Dateline: Dorchester Heights 12/31/11

3:20 p.m.

All hail the feet that ran 1,000 miles this year without injury, without complaint.

Many thanks.

(And onto the next year, my friends.)

And 17 miles to run ....

....with 4 days to do it.

(Thought y'all needed to be reassured that despite consumption of approximately 128 Christmas cookies since I first mentioned having 60 to go,  my weekend in MSP with the family did not throw me off track, my legs are strong, my spirit is strong, my gym is open, my schedule is open, my iPod is charged, and Mother Nature is seemingly holding off on the snow and cold for my exclusive benefit.)

And therefore I say again:

I want this.
It will happen.

A little metta with my coffee...

If I were to write here what I was planning to write --

-- which was that at 12:45 this morning I was running 8-minute miles through Southie, in shorts and baseball cap, through the most unlikely of hurricane-strength downpours (never a sentence I'd expect to write on the first day of winter in Boston) and how even though I was drenched, I was invigorated, and how even running uphill into the rain and headwind and with water squishing in the lining of my shoes from the massive puddles felt good in that "I'm running through a metaphor about perseverance and overcoming adverse conditions and enjoying it" kind of way --

-- you'd probably correctly guess that I did not sleep enough last night, that I felt restless and wired from too many Christmas cookies and joy over having (amazingly, before the day itself!) completing my Christmas letter, that I stayed up way later than I should have and woke up pretty out-of-sorts.

Arriving in the office, though, I found a "Seasons Greetings" e-mail from my only known friend who embraces Buddhism in a real and comprehensive way-- a former co-worker from Minnesota, go figure.  Here were his greetings. 

Metta

"Monks, whatever kinds of worldly merit there are, all are not worth one sixteenth part of the heart-deliverance of loving-friendliness; in shining and beaming and radiance the heart-deliverance of loving-friendliness far excels them.

Just as whatever light there is of stars, all is not worth one sixteenth part of the moon's light; in shining and beaming and radiance the moon's light far excels it;

and just as in the last month of the Rains, in the Autumn when the heavens clear, the sun as he climbs the heavens drives all darkness from the sky with his shining and beaming and radiating;

and just as, when night turning to dawn, the Morning Star is shining and beaming and radiating;

so too, whatever kinds of worldly merit there are, all are not worth one sixteenth part of the heart-deliverance of loving-friendliness; in shining and beaming and radiance the heart-deliverance of loving-friendliness far excels them."

Buddha

Wishing you a metta, metta christmas and a metta new year...

In case you've not heard of the term metta, it has a lengthy definition, in part:  "a multi-significant term meaning loving-kindness, friendliness, goodwill, benevolence, fellowship, amity, concord, inoffensiveness and non-violence ...  the strong wish for the welfare and happiness of others ...  altruistic attitude of love and friendliness as distinguished from mere amiability based on self-interest." 

Richard's sentiments brought down my heart rate and shored up my focus for this last, hectic day before the holiday -- for which I'm grateful -- and reminded me of the many multi-significant and lovely people in my life I should also be grateful for.

And (60) miles to run....

... before I can rest
on January 1 and
relish in knowing
I logged
1000 (miles)
on these feet
in 2011.

Which means running
3.157 miles per day
each of the next 19 days.

Even if it's below zero, or
raining, or
Post-workplace-holiday-party-hangover Day, or
Christmas Eve in Minneapolis.

It will happen.
I want this.

(Off to knock off 5 more.)

It's lunchtime on Monday ....

... and I can't focus for s***.

It's the truth, and a common one for the Monday after a 3.5-day weekend.

One thought pulling my brain in directions it shouldn't go:  that I haven't blogged since Thursday and don't foresee the focus to do so anytime soon.

Thusly, I've decided reconcile the truth and the dilemma by spitting out a list of random thoughts, like:

1) Just finished today's Lunch of Champions:  peach Chobani Greek yogurt mixed with raw oatmeal, followed by baby carrots dipped in Jif. 

2) I am now officially hungry all the time (thanks, marathon training). Already trying to not think about what to have for a snack and when to have it.

3) My quadriceps are still demolished from the combination of driving the 15-person van (too much accelerator pressing?), the brisk cold, and the 20 miles of  Legs 10, 21 and 32 during Reach the Beach through rural New Hampshire Friday and Saturday.

4) I still wish I had gotten a photo at 6:25 Saturday morning around mile 5.5 of Leg 21 on Stage Road outside of Gilmanton when, following a taxing 500-foot elevation climb past cows and farms and frost-covered grasses, the sun came over the horizon to light the misty mountains and valleys like an Ansel Adams print, as if a reward for putting myself through hell first.

5)  Being tired and sore this morning, it's a relief to see the President playing a bit of hardball on tax increases so I don't have to be cranky about intransigent Republicans, as well.

6) Can I convey that if hamstrings and quadriceps could speak, they would tell me that they simply cannot wait for a power yoga class at 7 p.m. .... Monday, move faster please!

7)  I wiped down the shelves in my refrigerator last night for the first time in 5 years. They were gross; now they are not. That is all.

8) Did I tell y'all the the Man from San Francisco is coming to visit?  That he'll be here for 8 days starting on Saturday?  Guess I'm telling you now.  I strongly suggest he and I are both looking forward to it.

9) It seems to be autumn now in these parts.  Bring it.

10) How did I let 2 years pass in forgetting that WERS radio streams live online and is the perfect get-back-to-work-on-Monday-when-rather-would-be-doing-just-about-anything-else music soundtrack?  Rock on. 

(And work on ..... )

A (sort of) Good Poem

There once was a girl
Who had great intentions
Of a great Thursday blogpost

But who was instead
consumed by
work (really!) and
getting ready to leave for
Reach the Beach Relay
(her 5th occasion of)
and ended up with
nothing to say and
no time to say it.

So, instead
she will
just post
a photo of the
Bubbly Sex Pot

(at Prohibition in downtown MSP)
and the
(inebriated) feet
of the 6 girls
who drank 2 of them
and lived to tell the tale.

(She realized it had been a
good party and
she'd never
told you about it.
You can guess
which one is her,
if you want.)

And
she'll see you again
on Sunday
(20 miles o'running
worse, or better,
for the wear).

...and it's only Wednesday

It's been quite the week.

So far:

1) The New Yorker acknowledges online dating on the same day that I get a message from an OKC guy calling himself "Guy Noir."

2) Meteorologists acknowledge the following extended weather forecast for the Boston area:

Saturday, July 2: Beach Weather
Sunday, July 3: Beach Weather
Monday, July 4: Beach weather.

3)   I acknowledge that the Marine Corps Marathon is 17.75 weeks away, and if I'm going to do an 18-week training plan I'd better start running, even if it is Beach Weather.

4) Biking to work today, circling around on Trinity Place towards the Stuart Street Starbucks, I nearly knock over House Speaker John Boehner of Ohio (dressed in a golf shirt and emerging from a town car), relieved the state troopers flanking him didn't think I was doing it on purpose.

(A**)-kicking

I last saw Bill in the flesh several months ago, on a 5-mile(psychotic) (running) tour of the South Boston waterfront on a black, icy, blustery January night.

It was definitely time to do a post-work run together again -- and besides, spring had arrived -- so he and I put another 5-miler on the calendar for tonight at 6:30. This time we're meeting at Artesani Park in Brighton and looping the Charles River for old time's sake.

It goes without saying that today ends up being the only night in a 2-week window that the weather is once again:

1) Black. As in blanket fog.

2) Icy. As in temperatures nearing freezing.

3) Blustery. As in blanket rain. As in all day. As in the kind that leaves ankle-deep puddles on the corners.

Besides, I've told you I'm tired and today I'm still tired. (This status refuses to change for some reason).

At 9 a.m., after walking 4 blocks across the Back Bay into the gale to work, I checked in with Bill. Kind of hoping he'd say, Um, yeah right, like we're going to run on the river and drench and muddy and chill ourselves. And that maybe we'd decide together to postpone it to the weekend. And maybe I could just go home after work tonight and sleep....

K:  Seriously. Drove in in a downpour.

B: It's going to be a wet run tonight. I brought lots of clothes to change into after.

K: Seriously. This is the only day we get rain this week….

B: Better than a heat wave.

And that was that. No rising to the bait. No acquiescing to my wimp-out. Which means I'm going to put on my windbreaker and Red Sox cap and go with my friend to catch a fiver. Probably a cold, too.

All because Bill and I are runners, damn it, and as a result, are gluttons for a good A**-kicking from time to time.

Which is probably good for our souls. Please let it be good for our souls.

Just pray we come out alive on the other side.

Day 13 of 30:  4.85 miles

April Total: 27.03

2011 Total: 181.02

Report card

For those of you curious if I ever do anything anymore that I proclaim (via this blog) I'm going to make myself do ....

1) The Year of Making Coffee? FAIL  I'm back to buying Dunkin' Donuts and/or Starbucks coffee drinks every day. Damn tax refund, for causing momentary flushness.  Although Lent is on the horizon .... with its reminder of the need for sacrifices.  Stay tuned.

2) Quit Online Dating? B-  Caved last week and rewrote my OKC profile to see if it entices hits from a different breed than I had been attracting the last 6 months.  But take heart: when a 22-y-old engineer who, after initial sweetness, began detailing unsolicited fantasies about a fetish I can't even think about without throwing up in my mouth a little, I didn't reason, just ignored him. I think he has gone away.

3) Run every day, no less than 2 miles a day?   B+ After tonight I will have clocked 103.6 miles in 2011 to date.  Not every day. But 103.6 divided by 49 days = 2.11. (Whew.)

4) Great Cosmo Challenge?  Eh.  Baby steps.  Last week:  contemplated the 22 date ideas. Yesterday: fed the list into a Google Docs spreadsheet for easy further review. Tomorrow: contemplating them further. In the meantime: if you know of any co-ed rec leagues that might take a chance on a shorter-than-average girl, get thee your suggestions to my comment box.

5) Major Shake Up?  Better than Eh.  Fear not, I haven't given up.  It's been on my mind.   I have a serious thought as to executing such .... but I'd rather figure out the logistics before spilling what it is. 

In the meantime, I have started wearing everyday earrings, something I haven't done since 2003. In the last week I have received 5 male-based comments on my "pretty" appearance, all while pulling my (in serious need of haircut) hair back and wearing these $4 hoops from Target. 

Coincidence? Can major shake-ups come in smaller packages than originally conceived?

As in, should I just have been exposing my neck and collarbone all this time?

Day 27 of 28: 1.8 miles

Day 28 of 28: 2.8 miles

February Total: 53.05

2011 Total: 103.6

Just do something.

I've had more stellar beginnings to new years than this one.

Including 2002 ... the 3 apple martinis and a double-shot of Jägermeister in under an hour, followed by 3 hours of bringing it all back up on the dance floor of Club Cafe, followed by 2-day hangover.

That felt stupid but temporary. 

This weekend felt markedly less stellar from a general state of wellness.  A low point after a long, slow descent.  Funk with a capital F. 

Brought on in some ways by waking up January 1 with a toothache, facial scab, chapped lips and no voice.  Reminded that the guy I've tried to date the last 2 months just wants a glorified booty call every couple weeks.  That the apartment still smells like cat litter, even though it was just changed.  That after successful marathon execution on November 21, I've not found the energy to run anywhere near 26.2 miles in the last 6 weeks. That I've eaten little other than sharp cheddar, diet orange soda and Christmas cookies in those 6 weeks.  And my favorite jeans ripped down the thigh yesterday.

Time to buck up, campers.  Time to put the brakes on the downward slide.

A daily run, I think, for the next month. Minimum.  Two-mile minimum.  Out of doors.  No exceptions for blizzards and sub-zero temps. No exceptions for chapped lips and toothaches and 40-something men being selfish.

No exceptions for despair over ripped denim.

Day 2 of 31: 4.27

January total: 6.89

Dateline: 1/01/11 Southie (11:38 pm)

Well, if I don't get to start the year with a boyfriend, at least I get to end the first day of it with a 25-minute run through the snow, in shorts.

(Day 1 of 31: 2.62 miles

January total:  2.62 miles)

Dateline: 9/18/10 Hampton, NH

One more Reach the Beach Relay down.

One more traverse of the state of New Hampshire,
on foot.

20.46 miles in 182 minutes.  

(Yup ... sub-9s.)

29 hours spent either in a conversion van 

or running

or eating either dried fruit 

or spaghetti at Joseph's Spaghetti Shed in Bartlett

or sleeping 

(for about 5 of those 29)

and doing all these things

in proximity to

 my 10 teammates from

Cheap Yellow Mustard,

who ran the rest of the 200 miles involved.

Time to rest the feet.

And time for some sleep.

More later.

Number 7

The Top 7 Reasons to celebrate registering for my 7th marathon:

7.  It's Philadelphia, the other birthplace of our nation. Enough said.

6.  Deep deep deep down in my soul .... I have missed Saturday 8 a.m. long runs.

5.  The chance to discover if Saturday 8 a.m. long runs in September could possibly be more enjoyable than those in January and Feburary.

4.  My bikini will, simply, fit better.

3.  I can eat everything I want (and more) for the next 4 months and still, my bikini will, simply, fit better.

2.  I can also, perhaps, convince myself that I can stay healthy and stay focused and maybe, after all this time, run a Boston Qualifier time.

1. My new nephew may very well arrive on Race Day.

(Very, very cool.)

Stasis, thy name is mud....

Wow.  I have now felt what it feels like to decide, at present, that I no longer wish to let my inertia kick me in the butt and, instead, wish to kick it back.

The beatdown began Thursday night, as I sat in the office until 10:15 p.m. -- actually working until 10:15 p.m.  In doing so I cleared easily 20 tasks from my to-do list that had been on the list for a week or more.

Sure, I would have rather been sitting with a pitcher of PBR singing karaoke.  I would rather have had Peter Saarsgard giving me a foot massage. 

But damn, did it break the seal.

Friday night:  home from the gym at 9:30 p.m. and no longer able to stand the state of apartment. Dusted. Vacuumed. Purged foot-high pile of paper on my kitchen table.  Cleaned 2-month old egg detritus out of the microwave.  Windexed winter smudge off the patio doors.  Ran the stove grates through the dishwasher. Swept, then scrubbed living room and kitchen floor on hands and knees.  At 3 a.m., ceased activity, checked e-mail, downed a Long Trail Double Bag Ale, fell asleep like a baby on codeine

Saturday:  removed contents of medicine cabinet, wiped shelves, returned contents in sorted, logical fashion. Mailed package to nephew that should have been mailed 2 weeks ago.  Dropped 2 bags of clothes at the Goodwill, including my post-college interview suit hanging in my closet since 1994. Bought groceries and made a trip to the drugstore, using up stack of coupons from aforementioned kitchen table pile.  Removed Tupperware tub of old bedding unopened for 3 years, shook out moths, threw out more collegiate-era items.  Washed and dried the rest of contents, along with 3 additional loads of laundry.  Scrubbed down outside bedroom windows with soapy water.   While outside with step-ladder, pruned unruly boulevard tree with kitchen shears.

Sunday:  ran a 10K in the morning in 54 minutes, in the process catching up with  Bill and his family, who I haven't seen in 10 months.  Stopped at Home Depot to buy moth repellent devices. Got home, napped for energy.  Changed the cat litter.  Awoke and began laundering all earthly bedding and packing it with with moth repellent into trunk in storage unit.  In process, spent 4 unanticipated hours sorting all contents of basement storage unit, breaking down 15 shoe boxes and 15 more damp moving boxes last used in 2006.  Swept the basement floor.  At 12:30 a.m., in wind-down mode, logged onto OKC.  Purged all random IM messages and wrote several men to whom I had not yet replied, despite intentions.  Searched for awhile longer ... suddenly aware that the uncluttered mind has a lot of room to scope when not stressed about backlogged work, backlogged linens and unpruned boulevard tree.

Meanwhile, Monday is off to a wicked fast start.  I've already completed most of my day's tasks and know exactly how and when I'm going to finish the rest of them.

Amen.

Getting out of town

Even when the wind blows 21 mph and it feels like 11 degrees and no one told you ahead of time that the town of Gardner, MA (The Chair City!) has a bunch of 60-degree uphills that demand to be run uphill, it's a lot easier to finish a 10K in a bitter February wind when one of your best girl friends comes along for the ride and, after the race, agrees to go back out to the 4-mile marker to pose, as if proof were necessary.

(Well, if not necessary, a fun road trip, indeed. Thanks, C.)

The lonely road, from the runner's view.

The runner, revisiting the road.

The one-gloved photographer, with iPhone.

Cookie Day Pledge

I, Karin,

having ordered

1 box Lemonades
+
1 box PB Patties
+
1 box PB Sandwiches

(who, even with co-workers who, now fully recovered from Christmas season treat gluttony overload, are more than willing to snack if you put them out on the counter, was able to consume roughly half of said cookies in a single afternoon of spreadsheet composing)

hereby decree to reassert in public

(my previously private) pledge

to complete

1 10K road race
for each of the
12 months of
2010.

January's done.

February will be represented by this one, this Sunday.

(Which means I'd better leave the office right now

and

go for a run.)

Dateline: Salisbury Beach MA 01/01/10

12:53 pm: upon completing the Hangover Classic 10K, watching the Optional Ocean Plunge.

For 5 minutes there on the beach, still warmed through from the run, watching the fearless, shirtless wave divers acting out a prime metaphor for rebirth and washing clean, despite the sub-freezing temps, I wished I had thought to bring a towel.

Seeking the groove

Last night at 10:50 I went running through Southie until exactly 11:20.

It was a hard 30 minutes. Creaky knees, creaky ankles. Labored breathing. I looked at my watch every 90 seconds. While slogging the final 3/4 mile uphill on Dorchester Street to the intersection at Broadway, I was convinced my lungs were going to give way.

(They didn't. A relief to my neighbors, I'm sure, to not have to endure a 911 ambulance call at that hour.)

Other than the frozen pseudo-mile of the Speedo run Saturday, I haven't run in 16 days, my longest break since a 2005 hand-surgery hiatus. Last night felt like I'd never run.

But it was good to seek the groove again. Many nights in the last month I've talked myself out of needing to do this, convincing myself I had drinks to drink or stair-climbers at the gym more weather-friendly or laundry to do. Just like anything, then, the longer you talk yourself out of getting back to a habit you want to get back to, the higher the hill to overcome.

It was a g-mail conversation on Saturday with the Young Scientist (a serious speedster if you remember) that gave me an opening:

YS: You been running a lot recently?

K: Eh. Not at all, actually. I'm not running cause I feel sluggish....and feeling sluggish since I'm not running. I just signed up for a 10K on NYD, though, hoping that will spur me. Yourself?

YS: Been running with the intention of training again starting on the new year.

K: Like you ... I need a fresh start...

YS: start now by doing 30 min per day, or so. after the race do the real training

That was the key: the 30 minutes a day. I can run 30 minutes a day.... can't I?

I'm not going to keep a running (ha!) tabulation in this space to prove I can. Although I'll most likely publicly flog myself if I don't. Stay tuned.

This Week's Sign that The Apocalypse is Upon Us

Perhaps .... that I unexpectedly and entirely whole-heartedly cried this morning when leaving my final physical therapy appointment with Ian?

Either I'm taking this supposed autumnal loneliness factor too seriously or I'm just really, really, really already nostalgic for those 6 months of weekly hip massages and manual groin stretches.

**with props to old school Sports Illustrated.

Dateline: Franklin Park 10/11/09

Thanks, AB&C (and C's rents) for showing up at the halfway of today's half-marathon, providing a much-needed adrenaline boost and unanticipated photo-op.

(Peace? Involuntary reflex. No intended commentary on Obama's gift from Norway this week. Although my choice in tank top unfortunately did not assist the home team.)

And no dramatic story here. The 1 hour 55 min finish fell squarely between my 2006 (1:52) and 2005 (1:59) finishes. The bursitis did not flare. The bones on the top of my left foot weirdly did but didn't make mischief. Weather= perfect.

Just another October Sunday in the city.