I had an eleven mile long run scheduled for this week end and as fate would have it Gulf Winds has a ten mile race in Killearn on Saturday! What! Serendipity? What?

Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.

I ran ragnar, post to follow. It's too long and I want to get the stank into the post. I don't think I'm going to run the Turkey Trot I planned on. Too much money, too much stress. I'm going to use the $20 we were going to pay in entry fees on home made t-shirts.

Saw Shannon last night for a split second and we planned our pre-chistmas bar party. (2nd annual) Look out Tallahassee, the first time was crazy. But this time, we're experienced.

Bring 'em out, bring 'em out.

I need to stretch more. During a tennis match I went down hard on my right knee and since then the little scratch has healed, but the tightness in my IT band has stayed with me. About two miles into a run and then for the rest of the effort, I have this nagging pain in my left hip. It's the kind of hurt that just stays with you, the kind you can't think away but isn't day-ending. So tonight, with just two days left in my taper before the relay, I think I'm going to hit the treadmill in a big way. The plan is to run at race pace for 5 miles and then push it the last one, cool down for one, and then a little runner yoga to cap it all off. Tomorrow I'll go out with mike maybe for a 2-4 mile easy jog and then nothing on thursday except the drive to my mom's house and a little pre-race laundry. See you later.

Don't take this the wrong way, but your lips look really good.

Ahh! I'm getting super excited about this week end and the ragnar relay I'm in with Lisa Steinkamp. Super pumped. Super stoked. And yet, super relaxed about putting in the miles. 17-20 miles can be rough on a little chubby girl, but this one is feeling good about her preparation. This past week end brought a world class ladies night (adjusted to three glasses of wine and an early end to promote maximum sleep time with my shantron) and a big time loss in a tennis tournament. But after it was all done, and the humiliation of getting spanked on some clay courts begna to wash over me, I took the opportunity to run on some trails for the first time in a while. I don't like the uneven surface, but I hear it's great for the knees and after a couple weeks of putting in 7+ miles on the same roads day in and day out, I was ready for a change in scenary. I ran down hills, through ravines, up steep inclines, over tree branches, on rust colored patches of dried clay. I kept an eye out for snakes (story to follow). I think I ran 6 miles, but I can't be sure. It used to be that I knew exactly how long I had been going, because I looked at my watch every two minutes or could remember how many songs I had listened to. But that isn't really the case any more and I can go out for an hour and not remember what I listened to. One song becomes two, becomes the album, becomes did I already hear this? I'm excited about making a zune list for the week end, I'm excited about sleeping in a van and then running my leg at 3:30 in the morning, I'm ready for some blisters and some tired legs, I'm ready for a medal at the finish and a free t-shirt, but most of all I'm ready to hit the wall. When it comes, I know that I'm ready for it. I've felt that pain and pushed through it before. I've ran hills, and flat tracks, and dusty trails, and busy streets. I'm ready.

The Schedule:

November:
Thanksgiving 10k with the family

December:
Something for fun

January:
GWTC 15k

February:
Tallahassee Marathon

And there's this.

Size small, short sleave, cotton blend.

What to do, what to do. So my dream of being a college athlete is still there, I am 5'2 and weigh 140 lbs so that rules a ton out. But like they say in Chicago, there's always next year. I like the idea of running fast and from what I can tell, FAMU cross country doesn't have a whole lot of it on their team. Now I'm not looking for a scholarship or anything, I just want a t-shirt and a pat on the back and the rattlers might end up being my pick next fall when a season comes around. Or there's also running jv at fsu. These are obviously pipe dreams and it's going to take a lot of work to get from a 24:00 to a 19:00, but I've stuck with it this long, what is a little while longer? Plus, I really dig t-shirts.

Goals by month:

November- Turkey trot 10k

December- 5k in under 24:00

January- 10 miles

February- Half marathon

March- (Secret) Albany GA Marathon

Oh crap.

I still have dreams about San Antonio. I wake up with the distinct feeling that I am still there, still living on the east side and toiling away in the kitchen Andrew built. I don't cook any more, not professionally. I stick to rice and vegatbles, cold tofu and green onions drenched in soy and ginger, things that Mike likes to eat. I run through math problems, I go to school on cold mornings so that I can learn design process, I don't write any more. Mike and I go to dinner and I eat the dreams of some one else. My own come to me at night in the form of nightmares. I am running up the red stair case, I am awash with guilt, I am ashamed of the person I was in the depths of my adolescent misery. Le Reve is closing. In my waking hours I thought that I would have my graduation dinner there, as a symbol of how far I've come. But there won't be time for that. They'll close their doors and turn down the lights. The stair case will lead you to no where.

Ridin somein' candy coated crawlin' like a catapilla

I wonder what my running looks like to other people. I have a lot of friends, and none of them run. I hear about the occasional jog in the park, the once or twice around Lake Ella loop, but for the most part it's just me. I've been at it for a while now, since I moved back to Tallahassee and shacked up with that old man of mine. I remember our first jog, the route that started behind our old apartment, through the green way, into betton hills and back again. I remember feeling good one day, and then not so great the next. I was cycling pretty hard then, putting in 35 milers on the week ends with the local club. But this was different in that there were no cars around to hit me (which after a couple accidents tends to terrify you). Every body has good days and bad days, and I'm no exception. That's why I wonder what I look like to my friends when they see me running down the street. Holly once told me that her and Kevin caught a glimpse of us as they were finishing up ice cream on their couch. She said something about laughing at polarity of our situation, mike and me huffing and puffing, pounding pavement. If you saw me last night, around 8:00, rounding the bend on Monroe street, I can only imagine that you witnessed pure unadulterated joy. See, last night, I was super high on running. It felt like the road could go on forever and I could follow it any where. I felt light and fast as I passed people jogging around the lake. It was as if they weren't even moving, and I, I was flying. It's rare, most of the time my feet hurt, and my legs ache, my calves have the tendancy of feeling like their on fire. So it's not always easy, and it takes a ton of discipline. But if you see me and I'm running, there's a chance that it feels pretty freaking good. Better than ice cream.

And away we go...

Alright, I think it's official. I'm obsessed with running, and more specifically with running a marathon. Maybe this is a secret journal, I don't know who reads it any more. But from this point on it's probably going to be a running log. Sorry. Sunday is my first day of a new routine. This one is going to be dedicated to running the 26.2 mile race on February 1rst. I need to stretch more, I need to eat a little bit better (although not too much because gd I can't give up the cookies), I need to put in some crosstraining to reduce my chances of an injury. So let's do this. I'm ready.

Statement of fact -or- Between you and me at least, I turned out better.

I am an obsessive person. I have been so my whole life. Later, in college, it manifested itself in some terrible ways. This isn't going to be an artful post, or one that I will look back on as well written. It's just a statement of fact. I have spent the past couple of years learning to direct unhealthy behaviors and compulsions in a positive way. And you know what? I'm doing alright. I am back in school, in good shape, keep my house clean and my affairs in order. I have awesome friends, a solid relationship with someone that I respect, a best lady friend that I look up to even though we're eye level. I have goals that make sense. I no longer am paralyzed by fear or failure. I am completely and utterly myself. For the first time in years. That's a crazy thought, that I have been sneaking around in the shadows. What have I been so scared of?

Very nice.

There are some times when I sound just like him, just like Andrew. I remember standing across from him as he rolled his eyes, or watched as he blatantly ignored my every movement for days. That was his way. You messed something up, you dropped the ball, and you were punished with silence. I can't remember ever seeing him yell. The tone of his voice changed and I heard the day slide into darkness. He only told you once, and that was if the job was new. If it was an old task or something you should know, you didn't get once. You got never. And then the silence. When it would happen to me, I'd buckle down and wait it out. I'd do my tasks to the best of my ability and eventually the laughter would resume and of course it was at my expense, but it was laughter all the same. And usually it was pretty freaking funny. But that's how I work. Those are the moments when I am most like him. I don't yell, I don't ask a thousand times with a sweet voice or kind heart. The work needs to get done so I do it. I don't run behind and clean up or do over. I do it myself. To me, not doing your best is a slap in the face when I have do it for you. So yeah, it's quiet time right now.

Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy

I think it's time to make a brief note about life. So much has changed and I look back on those posts from a year ago and barely recognize myself. I guess it works like that, one chapter ends and so on and so forth. It's hard to say these things without sounding like the background commentary on a sitcom about my reflections. But now it's all good.

I am dating Mike Robertson, we've been together for a while now, living together since September or so. We have a room mate who, although he lives in Seattle/Portland/San Diego/Las Vegas/Reno, will still be considered part of the household. Who ever thought I'd be close to a born again Christian ex-baseball player who scouts for the majors, blond hair and blue eyes. But Mike is the big part of that equation. People ask me what he does for a living, I say saves the environment one EA at a time. I bake cakes and seat people for dinner, he tells Big Business and the government, sorry dudes, can't build here- that's a coastal preserve. He's so smart it's scary, but he likes when I ham it up for him. He gets a real kick out of seeing Shannon and me together. He's so cute with his black squarish hipster glasses and plaid shirts. He's growing a mustache now, we'll see how long it lasts. No tattoos, no piercings, my mom loves him. My grammy loves him. Nancy is a big fan. I can't go a day without him. Oh and Shannon, oh shannon. That's my road dog. Have you ever met someone more talented and driven and gorgeous in your whole life? When we get together our voices sound like typewriters tied to alarm clocks. I still have Dustin, although we're really far away and our schedules rarely link up. Soon I will see him again and I'll feel the familiar happiness of just hangin' with the one who saved me. Shannon has Kati Vaughn, I have Dustin Griffin. That guy saw me through all of the crazy that was San Antonio and let me be me. Even when it was scary and ugly and highly intoxicated. I'm going back to school in the fall, after taking the summer off to go to Japan. Oh there will be stories to tell. And I think I'm finally ready to do it all over again.

Palm Sundays and Manic Mondays

I forget sometimes how much I enjoy Lyle Lovett. Top 5 to be sure. One party week end fades into another. The cake for my grandparents turned out awesome. It was baked with love so by default it tasted better. I don't write in this very often any more, maybe because I tell all my secrets to someone. My life is in balance. I have good relationships, healthy ones without judgment or expectation. This week end is Easter and hopefully we will pull it together for some egg dying and lunch eating. After the stress of a big family shindig with the whole tree, it'll be nice to have a quiet afternoon in Tallahassee. I want to write more down, but I'm having a hard time articulating my thoughts. I think I'm still tired. More to come.

How's about a family guy.

I know it's been a while, and frankly I don't care.

Yesterday was Valentines day, and the end of one horrific work week. Holidays that center around dining wreak havoc on the restaurant business, ergo this girl was workin' for the week end. But let it be known that of all the holidays that we celebrate eating out or cooking for those that do, this one is my favorite. People are just nicer. Obviously this isn't universal, but if you're going out to dinner on February 14th chances are you love the person you're going with. Or at least like them enough for one evening to buy them some food and booze.

Fast forward to the end of the night, one drink at Finnegans where Barret introduced me to his fiancee and the LT. was in the house. I at a burger because I couldn't stand the constant empty feeling in the old stomach. One drink, and out of there, time for bed. Somewhere on the ride home I lost all patience and hope. I was tired and grouchy. Wonderful combination, really. Open the door walk into the bedroom to pass out, but no no, Mike needs me in the living room. The music starts and I think ok, one dance. It's a thing we do. But it isn't a dance, it's a glass of wine and it's next to a rose, a candle, a card and two very special presents. I start to cry. I love how cheesy it is. I love how he thought it out. I love that it was a secret. I love him so much every day, but come on this is perfect. I wanted it so bad, and there Mike was being just the absolutely best boy friend on the planet. Hands down. He gave me a map of America with spots for each state quarter and the family guy game of life. There's a large population of people who say, "oh, we celebrate every day, it's a hallmark holiday" I say- eat it, dudes. Nothing is better than playing the game of life with the one person that makes you happiest.