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!