Post

So I'm all "running with my sister is the best thing ever! I'm gonna do this every day!!"

And then Christmas happened.

My Christmas, full of children's laughter, a tree that threatens to fall over, friends dropping by to spend the day (and also fixing my brother in law's brakes(!)), making new friends, fixing and eating amazing food, flew by in a blur so fast I almost missed it.

My sister and nieces and I managed to get in a short walk Christmas night after everyone left. Starry and quiet, the girls ran ahead of us on the sidewalk, marveling at lights in their neighbors' yards as my sister and I concocted our next moves, enjoying the cool night air.

What came out of that walk should be fun.

This 30/30 thing could be amazing!

We walked around the Getty Villa yesterday, and all I can say is WOW. The collection of Greek and roman art is amazing!!

Also: I could live there. I mean, really. In fact, why hasn't the porter brought my bags up yet?

And then there was shopping.

Which was out of control. 

My sister played human Barbie with me, which resulted in getting stuck in a zillion designer dresses and wearing things I would never put on because they are a zillion dollars (who wears $2000 dresses?!) and I would be afraid of spilling red wine on them. 

Then again, I am in LA, so I wouldn't have to eat, so there's that.

Trying on zillions of dresses is a workout!

A workout with punishment of literally getting zipped up in the dress if you are not just the right size.

Sister time!

Gah! I can't believe I was here 4 days before my sister and I ran together!

But we did run. And it was awesome.

I've missed it (and her) SO much!

Yesterday we ran, bumping elbows until our bodies became used to the other's presence. It was as though we were drawn together, out of missing each other, or needing physical contact.

It was one of my favorite runs. Ever.

Not because we were consistently on the verge of getting lost, not because we may or may not have stolen plucked a lemon from someone's tree and spent blocks laughing about stuffing it down out shirts. (Namely how hilarious it would look jutting out from my excuse for tits.)

It was my favorite run because it was just my sister and I. No crying kids or barking dogs. No phones or excuses. My real sister. Not the one who is always keeping her family together, smoothing wrinkles, making it all OK, (she is really good at all of these things. Sometimes annoyingly so), but the real one. The wickedly funny, irreverent, loving, smart, kind, thoughtful, warm sister that I know and love.

With every step, even as our breathing became labored, it was amazing to watch her breathe. To let go of thoughts of how she thought she "should" be and just be. 

Seeing that allowed me to breathe, too. 

This morning, when we snuck out for a run, my little sister appeared, excited and nervous at the same time. As we ran up and down streets in the early morning light, laughing (because that is what we do), telling stories, sharing memories, I was reminded a jillion times over how amazing she is as a sister, a mother, friend and all around awesome human being. (I'm sure she's great at other stuff, too, (like daughter and wife), but I know nothing of these.) And, yes, you totally want to know her.

In a few days she will have a birthday. And like a fine wine....

I hope she knows how amazing she is.

Even if she does bump my elbow.

30/30, v.2

Did I mention that yesterday was one of those days where things don't exactly go as planned?

No?

Yeah, well...

My sister and I had planned on going to the gym, then doing some shopping... 

9 a.m. found us at the walk-in clinic with her oldest, who spent the entire night coughing. (Poor girl has bronchitis.) We made an appointment for my brother- in- in law, who has a man cold. And then... And then.... And then it was noon before I got the run in.


But I did run.
And it was glorious. Perfect weather. 
Actually, it was a bit like running in Florida. But drier.
As I was running down perfectly manicured sidewalks (take note, Atlanta! They were perfect. No breaking of faces here; people pay too much for them to risk it, I guess), I was whacked in the face with... 
wait for it...
a lime. 
Seriously?!?
This place is nuts.


So I'm having this great run, and then I look down at my watch.
And realize I'm running along at my 5k race pace.
WTF?
Could all of my runs be like this? Please?!




Aaand then I got lost. On an out and back route. 'Cause I'm smart like that.
...Yeah.
I can't remember what my sister's house number is and everything looks the same. 
The. 
Exact. 
Same.
And yet so completely different from anything east coast.
I kept thinking I'd see her car, something that stood out.... And then I'd get lost staring at palm trees, dodging lime trees, and wondering if that white iron fence was before or after her house. Or was it that other white iron fence that I'm looking for?


Love, Dumbass.
(A.K.A. Yours Truly)

30/30

Yarrg.

Like I am a pirate. Yarrg.

Me has no posts since, like, forever.

But then, life kicked me in the ass. 
Hard. 

I will spare you the details and say I've been under a rock.


School ended (thankfully!!) and I've been a busy bee all week.
My best friend came in town from Baltimore this past week (awesome!) and I (as of Monday morning) am in L.A. visiting my sister!!!!! 
Things are looking up.


So, L.A. for 10 days. 
Which means no boot camp for 10 days.
I decided last week that I need to put more energy into my running, and more miles on my feet. Happily, boot camp has led to faster leg turnover with less energy.
I spoke with someone at the Georgia Marathon pace run Saturday who is doing 30 in 30. That is, he plans on exercising 30 minutes a day for 30 days in January. (He has one free day.)
Word on the street is that b.c. will only be two days a week at Piedmont next month. Which leaves lots of room for running. So this 30/30 thing may be just the answer to re-energize my exercise routine. 


I am quasi- test driving this idea in L.A. with lots of walking today.
Walking around the Getty Museum.
Dying!!

Seriously, can I exercise every day for 30 days? 

Somebody please kick me out of bed.

I lay in bed this morning for a full 30 minutes, trying to convince myself that I should get up. 

That I could get up. 

That I would get up. 

And I would run. 

That was really the hard part. 'Cause had you asked me to get up for coffee, I'd have been on it like white on rice. And once I was out the door, it was a glorious run.

So why is it so bloody hard to get out of my very comfy, warm bed when it is followed with the thought of running? Why can't I just get out of bed, head toward the coffee maker, and just before hitting the magic button, yell, "Fooled ya!", thus scaring the crap out of myself. With my heart racing, I could claim to be awake enough to run. Or at least too awake to go back to sleep.

So, I'm thinking I need an elf. They're quite wee, from my understanding. Which, of course, means they eat and shit less. It could live behind the coffee maker, and jump out at me first thing in the morning, scaring me so badly that I'd have to go for a run to calm down. Presuming I don't pee myself after having an elf jump out at me.

Are real elves as big as Elf On A Shelf? Or do real elves use doll house furniture? Would an Elf On A Shelf with a motion detector be able to tell me to go for a run? 'Cause they're kinda creepy. That may be cheaper than trying to sort through the immigration papers of elves. Particularly because, like small ankle- biting dogs, I imagine elves are loud and needy. Especially with things like food. And fair wages.

California

I can not fully express my excitement or gratitude right now.

I am ridiculously excited because...

drum roll please...

I'm going to Cali to visit my sister!!!!!!!

Insert Temple of Doom heart removal scene in reverse. As in, the heart goes back in. 

It is then filled with joy. No, not the soap. The emotion is more viscous- at least in my mind.

So I was talking to someone the other day about how I constantly have these odd fantasies of alternate realities. For example, when I'm in a crowded place and frustrated about it, I love imagining everyone doing the dance to Thriller. I also have these Ally Mcbeal moments where I imagine something totally inappropriate/ impossible....

But I digress....

I'm going to Calli!!!!

I'm gonna run in the sun and put my arms around the necks of my nieces. I'm so excited I could pee. 

But you know I won't. 'Cause that would just be awkward. 
Plus, I'd have to clean it up, and I am too tired. (How's that for lazy?)

So now "all" I have to do is get through this semester.

Then... and I totes forgot to mention this awesomeness.... have fun with my best friend when she comes to town to get her fancy paper (AKA PhD). There will be running, eating, laughter, and beer, guaranteed.


And then.... 
California!!!!!


Did I mention that I'm excited?'Cause I think maybe I am.
Just a little.


So this is maybe not the Thanksgiving post you were expecting. It's not exactly the one I was expecting to write. I was thinking I'd mention something about how I am thankful for the opportunity to wake my sorry ass up before the crack of dawn to face a punishing workout in the freezing cold. Only it's not freezing cold. Yet. I thought about how I'd say I had to run uphill, both ways, in the snow, to get to boot camp (except that's a bold faced lie, which I hear is not nice). I thought about how I'd write about how thankful I am for my health, for the ability to run, and for sunrise.


Instead, you get
CALIFORNIA!!!!!!!!!!!
(Insert Pauly Shore laying on his belly, swimming freestyle in the dirt.) 

Long Run Ready?

Coach Sadist tried to kill us. 

Again.

Part of the fun of being an instructor is that I get a little intel on everything. And this morning when Coach Sadist said, "Oh, yeah, don't worry, this won't be very hilly; we just have that one little hill where I'll make them do front to backs...", I foolishly believed him.

Normally, I like hills. 

This week has not been normal, though. I'm not sure what normal is anymore. Does it exist? I'm not referring to the nursing school ideology of needing to be more descriptive than "normal", but more of familiarity. Nothing is familiar or constant right now. And if I slow down long enough to admit it, this new territory is really hard.

So I fall back on what I know; I work out more and harder; this physical pain is easier to deal with than the emotional. And I'm feeling the pain big time today. Normally I take a day off over the weekend. Not this week! We had a special boot camp Saturday morning and then TRX Sunday... Coach Awesome killed herself, Other New Super Sweet (But Don't Call Her that 'Cause She'll Kick Your Ass) Coach Whose Name I Haven't Concocted Yet, and me with that class! 

(We were feeling especially awesome this morning...)

So I was supposed to do a long run today.... My favorite workout.

I was supposed to bring reflective/ light up stuff to wear ('cause, you know, wearing black in the wee hours is oh so sexy safe!). And I was supposed to do something else that I totally forgot (and am forgetting again as I write this!). 

This having to function in the early hours business is tough!!

So after no days off, plus some stupid hard workouts, I believed Coach Sadist when he said no hills.

What I didn't realize is that he has hill-dar. He can't help it; if there is a hill in a five mile radius, he will find it. 

And make us run it. 

On repeat.

Excuse me while I go die.

Brain fry

Hello, friends.

It has been a minute. I think my brain rolled off my head, onto the floor and right out the door. Yes, like the  meatball.

Remember this?

My drug of choice: nursing school.

Seriously. 

Papers, tests, clinical hours, reading.... I can't finish all the reading. There aren't enough hours. Don't get me wrong, it is awesome. Especially since I've seen some very cool things in the hospital: a patient with an LVAD (a mechanical pump for his heart); I took care of a guy who the nursing team in the ICU didn't think would make it through the night (and saw him leave two weeks later!); I started my first IV and foley; I saw a pacemaker put in (the patient was awake and making jokes)... This rotation has been so amazing. 

Except for last night.

I won't talk about what happened in the ER last night.

Mostly because it resembled a certain scene from The Exorcist.

So maybe it was amazing in its own way.

But seriously.

I've been too busy to think about how badly my body hurts to even think about whining about it on a blog. Also? I have no brain cells left. (see fried egg picture above.)

But it does hurt.

Especially after yesterday. 

Who knew I could kick my own ass by sprinting??

Also, crying about how broken I am while I'm supposed to be encouraging others seems... wrong.

Except for today.

Today I am crying on the inside because my hammies hurt. Like can't walk (never mind run, which is what I wanted to do today) kind of hurt.

Someone pass me a box of Kleenex, please.

I made a list. It has no end.

I had this conversation this morning:

Quit being so paranoid.

Me: I'm not being paranoid.

Yes, you are.

Me: No, I'm not. 

Yes.

Me: Aaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuggggghhh! 

At least, that's what I wanted to say.

Instead: sigh.

I am not being paranoid. 

I am stressing the fuck out.

Yeah. OK. Boxes to pack, tests to take, papers to write, presentation to create, clinical to prepare for, work... 

Nope. Nothing going on here.

And, by the way, where, exactly, am I moving?

Oh, yes. Right.

Nope. Not paranoid. Just stressed.

Definitely stressed.

Barf. 

I hate that I can't focus on, say, the test I'm taking tomorrow because the number of things coming at me is making it hard to breathe. 

I've been lulled into stagnation/ crippled by a fear I can not describe.

I didn't know I had anxiety until this.

Last night: Yeah. I'll get up and rock the psychiatric meds list after boot camp. Then I'll make sure everything is in line for my policy journal. I won't need a nap; I'm going to bed early.

When I woke up at 3, I was ready. 

At 5, not so much. Which just makes me wonder:

What happened?

How could so much have changed in two hours?

Also? Why the fuck didn't I just get out of bed?

So now I'm procrastinating. 

Because that always helps with making the to-do list shorter.

I feel like my friend K, whose favorite way of eliminating the things on her to-do list is by losing it.

Only I can't seem to lose the damn list.

Big Week!

Wow.

Last week flew by.

I was going to post daily about how much I hurt, and life is so tough, and more dudes need to come top boot camp, meh, meh, meh.

Instead I did some awesome stuff at the hospital

(Awesome like start my first IV. It was more awesome that the lady had never had anyone get her vein on the first go and now she can't say that anymore. (Poor lady!)),

went to work,

went to school,

AND....

 was asked to be a boot camp instructor!

I am so excited I could pee.

So, yeah, just when I was going to post that I desperately need more dudes to come to camp because the girls at the front of the crazy train need faster people with so we'll be encouraged to run faster, four show up! 

I am super excited!

I love when new people come to camp.

It only takes one look at their faces to know what they're thinking. And to remind me of where I started, and how far I've come.

Except for the throw up part. 

I know what that feels like (hello, crew practice!), but am not used to the way it looks. 

So yeah. We made someone puke. 

And I think I saw another cry.

I'm all "it's OK" and giving back pats to the guy. 

Meanwhile, Coach Awesome is all "Yes! My job here is done! Seriously, you've made my day".

That sounds like a ringing endorsement for boot camp, right?

(hears crickets)

Please join me as I embark on this new adventure as a boot camp coach.

No worries, I'll still serve snark with a side of smart ass.

Just with a whole new perspective.

Monday is the devil.

You don't need to tell me it's Monday; I can feel it in every ounce of my being.

It totally doesn't help that the refrain "I don't like Mondays" is stuck in my head...

And you know that when you wake up with that "Oh- crap- it's Monday- and- I- actually- have- to- get- up- and- be productive" feeling that it's gonna be a rough ride...

And this morning's workout was  bit of a devil.

No, seriously.

"Escape from devil's basement" was its name.

It focused on killing me.

"I'm not dead yet! I think I'll go for a walk now..." was all I could think.

-That's from the Holy Grail, not my thoughts after R said she wanted to go run after the workout last Thursday. Crazy.

Today was one of those "I must be crazy to do this" kind of days.

Not crazy like 'I think I'll get a Brazilian wax", but more like "I think I'll get another Brazilian wax"- you know what you're in for, yet do it anyway kind of crazy.

I had lunch with my family yesterday. As sometimes happens with families, we started telling stories about childhood. My grandmother and her sister told stories about my mom and aunt. They were mostly about my mom, who could find trouble just by breathing. 

Like when she, as a toddler, shimmied up a laundry pole (the kind with 6 arms coming from the center) and was standing on top of the pole while a neighbor watched in horror as she took a step out onto the line. Somehow the neighbor lady caught her just as she fell. 

Or how the state patrol knocked on the door and asked my grandmother if she had a daughter."Why yes, I do. She's playing in the back yard" she replied. "You might wanna check that fence" he said. Turns out  the police officer found her playing on the expressway. She had crawled between and over the fences (there were two).

I guess what I'm saying is, crazy runs in my family.

Don't get me wrong. It starts out innocently enough.

Like when my cousin (as a toddler) rode on the outside of a three story escalator. It was in the mall, back when they had fountains inside. My aunt discovered cousin #1 was trying to eat a squirrel tail (what can I say? We are classy,klassy, with a "K".), turned around and saw cousin #2 going up the escalator. She ran across the fountain (as in, got soaking wet) and managed to grab her ankle just before she was out of reach. Crowds of people cheered and clapped. Having rescued cousin #2, she turned her attention back to cousin #1. (It was one of those days.)

Cousin #1 interjected here:

"I found a dead squirrel in the back yard. It was back when Papa and Uncle Johnny were sick. Mom and Dad wanted to teach me about death. So Dad and I buried the squirrel, said some words, and I remember Dad telling me not to dig it up...

But the next day I really wanted to know how he was doing.

And we were fixing to go to the mall, and I remember Mom calling me as I was trying to check on the squirrel. I was digging, and found the tail... I pulled on the tail.. And it broke off! I put it in my purse. I knew I had to hide it because I'd get in trouble...

I had one of those push- up pops, you know? I put the lid back on it and stuck it in my purse."

My aunt continued:

 "But it melted. She pulled that sticky mess out of her purse, with a squirrel tail attached to it, and was trying to eat it... And then there goes child #2 up the escalator!"

One of those days.

So my stomach hurts from laughing yesterday, and my thighs are screaming from this morning and all I can think is that I am so screwed today.

And tomorrow, for that matter.

I just hope today doesn't involve squirrel flavored push pops.

new perspectives

I ran with a friend I haven't run with in for-ev-or yesterday.

What can I say? 

I was feeling like I had to step it up after R. went running after boot camp.

So I pretended like I was in high school (or still on my college crew team) and went for the two a day.

Aside from the momentary 

"where the hell are we?"/ "I think we have to go that way..." incidents,

it was a quiet run down streets I don't usually run on, though they are just a block or so away from ones I do usually run on. 

Which provides reason # three hundered zillion why I love running: new perspectives.

Only a block away from me: new houses, old houses; people wandering the street, lost; 

a runner, looking comfortable; lots of cars parked on the street; 

a car speeding (and I mean oh-my-I- thought-I was- gonna-get- run-over- by-sound fast), 

trash; dogs barking behind fences.

We covered five miles before I realized it.

I was hoping for a new perspective this morning when I rolled over, dizzy.

Not the perspective I was looking for!

I wanted to know how I'd feel after working out the morning after running the previous night.

I guess that one will have to wait. 

It feels God-awful.

I went back to bed.

Once this head fog dissapaites, I look forward to checking out more of my hood. 

I'm laughing at myself because I've lived here for over 10 years & am still discovering new things.

But I suppose this is a good thing, ya know?

Bring a Friend Day- October

ooooooooooohhhhhhh-kaaaaaayyyyy.

(insert collective group sigh.)

After getting my tookus beat in boot camp, my mind absolutely blown in school and my emotional self shoved through a meat grinder in the last few, I am ready for a break.

That break hasn't come yet, though.

(Evidently we don't all always get what we wish for.)

Le Sigh.

Oh, nooooo!

I'm so out of it I TOTALLY forgot to mention that today was bring a friend day!

I am officially The Best Blogger. Ever.

Not.

The thing is, I actually was lucky enough to have a friend join me! 

She is tough as nails. (As in, just finished a 100 mile race tough.) She is smart, funny, doesn't take crap from anyone, and has great hair. Even at 5:30 in the morning.

I kind of hate her.

Anyhow, today we went suicidal.

As in, we did suicides.

A lot of 'em.

It was kind of like the field days I had in elementary school. 

Four teams, three stations... 

had we known we could have worn color coordinated outfits!

Not that anyone can see (anything!) in the pre-dawn light, but you know...

a girl can try.

So we rocked push ups, sit ups, sprinting (over very short distances- it was way hard! Every time I got my stride, I had to sit down to do some exercise (grrrr!)), mountain climbers, burpees, other crap...

And more crap fun stuff while we waited for our team members to take their turn.

Every morning, someone says something that is so silly, ya have to laugh. 

 Monday (or was it Tuesday?) we had a conversation related to what our moms called boobs.

2 fried eggs in a handkerchief, golf ball in a sock... 

(Are you laughing hysterically or crying and threatening to burn your eyeballs at these descriptions?)

Today, after workout, my friend said something funny.

But not in a ha-ha kind of way.

She said, "Yeah, OK, that was fun, but I'm cold. So I'm gonna go run."

"But waaait! We just did!" I wanted to scream.

There have been maybe three days where I thought at the end of the workout that I'd like to go for a run.

(Not to worry, it goes away as soon as I sit down!)

The thing is, she totally did go run.

I kind of really hate her.

But I am really glad she joined me.

Soap-frigging-box

My hamstrings have been in a murderous rage for days now.

Days.

And everyday I wake up thinking that they'll be better.

And every day I wake up to find that they want to kill me.

I started wondering if perhaps they did try to kill me and the reason they hurt so badly has to do more with the imagined nightly massacre than anything I could possible so during my waking hours.

Of course that's exactly what's going on. 

Uh-hunh. 

Le sigh.

Boot camp has, once again, kicked my ass. 

hamstrings.

This murderous rage has taken my brain to new levels of soap-boxiness. 

Just ask anyone in my policy class...

Monday my professor asked me to tell the class about how this one town I used to do some work in is based on one's position in a coal company; the higher you are in the company, the higher you live on the mountain. This entire town is between the river (in the valley) and the railroad tracks. As in, ten feet out the front door there is a road and then the river (which the EPA said no one should fish from because of mine drainage, but everyone did), ten feet out the back door are four sets of railroad tracks- which are always busy- and ten feet on either side is the neighbor's house. Not yard. House.

So I'm telling the class about how when I met this one family, they had a toilet (which was tied in to the county line  by an EPA mandate to clean up the river in the late 1990's (it used to run directly into the river)) and a bathtub in their house. The tub emptied under the house. As in, I looked down the drain at the dirt a few feet under the house. The family washed their dishes, clothes, themselves and everything else in the tub. All of their water came from the tub. 

These are taxpaying American citizens with jobs.

And next to no access to health care (which is how it came up in class- is health care a right?).

And I think I started crying somewhere around the memory of looking down the drain, realizing that countless other people in this town lived the same way.

Crying.

Who does that?!

SOAP- FRIGGING- BOX.

Oh my.

(The happy ending to this story is that an awesome volunteer put a kitchen sink in the home. He also tied the bathtub into the black water line so the threat of creepy-crawlies crawling into the house went out with the bathwater.

I will love him forever for that.)

Which begs the question: is health a right?

What about health care?

I know I treasure my health.

I love the dichotomy of working for a company that promotes a healthy lifestyle while being trained in a hospital where I see acutely ill people. I see how the choices we make everyday have a direct effect on health.

Did you know that in Bhutan there is a happiness index?

Supposedly, during his wedding, the king of Bhutan asked a visiting reporter if he was having a good time- and if he was happy. 

The reporter was shocked.

In my policy class, we talk a lot about what people need versus what people deserve.

I need my hamstrings to stop screaming at me every time I move.

I deserve is a kick in the ass for crying about it.

water buffalo

I'm too busy hurting to even bother complaining.

(Now that's just sad.)

Alls I've got is 

Handstands on the TRX.

That's right.

A feat of coordination like none other.

(And you've got to know I have NO coordination- that's why I run, remember?!)

And there were push-ups. 

In a handstand.

The thing with TRX is that it makes me feel like a kid on a playground.

It doesn't help that we actually do it on a playground.

It's maybe the only reason I think I can do any of it at all.

When I was a kid, my half brother would come visit for the summer and one of the things I remember most about those trips is how he used to do push-ups in a handstand, leaning on the door.

I very clearly remember thing that there was 

NO WAY IN HELL I'd ever do one.

And then today I found myself upside down, arms shaking, my face getting closer to the ground. 

The first one was definitely the best. After that, I think I went down maybe about two inches before collapsing.

Coach Awesome made it look so damn easy! 

After I fell over for the third time post push-up, I saw the other boot campers hanging out... on their hands... making it look easy.

I want it to feel that easy.

Instead, I am a water buffalo. Out of water.

No, not like this.

More like this.

On that note, I should call my brother and tell him I did a push up like him.

Not that I'm saying he's a water buffalo, too!

In fact, I think I will call him.

As soon I can get my arms to work.

Dear 5am,

Dear 5 am,

So sorry I missed you!
I was very busy tasting ice cream samples and did not realize you had arrived.
Or that you left just as quickly.

I plan on seeing you tomorrow, though!

xoxo

I overslept.

By 2 hours.

And it was delicious!

Yes, delicious.

Morelli's chocolate ice cream with peanut butter and fudge delicious.
Salted caramel goodness.
Classic cool mint chocolate chip awesomeness.
Coffee with toffee sweetness.

I dream about food, evidently. And last night, it was ice cream.

My dream was so vivid I went to check the freezer and trash can for cartons.

Then I realized that would involve getting up.

All of this basically means I completely missed working out today.
Except that I decided to go for a run so my body wouldn't hate me for not torturing it.

And to work off my dream ice cream spree.

What is this world coming to?! Hate self for self-torture/ hate self for not?

There is no winning.

By the time I had my shoes on, I forgot all about the dream ice cream (which I totally almost called "dream cream") and proceeded to run faster than I probably otherwise would have, thanks to a running partner. Er, I tried to catch up to/ keep up with.

But running faster is supposed to make me faster, right?

I hope so! My 5K time is getting faster!

(Don't hold your breath, people. It's not fast- fast. Just fast-er.)
And I still got my butt kicked.
And I am still sore from last week.
(How??)

Dear 5am,
So, for really-reals, I will see you tomorrow.
Unless, of course, I am held up by curry, kimchi, or squash recipes.
Or ice cream.
xo

What counts as too stupid?

So for whatever reason, my body kindly decided that 3am was the appropriate time to wake up this morning. 

Yeah.

THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING.

Balls.

Who needs sleep?

I was awake from 3 to 10 till 5, when I finally fell asleep.

Finally.

Only I was supposed to be up at 5.

To run. 

Nine miles.

Uh-hunh.

Running buddy #1is all, "hey, you coming, or what?"

Niiiice. I hate being late.

(Thanks, Mom, now I'm neurotic. But that is a story for another day...)

Anyhoo, when we finally made it to our meeting spot, we decided that 9 miles would be down- graded to 6 so that M (a girl so sweet I would have to pinch myself to prove she's real- save for that wicked streak of sarcasm) could get to work on time.

Four of us headed out into the darkness, running together for the first time. 

Actually, it was just my first time. The others have known each other for a minute. 

Within a mile, we were joking and laughing. 

Yay! Fun running! Please don't let me do/ say anything too stupid!

We turned down one street and could hear the train. When we could see the train, it was barely moving.

And then it stopped.

Right in the middle of the intersection.

J: "We could jump it."

M: Uh, no."

Me: "Well, it's not going anywhere."

Two turned around.

"Let's go!"

And with that, I was over the train.

The others quickly joined me.

I've always wanted to jump a train.

Winning!

Um, what was that I said about not doing anything too stupid?

Yo' Mama

Sometimes writing this blog is like a never ending yo' mama joke:

Today's workout was so hard....

blah, blah, blah...

Yeah. It's hard to be me, I know.

But the thing is, today's joke is really good!

Today's workout was so damn hard I fell asleep. 

On the floor.

In public.

Yeah. 

But before you go thinking I've developed some kind of narcolepsy overnight, hear me out.

Directly after this morning's test, I was in the library with some friends trying to regain my senses and kind of fell out of my chair/ dove onto the floor where I preceded to sleep.

For an hour.

I have stooped to new levels of low.

sigh.

Obviously, the joke's on me. 

I mean, who knew stepping up on a chair could be so bloody hard?

Anyhoo, if you need me, I'll be napping.