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.

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!

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.

:-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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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."

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 ;-)

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?

Movin' on Up

I’m almost completely moved in to the new apartment. YAY! I love the new apartment and my new furniture looks fabulous.

Yesterday was difficult. The only thing wrong with my apartment is that it’s a third floor walkup, which is only a problem when you are moving in and moving out. I moved two Toyota Camry loads myself, up all those stairs, and unpacked all the stuff. As you can see it was a lot of boxes.


Once I saw the apartment, I realized that my bedroom is a wee bit smaller than I had imagined it in my minds eye. My solution was to cancel the sleigh bed frame. My room looks very finished even without a bed frame, and its going to look even better once I get my curtains up (pretty much the only thing I have to do on my end of things).

Now, I need to buy a couple more things. First, I need groceries. Next, I need a chair. All I want is a simple wooden chair that looks good with my office furniture and fits in the corner when I’m not using it at my desk. Right now, there are only three places to sit in my apartment: my bed, the floor, and my balance ball. I’ve written this entire post while sitting on my balance ball – isn’t that supposed to be good for my abs or something?


The apartment itself is BEAUTIFUL. The kitchen is gorgeous! My bathroom is quite nice, but currently has a slight problem.

So, I started moving yesterday at 7 AM. I didn’t finish and sit down until around 10:30 pm. It was a long move. When I got done, all I wanted was a nice hot shower. First problem: the hot water wouldn’t go on in my shower. This problem was easy to solve – the water had been hooked up backwards, so I just set the water to cold and voila hot water. The next problem caused my bigger problem, the water was spraying in my face too much so I attempted to adjust the shower head so it was behind me more. Um, ouch, not a good idea. I push a bit too hard, and um, broke off my shower head. I got hit in the eye with an incredibly powerful stream of water. I got out of the shower, and used my future roommate’s bathroom instead. Luckily I had already cleaned her bathroom for her. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with the broken shower last night, and although I’m sure its fixable, I think that might be waiting for my dad to fix it for me (I’m too embarrassed to call the landlords about this one unless dad can’t fix it).

btw – I love my new bed.

on the run again

I have this big post written up on my laptop about my move last weekend with photos and everything, but internet access isn't cooperating at home so that post is going to have to wait until tomorrow (when the cable company comes out and sets things up again - lets just say there was a slight miscommunication with my landlord).

Anyway, there are two wonderful things that I am already enjoying about my move. The first is that my commute is literally 6 miles. When I leave my apartment at 8:10, I'm sitting in my desk chair at 8:30. There is no traffic and I'm not going to need to fill up my gas tank every 5 days. Its wonderful. I'm still inclined to try taking public transportation, but right now I'm reveling in the quick commute time. I'm not ready to have a 45 minute commute again just yet.

The second thing is the park. I now live about a half a block from Forest Park. I've written about the park before - its the place where I did my long training runs. I can't say enough great things about having it right outside my back door. I haven't been able to resist the lure of having it just steps away. Yesterday, even though I had Zumba after work, I got up early and went for a 40 minute run. Today, I drove to the other side of the park to meet a friend at 6:20 for another 40 minute run. While getting up at 6 isn't my favorite thing, I have found that I'm already awake so I might as well be running. 6 am in the park is almost a magic time. Its sunny and bright, but the weather isn't too hot yet. There are plenty of other runners on the path so you feel safe, but its not crazy busy like a nice Saturday morning. It has enough hills for diversity, but it has enough flat stretches that you don't get too worn out. Based on the way I live my life now, I never want to live anywhere else in St. Louis. I couldn't be happier.

note to self

Don't ride my bike in the evening without sunglasses, 2 reasons: (1) the sun is right in your eyes when you aren't in the shade and (2) bugs, lots of bugs. Bugs in your eyes suck.

big plans

This past weekend, I had big plans. I was supposed to ride my bicycle over 70 miles in two days. I was supposed to get a little packing done, but generally just enjoy spending two days in Southern Illinois. I was supposed to wear my new Fat Cyclist jersey (orange). None of that happened.

We had thunderstorms this weekend. Friday night, the power went out in the movie theater while I watched Knocked Up (eh, entertaining, but mediocre at best). Saturday, I still wasn't feeling 100% after the wonderful bought with the stomach flu during the week, and thunderstorms were projected for Southern Illinois. I'm a pansy and have no real desire to ride my bike in the middle of thunderstorms, or get picked up by the sag wagon and hang out with a bunch of random people I don't know in the rain. And it was supposed to rain all morning on Sunday. So, I didn't go. I stayed home. I did a lot of packing, reading of books, going to a housewarming party, getting a bad manicure (stupid not letting the polish dry between coats and hence having bubbling nails), and going to brunch. It was a wonderful weekend, even if I was a lazy behind and didn't do an ounce of exercise. It turned out Sunday was perfect in St. Louis (though who knows what things were like 150 miles away in Southern IL).

My only regret is that I didn't get to ride that morning and wear my brand spanking new jersey. Its super cool and I feel so connected to the world when I wear it. I know people have received those jerseys across the country and even throughout the world.

On that note, I have another post about his Pink jerseys. As I mentioned before, his wife is being treated for Cancer, and he has come out with a pink jersey. Twin Six, the company that is making the jerseys, isn't making any profit off the them. The profits are all being divided three ways: to pay for fatty's wife's cancer treatment, to pay for a trip to Italy for her after treatment, and to go to the Lance Armstrong Foundation. I've got to admit that though I have never met fatty and likely never will, I have begun to feel like I'm a part of that community and that I truly know him. I'm looking forward to getting my pink jersey and wearing it with pride.

bleagh!

Um, so, well, the reason my body hurt everywhere wasn't just muscle pain. I had the stomach flu. Missed two days of work. Ached all over. Curled up in a little ball in my bed. Generally hated life. Things are better now...lets just pray there is no rain this weekend in southern Illinois...

I hurt. Everywhere.

More honestly, I could say that I hurt everywhere below my chin. My head actually feels fine. The pain is a result of a fantastic weekend, though, so really its a good thing.

My exercise binge on Saturday has resulted in some somewhat lasting repercussions. My legs are still sore for the crazy amount of squats that we did in that sculpt and tone class. I don't think it helped much that I also did a spinning class and a two hour bike ride that day. Its not really suprising that every time I even looked at stairs the rest of the weekend, my legs screamed in protest. I had forgotten how much I hate squats, but man, I really do hate them. They make me hurt; they are boring; they make me want to hurt someone. Really nothing good about squats - other than the fact that they make my butt and legs look good ;-)

The rest of me hurts from the really fun activities of this weekend at the Lake of the Ozarks. I got driven around on a jet ski and well, I got thrown off 3 times (the driver claims only one of these times was intentional, but I have my doubts). It was a total blast, but my butt is SORE from slamming into the side of the jet ski on my way down. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time so it was totally worth the pain and the lost and gone forever sunglasses (at least they were cheap ones). My back, neck, shoulders, and arms are sore from the tubing. We got pulled around in a big tube and bounced around on the lake. I was holding on for my dear life, and again, a total blast. I felt like a teenager - part of that was probably going on the lake vacation with my parents and family friends, but part of it was just the joy of playing on the lake. It was great to relax in the sun, go for boat rides, play in the lake, and eat badly (oh, the best cookies and cakes, hot dogs and smores...mmmmmmm).

Weight: 161.5 (ug, but after my eating at the lake, not a big surprise - I gotta get this back under control!)

holy crap

I had a number of blog posts I wanted to write today. I went on somewhat of an exercise binge today (spinning class, sculpt and tone class, 2 hours of biking the Katy) and I've discovered a new favorite food (locally made all natural peanut butter), but I have to write about something else because I need my heart to stop racing.

My bike rack broke on the highway. Yep, BROKE! My bike was then being held onto my car by 1 strap and the cord I use to keep my front wheel from moving around. The back wheel had moved off the rack and WAS DRAGGING ON THE GROUND!! I don't have a cheap bike rack- nope - I recently spent over $100 to buy a Saris Bones-3 bike rack. Its supposed to be one of the top trunk racks on the market. One of the straps that holds the bike to the rack snapped right in half right where it joins to the rack. I want to cry - I love the bike rack, but now how can I trust it anymore (there are two other slots that aren't broken)? I need a good bike rack cause I have to drive a couple hundred miles next weekend for a bike trip I have planned.

I just never expected anything like this to happen. I expected if there was ever a problem with my bike rack it would be because I had installed something wrong. But, this wasn't my error. I have no idea how this could have happened, and I don't know what to do to prevent it. Luckily I was able to get off the highway and put the bike on a different slot without incident. Hearing the sound of that plastic snapping (and I heard it snap) is going to continue to freak me out for a while.

After I get back from the road trip next weekend, I think I will be sending the rack in to Saris. Its supposed to have a lifetime warranty - hopefully they will replace the part.

Vegan Pad Thai

So, when your lunch makes you want to vomit, you know you have done something terribly wrong. Lately, I've been attempting to eat vegetarian for most meals of the day - in part because it tends to be lower calorie and in part because its environmentally friendly. Anyway, I had purchased this vegan pad thai at whole foods cause I wanted a change for the wonderful Amy's Organic meals that I love so much. This was a mistake. The smell wasn't particularly appetizing, but I never let that rule my food decisions by itself. I've had some quite yummy frozen entrees that don't smell so great. What got me, though, was the taste and texture. Bleech! Luckilly the smell wasn't too strong so I didn't have to take the uneaten box out to the bathroom trash to dispose of the stink - it could just go in the regular trash can.

Then I found something else to eat in the cafeteria - yummy popcorn shrimp and french fries. Nothing about this was the healthiest option, but man was it good.

Weight: 161 (ug)