350, and duathalon news

This is my 350th post, which I feel should be special, but it's not likely.

Instead, I will express my deepest gratitude when we discovered that the scheduled duathalon on Sunday can be done relay-style. I haven't felt that joyous inside for a long time.

You see, I'd been training pretty diligently, still wasn't up to running 2 miles, and feeling like I wanted to back out, but couldn't because I've already written two columns about racing, and committed to a bunch of people.

Uh-huh, pride.

And this morning I was stressing out because I still didn't have a bike, I haven't ridden a bike in YEARS, the guy at the bike shop made it sound so incredibly complicated, I realized I needed a helmet too, and it was all kind of expensive. I told my friend Emily, who's doing the whole thing with us, that it wasn't the physical part that worried me, it was the logistics.

I would be the one who'd be worried about where to park the bike I didn't have over if my legs could carry me the last 1.6 miles.

Organizational freak.

So Lauren and I were discussing how we still didn't have a bike (as we have been for the past two weeks) when our office lady said she has a brand new road bike we could borrow. Lauren looked at each other like, "Haven't we been discussing this for two weeks?" but we graciously accepted. I'm picking up the bike tomorrow and will begin practicing.

The plan is for Lauren to run the first 1.6 miles, I'll bike the 10, and Lauren will finish up with the 1.6. She was worried about the biking, I was worried about the running, so it's a good deal.

I think.

Like I said, I haven't been on a bike in way too long.

I'm a little worried that this lowers my coolness factor among the ranks. I won't be a full duathlete. BUT, as Lauren pointed out numerous times today, we both still get our own goodie bags, which comes with a t-shirt and massage. And maybe a commemorative cup.

So. To summarize, I'm doing this for myself and for all the other women out there who've never done this before, but somehow think in 4 days, they can be ready for a 10-mile bike ride.

We soooooo got this.

the last weekend in February

We bake-saled.

We smiled.

We played.

We napped.

We cooked, we baseball-practiced, we edited, we life-planned, we PS3'ed, we photographed, we shopped, we ate, we tattooed, we bossed, we cleaned, we opened the doors and windows, we talked, we missed, we lived.

green spring

There's something comforting about spring, something about it that just makes everything feel better.

domestic me, innovative me

An author suggested that with today's "modern kitchen tools," baking bread isn't as difficult as it sounds, which makes me think:

"I don't use 'modern kitchen tools' (unless you're referring to a wooden spoon and a stainless steel mixing bowl) and it's still not as difficult as you think."

I'm not sure what it says about me that I look forward to going home and baking up two batches of white bread, and spending 4 hours doing it.

But there's just nothing quite as satisfying as this at 11:30 at night:


And then, my kitchen prowess went south this morning when I broke our coffee pot (!!!), and had to catch the black liquid in a bowl:


Then I realized there's a black lever that the coffee pot presses against to release the coffee, and so I stood there with a butter knife pressed against the lever until the coffee was brewed. Talk about a time waster in an already-pressed-for-time morning.

THEN, I couldn't even drink the coffee because a) it was terrible, and b) it had grounds in it.

I think I should just stick to baking bread.

imprinting my heart in the pavement

I left my office today for lunch. And I found a park with a walk/run trail, and I ran.

To think I sought this venture with the intent to clear my cluttered mind is astounding to me. Somehow, today, I needed to feel the fire in my lungs, and hear the pounding of my feet on the pavement. I needed to concentrate on the rhythm of my breathing instead of the irregularity of my recent emotions.

Perhaps also, I needed to punish myself, and the best way I know how right now is to subject myself to hyperventilating on a sidewalk in pursuit of my recent ambition.

Whatever the case, I ran outside today in perfect weather, as opposed to the other time I tried to jog outside.

It's probably no surprise to you that while I focused on putting one foot in front of the other at a fast pace, I was reflecting on life, my life, and the actual race coming up in 12 days.

This is where running took a philosophical turn for me.

I could see my brother, Daniel, supporting me, only he couldn't actually run this race with me because it's women only. So I thought that perhaps he could run alongside the race path next to me.

But then quickly I realized this race is mine, and I'll run it alone.

That's not a realization I want.

The person I want beside me, can't be.
He's a boy; I'm a girl.

There's a canyon between what I want and what I can't have.
Dramatic, perhaps, but true.

It's tough to realize that it's my own two legs that'll have to carry me.
I guess it'll make me one Tough Cookie.

The voices in my head were quieted some.
I couldn't hear them over the pounding of my heart on the asphalt.

March 6th is my race date, my do-or-die date, my it's-all-on-the-line-and-up-to-me date.

In the meantime, I'll keep running this marathon called Life, my do-or-die, it's-all-on-the-line-and-up-to-me beautiful life.

a cowgirl's door holder

it might be worthy to note...

As of today, my mom and I have lost 50 pounds each.

FIFTY pounds!!

Who'd have thought?