This is soooooo frustrating! I just took the bike off the back of the car--no lunch ride with Lulu. We decided we didn't want to be human lightning rods, riding around on aluminum bikes when the weather looks as shit-tastic as it does. That's fine, what I'm struggling with is, will it rain or won't it? If it doesn't, I'm going to be pissed.
In the meantime, I'm flipping back and forth between heading out the door and doing this loop course over and over and over again that keeps me very close to my house in case the skies really do open up. But every time I go to get on the bike, it looks like it's about to storm, so I come back inside. And then the sun comes out. Damn it!
This La Nina crap has got to end.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
6x800m Repeats
Here's the tell for when I haven't been working out: I don't post to my blog. I'm too ashamed, because I read about what everyone else has been doing, knowing I've been slacking off.
So, Monday I was supposed to do my track workout after work, only I glanced at the clock at one point late Monday and saw it was already 7 p.m. and I was still in the office. Fine, Monday would be my rest day, I could do the track workout as soon as I got home from Dallas on Tuesday.
Tuesday came and went without a workout--between this forced corporate fun thing we had at Dave & Buster's in the afternoon (which actually was kind of fun, but ran long) and the fact that people just can't seem to keep from wrecking their cars on IH-35, I didn't make it home until well after 7 p.m.
Anyway, TODAY I finally did my track workout: 6x800m with 200m recoveries. I did a two mile warm-up to start. The 800's were supposed to be at my "new" 5k pace, which I have arbitrarily deemed to be 7:00 mile pace--that means 3:30 pace for 800m. Here's how it actually went:
1st 800: 3:17, kind of pissed at myself for starting too fast
2nd 800: 3:16, damn it--I will be dead by the fifth rep if I don't slow down
3rd 800: 3:20, more like it, but strangely disappointing
4th 800: 3:21, hmmm, not looking good
5th 800: 3:17, still felt okay, but happy to be about done
6th 800: 3:18, considering I hit the first 400 at 1:41, I was proud of how strong I finished
Sitting here writing this, I know I could have gone faster--even just a second or two on each one. I also think I've discovered the key to running 800's. I thought of the first 200 of each one as nothing more than finding a rhythm. The next 200 I thought of as a warm-up. The third 200 I focused on keeping a consistent pace and not slowing down (when I ran the 800 in high school, my third 200 was always my slowest and I could never quite overcome that). The final 200 I thought of as trying to outrun the gorilla that always seems to want to jump on your back as you start to fatigue. And then, boom!, you're done.
It's funny, work has been so stressful, and I've had stuff going on in my personal life, too. Sometimes it's just so nice to get out there and do something life-affirming, cheesy as that sounds. Tonight was was that life-affirming thing. The only downside is that I'm riding with Lulu at lunch tomorrow, and on not-so-fresh legs, she is going to stomp me. Oh well, it'll still be fun!
So, Monday I was supposed to do my track workout after work, only I glanced at the clock at one point late Monday and saw it was already 7 p.m. and I was still in the office. Fine, Monday would be my rest day, I could do the track workout as soon as I got home from Dallas on Tuesday.
Tuesday came and went without a workout--between this forced corporate fun thing we had at Dave & Buster's in the afternoon (which actually was kind of fun, but ran long) and the fact that people just can't seem to keep from wrecking their cars on IH-35, I didn't make it home until well after 7 p.m.
Anyway, TODAY I finally did my track workout: 6x800m with 200m recoveries. I did a two mile warm-up to start. The 800's were supposed to be at my "new" 5k pace, which I have arbitrarily deemed to be 7:00 mile pace--that means 3:30 pace for 800m. Here's how it actually went:
1st 800: 3:17, kind of pissed at myself for starting too fast
2nd 800: 3:16, damn it--I will be dead by the fifth rep if I don't slow down
3rd 800: 3:20, more like it, but strangely disappointing
4th 800: 3:21, hmmm, not looking good
5th 800: 3:17, still felt okay, but happy to be about done
6th 800: 3:18, considering I hit the first 400 at 1:41, I was proud of how strong I finished
Sitting here writing this, I know I could have gone faster--even just a second or two on each one. I also think I've discovered the key to running 800's. I thought of the first 200 of each one as nothing more than finding a rhythm. The next 200 I thought of as a warm-up. The third 200 I focused on keeping a consistent pace and not slowing down (when I ran the 800 in high school, my third 200 was always my slowest and I could never quite overcome that). The final 200 I thought of as trying to outrun the gorilla that always seems to want to jump on your back as you start to fatigue. And then, boom!, you're done.
It's funny, work has been so stressful, and I've had stuff going on in my personal life, too. Sometimes it's just so nice to get out there and do something life-affirming, cheesy as that sounds. Tonight was was that life-affirming thing. The only downside is that I'm riding with Lulu at lunch tomorrow, and on not-so-fresh legs, she is going to stomp me. Oh well, it'll still be fun!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Sunday's Parmer Ride
I'm trying to get away from swearing as much as I historically have. I've been advised it's unbecoming. However, there is really only one way to describe Sunday's long ride: clusterfuck.
This was the monthly Austin Duathletes ride, and it was really fun, it's just that everything that could go wrong did go wrong (short of wrecks and carnage). We started at NXNW (basically 360 and 183) and wove our way over to Parmer. That went fine. But when we got to Parmer, there was a bunch of debris on the shoulder. I ride Parmer relatively regularly, and the shoulder is never clean, but it seemed worse than usual. Anyway, we hadn't been on Parmer but a few minutes before Mark flatted. The group was relatively large, and we all kept going, save for Panther who stayed behind to help Mark. After a bit, though, we all stopped and waited. Panther rejoined the group sans Mark and told the "B" group people to ride on ahead, the "A" group people would stay behind and wait on Mark and then catch up to the B group. Fine, off the B group went. After a couple more minutes, Mark caught up to those of us who had remained behind (Menard, Glenda, Dionn, Panther and me), and we took off to try and catch up to everyone else.
We got in a paceline and were moving at a nice speed (the wind was behind us--yippee!), but maybe a half mile north of 620, I flatted. I've never flatted on a ride before, but apparently I hit a rock just so and killed the front tire. It being that I've never flatted on the road before, I haven't had any experience with changing a tire at anything other than a really leisurely pace, usually with a lot of swearing involved. Dionn and Panther came back to assist. Pause here. Have you ever watched calf-roping? That's what it was like watching Panther change this tire. He could have done it faster had I not tapped my one and only CO2 cartridge early and let all the air out (he had to dig around for another).
We resumed riding, but made it maybe another mile, if that, before it became clear that Glenda was having derailleur problems. She couldn't pedal in anything but her lowest gears. We stopped again and Panther, Mark and Glenda tried to fix it, but nothing doing. Glenda wound up having to turn around early and head back.
So now the A group was down to five people, and we were starting to see a few members of the B group on the other side of Parmer, headed back in. Still, we maintained a reasonable pace the rest of the way out Parmer, all the way to the county road it eventually turns into. The county road is where the road turns really crappy, because they're in the process of taking Parmer all the way out to Hwy 29. We finally met up with the bulk of the B group, who were on their way back. They informed us that the road was closed at the bridge over the San Gabriel. In other words, those of us wanting to get a 50-miler in were going to wind up riding closer to 35, instead. Oh well, we kept going. By the time we got to the river, we were all still in a good mood, but a "fuck it" sort of mindset had set in. There seemed to be no point in going particularly fast (of course, this would change later), so all three guys took advantage of the opportunity for a biology break while Dionn and I waited around and commented on the fact that we like being female, but the standing-up-to-pee thing is a pretty nifty trick. Anyway, we were now poised to turn around at the bottom of this fairly steep hill, and we were facing a nice south headwind to boot. We had barely started moving before Dionn lost her chain. Fortunately, this was the last problem of the day, and, thankfully, a minor one at that.
Once we reached the top of the hill and got back onto Parmer proper, we formed another paceline--the headwind wasn't so much stiff as it was constant. I do better in a paceline when I'm a little tired--I'm not as jumpy and I can kind of get in this zone. We did the paceline all the way to 1431 before we ran across a group of riders, all in blue jerseys, something about the Brain & Spine Center or something. Anyway, we tucked in behind them, still in our paceline. They were going a little slow, and eventually Panther told us to pick it up and go around. Here's the only problem with that: once you go around, you have to stay out in front, otherwise, if they pass you, you look like a bunch of "bitches" to use Panther's term. So our paceline picked up a little head of steam. Not only that, but for whatever reason, on each of the hill climbs, I got to lead. I don't know if this was truly on purpose, because of the fact that I did all right on Saturday's hills, or if it was just coincidence. Regardless, that seemed to turn into my job, and that definitely added to the difficulty of the ride for me.
We finally got out onto Jollyville, still in single file. Menard took the lead, and I was right behind him. Menard is a pretty strong cyclist, and when you put him out front, he goes. I don't know why, maybe it was because we were so close to the finish, but he took off. I went with him. I kept thinking about how tired I now was (I was sugar-crashing at this point, too), but that I needed to go, because I didn't want to hold up the people behind me. I never turned around to look behind me (kind of hard to do when you're less than a foot from the wheel in front of you), so it wasn't until we moved to make the left turn onto Great Hills that I saw that the rest of the group wasn't behind me, at least not on my wheel. In fact, they were a ways back. So here I was, working my ass off to stick to Menard when I didn't have to. I'd love to say I was pissed about that, but I was actually really proud of myself.
So, in all, we did about 36 miles, but they wound up being 36 pretty high quality miles, which I'm hoping makes up for the fact that we didn't cover the distance we were supposed to. That now makes two good days of riding in a row. I think my luck is about to run out, however, as I'm planning to do my quality run tonight (a track workout for me here in Dallas). My legs are a tiny bit tired, so I I'm not looking forward to this. We'll see...!
This was the monthly Austin Duathletes ride, and it was really fun, it's just that everything that could go wrong did go wrong (short of wrecks and carnage). We started at NXNW (basically 360 and 183) and wove our way over to Parmer. That went fine. But when we got to Parmer, there was a bunch of debris on the shoulder. I ride Parmer relatively regularly, and the shoulder is never clean, but it seemed worse than usual. Anyway, we hadn't been on Parmer but a few minutes before Mark flatted. The group was relatively large, and we all kept going, save for Panther who stayed behind to help Mark. After a bit, though, we all stopped and waited. Panther rejoined the group sans Mark and told the "B" group people to ride on ahead, the "A" group people would stay behind and wait on Mark and then catch up to the B group. Fine, off the B group went. After a couple more minutes, Mark caught up to those of us who had remained behind (Menard, Glenda, Dionn, Panther and me), and we took off to try and catch up to everyone else.
We got in a paceline and were moving at a nice speed (the wind was behind us--yippee!), but maybe a half mile north of 620, I flatted. I've never flatted on a ride before, but apparently I hit a rock just so and killed the front tire. It being that I've never flatted on the road before, I haven't had any experience with changing a tire at anything other than a really leisurely pace, usually with a lot of swearing involved. Dionn and Panther came back to assist. Pause here. Have you ever watched calf-roping? That's what it was like watching Panther change this tire. He could have done it faster had I not tapped my one and only CO2 cartridge early and let all the air out (he had to dig around for another).
We resumed riding, but made it maybe another mile, if that, before it became clear that Glenda was having derailleur problems. She couldn't pedal in anything but her lowest gears. We stopped again and Panther, Mark and Glenda tried to fix it, but nothing doing. Glenda wound up having to turn around early and head back.
So now the A group was down to five people, and we were starting to see a few members of the B group on the other side of Parmer, headed back in. Still, we maintained a reasonable pace the rest of the way out Parmer, all the way to the county road it eventually turns into. The county road is where the road turns really crappy, because they're in the process of taking Parmer all the way out to Hwy 29. We finally met up with the bulk of the B group, who were on their way back. They informed us that the road was closed at the bridge over the San Gabriel. In other words, those of us wanting to get a 50-miler in were going to wind up riding closer to 35, instead. Oh well, we kept going. By the time we got to the river, we were all still in a good mood, but a "fuck it" sort of mindset had set in. There seemed to be no point in going particularly fast (of course, this would change later), so all three guys took advantage of the opportunity for a biology break while Dionn and I waited around and commented on the fact that we like being female, but the standing-up-to-pee thing is a pretty nifty trick. Anyway, we were now poised to turn around at the bottom of this fairly steep hill, and we were facing a nice south headwind to boot. We had barely started moving before Dionn lost her chain. Fortunately, this was the last problem of the day, and, thankfully, a minor one at that.
Once we reached the top of the hill and got back onto Parmer proper, we formed another paceline--the headwind wasn't so much stiff as it was constant. I do better in a paceline when I'm a little tired--I'm not as jumpy and I can kind of get in this zone. We did the paceline all the way to 1431 before we ran across a group of riders, all in blue jerseys, something about the Brain & Spine Center or something. Anyway, we tucked in behind them, still in our paceline. They were going a little slow, and eventually Panther told us to pick it up and go around. Here's the only problem with that: once you go around, you have to stay out in front, otherwise, if they pass you, you look like a bunch of "bitches" to use Panther's term. So our paceline picked up a little head of steam. Not only that, but for whatever reason, on each of the hill climbs, I got to lead. I don't know if this was truly on purpose, because of the fact that I did all right on Saturday's hills, or if it was just coincidence. Regardless, that seemed to turn into my job, and that definitely added to the difficulty of the ride for me.
We finally got out onto Jollyville, still in single file. Menard took the lead, and I was right behind him. Menard is a pretty strong cyclist, and when you put him out front, he goes. I don't know why, maybe it was because we were so close to the finish, but he took off. I went with him. I kept thinking about how tired I now was (I was sugar-crashing at this point, too), but that I needed to go, because I didn't want to hold up the people behind me. I never turned around to look behind me (kind of hard to do when you're less than a foot from the wheel in front of you), so it wasn't until we moved to make the left turn onto Great Hills that I saw that the rest of the group wasn't behind me, at least not on my wheel. In fact, they were a ways back. So here I was, working my ass off to stick to Menard when I didn't have to. I'd love to say I was pissed about that, but I was actually really proud of myself.
So, in all, we did about 36 miles, but they wound up being 36 pretty high quality miles, which I'm hoping makes up for the fact that we didn't cover the distance we were supposed to. That now makes two good days of riding in a row. I think my luck is about to run out, however, as I'm planning to do my quality run tonight (a track workout for me here in Dallas). My legs are a tiny bit tired, so I I'm not looking forward to this. We'll see...!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Hell Yeah!
I love hills. I love, love, LOVE hills! On a bike, though, not running.
Today we did a 27-mile ride that took us out Southwest Parkway to 71 to Bee Caves to Barton Creek/Hills Drive (whatever) to Lost Creek Blvd. to 360 and down Mopac back to SW Parkway. This is officially my new favorite ride. At least for today.
Panther told us to ride at a moderate pace. I usually have a hard time telling what moderate is, as I typically go as hard as whoever I'm riding with is going--and since that's usually Erin, I'm usually pushing at least a tiny bit. Today, though, we had a sizeable group, and we all went out together at a very comfortable pace. I think we were all a little concerned about saving our legs for Lost Creek (a road I'd never ridden on until today, but had heard stories about).
The problem was, I felt pretty good plus I was testing out my third bike (a Felt B2). I started getting a little antsy riding behind everyone, so I started moving up to the front. Dionn was doing the same thing, and before too long, she and I were right behind Justin, who was leading the group. Panther rode up alongside me and told me to ride my own ride today, meaning I shouldn't wait on anyone, just go. Okay, no problem.
Though I've driven Bee Caves many times, I've never ridden it. There are some hills on that road! They're not huge or anything, but they're annoying, especially when you know the part of the ride that's really going to kick your ass is still several miles out. I was starting to get concerned, too, because I felt like I was pushing harder than I should have been, but I'd be damned if I was going to lose Justin and Dionn, so I kept at it.
We made the turn onto Barton Creek/Hills/Whatever and I started getting a little nervous. We got a nice rest cruising to the first hill, and then the work started. At one point Justin told me I'd gotten a lot stronger since the Armadillo Classic, and that made me feel really good. But it was still early in the ride, so I wasn't quite ready to endorse the comment. I can say right now that I think he's right, but it didn't hurt that I was riding a great bike today.
Also, I should give a shout out to Dionn, who yelled at Justin and me when she saw we'd missed the Lost Creek turn--that would have sucked getting lost.
Anyway, we got to Lost Creek and that's when I got really, really nervous. By now, my legs were no longer fresh. I'll skip the details, except to say the following:
1) I don't know how many hills there are on Lost Creek, but there are a lot and they are steep.
2) When we were at the top of one hill, I looked across the little valley in front of us and saw another hill going straight up. I thought to myself, please, God, don't make us go up that hill. And then we did. God hates me, but at least I made it up that one...
3) ...and the one after it...
4) ...and the one after that, and so on.
By the time we got to 360, I was out in front of everyone. That's never happened to me before on a group ride. In fact, I didn't have a trip ticket with me, nor did I know where we were supposed to go--I'm never in the lead, so I don't usually have to worry about that kind of information. So I slowed down a little at 360 and waited on Justin and Tim (where the hell did he come from??) to tell me which way I was supposed to go. Dionn caught up to us, too, and the four of us rode the rest of the way in together. I'm happy to say, we were moving right along, and it didn't feel all that difficult to me.
Next up was our run, three miles through Travis Country, with only one small but kind of steep hill at the start of mile three. I took my time about starting the run, so Tim and Justin were out in front of me quite a ways. I felt pretty good, in fact, I couldn't believe how good my legs felt, considering the ride we'd just done. The only problem was my heart rate, which was probably too high, but was definitely sustainable.
I don't know where Panther came from, but he caught me in a hurry. Here is what he said to me as he passed me: "Damn, you fuckers are hard to run down." Then he drew a parallel to when you see a roach running around and you go to get the bug spray, but when you come back, the roach has run off and you can't find it. And then he was gone. That's nice, make me start laughing, screw up my breathing and then haul ass. ;)
I managed to catch up to Tim and Justin, and I only struggled a little up the hill at mile three. I don't know what my time was on the run, but I felt like I ran pretty strong (even so, Glenda, as it turns out, was right behind me--I know it's not a competition out there, but how the hell does she DO that?).
We tacked on a little trail run to the tail end of the workout, nothing major, maybe a mile or mile and half, but it was really pleasant.
So, in all, it was an awesome day. I worked pretty hard, but it didn't feel like work and I had a blast. I bet I'll pay for it on tomorrow's bike ride, but who cares?
Today we did a 27-mile ride that took us out Southwest Parkway to 71 to Bee Caves to Barton Creek/Hills Drive (whatever) to Lost Creek Blvd. to 360 and down Mopac back to SW Parkway. This is officially my new favorite ride. At least for today.
Panther told us to ride at a moderate pace. I usually have a hard time telling what moderate is, as I typically go as hard as whoever I'm riding with is going--and since that's usually Erin, I'm usually pushing at least a tiny bit. Today, though, we had a sizeable group, and we all went out together at a very comfortable pace. I think we were all a little concerned about saving our legs for Lost Creek (a road I'd never ridden on until today, but had heard stories about).
The problem was, I felt pretty good plus I was testing out my third bike (a Felt B2). I started getting a little antsy riding behind everyone, so I started moving up to the front. Dionn was doing the same thing, and before too long, she and I were right behind Justin, who was leading the group. Panther rode up alongside me and told me to ride my own ride today, meaning I shouldn't wait on anyone, just go. Okay, no problem.
Though I've driven Bee Caves many times, I've never ridden it. There are some hills on that road! They're not huge or anything, but they're annoying, especially when you know the part of the ride that's really going to kick your ass is still several miles out. I was starting to get concerned, too, because I felt like I was pushing harder than I should have been, but I'd be damned if I was going to lose Justin and Dionn, so I kept at it.
We made the turn onto Barton Creek/Hills/Whatever and I started getting a little nervous. We got a nice rest cruising to the first hill, and then the work started. At one point Justin told me I'd gotten a lot stronger since the Armadillo Classic, and that made me feel really good. But it was still early in the ride, so I wasn't quite ready to endorse the comment. I can say right now that I think he's right, but it didn't hurt that I was riding a great bike today.
Also, I should give a shout out to Dionn, who yelled at Justin and me when she saw we'd missed the Lost Creek turn--that would have sucked getting lost.
Anyway, we got to Lost Creek and that's when I got really, really nervous. By now, my legs were no longer fresh. I'll skip the details, except to say the following:
1) I don't know how many hills there are on Lost Creek, but there are a lot and they are steep.
2) When we were at the top of one hill, I looked across the little valley in front of us and saw another hill going straight up. I thought to myself, please, God, don't make us go up that hill. And then we did. God hates me, but at least I made it up that one...
3) ...and the one after it...
4) ...and the one after that, and so on.
By the time we got to 360, I was out in front of everyone. That's never happened to me before on a group ride. In fact, I didn't have a trip ticket with me, nor did I know where we were supposed to go--I'm never in the lead, so I don't usually have to worry about that kind of information. So I slowed down a little at 360 and waited on Justin and Tim (where the hell did he come from??) to tell me which way I was supposed to go. Dionn caught up to us, too, and the four of us rode the rest of the way in together. I'm happy to say, we were moving right along, and it didn't feel all that difficult to me.
Next up was our run, three miles through Travis Country, with only one small but kind of steep hill at the start of mile three. I took my time about starting the run, so Tim and Justin were out in front of me quite a ways. I felt pretty good, in fact, I couldn't believe how good my legs felt, considering the ride we'd just done. The only problem was my heart rate, which was probably too high, but was definitely sustainable.
I don't know where Panther came from, but he caught me in a hurry. Here is what he said to me as he passed me: "Damn, you fuckers are hard to run down." Then he drew a parallel to when you see a roach running around and you go to get the bug spray, but when you come back, the roach has run off and you can't find it. And then he was gone. That's nice, make me start laughing, screw up my breathing and then haul ass. ;)
I managed to catch up to Tim and Justin, and I only struggled a little up the hill at mile three. I don't know what my time was on the run, but I felt like I ran pretty strong (even so, Glenda, as it turns out, was right behind me--I know it's not a competition out there, but how the hell does she DO that?).
We tacked on a little trail run to the tail end of the workout, nothing major, maybe a mile or mile and half, but it was really pleasant.
So, in all, it was an awesome day. I worked pretty hard, but it didn't feel like work and I had a blast. I bet I'll pay for it on tomorrow's bike ride, but who cares?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
A Good Day
I kind of feel like crap. This is not a complaint, but rather a statement of fact. I thought my head cold was going away, but I woke up this morning feeling worse than I have since this thing started on Friday. It feels like all this congestion is making its way toward my chest. I also have that sinus pressure thing working up around my eyes and I'm sneezy and my ears are plugged up and I can't breathe through my nose and I have an old man cough when I laugh. I thought I was running a fever earlier today. I can usually tell when I am, because the tips of my ears feel really warm and my eyes feel glassy. False alarm--the thermometer read 97.7, which is normal for me.
I would really like to go ride tonight, or at least run, but running last night seemed to make my cold worse and not better, so with some hesitation, I'm taking a rest day. I refuse to miss Mesa hill repeats tomorrow night, though. That's my favorite workout. And don't worry, I promise not to breathe on any of you, kiss any of you, drink from your water bottles, steal a bite of your post-ride pizza or otherwise give my cold to you. :)
I should also note another fun fact about my day. I kind of knew my normal work hours would be full of personal calls, emails and text messages today, which, for the record, I don't mind a bit, since my job often finds me contemplating suicide (kidding...sort of). So I got up and started working at 5 a.m. I am wildly productive first thing in the morning, the earlier the better. And, as anticipated, starting around 10 a.m., my productivity cratered as various friends checked in. May I just say, it was awesome. Work is important, and there are, in all sincerity, aspects to my job that I really love. But talking and emailing and texting with friends is so much more rewarding. I laughed an awful lot today, and head cold and all, that's the sort of thing that makes for a good day.
I would really like to go ride tonight, or at least run, but running last night seemed to make my cold worse and not better, so with some hesitation, I'm taking a rest day. I refuse to miss Mesa hill repeats tomorrow night, though. That's my favorite workout. And don't worry, I promise not to breathe on any of you, kiss any of you, drink from your water bottles, steal a bite of your post-ride pizza or otherwise give my cold to you. :)
I should also note another fun fact about my day. I kind of knew my normal work hours would be full of personal calls, emails and text messages today, which, for the record, I don't mind a bit, since my job often finds me contemplating suicide (kidding...sort of). So I got up and started working at 5 a.m. I am wildly productive first thing in the morning, the earlier the better. And, as anticipated, starting around 10 a.m., my productivity cratered as various friends checked in. May I just say, it was awesome. Work is important, and there are, in all sincerity, aspects to my job that I really love. But talking and emailing and texting with friends is so much more rewarding. I laughed an awful lot today, and head cold and all, that's the sort of thing that makes for a good day.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Hotter Than Hell
Summer has a sound, especially as evening sets in. It's all those cicadas, I think. And maybe frogs, if it's been raining. I just know it sounds hot. It also has a feel, more than just the heat. The feel, very specifically (is that redundant?) is when you walk out of an air conditioned building at nine o'clock at night and the sensation is a bit like being wrapped in one of those warm, damp hand towels they give you when you're sitting in first class on an airplane (weird, yes, but go with it). And none of this is bad. In fact, I kind of like how noisy and sultry summer is.
But that doesn't mean I want to run in this shit.
So, tonight we did 800, 1000, 1600, 1000, 800 at 5k pace for us duathletes (triathletes only had to do 10k pace--not that there's anything wrong with that). The first 800 was followed by a 200m recovery jog, everything else was followed by 400m recovery--it was supposed to be a jog, but it wound up being whatever it took to get your heart rate down from 1200 bpm to something that would allow you to do another repeat. To further set the stage, the temperature, according to the precise, German-engineered thermometer in my beloved VW, read 99 degrees when I pulled into the RunTex parking lot. At least it wasn't 100.
Lest you think I'm griping, I'm really not. This workout wasn't all that hard on paper. But the heat--holy God! I melt in the heat. Anyway, here's how things went:
1st 800 - No idea. I think I did 3:17. Let's pretend I did. Also, if I did, that was too fast.
200m recovery jog - Lane 8 is the best place to run. Just sayin'.
1st 1000 - Let's call it 4:22. Sounds about right.
400m recovery jog - Lane 8, I'm telling you.
1600 - Going for 7 minute pace. Failed, did 7:08 instead. Also, I don't remember eating that much fiber today...
400m recovery jog - Right, so walking the first 50m counts as jogging. It does. Don't argue with me.
2nd 1000 - 4:37. This would have been good were it not that I was trying to hit 4:22.
400m recovery jog - You want me to jog? F--- off. Actually, I walked the first 100 and jogged the rest. In lane 8. Shut up, it counts.
2nd 800 - 3:37. Considering the volume of sweat I was putting out and also snot (remember, I had a head cold over the weekend, so...), I consider 7 seconds over goal to be as good as hitting the mark.
I should note, the warm-up and cool down were very pleasant, except I got stabbed in the shin with a grass burr on the cool down. Now I know how my puppies feel when they get burrs in the pads of their paws--poor babies. Also, no happy hour at Aussie's. It was a small group, and I think everyone was tired and hot and...well, it just wasn't a happy hour night. Maybe next week.
But that doesn't mean I want to run in this shit.
So, tonight we did 800, 1000, 1600, 1000, 800 at 5k pace for us duathletes (triathletes only had to do 10k pace--not that there's anything wrong with that). The first 800 was followed by a 200m recovery jog, everything else was followed by 400m recovery--it was supposed to be a jog, but it wound up being whatever it took to get your heart rate down from 1200 bpm to something that would allow you to do another repeat. To further set the stage, the temperature, according to the precise, German-engineered thermometer in my beloved VW, read 99 degrees when I pulled into the RunTex parking lot. At least it wasn't 100.
Lest you think I'm griping, I'm really not. This workout wasn't all that hard on paper. But the heat--holy God! I melt in the heat. Anyway, here's how things went:
1st 800 - No idea. I think I did 3:17. Let's pretend I did. Also, if I did, that was too fast.
200m recovery jog - Lane 8 is the best place to run. Just sayin'.
1st 1000 - Let's call it 4:22. Sounds about right.
400m recovery jog - Lane 8, I'm telling you.
1600 - Going for 7 minute pace. Failed, did 7:08 instead. Also, I don't remember eating that much fiber today...
400m recovery jog - Right, so walking the first 50m counts as jogging. It does. Don't argue with me.
2nd 1000 - 4:37. This would have been good were it not that I was trying to hit 4:22.
400m recovery jog - You want me to jog? F--- off. Actually, I walked the first 100 and jogged the rest. In lane 8. Shut up, it counts.
2nd 800 - 3:37. Considering the volume of sweat I was putting out and also snot (remember, I had a head cold over the weekend, so...), I consider 7 seconds over goal to be as good as hitting the mark.
I should note, the warm-up and cool down were very pleasant, except I got stabbed in the shin with a grass burr on the cool down. Now I know how my puppies feel when they get burrs in the pads of their paws--poor babies. Also, no happy hour at Aussie's. It was a small group, and I think everyone was tired and hot and...well, it just wasn't a happy hour night. Maybe next week.
Monday, June 18, 2007
A Slow Comeback
So much for jumping back on the workout bandwagon. Saturday was a total loss. The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. and I just could not drag myself out of bed. The trip to Phoenix took a toll (a two-hour time difference, which is tougher to overcome than you might think, plus not sleeping much the last week), a sore throat, a mild headache and pouring rain made staying bed entirely too appealing. I went back to sleep and didn't wake up again until 9:30. I had intended to go bike or run or swim or something, but I never quite got up the energy. In fact, I took a three hour nap Saturday afternoon. Guess I was tired.
Sunday was a little better. Instead of the ACA ride down in Wimberley, Panther put togther a last minute 25-miler leaving from the Mangia on Mesa, and we didn't even start until 9 a.m. (well, later than that, because I ran late). More sleep--hooray! It was a tiny group, Katarina, Shorey, Panther, Dave and I, but it was such a pleasant ride. When we finished up riding we did a run. I think Shorey, Katarina and Dave all went three miles, but Panther was doing five, and since 1) I don't know how to say no to a challenge, and 2) I had never run up Ladera Norte, I 3) decided to do five with Panther. Ouch. I didn't make it up Ladera Norte, not even close. I think I walked at least half. I'm blaming it on the blazing sun, humidity, head cold, possible dehydration and the bike ride we'd just done. Truth be told, though, I just didn't have it in me. I never quite got my lungs back after that, so the run back to Mangia was just icky, but at least I had company (thanks for sticking with me, Panther).
Dave and Katarina had to leave, but Shorey, Panther and I had pizza and a couple of beers. Then I got to drive down to J&A's and pick up my third test ride--another Felt, but a different model and a smaller frame. I'm excited to give it a whirl later today. I should also point out that while at J&A's, I ran into Desiree. I say "ran into" because it wasn't like I just saw her, I actually spoke with her. (Wiley, take note: you can talk to Desiree if you see her, she's really very approachable and nice).
Oddly enough, I was in sort of a temperamental--no, let's just call it what it was, bitchy--mood by the time I got home (it's a long drive to Waco, folks). I was really, really restless, so I did what everyone who's restless does, I drank some beer. Not enough, however, because I was wound up until I went to bed. I think it's just the coming down from such a bizarre week, what with the shoulder and the travel and the cold and the messed up schedule. Anyway, hoping this week will be better, starting with my little test ride in about three hours--yippee!
Sunday was a little better. Instead of the ACA ride down in Wimberley, Panther put togther a last minute 25-miler leaving from the Mangia on Mesa, and we didn't even start until 9 a.m. (well, later than that, because I ran late). More sleep--hooray! It was a tiny group, Katarina, Shorey, Panther, Dave and I, but it was such a pleasant ride. When we finished up riding we did a run. I think Shorey, Katarina and Dave all went three miles, but Panther was doing five, and since 1) I don't know how to say no to a challenge, and 2) I had never run up Ladera Norte, I 3) decided to do five with Panther. Ouch. I didn't make it up Ladera Norte, not even close. I think I walked at least half. I'm blaming it on the blazing sun, humidity, head cold, possible dehydration and the bike ride we'd just done. Truth be told, though, I just didn't have it in me. I never quite got my lungs back after that, so the run back to Mangia was just icky, but at least I had company (thanks for sticking with me, Panther).
Dave and Katarina had to leave, but Shorey, Panther and I had pizza and a couple of beers. Then I got to drive down to J&A's and pick up my third test ride--another Felt, but a different model and a smaller frame. I'm excited to give it a whirl later today. I should also point out that while at J&A's, I ran into Desiree. I say "ran into" because it wasn't like I just saw her, I actually spoke with her. (Wiley, take note: you can talk to Desiree if you see her, she's really very approachable and nice).
Oddly enough, I was in sort of a temperamental--no, let's just call it what it was, bitchy--mood by the time I got home (it's a long drive to Waco, folks). I was really, really restless, so I did what everyone who's restless does, I drank some beer. Not enough, however, because I was wound up until I went to bed. I think it's just the coming down from such a bizarre week, what with the shoulder and the travel and the cold and the messed up schedule. Anyway, hoping this week will be better, starting with my little test ride in about three hours--yippee!
Friday, June 15, 2007
Grrrr!
This is all f----d up.
Ask me about my workouts these last two weeks. Actually, don't. I am hopeless without structure and routine. And Phoenix is hot and the dreadmill is no fun and nobody at work seems to want to synch their schedule with mine. All my friends have FOMO and act on it. Me? I just wander around frustrated. Plus I've had the random shoulder "injury" from hell this whole week (today is my first Advil-free day all week--I was at three at a time every four hours, even in the middle of the night, for a couple of days there). I finally went and got a massage late yesterday--I couldn't stand it anymore. I think that did the trick, even though it still hurts. Also, I have a cold.
But, enough whining. Tomorrow is a new day, a chance to re-join the ranks of my overachieving, crazy friends. I can't wait.
Ask me about my workouts these last two weeks. Actually, don't. I am hopeless without structure and routine. And Phoenix is hot and the dreadmill is no fun and nobody at work seems to want to synch their schedule with mine. All my friends have FOMO and act on it. Me? I just wander around frustrated. Plus I've had the random shoulder "injury" from hell this whole week (today is my first Advil-free day all week--I was at three at a time every four hours, even in the middle of the night, for a couple of days there). I finally went and got a massage late yesterday--I couldn't stand it anymore. I think that did the trick, even though it still hurts. Also, I have a cold.
But, enough whining. Tomorrow is a new day, a chance to re-join the ranks of my overachieving, crazy friends. I can't wait.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I'm In Phoenix
I'm in Phoenix. It's very hot. Very. Very. But it's a dry heat. Why do people say that, by the way, that it's a dry heat? Heat is heat. An oven is also dry heat, it does not mean I want to stick my head in there (although there are days...).
I went to graduate school in Phoenix, and I like it here a lot. Sure, it's hotter than hell. The pollution is thick. It's overrun with traffic and urban sprawl. Everything is in a strip mall, even the nicest restaurants. But you cannot beat the sunsets here. There's hiking right in town. If you like skiing, Flagstaff is two hours away and it's a whole other world. There isn't a sport, in fact, that you can't partake of that's any farther than a four hour drive away. The Grand Canyon is also four hours by car, as is L.A. Sedona and Prescott are beautiful and filled with freaks, which makes me happy, and they're both just up the road. Mexico is just down the road. I think I could live here if I ever got kicked out of Austin for some reason. Although my first choice would be Boulder.
Anyway, I'm in Phoenix working on a project. I'll spare you the details--boring stuff. What's bothering me, however (and quite literally) is my neck and right shoulder. Very bad pain, not constant, but almost. I've been grimacing quite a lot today, and I can't concentrate. I've been taking Advil, but it helps only minimally. I have no idea what the hell I did to myself, but I'm really, really uncomfortable right now.
Also, my hotel room, from which I've been working much of the afternoon (boring work dinner tonight, office tomorrow), was without water pretty much the whole day, up until an hour ago. This has been an issue for a variety of reasons, as you might imagine, especially for someone like me, who lives on a steady (diuretic) diet of coffee and diet Coke. Oh, and sometimes water. But at least it's back on now.
I'm going to pop some more Advil and finish up some stuff, and then I'm going to check out the dreadmill in the "state of the art" fitness facility, which is located somewhere on the property, but which I have yet to actually identify (this place is huge). In the meantime, if anyone has any good ideas on how to fix this neck/shoulder pain thing, short of killing myself, I'd love to hear them.
Oh, P.S., I won't be there for the bike workout tomorrow night, so y'all kids have fun without me! :)
I went to graduate school in Phoenix, and I like it here a lot. Sure, it's hotter than hell. The pollution is thick. It's overrun with traffic and urban sprawl. Everything is in a strip mall, even the nicest restaurants. But you cannot beat the sunsets here. There's hiking right in town. If you like skiing, Flagstaff is two hours away and it's a whole other world. There isn't a sport, in fact, that you can't partake of that's any farther than a four hour drive away. The Grand Canyon is also four hours by car, as is L.A. Sedona and Prescott are beautiful and filled with freaks, which makes me happy, and they're both just up the road. Mexico is just down the road. I think I could live here if I ever got kicked out of Austin for some reason. Although my first choice would be Boulder.
Anyway, I'm in Phoenix working on a project. I'll spare you the details--boring stuff. What's bothering me, however (and quite literally) is my neck and right shoulder. Very bad pain, not constant, but almost. I've been grimacing quite a lot today, and I can't concentrate. I've been taking Advil, but it helps only minimally. I have no idea what the hell I did to myself, but I'm really, really uncomfortable right now.
Also, my hotel room, from which I've been working much of the afternoon (boring work dinner tonight, office tomorrow), was without water pretty much the whole day, up until an hour ago. This has been an issue for a variety of reasons, as you might imagine, especially for someone like me, who lives on a steady (diuretic) diet of coffee and diet Coke. Oh, and sometimes water. But at least it's back on now.
I'm going to pop some more Advil and finish up some stuff, and then I'm going to check out the dreadmill in the "state of the art" fitness facility, which is located somewhere on the property, but which I have yet to actually identify (this place is huge). In the meantime, if anyone has any good ideas on how to fix this neck/shoulder pain thing, short of killing myself, I'd love to hear them.
Oh, P.S., I won't be there for the bike workout tomorrow night, so y'all kids have fun without me! :)
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Metroplex Sprint Triathlon Race Report (800ms, 16.9mb, 5kr)
Let’s start this report with the fact that I haven’t been swimming. I can count on one had how many times I’ve been in the pool in the last year. That’s right, the last twelve months. I have yet to be able to put 800 meters together without stopping, and I certainly haven’t swam anything over 800 meters. So I’ve been stressing out this entire week over this race. I decided I HAD to complete a full 800 without stopping if I was going to race, and of course—because I’m such a good procrastinator—I waited until Saturday morning (yes, the day before the race) to see if I could do it. I couldn’t. I came home from Lifetime and announced to Jeff that I would still go to Dallas and bring my stuff, but that I wasn’t going to race. He told me I would be fine. When I met up with Glenda, Maggie and Erin at Glenda’s house, I announced to Erin that I didn’t think I’d be racing. She told me I’d be fine. As did Glenda and Maggie.
Fine.
So off we went to Dallas (actually Grand Prairie), Erin and I in one car, Glenda and Maggie in the other. We checked into the hotel, picked up our race packets and drove the bike and the run courses. We hung around our hotel room (at the Quality Inn) for a little while. The room smelled like cheesy air freshener, kind of a chocolate chip cookie smell, only gross. Then it was off to dinner, which included chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is Erin’s pre-race tradition, and it may well become mine, Maggie’s and Glenda’s, too—it seemed to work, but we’ll get to that in a minute. (P.S. – My pre-race tradition is to shave my legs. Probably more information than you needed, and nowhere near as satisfying as chocolate cake.)
We went to bed really early so we could get up at 4:45 a.m. I don’t care what time you go to bed, 4:45 is still damned early. But we made it out of the hotel on schedule, got bodymarked, racked our bikes and set up our transition areas. I have to hand it to Glenda, Erin and Maggie. I was freaked out, nervous, frankly, scared to death of the swim, and I just would not stop talking about it. They were all incredibly supportive, though. Still, I really thought I was going to start crying before the start.
I was in the third swim wave. The horn went off and I didn’t freak out at all about sticking my face in the water—which has caused me to panic in the past—and I started off doing freestyle and feeling okay, even as I broke rhythm to sight the buoys. But that only lasted about 100 meters before I felt like there wasn’t enough air in the world to allow me to keep going. I thought about grabbing a kayak and telling them to paddle me back to shore. But DNF’ing because you’re a puss is so very lame, so I switched to breast stroke. For. The. Whole. Swim. It was unpleasant, and we’ll leave it at that. My swim time was 19:31; I was 16th out of the water in a field of 18 in my age group.
I got out of the water pissed off that I haven’t been swimming, but absolutely thrilled that my race could now start. I knew I was so far behind everyone else in my age group, I figured I had to push pretty hard to make up any ground at all. Unfortunately, once on the bike, the only people I seemed to be passing were 26 year olds. Seriously. I must have passed fifteen of them if I passed one. I think I only took five women in the 35-39 group before it was over (of course, it turns out two of them were competing as Athenas--*$%@!). I completed the bike averaging 21.5 mph, which placed me 5th in my age group. Considering I spent very little time in my biggest gears, I was okay with that, but it shows me I need to spend a lot more time riding.
Next up was the run. This is where I’m usually strongest. In fact, my legs felt surprisingly good, all things considered. I think it helped that the last time I was at J&A’s, Jack told me to remember on the bike leg to lead my downward peddle stroke with my heel—something I hadn’t been doing. He said it would save my legs for the run, and it certainly seemed to help (thanks, Jack!). Unfortunately, I still had issues, as I had multiple cramps in my diaphragm and stomach, which made it incredibly hard to breathe the first half of the run. Eventually they worked themselves out, and I felt pretty good the rest of the way, I even kicked it in in the last half mile (though it probably didn’t look like much of kick to anyone but me). I finished the run averaging 7:53 pace, which was 4th fastest in my age group. If I’m disappointed about anything, it’s the run. The swim I knew would be a disaster, the bike was a pleasant surprise, but the run…I should be able to go faster than that. Still, it’s progress. I need to get back into doing the Tuesday night quality workouts on a consistent basis—I’ve been slacking—and I need to keep my mileage a little more consistent.
So, overall, I finished 10th in my age group, total time of 1:34-something. Seeing as how there were only 18 of us, that kind of sucks. The good news is, I think I still have room to improve on the bike and run, and I know there is nowhere to go but up with the swim.
You’ll probably read all their blogs, but I should point out—because I’m really proud of and excited for them—that Glenda finished second in her age group, in spite of a very, very nasty spill that left her with some impressive road rash. Maggie had a fast swim and looked so strong and smiley coming across the finish line. Erin had the fastest bike in her age group and finished fourth—woohoo!
It was a really fun day, I’m glad I raced, and I’m glad I got to spend some quality time with a great group of girls!
Fine.
So off we went to Dallas (actually Grand Prairie), Erin and I in one car, Glenda and Maggie in the other. We checked into the hotel, picked up our race packets and drove the bike and the run courses. We hung around our hotel room (at the Quality Inn) for a little while. The room smelled like cheesy air freshener, kind of a chocolate chip cookie smell, only gross. Then it was off to dinner, which included chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is Erin’s pre-race tradition, and it may well become mine, Maggie’s and Glenda’s, too—it seemed to work, but we’ll get to that in a minute. (P.S. – My pre-race tradition is to shave my legs. Probably more information than you needed, and nowhere near as satisfying as chocolate cake.)
We went to bed really early so we could get up at 4:45 a.m. I don’t care what time you go to bed, 4:45 is still damned early. But we made it out of the hotel on schedule, got bodymarked, racked our bikes and set up our transition areas. I have to hand it to Glenda, Erin and Maggie. I was freaked out, nervous, frankly, scared to death of the swim, and I just would not stop talking about it. They were all incredibly supportive, though. Still, I really thought I was going to start crying before the start.
I was in the third swim wave. The horn went off and I didn’t freak out at all about sticking my face in the water—which has caused me to panic in the past—and I started off doing freestyle and feeling okay, even as I broke rhythm to sight the buoys. But that only lasted about 100 meters before I felt like there wasn’t enough air in the world to allow me to keep going. I thought about grabbing a kayak and telling them to paddle me back to shore. But DNF’ing because you’re a puss is so very lame, so I switched to breast stroke. For. The. Whole. Swim. It was unpleasant, and we’ll leave it at that. My swim time was 19:31; I was 16th out of the water in a field of 18 in my age group.
I got out of the water pissed off that I haven’t been swimming, but absolutely thrilled that my race could now start. I knew I was so far behind everyone else in my age group, I figured I had to push pretty hard to make up any ground at all. Unfortunately, once on the bike, the only people I seemed to be passing were 26 year olds. Seriously. I must have passed fifteen of them if I passed one. I think I only took five women in the 35-39 group before it was over (of course, it turns out two of them were competing as Athenas--*$%@!). I completed the bike averaging 21.5 mph, which placed me 5th in my age group. Considering I spent very little time in my biggest gears, I was okay with that, but it shows me I need to spend a lot more time riding.
Next up was the run. This is where I’m usually strongest. In fact, my legs felt surprisingly good, all things considered. I think it helped that the last time I was at J&A’s, Jack told me to remember on the bike leg to lead my downward peddle stroke with my heel—something I hadn’t been doing. He said it would save my legs for the run, and it certainly seemed to help (thanks, Jack!). Unfortunately, I still had issues, as I had multiple cramps in my diaphragm and stomach, which made it incredibly hard to breathe the first half of the run. Eventually they worked themselves out, and I felt pretty good the rest of the way, I even kicked it in in the last half mile (though it probably didn’t look like much of kick to anyone but me). I finished the run averaging 7:53 pace, which was 4th fastest in my age group. If I’m disappointed about anything, it’s the run. The swim I knew would be a disaster, the bike was a pleasant surprise, but the run…I should be able to go faster than that. Still, it’s progress. I need to get back into doing the Tuesday night quality workouts on a consistent basis—I’ve been slacking—and I need to keep my mileage a little more consistent.
So, overall, I finished 10th in my age group, total time of 1:34-something. Seeing as how there were only 18 of us, that kind of sucks. The good news is, I think I still have room to improve on the bike and run, and I know there is nowhere to go but up with the swim.
You’ll probably read all their blogs, but I should point out—because I’m really proud of and excited for them—that Glenda finished second in her age group, in spite of a very, very nasty spill that left her with some impressive road rash. Maggie had a fast swim and looked so strong and smiley coming across the finish line. Erin had the fastest bike in her age group and finished fourth—woohoo!
It was a really fun day, I’m glad I raced, and I’m glad I got to spend some quality time with a great group of girls!
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Bike Test Ride Report
I am sitting here eating Pop-Tarts because I'm feeling depressed and self-destructive (see post below). Pop-Tarts are some of the best junk breakfast food on the market. I never toast mine, but I am in love with the smell of a Pop-Tart toasting. Irresistible, I'm telling you.
So here I sit getting my strawberry frosted, scrumptious morning junk food fix--along with both a Diet Coke and a giant cup of coffee--trying to decide if I want to buy the Kestrel I test rode Sunday or the Felt I test rode Tuesday. In the Kestrel's favor:
So here I sit getting my strawberry frosted, scrumptious morning junk food fix--along with both a Diet Coke and a giant cup of coffee--trying to decide if I want to buy the Kestrel I test rode Sunday or the Felt I test rode Tuesday. In the Kestrel's favor:
- Cool-looking
- Full-carbon frame, which means it's light, which means it's really fun to climb hills on
- Smooth ride (this point cannot be overemphasized)
- Hell of a deal for the money
And working against the Kestrel:
- Not as responsive as my Bianchi, because the frame isn't metal
- Needs some components upgraded
In the Felt's favor:
- Cool-looking--not crazy about the color (matte black), but the shape is pretty slick
- Responsive a la my Bianchi, because the frame is aluminum (the forks and seat post are carbon)
- Hell of a deal for the money
- Needs minimal upgrades to components
Working against the Felt:
- Matte black--hmm, I'm more of a shiny, sparkly kind of a girl
- Not as smooth a ride as the Kestrel--not even close
- Not as much fun to climb hills on as the Kestrel, because it's a little heavier
Of course, some characteristics are more important than others, which is why I'm leaning toward the Felt. It rides a lot like my Bianchi: very responsive, except noticeably lighter and smoother. Also, I think I'm obsessing over the weight of the bike more than I should. I need to see the weight difference between the Felt and the Kestrel just to convince myself that it's not going to make a lick of difference--it's not like I'm a threat to be the next Lance Armstrong. Also, I've had bike envy over Kestrels for years now, so the 12 year old in me really wants the Kestrel, but...
I think I'm going with the Felt.
It's Not Good, Not Good At All
I have got to get off the negative page. I am tired of bitching and moaning, it just begets more bitching and moaning. I've read where you attract into your life those things that are consistent with the signals you're putting out. Wow, I am giant ball of negativity here lately! This has got to stop!
Let me explain what's happening, in so far as it's possible to do while still protecting the innocent and not otherwise opening up a whole can of worms (can of worms...can you buy a can of worms? if so, why would you want to? is this an old fishing expression or something? maybe Lulu's husband knows...). I have a friend who goes back and forth between thinking I'm great and hating me. Last Friday, this friend hated me. On Monday, this friend thought I was okay again. There's history and at least a partial explanation to all of this, but, like I said, I'm trying to protect the innocent here. Anyway, I was talking to my friend yesterday and I asked an admittedly insensitive and boneheaded question. Off the charts boneheaded. I do these sorts of things sometimes (you all may have noticed), because I'm a big, fat social retard. I'm trying to overcome it, but it's a struggle. Understandably, my friend lost it, could not have been more pissed off at me, hung up on me three separate times as I fumbled my way through apologies and lame explanations as to why I posed the question I did (I asked the question because I was trying to be helpful and caring--but it wasn't received that way...ugh). I got the nastiest three text messages I have ever received in my life from this person, and an incredibly cruel email. My friend now thinks I'm evil. Truly nefarious and ill-intentioned and malicious. I have been written off. What makes the hurt worse is that I was trying to do the right thing, I meant no harm.
The whole episode has completely taken the wind out of my sails, and I hate that. I can't concentrate when I feel this way (and since I'm convinced I have ADD, anyway, I'm doubly unfocused). I don't workout when I feel this way (swim? run? bike? huh?). I pretty much just obsess, stew, and self-destruct.
So that's what I'm doing today, wandering around feeling flat, depressed, self-destructive and otherwise brimming with negativity. Man, I have GOT to snap out of this.
Okay, enough, already. Next post, all happy, flowery, fuzzy, cuddly stuff. Seriously. I promise.
Let me explain what's happening, in so far as it's possible to do while still protecting the innocent and not otherwise opening up a whole can of worms (can of worms...can you buy a can of worms? if so, why would you want to? is this an old fishing expression or something? maybe Lulu's husband knows...). I have a friend who goes back and forth between thinking I'm great and hating me. Last Friday, this friend hated me. On Monday, this friend thought I was okay again. There's history and at least a partial explanation to all of this, but, like I said, I'm trying to protect the innocent here. Anyway, I was talking to my friend yesterday and I asked an admittedly insensitive and boneheaded question. Off the charts boneheaded. I do these sorts of things sometimes (you all may have noticed), because I'm a big, fat social retard. I'm trying to overcome it, but it's a struggle. Understandably, my friend lost it, could not have been more pissed off at me, hung up on me three separate times as I fumbled my way through apologies and lame explanations as to why I posed the question I did (I asked the question because I was trying to be helpful and caring--but it wasn't received that way...ugh). I got the nastiest three text messages I have ever received in my life from this person, and an incredibly cruel email. My friend now thinks I'm evil. Truly nefarious and ill-intentioned and malicious. I have been written off. What makes the hurt worse is that I was trying to do the right thing, I meant no harm.
The whole episode has completely taken the wind out of my sails, and I hate that. I can't concentrate when I feel this way (and since I'm convinced I have ADD, anyway, I'm doubly unfocused). I don't workout when I feel this way (swim? run? bike? huh?). I pretty much just obsess, stew, and self-destruct.
So that's what I'm doing today, wandering around feeling flat, depressed, self-destructive and otherwise brimming with negativity. Man, I have GOT to snap out of this.
Okay, enough, already. Next post, all happy, flowery, fuzzy, cuddly stuff. Seriously. I promise.
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