Movin' On Up

In a fit of procrastination, I decided to get a little less ghetto with this here bloggin' thing. You can now find me at:

http://InnerTeub.com

Update your Google Readers/RSS's/ etc.

Thanks!

Search for Self Called Off After 38 Years

I’m totally stealing that Onion Headline for The Boss’ birthday post, given that yesterday was his 38th birthday. Of course, the Onion article is all about the negative things, whereas I think Mike can call off his search because he, at last, has ME, and really, what else do you need? Right? RIGHT? :::Crickets::

Oh fine. He has Moose too. And a really awesome daughter:

Because I am a huge dork, I totally made everyone wear stupid birthday hats and Moose and I sang to the Boss and did I mention that we did all of this at 5am? Because we did. It would have been nice to celebrate later, but SOMEONE, not naming names (MOOSEahemMOOSE), decided to whine and bark and be restless and loud. At 5am.

The Boss got a label maker for his birthday, and while I know that sounds excessively lame, I assure you he was thrilled to receive it. Upon putting it together he immediately printed up a label that said “WIFE” and put it on my chest.

Other things that were labeled yesterday:

- The remote (Label: “Remote”)
- The label maker (Label: “Label Maker”)
- Moose’s ball sack (Label: “Empty”)

- Assorted other objects and in all fairness I should point out that I was doing most of the labeling with the Boss running around behind me going “Seriously? Baby, quit it!”

Have I mentioned that we are dorks?

Anyway, it was great to celebrate the Boss’s birthday this year. Last year he had just returned from Iraq and we were celebrating the end of a year apart; this year we were celebrating a year together. Just as it should be.

A TiVO Worthy Weekend

Saturday morning started off with long run with good friends in the most humid weather you can imagine. This was quickly followed by the world’s longest nap, which is only notable because I was wearing my birthday present:

Lululemon Organic Cotton Pants, which, ok, I KNOW it’s ridiculous to spend that kind of money on glorified sweatpants (and seriously: what the hell IS organic cotton? No, really: what?), BUT, all of that being said: Damn, I really like some good sweatpants, and DAMN are these good sweatpants. Don’t judge me till you’ve tried them, mmmkay?

Saturday was awesome and overcast and rainy and I LOVE a rainy day, I love looking at my window to misty weather; it was a great cozy morning and afternoon, complete with post-long run exhaustion. Love.

Unfortunately, a car accident (not my car, I’m Ok, just a little sore) that I was in last week has had an effect on

my back, and that combined with the long run meant I wasn’t able to do the Reston Century Bike ride I hadsigned up for with my friend Karen. Big bummer, as the one thing I really truly miss about IM training is getting to spend a beautiful day on a bike with friends. The Boss and I rallied by taking MooseTheDog down to Quantico where he could run off leash to his little heart’s content. I feel such huge city living guilt when I see how happy he is blazing through the woods, and it (almost) makes me want to run away to the mountains and never come back.

Sunday night brought Book Club at the Mills, complete with fresh Maryland Crabs (and a lesson from our native Marylander Dave on how to eat them) and a discussion about how much we all hated everyone in “The Ten Year Nap.” We realized that our book club has been meeting monthly for the past two years, and in that time there have been marriages, babies, job changes, basic life goings on that seem remarkable when added up but seem commonplace while occurring…just the standard stuff of life moving forward. Now that my friends have started having kids, I have a new found appreciation for the fact that this past spring, my mom’s book club threw me a bridal shower. I didn’t know the women very well, but they all know my mom and through her they all wanted to celebrate with me. I get that now; I feel a strong sense of … ownership, almost, for these babies. Sure, they might not know me or remember me, but I knew their moms before they were “Moms”, and I get to see how much it mean to have them in this world, and every milestone they hit will be special to me for how it affects my friends. It makes me smile to think that someday MY book club will be throwing wedding showers for our kids. Well, smile and shiver, because…damn.

The Boss and I concluded Sunday night with a watching of Gran Torino, a movie we’ve had queued up for about two weeks and hadn’t gotten a chance to watch. Clint Eastwood continues to be a total bad ass, and, while it was a slight downer of a movie, nothing bad happens to the Dog, so the Boss and I considered it a success. A great way to end a weekend, curled up on the couch where The Boss proposed, MooseTheDog at our feet, cozy and secure in our home and our thoughts. If I could TiVo this weekend and bloopBLOOP it over and over, I would.

Book Review: The Ten Year Nap

I hated every single character in this book. There was not a single individual that I didn't want to grab by the shoulders and shake while yelling "STOP COMPLAINING!"

The concept of this book is much better than the execution. The characters seemed to have no depth or dimension to them, there was no discussion about the the worlds in between staying at home full time or working full time for mothers, and as I read I kept thinking to myself "Thank GOD I'm not friends with any of these hateful people."

I can't stop thinking about it and how annoyed I am by this book, which I suppose is enough to recommend it; it's the forgettable books I am sorry I took the time to read. And I think it will serve as interesting discussion fodder for book club, at the very least; a book about the horribly unhappy lives of women grappling with the decisions that lead them to becoming stay at home moms is an interesting topic for a book club filled with professional woman in their 20s thinking about having/just beginning to have kids (any suggestions on how to make that last sentence LONGER? Yeah, didn't think so). And the book DID make me think about where I want to be in 10/15 years and how the person I am now -- and the choices I am making now -- will influence that.

But it still sucked. Ugh.

Ironman Redux

Last week I did something stupid: I registered for Ironman CdA. The
race is on June 27, 2009, which means I have appx 10 months to get my sorry ass back into shape.

I cannot believe I did this. I mean, marriage has been going pretty well so far – why add the stress of IM training into it? But, The Boss registered with me (it will be his second time on this course; he did it in 2006), and it should be interesting to see the disarray that our life descends into when you have two people training for the same IM.

In honor of this, I wanted to post my race report that I wrote last November, after IM AZ. This is my little motivational reminder of how “worth it” it all is.

Race Recap:

Swim (2.4 Miles):
I hopped in the water holding hands with Jess, who got me into this stupid hobby in the first place. I watched Jess do this race in 2007 and 2008, and this year she asked me if I wasn’t done sitting on the sidelines. I still haven’t quite forgiven her for that  Anyway, jumping in with her was totally my favorite moment of the morning! We both screamed as we entered the water and then laughed as we adjusted to the cold temps.

We made our way over to ...somewhere. I really have no idea where we seeded ourselves. We high fived with a bunch of people and everyone was friendly and talkative and laughing and "WOOO IRONMAN!" until the gun went off and everyone turned into a total asshole. Seriously, I've never been so close to getting into a fist fight in my LIFE as I was at this swim start! I now understand how and why people panic in the water -- I've never really had a panic impulse myself, but I get it now! I felt like it was impossible to swim for the first five minutes, but I was getting carried along by the draft eventually just decided to stop waiting for clear water and to make my own.

I felt like I was pretty far in the back this whole swim, as I felt like I was battling slow swimmers and struggling to keep a pace. Overall though, I liked this swim -- the water temp was perfect and I was very comfortable. I did notice my stroke getting sloppy a certain points and redoubled my efforts to maintain good form.

Saw Jeff at the wetsuit stripping. YAY! We had a little struggle as my suit got caught in my wrist band, so I lost a few minutes there, but I was thrilled to see my friend.

Shocked to learn my swim was sub 1:20. I was shooting for 1:30!

Transition One:
Apparently, I took a nap here. Ok, not really, but this was a looooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnng. I decide to change complete - dry bike shorts, bike jersey. I didn't want to be cold on the bike :)

Next time: eff that. I'm just gonna go!

Bike (112 miles):
I felt like I had NO power on this ride. I really felt like I struggled! The first loop had some wind that was fairly demoralizing, and while it was much better on subsequent loops, the damage had been done. My legs were tired.

I felt like I probably ate too much too quickly, and spent the rest of the bike trying to correct that problem. I don't know..I really just had a hard time getting into a groove and feeling good. I stopped at least once each lap to go to the bathroom, and lost time there as well.

The best advice I got was from Mike Ricci -- "if you get cranky on the bike -- EAT!". I did get VERY cranky on the bike, VERY often, and whenever that would happen I would eat and then I felt better.

I paced this bike ALL wrong. I wish I could get a do over, but oh well. Now I know.

Transition Two:
Dude, they had massage therapists in the tent. WHY did I leave T2? I have no idea.

Run (26.2 Miles)

Goal: Run to every aid station, the walk the station. I accomplished this goal through mile 16.

My brother jumped in an ran with me the first 13 miles!! I can't believe he did that, but he did. That was my favorite part of the day, for sure... we were just running along and chatting. He moved from DC to LA earlier this year, and we're not neighbors anymore, and I miss him. It was GREAT to catch up and hang out, and I barely realized I was in an Ironman during this time. We had a blast. My favorite moment was when someone shouted "Go Elizabeth!" and he was like "my GOD, how many people do you know? You're like a rockstar!" and I finally clued him into the fact that my name was on my race number. Heh. I should have let him keep thinking I was just that famous :)

Anyway, I was pretty happy that I was keeping on my run/walk schedule, taking an eGel every three miles and felt pretty good. I was almost always surprised to see aid stations come up -- it felt like they were ticking off pretty quickly. That was cool. Mike left at mile 13 and I kept trudging along. Right around mile 16 the wheels started to come off, and then by mile 17 it happened: Leg cramp. Holy HELL that really hurts!!! My hip flexors, quads and calves were completely seizing up when I would life my knee to start running. Grrrrr. I could still walk though, and that's what I did -- tried to speed walk my way in.

Weird things starting happening to my body at this point. My whole mid section hurt to the touch, and I realized it was just profound ab muscles soreness. (Note to self: stop ignoring core work) My legs felt like they were on FIRE and all I wanted to do was drop them in Tempe Town Lake to cool them off. I was starting to bloat a bit, as I could tell from my race belt feeling tighter. Mostly I just really hurt. I've done long races before, but I don't ever think I've ever just straight up HURT like I did here. I think it's interesting to note, however, I never once had IT band pain. That is normally what knocks me out of running races, and I didn't hear a peep from them all day. I'm calling that a win :)

I REALLY didn't want to start that third lap. I was NOT looking forward to crossing the river again and going to the dark cold parts of Tempe, and I knew it was going to take FOREVER to finish that lap while walking. MikeNotMyBrother (Fiance Mike) joined me for a few miles and it was great to have company again, to be cheered on even though I was only walking, and to share part of the race with him. We did the math and realized I had the chance to beat his IM time, but only if I could run, which...no. So I let that dream go. It's ok -- as long as I don't give the bike back to him I can still try to beat his CdA time! :D

Around mile 19 I was getting sleepy, so I hit the coke. I didn't really enjoy the cola, but I was scared of coming off a coke crash, so I took it at every aid station from there on out.

Around mile 23, I'm going under this overpass, it's dark, cold, there's not a lot of people around, and a guy that was shuffling along with me collapsed to the ground in full leg spasm. I stopped to help rub out his calf and tried to lift him to his feet, but I couldn't lift enough and he couldn't push himself up. Eventually a volunteer showed and radioed for a medic, and it occurred to me that this guy was going to get pulled off the course. At mile 23.

I left him -- there were people with him, and not moving was making me cramp again -- but I started to get scared. I had thought that if I started the run, there was no way I wouldn't finish, and until that moment, I still believed it, but suddenly I realized that my legs were on the verge of doing the same thing, and I might get pulled from the course too, with only three miles to go. I didn't want that to happen. At the next aid station I took a Gatorade.

Ok, I NEVER drink Gatorade when I run. Most sports drinks give me the WORST side stitches and leave me immobilized. But I realized I needed to get electrolytes to stop the cramping, and I also realized that I wasn't running :). I'm pretty sure the drink helped my legs a ton, and I was able to pick up the pace a bit.

And then... then the finish. I saw my friend Dave right before the turn into the finish, and he walked with me for a bit. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to run the finish shoot -- I was really worried about re-cramping-- but the minute I turned the corner and saw the shoot, I wanted to try. It felt great to just freaking RUN my way in, not worrying about sustaining a pace, cramping legs, anything -- just let loose and fly.

And that's what it felt like -- finishing basically felt like flying. It was awesome, every bit as awesome as I wondered it might be.

Thoughts:
I hadn't wanted to do a 15:30 Ironman, partly because of ego, but also because I didn't really want to be on my feet for that long. To say that it hurt at the end doesn't really encompass it. That was, by far, one of the most painful experiences I've ever had.

I think back on the race and I can pin point specific moments where I could have shaved literally hours off my time. And maybe someday I'll go back and do just that.

I think I do myself a disservice by being friends with so many accomplished athletes. I've watched these "mere mortals" train for and race Ironmans for the past three years, and I think the extent of how ... I don't know, hard, amazing, challenging, awesome, it all is has...lessened, to an extent. When I first heard of Ironman, and learned what the distances were, I was overwhelmed. Over time, that feeling went away. I came to believe -- and I still kind of believe this -- that anyone can finish an Ironman, provided they want to train for it. But, it's more than that, I don't think I realized that until I was out there doing it.

I'm grateful I was able to finish, and I know my finish time reflects what I was able to do that day. But the overwhelming feeling of Ironman has hit me again. I almost can't believe what I did. But more so, I know that I can do better. I feel like I really get what they mean when they say Ironman. It's not just going through the motions in training, though that will most likely get you to the finish line. I haven't even begun to learn what I don't know about Ironman training.

All of that being said: I'm still an effing Ironman. And it feels awesome.

Book Review: It Sucked and Then I Cried

I got turned on to Dooce.com a few months ago, and have enjoyed casually reading through this blog as decent work-procrastination fodder. Heather’s sense of humor is similar to mine, and I have to appreciate anyone who describes themselves thusly:

I grew up in a small suburb of Memphis, Tennessee, and graduated valedictorian of Bartlett High School in 1993. The reason I am telling you about the valedictorian part is because being able to say, "I was the valedictorian" is the only privilege I ever got in life from achieving that goal. No one ever hired me because I was valedictorian. The lesson to be learned from this is: AIM LOW. Save yourself the time.

My parents raised me Mormon, and I grew up believing that the Mormon Church was true. In fact, I never had a cup of coffee until I was 23 years old. I had pre-marital sex for the first time at age 22, but BY GOD I waited an extra year for the coffee. There had better be a special place in heaven for me.

I’d read enough entries from her site to be reasonably interested in her book: “It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had A Baby, A Breakdown, and A Much Needed Margarita.” First off: Great title. Secondly, I’m in that phase in life where the majority of my good friends are going through the transition from “non-parent” to “parent”, so the topic is both timely and interesting to me.

It’s… I mean, it’s an ok book. As are most books written by bloggers, it’s more a compilation of blog entries loosely strung together; I wish the editor had been more vigorous in forcing a bridge between ideas so it felt like I was reading the next “chapter”, not the next “entry.” It’s well written, of course; I was engaged by what I was reading, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the story wasn’t really being told. I never got the sense of a timeline or progress forward (actually, the beginning of the book is better about general narrative than the middle / end.) It’s almost as if the complete and total mental breakdown was just too hard to relive, so instead there was a straight cut and paste of blog entries in the hopes that the gist of what was happening would come through. Which: hey man, I Get It, but if that’s the case…maybe wait to put out the book until you really CAN tell the story?

I’m thrilled that more and more women are discussing post partum depression, or even depression at all. I don’t think there’s anything shameful in Heather’s three day stay in a mental hospital and I wish more people would acknowledge depression as a Real Thing that requires Real Treatment; any book that comes out that serves to lessen any stigma to the disease is a good thing. But this book, despite it’s great title, didn’t quite hit the mark for me. (I know, I know: “it’s not the critic that counts…”) Your better bet would be to check out the blog and read the back entries. Equally as entertaining and 100% freer.

What’s Up With New Jersey?

I came across this headline while browsing through the online version of the New York Times, and I thought to myself “Oh LORD I do not know.”

New Jersey and I have quite the love/hate relationship. On the one hand, I love love love my stepdaughter, tomatoes, and not having to pump my own gas, three things from New Jersey that would seem to recommend the state overall; on the other, I hate hate hate Atlantic City (and related environs [unless, of course, I’m at the Gypsy Bar at the Borgata listening to Screaming Broccoli; in that case AC and I are cool]), the turnpike, and really big hair. (For New Jersey’s part, I’m sure it could do without my repeated sigh of “Ugh, I’m in New Jersey”)

Of course, the article wasn’t even remotely about my issues (which I admit I exaggerate out of melodrama. Hello my in laws! You’re fabulous!), but rather the fact that 44 people - including three mayors, two state assemblymen and other public officials- were arrested last week on corruption charges. Dude.

The more I learn about the governance of this state, the more intrigued I am. Check it out:

There are “566 municipalities in New Jersey (California has only 480), 603 school districts (more than the states of Maryland, Delaware and Virginia combined), 187 fire districts, 486 local authorities, 92 special taxing districts, and 21 county governments”

Holy COW that’s a lot of government. Can you imagine trying to get anything done, let alone provide oversight? That almost makes the District of Columbia look well run. No wonder the state is broke. (The consultant in me wants to rush over offer them a total business transformation model. You could Lean Six the hell out of this whole system. Ahem.)

Aside from that, the article in the Times posed an interesting hypothesis: the slow spiral of death that printed media is on is partially to blame.

Perhaps, today’s proliferation of local blogs and Web sites may get more New Jerseyans to turn their attention to the place where they live. On the other hand, as New Jersey and New York’s newspapers reduce their staffs and cutback or eliminate coverage of the Garden State, many New Jerseyans will probably become even less aware of what their local officials are up to

.
I disagree. Mike over at Loo.Me writes semi frequently about New Media and the changing business rules that are affecting newspapers. One theory posed is that local papers will focus less on international issues, national sports, movie reviews, etc etc (why duplicate the efforts of major media centers?), which makes more sense to me. Additionally, I’d always viewed those stories through the filter of how that will affect people’s jobs and the overall printing industry; I’d never consider how it would affect the political or habits of society as a whole. It makes sense to me that as newspapers reduce their staff and cutback coverage, they’ll cut back the coverage that can be easily found elsewhere; most international and national news can now be found online by major news sources; no need duplicate that effort. Perhaps the cut backs on newspapers will lead to better coverage and oversight of hometown news.

Admitting When You're Wrong

Well done, New York Times, for admitting when you make a mistake. Of course, I'm a little staggered by the extent of the mistake, but let's focus on the positive, mmmkay?

See below the posted corrections for the coverage of Walter Cronkite's death. It's a good thing he wasn't really a details guy, right? Wait...

"An appraisal on Saturday about Walter Cronkite’s career included a number of errors. In some copies, it misstated the date that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was killed and referred incorrectly to Mr. Cronkite’s coverage of D-Day. Dr. King was killed on April 4, 1968, not April 30. Mr. Cronkite covered the D-Day landing from a warplane; he did not storm the beaches. In addition, Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon on July 20, 1969, not July 26. “The CBS Evening News” overtook “The Huntley-Brinkley Report” on NBC in the ratings during the 1967-68 television season, not after Chet Huntley retired in 1970. A communications satellite used to relay correspondents’ reports from around the world was Telstar, not Telestar. Howard K. Smith was not one of the CBS correspondents Mr. Cronkite would turn to for reports from the field after he became anchor of “The CBS Evening News” in 1962; he left CBS before Mr. Cronkite was the anchor. Because of an editing error, the appraisal also misstated the name of the news agency for which Mr. Cronkite was Moscow bureau chief after World War II. At that time it was United Press, not United Press International."

CrossFitted

In second grade, I got busted for skipping class. Now, I agree, any seven year old skipping out on classes (my preferred method of truancy: ask to go to the bathroom, and then never return) is cause for alarm – that behavior is clearly not going anywhere good. What makes me laugh, however, is that the class that I was skipping was GYM.

OMG I hated being forced to play. HATED. I skipped recess, too. I much preferred to curl up with a book and read throughout rather than OMG INTERACT WITH KIDS MY AGE PLEASE MAKE THE FUN STOP. (Side note: You know how on Gilmore Girls, Rory is first approached by CuteDean because he noticed her reading a book and was all a-swoon with how hot she was, sitting there being all intellectual? THAT NEVER HAPPENS. EVER. The CW is LYING to you, Book Smart Girls of High School Age. LYING.) (Side note to my side note: Keep reading anyway. High school boys are dumb and the mostly all end up living in their parents basement wondering where their glory years went. But you? You will live a full life of awesomeness that will only be enriched by your bad book lovin’ self.)

ANYWAY. My point: I hated gym, and did basically EVERYTHING in my power to avoid any gym type activities.

Life is a bit different for me now. Something clicked as I got older and I began to really embrace physical fitness in non-group sport form. Individual sports were totally the key for me, and being an “adult onset athlete” has shaped my life (and ass) in more ways than I ever imagined possible. That being said, I still stand by my hatred of gym class and group sport activities. So it makes me TOTALLY giggle that I’ve been going three days a week to a crappy run down gym complete with pull up bars, free weights, and other intimidating gym class type torture devices, and PAYING SOMEONE MONEY to recreate gym class.

That’s right folks: I’ve embraced the CrossFit fad completely.

There’s a lot of writing on CrossFit and its philosophy and methodology, but for me it basically boils down to a shorter, more intense workout that kicks my butt and makes me want to cry. Now, I’ve cried at the end of three hour runs before, but it’s nice to be able to get to that point more quickly, y’know? (…erm. No. You might not know.) Anyway, after so many years of pure long distance endurance, this shorter, intenser, power/strength based workouts are totally intriguing me. You do CF on your own (the website has the Workout of the Day posted um, daily), but it's great to have a dedicated coach watching to make sure I don't do anything stupid to hurt myself (in addition to going over - and over - the correct form for everything from rowing to deadlifts to pullups) and a group of people to suffer with.

Take this past Monday. I showed up at 6am to find the group doing the following workout:

Run 400m
30 pullups
30 kettlebell swings
Repeat 5x

Which was slight different than Friday’s workout:

Complete as many rounds in 20 minutes as you can of:
5 Pull-ups
10 Push-ups
15 Squats

Now, I cannot do 30 pullups (and I certainly cannot do them 5x in a row), but I can do modified pull-ups, and hopefully sooner than later I WILL be able to do a full one unassisted… and then another one. And while I still like going on long bike rides and runs, it’s fun for me to have a workout that can resoundly kick my ass in 30 minutes or less. And more so than that, these workouts are making me stronger overall, which is only going to help me get better and better at the longer distance stuff I love so much.

While I know CrossFit is a hugely hyped fad right now, I’m loving it, and I’m seeing the results. And it has the added benefit of reminding me how far I’ve come from that second grade bookworm who was petrified of gym.

Oh My Holy Hell

So, remember how I'm deathly afraid of ants?

Yeah, you can imagine how excited I was to learn of the Ant Mega Colony Taking Over The World

Finally, Flickr Gets Back in The Game

I've been a Flickr user since 2005, and lately have been wondering if it's time to jump ship. For one thing, I can NEVER remember my damn Yahoo! login that they make me ever since they've been sold, so I can really only access Flickr on a computer that has me continually logged in, but also because I haven't seen them really innovating or doing anything different to make it as user friendly as other photo apps, up to and including Facebook.

So I'm pretty happy to hear from TechCrunch that Flickr and Twitter are linking up (or, "sucking face", as they would say). From their release:

In addition to email uploads, Flickr now lets you Tweet out any photos directly from the site. After linking your accounts, whenever you click on the “Blog this” button on any photo on Flickr, your Twitter account will be one of the distribution options. This works for both photos you’ve uploaded and other photos you find on the site.

Yay! Flickr just got relevant again. Cool.

BMI, Healthy Knees, and Why Runner's World Can Bite Me

In this month’s Runner’s World, there was an article detailing different types of knee pain, and the causes and risks associated with said pain. One of the knee injuries profiled is one I’m quite familiar with: Iliotibial-Band(ITB) Syndrome, which is inflammation in the band of fibers that run along the outside of the knee.

Now, according to this article, the people most at risk are “Women with a BMI of 21 (weighing 135 at 5’7”, for example)” because the “extra body weight puts a heavier load on the hips and more pressure on the IT band.”

As a woman with a BMI of 21 – which is to say, I’m 5’7” and weigh 135 – I say: Bite me.

Forgetting for a second that, according to the National Institute of Health, a BMI of 21 is considered “Normal,” and therefore the premise of my “extra weight” causing knee pain is inherently flawed, I can think of about a thousand different reasons why this article and its conclusion is one of the more annoying things I’ve encountered this week. In the interest of time, I’ll give you two:


1. BMI is a ridiculous way to assess “healthy” weight

BMI doesn’t distinguish between muscle and fat…and muscle weighs more. I weigh about 10 pounds more than I did when I was in college, but I’m about 100x healthy than I was then. Last year, I posted a picture of me running my very first running race in 2005, and my brother commented: “Whoa, you look so much skinner – and not in a good way.” And he was right. I was a TON skinnier, but had no muscles, no strength, and, ironically, my knee problems were a LOT worse.


2. At the risk of sounding hyper sensitive: 135 pounds at 5’7” isn’t fat.

It just isn’t, and I’d appreciate it if pop culture would stop telling me that any female weighing more than 110 weighs too much. I’ve had more than one friend – and , if I’m going to be honest, I’ve spent more than a few days myself – stressing about “weighing too much”, when the reality of what is “too much” is based on such flawed perception. If we ever wonder why, as a culture, we’re so fat and/or neurotic, maybe it’s because we focus on entirely the wrong things. Numbers on a scale instead of the types of food we eat, size of our waist instead of the distance we can run or weight we can lift.

I think if I’d read this article in Cosmo or US Weekly, I wouldn’t care so much; those magazines aren’t intended to focus on fitness and health. But Runner’s World is, and I’m totally annoyed that they missed the mark so completely.

How Twitter Can Make You A Happier Person

Just read a great post titled “How Twitter Can Make You A Better (and Happier) Person” by the CEO of Zappos.

Tony – the Zappos guy – is one of my favorite people I follow on Twitter. I’m a big fan of the company for many reasons, and only one is related to shoes; I’ve been working in the field of Client Satisfaction for awhile, and Zappos has done a GREAT job building a company that encompasses the Client Sat values I think are important to be successful. When I read about the Zappo’s corporate values and culture, I’m reminded about how I want to frame my own professional values -- but that’s a totally different post.

ANYWAY, in this post Tony discusses what it means to him to tweet daily, and how he uses it as an opportunity to reinforce his overall values – both corporate and personal. As he says:

1. Transparency & Values: Twitter constantly reminds me of who I want to be, and what I want Zappos to stand for
2. Reframing Reality: Twitter encourages me to search for ways to view reality in a funnier and/or more positive way
3. Helping Others: Twitter makes me think about how to make a positive impact on other people's lives
4. Gratitude: Twitter helps me notice and appreciate the little things in life

I go back and forth on whether or not to protect my Twitter updates; on the one hand, I want to be able to communicate with my family and friends without worrying about my employer seeing what I wrote, on the other, I don’t want to be writing things that I would be embarrassed for my employer to see.

After re-reading this blog I’m unlocking my tweets again, and rethinking how I want to mass communicate with the world.

Little Wedding Moments

So many things to remember about the wedding, little moments I never want to forget. So this entry is really just for myself, although you’re welcome to remember along with me. I'm sure I'll leave out so many, but this is just the little stuff, the one-offs, that I'd hate to lose.

1. Forgetting to ask Devon to do the reading, and then frantically texting her the day before. And then forgetting to GIVE Devon the reading, and having her see it for the first time 40 minutes before the ceremony

2. My brother, at the rehearsal dinner, beginning his toast with “Well, in high school, we were all pretty convinced that Liz was a lesbian…”

3. Doing shots of whiskey with my cousins the night before, and thinking to myself “This is the moment I’m going to reference as the moment I should have stopped drinking”

4. Des doing my hair and being impeccably German about the whole thing.

5. The relief of Devon taking my blackberry away from me and fielding all questions, concerns or suggestions the day of. It was exactly what I needed.

6. Running to the pre ceremony margarita hour in flip flops and a sundress

7. Neglecting to actually pick music for the ceremony, and having my dad ask me, as we’re walking in, “Is there music?” and going “Whoops. Um, probably not”

8. …and then being happily surprised to hear Clair de Lune strike up and realize that, once again, Kristen had saved the day

9. Walking down the aisle with my dad, and thinking that it was too short. A huge moment over so quickly.


10. During the vows, thinking to myself “I also vow to stop leaving water bottles all over the house, as I know how much it annoys you”

11. My uncle doing the ceremony, and needing the golf pro to make it official

12. Pictures with Mike and Sammy during the cocktail hour, and us calling to Sammy during breaks: “Sammy – bring the scotch!”

13. Toasts! I love a good toast, and so many wonderful ones… both brothers, my dad, Eddie, Faith, Sara, Devon, Marjorie, Rob, Mad [Col Hadder], the Teubners, Mike and Ann…and so many I’m sure I’m forgetting at this moment.

14. The Fudgie the Whale Ice Cream Wedding Cake

15. First song from the band: Sweet Home Alabama. And I didn’t sit down for a single second after they started

16. Samantha singing. Oh my God this was the most amazing moment of the wedding. She wanted to sing for our “first dance,” and then, in the middle of the band’s first set, she got up there with them and belted out Journey’s “Open Arms.” Tears, people. Tears.

17. Speaking of the band: amazing. I’d travel to go see them as a special event; having them at my wedding was an amazing present from Kristen and Joe. Amazing.

18. Sending Laura to go get my parents for the band’s first encore, Billy Joel’s Italian Restaurant.

19. Second encore: Scotty Doesn’t Know – Just for Mike

20. My family and I toasting each other with cans of Bud… much like my parents did 37 years ago at their wedding. I don’t know who smuggled in the Budweiser, but I owe them big time


21. The disgusting sweaty mess that was my brother Mike

22. …and how he split his pants while dancing

23. Laura requesting MmmmmmBOP at the bar afterwards, and the DJ almost kicking us out



24. Mike purchasing $120 worth of beer at the beer (a total of 24 beers. Ouch) to move the pool

25. Changing out of my wedding dress at the pool deck into Devon’s borrowed bikini

26. Mike showing people how to open beer bottles with his wedding ring

27. Swimming/hot tubbing with the gang till 4:30 in the morning, then walking back to our hotel room barefoot and in a bathing suit...

28. …and waking up the next to discover I had no other clothes with me (side note: thanks to Devon for grabbing my dress!)

29. …making Mike’s first official husband act the act of “Find wife some clothes”

30. Someone at the brunch the next morning asking me why I was in such a good mood after so little sleep, and me saying “Not sure, I think I might still be drunk”

31. Leisurely drive down to Key West on Monday … the first time Mike and I had been alone in almost a week. It was perfect.

You Come Too

Speaking of weddings, The Boss and I recently wrote our wedding ceremony. This was probably the last detail we took care of (the first being, obviously, the pre ceremony margarita bar), but it was by far my favorite. It feels like us, and even though the ceremony will be, at most, about 10 minutes, I love every element that we’ve incorporated, and was pleasantly reminded why I’ve spent the past three months caring about table linens and calligraphy.

HOWEVER, while weeding through various readings for the ceremony, and it came to my attention that, when speaking of love and lifetime commitment, most people are full of shit. That being said, there were a few readings that I really liked, and we found a few that worked for us.

One reading that I loved was from Rilke’s “First Poems.” We didn't end up using it for the ceremony, so I'll share it with you here:

"Understand, I'll slip quietly
Away from the noisy crowd
When I see the pale
Stars rising, blooming over the oaks.
I'll pursue solitary pathways
Through the pale twilit meadows,
With only this one dream:
You come too"

The Talk

Wow, a month between posts. Whoops.


So, I’m getting married next weekend. Score! In the grand tradition of couples everywhere, The Boss and I had the pre-wedding heated conversation, which went a little like this:

The Boss: "Umm, honey? Can you stop spending money on clothes for the wedding weekend?"
Me: "Hey man, you only get married once"

[AWKWARD SILENCE ]

Me: "…Well, I mean, in THEORY"

Whoops. Oh well - no sense in getting caught up in the details, right? Right.

I Love a Rainy Night

Maybe it’s the Minnesota girl in me, but this picture from my friend's lake house just feels like home to me. A big lake covered in rain – man, I wish I was there right now, curled up inside, watching the water.

I love rainy weather. I love running/biking in the rain, getting muddy and dirty in a way that adults don’t generally deem acceptable, and knowing that only people who truly love to run and bike are out there with you; our own little fraternity of crazies, getting to experience the city in a way most people miss. I love coming home after said muddying and taking a long hot shower, warm and secure inside while the rain swirls around outside. Rainy days give you a great excuse to hibernate and cuddle up with a good book, a good person, or a good group of friends.

A good friend once told me that Seattle was full of people who used to like rain. I’m sure he’s right, and I’m sure I’d miss spring if I didn’t have the promise that it would most definitely be coming, but honestly, this rainy spring in DC has been one of my favorites.

Everyone Hates Running

Great post today at Bodies in Motivation:

“No one likes running. This I believe firmly: this is why I kind of
silently roll my eyes when I hear my friends say, ‘I can’t run. I hate
running.’

Well- yes, you can. And everyone hates running.”

Go read the whole thing. And then go for a run.

Note To Self

When partaking in "Operation: Smokin' Hot Bod"*, the correct response to the "I'll just have a snack now because dinner is in 3 hours" thought is NOT the leftover calzone waiting for you in the fridge.

Protein shake, cliff bar, cottage cheese, chocolate milk: Yes.
Cheesy carbtastic calzone (but it had SPINACH. Which is HEALTHY): No

*Also known as: 2 months before wedding