The other half of the marathon

Let's hope I look better than Homer on Sunday

One more training run to go and then it's show time! My second half marathon is three days away in scorching San Jose, California. Temperatures have reached 100 this week, so hopefully I can beat the heat. I've been running in the rain and mist here in Seattle - my favorite running weather. Not sure how you prepare for heat when there is none, but I'll just do my best to stay hydrated.

The last time I trained for a half, I was training hard to ensure I could just finish. I didn't care about my time so much as just crawling past the finish. I got in really good shape and stuck to a pretty rigorous workout regimen.

Training this time was a reminder of just how mental running is. Because I knew I could do this race, I didn't train as hard, so I'm hoping I'm still able to pull through and nab a PR. Not sure if that's feasible, being as I reduced mileage just a tad and have done next to no cross training (unless you count the handful of times I popped in a workout DVD).

I'm counting on the flat course and race adrenaline to keep my legs pumping. I guess I have done a bit more speed work than my last race. I'm excited to participate in the Rock n Roll race series. Someone combined my two favorite things in the whole world (music and running) and is making money off it. There is a band at every mile. I'm a little irked that I didn't think of it first. While I'm interested in seeing the bands, I can't race without my ipod. Michael Jackson has a way of motivating me that cannot be forsaken. Unless they somehow have an MJ cover band. That would rock my world.

I'm just happy that I'm doing a second half marathon. At the beginning of the year, I wasn't sure if I could run this distance at all, nevermind do two of these. I think I more than exceeded my New Year's Resolution. 

Anyway, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I beat 2:07:38. When you're cozy in your jammies on Sunday morning, send me some good vibes!

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but you never know what you're made of unless you try.

Beware of the Garage!

I'm afraid to see what memories are bursting through this garage door...

Last weekend, I went to my parent's house to help clean out their garage (which looks like something out of a Hoarder's episode). I didn't have too much stuff in there, being as I haven't lived with them in years, but I did find a few items that caused uproarious laughter.

• Notes/cards: My sentimentality as a child caused me to save every. single. note. ever written to me. I'm not exaggerating. I found notes that were passed to me in middle school classes all the way to a bundle of 8th birthday cards. Reading a few of them, it's hilarious how big of a deal everything is to adolescent girls. The littlest thing starts the biggest rumor, and the slightest is analyzed to the point where it loses it's meaning. While I kept all of the letters from my cousins in Japan and my great-grandma who is no longer with us, the melodramatic, he-said-she-said, omg, notes (along with saved games of MASH and Lemonhead) went to the recycle bin.

• Work shirts: I found a bag of polo shirts that I wore pushing carts and boxing groceries in my days working at a local retailer. I had a lot of great memories with old co-workers in those shirts, but I also have a lot of memories being verbally harassed by people with nothing better to do than terrorize those that serve the general public. Some other poor soul at goodwill can have those memories.

• Old fiction stories: rather than hanging out with friends and running around outside as a kid, I sat in front of the computer and worked on my words per minute. I pumped out story after story fueled by my vivid and overactive imagination - the longest reaching close to 90 pages. I had a series going called Milo, which I believe I've mentioned before, in addition to others with melodramatic titles such as It's Okay to Cry (I just about peed my pants when I read that). I have yet to crack these open to read what I wrote, but I couldn't part with these. They came back to my townhouse with me. I'm sure there will be another blog entry to follow.

• Puberty Book: the worst find of them all. If anything marked me as a hoarder, this was it. I have no idea why I would save the poor book ("Growing Up and Liking It") they handed out to us in health class, but there it was, amongst old arts and crafts projects, and "what I want to be when I grow up" essays. I was laughing so hard about it that I shared the find with my family, who handled the book as if it had gotten VD for hanging out in the garage all these years. It gave horrendous tips such as how often to change your pads, what to do if you get blood on your underpants, how to keep a calendar of your "flow." It also included talking points for parents who couldn't quite bear to have this conversation with your kids. This book was written just as awkwardly as the I imagine the conversations that sprung from it. Of course, the cover has a scene of a meadow and a mom and daughter picking flowers. I can just imagine the design team picking this cover photo, "If that just doesn't scream menstruation, I don't know what does!"

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but you don't need to save everything to keep memories from your childhood...especially not a puberty book.

An unnecessary warning

As of yesterday, I have become a huge fan of the website, etsy.com. It's basically an online craft fair, where anyone can host a website to sell their products. And there are some pretty talented people out there! I'm highly considering doing the majority of my holiday shopping on this site.

As I was perusing the holiday section, I came across a Halloween decoration bearing a message that is unnecessary to post on my baked goods, but rather a universally assumed warning:

You can check out the rest of this shop by clicking the link below:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/55981164/i-dare-you-handmade-vintage-style?ref=cat1_gallery_21

In order to finally fulfill one of my New Year's resolutions, I do plan to try my hand at some holiday baking this season. I might just buy these Halloween decorations as a disclaimer for Christmas treats, just in case you are one of the lucky recipients of my baking attempt :o)

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but channeling Julia Childs takes more skill than I possess.

How many can one person have?!

I'm sorry - I know this is vulgar, but I just about peed my pants when I saw it and thought I'd spread the laughter. It's the weekend; time to relax!


see more EpicFail

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but remind me not to go to that pharmacy.

Sweet sites for brides and moms - or not

I am neither bride nor mom, but I found both of these websites to be intriguing, as a 25-year-old female in a long-term, committed relationship.

 

www.offbeatbride.com

www.offbeatmama.com

 

While these are things I plan to accomplish in life at some point, I’m definitely content with the status quo of relationship -er-my family (which consists of our little Shiba Inu as our baby).

 

Moving in together definitely gave our relationship a different dynamic in a great way. We rely on each other in a different capacity than we ever have. We take care of each other. And if anything, it has only solidified what we were testing in the first place: is this relationship headed for marriage?

 

I jokingly told my boyfriend as he perused Costco.com for new TV’s, "Hey, you know what else they have on Costco.com?" 

 

He replied, "What?"

 

"A ring section!"

 

He said, “For claiming your in no hurry to get married, you are sure making some outlandish statements.” 

 

I said, “You’re right; I’m not in any hurry to get married. I’m in a hurry to get engaged!” 

 

Stake your claim, dude!

 

But anyway, back to the main purpose, there are some great wedding ideas if this is something you are planning at some point in your future. They have everything from do-it-yourself wedding veils to music suggestions to "wedding porn" where you can peruse other people's "off-beat" weddings. My favorite happens to be the viking wedding now being advertised from their homepage. 

 

I feel that these sites do a great job catering to those who are already mom's or brides-to-be, while also entertaining the non-members of these groups with such articles with their unique spin on such commercially exhausted subjects.

I'm a bit of a hippy, if you haven't guessed that by now, so offering alternative ways to parent and wed are right up my alley. There's nothing wrong with taking the traditionalist route, but I know in my case, I tend to take the path less traveled. 

 

Work + Las Vegas = Pool

Disgusting eye rapist

Traveling to Vegas on business is hard. I've had to make some really tough choices along the way - go to the conference I'm supposed to be at, or go to the pool? Go to the conference I'm supposed to be at, or get a massage? These decisions require extreme discipline that I have found I lack. I went to most of the seminars I planned on attending, but did leave early so I could catch some of the 104 degree rays that eluded Seattle this year.


As I was laying poolside, relaxing and most likely taking in irreversible sun damage which will lead to melanoma in five years, I experienced the unmistakable feeling of eyes on me. Almost at once, I put down my heavy reading (Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea) to find the eyes of my sunbathing neighbor boring into me. He was sitting directly in front of me, which required him to lay his chair back all the way down and turn backwards to accomplish his creepery. This guy not only was Powder's doppelganger, but was somehow some kind of albino hybrid with a hairy back.

But this was not some ordinary hairy back. He had uneven tufts of hair that looked as though they had been attached by a glue stick. Because he insisted on hitting every branch on the way down from the ugly tree, he also proudly donned a faded Tasmanian devil tattoo that looked as though it had been done in his favorite crayola colors. This no less, was located above the last tuft of hair on his shoulder. Sexy beast. I attract the best of them.

After several minutes of being uncomfortably eye raped, I had had enough. "Excuse me!" I said in a tone that made it obvious that his forcible staring was not consensual. Luckily, Powder was smart and turned around before he ignited Muhana Ali. I'm sure he did not want to see the Vegas version of her. I could just imagine the radio calls, "Security, do you copy?! Albino curb stomping at the wave pool. I repeat! Albino curb stomping at wave pool!"

Smart, Powder.

I am off to explore more of what the city has to offer me the third time around. I definitely have more vacation- I mean work week stories up my sleeve, which I will indulge you later. For now, I bid you adieu.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but the world is safer without igniting Vegas Muhana Ali.