What's black and blue... ?

and embarrassed all over? Me.

For this I have to back pedal. Last week Viper and I headed out to the bike and hike trail in the Summit Metroparks. He was aiming to log his longest/fastest run barefoot. I was aiming to be course support on the bike. We started and immediately there was a hill. I hate hills on the bike. I was ready to just walk the bike up- but then a sudden urge on inspiration came over me - I was going to own that hill. I got my momentum going, got out of the seat and went to shift when the panic set it. I totally utterly and completely forgot wether or not my left thumb or my left index finger would shift me down. Fuck. I was so out of practice with gear shifting and so overwhelmed by my enthusiasm in taking the hill I drew a blank and shifted up, more panic followed by a rookie mistake, a too quick downshift.

The result.

Me, pedaling faster than hell on the steepest part of the incline out of my seat with my chain helplessly off the gears. I don't know much about physics, but I 'm sure there's some law that could explain the inevitability of my falling. (Or is that just gravity?) My right calf slammed against the pedal as I did everything in my power to stay upright.

The result.

Two very nasty bruises on the inside of my right calf.

Wait - it gets better.

This past weekend while in Fort Wayne Dobson and I were out to enjoy a leisurely walk on the Rivergreenway. My goal was to walk from the trial head to the old fort in the city. I knew Dobson would be up to the challenge so we set out as Viper was aiming to do his 20 miler. All was well, the Dob and I passed points of interest (who knew a water treatment plant could be such a fine example of American architecture) and finally made it to the fort. I was disappointed when I got there for two reasons: 1) the bathrooms were padlocked shut and Dobson desperately needed water, 2) and there were no historical placards in sight. There's nothing worse than being in a historical sight and not being able to read up on why it was so damn important. We turned around, eager to finish the walk.

About a half mile in a biker whizzed past us from behind and Dobson was startled, he jumped and his head hit the outside of my left calf. I felt an odd sensation at that moment. Pressure followed by intense pain. I looked down and saw a blood-filled bump on my calf about the size of a dime. I kept walking and the pain got worse, my calf felt as though it were on fire - the next time I looked down the dime sized bump has literally turned into the size of a golf ball. SHIT. I had a huge visible clot of blood on my calf. The skin around the whole calf was dotted red and the bump was growing in size. I was in the middle of a long stretch of scenic pathway and I was getting scared. I called Viper, but I knew he wouldn't answer - he only turns his phone on to call at the turnarounds. I left a panicked voicemail. I'm not a doctor. Was it a blood clot? Did a vein burst? Was this thing going to travel up my leg and kill me? ( A bit extreme, I know, but I was scared.) The bottom line, if I walked it hurt and got bigger. So I stopped walking. I called my future sister-in-law and explained the situation. Within the next 20 minutes future father-in-law and sister-in-law were at my side getting Dobson and I situated in the makeshift ambulance.

In the meantime Viper called to let me know he was at his turnaround (unaware of the voicemail) and I'm sure I gave him one hell of a shock. I knew he was too far out to be of any timely help and I didn't want him to feel helpless so I finally told him just to finish his run. In the ambulance we headed home to coffee, homemade pancakes and sausage. (Much better than any ER.)

The result.

I still don't quite know what the thing on my leg is. My mom has a history with stuff like this, she told me it was burst blood vessel and that it will eventually go down and turn into one hell of an ugly bruise. If I see red lines or if it migrates I need to haul ass to the hospital. If anyone knows better - let me know. :-)

I have to very bruised and sore legs now. I feel rather silly and embarrassed when I look down and see so much black and blue. Here's to hoping for cooler, long pants weather.

Totaled

It's been forever since I've posted. I know. Why, you ask? Life. Half-marathon training? Nope. Working? Yes. Thesis-ing? Sorta. Prepping for my now three (previously two) courses this fall? Not really. Recently finding out my Art History II courses at different campuses (at the same university) are using different books? Undoubtedly. Getting ridiculously excited for the wedding? Yes'sir.

I haven't posted because I just haven't felt all that enthusiastic about anything lately, aside from wedding plans, and who wants to read a wedding planning blog, really? This summer is almost over and I've accomplished just about nothing on my list of things to do. I am determined to graduate this fall, but with three courses on my plate and prepping for two of them as first-time courses my confidence is wavering. I stopped training for the half when it stopped being fun. I started dreading every day on the calendar that had a small circled number in the corner "to run." Anxiety would creep into my muscles when I would realize after a 10 hour work day that I was supposed to go home to work on the thesis stuff and run. The reality - it wasn't going to happen.

I beat myself up over all of it for quite a while. I didn't understand why I couldn't be more productive. Why couldn't I work, run, prep for classes and work on a thesis? I had a really hard time understanding what was wrong with me. My enthusiasm was gone and I felt defeated.

Then it happened - the unpredictable.

I was on my way into work on a Monday morning, dazed, tired and in no mood to be getting off the highway. I wasn't paying close attention the the queue of cars in front of me waiting to merge onto the exit and then - THUD. My head was looking left, my car was facing right and my front bumper had shoved itself into the rear end of a small s-10. "Shit, I just got into an accident." An old man emerged from the small truck, looked at the damage and took out a cell phone - he documented the damage. Meanwhile all I could think about was the long line of cars behind us waiting to exit the highway. The last thing I wanted was to hear about my idiocy over the radio traffic report. Finally, we pulled into the nearest gas station and assessed the situation. Not too bad, his car looked much worse than mine. I went to my folk's place (since they live closer to my work than I do) and started with the insurance stuffs.

Long story short. My car was totaled. Apparently the force of impact shoved around the inside parts of my car - a.c. was done, radiator was cracked - in the end, it would have cost more than the 2000 Hyundai Elantra was worth to fix it.

The Viper and I are just getting our bearings as a financially responsible young couple so I spent days stressing over the car, wondering how we could afford a new car, feeling silly for having gotten us in this situation. He was my rock, he reassured me we would figure things out and not to worry. I tried, but let me tell you- trying not to worry can be pretty damn stressful.

Then I let go. My family stepped in with amazing generosity and I realized that life happens. We don't have control - really. I plan, I organize, I stress and I put ridiculous amounts of pressure on myself to perform extraordinarily well. And for what? Success? Success by who's measure? Mine? Yours? My advisor's? My parent's? (See where I'm going with this....)

I wear the pollyanna hat best, I just need to don it again. My new goal. To be enthusiastic about what I pursue. Simple. Easy. Stress free.

New Slang

It's beautiful out there today, and I might add, it was a lovely day for a short run. With some perfect tunes I geared up (somewhat reluctantly) and hit the pavement in my neighborhood. My training went from awesome to non-existent last week. But this week I was hell bent on getting back out there. So far - eh, kinda good.

I got out there Tuesday with Dobson. I took him to Sand Run- that was interesting. The hills of Sand Run are usually enough to get me down within my first mile, but when you have a 70 pound ball of fur on the end of a rope zig-zagging you around the trail you don't notice the hills so much. I still don't exactly know how the run went, it was sporadic, crazy and consisted of lots of "good boy's" and "watch me's!"

I was supposed to run a recovery on on Wednesday. That didn't happen. I did it today. (So much for recovery.) I plan on picking up and not missing any miles for the week, but that means back to back days of running, something my body is not used to. Regardless, I need to get back on track. I got myself into this pickle...

The long weekend ahead thus far looks to be packed full of bbq's, family, friends, running, biking and hopefully - relaxing poolside.

Everything looks better with an engagement ring on your finger...

every outfit
every purse
every can of Coke Zero
every curling iron
every dirty dish
every pen (I am a lefty after all...)

And ultimately, every time I think about my future, it looks much better knowing I'll always have my man right there with me.

(For details, click here)

And I love you, my dear.

Murderers, Rapists and Ribena

As you all may be aware, my training has been going pretty darn well. I've had to slide some training days around to accommodate my schedule, but I'm getting the miles in and that's the most important part.

What you are not aware of is what happened this past Saturday on the towpath. Viper explains "Saturday night was a seven-miler at race pace (8:54 pace) with the Enthusiast biking." What he does not explain, is well - the whole story.

We left late to get in our respective runs/cross training. I had pooped out on a run earlier in the week and was committed to getting in the mile I lost in a not-so-awesome attempt at running mid-day. (Damn humid Ohio summers.) The plan was simple: Viper would run my first half mile with me, I would turn back to finish my full mile, jump on my bike and catch up to the Vip. As all of this was happening the sun was slowly setting. Picturesque, JMW Turner-like, right? Wrong.

After I got my bike off the car and make a quick pit stop at the latrine (smelly!) I began at a nice steady pace on the bike to meet up with my man. The sun was sinking over the corn fields of Szalay's and then - BOOM. DARKNESS. I could hear birds, feel the crushed limestone under my wheels but I COULD NOT SEE A DAMN THING. The backlight on my bike computer pooped out at some point while in storage (read: sitting in the exposed shed all winter) and I had no idea what time it was, how far I had gone or how long I had been on my bike. I began to panic. Where was Viper? I mean the woods is where all the murderers and rapists hang out. I could be dashing right past his dismembered body and not even know it. I tried to do the math of where we would meet on the path in my head but sheer panic is not conducive to figuring out math in my simple artsy head. I was surrounded by blackness and I had, honest to God, never been so afraid in my whole life. I just kept peddling faster and faster, when I would feel a twinge in my leg I would down shift my gears. I was freaked and flying on the bike.

Now, I know some of you must be thinking, "C'mon lady, it's not that scary in the park at night." And for some of you, I'm sure it's not. But I grew up fearing the park, trails and wilderness at nighttime. My mother always warned be about those murderers and rapists. But the scariest part of all was not knowing where Viper was, he was on foot and my skewed math had told me I should have met up with him long before I actually did...

Panic. Panic was consuming all of my thoughts. I think I might have actually been whimpering at one point. Then finally, finally - I found Viper. He was alive - and well. I was so relieved to see him I just lost it right then and there on my bike. We rode/ran back at a nice pace but admittedly even with the Vip there, I was still quite relieved to finally see the turn off for our trail head.

In the end I learned a few very important lessons on Saturday night.

1) I'm a big wimp when it comes to being in the dark.

2) Never go running/biking in the park when it's dark again.

3) Stop watching CSI, Unsolved Mysteries, Cold Case Files, Forensic Files, etc...

FAST FORWARD

Yesterday I did my long run. My legs were still sore from my biking frenzy on Saturday night so my coach came with me for the much needed encouragement. I did four miles with a route that introduced me to The Bastard Garman Hill. I killed the hill. Seriously. And Viper, he was always a step or two behind as I climbed to my glory. I know he could have vaporized me on that hill, but he didn't. Now that my friends - that's love.

And finally - Ribena. Much thanks to Xenia for sending me the BEST care package ever. I mellowed out last night with my Ribena, but not before sharing with Dobson. :-D

Doin' It

Well folks, I'm doing it.

My training is going really well, the running is getting a tad easier and I'm actually kinda sorta for reals enjoying it.

I'm still having issues finding the best way to cover my bottom half. I am pear shaped and I cannot wear running shorts unless I want them to ride up my crotch the whole time. My New Balance Bonita Run Skirt has seriously been a life saver, as it covers my ass wonderfully. The only downer, I need to wear capri tights under it, or else the shorts underneath ride up. The issue: it's HOT in Ohio right now, and super humid. My goal: A pair of running tight shorts, knee length or so, to wear under the skirt. (Could this get any more complicated?) I'm a girlie girl, I like skirts and cute tank tops and bright colors - can I help it if I want to look super cute when I'm out there sweating my ass off? ;-)

In other news, the job is settling down which means I need to get my ass in gear prepping for next semester. I'm teaching a new course in the fall and have yet to get that ball rolling. Now that I've literally got my ass in gear I need figuratively shift it into an art history gear, and fast.

Oh yeah, and that thesis thing. Need to finish that. Right.

Inner Monologue

A trip into my head during a run... it's not too scary, I promise.

(For those readers in foreign lands that can't access youtube links, this is No Doubt's In My Head, from their Rocksteady album.)

"Damn, It's already 7:00 pm and I have to run 3 miles today.
The Viper will get all bad ass coach on me if I don't get my run in before he gets home from the banjo jam.
Oh, I'll wear my new capris. I hope they don't suck.
I wonder if all girls have as many issues as I do finding running shorts/skirts/capri's that work?
I have such wide hips it's ridiculous.
I lost 2.2 pounds at my weigh in this week, so that's good.
But I gained 1.8 the week before, so really I only lost .4 - hell, that's still good. It's something.

Will I get faster as I get slimmer?

I hope I do at least a bit.


Out the door. I usually feel more motivated once I get going.
I'm going.
I'm not motivated.
Damn, my right ankle is twitching funny.
Will I have to stop? (That would be kinda nice though, not having to do this today...)
But no, the ankle is fine - just adjusting.

Shit. These capris SUCK.
Holy wedgie and camel toe.

Dammit, I have to run down Merriman like this.
All the rich people will point and laugh at my massive wedgie issue from their gigantic home windows.
They'll think to themselves 'Poor girl, she can't afford a trainer, personal chef and liposuction.'
They'll pity me.

I can't wait to turn down a side street.
Thank you God, side street is here.
Why is this run so hard today? This whole week has been hard.
My coach has worked me.

Tuesday I ran, Thursday I ran and did strength, Saturday I biked for 30 minutes.
The bike ride was tough. Been since September or so since I've been on the bike.
My ass hurt and my thighs burned.

No wonder my legs feel like lead.
I haven't been this active since I trained for my first 5k in Nov of 2008.
I was so motivated then. I remember the first time I ran over 2 miles, I was on vacation with Viper in Cooperstown, NY.
I ran along Lake Otsego.
Damn, I could go for some Cooley's wings.
That was such a beautiful morning, the sun rising over the lake, smoke on the water, rolling hills - it was marvelous and I was so excited.

I need that kind of enthusiasm again.
This is hard.
Running is hard for me.
When will it get easier?
Will it get easier?
I've taken so many walk breaks this is crazy.
I suck.
No, you don't suck. You're out here - that's all that matters.

SHIT - TURKEY SAMMICH COMING BACK UP!!!
That was close, I honestly didn't know if that was burp or barf coming up.

Lame, only 2.5 miles in and I almost yack.
Quit getting down on yourself! This is your first week of training in forever!

Almost home.

Just dig deep, finish strong.

Damn, is it 'walk your family down the street day' in our neighborhood.

Stupid wedgie pants.

Oh well.

Home is in sight.

Kick it in.

Done.

Damn.

That felt good."