Negative Nancy

I missed a run this morning. I had every intention of getting out there, but I got side-tracked talking to a neighbor. We let Dobson and Henry (our respective puppies) play in the snow together and I completely lost track of time. Admittedly, I could have fit in the run, it was only 3 miles. I told myself to get dressed for the run, but my ass stayed firmly planted on the couch. As the minutes ticked by I remained on said couch, fully aware that my window of time was passing.

Sometimes the gap between wanting and doing seems insurmountable.

I started getting down on myself: How am I going to run a half if I can't get my ass out the door?, How am I going to finish my editing this thesis draft by next week? How am I going to loose weight so I can look super hot for the wedding? How, how, how....??

And there she was in all her glory, Negative Nancy. Since the beginning of the year I've been thwarting all of Nancy's attempts to get into my head, and this morning I was unsuccessful. Her words stomped on my confidence and quite simply just put me in a bad mood. So now I'm in my office on campus (that I share with two other part-timers) writing this blog, listening to some Gwen Stefani trying to eradicate Nancy and her negativity.

While the bright bubbly sounds of Gwen Stefani help, I still need to find a way to get Nancy to stay away FOR-EV-ER. So fellow bloggers, I ask for your advice. How do you keep Negative Nancy away? When she does show up, how do you make sure the visit is nice and short? Any advice would be helpful, I have some hill repeats on deck and I need to kick ass!

Dobson likes the interwebs too!

Post Script:

I am aware that there are others in this blogging community who plan on running the Cleveland (Half)Marathon in May. Let me take this time to say that Viper and I would be thrilled to meet some of you folks in person! We're even thinking about brewing a special beer in honor of the event. :-D

"No, it's just pissing me off."

For those of you who have been following this blog it's no surprise that I've been training for the Cleveland Half Marathon. The Viper has been with me every step of the way, encouraging but tough- exactly what a good coach should be. I've surprised myself by being consistent and by maintaining high spirits on most of my runs. Running together has provided us with opportunities to talk about the wedding, on one such run I spent the whole first mile jabbering on and on about hydrangeas, roses, seeded eucalyptus, lisianthus and hypericum berries. The Viper was oddly quiet during that conversation, he may have perfected the art of running while sleeping. But needless to say, I really have been enjoying the company and the encouraging words - until last night.

My training plan involves running and cross training with no days off. This is not my norm, so there have been some growing pains. On Monday we ran 4 miles, and yesterday we were slotted to do a mile of hill repeats with a nice little warm up/down. The run was put off till later evening as we met with yet another photographer after work. Around 8 p.m. we finally got out the door, I went to activate my spiffy workout app on my super cool android phone, but the gps was not "initializing." Boo. I finally put the phone away, and the Viper and I took off down our street in the slushy cold mess. (We had some sweet freezing rain last night, awesome!)

We finally arrived at the bottom of the designated hilly street, the plan was to run the hill five times. Viper gave me some encouraging words and then we were off. The first time up Viper and I stood side by side, he was focusing on form and encouraged me to do the same. I tried. It was hard. We walked back down the hill and continued doing the same. My legs were on fire by the third pass. I was losing focus on form and just trying to stay upright without puking. Viper was all bouncy happy in his Vibrams going on and on about form and "picking up knees" and "blah, blah blah." By the fourth time up the hill I was really reaching for energy and motivation. I stopped at the top of the hill with my hands on my hips panting like a dog. I didn't want to do anymore. I looked at Viper, he was waving his arms expectantly, eager to do our last pass. He made it look so easy. I was getting angry. I mustered all my energy and joined him for the walk downhill. I turned to him and asked "Sweetheart, could you please not talk to me while we're running up the hill?" He replied, "OK, does it make you feel like you need to respond?" I had to be honest, "No, it's just pissing me off." He laughed.

So Viper, thank you for understanding.

Running is hard, but I'm not going to stop because of that. Even if at times, it pisses me off.

West Side

I am a West-sider. Have I ever mentioned this? Likely not. I am from a lovely southwest suburb of Cleveland called Berea. I am proud of my hometown. It was after all, the grindstone capital of the world. It also proudly boasts Baldwin-Wallace College (my alma matter) with its superior conservatory, musical theater program and overall attentiveness to the student. Not a fan of the arts, we've got football too. Ever hear of Coach Tressel? Yep, the Tressel family is from Berea. Not a Buckeyes fan? Well Berea's got this team called the Cleveland Browns. Heeeeellllllo Hillis.

Cleveland is a fine city. As stated earlier, I am from the west. It seems in Cleveland the division between east and west is pretty stated. West-siders dislike venturing into places like Lyndhurst, and east-siders wouldn't be caught dead in Rocky River. Each respective "side" disdains the other. I don't know why, I don't question it. It's just the way it is. So with this awesome logic I am always proud to tout the fact that I am from the west side. But to be fair, Cleveland as a whole is a pretty kick ass place.

So, why is Cleveland so special. Lots of reasons. I'll give you a few gems.

1.) West Side Market: This market has been doing its thing since the 1840's! You want it, they got it. A trip to the market wouldn't be complete without some pizza bagels, homemade pierogis, a poppyseed roll and some smokies.

2.) Malls: So this might not appeal to everyone, but the west-side suburbs have the sweetest shopping. Though none of the west-side malls have a Saks or a Nordstroms, ( I can't afford that stuff anyhow) they basically have everything else. Southpark, Great Northern and Crocker Park are the stuffs that shopping dreams are made of. *sigh*

3.) The Cleveland Metroparks Zoo: I LOVE the zoo. I have some amazing memories from the zoo. It's a fairly decent sized zoo that's just a good time to walk around. It's currently under some serious construction, (making way for a mighty big elephant habitat) but it's still sweet. They even has a Rainforest in it's own geodesic dome. It's 80 degrees year round in there, a nice pick me up in the middle of winter if I don't say so myself!

4.) A Christmas Story House: Interested in seeing "the soft glow of electric sex?" Yes ladies and gents, the movie A Christmas Story was indeed filmed in Cleveland. You can still see the house (as it's been restored to all its movie magic glory.) Most of the outdoor scenes were actually filmed either in downtown Cleveland at Public Square or in Cleveland's Tremont neighborhood.

5.) Beer: Yes folks, Cleveland has lots of beer. Local breweries include the GLBC, Cornerstone Brewing Co, Rocky River Brewing Co, The Brew Kettle, and Fat Head's Brewery just to name a few.

6.) Lake Erie and the Cuyahoga River: So maybe the river did catch on fire once, but seriously the lake and the river make parts of Cleveland quite picturesque. There are cruise boats (with varying degrees of kitsch) that take you around and show you a good time, like the GoodTime III and the Nautica Queen. On the lake front is Cleveland Browns Stadium (watch out kickers, the wind can be wicked), the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Great Lakes Science Center. Not to mention, it's a great place to be proposed to. :-)

7.) CMA: Just click on the link... it really speaks for itself.

So, I could keep going, but I'll stop. Cleveland is full of good times. The food scene is progressively getting super awesome. (Thanks Michael Symon.) There are fun neighborhoods and each suburb has a unique personality with something to offer.

Cleveland proper is a beautiful city with some fantastic examples of american architecture. There isn't a day of the year that wouldn't be a nice day to take a stroll around Cleveland, and I'll always stand by that statement.

The point: While I do like to simply exalt my hometown, there is a more specific reason for this blog. Yesterday I was lamenting my weight gain and general laziness when I did something a bit hastily. I busted out the debit card, got me to the internets and signed up for the Cleveland Half-Marathon, after all - the route does go through the west side. ;-)

I ran this morning. For the first time in a month.

Oh, and all you readers gearing up for Cleveland - hit me up as I can definitely promise to show you Cleveland's best!

Sometimes...

you just need a little pick me up.

Finding my Enthusiasm

I know I stopped posting. Why? Because I had lost my enthusiasm. How could I be the Enthusiast without it?

I didn't want to run.

I didn't want to work.

I didn't want to edit my thesis.

I was a blob of frustrations and self-deprecating behavior, I was eating McDonald's way too much and not moving at all. I stopped caring.

Without going into psychoanalytical mode, let me just say that I've had problems like this in the past, but I thought that was all behind me. I was wrong. Sometimes, when you're a type A, an overachiever, a "the best" type - you stop thinking about all the good you can do, and focus on all the other things you're not accomplishing. I was stuck thinking about the latter and it was paralyzing me. I had lost my mojo.

I had to find it. (Yes bloggers, I am an Austin Powers fan.)

With Ohio fall proving to be beautiful as always, I used nature to help get me out of my haze. (read: Thoreau) I decided that since all the encouragement from my loved ones (read: Viper) was falling on deaf ears, I had to find my mojo for myself.

Ultimately, it was a whole plethora of events that brought me back to my mojo. Lately I've been feeling that urge, that something, the drive that makes me go and today, my friends, today I found my mojo. Everything just felt right, the nagging voice in the back of my head was gone and I was ready to take on the day will full vigor, with ENTHUSIASM. Today I worked out, ran, ate right, taught the hell out of my classes. Today for the first time in a really long time I feel confident. And it feels damn good.

Moving forward I have two major goals:

1) Finish my damn thesis!

2) Get myself into great shape, I'm getting married in less than a year!

I leave you all with this little gem of Hollywood. :-D

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.