Training day: Long run no. 3 (the Burb Edition)

It turns out I was off, like way off. Perhaps you might recall those first two 8.5 milers done over the past two weeks? Try 10.5. Yup. I was way off. Probably.

I'm in CT this weekend (Lola needed me, obviously) and, not knowing a 10 mile route off hand, I had to clock it with the car the night before. I drove the car down and around between my town and the next until I created a giant bow of a course with my parent's house at its center - dangerous considering at mile 7 I had to run past that sanctuary of rest. By the end of the drive, I had an eleven mile run to conquer.

And conquer I did at about the exact same time it took me to run my previous 8.5. WEIRD. I came to a sweaty screeching halt in front of my parent's house, turned off the ipod, paused the stopwatch to find that my would be two hour jog took 1:41, just four minutes more than my previous long runs.

It's funny how you can psyche yourself out of it, though. Like when I hit about mile eight and I was pretty convinced that I'd never make it because that extra couple of miles seemed an inhuman feat of strength. FOOL. If only I could trick myself into thinking this was all very easy.

The mileage mix up was a nice surprise. Though I don't really believe it - how could I have been two miles off?! This is what happens when you try to read a hand-drawn map.

Anyhoo, my suburban job was pleasant enough. I had to run the long run on Friday instead of Saturday so my legs felt more like lead instead of feather light flights of fancy (not that I can recall that ever happening). I had ice cold water, ice cold endurance drinks (pomegranate - yum) and an ever delightful This American Life episode (#203: Recordings for Someone). The weather was actually perfect (hard to imagine), not yet this thick pea soup humidity and a cool summer 70. Man, I wonder what that was like.

Since this epic jog I have been running smaller routes around the neighborhood that in this 90-degrees-by-seven weather is verging on torture. And if this weather continues for my next long run I cannot be responsible for the pools I will jump in and the few sprinklers whose spits of cold water I will lap up like a puppy.

Long run #3:
Mileage: about 10.5
Time: 1.41
Overall: 8 (pros: weather, cold beverages, ample amount of shade, route, surprising time / cons: Repeat TAL episode, weather, scenery).

xoL

Training day: Long run no. 2*

*Spoiler alert: it did not go well and gross things ahead*

To cut right to the chase: I bit it. Hard core and within the first 20 minutes of my run. Damn it and ew.



It was a nice start. I was out on the road early, so it was quiet on the Cambridge side of the Charles River. My This American Life (Ep: #102, Roadtrip!) was a distracting delight and the river sparkled ahead, beckoning me on.

Suddenly, the gravel path reach up and grabbed hold of my pretty new sneaker and threw me forward so that I was sailing through the air with the greatest of unease. Mid flight I heard, through my earphone, an "Ooooooo" from a nearby pedestrian. And then I skidded to an elegant stop with the palms of my hands, obviously testing out a handstand-to-backspring landing, which failed miserably.

From my dirt landing strip I brushed at the sand and grit on my legs and peered at the now-bloody-palms, not quite sure what to do. A kind man helped me up and told me to take a breather but I assured him I just needed to wash myself off, as I smeared my hands across my McDonald's-yellow tank top.

A little rattled, yes. But I was immediately annoyed that this interference had to come so early in the trip and that I had to sacrifice a precious quarter of water. So I jogged on, a little wobbly and with hands throbbing.

It was really only at home when my heart rate slowed and, faced with the prospect of a hot shower, that I realized how bad my hands were. But, being a wait-and-see-how-it-goes kind of gal I gingerly washed the dirt from my body, poured shampoo on my head, swabbed at cuts with disinfectant and called it a day. We were in a rush, on to the beach and I figured an afternoon in the ocean water would cure all.

Beach trip, however, involved a new fabulous friend who is, unfortunately, a nurse who tsk-tsked at my unclean wounds and told me I had to scrub to clean them out. And, true to her word, the salt water did little to get the dirt and stones out of my hand so back at home, after a few beers and an hour soak in bubbly water, a baby shot of whiskey and an old Friends episode as a distraction, I (shiver) scrubbed (pawed) to meager success.

Gross.

I'm glad I could share that.

And so, my second attempt at a long run gets a less-than stellar rating. Pros: cold beverages, laugh-out-loud funny TAL episode. Cons: repeat route, bloody hands. Thus:

Mileage: 8.6
Approx. time: 1:37
Overall rating: 6.2

And now for some antibacterial remedy for the image I have just painted:




xoL

A walk in the woods with Lola

I had a day with Lola. So we took a stroll.

Hangin' tough in Orange

Perhaps, like me, you find yourself back at home in a small town in southern Connecticut. You've just spent 12 very quick months in the windy city and now, just as suddenly, you are sleeping in your pink-flower-decorated childhood room (albeit with a bed upgrade). So you're 29 years old. So the new dog has usurped your position as beloved female child.

What to do, what to do.

Since I'm experienced in this realm, I'll pass on a few good-times-a-comin' suggestions to help you pass the time.

Earn your keep. Let's be honest. Times are tough. You can't just be hanging on that comfy couch in the basement with all that glorious cable and not expect to give a little. Am I right? Besides, I dunno about you but, my Dad is one day away from selling me off to our neighbors for some good ol' fashioned yard work. Anyhoo. Get in there. I'm not saying you need to paint the house or grout the bathroom. Maybe bike down to your grocery story and pick up a little somethin' somethin'. Or empty the dishwasher or cook some dinner and then make sure to brag about it for most the night.

let yourself go. Why not? What are you doing with yourself anyway? Tap into that teen angst with a jammies outfit that lasts all day. Develop a little adult-on-set acne. Sure, keep things spicy.

When all else fails....hit up a puppy glamor shoot

Lola the sea-dog-wonder


Pensive Lola


Lola and toys


Lola from afar


Lola and friend


Lola and the vest of humiliation


Lola sunbathing

The time of her life

Looks like someone's having a summer!



Boating muffin!

pictoral catch-u-up

Hey there. It's been a while. I know, I know. But here's a quick spin, a compilation, of my last - oh - five weeks.

Completed my third quarter by a hair. I celebrated with friends and jetted back East where I delighted in terrible June weather but wonderfully relaxing home-type stuff.

I hung out with a not-so-little Lola:




Took a trip into the city and hung out with a definitely Little S:



A real Little L:



And ate some super little C's:



So tiny:



Found serious BBQ in BK:



I flew on back to Chicago swapped cold-weather clothes for warm and welcomed the summer.

I had me a taste:



and got really wet:



but found some fun in a little Booker T. and, yes, a throw back with Guster:



I completely missed any fireworks happening in Chicago but felt the rumble on the streets and the shouts from the public and felt pretty patriotic.

Now I have seven whole weeks to create an online magazine, run/swim/bike a triathlon, rent out my apartment, figure out what to do with all that I own and design some sort of a future that involves writing and other journalism-type-stuff that would make this fancy M.A. all worth it.

eek.

xoxoL

...and we're back

I feel like more happened today than in my three week (OK,month) hiatus from this blog/school/chicago/life, but a quick summary wouldn't hurt. Right?

Let's see, since I signed off on December 1st, 2008 there was:

A final project
Creepy building tours
Bitter cold days spent wondering the Chicago streets
Final flush-inducing presentations
A holiday party with a splash (alright, a flood) of air guitar
A punishing migraine
Panic packing
A much anticipated return to NYC
College (with bangs) redeux
Another holiday party (crashed)
Death by brie
Brunch
A walk across the Brooklyn Bridge
A Baby visit
A stomach flu
An R visit
Cuddles with Lola
An early Christmas
A Jamaican vacation
Many a good meal
Evenings of catch up with far-away family
A delayed flight
More cuddles with Lola
Return of R
A short road trip North
Fantastic bouts of laziness
Bad movies
Good movies
Great movies
Old movies
Home cooked meals
Shopping
Shared lunches
Drinks with old friends and new
A blizzard
A New Years sake bomb
A New Year
No resolutions, but some goals
More brunch (what was that, croissant french toast?)
A vague anniversary
Wonderful sleep in mornings
A very early morning
An epic road trip
A speedy return (all things considered)
A sigh of relief
A day of organization
A good night's sleep
A first day of school
A first blog post of the new year

...and I think that brings us up to speed.

A new semester means new classes, challenges and, above all, a better commute! Yes. No more hour long thing. No more burbs. No sir. I'm up and at 'em and in downtown Chicago in 30 minutes or less! Yup. No more Evanston. It's glorious.

Our tuition 'includes' a transit pass that allows us to go all over this great city (woo hoo). The fine print being that we have to travel up to campus (aka Evanston. aka the hour long commute) to get it (boo hiss). So this morning I sucked it up (I have Monday morning free, ps. Jealous?) and traveled up to the Evs at my normal rush hour time (8 am). I got up there pretty swiftly, had an awkward hello with an administrator, picked up my pass and attempted to get on with my morning. Walking back through campus my eye caught a few newbies anxiously looking skyward and I felt good and nostalgic, even, for those early panic-stricken days when everything was (too) new. I felt revived and ready to take on a new semester, happy to be in Chicago and to be back at school. Yes, I may have been skipping.

That was, until, the transit system failed me (really CTA? So early into the new year?) with derailment problems or signal issues or something. There was no sweet express train bringing back downtown. Instead, I had a long and cold wait on a random corner with some angry and crazy commuters. There was the toothless guy who spit his words to the sidewalk. There was an older woman who 'knows a thing or two about the CTA and has a thing or two to tell them.' She also had a thing or two dripping out of her nose that tended to graze my coat. But, after 20 minutes of waiting on a cold, seemingly abandoned, stoop you really feel like you belong with these irate crazies. I may have spat a little myself. I may have added a 'uh huh' and a 'you tell him' to the pacing man's rant.

Though, when the bus finally did come I took my seat in the back and pretended to be terribly enthralled by the passing scenery. I have enough friends, after all. Many buses and two hours later I was back in my hood and rushing to get ready for my first day of school.

But, after all of this, maybe that's a story for another time. I will say, I am excited. The kind of excited that is laced with anxiety and makes me sweat a little, but that's not so bad (and not so unexpected, let's be honest).

Oh, and a muffin shout out:



She's so sleepy and edible.

Anne Geddes eat your heart out

I'm a little concerned that by the time I actually see this sweet muffin face that I will just keel over. Upon request, my mom has been feeding me photos just like this and the anticipation of seeing this edible honey in real life, well, it's going to be a big moment.

Likely, for me alone.

Unless Lola has a blog littered with photos of me.

You never know.