Saturday, March 28, 2009

Early planning for IM-UTE

So far, nine members of my triathlon team (the New Mexico Outlaws) have signed up for Ironman St. George, aka IM-UTE, on May 1, 2010.  Ones you may know include myself, Sweet Baboo, DreadPirate, Flamin' Mo, MG and his beloved Michi, Stitch, and Paul the Pilot.  Not all these folks have blogs.  

I went out yesterday with Courtney on my new favorite ride down to the Casino and back.  Why is it my new favorite ride?  Well, because it has a bit every everything in 26 miles: a long grind - about 6-7 miles up from the valley into the foothills, short intense climbs, some decent time-trialing stretches, and if you want, you can make it longer and extend the long grindy climb part.  It goes along a wide boulevard with wide, clean shoulders so my paranoia doesn't spike.  But, in case I do, I can always jump over onto a paved bike path.  Lastly, it starts and ends at my favorite place in the world: my house.  

My goals for IM-UTE simple: finish, maybe a little faster than I did before.  According to this calendar, sunrise on that day is 6:40 and sunset is at 8:22.  I'll be finishing in the dark.  I'm not sure what "none" means with respect to moonrise.  Maybe it rises while it's still light out, or something.  

I plan to work at getting better and faster  at this ride, then start doing it twice per ride.  I can also head out from this ride and do another good ride out 313 north to the San Felipe Pueblo.  I finally got my Garmin installed into the laptop that Baboo bought me for my birthday, so here's the profile for the training ride:

All of this is a no-excuses chance to work on my weakness over the next 12 months: cycling.   My goal at IM UTE would be to maybe average 15 mph over the course.  To do this, I'll have to work on climbing, particularly extended climbs.    

For running, I'm going to work on doing one flat pavement run, about a 
10K, once a week, for now.  Here's the profile.  It's the first and last 3 miles of the ride that I do, except that instead of being on the boulevard I'm on a paved running path.  I'll be slowly working my way up to a marathon-length run on pavement.  This route gives me refueling opportunities along the way.  I can get in a marathon distance easily by going out and back.  So, that's my long run.  All my shorter runs will be on dirt paths.  

My midpoint goal is Ironman 70.3 Buffalo Springs Lake, near Lubbuck, Texas.  It's hot and there's some climbs, so I'll be doing one training run after work and one ride after work each week, acclimating myself to riding and running in the heat.  

Tuesday, I go to see the endocrinologist.  I wonder what kind of doctor he'll be - will he say something like, "you need to scale back on your goals, they're too much for you."  Or, will he be the kind to say, "Let's see how we can make sure you get to your goals."?  Although I'm trying to be conservative in my hopes and dreams, I'm just hoping to have enough energy again to tackle the training I'll need to lose some of this weight.  I can lose my own weight; I just need the energy to do it.   

I'm also considering consulting a professional, degreed and certified nutritionist, as well.  I'm now a hypothyroid-vegetarian-perimenopausal-triathlete-endurance runner.  It's getting complicated.  


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Training, again. And other stuff.

Now that everything seems to be happy and healed (feet, ankles, tibia, IT Band, et cetera) I'm easing back into the training again. 

For now, I'm going to try to ride twice a week, getting used to being in the saddle again, and running 2-3 times a week, getting my legs used to being on pavement for one of those runs. The running is oh, so slow. I did a 10K pavement run on Monday, the longest p
avement since December, walking about 1/4 of it. My average pace was apalling, but it was faster than it's been in a long time.

What's great is that it's so much easier now.  Within a mile of the new house is a paved running path, a boulevard with wide, clean shoulders, and clean,
 dry, dirt running paths. Most of it is hilly, too. As a good friend says, I hate the hills, but love what t
hey do for me. 

My new training ride includes an extended 6 mile climb, and
 I'll be doing that often to get ready for IM-UTE. Here's the profile for that -->

I was planning a ride last night, but put it off because Baboo was gone Tuesday night. Why is that relevant, you ask. Well, I'm still getting used to the new house noises.  So about 11 pm, the cats knocked something over, and I was awake and paranoid and convinced that someone was trying to break in, and spent the rest of the night mostly awake, staring at the bedroom doorway, waiting for the intruder who was certainly in the house to kill me. Every creak and whisper in the house was my murderer, waiting to sneak up on me.

The next day, my normal bike day, I was exhausted all day - I even had that exhausted twitchy eyelid thing going -- so that by 3 pm I was ready to grab 
all my sugarless energy drink mix and pour it straight into my mouth like pixie stix powder. I complained to Baboo, who soon enough was home, as he said, to protect me against cats, plates, and things that go bump.
 I was exhausted and fell into bed which seems more like home with Baboo in it.  So no ride. See, it's all related.

Baboo brought this piece of art back from his trip --> 

(He may be a big tough ironman, but he's sentimental, too. ) 

The picture doesn't really do it justice.  

<-- Here's what it says in the middle, and you'll see why it's such a great piece for a couple of brand-new empty-nesters.  (There's more like it at

Here's another writing by the same artist that I thought was also especially appropriate for an endurance sports couple:

You may not remember 
the time you let me go first

Or the time you waited 
at the crossroads for me 
to catch up.

You may not remember 
any of those, but I do
& this is what I have to say to you:

today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together.

5 days to my endocrinologist appointment. I've heard he's nice.  I wonder if he gets hypothyroid patients as hyperactive and random as me.


On reference ranges, baselines, and symptoms.

This is kind of a long, rambling post, but I'm hoping it might be useful for someone.
So, yeah. That thyroid thing. I see it everywhere - it's human nature that if you get some sort of condition, you see it everywhere.
I didn't even order this test. It was just part of a routine physical. On my way out the door the nurse said, "he needs to talk to you about this," and I glanced at the paper in her hand: Thyroid Stim Hormone 8.02 (H). What's that? I asked. What the hell is a thyroid? I mean, I know we have one. What does it do? Is it like an appendix? Oh, so many questions.

There are reference ranges for everything in medicine. They are a start, but they aren't the whole story. What is normal for me is probably not normal for you, and that is why annual physicals are so important, because they help establish a baseline for what is "normal" for you, and spot sudden changes.

I've had regular physicals all my life, but changed doctors when I moved and rarely had my medical records fowarded. Why should I--I had your average, run-of-the-mill stuff: Asthma, allergies...the usual. I figued annual physcials were cross-sectional research, and didn't think much about the whole, "baseline functioning" thing.

In my reading, I've found that there are some common symptoms of low thyroid function, regardless of cause...and I've been looking back to see if perhaps I should have been paying more attention. That isn't so much useful to me, but maybe it's useful for someone else out there.

Have you been feeling cold? Well, yes, but who thinks this is a symptom? You put on your robe and your slippers and crank up the thermostat. On the other hand, Baboo and my multisport friends can attest that I've ditched a lot of bike rides because it was too cold. How can you guys ride when it's so freakin' cold out there?

Have you had dry skin and/or hair? I live in the desert, where the average humidity index is about 15%. Everyone's skin is dry here. You buy moisturizer. You deal with it.

Are you having weight problems?
THAT is an interesting question. The answer is, yes and no. In fact my weight has stayed even for the past 9 years. It is documented at my doctor's office; on average, it's hovered between 160 and 170. I even blogged about it.

So let's lay this out: In nine years, my weight has stayed steady. I became a runner, and then a triathlete, then a marathoner, and then an Ironman, and my weight stayed steady. While my eating wasn't always what it should be, it didn't change until early 2005 when the weight had really started piling on. I starting tracking my calories and lowering them to an average of 1800-2000 a day. I lost the weight I'd gained the past year. Then, I took up running but never lost another ounce.
In 2008, I trained for my 2nd ironman: In a week, I biked 60-100 miles, ran 15-20 miles, and swam 2 or so miles, minimum. My weight dropped to about 158, a size 10, which puts me in the "normal" range for my height. In other words, for me to be "normal weight," I had to train for an ironman.
Last year, I ran 7 marathons and an Ironman and several other events, and basically, my weight stayed steady. When my activity level dropped a bit, for me, I gained weight, even though, while injured, I was still more active than the average American. Hmm. I was stunned and disappointed at how quickly I was aging, but worked on accepting it. There wasn't anyone to ask about it; all my female relatives is dead, save one older sister.

Have you felt tired or depressed? There is some debate about this particular symptom - that the tired feeling is really a form of depression. Depression is a sneaky little bastard. There have been times that I haven't written about when I felt like I was near tears even when, arguably, I have the best life a woman could have. I told Baboo, "I don't know what's wrong with me, but it has to be chemical. Everything in my life makes me happy."

As for energy, from my doctor's standpoint, I am an active woman, so my energy level must be okay, right? RIGHT?

But lets look at my baseline functioning. I have always been hyperactive. I was diagnosed with AD/HD, combined type. My mother reported that, as a child, I was up at sunrise and up until nearly midnight throughout most of my childhood. From my elementary teachers straight through to my old college boyfriend, they will all tell you that I am hyper as hell. Between 1990 and 2000, on 6 hours of sleep per night, I worked part-time (20-30 hours a week), raised three kids, and finished my education all the way through a master's degree. This past decade, I have worked full time as a high school teacher, raised two teenagers, finished another master's degree, and trained for an ironman. This is my normal baseline functioning. Normal for me.

But, in the last couple of years, though, I've started complaining to Baboo. I need more sleep. I can't face those teenagers without more sleep. Another part of growing old, I thought. You slow down, right? It's what you do. I figured it was just a woman thing.

My doctor said, You do a lot for a woman your age - I'm surprised you don't need more sleep. I accepted it, and set about trying to get more rest. My friends protested this form of thinking, You're too young to be going through menopause.

Even now, as tired as I "feel," I am working full time, beginning a new season of training, and working on another master's degree. I need 7 or 8 hours of sleep these days, which is NOT normal for me, and I don't feel like working out most of the time. Not normal for me.

Do you have low heartrate?
My resting heart rate is about 57, but I'm a marathoner. There's no way to know if I have a clinically low heart rate or not.

Have you had decreased libido?
I've complained to my doc about it every single year. First I thought it was some medication I used to take. Then I thought it was menopause. It's gotten low for me, but again, what's low for me is low for me, probably not low for most women.

Now, this isn't some dramatic, life threatening condition - it has serious consequences, if left untreated, but I'm curious, so curious about what medication means. It's a quick and easy fix: I take medication, once the proper medication is targeted, and I take it on time, as directed. Maybe levels have to be adjusted from time to time. Blood tests everyone once in a while, which I can do on my lunch hour at the hospital next to where I work.

So, what happens next?

Well, I have an appointment with an endocrinologist on the 31st. ANd I have so many questions. Did I do this to myself? If my current functioning is "normal" for most women my age, what will happen when I take meds? Will I go back to the way I used to be? I said to Baboo the other night, "I don't care about anything else except that maybe I'll have more energy and I can be faster. I can lose my own weight, I just need the energy to do it."

How sick is it that all I care about is getting faster? Oh, I'm a multisport addict. I am, I am, I am.

So, yeah. That thyroid thing. If you feel like you're having menopause symptoms, (other than just the usual hot flashes) and it's very different from what is "normal" for you, and it bothers you but your doctor insists that you're within "normal" reference range, push for the test anyway. It's a simple blood test. The worst that can happen is you wear a purple band-aid for 20 minutes. That's all I'm saying.


Thursday, March 19, 2009

Irrelevant and unrelated stuff.

1. Window strikes. We have a big picture window in the back of the new house. It faces the foothills. It also reflects the sky, if you happen to be flying toward the house, as one unfortunate bird apparently was:
I allowed myself a laugh the first time because there wasn't a little feathered body lying on the patio; most were just a bit stunned and flew away. Then came the fateful day, a tiny lifeless body on the patio, and I hung wind chimes in front of the window. No more bird dust on the window, no more bodies, I keep my view.

2. Spoiled. I just can't come to this salon any more. It's too casual. It's a 45 minute drive to listen to people people yelling jokes to each other and screaming babies whose mommies weren't willing to put off their hair appointment until they could find a babysitter. The low point came when the owner, who was working on my hair, wanted to have the elderly and severely hyperopic shampoo lady do my color while my stylist did other things. (She's also the owner.) How do I know the shampoo lady is hyperopic? Because she did my pedicure once, and there was nail polish all over my toes. I hyperventilated, and she relented, but now begins the ardous journey of finding a new stylist. One who will devote their time to me fully. I have a bad feeling that devoted $tylist$ are more expen$ive than the other kind.

4. Girls Day Out. Last week, DP, SWTriGal, Cindy, and I went to Santa Fe for a girl's day out. It was close to my 44th birthday and I wanted to celebrate. We spent the morning at 10000 Waves, where we soaked in a hot tub in the snow in the mountains outside Santa Fe. Naked TriChicks in a hot tub! No, there are no naked tri-chick hot-tub pictures. Afterwards, I got my very first facial. I felt like I'd been dipped in valium. Now, of course, I'm thoroughly spoiled.

5. New shoes. I didn't buy these Borns last fall, and I've been thinking about them ever since. I couldn't get them off my mind. But that's not what makes them important.
What makes them important is that I'm wearing heels, with jeans, which I swore I would never do until I was a size 4. I'm not a size 4. I'm a size 12. And I'm wearing heels with jeans. Heel with Jeans. As long as I stay away from mirrors, I can teeter around feeling that I'm a size 4 and lanky.

6. I'm registered for Ironman St. George, 2010. Ulp. The interesting part will be getting iron-distance swims in during the winter.


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Something new to blog about.

Boys and girls, it's good to get an annual physical.
What the hell do I know anyway? All my concentration and recources are on brain stuff - psychopharmacology, psychiatric disorder, et cetera. The body is a very complicated thing, after all. Full of, well, innards. And junk. All wrapped up in each other, and who knows what all that stuff does or how it works. So, but, over the past three to five years, I've noticed some things that I chalked up to menopause stuff, even though most of my friends pointed out that I was way, way to young to have menopausal symptoms. I don't know if I'm menopausal because I had an operation 3 years ago to get rid of my periods, and it worked.

And then, there's the cold thing. I've always tended to have a core temperature that is a degree lower than "average". Over the past few months, especially, I was freezing. I just figured it was the new house, the new house was chilly. I didn't say anything because everything else was so perfect. I bought new slippers and tightened the belt on my robe and cranked up the thermostat even though, normally, I like the cold.

And then. The past six month, my weight has skyrocketed. I mean that the struggle I've had with my metabolism has gotten increasingly bad, but much more so in the past six months. I was naturally hyper and more-or-less thin most of my life, until about the last couple years. I decided that since I was older, I needed to eat less. And, I've gotten slower. Not just running, I FELT slower. and old. I've been complaining to Baboo that I've just felt so OLD. I chalked that one up to being middle-aged, too. Who wouldn't? Everything could be explained away, I figured, by me being lazy or old.

So then, today, I had my annual physical. Of interest to my doc, who has known me for nearly 10 years, was the results of my thyroid hormone test. The "normal" range, depending on the lab, is between .5 and 5, or .3 and 3. Mine was 8. Apparently, that is high. By some inverse relationship, that indicates low thyroidism. Cause, unknown. Follow-up work is ordered by my doc. I will follow-up, probably on my lunch hour tomorrow. Treatment, by the way, is simple, and effective, and not at all dramatic.

Meanwhile, get that physical, if you've been putting it off. Now. No, NOW. Who knows what your little aches, pains and annoyances might mean.


Monday, March 16, 2009

OMG, What are you DOING in there?

If it's Monday, I must be ranting about something.  It's not that I'm a negative person; I'm actually pretty positive.  It's just that there are some things that get under my skin and I can only vent about them here, where it's safe.

Today's rant is short. 

There is a single stall bathroom (WC, for our international friends) near my office.  Inevitably, I will need to go.  [Read: NEED TO GO.  Not, "want to go" not, "feel kinda like going"] because of course with all my goals for 2009 comes the extra water every day and I'm like a RACEHORSE these days, not that I'm sleek and fast but that, well, you know.

So there's no sign that lights up or anything saying, "occupied."  I come out of my office, walk confidently to the women's room, and grab that knob that doesn't turn.  

Okay.  Now.  The door knob makes an undeniable noise when it fails to turn.  It is then clear to all but the most hard-of-hearing person that someone just tried to walk into the bathroom, and is probably waiting.  I should know, because I'm hard-of-hearing, and I've heard it.  Sooooo, I lean against the wall for what seems to be an intermitably LONG time.  

OMG WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?  Why does it take women so long to use the bathroom?

I'm a chick, but C'MON!!  What the hell takes so long?  You sit, do your business, wipe, wash your hands, and LEAVE.  In fact, since it's a hospital, there's hand sanitizer every 2 feet: you don't even have to wash your hands.  JUST GET OUT!!
What else is there that could possibly be keeping you in there for such a long time?  

It's not just work that does it.  It happens everywhere.  SO.  I have become adept at simply walking out of line and going into the mensroom (only the ones that lock) becuase, I mean, what the hell people, I mean, it's probably violating some ordinance somewhere, but more often that not it has exactly the same facilities as the women's rooms, so why is there even a difference...

BTW, I will tell you that mens rooms, on the whole, are far more disgusting than you can imagine - filthier than women's rooms.  

But that's another subject for another day.


Tuesday, March 10, 2009

City Life.

I'm living in Albuquerque full time now and there are things about living in the city that are different from what I expected. Why is this a big deal? Because I have always lived in the suburbs. Always. I think I wrote about this once: mini-baboo was doing an acestry project, and asked me where "our people" were from. I told him, the suburbs. As long as there have been suburbs, there have been Our People.

Here are some things I've noticed about living in the city:

1. Freeways. I have always avoided these; mostly because it took forever to get to one. But now I live about a mile from I-40, and work about a mile from I25. Everything is a quick jump on the freeway. On, Off.

2. Just as DP promised, I am 15-20 minutes away from everything I want to do. Work, School, international food stores, organic hippie stores, far
mer's markets, used book stores, upscale hibrow fancy schmancy stores. Not so the suburbs, which are almost completely and insanely crowded big box chains and nothing interesting to see.

3. Diversity. There are interesting places where the signs are in some language I don't know, and I'm not just talking about Spanish. There are temples, markets, restaurants that serve food I've never had before. There are people who don't speak English and don't need to, because their whole neighborhood speaks their language.

4. Scary city parts.
Parts that, when I drive through them, I lock my doors and sit reeeeeeeal low. Parts where people walk across the street (and NOT at the crosswalk) staring me down, DARING me to hit them. They don't hurry. They saunter. So unlike the suburbs, where everyone is safe and nobody ever walks. It's interesting knowing that it exists. (Not interesting enough to hang out there, mind you.) We're talking about places where it's not all that unusual to maybe see a car on fire, and nobody's really paying attention, other than, "hey, kids, better stay away from that car, it's on fire."

5. Alternative transit. There is a single bus in the suburb where I used to live, for a population of over 60,000 people. Riding your bike was a dangerous proposition. There were few places to walk, and a higher liklihood of being run down by someone driving a HUMMER who had never been in the military and doesn't know how to drive one. Usually the HUMMER drivers are housewives on their way to their manicure. Where I live now, there are buses, sidewalks, bike lanes, and a train.

6. Places to walk and run. As I mentioned, it was hard to bike in the suburb where I lived. Running was similarly frustrating. Everything that was paved was the realm of the car, and never shall the runner dare to touch it. Baboo had cars swerve at him deliberately, just to mess with him. I've seen cars race to beat runners and cyclists to intersections. The cyclists in the Burque, though, are a little more organized, and more militant. Good for them. Meanwhile, there is a system of connected, paved, dedicated paths all throughout the city by which one can run, walk, or cycle pretty much to anywhere in the city, safely.

7. History. Albuquerque is 300 years old. Actually, it's been around longer than that, but the place known as, "Albuquerque" has been here for 300 years. I'm in the process of trying to learn what I can about it. My previous suburban city was incorporated around 1980. Cool.

8. Politics. without going into a lot of detail, while living in the suburbs I was basically that wild and crazy hippie vegetarian chick. Albuquerque, though, is a bastion of liberal thought, much of it far more weird that you can imagine and than I'm willing to entertain, and the end result is that, in Albuquerque, I come off as a boring, concrete soccer mom. But it's delightful, just delightful, the "Whirrled Peas" and, "COEXIST" bumber stickers.

9. My friends. Almost all my friends live here, on this side of the river. They are the best part, and they, like everything else, are all about 15-20 minutes away.
Oops! almost forgot:
10. Kitch. I. love. it. It's Route 66, it's Native American reservations, there's almost no end to the kitch .

Monday, March 09, 2009

OMG. Who ARE these people?

"...the grief that has enveloped me, and it's amazing. I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my cheeks, and I need someone somewhere that could tell me this is normal..."

The subject of my rant today is people "struggling" with the empty nest. I'm talking about deep, anguished writings by women who are trying to build a life outside of their children. Stuff like this (above) and throughout, which I've edited so that the original authors can't be identified.

OMG, WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? I started raising children at 19, and if you don't count a couple of my ex husbands, and the hundreds of students I've taught, I've raised three of them. Three children, who have by and large kept me hostage while they took everything I ever tried to have for myself: my favorite flavors of special K -I found three empty boxes in Mini's room while cleaning out the old house, and I've spent the weekend scrubbing boot black off stairs. This would be from JROTC combat boots.

"...I find myself wandering to his room, where I sit on the edge of his bed and thoughts of him run through my mind..."

I also found candy wrappers and old socks behind nearly every piece of furniture in his room...and also throughout the house. (And do we condone this? We do not.) Then, I packed up the car and drove to our new house, where I have cereal that will stay UNTIL I EAT IT and where, when I go to get something, it will be exactly where I left it. The only messes to clean are the ones that I myself have created.
Which carries its own challenges. But, anyway.

Am I a terrible mother who hates kids? I don't think so. I used to think I was - I tried apologizing to my grown children for their inconsistent upbringing and for being so crazy, but they've both assured me that I wasn't a bad mother, e.b., You should see some of the mothers my friends have, and they call and email me often enough to where I feel pretty assured that they don't have "issues." At least not yet.

I'll just say it: I feel like I've been let out of PRISON. Maybe I put too much into motherhood; I don't know. I felt like my job was to raise kids to be healthy, responsible individuals who could take care of themself and not need me and move on to live their lives. I stopped trying to get some meaning or reward out of parenthood long ago. I was my job, and when I enjoyed it, that was a bonus. But now I'm done.

"...As my son packed his things, my heart ached. Only a mother could know the anguish of saying goodbye, giving him wings so that the struggling baby bird can soar. I want to grab his little beak and say 'come back to your safe, loving, nest'..."

Good lord. To my children: I love you, but if you're coming for a visit, I want to see a return ticket before I let you in the door.

I come home at night, pour a glass of wine or a cup of coffee, sit on a clean couch, and look out at the foothills. Sometimes I go for a walk. I enjoy a quiet supper with Sweet Baboo. I'm in awe that life can be this good, even, and calm--devoid of any drama except that which I care to add.
There is nobody for me to ferry to an event. There is nobody to shove several pieces of paper at me at 6:45 am for my signature and/or checks to write, nobody to drop dirty clothes and books on the floor or tell me tearfully at 8 pm that they have to have 2 pieces of white posterboard RIGHT NOW or they will FAIL.

I bet this is the part where she says she misses all that.

I have a plaster cast of someone's handprint (I can't remember who) with a little poem attached that has a line or two about how much I'll miss their dirty handprints some day. I don't. Maybe that makes me a bad mom, but, that's something I'll have to live with, I guess, while sipping my chocolate wine and planning my next vacation.
I sit in my living room , watch a movie with the man I love, and there are no interruptions. The stereo has not been blown, the TV doesn't have smudgy smears on it, the cats are calm, because nobody has chased them with a paper sword that day or tried to stuff them into a box. There is low-fat ranch for my salad because nobody drank it straight from the bottle. There is chocolate milk for my mocha lattes because nobody drank the entire carton while sitting in front of the TV WHERE THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE EATING followed by putting the empty carton back into the refrigerator.

"...I miss having teenagers around...I would hear newest jokes and newest music. That has been the hardest....

The phone almost never rings, but when it does, it's for me, and it's not teachers or ex-spouses calling to let me know that my son or daughter is in trouble, failing a grade, or mouthing off to them. When the TV isn't on, I sit quietly and listen to music, or read.
I'm 44. Now my life begins.

"I guess I knew that it would be here sooner or later, like the terrible twos and the teenage years. Everybody goes through it, so why do I feel like my guts have been ripped out, thrown on the road, and run over by a truck?"

OMG, woman. Go for a run, or to spin class.


Thursday, March 05, 2009

Random and not-so-random stuff.

1. Physical therapy. I've been doing this twice a week for a couple weeks now. It involves of "tissue work," electrostimulation therapy (I think that's what it's called, and I'm too lazy to look up the correct terminology) and showing me stretches, which I am to do twice or three times a day. I am prescribed exercises to work on my hamstrings, abductors, and lower abdominals (every other day). oh, and the foam roller, twice a day (vomit).

2. Diet. I had a revelation, ala Alcoholics Anonymous in which I realized I have two choices: eat what I want and be a heavy runner, or limit what I eat and be a lighter runner. I chose the latter because I suspect that the extra weight is hard on my feet and joints. As I much like my feet and joints, I have decided I have to make the choice and get serious about what I eat.

3. New house. We are living at the new house full time and now that we've had people come and go and fix various things wrong with it, I am now seeing my evenings starting to free up so that I can start doing short runs after work. Next week we go back to daylight savings time, which means more light at the end of the day--yippee!

I HEART the new house. It is cozy, which means far less space to lose things in. Also, no stairs. YAY. It behooves me to let you know how much Baboo has spoiled me in furnishing this house. Seriously. He has.

4. After the laptop that I bought from CircuitCrappy died for the last and final time, Baboo bought me a new one, because he is awesome, and because he spoils me rotten, far more than I deserve.

5. Spring Has Sprung. >Hack, wheeze, cough, snifffff<

...The National Weather Service in Albuquerque has issued a WindAdvisory... which is in effect from 9 am this morning to 6 PM MSTthis evening. A tight surface pressure gradient is expected to develop across the region today. This will result in strong west to southwestwinds of 30 to 35 mph with gusts approaching 55 mph...


Another quiz

Inspired by DP. Only she knows why.
You Are a Drama Queen (or King)

And the oscar goes to... you! You're all about overreacting and just plain acting. You see the world as your stage, and give a great performance. And while you're friends may find you entertaining at times...Everyone's secretly hoping that you'll just chill a little.

(But they'd never tell you - they fear your wrath!)


Wednesday, March 04, 2009

What's YOUR score?


As a 1930s wife, I am

Take the test!

Once again, I find myself in the hump of the bell curve. What's your score?


 I'm no longer involved in multisport or endurance sports. I've started my own business, a psychotherapist specializing in anxiety d...