Pit" that we have in our Netflix pile. We've been in an '80s movies trend lately, and recent pics have included: "The Great Outdoors," "The 'Burbs," "Spies Like Us," "The Three Amigos," "Fletch," and "Caddyshack." So, in other words, we've been getting our fill of Chevy Chase and Tom Hanks.
Tomorrow: Only thing on the agenda is soccer in the morning. Cross your fingers it doesn't thunderstorm tomorrow so I can actually go play. Then for the rest of the day? Well, that's not determined yet. I probably should go to the laundromat and wash our comforter that Scooter puked on this afternoon, but I really hate the laundromat (our washer and drier aren't big enough for our comforter -- it has to go to the industrial sized ones at the 'mat), so maybe I'll make Jerry do it. Marcy says I need to practice more husband-domination.
Hope everyone else is enjoying their weekend!
Today: Slept in. Met preggo for lunch and pedicures. It was fabulous; my feet appreciated the attention, and now they are soft and pretty. Went for a short run (2 miles) in the scorching afternoon heat (87 degrees out + afternoon sun = too hot for Jess). You'd think I'd learn.
Tonight: Dinner out with some friends at a nearby restaurant. Then, perhaps, we will watch "The Money Pit" that we have in our Netflix pile. We've been in an '80s movies trend lately, and recent pics have included: "The Great Outdoors," "The 'Burbs," "Spies Like Us," "The Three Amigos," "Fletch," and "Caddyshack." So, in other words, we've been getting our fill of Chevy Chase and Tom Hanks.
Tomorrow: Only thing on the agenda is soccer in the morning. Cross your fingers it doesn't thunderstorm tomorrow so I can actually go play. Then for the rest of the day? Well, that's not determined yet. I probably should go to the laundromat and wash our comforter that Scooter puked on this afternoon, but I really hate the laundromat (our washer and drier aren't big enough for our comforter -- it has to go to the industrial sized ones at the 'mat), so maybe I'll make Jerry do it. Marcy says I need to practice more husband-domination.
Hope everyone else is enjoying their weekend!
Friday, April 11, 2008
Random Recap
So, partially because Friday is a rest day for me, so I have no running to report about, and partially because it's the end of the week, I have a bunch of non-related tidbits that I thought I'd share. Excuse the lack of coherency and the exceptional length -- I'm feeling verbose today.
1. So, first of all: Marriage is a weird institution. One minute, you wanna scratch each other's eyes out and the next it's nothing but laughs and good times. Point in case: Jerry and I. Saturday we had a yelling match that had no equal -- it included the requisite door slamming and silent treatment. But then we resolved the issue and made up, and since then, we've been back to our regular light-hearted camaraderie. And perhaps it's because he can incite such anger in me, he can also spark so much love on my behalf, and seriously, he cracks me up on a near-daily basis. This week I have found him particularly charming, and I'll tell you the two comments he made that make me think so.
Comment Numero Uno: On Tuesday night, I called to let him know I was on my way home from my night class. We had a brief conversation about the day and then as we were about to conclude the call, he signed off by remarking: "Well, I have orcs to kill, so I'd best be off!"
That slayed me.
He's such a gaming nerd, yet instead of finding it geeky, I find it endearing and when he talks to me about the particulars of Middle Earth warfare, it warms my heart.
Comment Numero Dos: On Wednesday night, we were lying in bed having a strange conversation about whether or not turkeys have "taints" -- if you can answer the question, go ahead (and if you don't know what a "taint" is, I don't want to explain it). When he decided that my nickname from now on should be "Cheetah Cheeks"! Isn't that awesome? I think that's awesome.
2. What really angers me about smokers is not that they smoke -- I figure what you put in/take out of your body is your business -- so, no, I don't care about the smoking; instead, it's the littering that drives me nuts. All the time, when I'm sitting in traffic, I see people who just flick their cigarette butts out the car window onto the pavement of the street. This is disgusting behavior and I don't even wanna think about the amount of litter it must produce. Fine, if you wanna pollute your lungs, but no need to also pollute the earth!
3. My elderly student made a racist comment in class yesterday, and I didn't really know how to handle it or what to say, and it's been bugging me ever since. We were reading a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks titled "We Real Cool" and I asked them why the title is grammatically incorrect, and she said: "Because that's how the blacks talk in the ghetto."
!?!
Most students looked like they were gonna fall out of their chairs, but she didn't even really notice. See, I think she thought she was just making a plain observation, and I don't think she meant to hurt anyone's feelings -- despite the fact that if she would've looked to her left or right, she would've found a black student sitting nearby who probably took offense to her observation.
I simply responded that poor-grammar is not racially restrictive, nor is it a trademark of class or economic standing. Instead, I said, the poem intentionally uses poor grammar to make another kind of comment. At which point another student offered a separate, non-racist interpretation.
Like I said, I don't think she meant it as a comment to hurt people's feelings, nor do I think she was aware that such a comment was so offensive, yet does the fact that she's elderly excuse her from such ignorance? And should I have reprimanded her? It'd be like reprimanding my grandma! The whole episode has bugged me for the past 24 hours. Particularly my response/failure to respond adequately.
4. I was notified today that I was nominated as Professor of the Year, and the student commentary that was used as nomination slips was sent to me. But because I'm not tenured, I don't qualify for the award, so I don't get to go beyond the nomination process. It takes 3 years before I can apply for tenure. Then, I guess I can be recognized for my greatness. Until then, you may address me as "Jess, Potential Professor of the Year."
5. "The Office" last night was both one of the best shows and one of the worst shows I've seen in a long time. On the one hand, I was just grateful for a new episode -- we've been without for so long -- yet, on the other hand, the episode was so incredibly awkward that I felt physically uncomfortable. Mostly because I feel as though Michael and Jan threw a dinner party that resembled some dinner parties I've been to before -- it seriously made me squeamish. Yet, it had some of the most hilarious parts ever. Such mixed emotions!
Well, that's it for now. Thanks for hearing me blather on, and enjoy your Friday!
Yours Truly,
Cheetah Cheeks
1. So, first of all: Marriage is a weird institution. One minute, you wanna scratch each other's eyes out and the next it's nothing but laughs and good times. Point in case: Jerry and I. Saturday we had a yelling match that had no equal -- it included the requisite door slamming and silent treatment. But then we resolved the issue and made up, and since then, we've been back to our regular light-hearted camaraderie. And perhaps it's because he can incite such anger in me, he can also spark so much love on my behalf, and seriously, he cracks me up on a near-daily basis. This week I have found him particularly charming, and I'll tell you the two comments he made that make me think so.
Comment Numero Uno: On Tuesday night, I called to let him know I was on my way home from my night class. We had a brief conversation about the day and then as we were about to conclude the call, he signed off by remarking: "Well, I have orcs to kill, so I'd best be off!"
That slayed me.
He's such a gaming nerd, yet instead of finding it geeky, I find it endearing and when he talks to me about the particulars of Middle Earth warfare, it warms my heart.
Comment Numero Dos: On Wednesday night, we were lying in bed having a strange conversation about whether or not turkeys have "taints" -- if you can answer the question, go ahead (and if you don't know what a "taint" is, I don't want to explain it). When he decided that my nickname from now on should be "Cheetah Cheeks"! Isn't that awesome? I think that's awesome.
2. What really angers me about smokers is not that they smoke -- I figure what you put in/take out of your body is your business -- so, no, I don't care about the smoking; instead, it's the littering that drives me nuts. All the time, when I'm sitting in traffic, I see people who just flick their cigarette butts out the car window onto the pavement of the street. This is disgusting behavior and I don't even wanna think about the amount of litter it must produce. Fine, if you wanna pollute your lungs, but no need to also pollute the earth!
3. My elderly student made a racist comment in class yesterday, and I didn't really know how to handle it or what to say, and it's been bugging me ever since. We were reading a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks titled "We Real Cool" and I asked them why the title is grammatically incorrect, and she said: "Because that's how the blacks talk in the ghetto."
!?!
Most students looked like they were gonna fall out of their chairs, but she didn't even really notice. See, I think she thought she was just making a plain observation, and I don't think she meant to hurt anyone's feelings -- despite the fact that if she would've looked to her left or right, she would've found a black student sitting nearby who probably took offense to her observation.
I simply responded that poor-grammar is not racially restrictive, nor is it a trademark of class or economic standing. Instead, I said, the poem intentionally uses poor grammar to make another kind of comment. At which point another student offered a separate, non-racist interpretation.
Like I said, I don't think she meant it as a comment to hurt people's feelings, nor do I think she was aware that such a comment was so offensive, yet does the fact that she's elderly excuse her from such ignorance? And should I have reprimanded her? It'd be like reprimanding my grandma! The whole episode has bugged me for the past 24 hours. Particularly my response/failure to respond adequately.
4. I was notified today that I was nominated as Professor of the Year, and the student commentary that was used as nomination slips was sent to me. But because I'm not tenured, I don't qualify for the award, so I don't get to go beyond the nomination process. It takes 3 years before I can apply for tenure. Then, I guess I can be recognized for my greatness. Until then, you may address me as "Jess, Potential Professor of the Year."
5. "The Office" last night was both one of the best shows and one of the worst shows I've seen in a long time. On the one hand, I was just grateful for a new episode -- we've been without for so long -- yet, on the other hand, the episode was so incredibly awkward that I felt physically uncomfortable. Mostly because I feel as though Michael and Jan threw a dinner party that resembled some dinner parties I've been to before -- it seriously made me squeamish. Yet, it had some of the most hilarious parts ever. Such mixed emotions!
Well, that's it for now. Thanks for hearing me blather on, and enjoy your Friday!
Yours Truly,
Cheetah Cheeks
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Crappy 4
The classic dilemma for me with Daylight Savings is this: When to eat dinner. See, I'm an evening runner by disposition, but because I grow faint in the sun, I prefer to run at dusk. In the winter, dusk is around 5 pm. Perfect timing: I can go out, get my run in, and be back for a normal dinner hour. But once Daylight Savings begins and the days get naturally longer, dusk doesn't fall until about 7:30 pm. Do you see my problem?
It's either eat at, like, 4:30 pm and allow a few hours to digest before heading out, or it's eating dinner at 9 pm. Neither is a very desirable dinner hour.
So, this evening we chose the early-bird dinner, but clearly I ate too much and didn't allow enough time for digestion because by the time I went out for my run, I suffered. I planned on doing 5 miles, but within the first mile, my tummy was upset and I had heartburn like I haven't had in a long time.
Around mile 3, I made the executive decision to turn home early and cut the run down to 4 miles instead of 5, and even with that decision, I had to walk for a bit in mile 4 to allow the tummy to settle some. Here are the dirty digits:
1: 9:36
2: 9:43
3: 9:47 (feeling kinda pukey at this point)
4: 12:11
Total Time: 41:18
So, I suppose I have one of two options before me: eat a much smaller meal for early dinner or go with the late dinner. Running in the morning during the week just isn't an option.
It's either eat at, like, 4:30 pm and allow a few hours to digest before heading out, or it's eating dinner at 9 pm. Neither is a very desirable dinner hour.
So, this evening we chose the early-bird dinner, but clearly I ate too much and didn't allow enough time for digestion because by the time I went out for my run, I suffered. I planned on doing 5 miles, but within the first mile, my tummy was upset and I had heartburn like I haven't had in a long time.
Around mile 3, I made the executive decision to turn home early and cut the run down to 4 miles instead of 5, and even with that decision, I had to walk for a bit in mile 4 to allow the tummy to settle some. Here are the dirty digits:
1: 9:36
2: 9:43
3: 9:47 (feeling kinda pukey at this point)
4: 12:11
Total Time: 41:18
So, I suppose I have one of two options before me: eat a much smaller meal for early dinner or go with the late dinner. Running in the morning during the week just isn't an option.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Sixer
I suppose in lieu of gifts, I will settle for a birthday toast and celebratory drink in my honor. So, remember to mark your calendars: April 22. That's my b-day. I expect you to post something clever in my honor and have a drinky-drink and think of me. You have 13 days to think about your dedication.
So...in other news, I had a nice 6 miler this evening:
1: 9:24
2: 9:21
3: 9:36
4: 9:33
5: 9:43
6: 9:49
Total Time: 57:29
It was a nice, cool evening, and the only thing that sucked about the run was that the iPod's battery pooped itself in the last half mile. I was right in the middle of Metallica's "Fuel" and then -- nothing. Silence. I blame the quiet for the last mile's slow time.
So...in other news, I had a nice 6 miler this evening:
1: 9:24
2: 9:21
3: 9:36
4: 9:33
5: 9:43
6: 9:49
Total Time: 57:29
It was a nice, cool evening, and the only thing that sucked about the run was that the iPod's battery pooped itself in the last half mile. I was right in the middle of Metallica's "Fuel" and then -- nothing. Silence. I blame the quiet for the last mile's slow time.
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