Gimme a moment, will ya?

Thumbs down for crappy race performance.

 You know those phases when everything isn't sucking big time and everything feels really exciting and new and you think to yourself "Rah rah rah! Life is so fun!" because you're curled up on a couch at 6am having some monumental conversation with someone and realizing you're not the only batshit crazy person out there? Or you're driving down the turnpike after a huge storm and the sun comes out and makes the road all glisten-y and you're all like "Wow! Life is so beautiful!"
You know those moments? Those moments that are kind of dumb when you analyze them but are really sweet at the time?

I'll just stop now before you vom over how warm and fuzzy this is.

What I actually wanted to say was, I haven't had those kinds of moments lately. I've been feeling kinda crumby. Remember that race I had to do a couple weeks ago? It was mis-er-able. I have never felt so awful while running EVER in my entire life. Not even that time at field hockey try outs in ninth grade when they told us we had to run a 7:30 mile to make the team and my previous best time was lingering around the 8:20 slow-poke region (so I felt like death and "sprinted" my ass off and ran it in 7:30 and made the team. phew. now excuse me while I ralph my diluted gatorade.)

Anyways, it was a million degrees the night of the race, the course was hilly (well, hilly in comparison to all of the 1% incline treadmill running I'd been doing) and not only did I NOT beat my previous 5k time from before I started my half training, I added about an hour and a half to it. (Exaggeration, but might as well be.) Oh oh, and I had stayed home sick from work the two days before because I legit felt like I had lymes disease (I don't) or something -- achy and more exhausted than I've ever been.

So the odds were against me and yadda yadda yadda but I finished and was really freaking bummed that I didn't run better. I pouted for awhile and drank 3 bottles of water and ate some pineapple and grimaced at all the medalers who finished the race in under 16 minutes. (WTF didn't anyone tell you crazy people it's 92 degrees outside with 50% humidity??) I was down. But then I got a sudden wave of relief because I realized that this race didn't really matter and thank God I messed up this one and not the big race. I know my eats were HORRIBLE the days before and I hadn't been training outside at ALL, so I immediately resolved to start working harder. Well actually I had another week of craptastic runs and eating habits and THEN I started being better. And I've made the following adjustments:
-Don't eat lots of crappy foods. They make running completely miserable.
-Go back to rotating my running surface: road/treadmill/trail/track
-Stop getting hung up on pace and run times. It puts me in a bad mood and when I'm in a bad mood I run even worse and then I get angry for running slow and get in an even worse mood and then I run slower and (do you see the vicious cycle?)

And do you know what? Earlier this morning after I finished my four mile easy run, I was walking down the street to my house and the sun was filtering through the leaves and the sky was really blue and I thought to myself, "Wow! Life is so beautiful!"

Thumbs up for a Mr. Rogers-style beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Sunday Confessional

Another confession: I'm afraid of riding real bikes, unless I'm at the beach. Cars are so aggressive!

1. I didn't go to spin class this week. My real confession? I'm actually all bent out of shape about it. (Literally, I can feel my gut forming as we speak.) I've totally become one of those people who's obsessed with going to spin class. I know. I make myself sick, too.

But in all seriousness, until a couple months ago I was terrified of spinning because it just seemed so INTENSE and people who love spinning, reallly love spinning and I didn't want to be that awkward person huffing and puffing in the corner. But then I got into a fitness rut and decided to drag my friend along just to try it out and you know what? It wasn't awkward or intimidating. The instructor was super nice and explained everything. (And generously pretended not to care when it took me three classes to FINALLY remember my bike settings.)

It took a bit of getting used to and it left me with a rather horrific, uncomfortably placed bruise (this only happens after your first class, I promise!) that made sitting at my desk the next day slightly less than peachy. But I still totally love it. To the point where I get upset when I have to miss class because of work or driving my brother somewhere or whatever.

Moral of the story is: if you've been too afraid to try a class at your gym, just do it. It'll be worth it. Now I need to follow my own advice and start becoming a yogi.

Um, deja vu or just a desperate need to go shopping?

2. I seriously wear the same seven outfits every single week. There is zero diversity in my work wear right now and it's getting totally pathetic. I could actually give you a detailed description of the exact seven outfits, but that would be really embarrassing if anyone reading this actually sees me on those days and would be able to confirm that yes, Jesus, she really does wear the same thing over and over. I hope the girl has access to a laundry machine. (To put your mind at ease: Yes, I do. What, you think I still live at home just for the free cable? ...ok that too.)

I need to go shopping -- bad -- but unfortunately I can't. My mom and I placed a little bet last Friday to see if we could manage to go two full weeks without buying ANYTHING other than groceries and gas. (One exception: if you run out of a vital toiletry, you're allowed to replace it. We're not trying to make each other walk around in 93 degree heat without deodorant.) If either one of us slips up, the loser has to buy the winner a little present.

I haven't been much of a shopper the past few months because, hello, entry-level salary, but I have been dying to buy some new workout gear. (Gym clothes are actually the only reason I even bother to do laundry, and I'm sick of having to actually do laundry every week. I'm domestically lazy, ok?) And really, I need some new daytime duds -- just to give the people around me some visual interest, ya know? Everything I do is for the greater good of those around me, I swear...

Small problem.

This weather report is a bit of an issue. Wednesday in particular. 91 degrees and humid?  

Not ok.

I'm running this 5k on Wednesday night after work, and, you see, I'm kind of a spoiled exerciser. I only run outside if the temperature is juuuussstttt right and there's no traffic and it's not getting too dark and there aren't any threatening-looking men standing near by and there is zero humidity and, well, I'm a diva. I'll admit it.

That's why I have a gym membership. No excuses. It's lit and air conditioned and I pay way too much money to not use it and sometimes there are threatening-looking men standing nearby, but then I can just turn to them and say, "Excuse me, sir? The entire mat is empty, save for this small corner I'm using to do deadlifts and shoulder presses, so do you think you could move more than two feet away from me to stretch your hip flexors? Thank you." (Some guy really did do this to me last week. But I'm scared of confrontation so I didn't say anything. It was really uncomfortable, though.)

So what's a diva like me to do when she's already signed up and paid her 25 bucks to run a race in hellish weather? Suck it up, I guess, and look forward to losing six pounds in sweat. Why hello there, silver lining.

A little bit obsessive.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a compulsive researcher. It takes 10 hours of reading Sephora reviews before I decide what shampoo to buy. When I bought a car last summer? Oh Christ, you don't even want to know. It was repulsive how much I read about cars. My mom was ready to shoot me if I brought up transmissions and gas mileage and automatic windows at the dinner table.

Hobbies are good for the soul. It's good to have something specific to think about that isn't work and finances and the future and all that depressing crap.

So lately all my attention is focused on training for this:

Meaning my mom now wants to shoot me when I talk about pacing and cross training and crying about IT band issues. Meaning I spend nearly all of my free time reading Runner's World and obsessively researching every little ounce of pain I experience to make sure that it isn't a stress fracture. Stress fractures are my biggest fear in life. God, they're terrifying to even think about.

The race is September 18th and I'm already beginning to threaten people's lives if they don't show up to spectate. I mean, I know watching a race isn't exactly thrilling to everyone.
...So bring a flask. Anyone who knows me knows there's nothing I find more fulfilling than being the center of attention. I love a good ego boost. So basically I'm saying I'll probably run ten times faster if there are people I know lining the streets of the course, and you want that for me, riiigghtt?

Sunday Confessional

Yes, I have four different kinds of cuticle oil.

1. I compulsively apply cuticle oil throughout the day. Maybe it's because I'm always staring down at my nails typing away on the keyboard, so I'm perpetually reminded of how ragged-looking they are and it kind of ruins my self esteem. And since manicures are m.f.ing expensive, I just keep laying on the cuticle oil. Seriously sometimes five times in one day. It's an obsession. Recently I bought the Sally Hansen VitaSurge cuticle gel. It does the job, but it has these little orange bits (like those things that are the best part of using hand sanitizer!) that sort of get stuck in the sides of your nail and are bothersome. So I would maybe just stick with the regular oil next time. Moving on.

2. Until last week, I was terrified of using a foam roller. I always thought that the people at my gym who used them looked like a rare crossbreed of embarrassing and pretentious and I like to just try and look as normal as possible while I'm working out. Unfortunately, I went and effed up my right IT band last week and because I don't particularly love limping around like a grandma with a hip replacement, I looked up some videos and started foam rolling. Of course, just to confirm my worst fears, a guy I have a mild crush on walked by while I was mid-hip roll and now I'm mortified because, seriously? It's just not even possible to NOT look awkward on a foam roller. I've accepted it. But seriously dude, why couldn't you walk by when I was showing off my superior flexibility during post-cardio stretching? Or how about after I've spent 45 minutes in the locker room straightening my hair and putting on makeup? Since when are you even a member here, eh? Nevermind. Moving on. 

3. I am completely, 100% baffled by the concept of life balance. It's implausible to me. (Also implausible: marriage before I'm 57 years old. My mom suggested that I could be married in the next few years [read: she wants me to move out as soon as possible] and I laughed in her face for hours. No way, Mamacita. It's you and me and slumber parties and hair braiding and ghost stories until I'm on Medicare and finally making millions!) Anyways, I have no idea how to juggle friends and family and work and other work and staying healthy and sane. How the HELL do working mothers do it? How do they not gain 800 pounds, forget the definition of a hair brush and cry themselves to sleep at night? Oh, most of them do? Ok, well that makes me feel better.