Saturday, January 22, 2011

If at first you don't love it, try, try again?

I signed up for my 2nd half marathon.

I’m not really sure why. I vaguely remember finishing my first and saying (in a very obvious runner’s high moment) “That was awesome! I want to do another one!”. But the memory is foggy and mostly overshadowed by the days of intense pain that followed. I think I said “Never again!” a couple hundred times, but like I said…it’s foggy.

Anyways, I’m assuming that people run more than one half marathon or marathon for the same reason women decide to have more than one child. Something is wrong with our brains. There is something that makes us forget the pain and suffering and think “Well, golly! I should do that again! Why not?”

WHY NOT!? Oh allow me to refresh your memory:
1. Weeks of training. WEEKS. Weeks of re-arranging your social calendar because you have to run. Weeks of waking up early on Saturdays to run LONG, LONG distances.

2. Gu. That paste you have to drink so you don’t collapse and die on the long runs. Gross.
3. Pain. Suffering. Aches. Creaks. Bruises. Blisters. Callouses.
4. AND PERHAPS THE MOST IMPORTANT REASON TO NOT EMBARK ON THIS JOURNEY AGAIN: none of your jeans fit. Leg muscles change and suddenly your $200 pair of jeans doesn’t fit. Is this REALLY worth it?

But then there’s the upside…the feeling of accomplishment that lasts for about 30 minutes before the pain sets in. The 13.1 sticker that you can slap on the back of your car, only to feel totally foolish and lame when you see every other car has one (including the soccer mom in the carpool line) or to be looked at with disdain by the guy in the Subaru with the bike rack on top and the 150.4 sticker on the back of his car. Whatever. Really, the best part is being able to eat whatever you want because your body has turned into a calorie chugging machine.

But regardless, it’s too late now. I paid my $80. I’m committed. I’m doing it. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I've also talked two of my best friend's into embarking on this delightful journey with me. I told them it was great and they would love it.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Snow lessons

Four things I learned during Snowpocalypse 2011:

1. Do not mock the panic-driven pre-storm shoppers. Join them. If it turns out to be a false alarm, you have enough eggs, milk, and bread to make a LOT of French toast. Yum.


2. Working from home is awesome…for about 2.5 days. Then you start getting weird and watching your neighbors from behind the slits in your window blinds. I didn’t do this. I just feel like people might end up doing that if they were stuck in their own house for four days and heard noises outside and wondered “is that another car trying to make it up the hill? Which car? The silver one? It sounds like the silver one…wait…no, no it’s totally the white SUV. They’ll make it. They have made it the past 4 times. I’ll supervise just in case.”

3. Daytime tv is total crap.  Daytime tv commercials are even worse. I’m looking at you, Binder and Associates.

4. I can never, ever, ever, ever live someplace that experiences weather like that on a daily basis. I will end up in the fetal position. On medication. Doing CIA-style surveillance on my neighbors.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Twenty Eleven

I should probably take my Christmas tree down, right? I should. I totally should. But there’s this part of me that thinks “What’s the big deal? Why can’t it just stay there?”

First of all, it looks really good in that one corner of my room. It’s just going to be empty and bare and sad when that tree is gone. The chair that will replace the tree will sit there, a mocking reminder of the un-festiveness of everyday d├ęcor.

Secondly, the tree still LOOKS really great. So shouldn’t I reward the tree for maintaining its lush greenery for so long by letting it showcase itself to the world? Or at least to me and my other bedroom furniture? Plus, I’m really worried that actually touching the tree to remove ornaments will cause every needle on every branch to immediately release in a violent freefall to my floor. Do you know how long it takes to clean up pine needles? DO YOU? I’ll be sweeping up needles until AT LEAST November.

Thirdly, there is something extremely depressing about un-trimming a tree. It’s akin to shaving a dog. You look at it after all of its bulk and beauty has been removed and you just feel…sad. It doesn’t look right. It doesn’t feel right. A mere shadow of its former self, huddled in the corner, shivering and distrustful of the human who reduced it to this. 

And then I had this thought…why can’t I just use 2011 as one big transition from holiday to holiday? Why can’t the tree stay up until February 14th? Why can’t the tree transition into a Valentine’s Day tree? (It’s now hitting me why my next purchase should be an artificial Christmas tree…) Then Valentine’s Day can last until…what’s next? St. Patrick’s Day? Then Easter and so on…
Basically, I want to turn my room into the holiday aisle at Wal-mart.
2011, you’re shaping up to be a great year after all.