March of the Pink Zebras

Last Saturday Rockstar came over and we went to The Old Spaghetti Factory to carbo load in prep for the 5K. There's a strong possibility we may have OD'ed on the carbs but it was so delicious, we couldn't stop! We both had salad, spinach and cheese ravioli, two loaves of bread, and spumoni ice cream. Every last bite. Gone. She hadn't eaten all day. Me? I'm just a pig.

I think our server was impressed by our hearty appetite. I tried to make his day by writing "you're cute" on my credit card receipt. Cute in the nervous, little boy way that is. He was just a baby, maybe 19??

We planned on catching a 7:20 showing of Smart People, but when 7:00 rolled around and our ice cream had just arrived, we were in need of a change in plans. Rockstar doesn't get out too much in Minneapolis so it was kind of fun to show her some of the places where I frequently black out hang out.

We first stopped by The Loop and bellied up to the bar for a drink. Then we headed to 508 where I experienced déjà vu. Or downtown is just that small, as three of the guys I met on T.'s birthday were there as well. After we got our first drink and sat down, I recognized none other than, Wheelchair Guy. He was with a group of guy friends (some I recognized) and an attractive blonde chick -- it quickly became clear she was the infamous psychotic girlfriend. Unfortunately for us, she didn't unleash that side of her but maybe it was because we made it a point to sort of steer clear of her man. She was pretty cute for him. It must have been his suave dance moves that got her.

It was fun to run into him and his buddies again. Rockstar immediately went up to him and told him she'd heard about his wheelchair move, but he claimed to be too sober to do it. I later learned "too sober" meant "not allowed to have fun" when he came up to me and apologized for not hanging out and having fun with us due to his girlfriend's presence. How hilarious is that? Even though he couldn't hang with us, we danced with his friends while mocking complete strangers. Can you ask for a better time? I think not.

One of the more interesting parts of the evening was when I was dancing with Wheelchair Guy's buddy and some girl shoved me out of the way and proceeded to take my place in dancing with him. I was taken aback but it wasn't like I was interested in the guy or anything so I merely walked away and told Rockstar about it. Later the guy came back and told me that girl was his sister so I guess she thought it was funny, which more or less, just kinda creeped me out that she was there watching him grind on chicks. If I saw my brothers doing that, I'd be scarred for life.

I also saw Stephen, but keep in mind, I did NOT look hot. Far from it. I hadn't planning on going out. And since I have poison ivy on my neck that looks like a giant hickey, I had a jumbo band-aid covering it up, my hair was in a ponytail so it wouldn't brush up against the rash, and I was wearing tennis shoes...to a downtown bar on Saturday night. I looked so very-not-cute. So even though we walked right by Stephen and his buddy, I wasn't exactly feeling up to saying hello when I looked like a total scrub. And if he saw me, he didn't say anything, probably because he was too frightened by my appearance!

And then there's Jason. He texted me Friday night but I was hanging out with TheGuy and then I guess we both ended up being at 508 at the same time on Saturday but he ended up leaving pretty quickly to go to some birthday celebration at another bar. It was for the better, since I looked awful. There is a slight chance he saw me, took one look at a big band-aid, bad outfit, and hair that looked like shit and ran far, far away. And I would never know because I have no idea what the guy looks like! If I never hear from him again, I'll know why.

In my last post I referenced looking like a lesbian. A dude came up to Rockstar and flat-out asked if she was straight and then wanted to know if her and I were together (we happened to be wearing very similar outfits -- go figure).

Anyway, I learned that even when you look like shit at a bar, you can still have fun.

Even when you have to get up the next day and run a 5K!! The race went well but the temperature was on the chilly side. We all wore pink zebra bandanas which was totally fun so we better have made the pictures this year! At least we weren't wearing pig noses like some runners. We're not that dorky.

Running Goals

Though it's been an excruciatingly slow process, I've gradually begun to rebuild speed and distance with my running. I had a terrific run outside yesterday topping off around four and a half miles that could've extended to the six range, but I didn't want to overdo it. Plus I went to the gym in the evening with TheGuy where I continued to struggle when benching the bar, but at least my arm muscles aren't sore today. I also tackled squatting with the bar but it proved to be just as much of a challenge as I anticipated. My legs still burn. And once again, my horrible form caused me to look like a buffoon.

Short-term Goal: Running of the Pigs Part Deux. Last year RockStar and I participated in this 5K that marked the very first race for both of us. Naturally, there was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. This year, however, I can just relax and enjoy it! We've even recruited several others to join us so it should be a good time. In looking at the website, we were disappointed to notice we didn't make any of the photos so we plan to get noticed this year by sporting pink bandanas. The guys aren't too thrilled about it, but too bad for them.



Mid-term Goal: I'm going to do the Downtown Half which will be my first half marathon. It's an iPod friendly race that takes place right outside my apartment so how can I NOT do it? Plus there will be a lot of dogs there since they're having a couple 5K's where they allow you to run with one or two dogs. Unfortunately, I don't think Brody is up to the challenge. Maybe next year.



Long-Term Goal: I will do Twin Cities Marathon again. If I don't PR, I'll kill myself. Luckily, this is still a long ways off. Because I'm not mentally prepared to really start focusing on this yet.

Recovery

After two weeks away from the gym, I returned last night. It was hell. I could only run at 6.0 on the treadmill, opposed to my average range of 6.5-6.7, and it was a challenge to complete 3 miles. Before my recent illness, I could effortlessly do 6 miles. Yesterday I felt fatigued and winded the entire time, contemplating whether I was doing too much too soon. If it hadn't been for the Thanksgiving break prior to the nine day bug, I would have been in much better shape. But no, I've got to accept it's gonna take some time to fully recuperate.

After the worst workout in history, I bought some new running shoes for a motivation boost. I also picked up a couple pairs of lycra warm-up pants to throw on over my shorts when I leave the gym. My old ones are looking mighty tattered and threadbare these days.

Invisible Sidewalk Crack

I had a near perfect run this morning. It was nice and cool – low 30’s with flurries. So refreshing. Miraculously, I also managed to not flat on my face this time. I inspected the “danger zone” and realized I must be even more of a klutz than I thought because the sidewalk is perfectly flat where I tripped. Did that huge crack I envisioned disappear??

Sorry, I know these are weak posts. Blame NaBloPoMo. I’ll do better next week.

No More White After Labor Day

I've returned from a weekend up north with the parents. Note: I first went to write "'rents" but just couldn't do it. It would've flowed better, but that term is so cheesy.

The weekend got off to a great start. I got up Saturday morning and had the best run of my life. It was about 9 1/2 - 10 miles, but I never tired or slowed. In fact, I picked up speed, which isn't uncommon for me, but I gained a great deal of momentum around the 7 mile mark. And I never felt better. The only thing that stopped me from going further was the fear my parents would send out a search party if I wasn't back in the amount of time I said it would take. I also had to tell them the path I planned on following in case I was attacked by a black bear or something! I swear, they still see me as 12 years old.

The weather was beautiful -- we couldn't have asked for better. Thanks to lazy weekends at the Lifetime pool, I have a wonderful tan this year. I can't remember the last time I was this tan. This past weekend only added to my golden brown base. I spent the majority of it soaking up cancerous, UV rays on the dock and floating on a tube in the water while Brody was busy going after minnows. He began employing a new tactic of standing still, staring down into the water, and then as soon as he sees movement, pounces.

I also finished Something Borrowed and got some writing done so that gave me a sense of accomplishment. My dad and I went fishing and caught some pan fish. I'm a girly-girl, but I LOVE fishing and camping and outdoor activities as well.

Things didn't take a turn for the worse until Sunday night when my mom and I got into it yet again. I don't know what's up with her lately, but she has not been herself. She's been ornery and bitter and hostile to everyone. It was evident all weekend so I finally let it be known Sunday before dinner when she snapped at me and told me to quit asking her stupid questions when I'd only been inquiring about the segway tour she'd taken about a month ago. I told her she'd been mean and condescending all weekend, which she denied and when she asked my dad if he agreed, he told her she'd been "angry." She then refused to eat supper, saying to my dad, "enjoy your daughter" as she pouted upstairs and decided to take off at 7:30 pm to drive the four hours back home.

That was fine by me. I had plans to meet up with TheGuy that evening. Both up north at our cabins, we met in a town that happens to be a twenty-minute drive for both of us, coming from opposite directions. When we made arrangements to meet, I found it amusing that with no cell phone signals, we had to communicate the old-fashioned way, through the LAN line -- no text messaging or caller ID. When he called my cabin, no one was home so he had to leave a message on the answering machine. Then when I returned his call, his mom answered, I had to ask for him, she had to notify him, he picked up, and then we had to wait for his mom to hang up. It most definitely reminded me of junior high when you would call a guy's house and cross your fingers that his mom or dad wouldn't answer the phone. Oh, how times have changed!

TheGuy and I met at an ice cream parlor called Frosty's -- it's sort of legendary up there. It's tradition for my family to go there every trip. We got ice cream (my second one for the day) and walked around the town -- mind you, "town" consists of one block. Then we headed over to a playground we spotted nearby. I was really disappointed there was no tire swing, for I have a reputation for being a good tire swing pusher. However, we swung on the regular swings and he pushed me on another swing that was a circular disk attached to a knotted rope. Never too old for playgrounds, right?

We then crossed back to the other side of this stream and went to the only bar/restaurant in town, Patrick's with a four-leaf clover as the apostrophe in the name. We talked and had a few beers. He had Summit and made fun of my Miller Lite. Yeah, not much of beer drinker, but it seemed appropriate for the venue. Our beers were a whopping $2 each.

I've eaten at Patrick's many a time with my family so it was quite different to be drinking late at night there. That was a first and interesting experience for me. Our bartender was borderline creepy and kept muttering things to himself, or if he was talking to us, we couldn't understand him. For some reason, the last hour we were there, everyone's conversations suddenly came to a halt and they appeared to be eavesdropping on ours. I have no idea why. Perhaps because we were half their age so they thought we might have something intriguing to say? We weren't talking loudly, but somehow our voices were overheard over everyong else in the bar.

At one point, we got into a funny conversation about fru-fru drinks. It began with margaritas and daquiris, but then turned to what you drink when you're 21 and don't know any better -- Boone's Farm, Smirnoff Ice, and Zima with the jolly rancher in the bottom! Apparently, TheGuy never tried it with the jolly rancher. The townie woman next to him butted in, saying, "You guys are making me thirsty for one of those drinks!" Um, yeah, anyway...

My favorite part of the bar was this framed, autographed picture of a snowmobiler with his shirt off. He looked like a fireman posing for one of those calendars, only there was a picture of him mid-air in a snowmobile below his chiseled stomach. It was ridiculous! So damn funny. If I'd had my camera, I definitely would've posted the pic for all to enjoy.

When we left the bar, TheGuy pointed out that there was a dog in the middle of the street. The dog got all excited when he saw us, quickening his pace. He was a mutt of some kind -- possibly chocolate lab and german shepherd?? I worry when I see dogs on their own like that. I can't help but think of their distraught owners. At least, I would be a wreck if my dog went missing. TheGuy tried to assure me the dog wasn't lost, but I guess we'll never know. When I went to pull out from my parking spot, I almost ran over the poor dog!! I knew it was so because I saw TheGuy get out of his car to warn me and then I saw the dog to the side. I felt terrible as I was leaving because the dog continued to follow my car for as long as he could. I am such a sucker when it comes to animals. :( Had the circumstances been different, I probably would have taken him home and posted "found dog" pictures around town.

High School Snot Invading My Territory

Thankfully, I'm not old enough to attend my 10 year high school reunion (haha, suckers), but I share md's sentiments about those years of my life -- former classmates are better off left in the past.

At my high school, the cool guys were "jocks" and cool girls were "preps." I can't imagine the term "prep" in that context is still in use today, but what do I know? I'm fucking ancient. In the popularity hierarchy, there were two rungs so to speak, the "really cool" and the "cool." The latter group consisted of the girls who had "really cool" friends, but they weren't part of that inner circle. They were destined to remain an outsider due to one or more of the following: a.) weren't pretty enough b.) didn't have a big enough rack or c.) got good grades

A year ago I was in the elevator of my apartment, about to leave for work, when it stopped on the 4th floor. Much to my horror, the doors opened to reveal UglyHighSchoolSnot. Shocked, I didn't say a word. And neither did she. Who is UHSS? She's one of those lower-rung, not-pretty-enough chicks. In fact, she suffers from a., b., and c. -- all of the above. While we've never spoken, I have this inner hatred toward her. In elementary school, she happened to befriend the right group of girls so by the time high school rolled around, you could tell by the smug look on her face she thought she was better than everyone else.

Out of ALL the apartments in Minneapolis, why must she occupy mine?!? I've been in my apartment four years now -- seniority should count for something. Why can't she respect that and move to the other side of the river? To make matters worse, she switched units a few months back and now she lives right down the hall.

What irks me the most is I see her on a daily basis! Not only do we leave and arrive home at the same time every day, making for awkward elevator rides, but we pass one another going opposite directions while running across the Stone Arch Bridge. Yesterday I doubled my normal run (13 miles, woo hoo) so she ended up passing me and going in front of me as I hit the halfway point. It was disappointing to realize I couldn't keep up with her pace, but it was a valiant effort on my part -- I can be pretty competitive when I want to be. I kept thinking to myself, I bet she's not doing 13 miles!

Maybe she's actually a very nice person and I will never know, but I associate her as a representation of all the popular preps I'd just as soon forget.

Muggy & Buggy

Ambivalent about whether to work out later or not. I noticed a difference in my arms the tortuous two times I did weights not long ago so maybe I'll do the elliptical and weights today. I did 8 miles outdoors yesterday, but I was disappointed because I was aiming for a 12-miler. Unfortunately, the weather refused to cooperate so I cut the run short -- the last quarter of a mile turned downpour. I assume it was due to the return of the humidity, but there was a plague of little black bugs yesterday. I had bugs in my hair, in my mouth, caught in my mascara, clinging to my tanktop. Every time I looked down, I had to shake off two or three bugs stuck in the thread of my shirt. If that weren't enough of a distraction, my stride was off since I failed to resist checking out every biker that passed me by in case it happened to be MJ. It creeps me out to know he sees me and I don't see him. At least I know he doesn't sport a spandex unitard -- yes, my friend inquired.

So the real reason I want to skip the gym today is so I can return a pair of jeans I bought a couple weeks ago. Standing before the dressing room mirror, I recall how flattering the jeans were, accentuating just the right places, and how I was loving the dark denim and yellow stitching. I tried on the jeans Saturday night, thinking it would be the perfect time to break them in, only to be horrified by the reflection staring back at me. Clearly, something drastic happened between the store and my apartment -- as if the length and flare of the jeans shrunk by two inches! How does this happen?!? At the time of purchase, I was of sober state of mind. Must be trick mirrors in department stores. Never been so anxious to return an article of clothing in my life.

Double Digits

Pretty sure I hit double digits last night in cocktails. My friend’s co-workers had a work outing and they partied it up downtown so she invited me to go out with them. We started at The Imperial Room and spent the rest of the night dancing at Rosen’s. Her co-workers were really fun and the guys were great dancers (far from your stereotypical white boy dance moves) so that made for great entertainment.

Random shit found in pocket next morning:

1.) Crumpled $2 intended for the tip jar of DJ who played our songs and bought us a shot
2.) Blue tootsie pop

I am envious of the fact my friend works with such a fun group of young professionals. I wish I could say the same. In job news, my raise FINALLY went through, but I’m still in the dark as to how much of a boost it is. However, it doesn’t change the fact I hate my job with a passion, and I deserve so much better than what I’m doing. When my internet starts working again (Qwest is garbage, I had to come to Panera to use their Wi-Fi), I really need to push myself to be proactive in my job search. I’m disgusted every time I hear myself tell others what I do for a living.

And in other news, I could not be any happier with the change in weather. With the humidity gone, I got three good outdoor runs in last week and it felt wonderful. I’m actually looking forward to doing some long runs in prep for the marathon now that it’s cooler.

Marking One's Territory

Yesterday was busy. I got up, went to the gym, and did 8 miles on the treadmill. Thought that was pretty good until I came home and checked my marathon "schedule" that said I should have done 12.

Then I went over to Stripes' house and we watched the first four episodes of season three of Weeds. He found them online and downloaded them, complete with French subtitles. Since I was very much looking forward to the new season, I kind of felt like I cheated or something by watching them early. I think disappointment may be too strong of a word, but I wasn't exactly jumping up and down with anticipation by the end. Don't worry, no spoilers though. Andy's storyline is my favorite thus far.

From Stripes' place, I headed to GC's. She invited me to her co-worker's BBQ which was way out in the middle of nowhere in the northern suburbs. I didn't know anyone other than her, so that always makes for somewhat of an uncomfortable situation, but it was a good time in all. I had the biggest hamburger of my life -- it was so THICK. It literally took half an hour to finish. The hostess said they were from Costco. Damn, that was one hunk of meat.

GC's co-worker was a character. She played Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits album, spontaneously busting out in lyrics and dance moves throughout the evening. As we were leaving, she said, "I'm sorry there weren't any cute boys here for you guys to make out with. I'd hook you up with my boyfriend's friends if they weren't all losers."

After the party, GC and I went to Miami. It was a strange crowd. Never seen so many black shirts, tats, and piercings in such an unusual locale. Most likely had something to do with the Uptown Art Fair being this weekend.

Anyway, the night got interesting when GC told me she thought she saw Nick from Big Brother. Of course, at the mere mention of the show, my ears perk up. I didn't see him right away, he was probably outside smoking, but she swore up and down it was him. Okay, she saw the show for the first time Thursday night. I live and breathe the show (albeit no one is very enthralled this season) and it definitely wasn't him. Despite my declaration it looked nothing like him, she was adamant, however, saying she knew it was him 'cause she thought he was hot, so we kept giving him looks until he finally came over to ask why.

Instead of asking flat-out if he was a contestant on Big Brother, she asked his name. I don't recall what it was, but alas, it was not Nick. She thinks she knows him from somewhere, but they never figured out the connection. Still, they had a lovely conversation until the owner of Miami, who happens to be smitten with GC, saw what was going on and came out to stake his claim. If he were a dog, he would've lifted his leg and pissed on her. GC and I were sitting on stools at the bar so the owner came up behind GC and started rubbing her shoulders. His gesture was so blatantly obvious, it scared off NotNick instantly -- he pretty much ran away as fast as he could.

In shock, the rest of the night GC kept repeating, "Did that really happen?" Before we left Miami, she really wanted to give NotNick her phone number, so she boldly approached him at the bar. But all because of a little shoulder rub, she got shot down. NotNick's polite response: "We know the same people." Meaning, he knew the owner and didn't feel like getting his ass kicked anytime soon.

We went to Bar Abilene for a bit, but it was too early to be exciting so since we were both exhausted, we decided to call it a night. Too many booze and boys (notice I said boys, not men) for one night.

$4.99 Plus Tax

That's the amount I should have deducted from my hair stylists' tip last Saturday. When asked if I wanted front-angling, I replied, "sure," under the false presumption it would look fabulous, framing my face. She said she would just do a little bit, so I thought it would be fine. After all, she had a super cute cut and looked like Nelly Furtado and after four long hours together, she'd done a spectacular job with my highlights.

To my horror, she took the scissors and hacked off the front pieces of my hair so now I have stray side bangs. I hate bangs. I especially hate bangs when you're working out and they hang in your eyes and later stick to the side of your face, drenched in sweat. So I went to Target last night and spent $4.99 on two headwraps with an adjustable strap in hopes they will actually stay on my head, but I'm not so optimistic considering I have soft, slippery hair.

I've been nervous for the marathon lately because I haven't taken training seriously. As I've mentioned about 1,000 times now, I've felt lethargic and out of shape, but yesterday I finally had a really great workout, which I desperately needed. I pushed myself and did 6 miles in 53:33 so I was very pleased.

Afterwards, I went and found a pair of running shoes, but they didn't have my size, so I'm going to check a different store today. When I told my friend the other day about my worn-out shoes, she said, "You better buy new ones before you injure yourself!" That never even dawned on me. I also purchased a heart rate monitor -- something I've been wanting for quite a while. I read some reviews on Polar watches beforehand, but I detest the fact Polar requires you mail in your watch to change the battery. So I went with a less expensive, Timex one instead. It's my first HRM so we'll see how this one performs.

Make New Friends, but Keep the Old

Busy, busy weekend. Marley officially hates me for spending no time with him.

So Friday after work, I felt winded running 6 miles. It was painful. The first three, I kept wanting to turn back which I only consider if I am really struggling. I forced myself to push through and when I'd completed three miles, I finally seemed to get in the zone so it was all good after that. It's usually not so much of a struggle which is evidence of my slacking.

That evening, a girl friend and I made plans to have a reunion of sorts with a guy friend of ours we hadn't seen since fall. We first met at Tugg's, but it was really crowded so we walked to Whitey's in NE Minneapolis. A friend of mine from work came with a couple of his buddies as well.

It was good to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. Whitey's is a very relaxed place so there was no craziness going on -- no stripper pole in the middle of the dance floor. Not even a makeshift (i.e. move the tables and chairs), designated dance area. Good conversation, and that alone, is responsible for providing the entertainment.

After Whitey's, my girl friend and our old pal (my work friend went home) headed over to Grandma's to meet up with her friend from nursing school that was in town. Given my friend and I used to work at Grandma's, it is always an experience to go back there. I often feel overwhelmed by a flooding of flashbacks. However, the place was absolutely dead. Even on $1 beer night! That says a lot. The bartenders still hook us up so that's always a positive, but it was kind of depressing to see the lack of patrons. It was so dead they hadn't even bothered to turn off the lights in a place that used to be a major meat-market -- lighting is NOT conducive to random hook-ups!

After a two-week break from alcohol, my tolerance noticeably lowered. The two drinks at Whitey's were STRONG. I barely had anything at Grandma's, but I felt really drunk. Unfortunately, going to Grandma's turned out to be a buzzkill. By 1:00 am, all I wanted to do was go to bed and go to bed, I did.

Now What?

Ho hum, life is so dreadfully boring as of late. I feel totally unprepared for running 26.2 miles come October 7. My workouts have been sporadic -- I've failed to keep up with my training. I managed to squeeze in 4 days last week, running 6 miles each time, so a grand total of 24 for the week. According to my schedule, I should have completed 18-19 miles so maybe I'll be okay. It's the long Sunday runs I've been neglecting that will ultimately screw me over. I was supposed to do 9 on Sunday, the number rising by 1-2 every Sunday. Much to my horror, the humidity returned in full force after a 6-day stretch of relief, so my run yesterday was not a pleasant one.

Today I headed to the gym for the first time since the "re-modeling." They added new machines and granite benches and countertops to the locker rooms, but other than that, I couldn't tell much difference. Within thirty seconds on the treadmill, I stopped and opted for one of the new elliptical machines. Why is it I had to get stuck beside the guy who insisted on blowing his nose directly into his towel?! The same towel he then proceeded to use to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Trust me, there was nothing discreet about several loud honks of a blow that sounded like a Canadian geese mating call!! Snot and sweat...what a combo.

On my way home, guess who I had the privilege of seeing again? BellyBulgeGuy --same green khaki shorts and all. Like a bowl full of jelly!

5 Miles in Hell

Why did I think I could run in this heat?!? Big mistake. My body prefers cold over hot any day of the year. I figured maybe I should try to acclimate my body to the humidity since this is my last week of freedom before marathon training starts.

In fact, I received my official participant of the '07 Twin Cities Marathon card in the mail today. I don't think the training itself will be the difficult part. I'm actually dreading the commitment of following a regimen more than anything. I hate the fact I'll no longer have the freedom to do whatever I want for my workouts.

Keep your Shirt on -- Please!!

If you're a guy, just because you can run without a shirt, doesn't mean you should. I realize it's like a thousand degrees outside with the humidity, but for the love of God, cover up!! Today I saw something no human being should be subjected to witnessing. As I was parked at a stop light, a pasty, white chubby male wearing green khaki shorts a couple sizes too small, ran past my car, his rolls jiggling as if in slow motion. The appalling image is embedded in my mind.

This humidity is killing me. Begrudgingly, I did a 6-mile jog yesterday in the heat, but today was simply unbearable so I went to the club and did 7 miles on the treadmill. Afterwards, I was doing sit-ups on the mats when a woman and her totally out-of-my-league personal trainer took the mat beside me. I've gotta start going to the club more often.

123 Days 'til Twin Cities Marathon

So I've been averaging 6-6 1/2 mile runs. I don't intend to start training until June 19, which is 18 weeks out from the race (October 7). For the most part, I feel somewhat confident in my ability to run the full 26.2 miles, but that could drastically change once training begins. Granted, I've run nowhere near that distance, but I completed that 12-mile run with minor pain. I know I could've gone further that day, but it was like, what's the point?

As I mentioned before, my goal is simply to finish. If I went all-out in training, I think there'd be a good probability I'd suffer a major case of burn-out before the race. At least I know I'm not the only one taking a half-ass approach. I felt a sigh of relief when my friend sent me this article a couple weeks ago. Check it out.

"Whether covering as little as 15 miles as week or as many as 100, the primary goal of all marathon programs is the same: to build your endurance to the point where you can cover 26.2 miles. Hence, the common denominator of every program is the weekly or every-other-week "long run" — a slow-paced run that starts at whatever distance you can now complete and, over months, grows longer."

I spoke to another runner friend of mine the other day about how I need to find a 5K and 10K to do as part of my training regimen so she suggested the Aquatennial Torchlight Run. It'll be exciting because the race begins at 7:30 pm! I invite any and all to join us!

Dead Duck

Last evening, I had an unusual start to my run. Lying in the center of the sidewalk outside my apartment building was a dead female duck. Feathers and body parts seemingly intact, it were as if she had dropped dead while flying, plummeting from the sky to her untimely death. Perhaps she'd undergone duck cardiac arrest or maybe her wings simply tired of flapping or perhaps she committed duck suicide over the loss of her male companion. Whatever the cause, it was an odd sight to witness. You certainly don't see that every day.

Come rain or shine, I was determined to run outdoors yesterday. The weather has been rainy and gloomy as of late, and even though it looked like there could be a torrential downpour at any given minute, I risked my luck and did a steady 6-mile run. It rained throughout most of it, but it was more of a light drizzle that was actually quite refreshing. About halfway through, a giant, dark cloud loomed overhead, so in my head, I told myself I had to outrun it, which didn't really work out so well, but it was fun to try. What can I say? Running can get boring -- sometimes you have to create your own entertainment.

Run Forrest, Run

After slacking the past couple weeks, I did a 12-mile run yesterday. Initially, I thought maybe I'd do 10, but when I reached 10, I wasn't tired, so I figured, what's 2 more? I'd never pushed myself to run that far before so it felt good knowing I could!

I was a little sore yesterday and thought I'd be hurting today, but I'm happy to report no soreness. I would've liked to work out today, but forced myself to rest after that long run. Not only did I not work out today, but I slept in 'til 11:40 AM!! No recollection of the last time I slept in that late -- usually don't wake up past 9:30. Going to bed after 3:30 AM every night this weekend may have had something to do with that...

TGIF

Yesterday's run was not good. I never fell into "the zone." I'm sick of my songs so it's time I added new music to my shuffle. That may have been part of the problem. I jogged at a slower pace, 6.4, and I kept hoping it would get easier as the miles stacked up, but it never did. I also felt unusually dehydrated. I had a bottle of water in my cup holder but I was too lazy to stop. If I had, my body probably would have shut down altogether, having lost my momentum. It was that kind of day.

It's a shame I had no camera because I did see some interesting outfits. I saw one woman wearing a bright orange top with matching pants who looked like she'd just escaped from the nearest prison. Then there's an older guy with a mustache and crazy mullet who always wears the same faded Everlast tanktop with his gut hanging out between where the shirt ends and his shorts begin. One dude on the treadmill worked out in jean shorts. Odd.

Still, the prize for tackiest outfit went to a middle-aged woman with salt and pepper colored hair. I can only assume she came straight from work because she was wearing black nylons under her shorts!!!!! She then had white socks over the nylons paired with white tennis shoes. Ridiculous. I hate nylons with a passion. I can't imagine anyone choosing to work out in them. Why, why, why?!?!

Twin Cities Marathon -- Now or Never

This morning, Dave Ryan talked about the "love it" or "hate it" experience of marathon runners, in preparation for the Twin Cities Marathon. He did Twin Cities last year and loved it. Registration opens Thursday, May 3, and online registration starts Friday, May 4. Running a marathon has always been on my list of things to do before I die. I figure this is the year to do it -- I'm 26 years old so there's a mile for every year of my life. Besides, I'm not getting any younger!! So I'm going to take the plunge and sign up.

It's comforting to know it should be relatively cool that time of year, October 7. Also, Dave said it's pretty much all flat except for a slight incline on mile 19 and no matter where you are on the course, there are supporters cheering you on. No music will be a difficult adjustment for me, but hopefully the adrenaline rush will somewhat compensate. At least if it's horrible, I won't have to spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like...

New Record

I was dreading going back indoors to the treadmill yesterday, but I had positive results. Usually it takes me a long time to build up speed, gradually increasing with each mile. But I started off strong, running at 6.5. Then at the 2-mile mark, my shoelace came untied. Could there be anything more annoying?!? I always pause my machine because I don't trust myself to be able to get back on at the same pace without falling off. So I lost all my momentum and struggled the next couple miles to regain my stride. It did get easier, however, around 5 miles, particularly when I realized I was beating my old record from a few weeks ago when I mentioned doing 6 miles in 57:18. This time I did 6 in 55:24, so I was very pleased!! Oh, and I was surrounded by three men, all of whom I outran. Must have been the new techno workout album I downloaded from iTunes.