In an effort to move on from my recent funk, I'm going to write about the other thing that is mildly interesting in my life. I dine out a lot - at least 3 days a week. I've been to the vast majority of "fine" dining restaurants in St. Louis (well, except Tony's, but honestly, I hear its not worth the hype).
Anyway, on Monday night I tried a place that's relatively new for the first time - Sage. I think my expectations were overly high because one of my top five ever restaurant experiences was at a different restaurant named after an herb
(Thyme in Chicago). Sage a nice little restaurant, located across the street from the AB brewery in Soulard. The atmosphere is relatively nice, although its a little too bright for in there for me and I can't really agree with the decision to have a TV in the dining room of a restaurant that charges $20 an entree. Its not like they don't have a separate bar area. The nicest element of the decor/atmosphere, in my opinion, is the stonework. It makes it very earthy (something that the metal chairs detract from - why not go with wood when you are doing an earth tone restaurant).
Moving on to the food - I order the spinach salad. The greens were fresh and it wasn't overdressed. The bite of the sundried tomatoes were a great contrast to the dressing and the salty-sweet pretzel croutons made a nice "local" touch (they were made with pretzels from a local pretzel maker). All around a good way to start the meal.
The entree was a disappointment. When I order seafood at a restaurant, I have high expectations - fish should not have bones and shellfish should not have shell. Getting a half peeled shrimp grossed me out. I have no objection to peel and eat shrimp, or fried shrimp with the tail on, but when its clear that the shrimp were meant to be peeled (umm...all the rest of them were), I do not want to have to either pass on the shrimp or get my fingers all saucy to take the tail and legs off my dinner. Plus then you have tail and legs still sitting on your plate. I felt bad about mentioning it to the waitress (did not expect to get anything free, but if I worked in a kitchen at a new restaurant its the kind of thing I would want to know). She appologized and gave us free desserts, but it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. I'd go back to the restaurant, but probably will not order that otherwise tasteless pasta again. The pasta really was pretty uninteresting - I was expecting more seafood and its texture was a huge letdown. It was just very mushy and bland - fine for oatmeal,not so great for pasta.
The desserts were more interesting. They come in little shot glasses, and you can take them right off the waitress's tray. We order the key lime pie, the pumpkin, and a brownie thing. The pumpkin was by far the best, but it didn't really meet its description - described as a pumpkin gooey butter cake but there was nothing resembling gooey butter cake in it (gooey butter cake is a weird St. Louis thing that most resembles extra buttery under cooked sugar cookies). The brownie was a bit dry, and the key lime pie was almost inedible. The first taste was yummy and good - the smooth creamy sweetness you expect from key lime pie, but then immediately after that first taste there was an explosion of sour, as though it was lacking the right amount of sugar or too much lime juice had been added.
Anyway, while I wasn't impressed with this place, I'll probably go back. We had heard that the sandwiches were good and they are more reasonably priced.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
We can work it out...
My funk continues. When people ask me how I'm doing, how the elbow is, my standard answer is "fine" and I really mean that. Its not bad; its not good; I'm not bad; I'm not good. I'm "fine." Fine as in, it could be worse - I could be unable to do my chosen career as a result of my injuries - like a doctor or an artist or a chef. So what if I can't knit or do needlepoint or take kick boxing classes or go rock climbing or eat with chop sticks (I think its that last one that makes me cry the most - strange isn't it).
I've come to realize that I'll probably never eat or run or even wave goodbye to a friend like a normal person again. I'm frustrated, and I'm angry, and I'm scared. Its not getting better, and in some ways, its getting worse. My wrist hurts; it pops when I turn it and now sometimes the physical therapy for my elbow makes me have sharp pain in my wrist. I'm convinced that my wrist is trying to make up for what my elbow can no longer do. The last two fingers on the hand have started to hurt - its a GREAT new development. At the same time, the screws under my skin itch. Its a constant annoyance.
I know I shouldn't be so angry and upset about this. I could have so many worse problems. Still, it feels like my life was turned upside down on a hot sunny Sunday in August. I hadn't even planned to go riding that day, but I needed to take my mind off the boy I was seeing that evening. Yay, I really managed to take my mind off him.
I think I'm most frustrated right now because I have so many unanswered questions. Should it be acting this way? Why isn't it making any improvements? Why is it making those popping feelings? What's physically keeping it from turning? Is my wrist alright?
Sorry I'm such a downer lately. This is harder for me than I even expected it to be.
I've come to realize that I'll probably never eat or run or even wave goodbye to a friend like a normal person again. I'm frustrated, and I'm angry, and I'm scared. Its not getting better, and in some ways, its getting worse. My wrist hurts; it pops when I turn it and now sometimes the physical therapy for my elbow makes me have sharp pain in my wrist. I'm convinced that my wrist is trying to make up for what my elbow can no longer do. The last two fingers on the hand have started to hurt - its a GREAT new development. At the same time, the screws under my skin itch. Its a constant annoyance.
I know I shouldn't be so angry and upset about this. I could have so many worse problems. Still, it feels like my life was turned upside down on a hot sunny Sunday in August. I hadn't even planned to go riding that day, but I needed to take my mind off the boy I was seeing that evening. Yay, I really managed to take my mind off him.
I think I'm most frustrated right now because I have so many unanswered questions. Should it be acting this way? Why isn't it making any improvements? Why is it making those popping feelings? What's physically keeping it from turning? Is my wrist alright?
Sorry I'm such a downer lately. This is harder for me than I even expected it to be.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Leaving the comfort zone
Last night at about 3:40 a.m. (I know that because I got a text message then that woke me up and got me thinking), I made a decision about my future. I decided that I can't stay in St. Louis next year, that I have to see if I can make it in Chicago or D.C. or someplace else.
I've wanted to stay in St. Louis because its comfortable. I know my way around here - I know where to find the good grocery store, the quick post office, the best sushi. I've got some good friends here, and I can happily drive my little car to work every day, never having to interact with anyone. Yet, when I go out on dates with people who have never left Missouri, never experienced living anywhere else, I am immediately bored. I judge those people, and in that same way, I judge myself. Why not at least try "making it" in a big city? Its not like Chicago would be that big of a risk - my family is there, I have friends there from law school, I kind of know my way around already. I can get advice as to which law firms treat their associates like slaves and which ones respect a work/life balance.
And then there is the money. After talking to my friends here regarding the amount they work, I'm more and more convinced that the hours are little different from midsized firms in Chicago, but the pay - well, that's very different. Since Chicago firms would count my clerkship as credit toward pay and partnership, I would come in as a third year associate up there. Also, I would get a clerkship bonus which these days is not something to sneeze at (down payment on a condo). In St. Louis - I get jack. Plus, the firm I previously worked at is likely merging with another firm to become a mega-firm (600+ attorneys), I don't see how this could possibly be a better "work environment" than most Chicago firms.
So, that was my thought process in the middle of the night. Does it still make sense in the light of day? Possibly, no probably. Now, I just need to take some action.
I've wanted to stay in St. Louis because its comfortable. I know my way around here - I know where to find the good grocery store, the quick post office, the best sushi. I've got some good friends here, and I can happily drive my little car to work every day, never having to interact with anyone. Yet, when I go out on dates with people who have never left Missouri, never experienced living anywhere else, I am immediately bored. I judge those people, and in that same way, I judge myself. Why not at least try "making it" in a big city? Its not like Chicago would be that big of a risk - my family is there, I have friends there from law school, I kind of know my way around already. I can get advice as to which law firms treat their associates like slaves and which ones respect a work/life balance.
And then there is the money. After talking to my friends here regarding the amount they work, I'm more and more convinced that the hours are little different from midsized firms in Chicago, but the pay - well, that's very different. Since Chicago firms would count my clerkship as credit toward pay and partnership, I would come in as a third year associate up there. Also, I would get a clerkship bonus which these days is not something to sneeze at (down payment on a condo). In St. Louis - I get jack. Plus, the firm I previously worked at is likely merging with another firm to become a mega-firm (600+ attorneys), I don't see how this could possibly be a better "work environment" than most Chicago firms.
So, that was my thought process in the middle of the night. Does it still make sense in the light of day? Possibly, no probably. Now, I just need to take some action.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
a good ache
My legs hurt and so do my abs. I tossed and turned all night because in every position, I was just a little uncomfortable. I was exhausted and yet I felt more alive than I have in months. No, I didn't break my dry spell - I went running.
My doctor finally gave me approval to do everything I can do (meaning, if my arm physically can do something, I'm allowed to do it) on Thursday last week. My gym at work is closed for remodeling so I have to run outside, and I had to deal with my landlord on Thursday after work and I had to work late on Friday night. So, yesterday was the first chance I've had. It was both wonderful and miserable. It was a grey cool day and on the second half of the run, I was running in the rain. It was wonderful because there is nothing like running - feeling like I am really working myself hard, getting the head nod from other runners (amazing how ignored I felt when I was walking the same path with a giant arm splint), feeling my skin flush, going from slightly chilled to overheated. I love the feeling. Still, parts of that run were miserable - I hate running in the rain (generally I avoid it at all costs) and this time I didn't even have a hat so I was getting rain in my eyes, I had forgotten how sore my legs and butt get when I haven't run in a long time. Its a good ache, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
To update you on the arm, I'm really beginning to get scared even though the doctor and my physical therapist have told me "I'm not giving up on you yet.' See, while those words are encouraging, they are also frightening - might someone want to give up on me now? My supination is terrible and my therapist is now allowed to touch me. She's doing one of the most aggressive types of physical therapy on me "level 4s" or some such - takes me to the point of pain and then stays there with a slight pulsing. Also, the hardware is pretty close to my skin - if you touch my elbow you can feel the pin heads - um...neat huh...
On a note of life getting back to normal - I am again a terrible dish doer, even with a dishwasher. Today, we were out of bowls and spoons. I did finish loading the dishwasher and turn it on, but I ate my breakfast cereal out of a decorative dip bowl with a plastic spoon - yeah, and I think I'm a grownup...
My doctor finally gave me approval to do everything I can do (meaning, if my arm physically can do something, I'm allowed to do it) on Thursday last week. My gym at work is closed for remodeling so I have to run outside, and I had to deal with my landlord on Thursday after work and I had to work late on Friday night. So, yesterday was the first chance I've had. It was both wonderful and miserable. It was a grey cool day and on the second half of the run, I was running in the rain. It was wonderful because there is nothing like running - feeling like I am really working myself hard, getting the head nod from other runners (amazing how ignored I felt when I was walking the same path with a giant arm splint), feeling my skin flush, going from slightly chilled to overheated. I love the feeling. Still, parts of that run were miserable - I hate running in the rain (generally I avoid it at all costs) and this time I didn't even have a hat so I was getting rain in my eyes, I had forgotten how sore my legs and butt get when I haven't run in a long time. Its a good ache, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
To update you on the arm, I'm really beginning to get scared even though the doctor and my physical therapist have told me "I'm not giving up on you yet.' See, while those words are encouraging, they are also frightening - might someone want to give up on me now? My supination is terrible and my therapist is now allowed to touch me. She's doing one of the most aggressive types of physical therapy on me "level 4s" or some such - takes me to the point of pain and then stays there with a slight pulsing. Also, the hardware is pretty close to my skin - if you touch my elbow you can feel the pin heads - um...neat huh...
On a note of life getting back to normal - I am again a terrible dish doer, even with a dishwasher. Today, we were out of bowls and spoons. I did finish loading the dishwasher and turn it on, but I ate my breakfast cereal out of a decorative dip bowl with a plastic spoon - yeah, and I think I'm a grownup...
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
If your going through hell...
So, I lied.
Have you ever had one of those days where you can't decide whether you want to vomit or cry because you are just so angry and frustrated,where every light seems to be red, where you realize that you messed up,but its not really your fault, where a stupid electronic recording caused all your problems? Yeah, that's my day today. Gahh...now time to eat something to settle my stomach, and possibly grab a box of tissues.
Have you ever had one of those days where you can't decide whether you want to vomit or cry because you are just so angry and frustrated,where every light seems to be red, where you realize that you messed up,but its not really your fault, where a stupid electronic recording caused all your problems? Yeah, that's my day today. Gahh...now time to eat something to settle my stomach, and possibly grab a box of tissues.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
blah
These past couple of months have been difficult for me. I've had a lot of difficulty with the little things - going for weeks without being able to shower, being forbidden to workout in any meaningful way, not being able to wear sleeves, not being able to put my hair in a ponytail (and remember I couldn't shower). All minor annoyances that have added up to a very moody and unhappy Megan. Wearing an arm brace has made me feel like a bit of a socialfreak. My parents worry about me for no reason (mom freaked out when she couldn't reach me one day, thinking that I had been in a car accident or something - and those of you who know me, know that I rarely answer my phone).
Now, my arms has begun to heal, and I really hope that I will get all of my abilities back - that this time next year I'll be able to do everything I could do before. Still, I'm beginning to freak out a little. The suplanation and pronation aren't improving at all. It makes me worry that maybe they never will - I know its concerning my physical therapist as well, but she keeps telling me not to worry yet. I'm hopeful, but afraid.
On the life front, I'm afraid that I'm becoming a bad friend to one of my good friends here. I don't want to go out with her because I just can't hear about her ex-bf any more. Its been over two months since they broke up, and hearing her agonize continuously over an ass who she can clearly do better than is driving me a bit daft.
Not to mention the fact that I let my heart get involved with someone I knew better than to care about. When will I learn to trust my instincts about people and not trust them until they have given me a reason to trust. Plus then there's the weight gain that has come with sitting on my butt instead of working out 5+ days a week. I'm working on it, but right now I feel fat and unattractive and freak like. I guess I've had better self-esteem days.
So, yeah, that's generally how I'm doing. I'll try to be more positive the next time I post, I promise.
Now, my arms has begun to heal, and I really hope that I will get all of my abilities back - that this time next year I'll be able to do everything I could do before. Still, I'm beginning to freak out a little. The suplanation and pronation aren't improving at all. It makes me worry that maybe they never will - I know its concerning my physical therapist as well, but she keeps telling me not to worry yet. I'm hopeful, but afraid.
On the life front, I'm afraid that I'm becoming a bad friend to one of my good friends here. I don't want to go out with her because I just can't hear about her ex-bf any more. Its been over two months since they broke up, and hearing her agonize continuously over an ass who she can clearly do better than is driving me a bit daft.
Not to mention the fact that I let my heart get involved with someone I knew better than to care about. When will I learn to trust my instincts about people and not trust them until they have given me a reason to trust. Plus then there's the weight gain that has come with sitting on my butt instead of working out 5+ days a week. I'm working on it, but right now I feel fat and unattractive and freak like. I guess I've had better self-esteem days.
So, yeah, that's generally how I'm doing. I'll try to be more positive the next time I post, I promise.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
update
Today, I had my "see" appointment following my week of "waiting." Unfortunately, the news is not good. They took two sets of ex rays, one set with the splint and one set without. The set without was incredibly painful again because they needed me to twist my elbow "to the point that I could endure." That's not really a phrase that you want to hear from a doctor, and so I'm back on the narcotics for the first time since Wednesday night. So yeah, the bone fragments had moved, and not in a good way. My doc got this really concerned look as he examined the ex rays, and then called in one of his partners to consult. She's a nationally renowned elbow surgeon, and she took one look and said this needs surgery.
In that moment I got myself a new doctor. She scheduled me for surgery next Monday. They are hoping to only have screw the bone back together and not have to give me a replacement tip. If they can screw it in, then it will be an outpatient procedure, if not I might get to enjoy the wonderful hospitality of Barnes. They say I'll be taking at least a week off of work afterward, can plan on another two weeks in the splint (until surgery and a week after surgery), and it will be at least 3 months post surgery before I'm back to normal.
The good news/bad news is that I am approved to ride the recumbent bike and only the recumbent bike at the gym for the near future. The doc doesn't want me doing anything where I could trip and fall until probably 6 weeks post-op so no running, walking, elliptical or real bike for quite a long time. Being inactive this week has driven me NUTS! As you all know, I'm a very active person. Being slothful has made me moody and depressed. Not only am I concerned about gaining weight because I'm not working out six days a week, but I can't handle the moodiness. I need my endorphins hit!
I'll keep you all updated.
In that moment I got myself a new doctor. She scheduled me for surgery next Monday. They are hoping to only have screw the bone back together and not have to give me a replacement tip. If they can screw it in, then it will be an outpatient procedure, if not I might get to enjoy the wonderful hospitality of Barnes. They say I'll be taking at least a week off of work afterward, can plan on another two weeks in the splint (until surgery and a week after surgery), and it will be at least 3 months post surgery before I'm back to normal.
The good news/bad news is that I am approved to ride the recumbent bike and only the recumbent bike at the gym for the near future. The doc doesn't want me doing anything where I could trip and fall until probably 6 weeks post-op so no running, walking, elliptical or real bike for quite a long time. Being inactive this week has driven me NUTS! As you all know, I'm a very active person. Being slothful has made me moody and depressed. Not only am I concerned about gaining weight because I'm not working out six days a week, but I can't handle the moodiness. I need my endorphins hit!
I'll keep you all updated.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Always wear clean underware, you never know when you will have to go to the emergency room
and you really don't want to go to the ER when you aren't wearing any at all. On Sunday afternoon, I had my first bike crash. I got distracted, was slightly off course, overcompensated and panicked causing a crash. I landed on my face and elbow. Oddly enough, I hadn't been listening to my ipod (i almost always do when biking) and I hadn't brought my cell phone (I always do). Luckily, "Brother Tim" came along (God was watching out for me), asked me if I was alright and then called 911. He stayed with me in the 100 degree heat while we waited for the ambulance to find us. He got me to sit in the shade and fed me water as I moaned and cursed under my breathe (I'm still feeling bad about all the "god damnits" he had to hear.
10 hours later, I left the hospital with a "fractured radial head" (broken elbow), high on morphine, with a cast, sling and prescription for Oxycontin. The hospital staff was fantastic (I feel terrible for screaming during the ex rays and needing to be held down) even if they couldn't decide if I needed surgery so kept me there hungry and thirsty extra long. After seeing a specialist today, I know its "s really bad fracture" and we are taking a wait and see approach. He's not sure that he can help me with surgery, but he knows he can make it worse. So it looks like no running, biking or rock climbing for me for at least a couple months.
Typing is difficult cause I can only use my left hand so i may not write much for the next couple months. Just thought you all would want to know what's up.
10 hours later, I left the hospital with a "fractured radial head" (broken elbow), high on morphine, with a cast, sling and prescription for Oxycontin. The hospital staff was fantastic (I feel terrible for screaming during the ex rays and needing to be held down) even if they couldn't decide if I needed surgery so kept me there hungry and thirsty extra long. After seeing a specialist today, I know its "s really bad fracture" and we are taking a wait and see approach. He's not sure that he can help me with surgery, but he knows he can make it worse. So it looks like no running, biking or rock climbing for me for at least a couple months.
Typing is difficult cause I can only use my left hand so i may not write much for the next couple months. Just thought you all would want to know what's up.
Monday, July 30, 2007
blisters and bikini waxes
Its amazing what we women put up with for the sake of beauty. Right now, my big complaints are blisters and bikini waxes.
On Saturday night, I went out with some friends to party like rock stars as part of a bachelorette party. I didn't manage the rock star part so well because of my g-d shoes. The traffic downtown was terrible because of the Cardinals game, so I ended up parking my car on the street (ok, so I drove and I wasn't planning on partying too much anyway, but regardless this blister sucks) about 10 blocks from the bar (maybe further). One of the girls in my car, desperately had to pee so we basically ran all the way to the bar. When I got there my foot hurt - running 8 blocks in strappy silver stilettos is not a good idea. I looked hot, but it hurt to stand, move, be. A humongous blister had already both formed and popped. I ended up taking a cab back to my car (um, yeah, really couldn't walk that far and I was leaving alone and that's just not safe) earlier than I would have like (stayed out till 12:30ish).
The next day, my blister killed me as I put on my climbing shoes, but then it was ok. I tried those super blister bandaids, but even those won't stay on cause of the location of this particular blister. I can't wear strappy heals, and even my full on shoes hurt terrible. Those strappy silver stilettos were not worth this much pain. Now, I can't even go running, but not cause of a running blister, no...cause of stupid cute shoes.
Tonight I'm getting a bikini wax. Its been months for me, and I sort of feel like I'm gonna have to apologize to the waxer for not coming in sooner. Its gonna hurt like hell, but again its all of beauty. Why is this our societies standard that a girl has got to groom down there? What's up with that? I suppose I could fight it, but like shaving my legs, ultimately it makes me more comfortable. I know I'll enjoy long bike rides far more post wax than I would right now...but that doesn't mean I enjoy the process. Ug.
On Saturday night, I went out with some friends to party like rock stars as part of a bachelorette party. I didn't manage the rock star part so well because of my g-d shoes. The traffic downtown was terrible because of the Cardinals game, so I ended up parking my car on the street (ok, so I drove and I wasn't planning on partying too much anyway, but regardless this blister sucks) about 10 blocks from the bar (maybe further). One of the girls in my car, desperately had to pee so we basically ran all the way to the bar. When I got there my foot hurt - running 8 blocks in strappy silver stilettos is not a good idea. I looked hot, but it hurt to stand, move, be. A humongous blister had already both formed and popped. I ended up taking a cab back to my car (um, yeah, really couldn't walk that far and I was leaving alone and that's just not safe) earlier than I would have like (stayed out till 12:30ish).
The next day, my blister killed me as I put on my climbing shoes, but then it was ok. I tried those super blister bandaids, but even those won't stay on cause of the location of this particular blister. I can't wear strappy heals, and even my full on shoes hurt terrible. Those strappy silver stilettos were not worth this much pain. Now, I can't even go running, but not cause of a running blister, no...cause of stupid cute shoes.
Tonight I'm getting a bikini wax. Its been months for me, and I sort of feel like I'm gonna have to apologize to the waxer for not coming in sooner. Its gonna hurt like hell, but again its all of beauty. Why is this our societies standard that a girl has got to groom down there? What's up with that? I suppose I could fight it, but like shaving my legs, ultimately it makes me more comfortable. I know I'll enjoy long bike rides far more post wax than I would right now...but that doesn't mean I enjoy the process. Ug.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
athletic and fit
I know I don't have the body type of your typical "athletic and fit" person, but I have to admit I'm always a little surprised at the reaction of fitness people to my abilities (although in all cases its not the trainers who are surprised, but the person at the front desk). Recently I experienced this twice (not to mention the guy I wanted to slap when I joined 24 hour fitness last year who kept saying "when you start a fitness routine..." - screw yourself buddy, I work out at least 5 days a week; I ain't just starting nothing).
A couple weeks ago, I decided to go to my first boxing class at this gym that does exclusively boxing. While I'd never done boxing or kickboxing before, my friend who trained with me for much of the half marathon invited me cause she knew the instructor and thought I would really enjoy it. I did love the class; it was hard, and my entire core hurt for two days, but it was completely manageable for me. What I particularly enjoyed was the guy at the front desk though. When I walk in saying I want to do the class, he looks at me and asks, "Well, what's your fitness level? You need to be really in shape for that class." I respond that I work out about five days a week. He still looks sceptical until I mention the fact that I ran the half marathon in April - then he responds with "well, then you should be fine." I love the scepticism.
Last night I went to a different gym on a free five day pass to take a kickboxing class with the same teacher. I'm thinking of joining this other gym cause it offers a bunch of class (kickboxing, dance, spinning, yoga, Pilate's) that are all included in the membership. The only problem is the gym is SUPER expensive, and I don't need to add to my monthly payments right now. The class went great, I learned proper kicking technique, and sweated so much that it got in my eyes, but again I found the front desk person funny. Afterward, I was talking to the membership lady when the class's instructor came up to talk to me about it - congratulating me on jumping right in to that class. The membership lady had just finished describing the classes and mentioned the number system and how the higher numbers were hard and I might not want to jump right in to those. When she heard the instructor's complements, she then said, well, if you can jump right into that class, you can pretty much handle anything we've got.
Just makes me wonder - do fitness people (not trainers - people who work at gyms) expect that the only fit people are the ultra thin muscular kind? Am I judged as fat, lazy, and unfit just because I carry an extra ten pounds around? I also think its funny that actual trainers never seem surprised by my abilities. They don't start me too easy, but push me ahead. They never tell me they don't think I can handle their class, they just smile invitingly and teach me what to do. I hate that the average member of the public sees something different than the truth - I am athletic and fit, even if I don't look like it!
A couple weeks ago, I decided to go to my first boxing class at this gym that does exclusively boxing. While I'd never done boxing or kickboxing before, my friend who trained with me for much of the half marathon invited me cause she knew the instructor and thought I would really enjoy it. I did love the class; it was hard, and my entire core hurt for two days, but it was completely manageable for me. What I particularly enjoyed was the guy at the front desk though. When I walk in saying I want to do the class, he looks at me and asks, "Well, what's your fitness level? You need to be really in shape for that class." I respond that I work out about five days a week. He still looks sceptical until I mention the fact that I ran the half marathon in April - then he responds with "well, then you should be fine." I love the scepticism.
Last night I went to a different gym on a free five day pass to take a kickboxing class with the same teacher. I'm thinking of joining this other gym cause it offers a bunch of class (kickboxing, dance, spinning, yoga, Pilate's) that are all included in the membership. The only problem is the gym is SUPER expensive, and I don't need to add to my monthly payments right now. The class went great, I learned proper kicking technique, and sweated so much that it got in my eyes, but again I found the front desk person funny. Afterward, I was talking to the membership lady when the class's instructor came up to talk to me about it - congratulating me on jumping right in to that class. The membership lady had just finished describing the classes and mentioned the number system and how the higher numbers were hard and I might not want to jump right in to those. When she heard the instructor's complements, she then said, well, if you can jump right into that class, you can pretty much handle anything we've got.
Just makes me wonder - do fitness people (not trainers - people who work at gyms) expect that the only fit people are the ultra thin muscular kind? Am I judged as fat, lazy, and unfit just because I carry an extra ten pounds around? I also think its funny that actual trainers never seem surprised by my abilities. They don't start me too easy, but push me ahead. They never tell me they don't think I can handle their class, they just smile invitingly and teach me what to do. I hate that the average member of the public sees something different than the truth - I am athletic and fit, even if I don't look like it!
Monday, July 23, 2007
disconnect
Until recently, reading an article like this one wouldn't even have crossed my mind. I've always been one of those disconnected people. No one in my family has ever served in the military (my father had a job deferment in Vietnam and I'm still unclear about my grandfather and WWII - I think I was told something about flat feet), and it generally hasn't been something that felt relevant to my daily life. Just last week, I actually had a conversation with one of my friends about my lack of understanding. Even after my changing perspective, I stand by what I said to my friend - I still can't comprehend people who join the military to pay for college. Its too hard and its not enough money. I stand by my belief that I can only really understand joining the military for more - for a love of country, for a belief that its something that you have to do, to become the person you want to be.
I don't think money alone should ever be the enticement to join, and yet, it seems so often that must be a driving force. Why else would the vast majority of people who are enlisting be from lower class families? Why the class distinction? Are poorer people more patriotic or do they just have less options? Its difficult for me to understand how a 15K signing bonus entices people to enlist/re-enlist, but I think that might be another example of my disconnect. I've got 80K in student loan debt and pay my loan provider about $500 a month. I believe that this debt is worth it, and never even considered not going to law school due to costs. But, I come from an upper-middle/upper class background. $10,000 is a lot of money to me, but not so much money that I would ever base a decision on that (as exemplified by my current job choice over the other options that I had). I can't really comprehend what it would be like for $10,000 to be enough money to change your life.
I think that's possibly just as great of a disconnect as the one talked about in that article. While I think its not healthy for our Country, that civilians like me can't even remotely relate to those serving in the military, I also think its terribly unhealthy that wealthy folks, like me, can't relate to those at the bottom of the income bracket.
I don't think money alone should ever be the enticement to join, and yet, it seems so often that must be a driving force. Why else would the vast majority of people who are enlisting be from lower class families? Why the class distinction? Are poorer people more patriotic or do they just have less options? Its difficult for me to understand how a 15K signing bonus entices people to enlist/re-enlist, but I think that might be another example of my disconnect. I've got 80K in student loan debt and pay my loan provider about $500 a month. I believe that this debt is worth it, and never even considered not going to law school due to costs. But, I come from an upper-middle/upper class background. $10,000 is a lot of money to me, but not so much money that I would ever base a decision on that (as exemplified by my current job choice over the other options that I had). I can't really comprehend what it would be like for $10,000 to be enough money to change your life.
I think that's possibly just as great of a disconnect as the one talked about in that article. While I think its not healthy for our Country, that civilians like me can't even remotely relate to those serving in the military, I also think its terribly unhealthy that wealthy folks, like me, can't relate to those at the bottom of the income bracket.
Friday, July 20, 2007
:-P
I've been instructed to blog, but really I have nothing much I care to share on here going on these days. I got a letter back from the Marine boy, but I'm not sharing. Work is slow. I'm running on a treadmill two days a week cause its too hot and humid here to run outside. I'm seeing Ani DiFranco tonight at a free concert. I made cookies last night. I only ate two. That's it. That's my exciting life. Can't wait for the joy that will be reading Harry Potter tonight at midnight.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
breaking up is hard to do
Don't worry, I'm not speaking of boy breaking up (although I am TERRIBLE at that as well), I'm instead speaking of a "running partner" breakup that I haven't done yet. I put "running partner" in quotes because, well, she hasn't been much of one. We have a standing agreement that I will drive over to her apartment building and meet her at 6:20 in the morning for a 40 minute run in the park, 2 days a week. This is not for my benefit. I have no trouble getting myself to workout 5 days a week (though if left to my own devices, this might involve more biking and elliptical machines in the summer and less running). The timing also isn't for my benefit - I could leave my apartment at 7:45 and still have plenty of time for a 45 minute run. I don't leave my apartment in the morning until 8:15/8:20, and I just hop in the shower and grab some breakfast post run. So, I've been getting up 40 minutes early, driving over to her place, and waiting for her to come down two days a week (unless she kindly calls or texts ahead to tell me not to meet her).
Unfortunately, I'm getting annoyed. At least one day a week, she cancels. Either by calling ahead or just not showing up when I'm waiting around outside her building (I wait until 6:30, if she's not there, I go run by myself). This week she texted ahead to cancel on Tuesday, and then just didn't show up this morning. Now, the texting or calling ahead is better than just not showing up, but still not great. I still wake up early and then have to check my phone. Even if I go back to sleep, its not the same as sleeping in until my regular wake up time (I normally end up sort of going back to sleep and then working out after work or at lunch in the gym at work). I'm annoyed, but I don't know how to end this running relationship.
At first, I tried to be understanding because I know she has a history of insomnia. If she can't fall asleep until 3 A.M., I can totally understand why she would need to sleep in as late as possible. Then she broke up with her boyfriend, this process took a couple weeks, with her staying up very very late talking to him on the phone. I tried to be understanding and didn't complain about her missing the runs, but here's the thing...I'm not that understanding, its still pissed me off. And now, I'm sure she's depressed about the breakup and still has insomnia issues, but that's not my problem.
Plus, while she is a lovely friend and I enjoy spending time with her, she doesn't help me much with my runs. She's slightly faster than me in the beginning, but then can't keep up as we hit mile 3 or so. Plus, she doesn't talk while running - she's a total headphones girl. I have no beef with running with headphones. I do it myself when I'm running alone or on a treadmill (yes, I know its not safe while running outdoors, but my love for running just isn't strong enough to allow me to do it without the benefit of music). Still, when I run with others, I try to carry on a conversation. It helps the time pass and allows me to avoid hating every playlist on my ipod. I ran the entire half marathon without music, as well as all of my long runs where I had company. So, running with her is quite a bit like running alone. I've only agreed to meet her in the morning to help motivate her and that's obviously not working.
The question is - how do I end it? I don't want to kick her while she's down, but I don't think I can put up with a couple more weeks of this.
Unfortunately, I'm getting annoyed. At least one day a week, she cancels. Either by calling ahead or just not showing up when I'm waiting around outside her building (I wait until 6:30, if she's not there, I go run by myself). This week she texted ahead to cancel on Tuesday, and then just didn't show up this morning. Now, the texting or calling ahead is better than just not showing up, but still not great. I still wake up early and then have to check my phone. Even if I go back to sleep, its not the same as sleeping in until my regular wake up time (I normally end up sort of going back to sleep and then working out after work or at lunch in the gym at work). I'm annoyed, but I don't know how to end this running relationship.
At first, I tried to be understanding because I know she has a history of insomnia. If she can't fall asleep until 3 A.M., I can totally understand why she would need to sleep in as late as possible. Then she broke up with her boyfriend, this process took a couple weeks, with her staying up very very late talking to him on the phone. I tried to be understanding and didn't complain about her missing the runs, but here's the thing...I'm not that understanding, its still pissed me off. And now, I'm sure she's depressed about the breakup and still has insomnia issues, but that's not my problem.
Plus, while she is a lovely friend and I enjoy spending time with her, she doesn't help me much with my runs. She's slightly faster than me in the beginning, but then can't keep up as we hit mile 3 or so. Plus, she doesn't talk while running - she's a total headphones girl. I have no beef with running with headphones. I do it myself when I'm running alone or on a treadmill (yes, I know its not safe while running outdoors, but my love for running just isn't strong enough to allow me to do it without the benefit of music). Still, when I run with others, I try to carry on a conversation. It helps the time pass and allows me to avoid hating every playlist on my ipod. I ran the entire half marathon without music, as well as all of my long runs where I had company. So, running with her is quite a bit like running alone. I've only agreed to meet her in the morning to help motivate her and that's obviously not working.
The question is - how do I end it? I don't want to kick her while she's down, but I don't think I can put up with a couple more weeks of this.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Thanks for calling
On my birthday I got a rather unexpected phone call. The first three digits after the area code were from the same area as where I grew up, and so, I answered thinking perhaps it was someone I knew, but didn't recognize the phone number. In response to my "hello?..." I heard a rather nervous sounding woman introduce herself, "Hi, this is Sally Momwithlonglastname*. You went on a couple of dates with my son Marine boy*." Now I recognized her name immediately, and these are the immediate thoughts that popped into my head - God, I hope he's not dead or something...if he is, why the hell would she call me...ummm, why they hell is she calling me...we went out two months ago and I never heard from him again after I let him sleep over at my place...Wait...why is she calling me?
She then explained that Marine Boy had been too busy to call me before heading off to boot camp and had sent her a letter asking her to call me on his cell phone to give me his address at boot camp. She wrote back that she had turned off his cell phone and so couldn't call me with it (apparently she's not that techno savie and didn't realize that while she couldn't use the phone to dial my number, it probably still worked to turn it on and find my number in the address book, but I digress). He then wrote back telling her that he remembered that I lived across the street from a guy he went to high school with, and so, she called my neighbors who she probably hadn't spoken to since he was a sophomore in high school (he spent his last two years of high school out of state). My neighbor then called my parent's house (ummm, I don't live there anymore) and told my mom that his mom would be calling to get my phone number, that they are normal/good people, and that he's not stalking me or anything. Then his mom calls my mom, who gives her my phone number and his mom then proceeds to call me (I can't MAKE this shit up). I get his address at boot camp and then hang up. After describing this bizarro scenario to one of my co-workers, my phone rings again...its Ms. Momwithlonglastname again calling to tell me that if I write to him I should make sure not to put anything other than addresses on the outside of the envelope cause apparently that would cause Marine boy to have to do extra push ups or something at boot camp.
I ended up writing him a letter, but I didn't really know what to say. I mean, what do you say to someone who you haven't spoken to in 2 months, didn't call you after your last date, and you only went out with 2 times? I settled for describing my new apartment and the bike ride I had taken on the 4th.
When I described the whole situation to my friends at my birthday celebration, I was told what the proper response would have been - an envelope with hearts and flowers and perfume all over it with a letter inside that said, "Thanks for calling..." I don't think I could be that evil;-) My roommate has jokingly told me that if his mom went through all that trouble to reach me (and man, she really did), we are destined to get married...hmmm...I'm laughing a bit in my cubicle right now thinking about that one.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
She then explained that Marine Boy had been too busy to call me before heading off to boot camp and had sent her a letter asking her to call me on his cell phone to give me his address at boot camp. She wrote back that she had turned off his cell phone and so couldn't call me with it (apparently she's not that techno savie and didn't realize that while she couldn't use the phone to dial my number, it probably still worked to turn it on and find my number in the address book, but I digress). He then wrote back telling her that he remembered that I lived across the street from a guy he went to high school with, and so, she called my neighbors who she probably hadn't spoken to since he was a sophomore in high school (he spent his last two years of high school out of state). My neighbor then called my parent's house (ummm, I don't live there anymore) and told my mom that his mom would be calling to get my phone number, that they are normal/good people, and that he's not stalking me or anything. Then his mom calls my mom, who gives her my phone number and his mom then proceeds to call me (I can't MAKE this shit up). I get his address at boot camp and then hang up. After describing this bizarro scenario to one of my co-workers, my phone rings again...its Ms. Momwithlonglastname again calling to tell me that if I write to him I should make sure not to put anything other than addresses on the outside of the envelope cause apparently that would cause Marine boy to have to do extra push ups or something at boot camp.
I ended up writing him a letter, but I didn't really know what to say. I mean, what do you say to someone who you haven't spoken to in 2 months, didn't call you after your last date, and you only went out with 2 times? I settled for describing my new apartment and the bike ride I had taken on the 4th.
When I described the whole situation to my friends at my birthday celebration, I was told what the proper response would have been - an envelope with hearts and flowers and perfume all over it with a letter inside that said, "Thanks for calling..." I don't think I could be that evil;-) My roommate has jokingly told me that if his mom went through all that trouble to reach me (and man, she really did), we are destined to get married...hmmm...I'm laughing a bit in my cubicle right now thinking about that one.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Monday, July 02, 2007
It looks like a dude's
I've recently been told, by more than one person, that the inside of my refridgerator looks like it belongs to a guy. We have eggs, (soy) milk, two kinds of juice, a couple things of mustard, ketchup, cheese, butter, and beer that you can see when you open it up. The veggie drawer is now full of wonderful things like jicama, beets, mushroom, mixed field greens, homegrown tomatoes, and onions, but you can't really see any of that without opening the drawer. Apparently, this comment (as both speakers have indicated) was in part inspired my our near complete lack of salad dressing. I must admit, that like most girls, in the past, I had bottles and bottles of salad dressing. I had light italian, fat free raspberry vinegerette, light ranch, fat free ranch, thousand island, etc. Now, we have one lonely bottle purchased by my roommate. These days I don't buy salad dressing. For me ranch dressing is a bit of a binge food - mmm ranch on practically anything - and so I don't keep it in the house.
And oil and vineger dressings - well, those I can make myself. I'd rather make up a small batch of my special balsamic dressing than keep a big bottle of acceptable but uninteresting italian dressing ready for those occassions when I want it (ummm almost never). This morning, after chopping up a salad with jicama (a surprising favorite of mine), beets, tomatoes, and blue cheese, I mixed up a tiny container of my special dressing - hands down it beats any store bought dressing: balsamic vineger, olive oil, sugar, and whole grain mustard. That's it and its so wonderful. So, now, for lunch, I'm eating a beautifully pink tinged salad with the crunch of jicama, the odd sweetness of beets, the bright zing of balsamic balanced out by the stinky mild flavor of the blue cheese.
After an excruciating weekend, its good to be eating lunch at work today.
And oil and vineger dressings - well, those I can make myself. I'd rather make up a small batch of my special balsamic dressing than keep a big bottle of acceptable but uninteresting italian dressing ready for those occassions when I want it (ummm almost never). This morning, after chopping up a salad with jicama (a surprising favorite of mine), beets, tomatoes, and blue cheese, I mixed up a tiny container of my special dressing - hands down it beats any store bought dressing: balsamic vineger, olive oil, sugar, and whole grain mustard. That's it and its so wonderful. So, now, for lunch, I'm eating a beautifully pink tinged salad with the crunch of jicama, the odd sweetness of beets, the bright zing of balsamic balanced out by the stinky mild flavor of the blue cheese.
After an excruciating weekend, its good to be eating lunch at work today.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Cherries
For years, I loved Bing Cherries. As a child, they were my most favorite food. I thought that they were special - just for me. They only came into season for a few weeks before my birthday and then, a week or so later, like magic, they were gone. I remember sitting on the floor in front of my parent's couch watching DuckTales and eating cherry after cherry out of the thin plastic bag. I would eat until I was sick. I love the firm ripe deep red ones and would savor the sweet juice as I ate each one. I would leave even most slightly mushy cherries behind - they weren't worth my effort and ruined the wonderful perfection of the other cherries. I really loved Bing cherries.
Then, two years ago, I discovered Rainier cherries, and suddenly the Bings seemed like a cheap imitation. Everything about the Rainiers is better. They are sweeter without being too sweet; they are firmer; they are perfect even when bruised and blemished; they taste like heaven with blue cheese and honey. The only problem with them is the price. It hurts to spend $6.99 a pound for fruit, but what can you do when its true love and its only available for a few short weeks each summer?
Last winter I tried to get my cherry fix with something that can't remotely live up to either of those fresh varieties - frozen sweet cherries. While far better than canned, nothing about them compares to the sensation of popping a a firm ripe cherry in your mouth and scraping the pit clean with your teeth. They serve a purpose, but frozen cherries only make me long for summer and its bounty.
I'm so glad summer is here.
Then, two years ago, I discovered Rainier cherries, and suddenly the Bings seemed like a cheap imitation. Everything about the Rainiers is better. They are sweeter without being too sweet; they are firmer; they are perfect even when bruised and blemished; they taste like heaven with blue cheese and honey. The only problem with them is the price. It hurts to spend $6.99 a pound for fruit, but what can you do when its true love and its only available for a few short weeks each summer?
Last winter I tried to get my cherry fix with something that can't remotely live up to either of those fresh varieties - frozen sweet cherries. While far better than canned, nothing about them compares to the sensation of popping a a firm ripe cherry in your mouth and scraping the pit clean with your teeth. They serve a purpose, but frozen cherries only make me long for summer and its bounty.
I'm so glad summer is here.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Opinions
One of my dear friends said something last night that really hurt me. It hurt me because I couldn't understand why she would think that about me, how she had formed that opinion about me, as someone who knows me so well. Its wasn't a big thing, and I'm not even sure what she meant by it. It left me a little bit hurt and a little bit surprised and quite frankly a little bit angry. It also made me wonder what sort of image I put off about myself.
I guess I should tell you want the comment was - "I can't really see you enjoying life in Colorado" - after I had just stated my desire to live there at some point in time. While I admit that I'm not really the North Face Fleece wearing type (well, I own one and wear it on weekends in the winter). I enjoy nice clothes. I like wearing heals, and I guess I don't do drugs. But, I don't really see why any of that would make her come to that conclusion. As I have discussed her, I'm not a beach person (I could never visit another beach again and probably not be all that sad about it), and I love the mountains and outdoors. I love spending weekends biking or hiking or running outside. I love watching leaves change, catching a deer unaware as I head down a path, or playing in the mounds of freshly fallen snow.
I don't know why I let this opinion get to me so much. This friend's opinions really do matter to me for some unknown reason. As a thirteen year old, singing along to 4 Non Blondes' What's Up, I remember be angered by her comment that I shouldn't sing that song because I didn't have the voice for it. I actually felt vindicated from that comment when my college a cappella group chose me to sing the solo on that very same song. Some might say that I have a memory like an elephants, but I don't really. Its more that her opinions and minor comments can wound me more than almost anyone else's. I don't know why that is. Its so strange because I've sort of grown as a person to the point where most of the time I don't give a damn about what others think about me, but for some reason that's just not true with her (or my mother for that matter). Why do some people's opinions matter more?
I guess I should tell you want the comment was - "I can't really see you enjoying life in Colorado" - after I had just stated my desire to live there at some point in time. While I admit that I'm not really the North Face Fleece wearing type (well, I own one and wear it on weekends in the winter). I enjoy nice clothes. I like wearing heals, and I guess I don't do drugs. But, I don't really see why any of that would make her come to that conclusion. As I have discussed her, I'm not a beach person (I could never visit another beach again and probably not be all that sad about it), and I love the mountains and outdoors. I love spending weekends biking or hiking or running outside. I love watching leaves change, catching a deer unaware as I head down a path, or playing in the mounds of freshly fallen snow.
I don't know why I let this opinion get to me so much. This friend's opinions really do matter to me for some unknown reason. As a thirteen year old, singing along to 4 Non Blondes' What's Up, I remember be angered by her comment that I shouldn't sing that song because I didn't have the voice for it. I actually felt vindicated from that comment when my college a cappella group chose me to sing the solo on that very same song. Some might say that I have a memory like an elephants, but I don't really. Its more that her opinions and minor comments can wound me more than almost anyone else's. I don't know why that is. Its so strange because I've sort of grown as a person to the point where most of the time I don't give a damn about what others think about me, but for some reason that's just not true with her (or my mother for that matter). Why do some people's opinions matter more?
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Food
I don't write about food much on here. Its not that food isn't important to me - in fact, I would actually say that I have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with food. Its more that my experiences with food seem to me to either be embarrassing (hello eating an entire box of weight watchers giant fudge bars in one sitting) or boring (dinner often consists of a green vegetable, whole wheat pasta, garlic, and olive oil). I think that's part of the problem. I love food and I love eating, but so often I'm fighting myself over these loves. I'm feeling guilty about the dessert I shared with a friend last night, or sneakily gobbling down an entire bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn in my car (both things happened last weekend). I need to give up guilt. I need to stop regarding foods as good or bad. I need to accept that sometimes I eat for reasons that have nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with emotion. Food is not the enemy. Since I already think about food far too much, I want to revel in the tastes and textures, in the scents and flavors.
Today's lunch embodies what I want to feel about food and the kind of food I particularly enjoy putting in my body. I've been excited about this lunch since I thought of it yesterday afternoon. I was sad yesterday when I realized I couldn't have it for dinner cause I already had plans to go out. I convinced myself to go on my run this morning instead of going back to bed when my running partner didn't show up by reminding myself that if I went running I would have time post-run to create this perfect meal (and if I had gone back to sleep I certainly would have overslept and been unable to make it).
Today's lunch tastes of the sweetness of fresh home grown tomatoes, the tangy crispness of chopped green bell peppers, the slightly bitter zing of diced white onions, and the mellow nutiness of olive oil. It tastes fresh and clean. It uses food from my fridge that had sunk to the bottom of my refridgerator drawer and begun to shrivel, but tastes as though I had purchased the produce at the farmers market yesterday. Its food that fills me up and leaves me satisified, yet without a trace of guilt. It nurishes my body and soul.
My lunch is simple - its just couscous with diced tomatoes, onions, green pepper, olive oil, and a tad of garlic. Its just a tabouleh salad. I didn't measure anything, I just boiled some water, threw in some couscous and began chopping. I'll probably never make another salad just like it again. I have no idea how much olive oil or salt I used, and I'll probably stink to the high heavens for the entire afternoon (garlic, check, onions, check). For all I know, it could be horrible for me due to the amount of olive oil, but this is how I want to eat. The reverence that I felt as I dined on this simple salad is how I want to feel about food.
I'm tired of fighting myself over food. I'm tired of feeling guilty. So here's what I want to do - eat foods that satisfy me. Think about what I'm putting in my mouth and why. I want to stop worrying about the amount of olive oil in the salad, and recognize that its just food. Its tomatoes and green peppers and onions and couscous. Its nutrious and healthy. It tastes good. I dwell on the joy in eating and stop being consumed by a fear of food.
To some extent, I've been living with this mindset since the half marathon. I eat what I want to eat. I try to eat at least 5 servings of whole fruit and veggies a day, not because I should, but because it makes me feel good. My body feels better when I do that. I've lost the weight I gained at the end of the half, and in fact, last week (before the striking of PMS bloating), I was back down to 155. If I can eat as I please and maintain my weight, I think I'm ok with maintaining a weight that is slightly higher than is considered "healthy."
Today's lunch embodies what I want to feel about food and the kind of food I particularly enjoy putting in my body. I've been excited about this lunch since I thought of it yesterday afternoon. I was sad yesterday when I realized I couldn't have it for dinner cause I already had plans to go out. I convinced myself to go on my run this morning instead of going back to bed when my running partner didn't show up by reminding myself that if I went running I would have time post-run to create this perfect meal (and if I had gone back to sleep I certainly would have overslept and been unable to make it).
Today's lunch tastes of the sweetness of fresh home grown tomatoes, the tangy crispness of chopped green bell peppers, the slightly bitter zing of diced white onions, and the mellow nutiness of olive oil. It tastes fresh and clean. It uses food from my fridge that had sunk to the bottom of my refridgerator drawer and begun to shrivel, but tastes as though I had purchased the produce at the farmers market yesterday. Its food that fills me up and leaves me satisified, yet without a trace of guilt. It nurishes my body and soul.
My lunch is simple - its just couscous with diced tomatoes, onions, green pepper, olive oil, and a tad of garlic. Its just a tabouleh salad. I didn't measure anything, I just boiled some water, threw in some couscous and began chopping. I'll probably never make another salad just like it again. I have no idea how much olive oil or salt I used, and I'll probably stink to the high heavens for the entire afternoon (garlic, check, onions, check). For all I know, it could be horrible for me due to the amount of olive oil, but this is how I want to eat. The reverence that I felt as I dined on this simple salad is how I want to feel about food.
I'm tired of fighting myself over food. I'm tired of feeling guilty. So here's what I want to do - eat foods that satisfy me. Think about what I'm putting in my mouth and why. I want to stop worrying about the amount of olive oil in the salad, and recognize that its just food. Its tomatoes and green peppers and onions and couscous. Its nutrious and healthy. It tastes good. I dwell on the joy in eating and stop being consumed by a fear of food.
To some extent, I've been living with this mindset since the half marathon. I eat what I want to eat. I try to eat at least 5 servings of whole fruit and veggies a day, not because I should, but because it makes me feel good. My body feels better when I do that. I've lost the weight I gained at the end of the half, and in fact, last week (before the striking of PMS bloating), I was back down to 155. If I can eat as I please and maintain my weight, I think I'm ok with maintaining a weight that is slightly higher than is considered "healthy."
Thursday, June 21, 2007
pseudo-date
Tomorrow night I'm going to dinner and out dancing with a guy who is pretty damn awesome. He's smart and funny and passionate and close to his family and friends with my friends. I've known him since high school, and he's in town on a break from working on his Ph.D. in Chemistry. But is it a date? Chemistry boy will probably pay for dinner cause he's that kind of guy. He's picking me up at my apartment at six and there will be lots of dancing the night away. He's straight. He had invited me to go to a wedding with him, but I had to pass because I'll be at a different wedding that night. With most other guys in this situation I would think - DATE - but with him, well, I'm not sure.
He came over to the apartment last night, nominally to see the roommate, but ended up hanging out with me instead. In passing, he mentioned that he had been telling his parents about me. Does this lead more to the date theory? Oh, and he called me his dancing partner if that influences the determination. I've never kissed this guy (and honestly the attraction thing is maybe the problem - nicest guy ever, but I've never thought that I wanted to jump him). So, I guess we will find out if its a date or not tomorrow night ;-)
He came over to the apartment last night, nominally to see the roommate, but ended up hanging out with me instead. In passing, he mentioned that he had been telling his parents about me. Does this lead more to the date theory? Oh, and he called me his dancing partner if that influences the determination. I've never kissed this guy (and honestly the attraction thing is maybe the problem - nicest guy ever, but I've never thought that I wanted to jump him). So, I guess we will find out if its a date or not tomorrow night ;-)
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
half again?
So, I was talking with my friend Matt today, and he asked if I was going to run the Lewis & Clark half marathon in September. L&C is the other major half marathon in St. Louis - in fact, its where Dean Karnazes' 50, 50, 50 started last year. I hadn't really thought about whether I would do it or not until Matt's question. And now, I don't know:
Pros:
- I want to run another half marathon someday
- Its convenient (I don't have to travel)
- Matt will probably run it too (and in under 2 hours)
- Being in training makes me feel good about myself (physically and mentally)
- It would keep me on a workout schedule
- I've already written the daily mileage in my day planner
Cons:
- I hate running in heat
- I like sleeping in on weekends
- I've been looking forward to having weekends for long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool
- I was so bored with running by the time I finished training for the St. Louis half that I just started running regularly again last week
- I hate running in heat
- I like running in the cold (even sub 30 degree weather with snow on the ground)
- I've already missed the first week of training (not that big a deal, training for the week calls for 13 total miles, and I was gonna run 10 or so anyway)
- Training would mess with my current agreement with a workout partner who would not be training
After this analysis, I think I am just gonna keep doing what I'm doing and not train. If what I'm doing ends up looking like training, then maybe I'll sign up for the race. Otherwise, I think I will enjoy long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool (while still getting in 5 or more workouts a week). I think I am more suited for spring racing rather than fall racing because of my very strong training weather preference. What do you all think?
Pros:
- I want to run another half marathon someday
- Its convenient (I don't have to travel)
- Matt will probably run it too (and in under 2 hours)
- Being in training makes me feel good about myself (physically and mentally)
- It would keep me on a workout schedule
- I've already written the daily mileage in my day planner
Cons:
- I hate running in heat
- I like sleeping in on weekends
- I've been looking forward to having weekends for long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool
- I was so bored with running by the time I finished training for the St. Louis half that I just started running regularly again last week
- I hate running in heat
- I like running in the cold (even sub 30 degree weather with snow on the ground)
- I've already missed the first week of training (not that big a deal, training for the week calls for 13 total miles, and I was gonna run 10 or so anyway)
- Training would mess with my current agreement with a workout partner who would not be training
After this analysis, I think I am just gonna keep doing what I'm doing and not train. If what I'm doing ends up looking like training, then maybe I'll sign up for the race. Otherwise, I think I will enjoy long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool (while still getting in 5 or more workouts a week). I think I am more suited for spring racing rather than fall racing because of my very strong training weather preference. What do you all think?
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