First Failure: March

I already missed my goal for the month. I did not blog last week. I will endeavor to do better, but I'm not that sad about this. It's not that consequential of a goal for me -- and perhaps that is why I failed at it in the first place.

While I try to do better, I will also make a point to spend time and develop a more rewarding goal for April. It's not necessarily better to set a goal just for the purpose of setting a goal. So, I'll make sure my next goal is something I'm more motivated to get behind.

Checking In

It doesn't take much to ruin your efforts. In my case, I almost threw away my dedication and hard work in a mere 2 days. Thank goodness I took a turn for the better at the last hour and thwarted failure. I finally got myself to the gym at 8:20pm, which is before closing time(9pm), and ran my 4 miles as quick as my legs would carry me so I didn't have to stop before I'd finished. If I hadn't gone running yesterday, I wasn't going to get in my 3 days this week. And that would totally ruin my progress and training. Ok, maybe not totally. But it would have created a crack in my confidence and dedication to the goal of training. And self-doubt is incredibly toxic.


I have been keeping a log of my marathon training for the past 4 1/2 weeks. In that time, I've logged 56 miles. While this is skimpy by normal marathon training standards (most training programs recommend you run 25-50 miles per week),I find it encouraging. Already, I've run well over 2 marathons!

I also have been diligently caring for my plantaar fasciitis. I found a new kind of stretchy sports tape. The previous tape I was using started to fall off from the increase in humidity out here, making it somewhat ineffective and incredibly annoying. The new tape sticks to my legs while I run, but doesn't stick so well that it takes my top layer of skin when I take it off AFTER I run (I especially appreciate this feature). And my ankle, even after a 10.5 mile long run last weekend, seems to be feeling really good. Not cured. But good.

I'm not burnt out on my goal. I rather enjoy the running. I haven't suffered any feelings of dead legs or a feeling of dread in anticipation of running. It seems to me 3 times a week isn't a hard regimen to keep up with. But it's easy to get out of rhythm. And I almost didn't make it a priority the last couple days. I was SUPPOSED to go running Monday. But then I fell asleep and the next thing I knew the gym was already closed (curse their summer hours). It was almost a repeat on Tuesday. Thank goodness for the almost -- I would have been so sad!

This has brought to light the longevity in focus required to meet this goal. I'm coming on 5 weeks of consistent training, or 10 if you wanna be generous and include the weeks I was running regularly and gearing up to train. But I have all the way to November 1st to get to my goal!! That's another, count 'em with me, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16 weeks! Seriously? I could fall off the wagon any NUMBER of times given that many opportunities.

I have some hope. In training, I've so far had to make some accomodations and concessions which make evident the existence of some dedication and staying power on my behalf. I've had to wake up at 6am and go running several times, just to fit it in. I've conceded to fitting in 1 day of cross-training to compensate and provide sufficient fitness training for my lower mileage training regimen. And I've found myself willing to run innumerable hills -- because that's all Fairfield, Ohio has to offer me if I want to run outside. These are my sacrifices that give me confidence. I place my offerings at the altar of the marathon gods in hopes they may find them pleasing and satisfactory. If I'm willing to do this (and believe you me when I say I really HATE running in the morning) I just might reach the marathon. I just might.

I mentioned that I almost failed, but I realize failure can have many definitions. I am running for a purpose, but that purpose is not to win a race. And it is not to run a marathon even. It is yet to be seen if my ankle will last. But it's pretty clear that the goal to run the race has been set and the entry form has been turned in. All that need not fail is my effort and dedication in reaching that goal.

If my body or life should thwart me, that's ok. Just don't let it be because I'm a slacker.

Thoughts On Cleaning

I'm not sure who thought up "spring cleaning". How is it considered a given that "spring" and "cleaning" go together? Spring signals to me running outside, more sunlight, taking walks, wearing lighter coats and playing frisbee. All of those things usually provide me with LESS time for cleaning.

More appropos for me would be "guest cleaning". I'm much more likely to tidy up for guests rather than spring. I just don't care what the heck spring thinks of my home. But my friends -- I like to make them feel comfortable. I also don't like to be dubbed "the total slob who lives in a den of filth." Don't get me wrong. I do clean for my own joy and benefit -- and to keep away icky things like vermin and ants. But, hands down, my best cleaning spells are in the wake of hosting.

So,the Book Club, comprised of various friends, is coming to my house this evening. Thus, yesterday was a cleaning extravaganza. Boy was THAT an eye opener. Truly. I wondered if my blinds had been dusted EVER. It took some time, but they made an amazing transformation from dark brown to actual white (who knew?) last night.

The most hilarious moment in the evening came when I gave the living room a thorough visual inspection to assess where I should start. I was alarmed to find the nativity set was still up. Oh, and look! A festive poinsetta atop one of the speakers on the other side of the room. And the minorah in the window. So, being the wise and savvy task manager that I am, I decided a good place to start would be to put away the Christmas decorations. Naturally.

It's the end of MAY! Wow! I could blame my distraction on my busy schedule. I have one of those. But I won't, because we all know --- I can be THAT oblivious. I had an old roommate who used to get bugged that I would forget to shut cupboard doors in the kitchen after I opened them (among other things that I do which bugged her -- and may still bug her and other people, I'm sure). I warned my new roommate, before she moved in, of this quirk and also added that this would be one of many. I believe in open disclosure.

Somehow I didn't get the female gene that mandates I think lots of things are "icky", scream at spiders and must meticulously clean my bathroom on a weekly basis. This is partially because I just don't notice half the stuff(note the Christmas decor experience listed above).

And I'm just not a squeamish, "that's gross" kind of girl. I find dramatic reactions tiring and silly. Not because all people who squeal at a spider are silly. No, indeed. But because I am silly when I do it because I have no natural inclination to do so. It'd be pure theatrics. Honest. I've tried it. I just felt silly. Instinctively, when I encounter a crawling thing, I just debate on whether to kill it or let it live as long as it doesn't crawl on ME. After all, what did the spider ever do to me? But if it DOES crawl on me,-- well that is an offense, justifiably punishable by death to the spider. So, is it worth the risk to let one of God's creatures live? Dilemmas.....

Another element is that I didn't observe peculiar activities like that thing called "dusting" unless I was at a friend's house -- my mother just wasn't a neat freak. At all. She still isn't. I can recall one occasion, just before my parents were leaving for their mission this past fall, in fact. We were having company over and I was "guest cleaning" the house completely, as my mother had broken her ankles and wasn't really able to help. I asked her about a couple of things she might like me to do to make the house look really nice. Her response was, "No, that's alright. It's ok if the house looks like we live here."

I love that about my mom. We didn't grow up in a meticulously clean home, but it was relatively orderly, very open to people (who seemed to like to be there) and, reflectively, I appreciate that I got to spend time with my mother rather than watch her clean a lot.

I am also grateful she made us clean on occasion, taught us HOW to clean (though I have had to learn a couple things since having left the nest.... like dusting), and that I can make a bathroom sparkle when given the right motivation. But I just don't care to do it all the time. Unless of course, you're coming over. In which case, maybe you could give me a day's notice? I might suddenly feel inspired to do a few things...

longterm vs. shortterm

Geoffrey Beane and I were having a conversation yesterday about decisions and actions based on longterm and shortterm. This conversation was spurred by Sex and The City (I had just finished watching the last 4 episodes of the 6th season, for the 1st time). He iterated that two of the characters made a lot of decisions based on shortterm gratification rather than longterm goals. Therefore, he didn't like or respect the characters very much.

In some respects, I see his point. But I also think that it depends on how you are looking at it. In some circumstances, it could be true, or not, that shortterm, and maybe even "short-sighted," motives and behaviors are completely justified.

I cited to him that a dating relationship is most obviously a shortterm decision. Granted, for many people there are long-term goals in mind. But rarely do I go on a first date with the idea that I'm getting married to my date. I'm thinking more along the lines of surviving the evening, not embarassing myself, getting to know someone and trying to have a good time. I've even been on dates where I KNEW beforehand it was going nowhere. I was espousing the idea of being nice to the guy, and it can't hurt to have a good time (as long as he doesn't scare me.:)) Geoffrey ceded that dating was a shortterm goal that was not bad.

So, does everything you do have to have an over-arching longterm purpose? For example, dancing. Does dancing have a longterm purpose? It seems pretty instant gratification-oriented to me. What about my shoe collection? Or that trip to Vegas last week? :) One thing's for sure. Neither has helped my bank account(***please note that no money lost in Vegas was due to losses in gambling.**** please also note that I did not say I DIDN'T gamble. I just said I didn't lose.). But are they bad?

I think my life would be much less fulfilling without these things. But then there are obvious ones to identify -- one nightstands -- I see how that is a very bad shortterm gratification. Sad, because they do sound so fun and easy in theory. There must, however, be a place for doing something for the "fun" of it, without being bad.

I think it has a lot to do with the "eat, drink and be merry" theory. There is this place called "living it up" where things go from white to grey to bad. Lines dividing these areas are very evasive, so much so that I'm not sure they have ever been identified. This is probably why old party-pooper fuddy-duddies always warn to stay as far away from the edge of the line as possible: because it is so hard to identify whether or not the line's been crossed, and they believe one's better off to avoid the bad at any and all costs.

And then you have idiots like myself, who like to get as cloooooooooose as possible to those lines, in the spirit of wanting to have as much FUN as possible and "suck the marrow at of life"... without being bad. Not a wrong endeavor, right? But it's so hard to discern when it is exactly that things start to go bad. I'm not sure this blog ended up where it started. But thoughts don't always do that. And I was just thinking....

Why I Don't Spend Money on Pedicures

The end to a training season has finally come. Saturday was my long-anticipated 1/2 marathon. This season had been riddled with little hang-ups for me. I am happy to report, despite the hangups and at the end of it all, it has been a strengthening, motivating, inspiring and overall very good experience. Yeah for accomplishing goals! Yeah for 1/2 marathons! My feet definitely got the short end of the stick this year. I don't think they're saying, "Yeah!" I think they're saying, "Did you have to do this to us right at the start of sandal season? I really liked having a full set of toenails. We're so embarassed to be seen." But that's the way it goes. They always fair poorly. They are forced to make a noble sacrifice for the greater good of the rest of me.

When not in training season, I still exercise. It has so many good effects. It's like a fountain of youth, health, energy and loads of other things. But this year, early on in my training, I realized that along with all of exercise's usual splendid benefits, my training was having additional side effects. In particular, It was causing me to gain weight.

GAIN?!?! What?!?! This is not an effect that I consider desirable. Admittedly, I am very anal about my weight and I watch my numbers like a hawk. I don't diet. Ever. But I do monitor.

I've heard that numbers don't matter. And while those words are perfectly audible and straightforward in definition, they really make no sense to me. No matter how low my numbers on the scale, I can't ever recall thinking they were too low. And no matter what numbers they have risen to, I can't ever recall feeling glad about it. And then my clothes were fitting tighter this season. Mmmm hmmm. Don't try to tell me I'm looking leaner. I am well aware muscle takes up room. Room I have not made accomodations for in my jeans. The sad truth is that I am a very typical, pathetic, superficial girl. I am small. And I like being small. And I do not desire that there should ever be MORE of me.

Training continued anyway. And I would look at the scale, week after week of training, and see that the numbers were consistently staying up. "No matter," I would tell myself. "It's muscle. At least most of it is. It is muscle, isn't it? How can I be sure? Does my waist look bigger to you?"

I didn't own a submerssive tank of water where I could dunk myself and accurately test the exact composition changes in my body each week. I hear they're expensive. I soothed myself, unable to test the actual changes in my body makeup, with the idea that it was only temporary and the glory and accomplishment of running the race would make it all worth it. Such a small sacrifice for the cause. I could be little again later. I'd be glad.

Then you add scheduling problems. I was working about 60 hrs/wk most weeks this training season. You add in making time for dates, commuting, and life as it comes, --- it does not make for an easy and consistent training schedule. I tried to schedule a couple sessions with a trainer. Ha! That was a laugh. I met with him once. And then, the next 7am appt. was thwarted by a change in work schedule, having to go to work early and off-site. It seemed to be a good indicator that I really just didn't have time for that. I got to the gym 3 x's/wk, on average. That was my goal.

But then there were a few weeks I missed my goal. And a few weeks when the long run I had planned just didn't fit in. Argggghh. Why does everyone marry in the spring? Don't people know there are races to train for? But it wasn't so bad. Since I had run 1/2 marathons before, I had the confidence and experience I needed in order to know what I could do. And I was able to train just enough to be able to do it.

And then there are all my injuries. I'm always injured. Call it Fibromyalgia. Call it a need for new shoes. Doesn't matter what you call it. It still hurts like hell. But after all that training, and ESPECIALLY after having already sacrificed my tight leash on the numbers of the scale, no ache or pain could keep me from my goal. I would run the race, I would finish, and I would finish respectably. I had an ankle ailment that was plagueing me for probably a good 1/2 of my training. But I was able to run on it anyway. After about 2 months and, coincidentally, about a week before the race, the ankle ailment moved and became a hip ailment. Gotta love Fibromyalgia. The hip ailment was a sharper pain, and seemed much more alarming and threatening to me. So, while I knew I was cardiovascularly ready and capable in strength, this new development caused me to worry thatI might be in for a disappointing finish.

The week before the race I did nothing. I was ready enough and there seemed no good reason to aggravate my ailments before race day. My weight had loomed up to it's highest during this week of inactivity. This is mostly because, in an effort to make sure I had enough energy, I made sure I ate more than enough all week long. Not completely logical, as I was just creating more of myself to cart around on the run. But from personal experience, I would say that it's the lesser of two evils. It really sucks to run a race when you're low on fuel. You feel weak, you don't perform well, and, basically, it completely destroys any training you've done. You might as well not train at all. So, despite myself, I ate. Lots. "It's all temporary," I kept telling myself.

Race day came. I didn't sleep very well the night before. I was TOTALLY anxious. Who sleeps well the night before the race? The guy I met the morning of the race does, apparently. His name is Bilal. He flew in for the race from LA. As luck would have it, however, his good night's sleep was thwarted by a crying baby a few hotel rooms away. Tough break.

Bilal happened to be running the marathon, but both races started together. So he and I, since we had struck up a conversation, started running together. He happened to be my exact pace. That was great. We clipped along with great conversation. We discussed different races. We talked about college. We talked about positive energy. He said I had great positive energy. I think he was hitting on me. And as we continued to chat, I mused about how funny it would be if I ever ended up dating a Lebanese accountant from LA who I met at a marathon. We ran together for the first 4 miles until our race courses diverged. Then I was on my own.

My hip had started to notify me that it wasn't feeling the best at mile 3. At mile 4, it notified me a little more loudly. At mile 6.5, it had stopped notifying me. Instead, it started to boycott. I was struggling to keep a smooth stride. The pain in my hip began to make me flinch with the impact of each step on that leg. As I continued to disregard it, the sharp, shooting pains persisted and the flinching became worse. I assessed things in my head and realized I had about 1/2 the race to go. And with a flinching right side, the miles ahead suddenly stretched before me, covering an expanse that was very long, grueling and quite painful. Before, those miles had seemed challenging, fun and surpassable. The reality of my situation was sinking in.

I stopped running and I began to walk. I walked for about a quarter mile. And I thought. I wasn't quite sure what to do at that point. I could walk the 7 remaining miles. It's long. But I'd finish. Eventually.... Some time... In a few hours. I was so disappointed. All the glory and accomplishment I had hoped for seemed unattainable-- keeping my 9 min pace, finishing under 2 hrs, improving -- all I had trained for. And I know I already mentioned this, but I was so disappointed. I think Bilal would have been disappointed too, if he knew. All that work for this? A bum hip and a long walk. Most irksome of all, my muscles weren't even tired yet. It felt like I hadn't worked at all.

Finally, I thought, "Screw the hip. I'm running anyway." I AM aware this makes me sound like I'm as bright as a caveman and quite juvenile. I don't deny either completely. We all have our moments. But logically, the worst prospect was that maybe I wouldn't run for a while. Who cares? My race is today. Not tomorrow. So, I ran. I ran lower to the ground. I ran my toes into the front of my shoes. And I ran more slowly. But soon I ran more confidently. And with a very sharp learning curve, I figured out how to maneuver so that I would cause my hip as little pain as possible. And I ran for the rest of the race. I even was able to put up a bit of a sprint at the end! I ran till I wasn't sure what hurt more: my muscles, my hip or any number of other joints from my waist down. And I finished my race w/ 1:57:38, an 8:59 min mile pace. Booyah!

Two days after the race, I am delighted to report that I have VERY VERY VERY SORE muscles. And I think I avoided permanent damage (The beauty of Fibromyalgia is that, though you may FEEL very wholly and truly injured, you're really not. You just feel that way.). Most happily, I walk ever so gingerly. I proudly hobble down stairs. I joyously (and more ably than going down) ascend stares with a huge lack of grace. And I am quite sure I will lose 3 toenails. I wore sandals to church yesterday and I am wearing sandals to work today, which I never do. But I can't put anything else on my feet at the moment. And I don't care. And next year, I will try to knock my time down to be somewhere below 1:50. Maybe. I think that's doable. We'll see. That'd be sooo cool. Someday I may have feet that will stay nice enough to make a pedicure worthwhile. That day is not today. Can't say I'm too choked up about that.

Being Comfortable with Being a Slacker

Most days, I feel a need to improve myself. I feel a need to work hard. I feel a need to eat healthy, work towards my goals, and seek after my destiny.

Then, some days, I'm just plain tired. I get tired of worrying, I get tired of planning, I get tired of being diligent. Doesn't just the word, "diligent" sound tired to you? Just the thought of it could be enough to make one tired. Being prudent and careful... you're just GONNA get tired. Sometimes, a person needs to relax. And know it's ok to relax. They need a kind of a nap, in more than just the literal sleeping sense of the word. Such is today and yesterday for me. I think I ate 5 rice crispy treats yesterday for lunch (LARGE, home-made rice crispy treats... mmm). And today, 3 of those chocolate-peanut butter eggs accompanied my breakfast. I had no plan to deviate from a healthy eating schedule. And I still don't think I'm overeating and gorging, so I don't feel REALLY bad. Just a little mischievious. :)

The glitch is, I have a 1/2 marathon in 2 weeks, and this is REALLY not the time to pack on a couple extra pounds, as it will just be more for me to cart along on the 13.whatever-it-is mile journey. But one doesn't plan when they need a nap. And I need a nap. So, I am taking one.