Running - Day 3

Well, I went running last night. Since Brewsky was the dog I took with me, there was no chase him warm up or cool down.

I clipped on the MP3 player and was listening to some good tunes with someone telling me when to walk and when to run. You know, I thought I was doing better than I am because I could still feel the burn when I ran (one minute is a LONG time - don't let anyone ever tell you differently!). Anyway, I had taken a shorter route than what I take when I walk them (but longer than I took Harley the other day) but I wasn't near being done when I got back close to my house. So I went down another street, thinking there was no way I wouldn't be done by the time I made it back around to my house. I was coming back around the corner by my house and looked at the time on the MP3 player - I'd been going for 20 minutes. The session is just over 30 minutes but I decided to pack it in and go home - I was too close. So, as I rounded the corner, she said "this is your next to last run". I responded with "uh, that was two runs ago sweetie" and I walked the rest of the way home. I felt like such a loser but well, I was dying and decided I'd rather die in the privacy of my own home than on the streets in my neighborhood. Plus, recent experience has shown that Brewsky wouldn't have run for help - he'd just have run (although he was pretty tuckered when we got home so maybe he would've just laid down beside me 'til he got his second wind).

Anyway, I got home and changed clothes and logged on to the computer to look up the link for the podcasts - I'd told someone at work I'd send the link. Well, I clicked on the wrong thing and ended up at the coolrunning.com webpage. For the first couple of weeks it says to do the routine for 20 minutes! Not 30 - 20! Which means I accomplished the task. Yeah, I'm still dying but I did it.

And the thing is, I do actually feel better after I've done it. In the long haul it will be good for me too - once I get used to it.

Oh, and something else I've learned about myself through this whole experience. The other day I went to the grocery store. I was buying healthy food to go with the exercise program. I'm walking/running now, with the goal of running a half-marathon by March. But what did I do? I drove around for ten minutes looking for a good spot. Apparently I'm one of those people - the ones who drive around a while to find a spot at the gym so they can walk on the treadmill, sort of people. Anyway, the irony didn't really sink in until I was walking into the store. If I'm going to run/walk 13.1 miles, I can surely walk a little further to get into the store, don't you think? Next time!

Happy halloween!

Save yourself!

That's kind of what I was thinking last night as I went out for my run. I hadn't seen the link to the Couch to 5K podcast Mel provided so I was on my own again, running when I thought I should and stopping when - okay, let's be honest, stopping when I wanted to.

I took Harley this time and somehow managed to avoid the whole chase-Brewsky-down-the-street-because-he-got-loose-as-I-tried-to-get-out warmup of the other night. Harley, who has in the past been the best walker, not pulling or stopping to pee or anything, decided that last night was the night he wanted to change HIS style. At first he was pulling on the leash and then he'd want to stop and smell something and then I'D pull the leash. When we ran, he would get immediately in front of me so that I was afraid of stepping on him or tripping over him and FALLING on him. He apparently had the same fears because he periodically looked over his shoulder with a "OMG this crazy lady is gaining on me" look on his face. I took a detour of our usual walk (making it shorter because I didn't think I could handle the full one, walking and running) and when we would walk, when Harley would want to stop, I reached a point where I thought, "Am I crazy? Let the dog stop and smell the roses - I'll just lie down here so he doesn't feel rushed." I didn't do that - I just thought about it because I knew it would be harder to get back up and he wasn't likely to send back help.

Anyway, overall he was actually okay (other than me thinking I was going to trip over and fall on him). It kind of made me think his previous owner might have been a runner. Either that or in his previous life he was chased by what he perceived to be a crazy lady.

Anyway, we made it back home in one piece and getting back into the house is usually the easy part. I'd put my house key in my shoe and thought I'd felt it shift as I stepped up onto the porch. I reached into my shoe and had it, until it slipped down into the shoe so that I had to take the shoe off, only to find it empty. I took off the other shoe and there it was. So, I was holding both shoes and Harley's leash, opening the door. Normally the other dogs will back away from the door and let whoever enter. Not last night. Brewsky saw my vulnerability and darted past me, as did Max. I dove for Brewsky (Max is usually pretty easy to handle) as my shoes went flying. I missed him but the dive was broken by the corner of the door jamb. Max and Harley both stopped (okay so I still had a hold of the leash with Harley attached to it but I'd like to think he wanted to stay behind) and Brewsky ran down the street, obviously thinking I needed a "cool down" portion of my run (little did he know I was content to do my cool down in the comfort of my living room). I changed shoes and came back to the front door to find Brewsky waiting to get in. It would have been okay but Max pushed past to get out and he took off again. He went as far as my next door neighbor's.

So, the run was okay but the "events" at home aren't as "fun". And I have a big old bruised goose egg over my left temple to prove it. I woke up in the middle of the night with pain in my left knee too (apparently the left side of my body is the sissy-side of my body) but I'm doing better this morning. And I'm looking forward to running tomorrow with the podcast that tells me "run" now "walk" now "run again" on the official times I'm supposed to. (Thanks Mel!) :)

Oh what a feeling!

I love that everyone is being so supportive of my joining in on the marathon fever. Really, I am. But I've discovered something about myself. I'm a follower. I'm not the leader - the pied piper, or the person with the great idea. No, I'm the one who gets tapped on the shoulder and asked "where's everyone going?" I say something like, "I don't know, something was said about a bridge, something about jumping. . . it sounds like fun though. Join us!"

It was that way with school. Last year Kristen and Ellen decided to go back to school. I followed suit in the spring.

It was like that with the marathon too. Inspired by others, I jumped right on the marathon train (oh if it were only that easy) with both feet and registered before I could change my mind.

Today is day two and I worked out with Richard . . . Simmons. I was sweating to the oldies. Tomorrow I will run again (I'll take Harley this time I think - and we'll hopefully skip the "chase down Brewsky as he bolts out the door and down the street" warm-up we had yesterday). I'm going to plow through the pain and work to achieve the goal of finishing a half-marathon in March.

In the meantime, I'm being told how cool it is that I'm doing this. People are proud of me. People are envious of me - or at least of what I'm doing/trying to accomplish. It's a nice feeling, really it is, but I can't help but find it kind of funny that I can't feel my legs but I'm inspiring people. :)

Torture - Day One

Well, I've done it. I registered for the half-marathon in Little Rock. It's happening March 15, 2009 and I'll be there.

The exercise started last night - with my credit card. After I registered for the marathon, I went to the mall to get proper running shoes (not sure I've accomplished that task sufficiently but we're going to try what we have for now). The shoes cost more than the marathon.

I left there and went and bought an MP3 player (my first) so I could download tunes while running. Turns out you have to pay for tunes so my credit card got even more exercise (and because of some computer glitch that I stayed up ALL NIGHT trying to fix, I can't even download songs - don't get me started).

I finally gave up and went to bed about 5:30 this morning, got a few hours of sleep and decided to start training (more like get the running for the day over with but whatever). I got dressed, and was going to take Max with me. Brewsky didn't care for that and darted out the door and ran down the street (he started out too fast and burned out quickly - which was a good thing, all things said and done). I got him in and then Max and I hit the ground running - well, not immediately but still. . . you get the idea.

By my third round of running and then walking, I could feel it in my legs and was wishing I lived closer to where I was at the moment (I think Max was too, truth told) but we kept on. (Kind of because we had to but that's beside the point.)

We finally made it home and I had an epiphany - I understand what they mean when they say there is a runner's high. It's not so much a feeling a runner has so much as a state of being - anyone who enjoys running has GOT to be high! It probably started with a Jeff Spicoli kind of person (Sean Penn's character from Fast Times at Ridgemont High) saying something like "Duuuudddde, that runner's high." Someone heard "Duuuuudddde, that's runner's high." and the rest, as they say, is history. That has to be it.

Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go settle into a running induced coma now . . .

Someday has arrived

Several years ago my ex-boss's wife ran a marathon. She was at least in her late fifties, possibly in her early sixties. I was very impressed. And a bit jealous because it's something I'd like to do myself. Yet, I did nothing about it then. Time went by and I still did nothing about it. I'd hear about upcoming marathons and think "someday". But still, I did nothing.

Fast forward to this past week. Wednesday we had an offsite team building activity at work and I carpooled with two other ladies to the event. During the course of conversation, one of the ladies mentioned that she was training for the half-marathon in January. The bug of jealousy bit me again but I just kind of swatted at the pesky little thing.

That evening I logged on to the internet, stopping by my usual places and came across a post (can't remember where I first saw it to be honest) where a writer friend of mine, Mel, along with another friend of hers were gearing up for half-marathons and decided to blog about their journeys here. I was really impressed and inspired but I still got out the can of bug killer for the jealousy bug flying about.

THEN, the next day I was chatting with this man at work that I not so secretly have a crush on (everyone but him knows about the crush - at least I hope he doesn't know) and he tells me HE's training for a half-marathon.

It's like the story where the river starts rising and rescuers try to save this man who keeps saying "Jesus will save me". He passes on the vehicles that come, the boats that come, the helicopter that comes - all to save him. Then, when he dies in the flood he asks Jesus, "why didn't you save me?" and Jesus responds, "Well, I sent you a vehicle, a boat and a helicopter..."

Now, it's not like I'm going to die if I don't do this or anything but I do think there's something to the fact that in such a short time it's become like THE topic of conversation among my friends and I want to take a look at that. It's something I've wanted to do for a while and if I do it this time around, I won't be doing it alone.

So, I've been online and the Houston Marathon is full - I can't run in that marathon but I CAN run in the Little Rock marathon in March, with Mel. Tell me this isn't fated. It falls on the first weekend of my spring break. My step-father lives in Arkansas so I could visit him (and not have to kennel my dogs!) and see Mel. How can I not think I'm supposed to do this - now?

I do have to admit though, that heavy breathing you're hearing from me at the moment isn't because I'm winded from just running - or because I'm excited or anything. No, sadly it's the kind of breathing that comes from hyperventilating. I mean, I am excited about this but I'm also anxious about this. But I can do this, right? Just because I throw up a little every time I say (or type) that I'm going to do this doesn't mean anything. It doesn't!

But that all said, I'm all in. I AM doing this because someday has arrived!

Greatest American Hero

For Maria, who had never heard of the Greatest American Hero - one of my favorite shows from the 80s. The premise was he was a reluctant hero, having been selected by the aliens. They provided the suit and a manual, but he lost the manual and had to wing it - figuring out what it did as he went. Kind of like Stephanie Plum, she doesn't really know what she's doing so she plays it by ear.

Oh, and he was a high school teacher by day - super hero by night.

Loved the show. :)

Gender-neutral Friendships

Growing up my best friend was a boy named Darryl. Our mothers were best friends and so we were always together. We were about five when I realized we had differences. You see, that's the first time I had the "show me yours and I'll show you mine" conversation (and for the record, I've never known a male who wasn't willing to show his - just saying). I was shocked and stunned and devastated because we didn't have the same "equipment". But I still didn't think we were really all that different. Of course, that was before I tried to pee standing up. (Don't ask.)

Until that point in time, I was completely unaware of any boundaries or differences between boys and girls.

But, as time went by the differences seemed to become more "obvious". Interacting with the opposite sex had to mean something. You couldn't just be friends. There was a time when I thought it was just my family that had that view point (I can't talk about my male friends without starting the story with "we're just friends. he's married/gay/whatever." and interjecting that into whatever story I'm telling a couple of times and closing with that as well.) but recently I've found myself being asked about SCG. Granted, there was a time when I had feelings that went beyond friendship for him but that's all in the past. We really are just good friends now.

When I was in San Francisco, SCG kept in touch with me via text messages. He woke me up, at least once, texting me (two hour time difference SCG!!! when you're arriving at work, it's still the middle of the night in SF!). The day I evacuated for Ike, he called me to be sure I was okay and find out what my plans were. He kept in touch with me throughout the entire thing and came over the first day I got home and helped me clean up the mess in my yard, without me asking for help.

He's introduced me to his family - and we've all bonded. (His wife and I go to lunch without him!)

If he were female, no one would question anything about it. But the penis factor makes it all suspect to many - most, actually. I find myself getting asked if he's "my guy" a lot. Uh, no, he's my friend!

I'm tired of trying to explain it. I'm tired of trying to understand it. I'm tired of trying to figure out when it became unnatural to be friends with someone just because of gender. I'm going to quit trying to figure it out. When Harry Met Sally is one of my all time favorite movies and in it they ask the question, can men and women just be friends. Well, you know, I don't care what people think because I've decided I'm going to stop analyzing it and just be thankful that we're such good friends. Because, you know, penis or no penis, such good friends are hard to come by.

Sweet. :)

The romantic in me really likes this. :)

In Case of Emergency...

When I got my new job I noticed that there was a sign like thing on the door that said, in big bold letters, FLOOR WARDEN. I had a bit of an idea what it meant but I wasn't 100% certain and just decided not to worry about it until it came up because the person who trained me (hahahaha, what a joke that was!) didn't mention anything about it.

Then this morning I noticed that I had FW training. Not making the connection I started calling other people on the invitation to see what FW was. I was told "Fire Warden". I figured it out from there.

Anyway, so I went to the Floor Warden training and they started discussing what our roles as Floor Wardens is. Let me just start by saying, my idea of how it worked is quite different than what we actually do. See, I held a similar role at another site and there my responsibilities were to get the list of names of people who should be on the floor/in the area and check them off. I never got to test my skills though because, fortunately, we never had an emergency.

My role in my new building is that it's my responsibility to ensure that everyone in my designated area get to safety - whether that be outside or somewhere else inside the building. I have to go from office to office and make sure they are empty of people and then close the door. If, by chance, someone has closed their door, I only have to knock on the door and yell "EMERGENCY - GET THE HELL OUT OF THE BUILDING" or some such thing and move on. But what this means is, if there is a fire in the building, I can't leave until I've gotten my people out - or done what I could to get them out first.

Considering I'm the designated hysterical person in a crisis, it's not necessarily the best plan of action. Unfortunately though, they didn't like my suggestion of letting my people know they should just follow the sound of my voice as I ran, screaming, out of the building. Go figure.

The cleanup continues

Well, I'm waiting for the adjuster to show up to assess the damage. I finally called a tree guy last week about the "limb" on my roof (and embedded in the ground). They couldn't give me any kind of estimate as to when someone could be out - to give me a quote. Said they'd tape the quote to the door if I wasn't home. Thing is, I'm not going to haggle. I need the limb down and this is a company I've used in the past - they're fair and reasonable on their charges. Just send someone out please.

The fence isn't holding up as well as it was, which is a concern for me. The poor dogs haven't been let out unsupervised since we returned from Arkansas and nobody is happy about that. I do, however, leave the back door open when I'm home - if it's not too hot and if they're even remotely interested in being outside (although, have to say, all I have to do to get them interested in going outside is to CLOSE the door!).

I have no idea who to call about my chimney. None whatsoever. My concern is that it could potentially be a leak threat and we're expecting rain (for the first time since the hurricane) today and tomorrow. Although, I suppose if it was going to leak with any consequence, it would have done so during the hurricane.

As for those who gave input on the gift card - thank you. I did end up getting them a gift card. I had lunch with Mrs. SCG the Tuesday after they came out (SCG got pulled onto another job - related to damages caused at another facility - for three to six months so I may not see him much, if at all, for a while). She acted like it burned her when she touched it and said they couldn't accept it. I told her they had to because it had their name engraved on it (it didn't but she didn't look - and it worked because she took it then). She said SCG would be pissed though and he did send me a text that evening letting me know he wasn't happy. I spoke with him the next day and I told him that I just wanted to do something nice for them and thought they could use it for a nice dinner out and after that, he seemed okay with it. By the way, Mrs. SCG insisted on paying for my lunch that Tuesday - in fact, she had arranged it with the waitress before I arrived, yet they were reluctant to accept something from me (lunch was $30, by the way - 1/3 of the gift card, right off the bat!).

Oh, and in other Ike crap . . . I have a rental property out in Hempstead, Texas. It's a little shack really. My mother crew up in it and the tenant that lives there now has lived in it for more than 30 years. She pays all of $80 a month (and I've often wondered if I'm overcharging her - seriously!). Well, the house lost a good portion of the roof apparently. I asked her if she could find someone to come out and take a look at it and she said she would. Of course there were no roofers that could come out immediately so she called a jack of all trades guy who gave us a quote of "somewhere between $12,000 and $18,000. Yeah, so not happening! I asked the tenant to call the blue roof program so we'd have more time to consider our options. Have to say, the house isn't worth $12,000 so there's no way I can afford/justify paying that on the roof. Not to mention, at $80 a month, I won't be re-cooping that expense any time soon. Not sure what I'm going to do about that. (The house is not insured - I tried a few years back to get insurance but it's not up to code so is uninsurable at this time so the cost would be 100% on me.)

Anyway, hope to have all the Ike stuff cleared up soon and have life back to normal. In the meantime, I really appreciate all the good thoughts and vibes.

What's going on in y'alls worlds?