Matchmaking

Now that I'm officially single, I've been perusing some of the online dating sites; just browsing the aisles, checkin out what kinds of fish are out there. So I began creating a profile on one of the sites with the intention of posting it officially in a few months. You are supposed to post photos of yourself and just for fun I uploaded this one above until I could get a better picture taken. This one was taken at a historic firehouse museum I visited during a Small Museum tour of Portland by bike, it's one of those big cutouts that you stick your face in. I just picked this one because it's so dumb- I didn't actually intend to use this as my official photo, more like a private joke with myself.

So anyway, I happened to go by the site last night to browse the bachelors and I noticed a message on the page that said I had a wink! A 'wink' is what you can send for free to someone to express interest, so this took me a bit by surprise since I didn't realize anyone could see my portrait yet. And then it dawned on me that they saw the stupid fireman picture! And still winked at me! Oh holy crap!

Well, let's just say I've begun corresponding with the 'winker', and have paid my fees to the site, so now I guess I am officially back 'on the market'. So this should be interesting for the four of you who read my posts- you know I'm going to have some interesting adventures (and of course misadventures) to report. So stay tuned...

Almost an Athlete

BP = 113/75 Pulse = 55

Those beautiful numbers are my blood pressure today. I've been off my bp medicine for weeks now and it looks like she's holdin steady. And my doctor said I'd be on medicine for the rest of my life...pffftt. Eat your heart out doc!

My resting pulse is what really gets me though- a year ago my resting pulse was typically in the 80's and 90's, but now I've got a pulse closer to an athlete's pulse. So you know what that means?

I'm almost an athlete!

Athlete or even athletic is one of those descriptors I never thought I would use for myself, kinda like Astronaut, Philanthropist, Transvestite, etc., but here I am 20 years later after nearly failing the Presidential Fitness Test (passed only because of sympathetic gym teacher), and am almost an athlete. I'm not sure when or if I'll ever be comfortable enough to describe myself as such, maybe when I can finally do a pull-up, or maybe when I run a half-marathon, but I'll always probably think if myself as geeky bookworm with crafty proclivities who also happens to run. Not that it's important how we or others decide to label ourselves, but one of the most important things I learned in that transition from adolescence to adulthood (i.e., the 20's) was that it is what we do that defines who we are, not what we think we are or what we hope to be.

So if you run, you are a runner. If you make art, you are an artist. You don't have to be a particularly good artist to be considered one (think Jackson Pollock), nor do you have to be an elite or fast runner to be called a runner (and the term 'jogger' is so 1980's, so lets banish that term immediately).

Even if you go out for a 6 mile run, and only manage 5 miles (1 mile of which is walked) because you feel like such crap, and you come home and throw your shoe at the wall because you're so disgusted, you are still a runner. Sigh.

Ripping the Band-Aid

Well, B and Possum have finally moved out. After breaking up more than 6 months ago, we are now officially broken up. The reason it took so long is that we've got one of those weird relationships that was always more like a friendship than anything, and a very close friendship at that. We were one of those couples that could always finish the other's sentence, we never fought, and it was just really easy. So why did we break up? It was mainly about kids. I had decided that I would eventually like to start a family, whereas B decided that he has no interest in kids, so we knew then that we weren't the perfect match like we had previously thought. So, we decided to stay tight friends, and we thought we could continue to be roomies for awhile (since we don't know many people here), but we both would like to start dating again (okay, I'm not really looking forward to it, but it's gonna have to happen soon), and after long consideration and lots of advice from family and friends (and repeated phone calls from Mom), we decided to rip the band-aid.

We're still going to be close friends and riding buddies, so I'm not too sad about breaking up. But I am very sad about Possum. That's the worst part about it, you know? Oh well, cats always seem to come and go in my life, just like....well, you know. In the meantime, I've got the two old biddies to keep me company. They're not as much fun as Possum, but well, I can't exactly trade them in. (I tease!)

Stupid Brie

No loss this week.

(it was totally worth it)

Labor Day Weekend

Hey y'all, I sure have been busy this holiday weekend, laboring my way around Mt. Saint Helens (click on picture for more), and running an 8K race!

Friday we went for a hike around the famous volcano, and what a sight! The landscape is breathtaking for both its beauty and the absolute devastation. Twenty seven years later most of the north side still looks much like a lunar landscape, but vegetation is beginning to colonize, with the wildflowers the most dramatic; bright orange indian paintbrush and purple foxgloves (don't you just love that name?) against a backdrop of ashy grays. The trail we took was pretty quiet, and not too challenging, at least that's what I thought until the next day when I could hardly stand my calves were so sore. Great. And I've got a race to run.

After the hike we were planning on eating all our newly earned activity points at a steak joint, so we pulled very hungry into this place that advertised steaks, only to find a not-friendly-smokey-drunk-redneck type of place, so we get back in the car in search of another steak joint. But as we soon discovered, looking for restaurants in small towns while starving does not make for judicious dining decisions, so we ended up at Burgerville, where I ate...guess what? You got it, a burger. And onion rings....and a blackberry milkshake (only half of a small!). But, fear not, I was still within my weekly points range, so despite the greasefest, I didn't completely blow it.

This morning the fun continued as I ran the 5 mile portion of the Champoeg Half Marathon event in beautiful pastoral countryside. It was a pretty small race with what looked like less than 200 people, and only about 20 running the 5 mile. Which worried me a bit, because I was afraid I'd be last, but alas, I was probably about 12th or so, and I PR'd! I ran a 10.5 minute mile! Okay, not so very fast for most runners, actually considered a bit pokey, but for me, and other newbies like me, a very good time. I'm especially surprised because I had seriously damaged my calves hiking on Friday. I wonder if it's the hill workouts I've incorporated lately... I read an article recently that recommended hill repeats to improve speed. Not very much fun, but perhaps it pays off...

Anyway, I got my first medal (!) and of course the t-shirt, and a nice glowy feeling that took me all the way to the Nike outlet store for a new outfit as my reward. I'm actually wearing real running shorts after a year of baggy cutoff gym pants and old soccer shorts, and what a difference it makes. No more of the embarrassing 'crotch gather' and subsequent 'butt-pick'. I decided that I don't care if my legs are still a little on the jiggledy-wiggly side, I want to run and not think about my damn clothes.

So the weigh-in is tomorrow, and I'll let you know what happens, but don't expect too much because despite all the activity, this was a week of serious food debauchery. Next week shouldn't be too bad since I'm at home most of the week, with one day out by the airport in Albany *shudder*, so not too worried about temptations.