Don’t you love it when you buy a new pair of jeans and think you got a great deal on them, and then a month later they show up on Gilt for a fraction of what you paid???

Grrr.

losingweightinthecity:

I am RIDICULOUSLY hard on myself. My former (not old, cause she’s not!) boss used to tell me she didn’t put too much pressure on me, because she know I put more than enough pressure on myself. My parents always said some variation of that while I was in school. (And, um, still.)

My mom and I talked some about this while we were away. I am, indeed, really hard on myself. Why? I know I am capable of so much more. Also, I have some ridiculously talented/awe-inspiring friends/mentors/colleagues/family members. I chalked my mom’s admonition up to just that, a mother’s admonition that I was too hard on myself.

Until tonight, when Joel said he felt a sense of urgency in me. I had a feeling I knew what he was getting at, but I asked him anyway. “Your blog, your running, your trying to find a new job…you put a lot on your plate [no pun intended],” he said.

And it’s true, I do. I’m constantly thinking about how to better myself, which is healthy, but perhaps I fixate on being perfect. The perfect job. The perfect apt (okay, mine’s pretty damn close!). The perfect body (also getting pretty damn close!). The perfect boyfriend (nowhere close.) Being completely organized. Being totally in control of my finances. Coming up with great ideas for the Junior League committee I’m a vice-chair of. Keeping up with friendships — both old ones and new ones I’m cultivating. I do have a hard time relaxing with all of this constantly on my mind.

It’s okay…

…that I’m still single.

…that this blog hasn’t landed me a book deal (yet!)

…that I haven’t blogged myself to my ideal job yet.

…that I’m not sure what my ideal job is yet.

…that I still have some fat on my stomach.

…that I don’t have a lot of money saved (cause I have some saved, and I do have a 401k, which is way more than I can say for some people my age.)

…that my job isn’t my ideal job. (At least I have a job.)

…that I’m not making as much money as some of my friends (see: At least I have a job/college education/ambition.)

…that I’m not at the stage in my career I thought I’d be by now.

…that I’m still kinda disorganized sometimes.

…that I signed up for three half-marathons before the one that I WILL RUN in January.

…that I totally miss a lot of pop culture references because I don’t watch a ton of TV.

…that my dog isn’t well-behaved enough to bring in stores (but damn, is he cute!)

…that sometimes I am forgetful.

…that I’m not the greatest cook in the world.

…that my Tumblarity is half what it was this time last week. (WTF?!)

…that I have a hard time planning meals in advance and spend $10.25 a few times a week on some brown rice, bison meatballs, guacamole and some vegetables.

…that the Starbucks baristas know me, if not by name, by order.

…that I don’t have all the answers yet. (BECAUSE I’M 26. I do forget this sometimes :))

Because hey, that’s just who I am. And I’m working on the stuff I’m not happy with that’s within my control. And I know it won’t all come at once. And really, that would be kinda overwhelming anyway. But most of all, I’m working on just enjoying life. And tonight that means some 30 Rock and The Office and stepping away from my dashboard.

 What she said…

I had a dream last night that revolved around a pair of bright yellow crocodile stiletto booties.  I woke up on a missionto find these booties, but like most of the fabulous shoes I dream about, this is proving to be no easy task.  The shoes in my dream were sort of a combination of:

 and these:

If anyone comes across the love-child of these two shoes, please call me ASAP!!

Isaac’s first birthday party was Saturday - he had a blast!  It was a puppy theme since “pup pup” was his first word.

Springfield News-Leader article on Sunday’s marathon and half marathon

As my brother-in-law were walking to the starting line, we passed two men warming up.  We looked at each other, laughed, and said that they were obviously running the marathon and that those were the two guys who were going to win it.  I was not at all surprised when I was being passed at mile 7 by one of them (already past his halfway point in the marathon) and the other one a few minutes later.  They took first and second, with the first place runner finishing the full marathon with a time of 2:25:03.

I made it home after the race in time to watch the NYC marathon on TV.  I cannot fathom running just 1 mile at a 5 minute pace, let alone 26 consecutive miles that fast.  I don’t know whether to be inspired or to just give up! But then again, my reasons for running are not to win a race. I’m not that deluded.  I’ll be content to keep plodding along at my slow and steady pace.

What a roller-coaster weekend! Friday morning I woke up feeling sick and felt worse as the day progressed.  I was a little congested and had a sore throat.  I had a hard time sleeping because of it Friday night, so first thing Saturday morning I went to urgent care thinking I had a sinus infection and that the doctor could give me a powerful decongestant to keep me clear for Sunday’s half marathon.  Bad news: I have strep.  The doctor told me I could not run Sunday morning.  I politely told her I didn’t care if I had strep; I was going to run anyway.  She said I would never finish.  I said she didn’t know me very well.

I called my mom, who told me I shouldn’t run.  I cried, and then we I agreed that I would just take it easy but still run.  I took my first dose of antibiotics, which wiped me out and made me a little woozy.  It didn’t take long to decide that the antibiotics would have to wait until Sunday afternoon.  Saturday was pretty low-key: Isaac’s birthday party, where I had to pretend to be well while not making contact with the babies (don’t worry - the doc said it was only contagious through sharing food or drinks), picking up my registration packet, curling up on the couch to watch a movie, and having some homemade chicken noodle soup my mom brought over.

Saturday night I woke up every hour or so all night long, afraid that I hadn’t set my clocks back or that I would sleep through the alarm.  I finally got up at 5, took a shower to wake myself up and try to clear my sinuses, hopped in the car with my brother-in-law, and headed to Bass Pro.

It was a beautiful day with absolutely perfect weather.  I fell into my stride almost immediately, feeling comfortable at my goal pace for the first 7 miles or so.  When I got to mile 8, I started to feel tired.  I pushed through it and was surprised when my Nike+ said I had just 3 miles to go.  The first 6 mile markers had been spot on with my Nike+, so I just lost track of time and trusted it to be right because there were no mile markers between 6 and 10 when we were on the trail.  I was pretty impressed with myself, but my trust later proved to be misplaced when my ipod told me I had 400 meters to go as I passed the 11 mile marker. Disappointing.

I kept going, but I could feel myself slowing down.  Way down.  When I got to mile 12, I had absolutely nothing left to give.  I felt like I should curl up on the sidewalk and wait for one of those bicycle EMTs to find me.  I have no idea what my pace was for the last mile, and quite frankly, I don’t want to know.  The volunteers along the course were much closer together for the last mile, and they were so encouraging.  I kept going, made it to the back of Bass Pro, and gave it everything I had around the building and down the chute to the finish line.  My mom, sister, and some friends who had finished before me were cheering me on.  LDC snapped a couple of fuzzy pictures. (I looked beautiful, I know…)  My pace was 13 minutes over what I expected, and even more over what I had hoped for on a perfect day.  My right knee is swollen and sore, my left foot is black and blue, and I have mysterious bruises on my right arm and chest.  Totally worth it.

Mom drove me home, I showered, ate a peanut butter sandwich, and crashed on the couch.  I paid (and am still paying) the price for not following the doctor’s orders, but it was my first half marathon and I had been planning on it for months.  I had to go.  But the next time I come down with strep the day before a half marathon, I’ll stay home in bed.

Oh, yeah.  And my mom is making me a carb-filled meal tonight!  Time to load up on spaghetti and garlic bread, guilt-free.

Thanks to the torrential downpours last night and a very annoying sump pump whose location is still a mystery to me, I couldn’t sleep last night.  Sunday’s half marathon kept running through my mind (no pun intended), and I decided to plan my strategy for the race.

The first two miles will be intentionally slow so as to not waste energy that I’ll need when I get to the double digits.  I’ll skip mile 1 water station, but starting at mile 2 I will take a couple of gulps at every mile marker, which is exactly what I do on my long runs now, only this time I won’t have to carry a Nalgene bottle the whole time.

At mile 3, I’ll hit my stride and decide to keep going.  (I always hate the first couple of miles and try to talk myself out of ever running again.)  If all goes according to plan (and history), I’ll allow myself to kick up the pace a notch or two.  By mile 7, I’ll be on a runner’s high and asking myself why I don’t run every free moment of every day. 

By mile 10, I’ll be tired.  Exhausted, actually.  That’s when I’ll start to visualize last night’s run in the rain.  Normally I’m more of a jogger, but last night I freaking ran the whole time, especially when the lightning started crashing all around me right when I reached the halfway point.

At mile 12, I’ll muster everything I have, tell myself that I can endure anything for just a few more minutes, and kick up the pace again.  And when my Nike+ tells me I have 400 meters to go, I’ll conjure up my high school track coach Talley’s voice telling me that her old ass better not beat me back to the school, and I’ll sprint (okay, jog as quickly as my legs will allow at this point) the last quarter-mile.

So, that’s the plan, provided I have a carbon copy of my long run from three weeks ago - perfect temperature, no knee pain, am well hydrated and well-rested (Daylight Savings Time is a bonus!), etc.  Wish me luck!

kari-shma:

“Warm Coat” Fine Art Print by bobbymcleod [2479939-2] - RedBubble