Puppy Love

It's hard not to share a good thing.  And this video is ooeey gooey goodness in a puppy's sweet face.

So, in honor of this wonderful time of year, when hearts are exploding in happiness and love, please enjoy these adorable pups.  It's hard not to be in the Christmas spirit after watching it.

Thoughts of Today

1. Between this blog, Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest, my journal has been sadly neglected lately.  I haven't written much of anything in it beyond my Christmas shopping list.  Although I like having a hard-copy documentation of my life, I am oddly ok with it being empty as of late.  It means that my life is good and busy and I'm not afraid to tell the world what is going on.  One of my earlier relationships ate up a lot of my journal space because I wasn't necessarily sure of where things were going (and didn't want to share my hesitations).  But this new, fantastic, heart-filling relationship has got me shouting lovelys from the rooftop (and this blog).

2. I've failed two three days in a row in getting up early to go run.  Two Three days!  I did a long 10-mile run on Saturday that was really, really satisfying.  Each mile after the first one were under 8 min. (and hovered right around 7:30), so I was really happy with that.  But since then, when that alarm goes off at 5 am, I have ignored it.  Why?  Shouldn't the fear of the looming half-marathon be enough to jolt me out of my sweet, warm hibernation?  Apparently not.

3. My mom sent me this photo earlier in the day.  Oh, how homesick it made me.  I want to feel the snow crunch gently under my boots and see the pawprints of little animals in the snow around the ditches.  I want my nose to turn red when I go outside because it is nippy.  I want to wear a jacket, scarf and hat because I have to, not because it is fashionable.

4. I didn't put up a Christmas tree this year for a few reasons.  First, Austin.  Enough said.  Secondly, it seemed kind of like a big hassle for only a few weeks.  But because of this, please see No. 3...that is how I feel when I get back to the apartment and there aren't any twinkling lights to greet me.

5. One day, I'll slowly dance around my dimly-lit living room with my sweethear to Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song."  The tree will be twinkling, casting soft shadows on the walls.  And it will be perfect.

6. I can't believe that the half marathon is in one month + one day.  I am neither excited nor scared.  At this point, I am just focused on getting in a few more long runs between now and then.  Scheduling them in-between parties, heels, brunches, packing, wrapping, Christmas and New Years is a job unto itself. 

7. Our company is moving to Hermosa Beach two days after the half marathon.  I am so excited for this move because the new building is about 1.5 miles from my house.  I can ride my bike to work everyday!  You know how much money I am going to save on gas?!  Oh, yeah, and I guess save the environment, too.

H2O

I am pretty good at staying hydrated.  As evidenced by about ten water bottles in my house, I am not afraid to guzzle or chug or gulp down the good stuff.

But with the half marathon around the corner, I want to do my best to drink as much water as I can during the day to fight off the random headaches and sleepy feelings one gets when not drinking enough.  Especially on the mornings I run,  I get distracted by tea and coffee at work when I should be drinking water.

My friend had sent me this spiffy water bottle for my birthday a few months ago. When I first saw it, I was skeptical.  Wouldn't you be?  It looks funny.

This is the Hydracoach bottle.  It has a timer in the bottle and also tracks how much water you drink in any given time.  When this photo was taken, I had swallowed 60 oz. of water in almost 7 hours.  Initially, I thought to myself, "Why do I need a bottle to tell me how much I'm drinking? As long as I continue to fill a bottle up, I should be good."  But like I said before, with the big race coming up, I wanted to actually make myself drink water.

And what better way to do that then with a bottle that is staring back at you...counting up the seconds...almost warning you that you're not drinking enough.  It shows your average oz./hour consumption and I hate to see it start dropping...gotta keep the numbers up!

I'm going to try to use this water bottle exclusively for the next month to really stay on top of being hydrated.  Hopefully I become motivated by actually seeing my daily water consumption.

P.S. More bathroom trips are in my future.

To You, I Ask

Questions that I ask in preparation for the half marathon:

1. What am I going to wear?

2. What am I going to eat before the race?

3. What am I going to eat the week before the race?

4. At what mileage should I peak?

5.  How long does my longest long run before the race need to be?

6. Is it going to hurt?

7. Ok, duh, it's going to hurt, but will I be able to push through?

8. Am I crazy?

9. I'm crazy.  I'm crazy.  Can I get out of this somehow?

10. Calm down.  There's no question here, just some deep breathing.

11. Are my feet going to be able to handle 13.1 miles?

12. Do I need to start working out my arms more to handle the pumping of that distance?

13. Can I sleep the whole Saturday before the race?

14. Can I sleep the whole week after the race?

15.  Can I sleep right now?

16. Do I need to watch what I eat during the holidays in preparation for the race?

17. Does that mean I can't have Christmas cookies?

18. What about egg nog?  It's healthy, right?

19. What's the weather going to be like?

20. What am I going to wear (part two)?

21. What if it rains?

22. How much is this race going to rock? 

Here We Go

Taking deep breaths...

Just registered for the 13.1® Los Angeles half marathon. 

Wow.  This is now real.  I have no choice but to train.  I can't back out.

I'm pretty sure the Rocky song will be replayed many times between now and then to pump myself up.

A Helium-Filled Holiday

Source

One of my life goals is to make it to see the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade live.  Growing up, watching the parade was always one of the things that we squeezed into turkey day, right between the homemade cranberry sauce and chili bread.

I want to see the huge balloons anchored by armies of balloon holders (how does one get that job, by the way?).

I want to bundle up in a jacket and cute scarf.  I want to sip hot chocolate and hold the boy's hand in the street.

The parade always ushers in the real (not fake and overly extended) holiday season; if Santa makes an appearance at the parade, then by gosh, Christmas is on its way.

Warm wishes and big balloon hugs to everyone on this holiday!

Big Confidence Boost

Source

Things have been a little crazy lately...spending time with the boy...visiting friends...dog sitting (walking three dogs at a time can be complicated)...staying out of the rain...learning...getting ready for Thanksgiving...Christmas-gift shopping...

But you know what happened on Sunday?  I went for an 8 mile run and I felt A-to-the-MAZING!  That was the longest run I've done in a really, really long time.  I got caught in a short downpour that made things interesting, but overall, my body was diggin' the run and working smoothly.  My overall time was good and I can't wait to hook my Garmin watch up to the computer to see my splits.

This was a huge confidence boost for me in my hopes to do a half marathon in mid-January.  I think in the next few days I am going to put together a more concrete training schedule so I make sure to build up to 10, 11 or even 12 miles before the race. 

Knowing that all of the major holidays are in between now and the half-marathon is a little daunting.  But when I worry or am unsure, I am going to think back to Sunday's run.  Because there's almost nothing better than knowing you knocked out 8 miles (and felt strong doing it) before most people had their first cup of coffee!

Am I Crazy?

Source

13.1® Los Angeles.

Jan. 15, 2012.

Two months from today.

Do I have time to train?

Will my body let me train?

Am I crazy to train?

I'm excited.

I'm apprehensive.

I'm scared out of my mind.

But after morning run...I'm feeling confident.

A few more days to sleep on it before I register.

It's now or never, right?

I Like You Too Much

I talk a lot about love on this blog.  Love for running.  Love for Austin.  Love for the boy that makes my heart smile.  And it's true.  I believe 100% in the power of love.

What I've found out in the last few weeks, though, is that love doesn't have to be shouted from rooftops or made into large, grand gestures. 

Love is ... reading side by side, knowing that the silence between the two of us is comfortable and warm.  When I think about my future, this is exactly what I see.  I hope to be reading next to this boy for the rest of my life.  We've got a ton of books to get through. 

Love is ... doing laundry together and laughing when one of my shirts ends up in his basket.

Love is ... splitting a dinner instead of ordering two.

Love is ... letting him park in my garage parking spot so he doesn't have to hunt around for an open space on the street.

Love is ... sending interesting articles to one another in the middle of the day because while you are reading said article, your mind immediately thinks of him.

Love is ... thinking about him all day.

Love is ... adding in some yummy toffee to his bag of leftover food for him to take home.  It's a sweet surprise!

Love is ... seeing the pup perk up when he hears the boy's car lock sound.  Yes, Austin knows exactly which beep comes from his favorite wrestling buddy's car.

Love is ... watching my two boys wrestle.

Love is ... saying 'I'm sorry for being a jerk' and then sealing that forgiveness with a kiss.

Love is ... him hi-fiving me when I say I ran three times last week.

Love is ... wanting to spend every waking minute with him and cherishing the ones that you actually do get to spend together.


I know, I know.  It's all super sappy.  But I feel like we are at a point in our relationship where everything is special with him.  I'm still wearing my love-tinted glasses.  To be honest, I hope I never have to take them off.

Thank You

Click for source

Google "pictures of soldiers" and many of the resulting images show soldiers and puppies.  Playing with them.  Feeding them.  Pups in the soldier's fatigue pockets.

I immediately smiled at these pictures.  And I couldn't help but wonder whether my boyfriend had ever found small pleasures like playing with street puppy while he was deployed.  I knew, though, that that Google search was barely scratching the surface of all of the pictures of war.  These were the happy pictures, the ones that we all fall in love with.  We all hope that those photos portray what war is - scary enough to have to carry around a gun, but stable enough to be able to find time to play with puppies.

Google "soldiers crying" and war becomes more real (as real as Googling images from the comfort of a climate-controlled building can be).  That is where the true, raw emotion comes through, the unrestrained sadness and grief.  These are the pictures that scare the living daylights out of me.  Why?  Because I imagine my boyfriend in those situations.  I imagine him seeing the same things that caused the soldiers in the pictures to shed those tears.  I imagine him being vulnerable and shaken, being rocked to his core by something as powerful as death.  And my breath catches.

Click for source

I'm still learning about the military, about what it means to be a Ranger, and how a soldier deals with the tragedy that is guaranteed.  I understand that I will never know everything.  And of course, I will never understand the feelings and thoughts and relationships that form while in war.

But I can be supportive and thankful.  And that extends beyond people who are in relationships with soldiers.  Sometimes, we just have to think of our soldiers & veterans like the puppies in the pictures.  They're scared and sometimes helpless.  What they probably need most is a hug.  And a lot of lovin'.

Click for source

Fast Girls Finish First

Firehiwot Dado of Ethiopia wins the 2011 NYC Marathon

 

I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye.  I could immediately tell she was a runner.  Not just a person who runs to lose weight or to clear her head (although those are always nice perks).  No, she was someone who had speed and had probably run while in college.  She had a purpose to each step and held her body in such a way that seemed comfortable, like she had had that same running form for years.  I watched her as she ran out of my line of sight.  She was fast.

As someone who considers herself a "runner," it's hard not to notice the fast girls that are in my neighborhood.  And to my surprise, there are a few.  There's the one I saw this morning (blonde ponytail, has a small dog she walks in the morning).  There's also a smaller chick with long brown hair who wears it in a braid.  She always runs in the road (which I think is one of the signs to spot a "real" runner).  And then there is a middle-aged woman who wears shortie shorts, but I haven't seen her in a while...maybe she moved.

Yes, I've made some stereotypes here of who a real runner is and the tendencies of such a person.  But these are the girls who get up early to squeeze in their run before the rest of the day happens.  These are the girls who probably eat well and often, but aren't afraid to down a few beers or an ice cream sandwich (like I did this weekend).  They cherish their GPS watch and favorite running bra, but still like to get all fancied up for a night with their special someone.

Sometimes, I consider myself one of them, one of a small group of women who aren't afraid to run in the dark or in the rain (like I did this weekend).  When people casually mention that they run, I have to throw my two cents in and one-up them.  You ran five miles yesterday?  Well, I ran five miles...uphill yesterday.

But sometimes, I am not them.  I lack motivation.  I don't have a set training plan to follow.  I eat one too many cookies even though I know I should stop reaching for them.  Sometimes, I take a week off  for the heck of it because I just don't feel like running. 

When I catch glimpses of these fast runners, I'm jealous.  They always look like they have a purpose to their running, like they know exactly what they are doing and what their mile splits are for each of the five routes they have around town.  I want their resolve to train for something big, for not being afraid to push to the absolute brink of exhaustion, both mentally and physically.  I want their swagger and confidence when they say, "Yeah, I'm a runner" because deep down, they know that running is their gift, their talent that other people just don't have, but something that others crave.

Maybe I'm a fast-girl-in-training.  Maybe I need to focus my mind and create a real training schedule for myself.  Maybe I need to work on my speed so that the next time someone sees me, they think...wow, she's fast.  And I'll feel confident enough to know they are right.

Come Live in My Heart

From InspiredMess

 
While in a meeting, my boss posed the question, what's most important to you and why?  He said it was a hard question and that the answer shouldn't come right away - it was one of those prompts that require brewing (or is it stewing?).

I found this to be a ridiculously easy question and my answer came soon after I started thinking about it.

Love is what is most important, after all.  And don't fall into the trap of thinking that "love" means what happens between two adult people who want to spend their whole lives together.   That's only part of it.  Think of how each of those balloons makes up your heart - there are so many opportunities to show your true love and grow your heart.

Appreciate yourself for all of the things that you as a person can accomplish, can feel and can brave.  Loving yourself and every part of what makes you a unique individual is the foundation for other people loving you.

Taking pleasure in being pushed and challenged means that you will appreciate the outcome when you can raise your hands over your head and say, "I totally and completely conquered that and I loved every second of it."

Revel in simple, quiet moments when the world is spinning right on its axis.  You will love how perfect your life is at that exact second.  And don't ever be ashamed of feeling good about how well your life is progressing. 

Learn how to love each person that you encounter.  You don't have to like each and every part of them, but understand their good qualities.  Everyone has a talent or a gift, you just have to seek it out.  

Give of yourself, for in that sacrifice, you are loving. Period.

Don't be afraid to find a soul mate.  Don't be afraid to open your heart.  Don't be afraid that love will hurt.  Because it will.  But it will also be amazing.  So very amazing...

It's ok to be in love with things.  Like you iPad.  Or your cute shoes.  Or your favorite book.  Just don't show them more lovin' than special people in your life.

Speaking of those peeps - if they are in your life, they deserve all of the love that springs from your heart.  Remind them, tell them, shout at them; whatever it takes, make sure they know how much they mean to you.

Just remember, without love, babies wouldn't be born.  Without love, there wouldn't be BFFs.  Without love, we wouldn't have people dedicating their lives to great causes.  It's a really simple thing to do, once you boil down all of the unnecessary clutter of the fake stuff. 

“Come live in my heart, and pay no rent.”
--Samuel Lover           

Instant Metamorphosis

Sometimes, all you need is 2 inches to make you feel completely different.  A cute outfit will also work wonders.

That's what happened yesterday.  Normally, I'm a slacks-and-flats kind of working gal.  But for some reason, I had this urge to bust out a pair of cute heels and a trendy top with black skinny jeans.

I felt powerful.

I felt beautiful.

I felt sexy.

I felt taller.

I felt desirable.

I felt like I could conquer the world.

And seriously, this was all because of the heels.  Maybe it's because we have been programmed to think that strong women can run around all day in 3-inch Manolo Blahnik's.  If they can suffer in uncomfortable heels at an uncomfortable angle for an uncomfortably long time, they must be able to do anything.

While I am in the camp of strong women being able to be strong women in whatever clothes they want (my preference is a gray t-shirt and jeans), there is really something magical about heels.  Ok, maybe it's just my experience with heels, as I don't wear them that often and when I do, there's a reason for me to be in them (see: wedding, fancy schmancy dinner or dancing).

Yes, I run in minimalist shoes.  Yes, I don't mind getting sweaty.  And of course, I'd rather read a good book late into the night than go out to a club.  But, I'm still a girl and I still love to dress up and feel like a million bucks.

And who couldn't feel like that with these beauts on.  The lacing up to the bow is the best part - I can't get enough of it.

It's safe to say that I won't be wearing heels every day to work...that's insane.  I run around too much and I really don't want to do irreversible damage to my body by being in heels all the time.  But every now and again, when that inkling comes along, you'll be certain to find me clip-clipping through the lobby...making the noise of a powerful woman in a rockin' pair of heels.

"Shoes are the quickest way for women to achieve instant metamorphosis" - Manolo Blahnik

Where the Streets Have No Name

I dropped the ball on Music Monday last week, so I had to make right by all of my readers (wait, are you guys still there...is this thing on?).

And so, I present to you U2 and a song about running, because that's what I did this weekend.

The boyfriend and I ran a trail 5k this weekend in Elysian Park in LA.  Here are a few of my thoughts about the whole thing:

1. The location was amazing.  We could see directly into Dodger Stadium from across the freeway.  It looked empty and sadly forlorn.

2. We almost couldn't find the race.  The start/finish was in a remote part of the park that was really difficult to find (made worse by the bad Google directions that the race had posted on their website).  People were literally driving circles around the park because there weren't any signs directing us to the right spot.

3. This is the second time this race was put on.  I expected a small turn-out and a little disorganization, and was disappointed when the race started 25 minutes late.  By that time, I had done a warm-up, had cooled down from the warm-up and started to get hungry.

4.  Switchbacks in the sun.  That's all I have to say.

5. My mind was really strong during this race.  It didn't turn on me, probably because I kept saying, "It's only 3 miles...heck, 3 miles is nothing."

6. My body felt pretty good.  Nothing hindered my performance, which is all I really ask for anymore these days.  My time was pretty decent, considering there were some hills.  Of course, I couldn't catch the girls in pink sports bras and shorty shorts.  Oh, and the guy who won the race in 14:41 should probably be tested for steroids.  What a beast!

7. I was the first female to cross the line in Vibrams.  And you know what that means? I got a free pair of Vibrams!  I was pretty stoked.

8. He wouldn't want me to tell anyone, but I beat the boy.  The best part of the race, though, was at the end when, even though I had gone across the finish line first, he came over and hugged me and told me how proud he was of me.  "I've got a badass girlfriend" were the exact words. :) 

9. It was refreshing to run a 5k after a few 10k's.  While racing can be fun, for me it's a time to really see how my body handles the "stress" and pushes through.  And of course, to give me a little confidence boost that I'm not totally out of shape.

Check It Out!

There are days when I get bit by the creative bug, so I decided to change some things on my blog. 

I really wanted a super clean layout, so I scrapped the backgrounds.  Although they were fun to change, like a scarf that you layer on with your outfit, it wasn't giving off the correct vibe that I was looking for.  Hence...white...a totally under-appreciated color.

And then of course, I needed a new header.  While Austin was great as a placeholder for a while, I wanted to create something that captured me, what the blog was about and the fun that I hope we're all having here.  It needed to be punchy, but not KO-style.  Going with the theme of clean and sleek, I decided to use black and white pictures with pops of color - those are always fun.  And of course, the title had to be in typewriter set.

It's amazing how a few tweaks and changes can make the blog feel different and brand new.  I hope you all like it.  If you have suggestions for other additions, I'd love to hear them!

Where's My Touchscreen?

I held off for as long as I could.

But with a new year coming up and resolutions already churning in my brain, I decided that I couldn't be without it any longer.

Long story short, I bought an iPad.  And today, during my lunch break, I'm going to play with it and get used to it.  So, blogging goes on the back-burner today so I can figure out my new toy. :)

But, I will leave you with this little gem.  How crazy is it that my children, whenever I decide to have them, will probably only know newspapers as pieces of history and will expect everything to have a touchscreen?  Is this good for society?  Will they be outside-the-box thinkers or will they be easily-distracted and disconnected from the world around them? 

As a word girl who literally smelled the old books she got for her birthday over the weekend, I'm saddened that this little girl is disappointed in the magazine.

One Day at a Time

"The only way to live happily ever after is to do it one day at a time."
 -- Unknown


As of tomorrow, I will have lived 9,125 days here on this earth. 

Over 9,000 days.

That's a whole ton of sunrises and sunsets, of breakfasts and lunches, of ice cream cones and barefoot miles.

That's more tears than I can count, more hugs that have warmed my body and kisses that have made my soul soar.

In that amount of time, I have lived in four different states six different times (seems like I can't get away from the southwest).  I have cycled countless miles along the beach and up in the mountains.  My face has gotten sunburned and windburned and eaten by mosquitoes (don't ask).  

Looking back over more than 9,000 days is mind boggling.  So much has happened in those days.  So much has changed, whether it is my hair style, my shoe size or the boy who is holding my hand.  And yet, so much has stayed the course. My parents have loved me every single day, regardless of what I did in the 24 hours before or the 24 hours after.  I know that just like the sun will come up, they will love me.  That is a gift that not everyone can say they have.

I met my favorite person around day 824.  Even today, at the 9,124th day, and again in another 9,000 days, she will be the bestest sister a girl could ever wish for, or even have the gall to ask for.

Around day 8,245, I was a graduate for the third time in my life.  Wait, do I count kindergarten and 8th grade graduation in that?  Hmmmm...probably not.  Three times I have gotten up on a stage when my name was read, reveling in the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction, finality and beginnings, while also being scared out of my ever-loving mind.  I have become an educated woman who is constantly wondering, asking and learning.  I don't know exactly when babies become curious beings, but I am still as curious now as I was that day.







I lost my grandpa around the 6,390th day.  That was one of a handful of truly, deeply, heart-wrenchingly sad days of my time here. I have been blessed to have lived, so far, an extremely happy life, one that hasn't been hidden under rain clouds or despair.

Between days 8,925 and today, I fell in love and have given my heart, fully, to another human being.  Hopefully there are more days that feel like these in my future.






 

I became responsible for a life somewhere in the 8,000's.  Every day has been a learning experience: Dogs like to chew carpet.  Dogs like to pee on carpet.  Carpet starts to smell after being peed on too many times.  Dogs like to lick you.  Dogs eat a lot of food.  Dogs need a ton of exercise.  Dogs are truly wo(man)'s best friend. 





People always say, "Man, am I old," in reference to themselves.  And in some cases, it's justified...if you're 89 years old and have lived a full life.  But don't tell me that at the age of 28 or 34, you can truly call yourself old.  Sure, you might be 10,220 days into life, or even 12,410 days.  But what is that compared to 32,485 days.

32,485 days.  89 years. 

That's what I'm striving for (and more).  I want each and every one of those days to combine together to make a happily ever after.  I'm already a third of the way there, and think of all I have experienced up 'til now.  

Here's to tomorrow...and the next day...and the next...

Losing (and Using) My Mind

 By Fatima Azimova

I recently stumbled upon the Run Barefoot Girl website, which is run by Caity McCardell, a barefoot runner (of course).  She does a podcast that focuses on women who run barefoot, who she thinks are underrepresented in the general population of barefoot runners.

I listened to an episode of her podcast with Dr. Cindra Kamphoff, a sports psychologist (and more specifically, a running psychologist) and was truly intrigued.  I have always been interested in the mind part of sports and how what goes on between our ears can have such a profound effect on how we perform on the field or on the dark streets in the morning.

Dr. Kamphoff works at a sports psychology consulting practice that specializes in the psychology of running.  She had several points that I thought I might explore in this post:

1. She suggested having a mantra that you repeat during hard runs or when you need a little motivation.  I've heard this on numerous forums and in Runner's World before.  Using a short quote or positive refrain can often help you focus on what you are doing and remind you of the reasons you run.  I've actually never had or used a mantra.  I've noticed that if I do repeat something over and over again in my head while running, it is the catchy part of the lyrics of the last song I heard while heading out the door.  It's almost as if these lyrics are "running" through my thoughts without being heavy or burdensome - it doesn't feel like I'm actually thinking them.  They seem to just be thoughts that my brain is repeating.  I guess the same thing could be true of a mantra.  Maybe I'll try to come up with a mantra that is personal and special to me and see if it works out.  Do you have a favorite saying that you use to pump yourself up?

2. Why is it that we don't train our brains while training our bodies?  We spend so much time doing fartleks and tempo runs and sit ups but we don't work out our minds.  Maybe it's because it's easy to get tips and tricks for every type of workout under the sun, but getting mental advice is few and far between.  Also, mentally, you are different from the next person.  And while a tempo workout can be modified based on your half-marathon goal time, what your brain tells you in the middle of a long run is not going to be the same as anyone else.  This part can be frustrating, because as someone who wants to learn more about how to train my brain, I would probably need to get a one-on-one consultation with someone like Dr. Kamphoff and wouldn't be able to "self-diagnose" (which believe me, I wouldn't want to do). It just seems that if I am really dedicated to getting into my own brain, I'd need someone to help me and wouldn't be able to do it on my own.  If you know of other ways to go about doing this based on help books or other materials, I'd love to hear about it.

3. Dr. Kamphoff had a really interesting point, saying that we need to go through the several stages of grief when we get injured.  Being a runner inevitably means that you are going to be injured.  You are going to feel aches and pains that make you question why you run in the first place.  But she suggests that it is ok to feel upset about being injured, but then move on to accepting that you are injured and stay positive about your recovery.  This really struck a cord with me today, especially, as I am starting to feel some top of the foot pain again (sigh).  I was in a really low mood early this morning when I woke up and realized that things hurt too much to go out on a run and that I should instead rest a bit.  While I definitely made the right decision, it still didn't make me feel any better...everyone hates being sidelined .  But as I got through the day and took into account Dr. Kamphoff's advice on accepting the "injury," I started to focus on what I could do to recover and get back on the right track.  And I understand that this isn't a full-blown injury that would cause someone to totally and completely lose faith in all things good, but it was still a small blow to my happiness.

So, what's my conclusion to all this?  Remember that your brain is in charge of everything, so take care of it and take the time to train it.  Believing in your mental abilities and being mentally tough can change how you physically feel and react to certain situations. 

The Beauty of Colorado

"I heard in my infancy only the siren song of the mountains. An alpine meadow was my front yard, across which scuttled, instead of chipmunks and squirrels, conies and marmots that pierced the thin air with their shrill whistles before they ducked into holes they had burrowed into the tundra. On July afternoons, I looled among the primrose and forget-me-nots, caressed by the sun whose thermonuculear secrets my father probed with his coronagraph.  Safe in my bed, I listened to the tormented howls of timber wolves at dawn, over on Ceresco Ridge.  In the morning, I would stare at the sharp summit of 14,142-foot Mount Democrat, impossibly far away, its north face still choked with winter snowfields and wonder. What is it like up there? What can you see?"

-- "On the Ridge Between Life and Death" by David Roberts

My ID

I had seen the ads for Road ID in the Runner's World magazines that my dad would send me once he was done reading them (recycle, people).  I was intrigued.

For those of you who aren't in the know, Road ID is a bracelet that has some identifying info on it in the horrible case that you can't speak for yourself (see: being hit by a car).  You can put whatever you want on it - your birth date, contact info for next of kin, any allergies you may have, etc.

My gears started turning (the ones in my head) and I realized that no one would know who I was if I was lying on the side of the road unconscious.  Sure, Austin's tags say who I am, but what good would that be if A). he ran away when I got hit or 2). they called the number on his tag (my cell phone)...duh, I wouldn't answer cuz I'm lying on the side of the road!

So, I went ahead and bought a bracelet, thinking of my future unborn children who would need someone to birth them.

I have to say, I was a little skeptical about the size when I first got it - it looked like it could barely fit over Austin's paw.  And yes, it does require a little finagling when I put it on.  But, it fits securely when it's on and I barely feel it.  I make sure to always put it on when I take Austin out for a walk or when I go for a run or ride. 

When I was on the Road ID website and it prompted me to put in the information I wanted on the bracelet, my mind started wandering.  How do I identify myself?  In no particular order, this is what I came up with:

• I'm a woman.  Everything I am stems from the fact that my sex has been told no you can't, when really, anything you can do I can do better.
• I'm half Hispanic, a quarter Swiss and a quarter Chinese.  Each part of my background helps to shape how I view the world.
• I'm a romantic. I can't say hopeless anymore, because I've found my prince charming.
• I'm educated and believe that each and every child here in the United States, however they arrived, deserves an education.  Each of us should be given the basic tools that can help us become better people.
• I'm a Colorado girl in the deepest part of my soul.  There is almost nothing more perfect than the golden aspens in the fall.  Well, that and a good New Belgium brew with friends.  That's pretty perfect, too.
• I'm definitely a dog person. Cat's make me sneeze. And puppies are God's gift to man, so how can you argue with that?
• I believe that family is the most important thing in any person's life and that with a strong, loving, forgiving family, a person can be content in whatever they do.  I am in my family and my family is in me.
• I'm a voracious reader.  If it has words, I'm gonna read it.  Except maybe the creepy classified ads.  I don't read those. 

 

• I really, really, really want to be a writer.  I don't know if that will happen now, or later, or if ever, but I am going to strive to be a good wordsmith.  
• I'm a really good eater.  I'm not afraid of food, so I'll probably eat whatever you put down in front of me.  My aunt used to say, "I'd rather clothe her than feed her," in reference to a time in my life when I could eat a foot-long Subway sandwhich by myself.  When I was 13.
• I know that we should all be proud of our bodies (and most of the time I am), but there are certain glances in the mirror that make me want to do a few more sit-ups and run a few minutes longer.  
• I'm a lover. 
• I'm not ashamed to say I own a library card. And use it.
• I'm a homebody who is happy in her normal routines.
• I'm a runner who happens to run barefoot. Ok, ok...in Vibrams.
• I'm a worrier.  If I care about you, it's inevitable that I'll toss up a prayer about you every now and again.
• I'm a sister to an incredibly smart, funny, gorgeous woman who the world is open to...she just needs to figure out exactly how to conquer it. 

• Sometimes, I overcompensate and try to sound more knowledgeable or cultured than I am.
• I have been told that I have no taste in movies and that I've missed all of the "good" ones.  But I am also one who won't watch a stupid movie even if everyone else is watching it.  So there.
• Yes, I need validation that I am smart, beautiful, talented, fast, etc.  Maybe that's why I check Facebook several times a day - just to see if people have commented on my posts or photos.

Too bad all of this couldn't fit on my ID bracelet - those EMT's wouldn't know what hit them!

I Miss the Ink

There was one point in my life when I was going to dedicate myself to journalism - I was all in.  So in, in fact, that  I went to get a master's in journalism and believed that, armed with the knowledge Stanford professors tried to shove into my brain, I could handle any city council meeting or football practice.  I was hoping to eventually end up as a long-form journalist, following in the footsteps of Buzz Bissinger & Joe Posnanski.  I was going to embed myself in some town to report on a story that was going to make waves and my Stanford profs would smile and nod when they read my byline..."We did that," they'd say.

Oh, the dreams of a young journalist.

Almost immediately after I graduated with a master's, the journalism industry started to crumble.  Papers weren't hiring and in fact, a good many of them were letting people go.  For a girl who just wanted to write long-form, off-the-beaten-path-sports stories, I was out of luck.  It was either move to Wisconsin to cover local politics or find something else to do with my excellent grammar skills.

Nowadays, most of the writing I'm doing is in clipped, email form.  Sure, I always put the comma in the right spot and try to make my sentences exciting, even if they are just explaining the intricacies of a specific project.  And I yes, I'm doing my darndest to try to post on this blog regularly.  And I've even started to write for some of our content packages at work, so I guess I can say I'm doing some reporting.  But believe me, writing about video games and cooking for one isn't exactly mind-blowing stuff.

There have been moments lately when I crave a good interview.  I reflect on that one time when I interviewed Billy Beane.  Or when I met with a climber who had fallen 100 feet off a cliff wall, which disintegrated his vertebrate and left his right leg a tangled mess (he'd later decide to amputate it so that he could continue living an active lifestyle).  I miss seeing the pain, the joy and enthusiasm, the defeat and success of people.  I want to hear people's stories, what makes them tick, why the did what they did and how it turned out.  A good story will always prevail, but sometimes I feel like those good stories are passing me by.  I want to be writing them, not reading them.

I've made myself a life goal of writing a book.  And I'm hoping that one day, that will happen.  But between work and the puppy and running and going out with the boy...

Until I get to the point when I can fully dedicate myself to researching and reporting and writing a book, I'm going to continue to write as much I can, whenever I can.  I'm going to continue to read the bests, and learn from their sentence structure and writing prowess.  That way, when that perfect story comes my way, I'll be ready. 

Delicious Autumn!

For some reason, Norah Jones makes me think of the fall season.  Maybe it's the warm, gravely quality of her voice that makes me want to curl up in a blanket with a cup of hot tea and a good book.  Although not from this song, the lyrics from "Thinking About You" are perfect for this post.

"Yesterday I saw the sun shinin',
And the leaves were fallin' down softly,
My cold hands needed a warm, warm touch,
And I was thinkin' about you."

Now that October is upon us, it's officially fall, my favorite season.  But, because I live in southern California, fall is not the real fall I've grown to love.

Instead of the leaves turning a gorgeous golden color, all we get is a little bit of a chill in the morning air.

 

I miss this view. 

Instead, this is what I get to see:

Ok, that's not the temperature at my house by the beach, but that was the temperature inland this weekend.  97 degrees in October!  That's pure madness.

Fall means:

1. Apple cider
2. Candy corn
3. Running in long sleeves and tights if it gets cold enough
4. Throw blankets
5. Scarves
6. Comfy sweatshirts
7. Cute boots
8. It's almost Thanksgiving...
9. It's almost Christmas...
10. That means I get to go home. :)

Happy autumn!

Running is Perfect

"A true runner is a very fortunate person.  He has found something in him that is just perfect."
-George Sheehan

Could that gaze be any more intent? He must be seeing baby sheep that he can herd.

(Photo from The New Sixty.)

Could those ears be any floppier?  Thank goodness they add to his super adorableness!

(Photo from Kevin & Amanda's blog)

What's better than one puppy running? Three getting ready to attack you in furry goodness!

(Photo from English Teacher Geek)

What's better than three puppies?  A basket-full of the spottiest Dalmatian pups! Have I mentioned that I'm a HUGE "101 Dalmatians" fan?

(Photo from dogvideofun)

And then there's this guy. Yeah, he's a good runner, but I love it when he cuddles with me.  Sure, go ahead, buddy...melt my heart...see if I care!

Clean Up Your Own Backyard

Although this is a classic Elvis song, I don't think that the problem I'm going to write about is really what Elvis meant by "clean up your own backyard."

Here's what happened this morning...

I bought a new pair of Vibrams this weekend.  Man, are they cute...purple and gray...they make my feet feel very girly.  I took them out for a spin this morning and inevitably, because they are a new pair of shoes, there was a little bit of rubbing and chafing.  I got about 10 minutes out with the pup and I decided that to go any further was going to do severe damage (and I had just come off a good week of rest).  I could have turned around right there, but wanted to go a little bit longer, so I decided to take off my Vibrams.  I am a "barefoot" runner, after all.  So, here I am, running barefoot and as I'm jumping over rocks and such, I noticed something.

There was a TON of dog poop stains on the sidewalk.  And, not only stains, but also places where a dog went, but the owner couldn't get all of the poop off the sidewalk.  Residue poop...that's the worst.

WHEN DID IT BECOME OK FOR A DOG TO POOP ON THE SIDEWALK?

Did these owners train their dogs that they could squat wherever they wanted to?  Austin is a total grass pooper - he won't go unless he's on the green stuff.  Especially today, as I was staring down at the ground even more so, I noticed that this poop residue wasn't just here and there, it was EVERYWHERE.

At the same time, when did people lose the common decency to pick up after your dog?  When did it become ok to watch your dog poop & silently stroll away, leaving me to step in that mess later?  To me, people have become lazy and inconsiderate.  Elvis was right in saying that we need to clean up our own backyards.  Take the five seconds, FIVE SECONDS, to pick up after your dog.  We're all here to walk on the sidewalks and enjoy spending time outside.  But when I have to stare at the ugliness that is a pile of poop, my mood sours and I get upset with humanity.  Do the simple things.  Clean up. 

Holding His Hand

There are just some things that cut straight to your heart.  You see engagement pictures on Facebook, all gorgeously fuzzy with love and happiness and warmth, and you yearn for what the two people have, that comforting feeling of comfortableness with each other.  You hear a song that proclaims true love and while driving home, all you can think of is the magic that abounds in your heart when someone is holding your hand.  Strange how a touch three feet from it can rock your core so forcefully.

Do I see more engagement pictures and have a stronger visceral reaction to them when I'm single?  Or when I'm dating someone?  Does that wedding video make me tear up because I wish that will happen to me sometime...someday...or because I can actually see myself in that same position?

I used to write in my journal that it was definitely the former - "I want the knowledge that you can reach over to that person, hold their hand and know that everything will be ok."  I waxed and waned poetic nonsense and felt sorry for myself - timing was never on my side and I had come to the conclusion that relationships were always doomed to fail because one of us was always going to be leaving, moving, graduating, etc.  I can't start to tell you how many pages in my journal are devoted to questioning the guys in my life and the relationships that I might never have.

Slowly, though, my journal entries have changed to the latter - "We were truly in a little love bubble and it felt like my heart was complete."  (We were sitting in a Starbucks and immediately, my mind picked this song to be part of my life's soundtrack).

It's crazy how suddenly, your hand feels better in the hand of someone else than it does hanging listlessly, alone, by your side, something it had been doing for your whole life.  Your heart jumps in irregular beats when that person laughs over the phone - is it possible that Zuzu Bailey from "It's A Wonderful Life" was wrong when saying "every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings" and it's really when someone you love laughs? Angels would be getting wings right and left in my case...that boy laughs all the time.

Separately, the heart and the mind are incredible organs.  The heart (hopefully) learns that sitting down with the someone at lunch who might otherwise eat a PB&J by herself is good for both involved.  It understands that exercise makes the muscle stronger and the "heart" lighter and happier.  The brain recognizes symbols and speech and pairs them together to make "Where the Red Fern Grows" and "Come Away With Me".

But together, they can gang up on a person.  They can make you believe that wonderful, fuzzy feelings and dreams are easily accessible when you hold that someone's hand.  That truly and indescribably, everything and anything is possible when you hear that laugh.  And abruptly, the look that all engagement pictures have is how your life looks through your eyes...the love, warmth and happiness are now radiating off of you and not off of the picture that you yearn for.  You now have what you have always yearned for.  I now have what I have always yearned for.

Bring On the Peas

I decided something today.

I have to take care of my body.  That is why I am taking this week off from running and icing my foot as much as possible.  No running.  Hmmmm....

Ok, let's take a step back.  I'm feeling a little twinge on the top of my left foot, which I have felt before.  But this time, it's hurting a little bit more so I don't want to take any risks - I don't want this to become a full-blown stress fracture. 

Also, I should disclose that I'm not one to NOT take care of myself and my body.  When I start feeling a cold coming on, I chug as much Emergen-C and hot tea as I can.  Preventative measures always work better than trying to tackle these types of situations as they happen.  I've been trying to ice and stretch as much as I can to keep my body limber and happy.

This time seems different to me, though.  This time, I'm ok with not running for a week because I know that it is better in the long run for me (get it ... long run ... heh ... heh).  This time, I'm not frustrated with being "injured."  Somewhere along the line, I've come to the realization that running is hard on anyone's body.  It is inevitable that things are going to hurt and time off is usually the best healer.  Time and frozen peas, which are my lifesavers.

Now that I've come to peace with injuries as part of the joy of running, I feel really good about this decision.  Although I have to ignore the pull to get out in the morning, I am trying to relish the warm moments in bed that I have instead.  I'm going to do some elliptical cross-training and weight lifting, but will focus on getting my body feeling better and healthy.   

I know I've made this post all about just one week off from running.  And in the grand scheme of things, it's not a super big deal.  But for me, I want to commemorate this week because it is the first time that I've acknowledged that injuries exist and that I need to be ok with that.  And I am.  So, later, when I start complaining about how injuries are horrible and how I can't stay positive when I can't do the one thing I want to do, remind me to take a look at this post.  Hopefully I'll keep my cool and go grab a bag of frozen peas.

If Heaven Wasn't so Far Away

As I was driving home the other day, I heard this song on the radio and it made me think of my grandpa.

My grandpa, Jose Vigil, was never able to see any of his granddaughters graduate from high school, much less college.  He won't get to watch any of us get married or have babies.  He was barely a tangible presence in my younger cousin's life, as he died when she was still young; she has a few memories of him, but not too many.  My sister and I were lucky enough to have a solid childhood of experiences with him.

• Going to the shed to get the air compressor to pump up the old, worn-out-to-the-point-where-the-leather-was-smooth basketball.
• Drinking from the outside water spigot.
• Going tubing down the small stream on their property.  We'd enter the property, hop into the bed of the truck (the only place we could ride in the bed), and drive up to the stream.  There, we'd cruise down the stream for a bit, but usually it was too cold to stay in too long.  Once it was lunchtime, my grandma would feed us Vienna Sausages & potted meat on saltine crackers.  We'd drink it down with the barrel juice drinks (you know the kind).  Those were sweet, sweet times when life was wrapped up in that one afternoon.  Nothing could get better than that.
• Riding horses.
• Playing in the hay loft (which was usually cut short by my sneezes and runny noses...dang allergies).
• Watching baseball on TV with the sound off (the announcers never said anything worth anything).
• Making carne seca (beef jerky)...a little bit of salt, a little bit of pepper.

Remembering these times with Grumpy makes me smile and warms my insides.  Here's a little prayer up to you, Grampito:

We all miss you so much down here.  The family is not the same without you and while we somehow figured out how to on in your absence, there is definitely a big void.  I was lucky enough to grow up with you in my life.  I worry that Nieves' memories of you are brief & fuzzy - I wish she could have known & loved you like Pilar, Sierra & I did.

Gramita is doing ok.  Things are getting harder for her - maintaining the house and land, taking care of the animals, worrying about all of us ... please help her to stay strong and not give up.  Because without her ... I don't know what this family would do.

I think that you would be proud of the people your granddaughters have grown up to be.  Pilar is so bright and talented and with focus, could do so many things.  Sierra is a very smart girl who finds interest in new, surprising things.  She has huge potential now as she graduates from high school - I hope that she sees her potential as we do.  And then there's Nieves, who is probably the most caring, sensitive, loving child I know.  She is the definition of sweetness and I can't wait to see who she grows up to be.

Grumpy, I hope you are proud of me.  I've stumbled sometimes and I have tried my hardest to be a good person.  Please continue to watch over me and guide me to do what is right.

CSU, CSU!

That is all.

Ok, and this.  

For all you Ram fans out there who don't have the privilege of living in the great state of Colorado, and you still want to watch the big game, check out the CSU Alumni Association's list of Hometown Huddles.  These are groups of Ram fans in various locations around the country who get together to show their colors (green and gold, of course).

A Few Good Reads

Spent my lunch break reading...and reading...and reading some more. There's almost nothing like getting lost in a good story.  But because of that, I didn't have the time to write a proper blog post.  So, instead, let me give you a brief look at what was taking up my time.

Remember His Name - Sports Illustrated

"Even as a boy Pat Tillman felt a destiny, a need to do the right thing whatever it cost him. When the World Trade Center was attacked on 9/11, he thought about what he had to do and then walked away from the NFL and became an Army Ranger...."

We all know Pat Tillman's story - football player leaves big bucks to help Uncle Sam win the war against terror, but dies on the battlefield.  The truth eventually comes out that he's killed by friendly fire.  The detail and powerful narrative of Tillman's story is incredibly well-done here.  Reading this, especially after the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and recently being semi-connected to Army Rangers, helped me to understand more about how the Army covered up Tillman's death.  It is mind boggling to think that a government branch, one that is in charge of the well-being of so many people, would continue to keep secrets, even after its poster boy died.  

Frank's Story - Runner's World

Frank Shorter is the father of the modern running boom. An enduringly popular speaker, he spins a captivating narrative about winning the 1972 Olympic Marathon. The story he hasn't told is the dark truth about his own father.

Wow. This was an eye-opening story about the physical and mental abuse that Frank Shorter endured at the hands of his own father, a beloved small-town doctor.  The memories that Frank has of being beaten were, at times, hard to read.  "Often Frank could smell liquor on his breath, which was both good news and bad. The bad news was that alcohol would juice his father's fury. The good news was that, if he were sufficiently enraged, he might grow befuddled and use the strap end of his belt instead of the buckle end."  This is the first time that Frank has ever spoken publicly, and at length, of his abusive father.  There's also a video interview of Frank within this story. I found it intriguing when Shorter said that he had learned to compartmentalize the pain while being beaten, and that translated to him being able to push a little harder while running in big races.

I believe that long-form journalism on the Internet, where it can be as long as the author wants, has become really, really well done in recent years.  Some of the places I find these types of stories are below:

Grantland - Any Bill Simmons fans out there?  This is his off-shoot site where he has some great writers contribute on sports and pop culture topics.

Runner's World - They do fantastic features/bios on runners.  While I read a lot of their smaller, more instructive pieces, I really enjoy the longer stuff they have to offer.

Longreads - They compile the best long-form journalism pieces on the web. Super great place to start for good reads.  Bonus: they tell you how long it should take you to read the piece, which helps when you only have an hour lunch break. :)

New York Magazine - Mainly read this for Will Leitch's sports articles (like his latest one about attitudes towards gay athletes, which was superb)

If you have other good sites for long-form journalism pieces, please, let me know!