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.

morning run

The early morning air is cool on my skin, yet I feel nothing but warmth and the rhythmic thud of my heart. Darkness erases my steps as I make my way through the familiar neighborhood. It has been months since I passed this way, and it may be months until I pass this way again. 

There are seven of us this morning. We move between laughter and silence, jostling for position in a jagged string. Mostly, it seems everyone is enjoying the stillness of the air.

My heartbeat fills my senses as my feet glide silently along uneven ground.

Uphill, downhill, front to back, I run.

I try not to think of the things that keep me awake at night, or of the mountain of work awaiting me. 

I am happy that I finally get to join the others; I've been missing Tuesday and Wednesday morning workouts because of needing to be at the hospital so early.

But that rotation is over.

So now, at least for today, I am able to run.

I press on, faster. 

My heartbeat is lodged in my ears, a constant reminder of living.

The darkness makes no sign of lifting. 

I can see that fall already has an early grasp on the park and the tell-tale signs of colored leaves and cooler weather is more than an empty promise.

For a moment, I long for the smell of decaying leaves.

Then I remember what comes after fall.

I do another front to back

(because I like repeating myself)

and am grateful that I do not have to change my pace.

This morning's run is calm. 

At least, it is on the outside.

My insides are screaming and I fear that everything will fall apart if I stop.

I press onward in a vain effort to outrun my insides.