A law school friend twisted my arm til I agreed to register for everyone's favorite marathon with her. It'll be her first marathon. We have a time goal and everything-- basically, contrary to everything I usually do with running thus far. It's a welcome change.
I'm scared. I've never signed up to do a race with someone else, except Sunmart 50k (aka "The time I learned that drinking soda while running makes me very sick"). We're figuring out a training plan tomorrow, though mine'll be different than hers on account of that whole ironman thing I'm doing six weeks earlier. That's another good reason to be scared. Even so, I'm excited about the prospect of training with someone since training alone for the 26.2 hasn't worked yet. Admittedly, it's been a long and low-workout-volumed schoolyear without any sort of network of exercisers. I'm lonely up here, and so is my spandex.
Okay, enough self-pity. I need to save my whining for the course! ;-)
Showing posts with label laws cool. Show all posts
Showing posts with label laws cool. Show all posts
Monday, April 14, 2008
Monday, December 10, 2007
It can get worse
The maintenance guy came out of my bathroom at 11 PM on Saturday and told me my toilet was broken (no crap) and that he couldn't fix it. When I asked what I should do he said, "Well, do you have a big pot or pan?"
I knew right then that this wasn't going to end well. He meant, of course, a big pot to dump water into the bowl to get it to flush from the water pressure; my toilet is old-school, and some valve went bad (and no, I didn't stop it up). To fix it, they were going to have to replace the whole toilet or replace the hard-to-find valve, but both would require shutting the water off in my entire 6-story building. I tried to be cheerful about it, even on Sunday when maintenance guy's boss didn't make the appointment to come look at the toilet.
The toilet didn't break me. It was the roaches. The roaches?! Yes, the roaches. Last week I got a call saying they were going to exterminate in my apartment because of "an infestation." Gross, I thought, with not a little bit of haughtiness. I'd never seen a roach in my place and assumed that it was someone else's filth that caused the problem, and that my extermination was just a preventive.
You know the phrase "pride cometh before a fall"? Well, it stings a little right now. I started actually seeing roaches in my place the day of the extermination, and so I armed the crevices with killer motels and stalked the place with an ever-present can of RAID. But they kept coming. I remained steadfastly sane (well, that's a slight exaggeration) and took comfort in my friends' assurances that roaches come out after extermination "to die." Some at my hand.
Sh!t hit the fan on Sunday. For lunch I made some homemade mac and cheese. For dinner I ate the same, but when I nuked it, it was too hot. I left it on the counter to cool and used the restroom. Of course, it took me five bleeping minutes to fully flush the toilet (and about 15 gallons of water-- not that I counted), and when I returned to get my dinner I found two roaches. They appeared to be considering whether they should or should not jump into my bowl of cheesy goodness. I was considering if I should off them or myself. I chose them. Then I scoured the kitchen, looking for more of the bastards to drown in RAID. Then I cleaned like a frenzied housewife. There were tears, and very real sorrow for having to throw out my precious mac and cheese. I'd snapped.
Normally at this point I'd dig through my lease, read up on some landlord-tenant law in Missouri, and cruise the board of health's website for something to get the jerks running this show (my school by the way). Armed with info, I'd send a letter politely acknowledging that I wasn't some idiot consumer and then saying something about expecting things to right themselves, but without sounding prickish. But there was no time-- Monday I had an exam in my weakest subject, from my hardest professor and the one I was most eager to please (for the moment at least-- I find I'm most eager to please the professor whose exam I have next). I shot off a justifiably angry-but-not-crazy email to maintenance and went back to cramming and looking around the room for pests in paranoid fashion.
Today I got a call from the recipient of my nastygram (I really did try to be nice in it) saying they were going to re-exterminate my place-- the day of my last exam, a take-home which I was planning on actually taking home-- and they were going to fix my toilet this morning. When I left for my Monday exam they were still at work on the john, but I felt comforted. As I should, right? And the roach problem was from some icky dude, but I was assured the problem was being handled. No need to go Rambo-vigilante on my neighbors to find the SOB who's compromising my home, humble as it may be. Things were getting done.
Okay, pseudo-crises resolved and onto what I came here to do: kick tail on exams (or, alternatively, how to sort of learn how to be a lawyer, but not all the way because law schools think that's too simplistic). Monday's exam was a 3 hour trial with 4 questions. #3 was supposed to be substituted by a new #3 in the packet. I took the exam, but there was a particular law by which I was completely baffled, so afterward I broke etiquette and asked the guy in front of me about it (who seems really good at law school). What? he asked. He had no clue what I was talking about, and he looked like he was going to cry. Frick! He asked someone else about it, and that guy shrugged. Double frick! Did I answer the wrong question? I headed to the registrar's office to see if I could just find out what I did. I decided that if I messed up I certainly deserved it for not reading my exam properly; I am, after all, a grown person capable of reading and writing exams, and should account for my mistakes. The registrar was much more sympathetic than I expected-- apparently my professor made the change at the last moment, and some students answered the wrong question and others didn't do the 4th question because he'd mentioned in class that there were going to be 3 total. This is a nice mess. Should the question be thrown out? Which one? What about the people who wrote the exam properly-- should they be penalized by taking out anything? I started to cry (again). A fraction of my life depended on that score. Summer jobs are hard to find for 1Ls, and I needed to score grades to make it out of the proverbial Pile-- looks aren't going to do it.
It turns out I did answer everything as I should have, at least from a procedural standpoint. But by the end that was little comfort! I've been crazed from the subject, crazed from a bleeping roach infestation, and crazed from a superbleeping toilet that won't bleeping flush. Grades for a semester based on single exams? Hey, bring it on. "Problems at home" on top of everything else? It was too much for this mouse (ugh, hopefully don't have those too).
Now I'm spent. I have one more exam in my best subject, and I secretly wish it were tomorrow. Hopefully my roof doesn't cave in or my cat get a rare form of rabies and attack me in the middle of the night... but if I were a betting man, I wouldn't put my money on me this week.
I'll be back next week after exams, driving home, and a daunting amount of job search stuff. I'll have other stuff to talk about besides school... like not being in school. For three weeks. I'm drooling in anticipation already!
I knew right then that this wasn't going to end well. He meant, of course, a big pot to dump water into the bowl to get it to flush from the water pressure; my toilet is old-school, and some valve went bad (and no, I didn't stop it up). To fix it, they were going to have to replace the whole toilet or replace the hard-to-find valve, but both would require shutting the water off in my entire 6-story building. I tried to be cheerful about it, even on Sunday when maintenance guy's boss didn't make the appointment to come look at the toilet.
The toilet didn't break me. It was the roaches. The roaches?! Yes, the roaches. Last week I got a call saying they were going to exterminate in my apartment because of "an infestation." Gross, I thought, with not a little bit of haughtiness. I'd never seen a roach in my place and assumed that it was someone else's filth that caused the problem, and that my extermination was just a preventive.
You know the phrase "pride cometh before a fall"? Well, it stings a little right now. I started actually seeing roaches in my place the day of the extermination, and so I armed the crevices with killer motels and stalked the place with an ever-present can of RAID. But they kept coming. I remained steadfastly sane (well, that's a slight exaggeration) and took comfort in my friends' assurances that roaches come out after extermination "to die." Some at my hand.
Sh!t hit the fan on Sunday. For lunch I made some homemade mac and cheese. For dinner I ate the same, but when I nuked it, it was too hot. I left it on the counter to cool and used the restroom. Of course, it took me five bleeping minutes to fully flush the toilet (and about 15 gallons of water-- not that I counted), and when I returned to get my dinner I found two roaches. They appeared to be considering whether they should or should not jump into my bowl of cheesy goodness. I was considering if I should off them or myself. I chose them. Then I scoured the kitchen, looking for more of the bastards to drown in RAID. Then I cleaned like a frenzied housewife. There were tears, and very real sorrow for having to throw out my precious mac and cheese. I'd snapped.
Normally at this point I'd dig through my lease, read up on some landlord-tenant law in Missouri, and cruise the board of health's website for something to get the jerks running this show (my school by the way). Armed with info, I'd send a letter politely acknowledging that I wasn't some idiot consumer and then saying something about expecting things to right themselves, but without sounding prickish. But there was no time-- Monday I had an exam in my weakest subject, from my hardest professor and the one I was most eager to please (for the moment at least-- I find I'm most eager to please the professor whose exam I have next). I shot off a justifiably angry-but-not-crazy email to maintenance and went back to cramming and looking around the room for pests in paranoid fashion.
Today I got a call from the recipient of my nastygram (I really did try to be nice in it) saying they were going to re-exterminate my place-- the day of my last exam, a take-home which I was planning on actually taking home-- and they were going to fix my toilet this morning. When I left for my Monday exam they were still at work on the john, but I felt comforted. As I should, right? And the roach problem was from some icky dude, but I was assured the problem was being handled. No need to go Rambo-vigilante on my neighbors to find the SOB who's compromising my home, humble as it may be. Things were getting done.
Okay, pseudo-crises resolved and onto what I came here to do: kick tail on exams (or, alternatively, how to sort of learn how to be a lawyer, but not all the way because law schools think that's too simplistic). Monday's exam was a 3 hour trial with 4 questions. #3 was supposed to be substituted by a new #3 in the packet. I took the exam, but there was a particular law by which I was completely baffled, so afterward I broke etiquette and asked the guy in front of me about it (who seems really good at law school). What? he asked. He had no clue what I was talking about, and he looked like he was going to cry. Frick! He asked someone else about it, and that guy shrugged. Double frick! Did I answer the wrong question? I headed to the registrar's office to see if I could just find out what I did. I decided that if I messed up I certainly deserved it for not reading my exam properly; I am, after all, a grown person capable of reading and writing exams, and should account for my mistakes. The registrar was much more sympathetic than I expected-- apparently my professor made the change at the last moment, and some students answered the wrong question and others didn't do the 4th question because he'd mentioned in class that there were going to be 3 total. This is a nice mess. Should the question be thrown out? Which one? What about the people who wrote the exam properly-- should they be penalized by taking out anything? I started to cry (again). A fraction of my life depended on that score. Summer jobs are hard to find for 1Ls, and I needed to score grades to make it out of the proverbial Pile-- looks aren't going to do it.
It turns out I did answer everything as I should have, at least from a procedural standpoint. But by the end that was little comfort! I've been crazed from the subject, crazed from a bleeping roach infestation, and crazed from a superbleeping toilet that won't bleeping flush. Grades for a semester based on single exams? Hey, bring it on. "Problems at home" on top of everything else? It was too much for this mouse (ugh, hopefully don't have those too).
Now I'm spent. I have one more exam in my best subject, and I secretly wish it were tomorrow. Hopefully my roof doesn't cave in or my cat get a rare form of rabies and attack me in the middle of the night... but if I were a betting man, I wouldn't put my money on me this week.
I'll be back next week after exams, driving home, and a daunting amount of job search stuff. I'll have other stuff to talk about besides school... like not being in school. For three weeks. I'm drooling in anticipation already!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Lazy = Humiliating: The Thursday version
It’s been awhile. I could have written before now, but the truth is I’ve been busy with school and not training, and is there anything lamer than a law school blog? No. Law school is what it is, and is remarkably similar to what it was 40 years ago. No story there.
I’ll start with the first bike story. It finally turned cold here, so I could justify putting Lucy on the trainer rather than hunt for excuses not to ride around town. After a fun dinner with the new “girls” on Thursday I came home, did a tiny ab workout, cracked open a beer, and went to work on “winterizing” my bike. I took off my back wheel, and proceeded to change the tire to an old one-- no sense in ruining my new ones on the trainer, right? [I had a little trainer debacle in 2005 where I shredded my tire and it nearly exploded from what I assume was the wrong amount of pressure on the back rubby thingy... admittedly, it would have been a much better story if it had exploded. Maybe next time?] I took off the black (new) tire, which was harder than I remember, and put the red/old tire on, which was also harder than I remember. Here I committed mistake #1-- I put the wheel back on the bike before inflating the tube. Of course there was a pinch (mistake #2), and of course it flatted. Wheel off the bike, tube out, new tube in, check for pinches-- for real this time-- inflate, wheel back on the bike. About the time I was putting the trainer spindle (?) through the wheel I heard dripping. What was that? It was my handlebar spilling my beer all over the windowsill (mistake #3). So much for drinking on a schoolnight! But I was sure the hard part was over. All I had left to do was throw Lucy on the trainer and rearrange my closet-sized apartment to fit the new piece of furniture.
I clearly overestimated my trainer and furniture-moving expertise (mistake #4). I couldn't get the bike to get on the trainer because I had the rubby thingy all the way jacked up from moving it to Saint Louis and didn't realize it. The cat was playing with the front wheel holder. I was frazzled, and it wasn’t pretty. After some time, a broken futon (and a broken bed for me!), and lots of cursing, I had everything worked out. It was shameful how much of an ordeal it was-- and we shall never speak of it again.
Are you ready for Friday?
I’ll start with the first bike story. It finally turned cold here, so I could justify putting Lucy on the trainer rather than hunt for excuses not to ride around town. After a fun dinner with the new “girls” on Thursday I came home, did a tiny ab workout, cracked open a beer, and went to work on “winterizing” my bike. I took off my back wheel, and proceeded to change the tire to an old one-- no sense in ruining my new ones on the trainer, right? [I had a little trainer debacle in 2005 where I shredded my tire and it nearly exploded from what I assume was the wrong amount of pressure on the back rubby thingy... admittedly, it would have been a much better story if it had exploded. Maybe next time?] I took off the black (new) tire, which was harder than I remember, and put the red/old tire on, which was also harder than I remember. Here I committed mistake #1-- I put the wheel back on the bike before inflating the tube. Of course there was a pinch (mistake #2), and of course it flatted. Wheel off the bike, tube out, new tube in, check for pinches-- for real this time-- inflate, wheel back on the bike. About the time I was putting the trainer spindle (?) through the wheel I heard dripping. What was that? It was my handlebar spilling my beer all over the windowsill (mistake #3). So much for drinking on a schoolnight! But I was sure the hard part was over. All I had left to do was throw Lucy on the trainer and rearrange my closet-sized apartment to fit the new piece of furniture.
I clearly overestimated my trainer and furniture-moving expertise (mistake #4). I couldn't get the bike to get on the trainer because I had the rubby thingy all the way jacked up from moving it to Saint Louis and didn't realize it. The cat was playing with the front wheel holder. I was frazzled, and it wasn’t pretty. After some time, a broken futon (and a broken bed for me!), and lots of cursing, I had everything worked out. It was shameful how much of an ordeal it was-- and we shall never speak of it again.
Are you ready for Friday?
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Guess who passed the patent bar today?
Me! Woo hoo!
They call it a provisional pass, but I don't think I'm in any danger of losing my right of passage (ha!). It wasn't as hard as I was expecting.
Look for a post after my writing assignment is turned in Monday and I've sufficiently recovered or celebrated my weekend accomplishments. *wink wink*
They call it a provisional pass, but I don't think I'm in any danger of losing my right of passage (ha!). It wasn't as hard as I was expecting.
Look for a post after my writing assignment is turned in Monday and I've sufficiently recovered or celebrated my weekend accomplishments. *wink wink*
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Mid 70s? No rain? Is this the same course?!
This isn't a law school post. Why? Because actual law school has kept me busy enough that I don't have time (okay, minor exaggeration... I've had a rough second week of school since I spent hours this week looking at new computers). I suppose it's only interesting to me anyway; law school's been done before. It just happens to be like an academic nirvana for me personally. Maybe later I'll put you to sleep with it, but now I only have time for an Ironman Wisconsin post.
I'm heading out tomorrow to drive up (grr after a Contracts makeup class during freaking happy hour and what should have been my third hour of driving). The forecast? Beautiful. The race cast? Beautiful. I'm so excited to see old faces and meet some new ones, like the elusive Wendy and Brent, both of whom I missed in Arizona. I'm stoked for my volunteer meeting on Saturday. I'm stoked for some wannabe Gatorade swim action (around 9:30 on Saturday-- anyone wanna meet up for a quick dip??). Basically, I'm just so freaking stoked to be watching the drama-- real or melo-- unfold before me. It's gonna be a blast.
The only bad news? I can't stay til the end of the race anymore. I'm only volunteering at the finish line until 8 pm, then am driving home around 9 or so-- whenever my favorite Houston virgin gets that m-dot cherry popped. Call me crazy but the idea of getting up at 4 AM after volunteering til 12:15 AM had me a little nervous about dying on the road and/or missing my 10 AM Torts class. Sorry kids, but school comes first.
Speaking of which, I have to get some stuff done before I head up north. Sleep well and see you on the course or at the finish line!
(Oh, if you want to me up, feel free to email me or use my cell number if you have it. I swear I'll pick it up this weekend!)
I'm heading out tomorrow to drive up (grr after a Contracts makeup class during freaking happy hour and what should have been my third hour of driving). The forecast? Beautiful. The race cast? Beautiful. I'm so excited to see old faces and meet some new ones, like the elusive Wendy and Brent, both of whom I missed in Arizona. I'm stoked for my volunteer meeting on Saturday. I'm stoked for some wannabe Gatorade swim action (around 9:30 on Saturday-- anyone wanna meet up for a quick dip??). Basically, I'm just so freaking stoked to be watching the drama-- real or melo-- unfold before me. It's gonna be a blast.
The only bad news? I can't stay til the end of the race anymore. I'm only volunteering at the finish line until 8 pm, then am driving home around 9 or so-- whenever my favorite Houston virgin gets that m-dot cherry popped. Call me crazy but the idea of getting up at 4 AM after volunteering til 12:15 AM had me a little nervous about dying on the road and/or missing my 10 AM Torts class. Sorry kids, but school comes first.
Speaking of which, I have to get some stuff done before I head up north. Sleep well and see you on the course or at the finish line!
(Oh, if you want to me up, feel free to email me or use my cell number if you have it. I swear I'll pick it up this weekend!)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Master Plans
Today is my very first day of law school. And what am I doing? Reviewing my reading? Fretting about classes? Nope.
I'm blogging.
The truth is I'm sitting pretty with my work this week and I only have one class today. I'm nervous, and I have hours til class to get progressively more so. Yeesh!
This won't be too long (I actually do want to get some more reading done before this afternoon...) but it is important. I have two plans I want to share in hopes of being more accountable for them in the upcoming year/years. Plan 1: the don't get enormously fat plan. Last winter I beefed up to 12 pounds over my racing weight from Wisconsin and Arizona. I think that's simply revolting from a 24-year-old, and I don't intend to do it again. Here's my plan: leave law school at what you came in (152) and you can have any bike you want, Mishele. I can't be sure of my financial situation of course, but that's not the point (I suppose I don't have to buy it the minute I graduate). The point is to have the permission to get whatever the heck I want.
I told the plan to K first. Her response? "If you're the same girl that's going into law school, you're not going to buy a $6,000 bike." And she's right; I believe you have to earn your toys. So maybe I'll just get a little step up and sell Lucy to a newbie. Maybe I'll buy a decent road bike. Doesn't matter right now does it?
The only problem with the plan is I've lost 4 pounds since I moved here. I don't have as much time to eat as I did when I worked, though I suspect I'll start eating again soon. In the short term I'm chilling out with the workouts and am down to 2 mile runs because I want to take it easy and make time for some physical therapy. My feet just haven't been the same all year and I'm afraid. I'm looking to do a half marathon in January-February and maybe, if all goes well, the St. Louis marathon in March. StL was my first marathon (untrained of course, but that time it was on accident), so I'm hoping to break my time of 4:52 from 2004. If the plan works as well as it should I hope to break it by an hour... we'll see.
And Plan 2:
IM Louisville. Hey you Cincinnatians-- get your hineys down to watch me race. Just once. Please? I signed up and had to pay with my debit card, which was strangely more painful than paying with my credit card. Maybe it was just stressful because I don't know the card number and was worried about some 2-minute sell out craziness like Lake Placid (like Louisville would ever be as cool and popular as Lake Placid). I don't know. Anyway, I'll see you kids back in Ironform on August 31, 2008... hopefully I don't gain 10 pounds of muscle in the meantime. ;-)
Woo hoo! Off to study/learn/be humiliated? :)
I'm blogging.
The truth is I'm sitting pretty with my work this week and I only have one class today. I'm nervous, and I have hours til class to get progressively more so. Yeesh!
This won't be too long (I actually do want to get some more reading done before this afternoon...) but it is important. I have two plans I want to share in hopes of being more accountable for them in the upcoming year/years. Plan 1: the don't get enormously fat plan. Last winter I beefed up to 12 pounds over my racing weight from Wisconsin and Arizona. I think that's simply revolting from a 24-year-old, and I don't intend to do it again. Here's my plan: leave law school at what you came in (152) and you can have any bike you want, Mishele. I can't be sure of my financial situation of course, but that's not the point (I suppose I don't have to buy it the minute I graduate). The point is to have the permission to get whatever the heck I want.
I told the plan to K first. Her response? "If you're the same girl that's going into law school, you're not going to buy a $6,000 bike." And she's right; I believe you have to earn your toys. So maybe I'll just get a little step up and sell Lucy to a newbie. Maybe I'll buy a decent road bike. Doesn't matter right now does it?
The only problem with the plan is I've lost 4 pounds since I moved here. I don't have as much time to eat as I did when I worked, though I suspect I'll start eating again soon. In the short term I'm chilling out with the workouts and am down to 2 mile runs because I want to take it easy and make time for some physical therapy. My feet just haven't been the same all year and I'm afraid. I'm looking to do a half marathon in January-February and maybe, if all goes well, the St. Louis marathon in March. StL was my first marathon (untrained of course, but that time it was on accident), so I'm hoping to break my time of 4:52 from 2004. If the plan works as well as it should I hope to break it by an hour... we'll see.
And Plan 2:
IM Louisville. Hey you Cincinnatians-- get your hineys down to watch me race. Just once. Please? I signed up and had to pay with my debit card, which was strangely more painful than paying with my credit card. Maybe it was just stressful because I don't know the card number and was worried about some 2-minute sell out craziness like Lake Placid (like Louisville would ever be as cool and popular as Lake Placid). I don't know. Anyway, I'll see you kids back in Ironform on August 31, 2008... hopefully I don't gain 10 pounds of muscle in the meantime. ;-)
Woo hoo! Off to study/learn/be humiliated? :)
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
It's not all bad
Believe it or not, my everyday life is not in shambles. I’m just tired and stressed; it’ll all go away on April 15th, so bear with me folks. Why the 15th? Law schools and NA Sports collaborated to put all my spring stress on one fine date: law school decision and my first race o’ the season. But I can do it. Taper has given me the light at the end of the tunnel.
First, the run. Two weekends ago (when I got in that Friday 4 hour aquajog that sucked because I forgot to bring anything to eat except part of a bag of sports beans and a 20 oz gatorade I found hidden in my bag), I ran for the first time. My rationale: it was too late to run very far, but I needed to know that my body could run some of the marathon. I have some pride every now and then. So Saturday when I tried 1.6 miles.
I flew.
“Easy” was 9:00 miles, about 30-60 seconds faster than I’m used to. I was stoked. So on Sunday, I opted to run again after 7.5 hour ride. I ran 2.4 this time, and as expected I felt like dookie off the bike. My first .8 mile lap came in at 8:11, and I was pleased with my pace. The next two laps? Negative split. Once I got my legs under me and I wasn’t even touching the ground. I pulled a 7:00 second lap and a 6:53 third lap, again not feeling all that tired. Could using my glutes and hammies actually make me faster? Apparently. 22:04 is not a usual time for me for a 2.4 mile jaunt after 115ish mile ride. Still, my foot ached a bit so I decided to quit while I was ahead.
I went to PT two days later and my therapist asked me if I’d run yet. I almost said no since I hadn’t been given permission, but I fessed up. She nodded at my progress and told me I could run 3 miles every other day, but not after I biked anymore--a reasonable rule I can follow. After a week of running with no serious pain, she told me yesterday I could up it to 4 miles and that I only had one more PT session left. I’m going to graduate from physical therapy before Arizona!!
So what did I do with that permission to go longer? Decide to run 6 of course. I did my last longish run last night--6.2 on the ‘mill and 7 in the pool. Today I’m a little sore, but it’s mostly from the PT. If I can run half the marathon at the Y I can make it at least that far in AZ. I’ll be mighty sore come the 16th but I think I can do it. Oh confidence, how I’ve missed you.
My swim isn’t going down the toilet either. Last week I was too lazy to come up with a practice so I opted to do 2x1000 moderate as a yard-eating main set. I rolled in my first on at 14:38 (1:28/100yd), about a minute faster than I was expecting. After a minute of rest I was off to the races, determined to keep it under 15 again. As I swam I felt fatigue setting in; I worried that I’d missed a 50 on my previous 1000. The slower I felt, the faster I swam, fearing the time I’d see when I finished. My second 1000 was considerably higher effort--especially the last 300--but I was relieved to see I came in at 14:29 (1:27/100yd). Yea! It meant my first wasn’t a mistake and my swim ability is the same as last year. Since I’m not looking to improve my swim time I’m ready to roll!
Finally, I’m only $105 away from my fundraising goal. It’s exciting. Still, I have a ways to go so please, please help out if you can.
11 more days. Sometimes it seems so easy. Sometimes.
First, the run. Two weekends ago (when I got in that Friday 4 hour aquajog that sucked because I forgot to bring anything to eat except part of a bag of sports beans and a 20 oz gatorade I found hidden in my bag), I ran for the first time. My rationale: it was too late to run very far, but I needed to know that my body could run some of the marathon. I have some pride every now and then. So Saturday when I tried 1.6 miles.
I flew.
“Easy” was 9:00 miles, about 30-60 seconds faster than I’m used to. I was stoked. So on Sunday, I opted to run again after 7.5 hour ride. I ran 2.4 this time, and as expected I felt like dookie off the bike. My first .8 mile lap came in at 8:11, and I was pleased with my pace. The next two laps? Negative split. Once I got my legs under me and I wasn’t even touching the ground. I pulled a 7:00 second lap and a 6:53 third lap, again not feeling all that tired. Could using my glutes and hammies actually make me faster? Apparently. 22:04 is not a usual time for me for a 2.4 mile jaunt after 115ish mile ride. Still, my foot ached a bit so I decided to quit while I was ahead.
I went to PT two days later and my therapist asked me if I’d run yet. I almost said no since I hadn’t been given permission, but I fessed up. She nodded at my progress and told me I could run 3 miles every other day, but not after I biked anymore--a reasonable rule I can follow. After a week of running with no serious pain, she told me yesterday I could up it to 4 miles and that I only had one more PT session left. I’m going to graduate from physical therapy before Arizona!!
So what did I do with that permission to go longer? Decide to run 6 of course. I did my last longish run last night--6.2 on the ‘mill and 7 in the pool. Today I’m a little sore, but it’s mostly from the PT. If I can run half the marathon at the Y I can make it at least that far in AZ. I’ll be mighty sore come the 16th but I think I can do it. Oh confidence, how I’ve missed you.
My swim isn’t going down the toilet either. Last week I was too lazy to come up with a practice so I opted to do 2x1000 moderate as a yard-eating main set. I rolled in my first on at 14:38 (1:28/100yd), about a minute faster than I was expecting. After a minute of rest I was off to the races, determined to keep it under 15 again. As I swam I felt fatigue setting in; I worried that I’d missed a 50 on my previous 1000. The slower I felt, the faster I swam, fearing the time I’d see when I finished. My second 1000 was considerably higher effort--especially the last 300--but I was relieved to see I came in at 14:29 (1:27/100yd). Yea! It meant my first wasn’t a mistake and my swim ability is the same as last year. Since I’m not looking to improve my swim time I’m ready to roll!
Finally, I’m only $105 away from my fundraising goal. It’s exciting. Still, I have a ways to go so please, please help out if you can.
11 more days. Sometimes it seems so easy. Sometimes.
Friday, December 29, 2006
It was a very good year
I'll be MIA over the next week because I'll be on vacation. Before you get jealous, it's supposed to rain during the meat of the cruise, so I'm not sure what that'll mean for our trips. No matter what I'm having fun though; I'm kinda glad I know about the potential crappy weather so I can mentally prepare to have an awesome time anyway. How's that for positive?
Here’s the 2006 list of Shele schtuff. Lists are easier than actually thinking about the ending year and what it means to me. Or whatever. Here goes...
Kittens acquired: 1
Jobs lost: 0 (count your blessings, eh?)
Moves: 0!
Pounds gained: 11 (ew!)
Months without candy: 1
Trips taken: 12
06 World Series won by the best team ever (in my heart at least): 1
Totally sweet sponsorships acquired: 1
Watches purchased: 1
Watches broken: 1 (curses!)
Marathons: 1
Tri Sprints: 2
Half IMs: 1
Ironmans (ironmen? Irondistances?): 2
Ultradistances: 1
DNFs: 0
PRs: 3 (10k, sprint tri, ironman)
Bikes purchased: 1
Bikes owned: 2.1
Not a bad year if I may say so. I've made some new friends—in fact, all my non-work friends are brand spanking new thanks to triathlon; Houston Racing changed my life, and blogging has been surprisingly encouraging. Who knew? May I keep my new buddies in the next year despite being a grumpy ol’ fart. What next year will bring is still more of a mystery than I'd like (case in point: no tris planned after Arizona. What shall I do? Where should I go? I can't decide!), but it's pretty exciting nonetheless. Life is good.
Happy new year to you guys! Go 2007! Woo!
Here’s the 2006 list of Shele schtuff. Lists are easier than actually thinking about the ending year and what it means to me. Or whatever. Here goes...
Kittens acquired: 1
Jobs lost: 0 (count your blessings, eh?)
Moves: 0!
Pounds gained: 11 (ew!)
Months without candy: 1
Trips taken: 12
06 World Series won by the best team ever (in my heart at least): 1
Totally sweet sponsorships acquired: 1
Watches purchased: 1
Watches broken: 1 (curses!)
Marathons: 1
Tri Sprints: 2
Half IMs: 1
Ironmans (ironmen? Irondistances?): 2
Ultradistances: 1
DNFs: 0
PRs: 3 (10k, sprint tri, ironman)
Bikes purchased: 1
Bikes owned: 2.1
Not a bad year if I may say so. I've made some new friends—in fact, all my non-work friends are brand spanking new thanks to triathlon; Houston Racing changed my life, and blogging has been surprisingly encouraging. Who knew? May I keep my new buddies in the next year despite being a grumpy ol’ fart. What next year will bring is still more of a mystery than I'd like (case in point: no tris planned after Arizona. What shall I do? Where should I go? I can't decide!), but it's pretty exciting nonetheless. Life is good.
Happy new year to you guys! Go 2007! Woo!
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