Cranky Pants

I don't know what happened to me. I used to be a friendly, patient, tolerant person. At least so I thought. Yeah, not so much anymore. I've turned into a cranky, don't-touch-me!, old lady. I am frighteningly close to becoming a crazy cat lady hermit. How did this happen?

I think it started when I worked as a bartender, and I routinely saw the worst in people. Alcohol does really ugly things to our personalities, even when we think we're the most charming thing since Cary Grant. Trust me, from a bartenders perspective (a sober one that is), you are not charming. You are a slobbering, babbling child. And after a while, the only way to cope with these children is to join them in their drunken bubble. Which is what I did. Then I snapped out of it and got the hell out of that damn bubble. Now, I admit, it was the most fun job I ever had, and I met some fantastic people, made some lifelong friends, but it did help to tarnish my previously naive shiny perception of people. Part of it might just be growing older and less tolerant of irritating people, but wherever it came from isn't so much the point now. I gotta figure out how to get up with people again.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately because of my travel. I think I have disproportionate reactions to the annoying habits of complete strangers. Take last night for example; I was sitting at the gate in the Austin airport waiting for my plane to board, and a few seats down from me there was a gentleman who was breathing too loud. He did not appear to be sick, disabled, or obese, or anything like that, he just made too much noise when he breathed. But it was so annoying to me that I actually got up and moved to another seat. It wasn't like he was snoring loud or doing that really-annoying-snot-clearing-in-the-back-of-the-throat thing. He was just breathing for fucks sake!

I also get squirrelly on the plane when my seat mate's elbow touches me. And when someone stands too close behind me in line. Or when on the moving sidewalk, people who are clearly capable of walking, stand and don't walk. Is walking really that exhausting!? It's a moving sideWALK people! Shit! Move the fuck out of my goddamn way!

See what I mean? I'm a total Miss Cranky Pants.

Maybe it's a sign that I need a break from all this traveling and being around people. Maybe I should go stay at one of those monk retreats for awhile. Maybe I just need a vacation from airports and hotels.

Or maybe I should just get the fuck over myself and remember that I am not perfect either, and try to be more like Jesus or Buddha. It's so hard though! People are such a pain in the ass.

I just noticed that I used "fuck" and "Jesus" and "Buddha" in the same sentence, so in one fell swoop, I probably managed to offend most everyone, plus I am SO going to hell.

*********

Anyway, thought I'd just get that off my chest. In the meantime, to help me deal with my crankypants mood, I'm going on a seven mile run today as a kick in the pants, since I've hit a bit of a running plateau. I've gotten into a kind of comfortable groove of running four milers a few times a week, with a six miler as my long run. I haven't gone beyond six miles in part cause I'm skeered, but also because I took the half marathon off the schedule for Thanksgiving, and I haven't actually decided on a replacement, so I'm not actively training for one right now. I was considering Austin, but my schedule isn't looking good for that race. I may do one in May/June instead, and maybe I can convince my siblings and stepmom to run one with me. I know my sister will be itchin to work off the whole two pounds of her bebeh weight. And maybe Erin and Katy will be ready by next year to run that distance...(whatchoo think missies? :)

No major bike plans for the weekend. I opted out of a bike camping trip this weekend with ECT because they're goin all primitive and shit to the hot springs (damn!), since I'm more of a girly kinda camper. But I will probably go for a ride by myself tomorrow.

And as far as eatin news, I had some good eats in Austin this week, including two cupcakes (i totally get the craze now), but no BBQ or Tex-Mex. I know, it's a crime, but it just didn't work out this time.

And now that I'm back in my hood, I am anxious after my run to hit a newly opened bagel shop nearby that apparently makes real New York bagels (like boiled, ya know). Like BBQ, it is very dificult to find good bagels here in Portland, so I can't wait to find out if these are the bagels I've been missing. Hopefully it won't be necessary after all to open up my bagel joint, which I was planning to call Shiksas Bagels, but I'll let you know after I try one of theirs...

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.

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.

The Popcorn Incident

So, I promised I'd post about the Popcorn Incident of 2007, an event in the continuing saga of the not-so-savvy traveler, yours truly. Although it's really not so much an illustration of poor travel choices, but rather a demonstration of how cranky I get when I try to diet. But first a little background...

I began counting Weight Watcher points last week in an effort to finally once and for all get down to my drivers license weight. I had naively thought that running alone would do it, but I had reached a plateau since losing the 20 post-quit-smoking pounds. So B and I decided that if we can quit smoking together, then surely we can lose weight together (especially since we're still living together as roommates, and often eating together), so now we're in this together, which makes it sooo much easier. Especially since I don't go to the meetings, which engenders accountability and support, but can be really annoying. In the (almost) three years that we've lived with each other, I have attempted to diet approximately 12 times, and not to place blame on B, but my efforts have always been easily derailed by the innocent bag of cheese puffs lying on his desk, or the "hey, you wanna make some chili-cheese dip?" Very tough to resist. So imagine my delight (and surprise) when B (after seeing a shirtless picture of himself), decided to make a concerted effort to diet with me.

For those of you unfamiliar with the points system, it's Weight Watcher's proprietary method for calculating daily food limits- it combines calories, fat, and fiber to develop a point value for any given food item. And based on a chart of weight ranges, you are assigned a daily points target (mine is 24). Many have found it's actually more effective than just counting calories.

So we started last Sunday, and my first big test was in Los Angeles. So before departing, I stocked up on 100 calorie snack packs, fruit, instant oatmeal, and mini bags of low fat Kettle Corn popcorn (only 2 points per bag!). The popcorn being the most significant item, in case you haven't figured it out already. So my second night at the ghetto hotel, I got the munchies. And normally, I'd have plugged some change into one of the vending machines (part of the reason I can't seem to lose weight. go figure), but I remembered I'd packed a delicious low point treat: microwave popcorn! But, alas! No microwave in the room. So, I called down to the front desk to see if there were any microwaves in the building, and they told me the restaurant kitchen was the only place with microwaves, so I bopped down to the restaurant (it was after the dinner rush at this point), and asked one of the staff if there was any way they would be kind enough to pop my bag for 1 minute/thirty seconds. "We don't have no microwaves" (Huh?) "But, the front desk...", "We got a microwave in the employee lounge, but it's off limits to guests" (umm, thinking at this point, I'm paying 150.00 a night, and you won't let me use your damn microwave?) "Listen, I'm on a special diet and I'd really appreciate it if you could help me out here", "Well...okay, I get Tony to go up there for you", "Hey Tony!" So, Tony takes my bag (with a look that suggests he'd rather be text-messaging his pals, instead of helping this crazy chic) and nods his head when I say "just a minute and a half is all it takes, and thank you so much!" So, 5 minutes later (do you see where this is going?) he returns, sheepishly, with a bag that looks vaguely like mine, only if it had been torched to a crisp. He apologizes for burning my popcorn, but they will be happy to give me a bag of chips in return. I shake my head no, and take my shriveled, smelly bag out to the lobby and stuff it into the garbage, and trudge back to my room, fighting back tears (I'm telling you, the first week of a diet is hell on my emotions). I call B in a fit of rage and rant about the damn popcorn, and probably scare him a little. After I get off the phone, I dig through my stores, and wait! here's another bag! So, I head out to my rental, drive up to the 7-eleven, and pop my popcorn in their microwave, drive back to the hotel, and eat my damn popcorn. Looking back on it now, I see clearly that I am a crazy person. But dammit! It shouldn't be that hard to pop a damn bag of popcorn!

And yes, from now on I plan on requesting a microwave in my hotel rooms.

*****

And in case you're wondering - in a week I have lost two pounds and B has lost four. So unfair.

So, what lame excuse do you use?

For not exercising that is. I got a whole sleeve and hat full of 'em- we all do apparently (this has been a topic of conversation with friends and family lately). But this morning I was planning to tell myself to f*** off and get over it already and get the hell out of bed. So, it sorta worked since I actually went running this morning on a treadmill, at my hotel. See, normally I run in the late afternoon/evening, at home and on the road, cause I have a really hard time getting up in the morning early when I'm traveling, due to time zone shiftiness, and trouble falling asleep before midnight. But my new half marathon training calls for running 5 days a week, which means that I have to run on the road more than I'm used to, and that means the occasional morning run before I teach.

Anyway, this morning I had set my alarm to 5:30, planning on doing 3 miles, which would leave me just enough time to shower, change, and drink coffee, before my taxi arrived at 7:15. That would have worked beautifully if I had actually woken up at 5:30. When the phone started ringing (don't trust wake-up calls), the bad Peachy grabbed the alarm clock and somehow managed to wake up enough to turn it off and reschedule it for 6:15 (a pretty complicated maneuver, I might add), so the bad Peachy fell back asleep while the good Peachy attempted, unsuccessfully, to guilt the bad peachy into waking up to run. Well, it didn't work so well. But! When the 6:15 alarm went off, good Peachy punished bad Peachy by forcing her to put on running clothes and head straight down to the treadmill with no coffee for a quick run. Boy, was bad Peachy pissed. But, it turned out for the best, good and bad reconciled because the run was actually really good (although only managed two miles due to compromise with bad Peachy). I was sad to have to cut it off early, but also glad that I finally broke out of the old lame excuse of yore. So, I am going to try it again next week! In the meantime, I'm stickin to my usual early evening schedule, since I seem to do best at this time of day, although you never know, I may become a morning runner yet...

By the way, have I mentioned how much I hate the airlines? All of them. I was posting this entry at the Indianapolis airport when I heard my flight home was going to be way too late for me to make my connection home, so they kindly put me up for the night in a fleabag. At least I'm next to an Awful Waffle, which I've missed since leaving the South, so I just HAD to order a scattered, covered, smothered, and peppered, cooked very well. Yum. And Eww, all at the same time! How is that possible?

Me name is Hobble "The Gimp" McDodder...

AARRRRRR!!!

Why can't it be Talk Like a Pirate Day? I never feel like talking like a pirate when the day finally comes around. I'll bet me good friend Cutthroat Katie McKyle never has that problem. She's a REAL pirate. Not like me- I'm a pretend pirate.

Okay, cut me some slack folks, I ran SIX MILES today. So, I'm feelin a little woozy in de membrane.

So, I was a total pooz and slept through my alarm this morning, so I missed the group run (but I totally had a good excuse- I didn't get back from airport until late the night before, and that was after a day of missed connections due to stupid fog in Houston). But, I still ran the 6 miles later, with my own personal support vehicle (that'd be B on his bike of course) on the Springwater trail.

Gosh, it was hard.

I was really slow too- it took me an hour and fifteen, so I'm hoping to shave off a few minutes of that by the P'tree (also a 10K), but I'm not gonna cry if I can't, because I can run for longer than an hour! Absolutely blows my mind.

So now I'm really really sore (hence the title of this post)- will have to do yogurt tomorrow since I can't afford a massage, but yoga does the trick pretty good. And frozen peas. Can't forget the stupid peas.

In traveling news: I was in Montgomery Al for just one day, but I got to see the lovely and sparkely girls from Auburn (Diane and Laura) for an entertaining evening of margaritas and too many chips and salsa. Laura is graduating this week with a Masters degree in Landscape Architecture (and no, she said she won't do your backyard) and Diane is diligently (ahem) working on completing her PhD in Forestry- she's going to save our forests from nasty pollution (wave to everyone, girls). I'm so proud of them. I could just kick myself because they invited me to stay for one more day to accompany them to a Blues and BBQ fest the next day, which was really tempting, but I was concerned about not finding another flight out without having to pay too much in change fees, so I sadly declined...

...and then ended up stuck in a plane on the tarmac of the New Orleans airport for half the afternoon. And, yes I said New Orleans. That's because the flight from Montgomery couldn't land in Houston (my connecting city) due to fog, so the plane was diverted to New Orleans (sad flying over it by the way- still too many blue tarps) until the fog could clear up. By the time we were able to continue on, I'd missed my connecting flight, so had to hang out at the Houston airport for six hours. Doh! I could not stop thinking about how I could have been eating bbq and listening to excellent music sitting out in the grass on a beautiful southern spring day. Stupid!

Oh well. At least I had all of Season 2 of Grey's Anatomy on my computer (oh, I love me some pirates), so I settled in next to an outlet and watched 6 episodes back to back whilst fighting off other stranded passengers in the terminal who wanted to watch with me (not kidding).

So, it's good to finally be home, although I turn around in a few days and head to Baton Rouge. Should find some good eats there. Maybe I'll meet a Cajun pirate too! Maybe someone like Ragin Cajun Carville. Only not so creepy.

Orewar! (That's 'goodbye' in Creole, yo)

Land of Sweet Tea and BBQ

Did you know that Birmingham, Alabama has more bbq shops per capita than any other US city?

So, wouldn't it be silly if I didn't sample some of that dee-licious bbq while here?

Although 'sample' implies that I only tried a small amount...Pffft!

'Oh wait!' (Looks around) 'Did I click on the wrong link?' How did I end up on this bbq blog? I thought this was a blog about running!'

Sorry. Especially to those of you linking from the RBF. If you stick around here, you'll notice that there is not much I won't talk about, but I do try to mention running at least every other post. So, just for you RBF folks, let's talk about running...

I have some advice: don't run after guzzling a gallon of sweet tea. You will deeply regret it, and you'll be lucky if you don't hurl it up everywhere. Today I was to run 30 minutes- easy peasy, or so I thought... Shit! I only made it 25 minutes on the stupid machine before I had to stop or else I totally would have barfed all over cute European boy running next to me. Shit! Now he thinks I'm a total pooz. But it was SWEET tea!!! I have zero self control. I was waiting in the restaurant for my bbq to take back to my hotel room, and I hit the sweet tea refill jug about three times while waiting, cause it's SWEET tea! So, what is it? Is it the sugar or the caffeine that makes your tummy hurt so? I mean I can drink a gallon of water and not feel like hurling.

*****

Oh. Wow. I just completely burst into tears while sitting here minding my own business in the hotel room. I have the tv on (half watching "Shockwaves!: The Imus Effect!" - please shoot me now, cause Paula Zahn makes me want to stick things in my eye) and I just saw the ASPCA commercial that shows video clips of puppies and kittens looking so sad and sweet while Sarah Mclaughlin sings "In the Arms of an Angel" in the background. I barely managed to wipe the snot up before I called and donated $3,000.00 to the ASPCA. Okay, not really, but I want to save them all. I really did cry by the way. If you don't at least get a little choked up while watching that commercial, then you're the devil.

*****

ANYWAY. (Stupid tv) At least I managed 25 minutes- tomorrow I'll do 30. (I'm tryin to stick to the Pfit schedule, mkay?)

And I found my mantra (because 'just keep swimming' doesn't work for me, Brad). So, here it is: 'Run to eat bbq, run to eat bbq, run to eat bbq...'

Has kind of a nice cadence, dontcha think?

Hoppy Easter!

Get any yummy Peeps in yer basket? I got my Peeps last week when I was home, plus a lovely easter bonnet from Mom. Try putting the Peeps in the microwave for 10-15 seconds, and watch them turn into huge Stay-Puft marshmallow chicks. It's a great party trick.

I didn't go to church this morning (cause I'm a heathen), but I started the holy day today celebrating my one year anniversary of being smoke free by beginning marathon training with Portland/Vancouver Fit. I have to run with the Vancouver, Washington (no, not Vancouver BC) group on the other side of the Columbia on Sunday mornings, cause the Portland group runs are Saturday mornings, which are hard for me to make since I usually get home really late Friday night. But I'm actually kind of happy about that since I heard that approximately 1200 people showed up for the Portland run on Saturday, and there were only about 120 people this morning in the Vancouver group, which is much more manageable and intimate. I think I'll have a better chance connecting with some people in a smaller group.

So, we met outside this restaurant on the banks of the Columbia at 8am, and after a seminar on safety (don't run in front of cars), we split into three groups: the speedy colors of yellow, blue and green, the purple walkers, and my group, the poky red runners. Go red! (And actually, the reds are anyone who runs 10 minute miles or longer, so not necessarily all that pokey)

We ran for four miles today, and I chatted briefly here and there, but no connections yet with anyone, which is okay since there will be 24 more weeks of this to get to know folks better. After the run, one of the coaches (a physical therapist) led us in a group stretch, and promised that the massage therapist would be on hand starting next week (we get 5 minute massages as part of the deal). Which is good, since we're adding a mile every week, working our way up to 26 miles. YIKES!!! But I'm excited. There are many coaches and assistant coaches who run with us and are there to guide, inspire, and help us avoid injury while training. We've got a strict weekly schedule that we all follow together, which is running for a certain number of minutes three times during the week on our own, and then on the weekend we do our long mileage run together as a group. Plus we get t-shirts!

After the run, I took a long bath, cooked a healthy veggie scramble, then crashed with the cat for a long nap. So it's been a good day.

Hope yours has been too.

Yay Spring!

Okay, well, it's not official yet, but glory be, today was absolutely gorgeous! B and I went up to NE Portland so I could run in a new spot, Blue Lake, while B accompanied me on his bike (lazy bum).
It was a nice easy run through a really picturesque park (click on pic for link to more pics). After a 27 min run (don't ask), B took off to go on one of his epic bike rides (okay, not so lazy after all), while I got in the car to begin my quest for cheap bookcases.

No such luck finding bookcases, but I did buy some nifty running shorts at Goodwill, since I currently have been running in either tights or Target men's "active wear" pants. So I need some shorts. I highly recommend Goodwill for running wear, since it's possible to find the Cool Max stuff for a few bucks- compared to a bazillion bucks brand new. Anyway, after Goodwill, I headed to new apartment to drop another load off, and take some pictures...Isn't the daffodil just the perfect harbinger of spring? They're just so dang perky, and they practically scream "Hey everybody, IT'S SPRIIIIING!!"

These are a sentimental favorite of mine and my family, since years ago my grandfather planted hundreds and hundreds of bulbs in his huge front yard, so that come March, there would be acres of yellow bobbing heads for all the neighborhood to enjoy. He was well known around the community for his daffodils. So I think it's a sign of good luck that I have several blooming in my new backyard. Click on the daffodil pic for more shots of the new place.

What's the craziest thing you've ever done?

Something like signing up for marathon training when the furthest you've ever run is 4.5 miles, maybe? That'd be the craziest thing I've ever done for sure.

But on their website they say if you can run, walk, or crawl at least 3 miles, then this is the training program for you. Plus I've read many good things about Pfit. Now, the disclaimer: I don't intend to run a marathon this year. My goal is to run a half marathon sometime late summer/early fall, but train as if I'm running the Portland marathon in October. The purpose of signing up for this is that I need to make some friends out here, and what better way than to share the pain? Along with the added bonus of becoming a better runner.

I may sign up for this race in the Redwoods in October, since I went camping in that park last summer and didn't get to fully appreciate the grandeur due to annoying circumstances beyond my control. Holy smokes, that place is beautiful. And I rode my bike through much of the route when I was there, and let me tell you, it'll be a really really sweet running route- think shaded canopy of majestic, ancient, and HUGE redwoods. I'd take that over city streets any day.

So, I'm still moving stuff over to the new place, and getting excited (like girls will do) over silly things like what color curtains to hang in the kitchen, and not so silly things like how the hell am I going to fit all my small kitchen appliances in this tiny-ass kitchen? Erin, I promise, pictures are coming- I will probably need much advice from you about storage solutions (to those who don't know Erin- she's the maven of gettin-it-all-to-fit). During my usual coffee/morning internet perusal I stumbled across this fun site that has some nifty ideas for 'hacking' Ikea stuff, and making smaller places as efficient as possible. By the way, Portland is getting one in June...Eeeeeeeeee!!!!!! I hate to admit it, but I kinda like Ikea's stuff. Not so much for the style (I typically prefer the mexican flea market hodge-podge look), but for the inexpensive, sturdy functional pieces like shelves and cabinets. I hate their couches, but I'll probably have the coffee table I bought there for many many years (it has cubbyholes!). Has anyone else noticed how sucky their website is? It's impossible to navigate! Do you think that's a Dutch thing? It is about as comfortable to navigate as the stores themselves are, which are designed so that you cannot leave until you've walked through the entire store. They make the exits intentionally difficult to find, which I have a bit of a problem with, but I'll forgive them because their products are affordable, and they're pretty conscientious of sustainable methods of production.

Anyway, I must flee. Thanks for stoppin by!

Back in da Saddle

Well, I guess I'm healed! I did an easy 3 miler and had no shinny problems. Weird. Maybe it was not a shin splint, but something else. The pain was so bad, I could barely walk just a few days ago. Maybe it's a tumor?

So posts may be few and far between for the next week or so since I'm moving, but I'll be sure to pop in every once in a while to say "hey"- by the way, where's the comment love, people?! Mom?

So, the real test of shin begins in 30 minutes, where I get to kick some serious buttocks with my kickboxing homies. Hope he goes easy on us tonight....

LTFRMAO...

I hate those stupid abbreviations. So I'm going to make up my own, such as "laughing on the floor, rolling my ass off."

So, I just got back from Austin, TX last night. Had a nice time- fun students, good meals, my second favorite city in the country. Unfortunately, my hotel was in a northwest burb with nothing close by, and no car- really annoying. The hotel was stuck between a major interstate on one side and a railroad (with huge fence) on the other side, and even if there were places nearby, I wouldn't have been able to get there, because there were no DAMN SIDEWALKS. That kills me. I rarely have a car when I travel, so I have to rely either on cabs (expensive) or my feets to get me places. Also, since I'm traveling three days a week, I gotsta run on one or two of those days, and we all know by now how much I despise dreadmills, so it sucks when I'm in a dead zone with no access to neighborhoods or parks. What have we done to our landscape? Why do we hate pedestrians so? Ugh. Okay, enough with the rant.

Anyway, I lucked out the first night cause the hotel was putting on some promotional catered "social" with a rockabilly band and FREE BBQ!!! Jiminy Cricket, Batman! FREE BBQ!!! And it was goooood. Pulled pork with sweet/spicy baked beans, mustard potato salad, and chocolate cake. I listened to the band for a few minutes until they ran me out with a lame version of "Hot Rod Lincoln". Well, I guess any version of that song is lame. I hate that song. But, it could be because that song was on the jukebox at the bar I used to work at, and all the rockabilly boys had to play it every. damn. night. But, whatever. I got to eat good bbq. Which is a rare thing here in Soggytown.

The next night I took a very expensive cab ride to the South Congress Neighborhood to experience Austin's relatively new thing, First Thursday, an idea they got from Portland as a matter of fact. It's basically a big street party where they open galleries and shops up until late, artists sell their goods on the sidewalks, buskers converge, and street food vendors sell giant turkey legs. Austin is the only town I know where you can eat amazing chocolate cherry torte on the sidewalk while listening to a fantastic bluegrass band. And that was after eating the crack steak at a new restaurant, Woodland, which came highly recommended by one of my students. So, if you ever find yourself in Austin, you will not regret a meal from those folks.

So after eating 12,500 calories, I went shopping. I stopped into one of my favorite boot stores and panted over gorgeous vintage-style cowgirl boots (my graduation present from mom look like the third boots from the right on the top shelf, only they're red/yellow/blue),

but instead settled for these things (plus a "Texans for Obama 2008" t-shirt, not pictured)...

The red bull, "Ferdinand" (of course) was found at the exact same place I found "Edgar" the elephant, 5 years ago when mom and I went to Austin for the first time. Don't they make a cute couple?


B made fun of me for buying a "Georgia" glass in Texas. And he was not at all impressed by the pink cat nail brush (with a tounge for really digging under the nail). I think it's the cutest thing EVER.

So, for those of you wondering after the debauchery of steaks and torte's, "well, did she run?" I can say with pride, yes. I ran. I only lasted 40 minutes on the dreadmill (10 of that was walking). I just don't have the mental fortitude for the incredible boredom of running in place.

So I plan on another hour run tomorrow, maybe with 5-10 minutes added, so I can work up to the 10K distance. I wanted to run today, but (WARNING: gross bodily function description ahead) I ate some jelly beans with Splenda earlier today, feeling very virtuous, until an hour later, pure liquid was pouring out of my rear. I thought for some reason that if it had Splenda in it, then it wouldn't have that evil Maltitol in it, which causes many folks to have torrential anal explosions. I was so wrong. So, I've been close to a potty for much of the day. B and I had been talking earlier about the herb Stevia; he wanted to know why it wasn't used as a sweetener in grocery products. I told him that the FDA banned its use as a food product, probably because of the sugar (and artificial sweetener?) lobby. So after my episode, he pointed out the irony that the FDA would approve a sweetener that causes explosive diarrhea, but wouldn't approve a harmless leaf to be used as a sweetener, which has been used safely in other countries for years.

In happier news, I got some really exciting news a few nights ago, from soon-to-be grandparents (again) of a baby on the way! I'm going to be an auntie again!!! Yay!!!! My little sister M is having a tot in the early fall. How much fun is that! Now, my niece, the angelic Hannah, will finally have a cousin, since her Auntie P-town Peach, does not yet appear to be ready for mommyhood.

Seems to be a bug goin around- my dear friend, Erin (whose most embarrassing song is Journey's "Open Arms") back in the ATL just had a drop-dead gorgeous baby girl several weeks ago. Meet Elise Jewell... (and no, that is not a wig.)

One Hour Runner!

I made it! Broke the four mile barrier!! Got back from Denver last night, had the first good night's sleep in a while (with no help from pharmaceuticals), B. and I took the cats to the vet, came back, took a nap (wore out from the vet experience), then got up, saw blue skies (!), and went for a jog. B. rode his bike with me and kept me entertained by pointing out every cat he saw. So I ran for an hour with a few minute break halfway at the community center to take care of a sudden clenching in the gut (boy, am I happy I can run in a neighborhood with plenty of toilets- one of these days I will tell the story of getting the runner's trots in the corn fields of Indiana...*shudder*), so my time is still really pokey, but I don't care. I ran for one hour. Yay!

Queen City of the Plains

So I'm in Denver for the next few days. No big plans for excitement, just teach my two classes and skedaddle.

Why is the Denver airport in Nebraska? And why is it every time I'm here I end up on the ugly side of town (although the view from my room isn't too shabby if you ignore the big boxes from hell)?

At least I don't have to look at this.

In fitness news: Tomorrow I will probably hop on the dreadmill (since I'm in scary burbs surrounded by highways and no car to get to a nice park) and try to break the four mile barrier. Not only do I have dear brother (click with caution) to contend with, but I've also got dear step-mom and sister triathletes (not kidding) to deal with. I know, I know, we must all run our own race, but a little interfamilial competition is healthy and natural. I'm resting today since I can barely walk after personal training session with Caligula. I know a personal trainer seems a little extravagant, but the "gym" I just joined (it's not a typical gym- more like a martial-art-kickboxing-yoga mecca) had a really good deal, and I thought a little help in the weights department would be a good thing. Turns out, he's eventually gonna help me be a faster runner, but that's down the road a-ways. So, anyway, had kickboxing class on Monday, ran the next day, plus had training session with The Evil One later that day- oh! and I forgot to mention a teensy-weensy 40 mile bike ride that I took with B. on Saturday. So my legs are screamin- and that's after two ice baths this week! When will it stop? And speaking of ice baths: if you're ever in the mood for a lively pick-me-up, I can't recommend ice baths enough. They're a lotta fun- especially for whomever is close enough to hear the ear-piercing wails through the bathroom door.

In food news: Being East coast girl, I wasn't really aware of the Trader Joe's phenomenon, but since I've moved out here I'm beginning to understand the hooplah. Right now my most favorite quick 'n easy eat healthy at home foods are TJ's frozen brown rice and their Greek mango and apricot yogurt (not together mind you). Holy smokes! As Rachel Ray (whose laugh apparently requires the punch of a unicorn), would say, "delish"! Apparently, TJ's have begun opening shops in the ATL, so y'all back home can check it out for yourselves.

In other news: I'm moving in a few weeks to a new apartment due to not-really-sad-but-it's actually-a-really-good-thing redefining of my current relationship from boyfriend-girlfriend to let's just be pals. We're so much alike that it was a completely mutual thing. So, anyway, we're gettin separate pads, and mine is in this excellent neighborhood- Sellwood/Moreland- just a few minutes away from where I am now. My apartment (see pic below) is a block from cutesie coffee shops, restaurants, antiquey boutiques, ect (kinda like a small, more laid-back Va-Hi for my ATL homies). The only downside is that there is a coffee roaster right across the street, so it will perpetually smell like burnt toast, but the coffee's supposed to be good, so might be a fair trade-off.

Now, it looks like I've got some kooky neighbors (not unusual in this town) who like giant ironic sculptures in their front yard, which could be a lotta fun, but probably not nearly as much fun as these guys. A few more blocks away is access to Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge and the famous multi-use Springwater Corridor trail (on which I was running the other day when it began to HAIL!)Anyway, it's a trail that runs along the east bank of the Willamette River for several miles, and is one of my favorite Portland things. It's along this trail that I catch myself saying things like, "I love this friggin town!"

Well, that's enough ramblin' for the night, gotta hits de hay. Nighty-night friends.

La la la la la la la means I love you...

Per Jen's request, here they are. I'm so smitten by my new shoes. It's hard to tell from the pic, but the soles are neon lemony-lime. They are certainly show stoppers.

So the picture is a great way to illustrate my transformation from cynical-high-blood pressure- smoking-grouchy-grouch-road-ragey-sour-puss to Let-the-sun-shine-in-happy-technicolor-mood-no-I've-not-replaced -one-smoke-for-another-
cheerful-type. Part of that transformation came from moving out here to Puddletown from Get-the-F!$%-Out-of-My-Way Capitol of the South, but more significantly, I've been transformed by my newfound addiction: running. It all started when my dear brother put down the smokes and picked up a pair of shoes. So since I can't come up with an original idea of my own, I thought, what a great way to lose the extra 20 I gained from quitting smoking. But the real clincher: after Dad had some major scary heart issues (also an ex-smoker) last year, the family decided wouldn't it be fun to celebrate our new status as healthy non-smokers by running the Peachtree Road Race in ATL in '07. Yeah. A blast.

But it was like a double dog dare, so last October I went and got fitted for shoes (no, I don't run in the Sesame Street shoes pictured above), followed the Couch-to-5-K plan, finished it (!), ran/walked a 5K, then began the One Hour Runner plan, and now, I'm on week 7. Running. Not fast mind you, but Webster's defines running as "to go by moving the legs faster than in walking", so I'm not going to quibble over jog vs. shuffle vs. run. Whatever. All I know is that my heart pounds, my face turns bright red, and my brain screams "WHAT THE !@#$ ARE YOU DOING?!".

So since I've gotten past the initial shock of running (I can now shut the brain up on occasion), I have discoved the lovely floaty cheerful feeling that lasts for the rest of the day, and typically annoys anyone around me ("Why are you so f'ing happy"?)

In addition, since last Oct, I've lost 10 pounds of the post-smoking god-I-can't stop-putting-things-in-my-mouth phase, but more importantly, I'm happier than I've ever been, and most importantly of all, I now have a smidgen of a chance to smoke my brother at the Peachtree this July (oh, it's so on now).

Be the shoes.

Update: Didn't like the grandma's wallpaper template, so I'm trying out the kermit one instead for awhile. Lemmee know if it's gross.