throw it away. throw it away.

add another 3.1 miles to the DONE list. as well as a pantry cleaning raid and refridgerator wipe-down.
I had signed up for a 5k weeks ago that took place over at Shoreline in Mountain View just this morning. the training leading up to it just plain sucked for me. there is no better or more clever way to put it. the two or three times my two friends and I went to Shoreline to attempt the race route, my brain shut my body down saying "too much wind!" "where is the turn around point?" "I really don't think you know where you are going" "is that goose poo I smell?". basically, I did not do well. which led me to punish myself at the gym the days I was not at Shoreline.
I threw in a short run at my local trail (which again, took a good stab at my high spirits thanks to the high-noon sun and heat) and then headed to the hour long spinning class. the day prior to the race I hit the gym again doing weights and running an easy yet methodically dull 2.4 miles on the tready. half way through my running-in-place I heard a thump and turned to find a woman who had fallen while on the treadmill. "what am I doing here" I thought. I was punishing myself with exercise, to try and make my brain feel better.
I also surprisingly held back from a ridiculous amount of wine consumption the night before the race. some friends came over for dinner and while everyone laughed over crown royal and chianti, I sipped my iced tea. yummy yum yum.

after 8 hours of no sleep, I threw my running garb on and did 80 on the freeway to Shoreline (waking up as late as possible for any event and still making it on time makes me happy). and as one of my friends took off and went out of sight, I found myself paired with my Tag partner from grade school and I couldn't be happier. I pushed her and she pushed me the entire way and while we used to hold hands when we were 7 in order to run faster together, it wasn't necessary this time.

then I came home and threw out all the old shit that was in the pantry. and wiped down the shelves in the fridge.

good times.


what do I do

I paid a lot of money to get my hair done a couple of days ago. highlights and a cut. and I feel like I'm having a lot of personal issues with my hair since then. a couple days prior to my appointment, I could not help but notice my hair is thinner than normal. for those who may not know, I have had thin hair my entire life thanks to my dad. thin as in 1. don't have a whole lot of it and 2. the individual strands are thin and break easily.
it is hard to work the sexy face when you don't have the hair to back it up.
the ponytail has been my best friend for years.
I digress.

after noticing the super-thin-ness, I head in for my appointment. I am completely self-conscious about it this time around after checking myself out in the mirror the day prior. sitting under that heat lamp with my hair wrapped in foil frizzes made my paranoia exponentially grow. "THIS is not helping. I think I can FEEL my hair falling out" etc. and then to top it off, there's an article in the latest gossip mag about women's thinning hair.
it could be a sign of hypo-thyroidism or other problems. or it could just run in the family. the age to start worrying about either one of these scenarios? 26-30. I'm almost 27. and now I'm officially freaking out.
the entire rest of my appointment I spent focusing on individual hair folicles. personally, I thought the lady rubbed my scalp too hard when shampooing. followed by far too many brush strokes and blow-drying. and there was really no need for those extra spritzes of hair spray at the end (which would just end up tangling and ripping out later).

and let me just admit, I exaggerate everything. my entire blog is honestly an exaggerated public journal. but this story? NOT EXAGGERATING. I do not feel good about this. and I was not happy during this entire hair experience.

I come home and my hair has grown twice in size thanks to the hair lady and her blowdryer (I don't like big hair). after a night of sleeping on it, it flattens a bit and I like it better. then, while hanging out with my husband and a friend, a hair growth commercial comes on. they both comment on it. "just SHAVE your head" one says. the other brings up our other friend who has sexy, thick, long, herbal essence commercial hair. and BOOM I'm back in the salon again not wanting to be seen and seriously considering doing something about this.

and my birthday is around the corner. wonderful.


the downside of the uphill

my buddies and I have hit the trail two days in a row now. going on three. during Monday's run, I could tell I not only hadn't run for 3 days but had a good amount of thin mints and irish car bombs inside of me. toxicity.

when we got to the trail yesterday we decided to change our route. Instead of hitting the slow and steady incline of the one my shoes are most familiar with, we opted for a route that 1 of 3 of us had run before years prior. so this thing was entirely new to me and I was flipping out for the full 5 minute walk to the starting point becaaaause, our friend described it to us as one big-ass hill in the beginning and then a slow downhill loop after that. a downhill loop of which she had no memory of how long it took her years ago.

and thus we embarked. my mission? don't stop. go as slow as I have to but, don't stop. OH - and don't look up.

I made it up the entire hill and pretty much just let my body fall down the rest of the way. it was nice. show me a downhill marathon and I'm all over it.

we clocked the distance on mapmyrun.com later... I estimate about .5 miles of extreme uphill. felt like more but, it's hard to tell. afterward we were conversing about it and my friend said "hard hill but, beautiful view" me: "view? there was a view?"


miracle socks

well, my 4 wedgie socks have proven to be viciously full of purpose. I wore them for a stinky 3 days straight of running and quickly retired them to the laundry basket immediately upon returning home from the trail on the 3rd day. 2 running adventures later without them because they're busy stinking up the laundry room and I have two blisters coccooning tiny butterflies waiting to pop out and fly away.

this is when waterproof bandaids come in to play. but I wiggle my toes in my half-sleep and this creates a noise that sounds like large spiders trying to crawl up the side of my comforter while I am sleeping. not good.

so I washed my damn 4 wedgies already and have snuggled them over my damaged, ready-to-callus-or-crack toes and they are doing FANTASTIC. blisters are disappearing, my shoes are more comfortable, my teeth are whiter, and my jokes are funnier thanks to the wedgies.

but sadly, my pet butterflies didn't make it.


nuick nuick nuick

I sometimes wonder, if I take off in one direction on my favorite trail, how far could I actually just, GO... before having to stop, search for quarters, a pay phone, and call my husband to pick me up?
and when I say 'sometimes' I mean during the times I'm not testing to see how many Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies I can stuff in my face at once. which is a majority of the time. so, ya. I spent my weekend drinking beer with friends, being quiet the next morning as to not wake any of them up, and eating lots of Girl Scout cookies. while this is all fine and dandy, it leads to a Monday morning spent feeling extra body parts giggling and wondering "WHEN??? HOW??" which makes it all soo not worth it.
so this evening I plan on wrapping up my blisters with special band aids and sporting my nifty running attire at Rancho San Antonio for a warm and cozy jaunt with the bunnies.
maybe I'll see a cadbury. in which case, I'd have to stop and eat it. and then search for more.


4 wedgies and a friend

my during the week running buddy is suffering from one of two painful options.
option #1 super bad shin splint
option #2 a cracked bone
let's opt for option #1 as option #2 makes me think of a cracked shin bone sticking out of one's skin.

nonetheless, he is down for the count.. for at least 6 weeks. so my weekly running went to shit due to the fact I cannot leave my cubicle chair without a friendly obligation threatening me with guilt.

enter high school pal moving back to California after far too long. she's getting in to running for the first time in her life which means she is super amped and likewise has restored my interest and desire to stand up, change in to a skin tight outfit, and drive to a trail at 4pm every other day.

it's been a fun week consisting of buying myself some tight knee length pants that flatten my ass like a concave pancake, as well as some strange yet new blister-reducing toe-hugging socks (I call them my glove socks, or my 4 wedgies), and about 8 miles worth of new dirt on my shoes.

a good week it has been.