Just as I sat down to write tonight, I heard a weird noise. Half-sounding like Becky wheezing when her asthma is bad and half-sounding like my poor mostly-dead Mojo-cat crying, the noise I realized was the Bullshit-Fuck Guy who occasionally walks past our house. I think I wrote about him last summer when he awakened us at four in the morning with a string of curse words that I could have ridden from here to Nebraska. He was hurling them out of his mouth like Zeus threw thunderbolts but they were missing every target and hitting the concrete hard. “Fuck all of y’all. This is bullshit. Fuck! Shit!” These sounds followed him all the way from Granville and Walnut to Elm Street. The noise I just heard was the same voice, the same intonation shouting, “Fuck all y’all. This is bullshit.” All of our lights are on, and I think he saw us look out the window because he only said it twice and then stopped. But I am not sure if he is rational enough to stop because people are looking. He may have just decided not to fuck all y’all.
Today was the first training run for the Indy-Mini. I felt pretty good going into it because I have been doing all of the runs on my training plan. I was only worried this morning about the temperature and the fact that I had been training on the evil arc-trainer instead of outside. It was snot-freezing cold, and I was afraid my lungs would burn. However, I finished with my best time for a 5K yet: 40.11. That is 12:56 per mile, which beats the hell out of my time last time (44 and some odd seconds). Next month we run 6.1 miles, and I hope to finish in about 1:20.00. Obviously, that is the same average speed for six miles as I ran for three miles, but I seem to be a bit of a metronome. After the race, one of the Burris students who also runs came over and chatted with me, and I think that made my day really sweet.
When I began this running thing, I honestly thought I wouldn’t last. I thought I would wuss out and stop after a couple of months. I started last June 13, weighing in at 256 pounds when my family and I got back from summer vacation. My average time for a mile when I started run/walking was 16 minutes. I am happy to say that I have lost 35 pounds—I had lost 45, but then there’s Christmas and all—and my time hovers right around 13 minutes per mile. My goal is to finish the Mini in under 3 hours. If I can run 13 minutes per mile for the entire time, I should finish right at 2:49.00. I would be thrilled. Hell, I will be thrilled just to finish.
On the way home from the training today, we stopped at Trader Joe’s. I purchased a “Mystery Beer” sampler, which consists of six beers selected by the workers of Trader Joe’s all for the low, low price of $6.43. The trick is that you don’t know what beers you are getting. Of course I couldn’t wait until I got home to see what beers I had received, so I opened the bag in the parking lot. I got a Trader Jose’s (like Coronoa), several lagers, a couple of ales, and, prepare yourself, one was in a can. A can? Unless it’s PBR, it shouldn’t come in a can. What an abomination!
Once I got over the startling realization that I would be drinking beer from a can, we got in the car and drove home. We had to stop at PetSmart and buy food for the animals, and then we headed to Marsh for some final ingredients for one of our favorite dishes, Spicy Pinenut Basil Pasta. We were out of pinenuts, and I was out of orange juice. (If you are wondering if there is a reason I am telling you all of this, there is.) As we were in traffic on McGalliard, waiting for the light to change on Oakwood, I started to get a bit of a headache. By the time we arrived at Marsh, I told Bec she would have to drive home.
When we got home, I thought I would just go sleep off my headache because it didn’t seem to be horrible. Was I ever wrong! I experienced the worst migraine I have had since I have been an adult. I wish my head had only felt like it was in a vice grip. Instead it felt as if Santa, his reindeer, and the Easter Bunny were tap-dancing inside my sinus cavities. Typically, I can take four Ibuprofen (but I hate taking medicine), and my headaches go away, so after I tried sleeping it off with no success, I reluctantly took four Ibuprofen and tried to go back to bed. I couldn’t even lie down. I was nauseous and in intense pain, so I did what every grown person who gets a headache does. I cried. Hard. In fact, I was a blubbering fool, making quite a little spectacle out of myself. I tried taking a hot shower, but felt like I was going to pass out and fall in the tub, so I went upstairs and laid down in my bed. When I woke up it was 7:33. I slept for four hours in all. Ridiculous. It’s a good thing I have all day tomorrow to work on my dissertation proposal that is supposed to be finished tomorrow night.
When I finally woke up, I decided to go ahead and make Deliciousness (see above pasta dish) for dinner, and it ended up being one of the best batches I’ve made. That went to so well, I thought I would continue by making some vegan chocolate cookies. I used this recipe but replaced the eggs with bananas, the butter with vegan margarine, the white sugar with half as much brown sugar, the white flour with wheat flour, and the chocolate chips with dried cranberries and almonds. In short, I totally changed the recipe, but now it’s vegan and somewhat healthy. Well, it’s as healthy as cookies can be, right? But we don’t eat cookies to be healthy. The cookies are waiting in the refrigerator until I get finished typing this, then I will go bake them. I am sure they will be scandalously delicious.EDIT: They are awesome! Mmmm.
I have decided yet again to work more diligently at only saying things that are kind, positive, and edifying. I find that I can be incredibly angst-ridden, bitter, and negative if I let myself be. I don’t want to be those things, so I am again regrouping and making a concentrated effort to only say those things that leave people feeling better about themselves after they have been with me. I like people who leave me feeling that way. I want to be one of them for others.
Finally, I come to the end of this long, long post. I am working diligently on this Sermon on the Mount: Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they will inherit the kingdom of God. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” Again, the bold indicates the parts I couldn’t remember. Maybe I should employ these suggestions.
Here’s a Sermon on the Mount video for you to enjoy:
I am thankful for people I don’t know who congratulate me on a good run and cheer for the slow kids in the back of the pack.
Food: banana before running, juice, banana after running, apple, shortbread, chocolate milk, chips and hummus, whole wheat pasta with tofu, mushrooms, basil, and pinenuts, beer, two cookies
Exercise: walked the dogs, ran 3.1 miles
Just remember, the slow kids in the back of the pack are always faster than all the people who didnt run at all!
I’m so very proud of your running! Remember those days when you refused to power walk with me…???????????
Love you, Mom
I still hate power walking. My knees pop with every step. I did walk with you, though, even when I hated it. Remember how we walked the Mini together?
I had a wonderful time that day! I always LOVE being with you! I miss you…I miss being your best friend.