In which I attempt to be simple. Er.

Dear Diary,

13. Aid station. We ran the Cedro Peaks 45 mile and 45 k run aid station that was the first and the last aid station people came to on this run. At the end a woman came through, looking stunned. It's a hard damned run at 6500+ feet. She cried and when Baboo asked her if she needed anything, she said, "my husband. I need my husband." Baboo and mini-Baboo did much of the work, with stunned EMT trainees looking on, wondering when you ask these crazy running people to stop

12. Camping. Mr Boston and I camped overnight to ran the aid station for the Cedro Peaks 45-mile endurance run. Camping was much easier with a small grill and a cast iron dutch oven. A layer of bacon, then potatoes, then eggs, et voila. Brunch is served. I did feel bad for the 45-milers that ran through, smelling bacon. But not enough to share my bacon.

And as always, when I got home, I had fresh appreciation for my electricity and running water. But not for my clutter.

11. Marathons. Upcoming marathons include Shiprock (NM), Segahunda in New York, Memorial Day in Massachusetts, Marathon to Marathon in Iowa, and Swan Lake in South Dakota.

10. Dysfunctional families. Just because your kid is weird and bucks tradition doesn't mean s/he needs to be locked up.

9. Dysfunctional families, part 2. But if your kid is actively preying on people, s/he just might benefit from some down time in a secure facility with psychiatrists. Think it over.

8. But anyway, kids, don't do drugs. I've met several kids who are acutely psychotic because they went on a Spice binge, or EDT or some other designer drug. One of them didn't stop being psychotic and went to the state mental hospital. Another one spend much of our interview whispering to me and peering furtively out the window. These were high functioning kids before they decided to gamble in the brain cell lottery and lost.

7. Teeth. I had my last unsavable tooth pulled last week, and it as grueling. I was on pain killers for a week and didn't do much running. It had a very long root and to avoid harming the adjacent teeth, they banged on it woth a maul and mallet again so that they could shatter it inside my skull and extract the pieces. Yeah. I know. I'm working at Old Job for 30 hours a week through the end of May to maximize my dental benefits until then. I'm also working it so they can take more time to try to figure out how to replace me. YEAH, G'HEAD! TRY TO REPLACE ME. SHOULD HAVE PAID ME MORE FROM THE BEGINNING, INSTEAD OF TRYING TO COME FROM BEHIND AND OFFER ME MORE MONEY AT THE LAST MOMENT.

Ahem.

6. Tired. Working 1.5 jobs and trying to train for an ultra is not energizing. My run training is for shit. I think I'm going to have to just let the house go to hell. By the end if may I should be down to just one job.

5. Hokas. I bought a pair of Hokas. The first time I wore them my achilles ached. After that, no more problems. I wouldn't say they're fantastic though. The jury is still out. I'll take them on a trail run soon and then I'll write more.

4. Boston. Why is it the more expensive the hotel, the more likely they are to charge you for wifi? There is a lovely Fairfield Inn in Las Cruses New Mexico that would give the Renaissance Waterfront Mariott a run for its money. And the Fairfield Inn gives free wi-fi and a microwave.

Meanwhile.

The food was fabulous and Boston was fun. I had real clam chowder, a pizza at the original Reginas, and Canoli from Mike's. Yum. It's weird, I live in a town that is as old as Boston, but somehow, it was more interesting, historically.

i ran the B.A.A. 5k, in 29:56. Not my best time. Yikes. Guess I need to start running again.

3. The cheap project. I'm reading Miss Minimalist http://www.amazon.com/Miss-Minimalist-Inspiration-Declutter-ebook/dp/B0052UYJDC which, along with my desire to be cheap, includes a desire to declutter.

When we moved from a 2700 square foot home to a 1500 square foot home for the two of us (and ironically a twenty-something college student) we wound up with stuff. Lots of stuff. It overwhelms me and almost gives me a panic attack, all this stuff. I've shoved it out of sight into a storage shed out back, and back bedroom closets, and the garage. (i'm sorry, sweetie baby Baboo. I promise you WILL have your dream garage one of these days).

It's time for drastic measures. More on this as it developes.

2. Small triumphs. By and large the mist important accomplishment I pulled off Sunday was NOT a sub 10 minute mile time (my time was 29:56. Hmph) it was...

 

....wait for it....

 

.....wait for it...

 

The face that I wore flappy running shorts through it, comfortably. These are the kind with the built in panty and allows your thighs to touch. I wore them, and there are no chaffing. NORMAL SHORTS. NO CHAFFING. Boo-fucking-yah!!!!

1. Old. Er. I've noticed a tendency to need a mid day nap these days. About fifteen minutes, and then I'm fine, but until then I'm dragging. I'm not sure what this means. Do I need more sleep at night? Or do I need to detox from caffein? Frankly, I just don't know.

...

Why Not Try?

Dear Diary,

It's Monday, and i'm in Boston, and Sweet Baboo just left for his shuttle to the start line.

I've know people who have gone to races as spectators and been inspired to try harder. Honestly, after my first sprint triathlon, that's never happened to me. When I tried for harder, longer, faster (mostly longer, because faster requires a lot of discipline and hard work and remember, I. am lazy.) my trying was because of a race *I* had completed and, after collapsing into a nearby grassy knoll or into a bratwurst or into a lake, while floating with a beer (or piece of pizza, or ice cream, whatever) and savouring the moment of accomplishment i would think to myself, "I wonder what else I can do?"

The finish line, that's what I'm all about. It's why I have two (and in August, three) masters degrees. I like the idea of having done something that not a lot of people have done. I also like being able to eat all I want.

The result is that I'm fit, for my age. My doctor adores me because I'm one of the few that actually does what I'm supposed to do. The recent employee screening I had at New Job confirmed it. My sitting up, not resting, and slightly annoyed pulse rate was 60. Even though I do eat to excess, when I'm at home, I eat only lean meats, whole grains, and last fall I decided I would no longer drink alcohol (mostly because of my hideous genetics--in late 2006 my father became the sixth family member who got drunk and shot himself in the head).

For some Who. Is lazy., I picked an odd pastime. Running is the antipathy of lazy. It's hard. It makes me sweat--ew. It makes me smell bad. It's seriously cut into my vanity; I can either wash my long, unbleached hair hair twice per week, or wash my short, highlighted hair every day: I can't do both, and having my hair its natural color depresses me. I am that vain. So, I have short highlighted hair now because if I run, I have to wash my hair.

But being in Boston has inspired me. I'm just by the anticipation of Baboo's finish. I love marathons. Yes, they are hard, but they're generally over with in time for a nap and supper.

So. What does this mean? It means if I want to do Boston, I have to get faster.

I did my first marathon in January 2007, in 5:59. Back then, the emphasis was on being comfortable. I didn't do speed work, because it's hard. Not terribly worried about speed, I slowly whittled my time down to my current PR, run on a flat course on a cloudy cool day at sea level: 4:47, 4 years later. In 2007, I did my first ironman in 17:19. I took over an hour off that time when I finished my second ironman 9 months later.

I don't know how fast I could be, but I know that I've been surprised by what I've been able to pull off off just by putting my fork down and heading for a run. Or, by actually following a training plan.

At my current age, i have to do a marathon in 4:00 to be allowed to try to sign up for Boston. Eek. That means at least 47 minutes needs to be shaved off my best marathon time to qualify.

That means sticking to a training plan again.

That means being un-lazy.

That means being disciplined.

Running to work?

Running home from work (all uphills)

Wearing my hair in a pony tail most of the time.

Eating less fried chicken.

Working one job, instead of two 3/4 jobs.

Will I pull it off? Who knows? I won't cry if I don't. It's another journey.

Okay. Time to get to work!

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blogsy is pissing me off.

Twice my posts have disappeared before I posted them, and after I had written a substantial amount in them. Fuck this. Blogsy sucks. I'll post soon.

 

I posted a question on their facebutt page, too, which they deleted without replying. Niiiiiice.