never mind the bumps

move on and forget it

2011-11-30T21:18:00.001-07:00

I've been feeling mopey and self-disgusted after falling off the posting wagon during Thanksgiving, and then falling off the exercise wagon too. And by falling off the wagon I mean not even going for a walk for a whole week. While simultaneously eating pie like a professional. This I don't give a shit philosophy showed itself on the scale Monday morning, let me tell you. Nothing like a 4 pound gain to make you snap out of your wallow and give a shit.

I just heard this great mantra about willpower today. When faced with a temptation (whether that's something you want to eat, or something you don't want to do, like go for a run) you have two options: you can give in and regret it, or move on and forget it. The forgetting it is, admittedly, harder at some moments than others, but I'm going to add it to my other mantra: you don't drown my falling in the water, you drown by staying there.

I'm pulling myself up out of the water right now, trying to make good food and exercise choices. Little by little, piece by piece, I'm trying to move on and forget how I sidetracked myself over the holiday. It's hard work.

many things that bug me monday (and i know you care)

2011-11-21T12:46:00.001-07:00

Actually, I'm fairly certain no one cares about what bugs me, but I'm going to share them with you anyway. I was making up a list of these today at lunch with Mr. Bump and so I thought, why not write them all down and share them with you. To the list!

Glitter. Glitter cards, glitter gift bags, glitter everything. It invades your home and you find it everywhere, forever. FOREVER. Try to find a birthday card that doesn't have glitter on it. I dare you. God forbid you need one for a girl child. Christmas is a land mine. Everywhere is glitter from now until the 7th of January.
Vibram Five Fingers. I'm going to rope toe socks in here as well. I have a hard time with flip-flops, for that matter. I just don't like my happy little family of toes to be separated from each other. It makes me feel icky.
Belts. Your belt is fine for you. But I don't like things around my middle. It might in part be because I'm a sloucher and it cuts at my belly button. But really, either your pants fit you or they don't.
Literally. Generally when someone says this, they actually mean the opposite. It's also strangely contagious, like yawning.
Partial dampness. I absolutely HATE it when I'm washing my hands and I get a sleeve wet, or when water runs down in your shoe and gets your sock wet. Or you splash water on your pants. True story: when we were in Iceland wandering around at the foot of a glacier, I got too close to someone else and we both sunk into the mud. That water was cold. Also, I just couldn't deal with a cold wet sock and foot so I hoofed it back to the car and waited there while everyone else climbed on the glacier. Some people still won't let that die, and that was in 2007.
Turning nouns into verbs. Text is not a verb. It is a noun. You compose a text, you type a text, you write a text, you even send a text. But you do not text.
People touching my face. This is just one of those places that seems very intimate and personal and I'd really rather you not touch it. Sometimes I have to suppress the urge to slap Mr. Bump's hand away when he touches it, and I love him. (Sorry hon.) I've never had a facial. I practically have to take a valium when I have my eyebrows done. But needs must, people. I do that for you.
The space challenged. You know the people who take up almost the entire aisle in the Whole Foods. Cart parked in the middle at an angle that makes it impossible to get by. And they always seem to be staring intently at something above them, but facing away from you so they aren't able to acknowledge your existence.
Bad smells. I'm pretty sensitive to smell. If someone has been toking up before they get on the bus, and they sit down anywhere near me, I'll be nauseous before the bus makes its first turn. In downtown Denver on the 16th Street Mall there is an Aveda training salon that smells very very Aveda-y. Oils and essences, an herbal explosion. In the summer, the hot garbage smell drifting out of the alley next to the Aveda school mixes with the herbal essence explosion that makes for a smell that... ack. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit thinking about it. Moving on.
I really want to have a tenth thing just so it comes out to ten but I can't think of anything right now. I'll update later if something comes to me. Not having a tenth thing bugs me. There you go.

Ok, tell me what bugs you? Does anyone share my crazy?

sunday

2011-11-20T22:08:00.001-07:00

Today involved much baking. Much baking. Mr. Bump and I made a batch of brownies, a batch of bar cookies, a miserable failure of a batch of chocolate chip cookies (my nemesis, I tell you!), and a whole lot of pumpkin bread.

I made some of the pumpkin bread into muffins and glazed them with a cream cheese glaze. I baked a loaf of pumpkin bread and made a batch of them in my mini bundt pan too.

Proof of the barefoot baking

The mini-bundt pan ones came out really cute drizzled with glaze. You would think all that baking would be enough to exhaust us, but we managed to make and can 6 pints of applesauce and 3 of apple butter. And roast a chicken and root vegetables. And make a trip to Costco.

And one other small detail. We groomed the dog and cut her hair, which is such a long and arduous process that we all have to go to our separate corners afterwards and meditate for awhile. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but the hair gets everywhere. And when we're done, we have enough hair leftover for a whole separate dog.

This actually wasn't from today, but I'd say there was probably more hair than that tonight.

And now it's the tail end of Sunday, and I must admit this weekend was satisfactory. We got a lot accomplished and we had a date and roasted a chicken. And canned some applesauce. We are Superheroes of Sunday, I tell you.

date night

2011-11-19T20:17:00.001-07:00

Mr. Bump and I just got home after a long date. It's been a fabulous day.

After sleeping in this morning and a leisurely breakfast, we drove down to Boulder to visit McGuckin's Hardware, which is always a great place to wander around. A hardware store that's so much more than that, both of us usually find something or other we want. After that we had lunch at Smashburger and wandered down to the Pearl Street Mall. Any time we're in Boulder we generally have two stops. The first is McGuckin's, the second is The Peppercorn. They've got all sorts of kitchen stuff, all of it interesting, most of which I covet. Today we got out of there with a few cookie cutters, a new whisk and spatula, some measuring spoons and a couple of Christmas gifts. We found another little store on the mall that sells Toms, and since I've ravaged my last pair within an inch of their lives, I bought a pair (this time gray instead of red--hopefully they'll age better) and then another pair because they were on sale and woobie on the inside. It was that kind of day.

This evening we had a date night, which is so rare we couldn't remember the last time we had one. We had a Groupon-thingy through Amazon local for a local restaurant called Venue bistro. It was really yummy. I had a spinach salad with pepitas and goat cheese, with a Lion Stout vinaigrette. Mr. Bump had a cheese plate with fruit, nuts and homemade lahvosh. For dinner I had a worcestershire glazed pork chop with barley risotto with cheddar cheese, apple and pear. Mr. Bump opted for gnocchi bolognese. Normally when we go to dinner there is a winner declared for who ordered the best dish. Sometimes we get lucky and each of us likes what we ordered more than the other. And rarely, we both love both dishes and get to share. Tonight was the night for that.

None of the desserts, however, looked interesting, which was a pity. But I had the idea to wander down the street to Apres Dessert Bar. You got it, a restaurant that focuses most of it's menu on dessert. You can get small dinner plates too, but after all dessert is in it's name. Mr. Bump got the belgian waffle with butter pecan ice cream, maple syrup and maple candy. I ordered the banana bread french toast with oatmeal ice cream, spiced apple butter, and candied rice krispie treat. As far as I'm concerned, it was no contest. I won. Oatmeal ice cream? Ah.maze.ing. Crispy cubes of banana bread, and candied rice krispie treat? Fan. Tas. Tic. The piece de resistance, however, was the spiced apple butter, which married it all together. Yum. Mr. Bump's was good too, but not as good, I'm afraid to say. If you haven't been here, go try it. It's only open on the weekends, from 2pm to midnight, but soooo good.

And now, it's 8:30, I'm already sleepy, and the skinny jeans were a really bad idea. If I'm not careful, I could pop a button and put an eye out.

How's Operation Swimsuit going, you ask? Yeah. I'm not gonna talk about that tonight. Maybe when I come down off my sugar high. I know I'm not the best role model, but you know what? Some days look like this. And you just have to deal with it.

Really, that dessert was worth it. And the pork chop risotto was nothing to shake a stick at either.

maybe baby

2011-11-18T22:06:00.001-07:00

This is a re-post from one of my first handful of blog posts from April 2006. I've never done a re-post before but, I'm tired of trying to scrape together a topic. There, I said it. Anyway, I thought this was interesting to read five years later. Our ship may have sailed on babymaking (and I can't remember the last time I had that dream), but there are always what ifs. Let me know what you think on the subject.

Last night I had one of those nights where you keep falling back into the same dream--dreaming the same thing over and over, waking up, and then falling back into the dream. It was a clear case of knowing why I was dreaming what I was dreaming, but not really knowing or wanting to know what it might mean. It felt like someone kept pushing my face underwater--I would struggle to wake up out of it and then I would just fall back under.

The dream is fading now but I know it involved a baby--an infant--and breastfeeding, and a feeling of ineptitude with regard to the ability to not just care for the infant, but to remember that it needed caring for. At one point I went out and left the baby sleeping. The baby didn't seem to cry or make noise--it was like a doll. A placeholder. So it seems pretty obvious what the dream is "about," although I'm not sure that the conscription of narrative and meaning on what is so obviously non-narrative and disjointed is wholly appropriate.

The question of children--to breed or not to breed--has been on our minds a great deal lately. We are entering the age of life where nearly everyone we know has had children or is having children. At this point, we only know one couple who are married but have not made that leap. We feel a bit adrift. Currently we are reading this book, which, while timely, is not necessarily making our minds up one way or another.

Tell me how you know to have children? What are the reasons for it? Why have children at all? What makes it the "right time" in your life, your circumstances of place and situation? Am I treading water, waiting? Or is it not meant to be for us? Do we just not want it badly enough to justify what comes with procreation? Is it safe? Does it matter if it isn't? I want to know if anyone thinks about the world their children will inherit when they make the decision. How do you shrug that off or make it ok? Will it make me happy? Will it hurt the happiness I already have? What if it changes me? What if it doesn't?

Sometimes I think I do want parenthood, and all that it entails. I think that it would make things easier, in some ways. You have a defined role: in your house, in society, in the world. Everyone knows that you are a Mother, and what that means. But then another part of me wants to make my own path, my own role. I want to decide who I want to be. I know that I don't have to be the "mother" as anyone else defines it. I know that. But I also know that it is easier to walk a path that is already beaten down than one that you have to forge yourself.

But I also would want it for other reasons, too. I would want it for baby smells and a boy who looked like Mr. Bump, with those same hands that his father and his brother have, and he has too. I would want it for teaching someone, and that moment when suddenly you are learning from them. I would want it for heated arguments about political beliefs, for watching someone shape who they are, which parts align with yours, which parts are against yours. I would want it for the experience of the whole thing, baths and meals and games and tears and hugs and letting them go. I would want it for my parents' sake, even though they have never pushed a desire for grandchildren on me. I would want it for the people I hope I could raise children to be in the world, and how they might change it in ways the world wouldn't change if they didn't exist. I would want it for hope.

There is the other side of me, too. There is the side which doesn't want to have to discipline anyone, is frankly afraid of what kind of damage she could do to someone who is wholly dependent upon my guidance. It is the side that loves my life with Mr. Bump, loves the freedom we have in what we spend our money on, and where we can travel to. It is the side that can sit for a whole afternoon reading a book, letting silence fill the space around me. It is the side which likes its nap, doesn't like to share, doesn't like a mess. It is also the side that loves Mr. Bump so much and worries about how children tax a relationship, how they change it. How they strain a marriage financially, emotionally, physically.

If we had gotten pregnant by accident, I can't tell you what we would have done, but we are careful people and that hasn't happened. It probably never will. And so it is up to us which way we want to turn. We don't have (thankfully) any pressure from parents or families for grandchildren. We are left to our own decision-making devices. Some days I'm tempted to flip a coin, I'm so ambivalent.

But Mr. Bump is much more cautious about the whole thing. I think initially when I met him he understood that someday he would get married, have children, etc. But then he met me, and I imparted the beliefs that I had had since I was eight or so, which were, "Why have children? Not for me." I think he challenged his own beliefs and was won over to mine. Now he claims I did too good a job convincing him he didn't want kids. I understand how he feels and my feelings are so of two minds that I am on his side and I am not, all at the same time.

I want someone to tell me the answer but I know there is not really anyone who can. And so I dream this dream, probably at least once or twice a month, where I lose a baby, or I think I'm pregnant but I don't ever look pregnant, or something like that. And I know that dreaming about that baby doesn't mean that I want a baby. But I wish it did. It would be so much easier that way.

P.S.--I have heard that there are all these people out there reading this blog--directed there by one of my dear friends. But I have yet to hear from any of you--you ghost readers. In the world of forums and blogs you're called lurkers. It seems to me that I could use your help--tell me what you think about what I think. I'm never above hearing other people's opinions, thoughts, advice. Please. I don't bite. (Unless you ask me to, that is.)

Originally posted April 3, 2006.

over it

2011-11-16T22:45:00.001-07:00

I've successfully made it through half of the month of blogging every day. I'm over the hump. I am also very tired. I left the house this morning at 6:27. I made it back home tonight at 9:40. I spent 4 1/2 hours at work, an hour for lunch with Mr. Bump, 4 1/2 hours working in the afternoon, then went to my hair stylist after going to the post office. After two hours with the Best Stylist in the Universe, I drove over to pick up a friend, and then we drove over to the hospital and spent an hour with a friend who's in the ICU. We sat in the car and chatted for a bit, and then I got home at 9:40. Then I ate cereal and cheese and crackers for dinner.

I thought I'd throw up a couple of pictures of my new hair and call it good for a blog post. Days like today don't make blogging every day easy. I'm just really exhausted.

Then I spent 30 minutes posing for Mr. Bump because there is no such thing as a "quick photo of my new hair" apparently. Anyway, enjoy. It's getting long. I'm glad to get some color back in it.

testing...testing...testing

2011-11-15T18:49:00.001-07:00

I'm finally sitting down to write about my date with the Exercise Physiology and Human Performance Laboratory. I can't believe it's been a week and a half. Cripes. Fair warning, this is a long one. If you're interested, (all four of you), click through after the jump break. It's a long post, so if you don't want to read the whole thing, the short version is: I need to go slower, if I want to get faster. And I need to lay off the M&Ms (actually, that one's all me. We didn't talk about nutrition.). But I will get there, eventually, on the M&Ms.

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photo booth fun

2011-11-14T14:20:00.001-07:00

Some more shots from the wedding the other night. These are fun. I actually have some other things to talk about which will happen soon. But man I love this dress. Here's another opportunity to gaze upon it's loveliness.

I wasn't really choking her, I promise.

See? I love my mama

2011-11-13T21:48:00.001-07:00

I have so many things I want to talk about but I waited too late and I'm too tired to get into any of them very far, but I'll give you a preview of coming attractions. To the bullets!

I met with an exercise physiologist (Dr. Inigo San Millan) on Friday, to go over the results of my V02 max and lactate threshold tests I did the Friday before. It was fascinating stuff, and is basically rocking my world in terms of what I need to do to get faster. I'm going to be changing things up for the next three months to get me where I'll need to be to train for a spring marathon. I can't wait to tell you all about it but it's complicated, and I want to explain the science right, and also I'm waiting for him to email me the report because he had to fix some things.
I ran tonight for the second time this week, and despite being slightly underdressed (no arm warmers/sleeves and it was windy), it was a good 4 1/2 miler. The shorter runs are always easier, but now I know why. Fascinating stuff, I'm telling you.
I baked a chocolate cinnamon bundt cake (four small ones, actually) and then 8 small loaves of pumpkin bread. Anyone want some pumpkin bread? I have lots.
I am so tired. We slept in until 8 this morning, something I don't think I've done in months. It was delicious. And yet, I'm still so tired.
I hate these Mondays. This week is Term of Court, on of five we have a year, which means I have to dress up like a grown-up, and I'm not looking forward to it. Normally it snows during this week every year, so thankfully the weather shouldn't be too awful. But still it's heels all week.
I do have Friday off, so technically not all week. But still.
I'm finally seeing my hair stylist on Tuesday. I can't wait to get my firecracker back.

Ok, that's all I've got for tonight. Sorry. I'll try harder to be brilliant tomorrow.

just hanging

2011-11-12T22:07:00.001-07:00

After some gatorade, some advil, and some quality time with my mom and dad for my dad's 77th(!) birthday, I'm finally feeling better. But this morning was rough. My tolerance for alcohol seems to be somewhere between two and three glasses of wine. Shame last night I had a gin & tonic and three (possibly four--it was an open bar and I lost track at some point) glasses of wine. That falls squarely in much too much alcohol.

But we had a fun time at the wedding party, and a great day with my folks, including breakfast, a trip to IKEA, some card playing and a birthday dinner. They've gone home, and I'm about spent, so I don't have anything more to say tonight. So I'll leave you with another gem of a photo.

We'll have to talk about the dress later. It was fabulous and wonderful and worth every penny. Sadly this was the best full photo of it that I found on my camera or Mr. Bump's. Perhaps there were paparazzi somewhere and I'll find some more pics in next week's US Weekly.

proof

2011-11-11T23:12:00.001-07:00

That Mr. Bump does have a boogie woogie bone in his body. Much fun. Very drunk. More later.

tenacious L

2011-11-10T20:27:00.001-07:00

Back in March of 2000, Mr. Bump and I made our love real and signed a lease on a teeny tiny 2 bedroom apartment. We had a short list: dishwasher, washer and dryer, garbage disposal, pets ok, and 2 bedrooms. We managed to get all of these things in the smallest possible square footage imaginable. But we were young and in love and flush with the joys of cohabitating. The only flaw was that we shared a furnace with the landlord, who had what he termed as a "workspace" in the basement. It wouldn't be a big deal, though, because he wasn't there all the time.

Except that he was. He was there all the time, nights, weekends. All. The. Time. And guess what? He had control over the thermostat. Which wasn't so bad in the summer, but in the winter our apartment was about 150 degrees, because I don't know if you know this but HEAT RISES. So he'd crank it up and we'd crank it down and scratch our heads. We also scratched our heads at the heat bill.

There were other things too. He liked to smoke pot down there. Like, often. He enjoyed frying fish. A lot of fish. Some evenings were both fish AND pot. And did I mention that we shared a ventilation system? Basically, we discovered over time, that we were living above our landlord's man cave. It took us nine months to start looking for a place to buy. Unfortunately, what we finally ended up buying was a new home that's foundation was still a dream. We weren't able to close on it until July of the next year. It felt like the house that would never be built.

This is all backstory, by the way. The other bit of backstory is that when we moved in to the place, the previous renter didn't clean the apartment, and he didn't have it cleaned before we moved in. He promised he'd "make it right" with our deposit when we moved out.

So we FINALLY close, move all our stuff out, and rent a carpet cleaner. I clean the carpets, but they're pretty dirty in a couple of places, mostly because there were only a few places where we could sit and put our feet. I leave a message for the landlord about when I can get the deposit back. I get a call from the landlord saying that the carpets were pretty dirty, and maybe I could just rent one of those carpet cleaners from Home Depot. I explained to him that I had actually already done that, but he just kept saying "you know you can just rent them for the day at the Home Depot..."

I can clearly rent a carpet cleaner from Home Depot!

Eventually I got so frustrated I just told Mr. Bump to deal with him, because he was chicking me. That's the term I just coined for when some asshole treats you like a girl and pats you on the head. So maybe he won, because I threw up my hands after three rounds of I. RENTED. A. CARPET. CLEANER. ALREADY. Mr. Bump's way of dealing with him was just to let it go. Let the deposit go, move on, concentrate on our beautiful brand new home and our new life together. He let the pot-smoking, heat-jacking, fish-frying bastard go. Can you guess that in some ways my husband and I are not at all like?

Well, he IS taller than me.

In case you're not keeping track, let me remind you that this was ten years ago. Have I let it go?

My name is Mrs. Bump. You have my deposit. Prepare to die.

Mostly.

I tell you this story to illuminate an aspect of my character. I will admit it's not actually one of my finer attributes, but I have a hard time letting things go. Like a pit bull whose teeth have been coated in super glue. Poor Mr. Bump just doesn't understand why I waste so much of my energy on something so CLEARLY not worth my energy. I honestly can't help myself. I'd rather be able to shrug things off rather than obsess about them. But I'm not wired that way.

I'm not wired this way, either.

The flip side of this aspect of my personality is that I can train for and run a marathon. I can lose 106 pounds. I can re-book a cancelled flight on a transatlantic cell phone call from an Icelandic backwater motel, despite being hung up on several times. If you need help storming the castle, I'm your girl.

Have fun baking without dairy! Think it'll taste good? It would take a miracle.

And seriously, if you need a vegan baked good, I will knock that shit out or die trying. Just don't expect me to make you pot brownies.

fun with vegans

2011-11-10T07:30:00.002-07:00

(I posted this last night but there were edits so I'm re-posting it today. But it was posted yesterday. No cheating. Swearsies.)

So my brother-in-law is getting married on Friday, which should be great fun, with a photo booth, a surf rock band, yummy food, and a kick-ass wedding cake. In this day and age, however, it isn't enough to have a kick-ass wedding cake. You also need to have Options. Options for the gluten-free folks. Options for the lactose intolerant folks. And options for the vegans.

I have been tasked with making some pumpkin cupcakes for the vegans who are coming to the wedding, which sounds like a great and fun baking adventure. I love a good baking adventure. Really I do. I'm pretty good at whipping up someone's dream dessert, be it baklava or boston cream pie. You ask for it, I bake it.

But baking vegan is hard, yo. Not hard from a construction standpoint. Generally the recipes don't require a mixer, even. But hard from a flavor standpoint. A vegan cupcake, I have learned, is invariably somewhat gummy. It may also have an oddly chemical aftertaste. And don't get me started on the shortening frosting. It goes against everything in me to make frosting with shortening. I fall firmly in the "butter makes the batter better" camp.

I have a mini-vegan rant that goes along the lines of if you're giving up animal products and by-products, then why eat "fake" food? Why not just cut things that have eggs and butter and whatnot out of your diet? I wouldn't want to live in a world without baked goods. But I think the substitutes aren't very good. These cupcakes, while pretty, are not in the same zip code as the one's I'd make with eggs and butter. Not in the same country. Possibly different solar systems. Is it healthier to give up baked goods altogether if you can't have butter or eggs, or should you eat processed foods like shortening and "buttery sticks" and milk made out of things that aren't milk? I don't know--I really don't.

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travel tuesday: rome

2011-11-08T22:10:00.001-07:00

After my post about Cinque Terre last week, I was going to talk about somewhere other than Italy this week, but I was chatting with a co-worker about Rome this afternoon, and I got that heart ache. The one where you conjure up an image of somewhere and you get a little all senses memory hit.

The way the light filters into the Pantheon, a cool stream of light that cuts a swath across the floor.

The cool humidity coming off the Trevi Fountain at dusk. It's bustling with people all hours of the day, but it seems like a party in the evening. People eat gelato, chat with each other. It doesn't feel quite as much a "get out of my photo-op" as it did earlier in the day.

It was nice to maneuver out of the way of everyone else's photos and just people watch. The photo below is where we were standing to take the photo above.

The pure sound of silence in the Sistine Chapel when you're the only ones there.

Not the Sistine Chapel, but the map room in the Vatican museum is pretty cool.

(I don't have a picture of this one since photos aren't allowed in the Sistine Chapel, but my memories of it are as much about the sounds of that room as they are the magnificent ceiling.) I'll throw in a photo of the Swiss Guard for you, how's that?

The music of the rollerbladers in the Borghese Gardens, mingling with the taunts they shout at each other, egging the next one over or under the limbo stick.

The taste of the gelato we bought across the street from Largo Argentina, which we ate while we strolled around and counted feral cats in the ruins.

The late afternoon light at the Colosseum, as the shade began to climb upwards.

The nearly unbelievable expanse of St. Peter's Basilica. The longer you're standing in it the larger you realize it is.

Rome is so very old. It's ruins piled on ruins and then a 500 year old building newly built on top of that. Like New York City, it has it's own way of making you feel small.

But more than small, it makes you feel how transient life is. These ruins have been here for thousands of years. And they'll be here for a thousand more after we die. They will outlast us.

I think it would be amazing to live in a city like that, one that is always reminding you that you're only here for a moment, the smallest grain of time. There is a certain kind of Italian shrug (very different from the French one, I think), that says "eh, we're all going to die. What are you going to do about it?"

I guess I understand that. You walk by the Pantheon every day, or take the metro by the Colosseum to get to work, then you're constantly being reminded of that fact.

On our last day in Rome, we went up to the Borghese Gardens to see the view of Rome, and wander around like the Romans do on a Sunday afternoon. We sat down for a moment to rest our feet after a long day of walking, and we saw ourselves.

At least, a version of ourselves, 30+ years from now. While I hope we're laughing more than these two did when we're their age, I hope we love each other as much as they seemed to love each other.

When I say "We saw ourselves in Rome," I of course mean this little interlude, but also I think we felt the possibility of a life there, in amongst the ruins.

I know one thing. We'll certainly be going back to Rome. Hopefully soon.

*All photos are either mine or Mr. Bump's much more fabulous ones. The full set of Italy photos can be found on his Flickr site.

seven days is all she wrote

2011-11-07T22:10:00.000-07:00

Well, apparently I have about seven days worth of posts in me. Yeah, I know. To the bullets!

Today went better than yesterday in the food department, but it still could have been better. I'm trying to reduce snacking, and I made it to 3:45 before I had one--a string cheese. But it was kind of a gateway to a handful of crackers, a cup of cocoa (it was cold in the office!). There were a few graham crackers this evening, too. But today was better.
Something in my right foot is hurting, and I'm stiff up and down my right side. Perhaps Mr. Bump's been kicking me in my sleep? Since walking isn't too fun, I didn't run tonight.
I made some vegan pumpkin cupcakes tonight for a wedding on Friday. They were not good. If Mr. Bump doesn't finish a baked good, then it isn't good. Back to the drawing board.
The guy who won the ING New York City Marathon yesterday set a course record by two minutes, finishing in 2:05:05. His marathon time is 15 minutes less than my half marathon PR. Crazy.
I just finished the latest Alan Bradley book in the Flavia de Luce series: I Am Half-Sick of Shadows. I love these books. Start with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. The protagonist is an 11 year old girl who loves chemistry (especially poisons), her bicycle Gladys, and solving murders. Set in 1950s Britain, the one I just finished is the 4th so far. I love them all, but the first one is the best. Flavia is one of my all time favorite characters, I have to say. Alan Bradley talks about her as willful and fully formed. If he tries to get her to do something she doesn't want to, she just gives him a look of withering scorn.
I love my Kindle, really I do, but I often find if I'm reading a really excellent book, I don't realize how close I am to the end until I hit the next page button and there is no next page. Dismay is the word, I guess, that describes it. This happened to me in New Orleans with Bossypants by Tina Fey. Such a bummer. I Am Half-Sick of Shadows was much the same way.
Finally, this Daylight Savings Time is kicking my butt. I'm just fine with that extra hour in the morning, but I start to drag around 9:30.

On that bullet, I'll say goodnight, sir! I'll try harder tomorrow for an actual topic.

the reminder

2011-11-06T19:53:00.001-07:00

It's Sunday night. And for me, every week begins on Monday morning. So I'm going to try again tomorrow, to do better, to be healthier, and to lose some weight.

There are many, many times when I need this reminder. And not just about running. About dieting. About taking risks. About life. Tonight is one of them.

Suck it, negative self-talk.

this must be the place

2011-11-05T18:34:00.000-06:00

Ours is the one in the middle with the big green tree in front.

I have a happy place. It’s the place I let my guard down, kick off my shoes, brew a cup of tea and stare out the window. I bake a cake, read a book, take a nap, take a walk. It’s our cabin near Leadville and I love it. We love it. One of our loveliest, dearest friends named it Bumpalot, and I embraced the name immediately. It fits.
We love it in the winter when we can strap on our snowshoes at the front door and set off over the drifts down across the frozen lake in front of the house, and over the mountain behind the house. Snowshoeing is a delight. You can take the beaten down path (if there is one) or you can just go overland. Across beaver dams, and straight down a hillside you could never traverse in the summer. It’s also a delight because the world is muffled by the snow, quiet and full.
You can see tiny mouse tracks on the top of snow, impossibly small and light enough that the mouse doesn’t sink into the snow. I always get my shoes tangled at some point and pitch into a snowdrift, which is somehow also fun.

We love it in the summer when it’s 90 something degrees down in Denver, but up here the temperature drops every night and every morning is cloudless, bright blue and full of adventure. A bike ride, a hike, a run, a drive.

Ten or so miles down the road is Twin Lakes, with cute little weekend cabins and lots of fishermen. On the south side of the lake is a hiking trail that travels along the length of both lakes. The trail goes out to the remains of an old summer hotel called Interlaken, where people would come for the summer. There was a steamboat that brought people across the lake. Now all that is left are a few old buildings, and the owner’s old house, which has been refurbished by volunteers. Just after Mr. Bump and I got married we tried to hike over there with my friends Paige and Melissa. I didn’t make it the 4 miles out to Interlaken before I had to turn around. The first time I eventually made it out there felt amazing. Monumental. Like I could do anything.

Twenty miles or so south of Bumpalot in Buena Vista is Kay’s Dairy Delight. It’s only open seasonally and you have to order from the window in the front and sit at a picnic table in front along mainstreet or go sit in your car. The soft serve is lovely, especially after a hot day of hiking or driving around. But my favorite thing about it is the fact that they turn their broken ice cream cones into doggie cones. They’ll give your pooch a little soft serve cone for free if you ask, or even if you don’t ask but they see your dog.
We love it most especially in the fall when the house is surrounded by golden aspen and the valley, all the way up and down, is filled with red and gold and green.

There is a place we go every year in the fall, called Vicksburg, which is basically an really picturesque strip of log cabins. Usually by the time we make it down there they’re all closed up for the season, but somehow that seems just right. We take the dogs and walk up and down the grassy “street,” checking to see if anything has changed. I remember doing this with Mr. Bump’s dad, who died in 2000. I think their family has been doing it for a lot longer than that.

But as much as I love all of the things we can do from here, the reason I love it most that we don’t have to do any of that. We don’t come up here as much in the spring (in part because the weather is more unpredictable) but when we do we tend to light a fire in the woodburning stove and curl up to read a book, because if it isn’t snowing then it’s melting and muddy. Although baking at 10,000 feet can be an adventure, I bake a lot up here, because I have the time to experiment and the kitchen, despite the ugliest of green formica counters, is lovely to bake in. There is lots of (ugly) counterspace, and a fantastically stocked kitchen. A pantry full of baking staples. It isn’t my dream kitchen, but it’s nice.

We don’t have satellite so no TV, although we have a TV and dvd player and sometimes watch movies. We poach wireless off a generous neighbor who hasn’t enabled security on their network, so it’s spotty and we feel lucky if we get to check our email once in a while. There’s always a project we’re working on (and by we I mostly mean Mr. Bump and my mother-in-law). Lots of puttering happens.

You can do whatever you want, even if that means nothing. You can read a magazine, see a recipe for an apple cake in it, and bake it for dessert. No need to clip it out or write it down or fold over the page and hope you remember later. You can do it right then. You can take a nap without any shame (it’s almost a requirement). You can paint your toenails. You can throw the ball for the dog, who almost never tires of that game.

Have you ever had a space like this? It’s kind of amazing to think about, which I guess I don’t that often. One of us, or both of us, acknowledge how lucky we are to have this place, every time we’re up here.

The only thing about it that makes me sad at all is the fact that we haven’t shared it with more people. It’s a wonderful place. You should come visit. I’ll put the kettle on.

we've got tonight, babe

2011-11-04T20:47:00.000-06:00

I made some vague promises last night about me in a mask, which I fully intend to keep, but not tonight.

Tonight I've got a little bit of a tickle in my throat, so it's all peppermint tea all the time. In addition to peppermint tea there might have been a Magnum ice cream bar. But really, we're closing down Bumpalot for the winter so these things have to be eaten. Have to. Also it soothes the sore throat, people. Dairy coats the throat. And hey, tomorrow is a new day.

Tonight I'm curled up next to a wood burning stove that's merrily crackling away. It's actually 77 degrees in this room, which is about the temperature that we turn the air conditioner on down in Denver, but 77 degrees in front of the stove is wholly different from 77 degrees from the sun. Somehow.

Tonight I finished a book, which isn't exactly a revelation but it was an ok book. It had well written bits. But it was also set in Denver by someone not from Colorado. She called it "UC-Boulder." If she had had anyone from Denver read the book, she would have been told how wrong that is. I'm not going to link to the book here since I don't want her to hate me. Because I have so many followers that I'm sure it would get back to her. But anyway it's CU-Boulder.

Tonight I am missing good friends who live elsewhere (weighted heavily to the west coast). If I had three wishes (leprechaun or genie) I would use one of them to magic them up here next to this hot fire and hot tea. I'd figure out a way to get them back home again without using an additional wish, in case anyone is worried.

Tonight I'm thinking about all the runners streaming into NYC for the marathon on Sunday. Some year I'll be there. I'm going to keep trying. If not before, then the year I turn 40 I'll have an automatic in, if I've entered the lottery every year but not been selected before then. It's on the bucket list. Eventually I will get there NYC. Bet on it.

Tonight I've got at least four more books in my pile, my newest issues of Runner's World and Cooking Light, and Bridesmaids from Netflix. Hot beverage. Cold ice cream bar. Wool slippers. Snowy mountain out my window. A whole weekend ahead to enjoy it.

Tonight is good, folks. Gimme five until tomorrow.

Up high:

Down low:

some things are better left unsaid

2011-11-03T23:06:00.000-06:00

And unfortunately for all three of you, those are all the things I've got on my mind. It's late, and I've got to go run tomorrow with a big ol' mask on my face (more on this tomorrow). So I'll just show you some pretty shiny things and leave it at that.

I know you're not supposed to play favorites, and truthfully all my medals have their place on my wall of racing, but I do have a few favorites.

Read more »

confession time

2011-11-02T21:10:00.000-06:00

I bet you're wondering how Operation Swimsuit is going. You're probably sitting there right now with your coffee in one hand and your leftover Halloween candy in the other, and pondering the vagaries of my most recent weight loss endeavor.

No?

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cinque terre

2011-11-01T10:34:00.003-06:00

I was toying with the idea of doing some posts about places we've traveled, in part because I'm going to try that NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) thing again, and in part because I've not talked much about it (although I always mean to), and it's a big part of our lives. Then last night I heard about the flooding in Cinque Terre, and my heart broke. This is such a beautiful region of Italy. The people were lovely, and each town was really special.

From Wikipedia:

The Cinque Terre is a rugged portion of coast on the Italian Riviera. It is in the Liguria region of Italy, to the west of the city of La Spezia. "The Five Lands" is composed of five villages: Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. The coastline, the five villages, and the surrounding hillsides are all part of the Cinque Terre National Park and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The floods have devastated Monterosso al Mare and Vernazza completely, cars pushed into the first floor of buildings by the force of the mud and water.

Vernazza October 2010

Vernazza post-flood (source)

Vernazza October 2010


Vernazza post-flood (source)


Monterosso October 2010


Monterosso post flood (source)

For more images of the flood, you can check out this slideshow.

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team bump!

2011-10-20T14:09:00.000-06:00

I sadly don't have any pictures of these shirts in the wild, but here are the shirts I got for my spectators to wear in Portland and beyond.

Happily they can function as shirts for future events, even to support other Bumps in their spectator-worthy adventures. I ordered them from CustomInk.com and I really thought they were good quality, although still on the pricey side for a t-shirt. They would have been cheaper if I'd bought more of them, but I can always order more later, and I'm doubting the demand will be extreme. I went for the cheapest of cotton t-shirts, although hoodies would have been a better bet given the weather. Even my dad wore one. It was was super cute on him. I think I'll make him my future model.

up next down the pike

2011-10-19T12:00:00.000-06:00

You probably aren't asking yourself any of these questions this morning, but I have, so I thought I'd share my answers.

Marathon again? I'm still chasing that sub 5 hour marathon. Honestly, I'm so keyed up about it right now I wish I could run one tomorrow to try again. I'm not sure that would be helpful or successful, but that's how I feel. I'm itching to go again. But the reality is that I absolutely need to lose some weight if I want to get faster. The speedwork and tempo runs I tried to use to get faster injured me. And that's likely because I'm carrying 15-20 pounds more than I should. (Before you object to that number, please re-visit horror show photos the race.) If 10 pounds can give me nine minutes off my marathon finish time, then I should try very hard to lose 10 pounds. But next time I think I'll be doing a spring marathon again. Training in the winter has its flaws, but I think I'm better with cold weather running that hot. I just seem to fall apart in the heat.

Sea level marathon? Most definitely. Of all the things that were a struggle, breathing wasn't among them. It was nice. It didn't give me a huge advantage time-wise, but it makes running feel so much easier. I went for a "shake out" run on Thursday before the marathon, and it was the best run I think I've ever had. Just 3 miles but I felt like I was floating rather than running. It was a beautiful thing. Having said that, never underestimate the course profile. I knew there was a hill from mile 16-17, but until we drove the course on Saturday I failed to grasp the steepness of that hill. It was on par with parts of the Leadville Heavy Half. It wasn't steepish. It was STEEP. And it was the beginning of the end, because that's where I started walking. And once I start walking, it's walk/run from then on.

Larger marathon? I absolutely loved all of the spectators and support for this race, and even all of the company along the way with other runners. I didn't chat a lot with other runners other than to bitch about the weather a couple of times, but it's nice just being out there with other people at your relative pace. It's a trade off because it was nearly impossible for David to figure out where to meet me, and apparently there was a long of cursing and u-turning the car to get to mile 19. Would I rather see lots of people with great signs yelling my name and ringing cowbells for complete strangers, or would I rather see my husband three or four times along the course? Of course I would prefer both, but he can't be with me all the time. He goes by in a couple of seconds, whereas in a big race you are never really alone.

What now? I always get the post-race-no-training-plan blues. This time, however, I'm implementing Operation Swimsuit in preparation for our trip to Belize. (Did I tell you that we're going to Belize in January? We're going to Belize in January.) What that means is that I need to be jiggling that thigh until it jiggles off. I've given myself this week to come down off the marathon, not exercising one single little bit. Then we're back to counting calories, and burning 400-600 calories per day in cardio for the next three months. I'm also going to be doing a whole lot of lunges and squats, based on those race photos, I'll tell you that. I'm ~~hoping to~~ planning on losing 10 pounds by January 11th. That's 90 days, almost precisely. Twelve-ish weeks. That's less than a pound a week. I can do this. The other goal of this is obviously to lose weight so that I can speed up, and hurt less.

I've run one race each month for the last 12 months. I was planning on racing once a month this year for a 12 in 12 thing, but I'm not sure if I'll do any more races this year. Maybe a couple of 5Ks, but honestly I'm not even sure I want to do those. I love racing, but I'm tired of the interruption it adds to my training for a longer race. I've run six half-marathons this year. That's crazy. But also what's crazy is that my times haven't gotten significantly better. Which tells me that racing isn't the same as training, and I need to be working more on the latter. It's hard, though. I get emails for races and I get the itch to register. It's difficult to resist, especially when a medal is involved.

The other thing I want to do is volunteer for a race or two. I always feel so grateful to the volunteers, but in the last year I've raced 12 different events, and 12 different times complete strangers supported me, cheered for me, congratulated me just because I had entered a race. They don't get paid for it, and the certainly don't get thanked adequately for it. It's a wonderful thing to do and I want to pay that forward. I also hear stories from Mr. Bump or other people who've come out to watch me race about seeing the whole race, rather than just the bit I'm in, and I would love to see that. It's hard to appreciate it as a great feat when you're in it--you're just slogging through. But I think it will be obvious from the sidelines.

I actually emailed the people who run the Winter Distance Series, which I ran last year. If you volunteer, they give you free entry into one of their races, so that's kind of awesome. I'm excited, even if it means standing out in the cold all morning on a Saturday in December, January, or February.

I'm thinking about some yoga classes, and maybe joining a running group. Just to mix things up. I've never been a social runner, or for that matter a exercise class person, but maybe both will help. Neither is like a blood oath, so I think I'll live even if I hate them. I'm kind of awkward in group settings, and my last attempt at a running group resulted in me taking off on my own at about mile 3, so yeah. Not so good at that. But I do like running with a friend, being able to chat and therefore ignore that self-defeating voice in my head and also whatever body part is cranky.

My main focus right now is dropping some weight, which began on Monday and let me tell you, I forgot how much this sucks. The first week is always the worst, and after that your body stops screaming "FEED ME WOMAN!" And the other part is that you sort of get consumed by it. You're constantly calculating when and what you can eat. That gets easier eventually, too after you've been at it a bit and your routine gets settled. I have chosen the hardest three months of the year to attempt weight loss, but I've done it before, and I know I can do it again.

Blogging
I'm going to start chronicling all this a little closer here, for my benefit if no one else's. Dieting can be such a struggle and a slog, so I'm sure you'll be interested in it's minutiae. See you soon.

What's the hardest part of the day when you're dieting? Any tips/tricks?

The hardest part for me is the afternoon at work. I bring my breakfast and lunch most days, so the gremlins don't generally come out until 1:30, and then they start shouting "FEED ME WOMAN! I'm bored! I'm stuck in this chair. Reward, please. Gimme gimme gimme." Also going out to dinner can be a disaster. It's so easy to blow it without knowing it. But I try to look online and figure out what I can eat before we leave the house.

My tricks/tips are peppermint tea, gum, and evening exercise. If I exercise after dinner, I've got to take it easy or I'll vomit. Built in governor.

share and compare

2011-10-17T21:47:00.000-06:00

I promise, I promise, I will stop talking about the marathon soon. Soon is not yet, however. I was curious to see how my stats compared from this marathon versus the Colorado Marathon. As luck would have it, Garmin has a comparison widget. You can click on the images to make them bigger if you actually want to look at the data.

God bless statistics. While in no way shape or form do they demonstrate a dramatic improvement, they do show improvement. I would also like to note that the first 14 miles of the Colorado Marathon were mostly downhill, while there was a 200 foot elevation climb in the first 4 miles of the Portland marathon. And I'm pretty proud of my miles 25 split in Portland. It's just nice to see that the improvement is consistent.

In other news, I finally managed to drag my ass out for a run today. It wasn't pretty, but it happened. Now I just need to figure out what I'm doing next.

portland marathon race recap

2011-10-15T17:15:00.001-06:00

*Warning--this may be my longest blog post ever, but I wanted to get this down before I forgot some of it. If you've heard enough about the Portland Marathon from me, come back tomorrow.* The race photos went up this morning, a bit ahead of schedule. But the quality is kind of horrible. However, I'm not purchasing them for the exorbitant fees they charge, even for the jpegs. So they'll give you some brushstrokes, but probably not much else.

Pre-race
The race started at 7:00, so I woke up at 5, had some bread and chocolate almond butter, a cup of coffee. The forecast seemed to settle on an hour of rain/showers between 6-7, and just cloudy after that. It didn't start raining until about 8:00, and then it rained off and until about noon. So that was spot on, Weatherman! Thanks! I opted for compression socks and a skirt, although after having seen the race photos I probably should have gone with capri tights or compression shorts. Green was a good choice for visibility, I think. I'm also glad I wore a hat because the rain/sweat dripped off it pretty continuously after about mile 8 or so.

Mr. Bump walked me to the starting line, which was about 12 blocks from our hotel, snapped a couple of photos and then wandered off to the starting line in hopes of seeing me there. Luckily, he did.

Starting line - Mile 1 10:35.2

Mile 2 - 10:58.6/Mile 3 - 11:12:1
These first few miles start off a gradual uphill. You go through Portland's pretty Chinatown gate, down to the waterfront (where I saw Mr. Bump again, but I was so far ahead of where he thought I'd be that he didn't have a chance to get a picture of me). Then the course climbs through about Mile 3. I managed to spot my cousin and her family at around Mile 3, just outside their hotel. Though I was heading uphill, and you can see it in my mile 3 split, I was just cruising. Mile 1 seemed a bit fast, but I was on target for 2-3, feeling good. At this point in the race you have so far to go, it's best to just soak up what's going on around you ignore the fact that you're running. There will be time enough for that later.

Mile 4 - 10:22:0/Mile 5 - 10:38:1/Mile 6 - 10:34:5

At mile 4.5 you turn around and head back toward downtown. This was where it started to spit, then rain for the first time. We saw a couple of bands along here (there were supposedly something like 84 bands on the course), including a marimba group playing above us on a pedestrian walkway. Lots of people in the neighborhood were out with their coffee cheering us on and watching the, as we saw on several signs, such as: "Most Boring Parade Ever." This part is back along the waterfront and heading toward the industrial area. I picked up some speed on the downhills but it didn't feel like I was pushing too hard. In retrospect, I was. I never should have had a 10:22 split. In this section we passed by a homeless tent camp under a bridge and the smell was horrible.

Mile 7 - 10:38.6/Mile 8 - 10:39.4
I was around the 4:45 pace group at this point, so I thought I'd just hang with them, which I managed more or less until mile 15. I was pushing pretty hard in the first half, and I could feel it in my legs. But I reasoned that I was supposed to be pushing the pace, this was the race, after all. But I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain it. That should have been my clue to pull back. I saw a couple in camp chairs who had laid a raincoat down on the ground for their pit bull to curl up on, then draped it over his back to keep him warm.

Mile 9 - 10:55.4/Mile 10 - 10:46.2
The first (second?) turnaround. It was at this point that I could finally see if anyone was still behind me. The next two miles allowed me to feel a little better about my pace, given the amount of runners, and eventually walkers, still coming toward us. It rained all along here, but thankfully we didn't get stopped for any trains. We cross probably 10 sets of tracks along here, and it happens frequently that runners get stopped, but we didn't. Someone I saw at breakfast the next morning said they got stopped for 15 minutes, but they were run/walking and didn't particularly care about their time. I think they said they clocked in around 6:30. I remember actual cheerleaders along this point. Tiny little middle school cheerleaders.

Mile 11 - 10:47:2/Mile 12 - 11:01.9/Mile 13 (halfway!) - 10:40.8
My memory of these miles was that there were lots of spectators, but knowing probably none of them would be for me. I always hold out a little hope that I'll be surprised, but no dice. Lots of great signs along this section. "I'm proud of you, complete stranger!" and "Your feet hurt because you're kicking so much asphalt/butt/etc." My feet weren't hurting yet but I was feeling it in my calf muscles and my quads. You run through some neighborhoods in mile 10-12, there were a few bands along the course, aid stations, all a rainy smeary blur. I realized it was probably going to be just this wet the rest of the way (which was almost true). My spectators never got rained on, but then they were parked at Sugar Mama's inhaling a crazy-good breakfast. The didn't believe me when I said it rained almost the whole time when I saw them at the finish line.

Mile 14 - 11:01:1/Mile 15 - 11:02.8/Mile 16 - Checkpoint Charlie/The Hill - 11:37.5
Even though you realize at this point you're halfway, what you're feeling physically is that you can't possibly do this many miles all over again. For me I knew the hardest part of the course was coming up, that crazy steep hill you have to run up before going across St. John's bridge. I spent these miles trying to run under the cover of the trees to get out of the rain, and eyeing the bridge when I could see it in the distance, thinking how impossibly far away it seemed, and knowing I still had 9 miles yet to run after I got there.

For whatever reason, there are no race photos between the starting line and mile 17. Which I find just bizarre. Also my family was still leisurely consuming their from all accounts very delicious breakfast, with pancakes and homemade sausages. It was all very cruel now that I think about it. I was trying to keep my body temperature up and eating Gus every 4-5 miles. What is wrong with me? I kept thinking.

There was also a guy dressed in drag like a 20s flapper girl along here. He/she must have been racing, however, because this was just after what they call "Checkpoint Charlie" where they make sure you have a timing chip and race bib on or you can't continue on the course.

Mile 17 - The Bridge - 12:59.4

This was a really tough mile, one of the slowest, too. It was rainy, there was a wet breeze coming off the river as we went over it, and I was out of Gatorade. You can actually see me trying to locate Mr. Bump and my folks as I came off the bridge in that second picture. But they, much like a water/aid station, were not to be found until mile 19. When you get up that hill and onto the bridge, you think that it's going to be downhill soon, but that damned bridge is very long and half of it is still climbing. The weatherman was burned in effigy by us 5 hour marathoners on the bridge.

Mile 18 - 11:46.5 Frantically searching for something to drink, or someone I knew on this section. There were neither. The course profile appears to be all downhill from the end of the bridge to the very last half mile, but there was an uncharted hill after the initial downhill from the bridge. There was cursing involved. Also some walking. All I wanted was something to drink and to see my spectators in their Team Bump shirts. (Oh yes, I had shirts made. They are fabulous. I will share photos later.)

It was around here I also saw the best spectator sign EVER, held by a little blond boy of about 3. It said "My head was in the 99th percentile. You got this, Mom!" I laughed out loud.

Mile 19 - First Parental Sighting - 12:24.5

I finally saw Mr. Bump and my parents, and managed to swap out my empty bottle for a full one. I also took the opportunity to chuck the iFitness belt that I bought at the expo to carry my cell phone, because I just couldn't seem to get it to stay put, probably because I was sopping wet. I'll try it again but it chafed me somewhat, mostly because I couldn't get it to stay on my hips. Seeing my family and offloading some gear a boost I needed, but it didn't last for long.

Mentally I had this notion that once I got over the hill and the bridge, it would be all downhill and easier and I wouldn't hit the wall and that rainbows and unicorns would come shooting out of my ~~ass~~ running shoes. I wasn't prepared for how very long the last 6 miles were going to be. And I suffered for it.

Mile 20 - 12:45.2

Somewhere around here I began to feel my body and my mind separate from each other. I felt like they sort of uncoupled like two train cars, and while they were both traveling the same direction, they weren't really paying much attention to each other. I had fantasy conversations with other runners. I got fixated on a guy who's shirt said "I Am Sofa King..." and then had a list of sentence ends like "sweaty" and "awesome" and "my wife after this." I spent a good 3/4 of a mile trying to think up other ways to end that sentence. I spent a lot of time scrutinizing the runners around me, what they were wearing, their gaits and socks and oh, just about anything. I felt like I was at a distance from all the spectators, all the other runners, myself. Also like I was sort of in slow-motion. Probably I was somewhat energy depleted and my brain was just working triage on the body and didn't have time to entertain me. It was weird, that's for sure.

I never had any problems with my GI on this race, and I never needed a pottie break either, which is normal for me. I did have a tough time opening up my gus and I don't think I kept up adequately with the fuel. I was trying to plan them for water stations, but I'd forget until I was out of water. I also kept meaning to wipe my face off to clear the salt off it at each water stop, but I kept forgetting that too. My brain gets very forgetful when I'm racing. It doesn't have much short-term memory.

Mile 21 - 13:15.6/Mile 22 - 12:04.2/Mile 23 - 11:57.0/Mile 24 - 13.09.8
This is where the wheels came off the bus and I felt like I let everyone down. Remember how I said I was going to dedicate these miles to thinking about people in my life that I found inspiring and/or supportive? I apparently am really bad at math because I didn't list anyone for mile 22-23. I therefore spent miles 20-23 trying to figure out who the hell I was supposed to be thinking of. But I also spent a lot of these miles alternating between running and hurting and thinking about walking, and then walking and hurting in different places and trying to gear back up to running again. I felt bad for the people I was supposed to be using as "inspiration" because these splits were anything but inspiring.

Still, I kept moving, even though I kept forgetting that I was on mile 22 instead of 23 (so disappointing). These are the "never again" miles, when you're sure that you will never run another marathon. They're also the miles where the 5:00 hour pace group caught up to me, then passed me at a water station. They were in my line of sight until about 24, when you cross back over the river. That was the point at which my goals began to shift back to "finish and not die." I was trying to do math at this point to figure out exactly how much further I had to go and if I really was going to miss a sub 5:00 marathon. I'm useless at math on the best of days, so I had no idea.

I did think, more than once, as a way to get myself back running, that this was the walk break I was going to regret later. That got me going again every time.

Mile 25 - 11:19.8 (negative split!) Around this time I realized if I didn't have too much further to go, and if I picked up the pace, I might actually finish sub 5 hours. Hence the negative split. Actually, this is the pace I should have run every mile. But it felt like a hurry after the last five slow run/walk miles. There is some good downhill on this part too, so I opened it up as best I could. The fact that I was able to run this mile faster lets me know that I could have run some of the previous 5 faster, if I had mentally been around.

Mile 26 - 12:00.3

Misery is the best way to describe this face. Until you round this corner, you really have no idea how much further you have to go. People keep screaming at you that "you're almost there!" which is the most useless piece of shit encouragement. I think this was 25.9 or so, so really only .3 miles left to go. But until you can see the finish line, it's really hard to know you're close, but you can't see quite how close you are to finishing. I also knew my watch was off the official course markers, so even though I could tell how far I'd come, I couldn't do the math on how much further I had to go. If there was a final 800 meters sign, I never saw it. I also didn't see my father waving his baseball cap at me over the barricades. I was just focused on holding on to it. I so badly wanted to stop and walk, but there was some serious shame in that so I kept running.

26.0-26.4 (my Garmin's official distance) - 5:37.8 (but I forgot to stop my watch right away, so a bit off)
Net time: 5:02:43 (official)
Average pace: 11:26/mile

I only vaguely remember putting my hands up here, but it makes for a nice picture so I'm glad I did.

Post-race
After finishing I was really impatient to get my medal and space blanket and get moving again. After being in motion for that long it's really hard to just stop and wait in a line (no matter how short) to get your medal. Also, apparently my blood sugar was nonexistant because I was ready to shove some other poor finisher out of the way to get my medal. I was completely soaked to the skin by the time I finished, so that space blanket was great. Although it was sort of sweat under it, freeze out of it. I've seen in other races that they tape them on like a cape, which would have been helpful because of all the other stuff I was going to need my hands for. Upon reflection, perhaps there were some bags somewhere, but they weren't in my line of sight.

The finisher's chute for this race was an effort to load you down with a bunch of stuff when you can barely grip anything at this point. Medal, space blanket, rose, comemerative coin, pendant, long sleeve t-shirt, and tree seedling. For some reason I insisted on a hot pink (not pale pink) rose from the poor girls gripping thorny roses. Why I cared, I have no idea. But I distinctly remember thinking that I'd just finished an f*cking marathon and I deserved the color of rose I wanted.

Not to mention the fact that there is tons of food. And you really would like to eat (or at least grab some of it), but your hands are full of things you can't eat. As I was heading from the roses to the food, the road seemed to slant one direction and a race volunteer angel descended from a cloud in front of me, asking me if I was all right. I assured her I was fine, it was the street that seemed to be slanted to the left. She nodded, gripped me around the shoulders and said "Let's get you some juice." Once I had a little cup of juice, and she was assured that I wasn't going to fall over, she waved vaguely in the direct of the medical tent in case I needed it and used her angel wings to flutter over to the next delirious finisher.

I got orange and grape juice, a string cheese (I heard some older gentleman saying "how do you get this thing open?") a half a banana, a frozen fruit bar, and a fistful of redvines, pretty much at random. Although I really wanted that fruit bar. They also had mini candy bars, bags of chips, quarters of bagels, oranges, grapes, gingersnaps (should have got some of those), other cookies. A ton of food. I ran out of room to put stuff so I just gave up. And then they handed me the pendant and the coin in little velvet pouches. Then I really was out of room. At that point the street was sort of tipping again, and I just wanted to find my family. The reunion area was really really far away, probably 3/4 of a block from where you exit the finisher's chute. Yes, I had just run 26.2 miles so an extra 2-3 blocks of finisher's chute to reunion area was really too long.

Thankfully my last name starts with A, so my little band of merry spectators was waiting at the head of the reunion area. And let me tell you, it was the best part of the whole day to see them and the smiles on their faces. I wish I had been lucid enough to get photos of that. It was wonderful. So much better than any of my armloads full of race schwag. Mr. Bump became my official holder-upper, and while I now regret that he to NO photos of me after the race, it sure felt good to have someone's arm around my shoulder at the time.

We walked to the car, said goodbye to my family who came down from Washington, and made it back to the hotel and into a very long, very hot shower. Later we went to lunch at Burgerville and then over to Powell's Bookstore (somewhere along the course I promised myself that as a reward for finishing) but I couldn't even think about what I wanted to look at or buy and my feet were throbbing so I cut the visit short. I rested in the late afternoon but didn't nap, and we went to bed early. That was pretty much it.

I finished. I didn't get sick, didn't have any blisters, although I got a wicked chafe from my heart rate monitor because of how wet I was. I didn't hit all my goals but I did hit some. I'm calling it a win. I'll save my thoughts and future goals for another post. Sorry this is so long. If you got all the way to the end of it, then I owe you a medal. Leave me your address in the comments section.

the waiting is the hardest part

2011-10-14T12:00:00.000-06:00

Pictures from the race still haven't posted on the Portland Marathon's website (and it sounds like they won't be until Tuesday), but hopefully this will tide you over. Mr. Bump didn't get very many pictures of me because it was crazy packed and just hard. They would be searching the crowd for me, and by the time they saw me, there wasn't time to snap a picture. Because I'm just that fast.

Here's one from the start line, just before I entered the F corral (ominous?) and the porta-pottie line that would kill 20 minutes between when Mr. Bump and I parted company and when the race started.

It was kind of chilly but not too bad. I was amazed at the amount of clothing people kept on. I was expecting to see a lot of clothing get shucked, based on what people were wearing, but I saw runner's near the finish line with jackets and layers! I went with short sleeves, running skirt, compression knee-highs. I thought that I was going to have some chafing issues as I kept needing to adjust at the start, but once I got going everything seemed to settle down and behave itself.

This one is kind of a where's Waldo deal. See if you can spot me, based on what you know I'm wearing from above.

As always, there's some old geezer in my way. Take a good look at my thigh, because that's the best shot of it you're going to see. And then brace yourself.

*Moment of silence for my body image*

Man is that terrible. I'm sure there are more of those to come in the official race photos.

Anyway. Moving on!

The Portland Marathon collects a whole bunch of data from the timing chip, and uses it in a matrix to show you all kinds of cool (or depressing) information about your race, and how it relates to everyone else's. Like this:

It shows your gun time, chip time, and where you placed. I love how it tells you how many runners you passed, and how many passed you, in the final 6.2. Not too shabby, considering the out of body experience I was having at that point. In the top 2/3rds of finishers, middle of the pack for my gender. I'm amazed there were only 8402 finishers. Supposedly 15,000 people had registered. Where were they?

Then it also shows you your pace and speed per mile/km. It's kind of hard to see the "Your Finish" but it basically shows you who/how many people finished before you/after you (also shows their names and division/sex). You can scroll forward and back to see who finished ahead or behind you. The different colors are for men/women/runners in my division. I like seeing all those guys behind me. :)

This one shows (yellow arrow) where I was on the course when the winner crossed the finish line.

That's mile 12.


Where I was when the Female Winner crossed the finish line.

Winner of F35-40 division

You can also input someone else's bib number and find out where they were in relationship to you. Which would be very cool if I had known anyone else running this race. You can also see in the "Section MPH" area, that my mph deteriorated in the last half, and especially in the last 6.2.

I am still gathering my thoughts about the race itself, but this one was definitely a different experience than the last marathon. The size of the race and the number of spectators aside, it just felt different. I was somewhat fractured in my preparation, both physically because of nagging injuries, and mentally because we were traveling with my parents. I just never really had time to sit down and puzzle out my race plan. I had a vague idea of when I was going to take my gels, which wasn't correlative to water stations. I winged it on hydration, bring some gatorade but also drinking the course drink and water. While it was painful and exhausting, there were times when I definitely felt the physical and the mental uncouple. It wasn't exactly an out of body experience, but that's the closest term I can think of to describe it. I couldn't get myself to even sprint to the finish line because despite yelling at myself to, I wasn't able to reach down to wherever the mental/physical handoff happens. I would think it, but my thoughts didn't translate for my body. It was weird, I'll tell you that.

More later...once those race photos come out. Then I can give you a mile by mile play by play.

this post is brought to you by the number ten

2011-10-13T09:19:00.000-06:00

I've got some deep thoughts and revelations from the marathon that I'd like to share, but I'll save that for my next post (coming soon!). Today, I'd like to talk about Mr. Bump. Warning--it's about to get all schmaltzy up in here.

It's been ten years since I married this guy.

We've been to a lot of places. Seen a lot of things. Eaten a lot of ice cream. I'm a lucky girl.

I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I'm not always the easiest person to be with. I'm grouchy when my blood sugar is low. I'm argumentative. I'm emotional and dramatic. I spend too much money at Target and I've been known to eat the fun size Butterfinger Mr. Bump was saving for himself. I always want to talk, I'm overly fond of asking my husband what he is doing, which I happen to know annoys him greatly, but I can't seem to help. It's like a reflex. But Mr. Bump is very patient. He knows when to hand me a snack, when to listen to me rant, and when to shut the rant down before I spiral out of control. He is superb at not rolling his eyes when I'm channeling Crazy Lady.

Of course my husband presents his own set of challenges. But marriage is signing up for each other's crazy, and hoping it doesn't show up every day.

We've spent all but a handful of nights together in that 10 years. He's been there for me, every day, literally through thick and thin. We fight sometimes, but not that often. But even if you don't fight, it can be hard sometimes in the day to day slog of dirty dishes and shoes not put away (always mine) to remember to cherish each other. Every day is a choice. Every compliment you give, every hand held, every kiss is a choice. That's what I've learned after 10 years. That's my marriage advice. Cherish each other, even when it isn't easy. Choose each other, over the argument you're having, over being "right," over all the things that will slowly, silently push you apart. I know you've heard it, I know it's cheesy (I warned you!), but love is a verb. It's work.

No matter what's going on in our lives or our marriage, our deal is always kiss me goodnight. And it works for us.

I'd be lost without him. Every day I'm grateful that he chose me, that he continues to choose me.

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Bump. It seems like just yesterday I was breaking into the church with my bridesmaids because I couldn't wait to marry you.

5:02:43

2011-10-09T23:24:00.002-06:00

No sub 5 hour marathon, but a PR. And darned close. I also think I shook up my babymaking parts so that whole having kids discussion may be moot. It was an interesting day. I got as close as I could, but I just didn't make it under 5 hours. I think I'm happy but right now all I am is tired. More later.

me against the marathon

2011-10-05T11:40:00.004-06:00

Your heroine

vs.


26.2 glorious miles

In these conditions

The bags are packed, the boarding passes are in hand. All training that is to be done has been done. All that's left to do now is make sure I'm properly hydrated and my liver is all filled up with glycogen goodness. I think I can handle it. The scale this morning claims my liver weighs 2 more pounds than it did last week. Unless that's all water weight. Hm.

Actually, there is one last bit of training I need to do now, and aside from Mr. Bump and I herding ~~cats~~ my parents around northern Oregon. And that's getting my game face on. I've got a variety of goals for this marathon, which is partly why I'm so keyed up.

A goal: A 4:45 marathon. Is this realistic given my training? Probably not, but if all the stars align, I might have it in me. It's my might-just-be-out-of-reach goal.

B goal: A 4:59:xx marathon. My main goal is to break 5 hours. My previous marathon time was 5:03, and I believe I can break that 5 hour barrier, barring any major ~~crap~~ disasters. There will be pacers for this marathon, and although my previous experience with pacers wasn't great, if I can keep myself between the 4:45 and 5:00 pacers, I'll be in the sweet spot.

C goal: A 5:02:xx marathon. If something goes awry, and I can't gain back a couple of minutes, I would really like to beat my previous marathon time.

D goal: Finish this mother. Really, this is primary. Given the challenges of this training cycle, I just want to git ma giddy up and hold my medal up. I just freestyled that right there. Next career: rap star, yo.

Beyond setting out my goals ahead of time, the mental preparation is also all about making a sort of plan and visualizing how that's going to look.

I plan on running the first 17 or so miles except for water stops, and then assess how I'm feeling at that point as to whether I want to switch to run/walk or just keep after it. If I switch to run walk, I'll shoot for 5/1 intervals.
Mr. Bump and I are trying to make a spectator plan as well, places where they'll try to be so I can look for them. There are going be something like 14,000 runners in this bad boy, so there's a good chance we could miss each other all together. We'd all be disappointed to come all this way and not have the opportunity to connect, but I have to face that as a possibility, and mentally be prepared to run the whole distance on my own. With 13,999 other people.
Speaking of other people, I really want to try very hard not to get caught up in the start surge and run those first couple of miles too fast. This is hard for every runner, and while I've been guilty of it in the past, I know that I can also slow down and take the first few easy.
I'm also experimenting with a mantra or two: I've always loved Haruki Murakami's: Pain is inevitable, misery is optional. I've actually got a headband with those words on it, which I might be wearing for the marathon. Other options are
Those last 6.2 miles. I'm going to try and dedicate each of those last six miles to someone who has supported me, helped me along and been my cheerleader. I've got three pros already lined up, who I hope to see along the way.

My two friends whose names both start with Chris. I've raced with both of them, and had so much fun with both of them. While I'm hating miles 20-22, I'm going to try to think about the smiles on their faces while I was pushing them both to sprint at the end of those races.

Mom gets mile 23-24. Pretty much don't have to explain this one to anyone who has ever met my mom, but in case you haven't, I'll just leave you with this picture. Also she's the designated worrier for Team Bump, so I have nothing to worry about--she's on top of it.

That guy in the matching sweatshirt is my dad. Mile 24-25 is really hard. You want so badly to quit, even though you're almost done. Your body is wrecked (pain is inevitable, misery is optional) and every step feels like the toughest step you've ever taken. My father has broken many bones, fallen several stories, flown through the windshield of his pickup truck, fallen down a well, and had so many stitches we've stopped keeping track. At almost 77, he's still a badass. If he can shrug off pain and keep at it, then I can cowboy up that mile. I'm going to be picturing him marching behind me shoving me toward the finish line. That'll work for me.

Mr. Bump gets mile 25-26. He's been to all but a handful of my races, and he's always there after a hot run with a big glass of ice water and a fan, or a mug of cocoa after a snowy, chilly one. He always, every time, no matter whether it's a 3-miler or a 21 miler, asks me how my run went. I never could have gotten to a point in my life where I was running a marathon without him.
Don't worry, I didn't forget that last 2/10ths of a mile, which is without question the most difficult .2 miles EVER. The person I hope to be thinking about, through the hazy stupor that comes from being able to see the finish line,is my littlest running partner, A. He runs because it's fun and most of the time when he does, he's giggling (although that might be because I'm chasing him...hm). And I'm sure I'm going to need that reminder right about then. Because really, shouldn't it always be this fun?

And have no fear. I'll probably be thinking about you somewhere between miles 1 and 20. I'm sure you'll come up. Thanks for reading all the way to the end of this ramble. I'll be back, hopefully before Sunday. In case you're dying to know how this all plays out, you can real time track my progress via this link on race day. My bib no. is lucky #6523.

crap

2011-09-30T08:28:00.003-06:00

No one can say that RAIN in Portland is a big surprise for race day. But a girl could hope.

2:20:17 *PR!

2011-09-20T17:30:00.000-06:00

Finally got that PR in the half marathon, even if it was only a 11 second PR--I'll take it! Finished up the day with another 8 on top of the half, for a final long run of 21 miles before tapering. Let the taper begin! I've been so stressed about getting back into training after the foot pain and back pain that the taper portion of this training cycle snuck up on me. Two weeks from tomorrow Mr. Bump and I (and my sweet parents) head out to Portland. Nineteen days and counting until I PR in PDX.

The rockstar next to me was Jean, who ran her first half on Sunday! She rocked it for 2:39:20 finish. We ran step for step for the first eight miles or so, before we parted ways at an aid station. But I saw her heading for the finish line as I headed out for my extra eight. So proud of her!

The race (Crossroads Half Marathon) was small but had great support (fabulous photographers!), particularly the free GUs and the snowcones at the finish line. Race directors take note--snowcones at the finish are the Bomb!

Friday five things x two = lots of woe

2011-09-02T12:30:00.002-06:00

Back still hurts, but it is better. Standing for long periods of time is out (so glad I have to decorate a WEDDING CAKE in the next two days!), but I can walk ok if I'm not carrying anything, and sitting is fine. When I wake up in the morning, I'm pain free.
I saw the doctor on Monday and she says that since the pain is intermittent it is probably muscular (spasms) and can be handled with ibuprofen and muscle relaxants. Muscle relaxants are the shit. I'm awake for about an hour, and then I slide sideways no matter what I'm doing. Best to just leave those for overnight consumption. And that's when I'm cutting a pill in half.
I'm making a wedding cake for someone to be delivered tomorrow at 3:30. I am living for 5:00 on Saturday. It seems like there is so much potential for me to end up on Cake Wrecks in the near future. Hold me.
I paid off my student loans on Monday. Paid. In. Full. I've only been paying on them since 1998. I feel so free. And richer.
Marathon is in 37 days. Hold me.
I have gone through the five stages of grief this week, but ultimately I've settled for anger. I refuse to let this injury get the better of my plans, and all the time I've put in to training. I'm mad at my body, I'm mad at my training plan (because this is its fault), I'm mad at the weather for making training so hard. I HATE summer marathon training. But I'm fighting mad.
I'm very tired of reading running blogs where everyone is Running! Lots! of Miles! and I feel like a failure because of the injuries and time I've had to take off from running. It makes me feel really really bad. I know it isn't like I'm just being lazy, but it feels like it's my own fault and I've failed at training. (I had this listed as No. 10 but I just can't finish on this note.)
I applied for a credit card on Sunday night, and I've yet to get an email from them. Should I be worried? I haven't checked the mailbox in a few days, though, so who knows?
I can finally, FINALLY get my hair in the stumpiest of ponytails/pigtails. It's only taken me almost a year to grow my hair out this long.
There will be pizza, alcohol, and a run in my Labor Day weekend, damn it! Not on the same day, perhaps, and not in conjunction with the consumption of muscle relaxants, but still THEY WILL HAPPEN.

right as rain, come again

2011-08-28T17:53:00.001-06:00

Last weekend I was supposed to run my 20 miler, the first of three, but my foot was hurting, so I thought I’d just give it a rest, and hope it got better. It didn’t really get worse, and somewhere along the line I figured the more I focused on it the more it hurt, so just ignoring it was the way to go. So I ran 6 miles on Tuesday and 5 on Friday, did a cross-train day in there and was ready to hit another cross-train day yesterday with a bike ride and set myself all up for a 20 miler today. I was feeling great. I had mopped up the foot issues, the hip was feeling strong. I was ready to go and Sunday the weather was going to be a bit cooler, so Sunday was definitely going to be the 20 mile day.

Then Saturday morning I had the brilliant idea to shave my legs while in the shower. If I’m going to sport running shorts, I like to be considerate to others. So I thought I would ~~clear-cut the forest~~ clean up. This would all have been fine if somewhere around 3/4 of the way through the job my back hadn’t had some sort of spasm, which I could hear, and twanged. Like a guitar string breaking. I could barely straighten up. But I did, and managed to finish shaving. I had to hike my leg up and prop it up on the wall, but at least I’m not a Neanderthal. I did, however, do a mental version of whistling as you walk through the forest at night. It goes something like this “Nothing serious has happened, this is fine, just a little twang, right as rain, nothing to see here, move on.”

It was some A plus wishful thinking, but I decided to just go ahead with the errands I needed to run (aside from running my 20-miler, I’m baking a wedding cake for next weekend, so I had some things to pick up). Even before the first errand to the cake supply store was over, I knew I was in serious trouble. Mr. Bump tried to shore up my spirits with some frozen yogurt, but when I sat down in the REI without buying anything we both knew I was seriously hurting. I spent some portion of Saturday sitting, leaning over, or lying down. Standing is pretty painful, and after about a block or so of walking, my posture is odd and painful, trying to protect my lower back. Mr. Bump suggested I take a Benadryl as a mild muscle relaxer, and gave me a little back massage and put the heating pad on my back. Which was horrid because it was 97 degrees and here I was with a heating pad on my back. But the Benadryl did the trick in terms of letting me get some sleep. I sort of passed out around 8:30 and slept for about 10 hours.

Today I’ve been popping ibuprofen and hobbling around baking cakes, but it wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my Sunday. I keep wondering if I’m playing mind games with myself, a little self-sabotage. But nobody trains for a marathon against their will. And I really want this. I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m not going to be able to run Portland. I’m scared I won’t be able to just shrug this off and run my normal mileage this week. I think this was just a freak thing, not related to my running. It happened to me once years ago when I was bending down to pick a book of the bookshelf. But for whatever reason it happened, it did. And it’s hard to think about running when you can’t even stand up straight or go for a walk to the mailbox without stopping to lean on the rock wall a half a block from home.

This training cycle has been fraught with injuries, none of which have been terribly significant in itself, but the hip, the foot, now the back? It’s ~~beginning to~~ making me doubt my training plan. I know I’m able to do this, so why has it been so hard this time? Too much? Too long? Too fast? Maybe all of those things. The last few weeks I’ve been trying to hold back and get myself feeling good, but it’s made me miss a few runs. And I just keep thinking that I just want to run again. I don’t care how fast it is, and how long it is, I just want to run. It’s frustrating to not feel like I should.

I keep thinking that maybe I should try and go for an experimental trot. That maybe if I just don’t focus on this it won’t prevent me from continuing my training. I can’t even freak out about it, because it feels like if I freak out about it, I’ll be admitting that it’s something serious. And it can’t be something serious. It just can’t. it doesn’t feel broken, just stiff and sore, so I think it will get better. Any second now.

my story

2011-08-19T14:11:00.000-06:00

So I started a "my story" page MONTHS ago, but I finally got around to getting all the pictures up. So if you haven't seen it, check it out here. It's a fun ride through memory lane, complete with yarn hair ribbons, huge bangs and a whole lotta fat me pictures.

Find out how I went from this cuteness...

To this happy but also unhealthy...

To this healthy, happy, and cute...

paparazzi

2011-08-18T12:00:00.002-06:00

It's a good thing that I roll with my own paparazzi because there is nary a race photo of me from the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half.

We left the house at 5:30. And I would've sweated any makeup off anyway.
Gimme a break.

At about 5 miles in--I never saw Mr. Bump,
despite the fact that he was apparently waving and shouting at me.

a matter of seconds

2011-08-15T06:11:00.001-06:00

I went into this weekend’s race, the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon, hoping for a PR. My last PR was at the Platte Half Marathon in April 2010, when I was training for the Colorado Marathon. Something about the really long training runs makes a half seem like such a cake-walk. But I had been having foot/ankle problems throughout the week, and wasn’t having much success with ice and ibuprofen, so I wasn’t very optimistic.

Mr. Bump was nice enough to drive me down to the start from Leadville, waking up at 5 am to get us down to Georgetown before they closed the road (the road to the parking lot was the road the race started on). He was exhausted from an early morning at work the day before (at work around 5:40 am) but like the great Runner Husband he is, we parked in Georgetown near the lake and he slept for a half an hour before I finally decided to line up. The crowd for this half was huge, compared to other races I’ve done. Mostly, I think, because the cost of the race is inexpensive. I signed up in April, for $35.00. This is practically unheard of for a race of 2,500 people, and it explains why they only give out a cotton finisher t-shirt and why there are so many people who run it. This race seemed like it was a crazy amount of racers, but knowing how much larger Portland is going to be, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

It was chilly at the start, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky so I knew it would heat up once the sun hit us. The course sets out with a loop through Georgetown, and at mile 2 you cross under the start line to head downhill toward Idaho Springs. It was at that two mile mark that we finally got out of the shadow of the mountainside and the sun hit us. From about mile three I was hot. It was still only about 8:30 at this point, and it shouldn't have been above 70, but it felt pretty relentless right from mile 3. This was an ongoing factor.

One of the nice things about this particular race was that there would be pacers from a local running club, who ran with a two foot dowel with the projected finish time taped to the top like a flag. I wanted to come in somewhere between 2:15 and 2:20, so I lined up in between. When we started out, the 2:20 pacer seemed to be going fairly slowly, so I moved ahead of her. I hooked up with the 2:15 pacer, and tried to hover just behind him. At some point I got ahead of him, but knew eventually he would catch me. Somewhere along the line he not only caught me, but blew far enough by me that I lost sight of him. From then on it was a battle to stay ahead of the 2:20 pacer, who kept getting closer and closer to me. She finally passed me at around mile 10-11, and I just couldn’t keep up with her. Since I crossed the line a couple of minutes after her, and my chip time was spot-on 2:20, she didn’t keep her promised pace. And that made me feel like shit, even though I knew she was ahead of pace according to my watch.

I did really well in the first half of the race. My 10k split was 1:05:41, beating my fastest 10k time (1:10?). It was hot, my face was really red, and I was beginning to chafe (oh the chafing!). Eventually I ended up grabbing two waters at the 10 mile aid station and dumping them over my head and down my back. I managed to pour some Powerade down one side of me, too, but that was more of a fumble than an intent. Somewhere along here I ran past a poor man who had collapsed on the course, with one person holding up something to shade him from the sun, one person holding his feet up, and one person placing their hand held water bottle behind his head. Not long after I passed him the EMT’s passed heading toward him. People (lots of people) were weaving from one side of the road to the other just to get the little shade offered by the trees on whatever side of the road was shady. Normally people are loathe to run side to side because it adds mileage to your race and doesn’t improve your time. But that’s how hot it felt. There was very little breeze, too. Along the course a woman had placed her sprinkler out in the dirt in front of her house, and we were all veering over to run through it, despite the muddiness. I may have gotten the order of all this wrong, because I can’t remember what came after what—it’s all just kind of a blur of Stuff that Happened. The middle of the course, about 3 or 4 miles of it, are all dirt. In some ways this was ok, in some ways it was harder. I think it was cooler, but the soft dirt and rocky terrain made this section more difficult.

At some point in the middle I realized my foot/ankle wasn’t really hurting, but it seemed to be somewhat numb and tingly. I just sort of shrugged my shoulders at that and kept going. Walking didn’t solve the problem, and it didn’t really make it any harder to run, so I just kept on going. I wore my compression socks since the race was downhill, and that probably did help, ultimately, with whatever foot/ankle/calf problems were nagging at me.

After getting back on the asphalt, the heat felt like hands on my shoulders, pressing me down toward the pavement. The last mile or so was pretty torturous, just really hot, really tired. I was having a hard time keeping running, and in fact in the last 500 meters I kept running, but also thinking “How am I doing this?”

After I finished, I wandered around looking for water (which was another 1/4 mile away—not a good thing GTIS people), gulping down two cups and grabbing a chocolate milk, tottering on my feet and looking longingly at the kiddie pools filled with ice water that people were standing in. But I knew if I took of my shoes I’d never get them back on, and I still had to find my husband in the chaos of the finish line. I knew he would call me and eventually he did, but even the effort of getting my phone out of my hand-held water bottle was difficult. I found out where he was and weaved my way up to him, then realized I hadn’t picked up my finisher’s t-shirt (no medal at this race, just a t-shirt). Got that, got some more water, got a pint glass, some watermelon, and randomly some yogurt. I wasn’t hungry so much as incredibly, unquenchably thirsty. I think I drank about 48 ounces on the course, another 36 or so at the finish line. I would’ve drunk more but they were running out of water by the time I finished. Then I drank a 20 ounce diet soda and a bottle of water on the drive back to Leadville.

I was completely hydrated before the race, even used the porta-pottie once before the start (oh, what a necessary evil they are) and really could have used it again as I lined up at the start, but didn’t really have time and really couldn’t face the porta-potties at that point. They are so nasty just before the race starts and I didn’t want to lose my cookies just before running 13 miles. So yeah, on top of a numb foot, some serious chafing and some mild heat illness, I had to pee the whole time. I didn’t run this race at as even a pace as I ran the Platte Half Marathon. I pushed myself a little too hard and then had to walk a bit on the second half, which ultimately slowed me down and I regret now.

This half taught me some lessons: I need to work on my pacing. I’ve been focusing on speedwork, which I can see has really helped, but I need to do better with the tempo workouts, trying to maintain a speed over a longer distance, 6-8 miles or so. I haven’t gotten it figured out yet, but I’m working on it. Next weekend is the first 20 miler, and I’ll do two more of those if all goes well. My mileage should start inching past the 30 mile mark if I can get all my workouts in. I’ve been struggling with the cross-training and the tempo runs, but I’m determined to have a week where I hit all my workouts. This has been a more aggressive training cycle than the last one, but so much so that I haven’t been hitting all my workouts. I’ve begun to question whether this plan is right for me, but I’m not sure that switching with 7 weeks to go is such a good idea. Other lessons learned include 1) I am not allowed to wear tempo shorts to a race again. I think I probably startled the horses, and it certainly created a chafe situation that has left me with scabby thighs (sorry); 2) that sunscreen should be as close to completely waterproof as possible, because I definitely sweated and watered it off; 3) larger races (this one, at about 2,500 participants was one of the largest I’ve raced in) make it really hard to find anyone else who is racing or who is cheering for you—Mr. Bump saw me at mile 5, but I couldn’t find him; 4) I really want another shot at a half-marathon PR this year.

All in all this was a tough race, but the scenery was beautiful. I probably would have enjoyed it ~~a bit more~~ if it were slightly cooler, but a lot of it was downhill, which always helps, and a couple of small uphills, but nothing major. Of course, after the Leadville Heavy Half, my notion of an uphill is somewhat skewed.

I am very grateful for my wonderful husband, who was there to cheer me on at mile 2, mile 5, and mile 12.8. Thanks for being my chauffeur, my race photographer, and my one man cheering section. No matter the size of the crowd, or whatever medal or t-shirt might be waiting for me, you’re always who I want to see when I cross the finish line. Thank you love, for supporting my crazy hobby.

To end this post on a whimper rather than a bang: my official chip time was…2:20:29.8. Previous PR…2:20:28. Missed it by THAT much. Here are my splits—you can see where I wander off the rails:

Mile 1	10:50
Mile 2	10:23
Mile 3	10:11
Mile 4	10:01
Mile 5	10:33
Mile 6	10:06
Mile 7	10:25
Mile 8	11:06
Mile 9	10:50
Mile 10	11:09
Mile 11	10:43
Mile 12	11:32 (this was a hot mile)
Mile 13	11:06
Mile 13.1	1:31
Garmin Time	2:20:34

i don't think you're ready for this jelly

2011-08-07T22:28:00.003-06:00

Some days (actually LOTS of days) I'm pretty hard on myself. I ran 18 miles today, but I'm still beating myself up about it because it was really hot by 9:30 and I walked way more than I should have. It's very easy to forget how far I've come, I think more so for me than anyone.

From our spring 2005 trip to New Zealand, recently unearthed from the archives by Mr. Bump

Mt. Bierstadt June 2011

It's important, every once in a while, to look back at the path and see how far you've come. Just as important as looking forward toward how far you have yet to go.

tips for training for the Leadville Heavy Half Marathon

2011-07-09T18:49:00.002-06:00

This post is probably not of interest to most of the handful of people that read this blog, but I wish I'd been able to find a training post on this race when I was training, so I thought if I put it out there for some other poor first-timer.

I'll be honest. I kind of floundered around in training for this beast. I wasn't really sure how to approach it. Do I run trails? Do I run hills? Do I run at altitude? Of course the answer ideally is yes to all three. But if you don't live in Leadville or its environs, then it's a little tough to do that.

This race is really in the early summer in the high country. And this year in particular was a snowy, late summer. I tried as best I could to run the course, but got stymied by thigh-deep (or deeper) snow in the first week of June. I had done some hill repeats in Denver before really running the course at all, which seemed hard but like good training, until I ran the course. Then it just seemed like a joke. I found a hill that was 1/4 mile long, and ran it 10 times. But the course is like 15 of those and 15 more that are twice as steep, without the nice downhill intervals in between.

Now I believe that the only way to know how to train is in hindsight. So this is what I should have done, some of which I did, some of which I didn't.

Hike a 14er. Hike as many as you can. It gives you training for up, up, and more uphill, followed by downhill on shaky legs. And you'll get a sense of how altitude works on your brain and system. Plus, most of the final uphill on the course gets walked by all but the badasses. So learning how to keep going even when you feel like crap and you can't breathe is good practice. I did this only once, but it was totally worth it. I'd do two or three more if I did this again.
Take every chance you can get to run on dirt, on rocks, and at altitude. I think I run up here often enough that I know how my body deals with running at 10,000 feet, so running on flat at this altitude isn't a big deal for me, but if you aren't used to it, you need to get some time in up here. Hiking 14ers helps with that as well. I wish I'd been able to run/hike on rocks a bit more. Your ankles have to work really hard and it's a good idea to get a sense of footing.
End your long runs with some downhill training, if you can. Having some practice running downhill on tired legs would have helped me on those last three fire road miles.
I should have run the accessible three miles on the course (as two or three repeats) every single time I came up here, but I didn't. It was nice, however, to not really know what I was in for when the climb really started at about mile 5. I think I would have been disheartened if I had known. Usually I'm the kind of control freak that likes to know everything about a course if I can. But this one wasn't driveable, and I missed my small window (one weekend two weeks before the race) when I couldn't trained on it. In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't know that upper section in detail. But knowing there was a downhill after the first three miles would have been helpful. It's a fine balance between knowing the course and knowing it well enough to dread it, or not enjoy it because yada, yada, yada been here, seen it.
Don't bother with "trail running" on single track trails. I did this two or three times, including the Turquoise Lake Half Marathon, and I absolutely LOVED it. I found myself running along grinning and laughing. But it wasn't helpful for training for this race. This course is all dirt road and rock. Lots and lots of rock. I think I'll save this kind of trail running as a treat for myself. They're the funnest of fun runs.
It was hot, so training in weather (both cold and heat) is helpful. You never know what your going to face up there on the top of the pass. Although this year was great, and no one really needed a jacket or gloves, being able to deal with a 25 degree swing in temperature, especially after sweating the uphill and then that sweat cooling you down on the downhill, is good training to have if you can get it. And generally in April or May, that's about the time you can get that kind of swing in a single day if the weather takes a turn. Which it often does in Colorado.
Buy a Camelbak (I have this one), or some other kind of hydration system. And train with it. I resisted getting one because I thought my back would get sweaty, and it would be heavy and uncomfortable. Yes, my back did get sweaty, but I'm always sweaty anyway. It's super handy, and you don't have to try and plan to refill your water bottle on a 3 hour training run. I saw a lot of people with them, and a lot of people on the course without them. Some carried two handhelds, which just looked weird to me. I had enough problems with my elbow (that was the part of me I had to ice afterwards) as it was, and I wasn't carrying one.
Looking back my main advice would be to get a lot of time in on your feet, up and down. That's not always easy, but getting the miles in is a big part of it. It's kind of "duh" advice, but the only way to train for a mountain is to run it. If you can't get to one, I would suggest spending as much time as you can on your treadmill with the incline cranked up as far as you can go, just walking, or doing run-walk intervals. My calves were screaming after one of these workouts, but I think they built muscle memory in my calves, which helped.
I lost a lot of salts on the uphill since it was so hot. I had some salt tabs but I hadn't used them while training, and I wish I had. I took one at the turnaround point on the pass, but I probably should have started sooner with them. I was having some problems with calf cramping on the way down. My solution was to try and stretch them out as I ran by choosing stones to step on that would flex my foot. Eventually they cut it out, so I don't know if it was the salt finally kicking in or just completing the super steep downhill portion of the event.
Wear sunscreen. Cover yourself head to toe with the stuff, before you put your tank top or shorts or whatever on. I took sunscreen wipes along with me, but they had some spray at the aid station which was a lot easier to just wave all over me than pulling out the wipe. I didn't get a sunburn, but my mom and my mother-in-law did in the time they sat waiting for me. And Mr. Bump missed a spot on one hand that burned. But I didn't.
If When you run it, then I would advise you strongly to take the longest ice bath you can manage afterwards. Go here for a funny how-to. I lasted about 10 minutes (there was screaming involved), but I ended up being sorer in my upper body, probably as a result of the camelbak and lack of full submersion in the ice bath. *Shudder*

This probably isn't the advice more experienced trail or ultra runners would be interested in. But if you're a crazy (but average) runner who may or may not also be slightly overweight, then this is the advice for you. You're welcome!

P.S. I would also tell you that you can do it. There were moments before the race that I wasn't so sure myself, but what I know now is that if I could do it, with the limited and floundering amount of training I did, then so can you.

4:06:22

2011-07-03T11:33:00.000-06:00

155th place out of 215 finishers. It was an amazing day, a beautiful day, and I've got nothing but great things to say about the race, the volunteers, and every other person I met on the course. I'm proud of myself. And while there is always the possibility that you could have done better (I really shouldn't have walked any of those last three downhill miles, say), I feel like I did my best.

Oh, I'm so happy that Mr. Bump was able to get such a flattering shot of my thighs for you all to see!

While the aid stations on the course were wonderful, and the volunteers were the best of any race I've ever done, I was fortunate enough to have my own cheering section comprised of my folks and my mother-in-law at the finish. And the best photographer/bell ringer/cheerleader a girl could ever hope to marry. Thanks Mr. Bump, for being the bright safety cone orange beacon for me to run toward. I love you, and I hope you know it.

Next stop, Portland!

pay no attention to the elevation on your screen

2011-06-29T15:23:00.001-06:00

Just trying to explain to a coworker what Saturday's Leadville Heavy Half course climb looks like. I finally gave up and just showed her this:

And now I'm going to look at that no longer.

panic!

2011-06-27T22:07:00.001-06:00

I’m trying not to freak out about the Heavy Half this weekend. Trying really hard. But.

I don’t feel ready.

I don’t feel prepared. And I feel like there’s nothing I can do between now and then to catch up.

I can feel the panic crawling up my throat. I want to jump on the treadmill, crank the incline up and do 15 miles right now. But I know if I do that know it’ll just hurt my performance on Saturday. That’s an exercise in panic. No that’s exercise in panic.

I’ve done 14,000 feet. I’ve done 14 miles. I just haven’t done 15 miles from 10K to 13K feet. I haven’t done more than 6 miles on trail—3 up and 3 back.

I am a control freak. Imma control fruh-eek. And it’s really hard for me to let go and let this play however it’s going to lay. I can make sure my music is ready. My gear is ready. My fuel is ready. I can hydrate. I can sleep. That’s all I got.

I was telling Mr. Bump today that I feel like this was a bigger deal even than my marathon. He said, “Lana, don’t you remember? You’re a badass!” I love my husband.

Then we went over my plans for the race:

Plan A: Go as fast as I can on the ascent, haul ass on the descent, trying to keep my feet under me and not trip.
Plan B: Panic!
Plan C: This is Mr. Bump’s plan. Plan Chill. the Fuck. Out. (Ok, I added the bad words.)

He suggests going from Plan A to Plan C, skipping over plan B entirely.

Generally, my plan when I’m freaked about something is to cover it with a mental black tarp, and forget about it for as long as I possibly can. This is coupled with bouts of ripping off that tarp, hopping up and down and tearing my hair out, until I can’t take it any more and the tarp goes back on. Sometimes, though, I leave the tarp on for too long and because I’ve spent so much time ignoring that black tarp that I’ve left myself very little time do get ready for whatever is under there. I think I’ve made it to the point where I just have to pull the tarp off, and start putting everything together.

Do I wish I was faster? Yes. Do I wish I was better on hills? You betcha. Can I do anything other than psych myself up or psych myself out? Nope. But I can choose to psych myself up rather than out, can’t I? Well, can’t I?

Hell to the yes!

Any words of encouragement for me? Please?

I gotta go to bed. Rest I can do something about. Peace out.

ain’t no mountain high enough

2011-06-26T09:46:00.002-06:00

We had a fun day yesterday. As part of my training for the Leadville Heavy Half, I thought it might be a good idea if I actually made it above 13,000 feet to see how I did at high altitude. So Mr. Bump and I got up early this morning and climbed a mountain. We climbed Mount Bierstadt, to be specific, one of Colorado’s fifty-three peaks over 14,000 feet. It’s kind of a Colorado thing, to climb a 14er. And now I’ve finally done it. I’ve earned my citizenship to the Colorado outdoors.

This is the trailhead. Mt. Bierstadt is the peak on the left. It was quite muddy until you got up a ways, and in some respects that was harder to navigate than the summit. Somehow, Mr. Bump managed to not get mud all over him.

I, however, managed to get muddy from my ankles to my hairline.

But despite spending some time playing around in the mud, and some time playing with all the fun (and muddy) dogs on the trail, we did, in fact, make it to the top.

Proof!

I am so crazy proud of myself, I must say. As evidenced by the photo below of the self-cheerleading that went on at the summit.
Now, I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but I’m guessing you’re thinking, “What’s the big deal? I mean, you’re kind of a badass, Lana. You’ve run a marathon. Of course you can climb a mountain, silly.”
When I was in high school, as part of a class team-building exercise, we went to climb Longs Peak as a class. Well I wimped out, with a couple of other classmates (who were dating at the time—awkward!) returned to the school van to wait for everyone else to summit and come back down. It was a dumb high school girl thing to quit, and I’ve regretted it on some level ever since.
Today, however, I have redeemed myself. I have purged that regret. Feels good.

And Mr. Bump and I got to spend some quality time together, eating cherry sours for energy and keeping others entertained by singing Superfreak (along with the appropriate Little Miss Sunshine choreography). Actually, that last one was just me. And I must say, I didn’t know anyone was around when I busted out my best Rick James impression.

Next time, I will:

remember to bring the granola bars I set out on the counter the night before so we have something to eat other than straight-up sugar.
bring walking poles, perhaps.
use that toilet at the trailhead rather than hoping I could “hold it until we get back down.” (If you know me at all, you know that I did, indeed, “hold it” until we got back to Denver. I don’t go in the out-of-doors.)

But I probably will break out into song again once we’ve finished our descent. That was awesome. And I think I’ll bring this guy along too.

I love my expression in this picture. I’m really just squinting but I look like a happy, happy mole.

bearfoot running

2011-05-23T21:25:00.001-06:00

This weekend’s adventure in trail running was an exciting one…

Let’s just say I can’t confirm if a bear shits in the woods, but I’m a little closer to answering the question of whether or not a Bump shits their pants in the woods after coming across fresh bear tracks on the trail.

The tracks go that way, but rest assured I went the other direction. With a quickness. Making lots of noise all the way.

building a mystery

2011-05-16T21:18:00.001-06:00

Every year when my birthday rolls around I find myself waiting. Waiting for something momentous to happen, or something small. Something special. Do you remember those early birthdays when you were a kid? Six, seven, eight? I would wake up every the morning of my birthday, and the first thing on my mind was that it was my birthday. Usually there was either a present already on my pillow, or at the kitchen table waiting for me. It was almost always a new outfit, a birthday outfit, complete with the right colored ribbons for my hair. Wearing that outfit made me feel special. Renewed. If it’s possible for an eight year old to feel renewed, anyway. There was the breakfast of choice, and cupcakes later for my class at school. Usually later in the day there would be another present (not something to wear) and whatever I wanted for dinner. This was all orchestrated (or perpetrated) by my mother. And she did the same thing for my brother when his birthday rolled around in December.

I love my mother. There aren’t words, really, to fully express that sentiment. I absolutely believe, with all my heart, that no one on this planet loves me more, and more unconditionally. Mr. Bump loves me a lot. My father loves me a lot, in his way, too. But the love my mom gives me is nearly a visible beam of light. She is still always teaching me what it means to love.

But it is possible that the woman has ruined me for birthdays as a grown-up. When you’re a grown-up, even a married one, even one that’s on Facebook, there is a certain amount of “ho-hum” that accompanies your birthday.

I’ll break it down for you: Even though I’m loved, and shown that love on my birthday by many people, I still find myself seeking some mythical birthday, where every moment sparkles and shines. I’m not sure what that is, but I know that it has a quality of being beyond reach. A day where the air is crisp but smells like summer is coming, a smell of fresh cut grass and sprinkler-wet earth. Where my hair ribbons match my outfit, and the day holds the promise of cake and ice cream, and more presents to come later. And so much love. Birthdays are the promise of love.

This year I woke up to a pile of birthday presents from Mr. Bump (including shoes!). There was a party, with cake and ice cream later. We laughed, and ate, and played games. I did make my own birthday cake. But hey, at this point in my life (and when it comes to cake), it’s just best to just get out of my way and let me make what I want. So thirty-seven was a pretty amazing birthday.

But now it’s Monday, and man do I have a case of them. Even my body is unhappy about it. I have a cake hangover. I have a birthday hangover. The birthday sparkle definitely fades faster when as you age. I think I’ve become a little bit like a junkie. No matter how much birthday fabulousness I have, I always think that I needed a little bit more.

Balance is a hard thing for me to find. I go after things fiercely, doggedly, but I don’t always maintain momentum. Like starting out too fast in a race, it’s hard to maintain the pace you set. Whether that’s running, or weight loss, or whatever, it’s hard to keep going. Sometimes you need to re-plant your feet and start over. And a birthday is a new year. A fresh start. A rebirth. So here I go. Happy happy birthday to me.

high line canal 10K: 1:14:12

2011-05-15T18:58:00.000-06:00

While not a PR, this the first race I've done with someone else, just running at their pace and egging them along. My friend did an awesome job on her first 10K, and I had a great time. As fun as running is for me, it's so great to watch someone else getting joy out of it.

(thanks to my brother-in-law for this one!)

And really, is there a better way to spend your birthday than raising your heart rate a bit?

2:33:20

2011-03-29T00:15:00.002-06:00

907th place out of 1017 finishers. Not last. I choose to be satisfied with that.

Time to start game-facing for the next one.

feevty-feevty

2011-03-27T19:57:00.000-06:00

I've been sitting here staring at a new blog post window trying to figure out what to say (and in fact how I feel) about today's race. I think the post title sums it up. It's an expression I got from The Geography of Bliss, by Eric Weiner. In it he spends some time in the least "happy" country in the world, Moldova, where he rents a room from an old woman. "Feevty-feevty" (50/50, complete with a level hand shaken back and forth) and "no" are the only English she knows. When asked if she's happy or not, her response is "feevty-feevty." If you asked me how I did today at the Boulder Spring Half Marathon, my best answer is feevty-feevty, but not much more than that.

Ah, how little we knew how this is going to play out.

Mr. Bump and I got up around 5:45 and made it to Boulder Reservoir around 7:15. Parked, hit the port-o-potties, wandered around and eventually lined up at the start. The race was supposed to start at 8:00 am, but for whatever reason (Mr. Bump says it was something about the timer), we didn't end up going until 8:15. The temperature was about 32, but you could tell that the sky was pretty clear so it would probably warm up. I had a ear band on, but I shucked that and my gloves and handed that off to Mr. Bump when we were lining up. Then we waited for another 15 minutes and my fingers and toes really started to get frozen.

I should have kept on my gloves of flame--
Perhaps they would have helped.

I had my music player all ready to go, but since we stood around for so long it powered itself off. After the gun (yep, they used a real gun), I was trying to get it to turn on and forgot to turn my watch on until well after I crossed the start line. So my official time will remain a mystery until they post the results. After I got my music going, and my watch on, I was feeling really pumped. Mr. Bump took an embarrassing video of the start line that demonstrates just how pumped I was, but I veto showing it to you.

There are a couple of hills in the first two miles, and I managed them pretty well. I started out with about 10:40s, which didn't feel too fast, so I didn't think I was pushing too hard. I fell in step with a guy who had a steady 10:40 to 11:00 minute pace, and while I fell behind a couple of times, I'd catch him back up again after a walk break. We chatted a little bit. Somewhere after mile 4 I seemed to catch a second wind. By the halfway point, I was feeling pretty good. I was pushing hard for me, and I was feeling it in my glutes and calves, but I was doing ok.

There is a teeny pink dot in the middle that is me, a loser alone on the road.

Miles 6-9 were hard, and I had to take some breaks, but they weren't too bad. The last few miles, though. I just ran out of gas. I knew I only had a 5K to go, but I just kept having to stop. I stopped through water stations. I stopped on hills (I ran all the downhills).

That hot pink blob in the middle of the picture is me. Walking.

Me running toward the finish line. Feebly.

Oh my god why am I not finished yet?!?

This is what pathetic looks like.

Even in the last third of a mile, once we got off the road and were on the chute up to the finish line (all up hill), I had to stop and walk. It was so demoralizing. I felt ashamed and embarrassed, but I couldn't go any faster.

Where the hell is the finish line? And why is it still so far away?

F-ing finally. I can go die now.

I am still so tired. I was so spent after my finish that I chucked my medal at Mr. Bump, grabbed a couple of cups of water and a protein drink and staggered to the car. I couldn't be bothered with ~~waiting in line~~ trying to eat anything. Mr. Bump had to put a hand on my back because he was afraid I was going to lose my balance.

I feel like I need to defend myself, somehow. The official time isn't up yet, but I think I finished in the 2:33 range. This is about six minutes faster than my previous time on the course. But about 13 minutes slower than I did on my last half marathon. This is definitely a tougher course. The end is just brutal with the hills. And my time was pretty much all over the place.

I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong, without wanting to admit that I did something wrong. Did I not fuel soon enough, or often enough? Did I start out too fast? Should I have walked some hills that I ran? Or did I do the best I could, and it just wasn't my day? I felt so strong, so ready. I can't figure out what happened.

The good:

I PR'd for the course.
I left everything out there. I had nothing left in the tank at the end.
I wasn't passed by a 70 year old speed walker.
I ran most of the first half, even the hills.
I didn't get sick.

The bad:

I didn't PR.
I didn't maintain my pace.
I was passed by a whole lot of other people.
I walked more of the second half than the first.
I thought I was going to get sick afterward the race, from too much liquids.

The ugly:
I have a nice blister on my right second-in-command toe.
I need to foam roll out my IT bands, but I'm scared it's going to hurt.
I am going to sleep well, unless the pain awakens me.
I'm going to do this again in three weeks, on an even tougher course. Hold me.

Well, that's all I can possibly say about that. Feevty-feevty it was.

And to leave you on a upbeat note, Mr. Bump took a picture of a dog, who runs like I wish I did.

ready to run

2011-03-25T16:35:00.001-06:00

I've had my hip therapied. I've picked up my bib, shirt, timing chip and pint glass (this is Boulder, after all). I made a little drive by luluemon athletica and I've got a little sumpin' sumpin' for myself. I am ready. Let's tear this up.

uh-oh

2011-03-23T17:30:00.025-06:00

This may not be the end of the world, but it doesn't sound like the most ideal weather for running a half-marathon on mostly dirt roads. With Janky HipTM. I've also not run since last Thursday, which is kind of freaking me out. I geared up for my long run on Sunday, but about a half-mile in, my knee was hurting with every step. Given the upcoming race, I decided to bail on the long run for the week, and just ice and ibuprofen and hope for the best. It seems to be better, but I'm afraid that I'll undo all that if I go for a run this week. I can't decide if I should do one (or two) short easy runs, or just rest completely until Sunday. Normally I'd cross-train, but cycling almost always makes my knees hurt anyway, so I'm scared to do that. And I first noticed the pain on Friday on the elliptical, so I'm afraid to do that. Swimming is it's own complicated thing (time, gear, schlepping to/from pool), and any other cross-training activity I can think of (rowing?) is pretty knee heavy. I think I might try a slow/easy 3 mile run tomorrow, and hope for the best.

My knee is only half the equation. The Janky Hip (I should trademark that) has been really cranky too, but I think that is from inactivity. Double-edged, there, isn't it? I go see the physical therapist on Friday, but I haven't been in two weeks, and I'm guessing that is also a part of the problem.

I'm thinking it might be a good idea to hold off on any more races after the Horsetooth Half next month. At least until after the Leadville Heavy Half. The training for that monster needs to begin soon, so I really don't think it's wise to tax my poor body with other races in the meantime. Plus it's expensive.

But. If I were to finish a third half marathon in the next 90 days, I could become a Half Fanatic. Who cares, right? But it would be cool. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think that unless I'm feeling overwhelmingly better in the next couple of weeks, it's probably just too much, and not worth the toll on my body.

Speaking of toll on my body, I need to seriously think about losing some weight if I want to get faster. "They" estimate that for every pound you lose, you can gain two seconds per mile in speed. While that doesn't seem like a lot, every little bit counts. Especially when your tendons and joints seem to be cranky. My eating habits lately haven't been supporting this goal, so I've got to re-evaluate what I'm doing, and why I'm doing it. I checked Run Less, Run Faster out of the library, and while it's a very structured training, I can see how it works. The basic premise is 3 runs a week, 2 cross-training sessions. The runs are track, tempo, and long runs. The cross-training sessions should be non-impact, like cycling or swimming or rowing. It looks challenging, but I generally do better with a structured plan, so I'm considering it. I've never done a track workout before (running alternately fast and slow laps on an actual track), and it sounds deadly boring, but it's supposed to do the trick for getting faster. Something about VO2 Max? Tempo runs are a faster, but sustainable run of a middle 93-6 mile) length. This one's supposed to be about your lactate threshold, I think? And the long run is, well, the long run. This bad boy is for endurance. It seems like a real serious training program. But my main goal for another marathon would be sub 5 hours, and this would get me there.

In non-running related news, April is looking to be the busiest of months. We're going to DC for a week, and once we get home our friends will be here. In that time span I've also got a half-marathon to run. They leave and then we take off for New Orleans for Easter weekend. I've got to decide if I want to enter the lottery for the Nike Women's Marathon (lottery closes on the 22nd), cross my fingers and see if managed to win the lottery for the New York City Marathon (lottery is on the 29th), and if neither pick another fall marathon. Somewhere in there we've got to do our taxes. Ruby needs to get her teeth cleaned. Oh yeah, and then there are those 40 hours a week we're busy working. I love having things to do and places to go, but man. Go go go!

rude much?

2011-03-22T18:16:00.000-06:00

If you happen to meet a neighbor on the way to the mailbox, and he makes an observation that your dog is "getting a little chunky, isn't she?" is it rude to punch him in the face? I didn't think so. Thanks for backing me up on that.

For the record, Ruby saw the vet week before last and hasn't gained an ounce in the last year. She's healthy, aside from what apparently is a small boulder of earwax in each ear. All of those reading this over a meal or snack, you're welcome.

I don't know if I should be offended, amused, or what. I mean, she's a dog. She's got three simple pleasures in life, but I'd say they rank, in order:

Licking her privates. Obvious, no explanation needed.
Her soccer ball. She loves to chase it, to nudge it under the couch. Sometimes she even climbs the stairs and drops it down them for herself.

I mean, how sad is this?

Mushrooms. As someone who has dieted extensively I can promise you that this is nearly a no-calorie food, and I swear it is her favorite reward treat. She'd rather have a mushroom stem than almost anything. Possibly even more than #1.

But I've got my back up over it. I feel defensive. She's NOT FAT. I mean, if she was we'd make sure she got more walks and ate less food. We would be responsible and proactive. But she isn't! It was an odd moment. I wasn't sure what to say, but I did manage to let him know that the vet says she's normal, but that Ruby is gearing up for swimsuit season like the rest of us.

Obviously I'm internalizing this a bit--but seriously? Don't tell anyone their dog is fat. It's like saying someone's wife or child is fat. Ok, maybe not exactly like that, but it's better said inside your head only.

Speaking of dogs, check this out. And this. Both will make you happy if you have animal love in your life. Wait, was that dirty? Eh. Enjoy.

salt

2011-03-21T17:30:00.003-06:00

**I'm trying some new subject matter. Bear with me.

Anybody see this movie?

(image source)

I know it came out nine months ago, but it can be like pulling teeth to get Mr. Bump to sit down and watch a movie. We finally watched it last night after about a month after the Netflix sleeve arrived in the mail.

Verdict? I liked it for about 3/4 of the movie, and then it all fell apart for me. Normally if I find myself thinking about a movie after the credits roll it's because I'm intrigued enough by the premise to try and puzzle it all out. This one I was trying to rewrite in my head because the plot made a right turn that I didn't approve of. Admittedly, we watched the extended version, so maybe some of the extra stuff was what made less sense?

I'm not going to spoil the plot for anyone that hasn't seen it, also partly because I'm too lazy to lay it all out here. Basic plot question: is this CIA agent really a Russian spy? Or isn't she? Or is she?

If you saw any of the trailers, then you'll have seen her leaping from the top of one moving semi-truck to another. This I found more believable than the way in which she was sprinting through the streets of D.C.

This isn't the best shot of it (**I took the image out because Life.com keeps blocking it), but she pumped her arms in a way I've never seen anyone run. It was weird. Which was part of the annoyance. Maybe the problem was that it deviated from the "formula" of this kind of movie, and I kept waiting for the formulaic resolution, which never happened.

Anyway, I was just curious if anyone else had seen it, and what they thought. I loved the first 3/4 of the movie, all the action (I mean, she makes a bazooka out of a table leg, cleaning supplies and a fire extinguisher, for goodness sake!), and especially the jumping from semi-truck to semi-truck stuff, but it just seemed disjointed.

housekeeping

2011-03-18T17:30:00.001-06:00

"The only advantage in not being too good a housekeeper is that your guests are so pleased to feel how very much better they are." ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I saw this quote in my Real Simple magazine while I was on the elliptical today. It's very appropriate because our dearest friends are coming to visit in April. I'll be keeping this in mind as the excuse for why our house is a crap heap. We're trying to make others feel good through our sacrifice. We wouldn't keep our house a hovel, but we have to put the comfort (and superiority) of our guests above our own needs.

In other "housekeeping" news, I learned the hard way this week that if you want to run a race, you shouldn't wait to sign up for it. Because if you do, it'll sell out. I was planning on a re-match of The Colorado Marathon 10K (long time readers will remember this as my very first race), but sadly, it sold out before I signed up. I don't know what I was waiting for. In my defense I will say that I signed up for it the first time in mid-March, so I didn't expect it to be sold out. And crapity if it is. They send you a nice email telling you that it's sold out, just so you know what it is you can't do it. I could do the 5K, but that's such a short distance, and at $35.00 for a crappy black, poorly fitting technical tee (of which I already have 2 from prior years' participation), I don't think it's a good value.

This month, (actually next weekend!) I'm all set to re-match the Boulder Backroads with the Spring Half-Marathon. In April, I thought about doing the Platte Half Marathon again this year, but I remembered they don't give out medals, which is kind of shady for a half marathon. So I signed up for the Horsetooth Half Marathon in Fort Collins. I have no races on my schedule for May or June yet, so if you have any suggestions that might be cheap or local, I'd love to hear them. July is the Leadville Heavy Half (I'm terrified), and I think that in August I'll rematch the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon (this was the half marathon I had to bail on last year because of the hives).

Part of me would really love to do a race every month this year. I'm off to a good start already, and it keeps me training and keeps my base mileage up. But that's a lot of money. I was all set to do the Rock and Roll San Diego Half in June, but then plane tickets jumped about $100 in one day, and I just couldn't pull the trigger. Maybe I'll go nuts and go for it, or maybe I can find something else. I don't know. I just don't like any of the races here in the summer, they're all 5K run/walks, etc. And it's kind of hot unless you're in the mountains. There's also the fact that I'm supposed to be training for a 15 mile race at 10,000 feet. Oh that.

Well, I'm afraid this post is going to trail off here, but I do hope your weekend is fantastic, and it doesn't involve housekeeping in any way shape or form.

putting the partay in pt

2011-03-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

Well, no, there's no disco ball there. But I have been going to physical therapy twice a week for about a month now, to treat what I call the Janky Hip. Which is not what Bill, my physical therapist, would call it. He calls it hip flexor tightness, and my glut muscles' inability to do their work. I definitely have a butt, however those muscles back there have been too long covered with blub--they've gotten really lazy.

Mostly what happens at these appointments is he gives me homework (strenghtening moves, stuff like squats and leg lifts and resistance band-y type stuff). I can't tell if it's helping, but that might be my own fault. I'm about 60% on doing my exercises every day.

The other thing he does is "mobilize" my hip by strapping my leg around his middle and moving it around. It hurts and it feels a little goofy. Basically he uses what looks like a length of seat belt material around my bent let and then around his waist. It basically looks like this:

Goofy, right? And kinda weirdly intimate, except not. I'm not really used to being touched by anyone other than Mr. Bump, so it's weird to me. But no more weird than having your physician poke and prod you. I usually feel a little stiff and sore afterwards, and it isn't like the angels sing or dolphins jump over rainbows on my next run after a PT session.


Damn you, Janky Hip!

I have some misgivings. I have plenty of faith in my physical therapist, but my faith in myself and my ability to do the work that would "fix" me. I feel like I shouldn't be running, that the running is the reason that I'm all jacked up, and that it's going to keep jacking me up. I get a little depressed from the "Your feet are flat, and that's going to give you plantar fasciitis, shin splints, patellofemoral issues, IT band problems, hip flexor issues (my current complaint) and/or low back pain." He's never said that I shouldn't or can't run, which I really appreciate, but I still get down after my PT appointments.

It seems unfair. Someone should have warned me before I fell in love with running. I'm at the point now where I don't want to quit, no matter what anyone says. I've never been a quitter, of all the things I've been. And I'm stubborn as all hell. I'm not sure there's a solution, or at least not an easy fix. I'm also (big surpise) not patient, which is part of the problem. The Janky Hip didn't show up overnight, and it probably won't get better that way either. Sad face.

So I guess I'll do my exercises, and let Bill hug on my leg. And try to figure out how to love cross-training, too.

talk about neverminding

2011-03-02T09:29:00.001-07:00

So somehow, according to Google Analytics, I've managed to rid myself of any and all visits to my blog. I'm now officially audience-free. Bring on the curse words and oversharing!

Love,

~~(Your)~~ Lonely Mrs. Bump

** UPDATE: It appears that it was Google Analytics script that disappeared, rather than my faithful readers. Ah, hell. I'm going to pretend that didn't happen and curse and overshare like a motherfucker!**

what i've been up to: running edition

2011-03-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

These are the races I've done in the last few months:

November 2010 - Turkey Trot 5K, Loveland, CO 32:11 PR
December 2010 - Rudolph's Revenge 5K, Littleton, CO 32:59
January 2011 - Frosty's Frozen 5M, Littleton, CO 51:14 PR
February 2011 - Snowman Stampede 10M, Littleton, CO 1:50:01 PR

This is what's on tap for the rest of the year. Races in black I'm registered for, races in blue I'm thinking about; and races in red I've got my fingers crossed for.

March 2011 - Boulder Spring Half Marathon, Boulder, CO
April 2011 - Platte Half Marathon, Littleton, CO
May 2011 - Colorado Marathon 10K, Fort Collins, CO
June 2011 - ??
July 2011 - Leadville Heavy Half Marathon (15 M), Leadville, CO
August 2011 - Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon
September 2011 - ??
October 2011 Nike Women's Marathon/Portland Marathon
November 2011 (NYCM)
December 2011 ??

As you might be able to discern, I'm thinking about a streak this year. Think I can do 12 races in 12 months? I've only got one marathon in me this year, and I've got a priority list: NYC Marathon (pipe dream), Nike Women's Marathon (Tiffany necklace finisher medal), or Portland Marathon (all reports are that it's a lovely race, but if I hem and haw too long, it might be full before I get a chance to sign up). I really want to run NYC but I signed up for the lottery not really thinking I'd get it on my first try. I'll let you know on April 30th whether I got picked or not. If not, I've always had Nike Women's Marathon on my list, but I've heard some pretty negative things about the race organization and course support for the full marathoners. Also it's a lottery system that is supposed to draw sometime in March/April, but I can't find anywhere that you can sign up for the lottery yet. Which leaves me with Portland, but I'm stuck wondering if I should sign up now, or wait until after the lottery for NYC. If I wait, I run the risk of it selling out before I can sign up. Not sure what to do.

Anyway, so depending on what marathon I end up getting picked/picking, That leaves me with needing a race in June, one in September, and one in either October or November that I need to choose. I've had a tough time finding one in June that takes my fancy, and since I'm running the Boulder Spring Half, I don't want to run the same course for the Boulder Backroads Half in September, which I did in 2009. There are gobs to choose from in October, and if all else fails I can go for the Turkey Trot again in November. December could either be the Rudolph's Revenge again, or I could push back my marathon until December and run either Rock and Roll Vegas or California International Marathon in Sacramento. Decisions, decisions.

Well, I'm off to be a good little physical therapy patient and do my exercises. How I've ended up in PT, and the fact that I haven't shared my 12 in 12 goals with my physical therapist, well, that's another blog post for another time. Toodles!

P.S. I'm also on Daily Mile --> see the widget on the sidebar? Let's be workout buddies!

it's easier not to

2011-02-24T22:06:00.000-07:00

There comes a point where it's been so long since you blogged that you begin to wonder if you should even bother anymore. Like you just get out of the habit and after a while, it's a muscle that hurts to use. It takes effort, and energy, and it's easier not to. I can't believe I haven't blogged since December, but then again it's been a rough few months. Busy too. Roughy. Busough. Whatever.

So Italy happened. And about 3 wonderful weeks and 4 pounds later, we came home. Two days later we hosted a party at our house. There may have been way too many wrappers from Halloween candy in the trash. This may or may not have resulted in Mr. Bump hiding the Halloween candy from me. Not because he didn't want me to eat any, but because he didn't want me to eat IT ALL. Then when we recovered from that (but still not really recovered from having to come home from Italy--see Halloween candy consumption above), it was suddenly Thanksgiving. I ran a Turkey Trot 5K by myself in the freezing frigid Thanksgiving morning after having only run a few times since before Italy. I had to work the day after Thanksgiving, which is just about the suckiest day to have to work, I'd say. So sucky I promised my coworkers I'd make brownies as a salve. I needed some of that salve myself.

The very next weekend Mr. Bump and I flew out to San Diego to see some of our favorite people. It was wonderful and way too short, as always. And there was In-N-Out, as always.

Just as we got home from San Diego, I got sick. There's no better way to cap off a lovely long weekend than with a little mucus!

And before I could get well, my parents were in a car accident. Yeah, that happened.

The car was totaled, and my dad was ok but Mom got pretty banged up. She broke her wrist, some ribs, and sprained an ankle. I got the call from my brother as I was getting off the bus from work. I walked in the door, packed a bag, kissed Mr. Bump goodbye and drove to the hospital an hour north of Denver. I spent most of the following week doing my best to manage that situation, which was hard, and lonely, and scary. Mom's ok, really. But there's something about seeing your parents injured, and frail. It's so world-rocking, earth-shatteringly scary. I'm at my best when there's something I can do, so I just kept moving. Looking back on it now, I was moving away from dealing with how scary the whole thing was. As if I could dodge that thought by keeping busy. Cooking and freezing meals, cleaning, helping Mom shower and do her hair, making sure she had clothes she could easily pull on and off (broken ribs on one side, broken wrist on the other make it surprisingly hard to pull up your pants), trying to make my father feel a little less helpless. I remember some chocolate peanut caramels so good that I may have eaten a whole container of them. As I was inhaling them one after another, I knew I was binging. I knew I needed to step away. But I didn't. They were really good.

So that was December. December was spent driving back and forth to my parents house an hour away, baking somewhere around 10 dozen cookies for my World Famous Cookie Plates, working a full time job, and oh yeah, that thing called Christmas. That happened too. There may have been a total lack of even caring about what I was eating, coupled by the extravaganza of "once a year" treats that you have to eat because they won't be back for another 12 months, right?

January? What I remember about January at this point is that the jeans were too tight. And a lot of panic about that. And that sweet cycle of diligent dieting and failure binging. Swinging in and out of control like a trapeze artist.

This month I've been better. Less crazy. I'm trying to pull things back to center. Just slowly, carefully circling the calorie consumption, trying not to startle it. I see my willpower? self worth? diet-self?? is a quaking mess right now. Any sudden moves and it just goes nuts with the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Hearts (Now 1/2 price!). I don't know if this makes any sense, but it's how I feel.

All this is the consumption side of the equation, which is the real struggle right now. I can run and run. I can cycle and elliptical and yoga. But I can't seem to keep the eating under control. Or even under 2,000 calories. Some days I can't keep it under 3,000! I'm feeling less panicked about my current weight (although the number hasn't really changed since we got back from Italy, one way or the other). Part of me really wants to be somewhere between 10-20 pounds lighter than I am right now. And part of me just says fuck it. There are no easy losses at this point. I have to work really hard for every pound. In 2010 I was more focused running than on weight loss, and it's pretty rough to try and train for a marathon (and I trained for 1 and 1/2 trained for another!) and try to lose weight.

But like all weight loss, no matter what your goals or your circumstances are, it's just easier not to do it. Straight up, that's it. It's easier not to. And the truth is, in 2010 I maintained a weight loss of 50 pounds in the previous year, and 100 pounds since 2004. In 2010 I ran a marathon. It would have been easier not to do that either.

I know I'm going to figure it out. It's always going to be about going back to the formula that works for me, I know this. It's always going to be counting calories, recording exercise, being accountable. It's always just the question of when I'm going to get back on track. It's easier not to do it today.

Hence the cagey circling of my diet-self. I'm trying to lull it into some sense of security before I jump it and hog tie it.

This post has gotten way too long, and it is barely funny. I'm going to try lighten things up around here.

I solemnly swear that my next post will be funny. Also it'll be All About Running...stay tuned!

we are home, home from rome

2010-11-11T17:35:00.000-07:00

(This was my stupid grin all through Italy.)

So we went to Italy. We went to Italy for three wonderful, fabulous weeks. Despite mixed weather, loss of one passport (mine), and fifteen (yes, 15!) bug bites (just on me, natch), it may have been one of our best trips ever.

We flew into Rome and were there for three nights. Then we took the train to Sorrento and spent an afternoon at Pompeii, a day touring the Amalfi coast, and then took a ferry to Capri, where we spent our 9th anniversary. From there we returned to Sorrento, picked up a rental car, and drove to Le Marche by way of Civita di Bagnoreggio. We stayed 3 nights in Le Marche at the most amazing agriturismo and explored the area. After that we drove down to Pienza through Arezzo and Cortona. We spent the next day driving around Tuscany, and dropping our car off in Florence. After three days and nights in Florence exploring museums, we took the train to Cinque Terre, stopping to spend part of the day in Lucca on the way there. We explored Cinque Terre as well as Portovenere to the south and Sestri Levante to the north in 4 days, and then we spent most of a day traveling by train to Venice. We spent two days and nights getting lost in Venice and then took the train to Milan, where we flew out the next morning. It felt like a lifetime but it flew by seemingly in the amount of time it took me to write this paragraph.

And now we are back and we are sad. I can’t seem to get out of my funk. Nothing seems worth getting excited about: not work, not baking, not running, not the upcoming holidays. All I want to do is curl up in bed and dream about Italy. Or possibly just grab Mr. Bump by the hand and head to the airport with our passports and a credit card and never come back. Instead, while I am desperately trying to pull myself backward through the hedge into my life, I thought I would take some time to tell you the stories and show you the pictures from our trip. Maybe it’ll help me get over Italy. As if that were even possible. Stay tuned for our adventures and pictures.

let's recap, shall we?

2010-09-07T12:00:00.001-06:00

So shall we discuss August? That lovely month where all my goals went off track, slid down the mountainside, and came to rest in a heap in the river. As you will recall readers, when we last saw our heroine, she was having some serious motivation problems. My perspective was all jacked up, too. I had a run in Leadville that I didn't finish. This was a first for me. It was only 12.5 miles instead of the 14 I was supposed to, and I cried my heart out over it. Seriously, me? You ran 12 1/2 miles. At 10,000 feet. Why are you crying!

Anyway, I don't know if it was heat or motivation, but I kept getting (at least what felt like) slower and slower. So set the scene: this was my my state of mind at the end of July.

Enter August. Which started out with the removal of two of my wisdom teeth. (By the way, I don't recommend this, if for no other reason than the fact that I kept hearing, "Well, you know you're older, so your recovery is going to be harder. Gee, thanks for the reminder.) This, I believe, was the Universe's way of deciding what was next for me. Two weeks of painkillers, semi-soft food (Wendy's frosty, I heart you), and not being able to open my mouth more than the width of a finger. I did a short run about a week later, but what wasn't in the cards for me was running the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half-Marathon, as I had planned. As I had signed up for and paid my money for. This, again, was a first for me. A DNS (did not start). The shame!

But, when you wake up the day before the race, and you're covered head to toe with a bright red rash, this is again the Universe intervening in your training. This was the day I ran a 4 mile test run anyway, but that was before I realized I was standing at the corner of Rash and Itch streets. And by the way, Universe? You don't have to shout. I think I can hear you just fine now, thanks. We think it was a penicillin allergy, but that is something my doctor and I will have to make sure about at a later date.

So no half-marathon for me, which was probably a Life Lesson or something. There will be other races. After all, they hold this race every year! Yada yada yada. Somewhere after the half marathon no-go, I decided that maybe it was time to let go of the idea of another marathon this year. And rather than being tearful and mopey about it, it felt like a huge relief. Marathon training takes a lot of energy and time, and maybe two training cycles back to back was a mistake for me. Other people can do it with no problem, but not me. So sayeth the Universe, so sayeth I.

I started instead to watch what I ate, record it, calorie count--all that stuff, and also to do some cross-training. I've gotten back on the bike (hurrah!) and the elliptical, and the treadmill. I'm doing some pilates. Some strength training. And wouldn't you know it? My weight has started to drop again, somewhere to the tune of 5 pounds, although some of that is probably water. I've got about 4 pounds left to go before I'm officially (and forever, damnit!) a healthy weight, according to my BMI. With a month to go before our trip to Italy, that is my new goal. A healthy weight before I go to the country that loves carbs almost as much as I do. But given the amount of walking I think we'll be doing, I'm not too worried.

I'm also I'm trying to fall back in love with running. We're flirting with each other, but I'm going to take it slow. This is a relationship I'd like to last.

And although September has begun with what is either a late summer or an early fall cold which made my Labor Day weekend an indoor-on-the-couch-with-a-book kind of holiday, I'm going to go ahead and give September the benefit of the doubt. The weather has shifted, and the summer heat seems to have gone out of sun. Up at Bumpalot the leaves are starting to turn.

Fall is my time of year, and I'm back, baby! Take that, Universe!

coming around again

2010-07-23T12:00:00.000-06:00

Man oh man am I struggling at the moment. Kind of, well, all over the place. Work is hard at the moment. That's about all I can say about that, but I spend 9 hours of my day there, so you can imagine how that might be spilling over into the rest of me. Running has been a struggle like it never has been. Part of that might be the heat. But I had a moment during my 16 mile long run last Sunday where I thought:

I don't want to do this anymore. Why am I doing this?

I've never never said that before during a run. Sure, I've wanted to be done with it, or walk the rest of the way, but not about quitting all together. So I'm not sure if it is the heat (it's been over 90 more days than not in July so far), burnout (maybe back to back marathon training cycles wasn't a good idea?), or just the Charlie Brown Raincloud I've got going on at the moment.

This morning I had planned a 7 mile run into work. It would have been cooler, would get it out of the way early on a Friday, all good stuff. I set an alarm for 5:00, got up, got my clothes on, brushed my teeth, etc. I sat down on the edge of the tub to put my shoes on, and just sat there for about 5 minutes. I couldn't do it.

Often the hardest part of the run is getting out the door--we all know that. But I just couldn't do it. I seriously sat there shouting at myself in my head. There was a little shouting match back and forth between warring factions in my head.

Ultimately I stripped off my running clothes and crawled back into bed for another half an hour, and then got up to go to work like normal, but I'm disappointed in myself. I hope to redeem myself with a 14 mile run this weekend. Sometimes if I take a couple of extra days off I have more energy and a better run. That was part of the arguments raised by the devil on my shoulder this morning.

I had a bad 8 mile run on Wednesday night, too. It was hot, it was hard, and it resulted in mexican food and ice cream for dinner. And I'd had gelato after lunch on Wednesday. Two (hefty) servings of ice cream in one day? What is the matter with me? In no way, shape, or form is that healthy eating.

So that's another piece of the puzzle. My eating has been out of control. I've pretty much been eating whatever I want since March or April. Which was fine when I was running 25-30 miles a week. But thus far I've run 8, in one go. Ice cream twice, crazy snacking, bowls of cereal after dinner (what? I have weaknesses). Some clandestine eating, some defiant eating, some misery-stuffing eating. Part of the reason I started this second marathon training cycle was so I could continue to eat what I want. And I haven't really gained any weight. But it isn't healthy. It isn't a good training diet. And it isn't helping matters.

So what should I do? I'm stuck in this rut, and I'm not sure if I should quit the marathon training, try other forms of exercise? I haven't really gotten back off the bike since my recent flight off it. Mr. Bump thinks I become a miserable Debbie Downer when I don't run regularly. And maybe he's right. But I've been half-full of feeling ugly and icky all the time, when I'm running, at work, at home. I find myself every morning trying to contrive some illness so I don't have to go to work. I come home, shed my work skin, and plunk myself down in front of the tv or my laptop to watch something to try and lift my spirits. (Right now that's Arrested Development seasons 1-3, if you're interested.) In bed, in the dark, headphones on and completely checked out of myself.

I feel like I've got this soundtrack of whine playing in the background: "But I don't want to!" What's that about? I don't know. I'm not sure how to fix it. Do you?

rite of initiation

2010-06-28T17:30:00.001-06:00

Well, despite all the flowery language of my last post, the romance was short lived. I still love my bike, and I plan on going for a ride on it at least once a week, but we've had a time, me and my bike. Here's a little flavor for you:

Sadly, this knee is mine--my very own gory glory. Mr. Bump and I went for what ended up being a 22 mile bike ride up in Loveland this weekend, and I suppose fortunately for me, this happened at about mile 21. I was tired. There was a curb that should have been low enough to mount onto the bike path. But it was a little too high. I was too tired. And I was probably going too fast. My front wheel made it ok, but the back one managed to not quite make it up onto the curb, and proceeded to slide along past the curb's lowest point. Much chaotic wavering insued, followed by my ejection from the bike. I (thankfully) hit the dirt on the other side of the bike path, but I (unfortunately) did so with the side of my face and my right wrist. My knee drug along behind me on the concrete. Hence the nasty scrape. Honestly, I was really, really lucky, and this is why:

1) I was wearing a helmet.
2) My head hit dirt instead of concrete.
3) I didn't totally trash my new bike.

There were a few scrapes along one fender, and one of the pedals has changed its shape on the end, but Mr. Bump had already ordered new pedals for it anyway, so I'm not too bothered.

Here's what I learned from this experience. Always, always wear a helmet. Gloves help too so you don't get your palms all scraped up. Slow down. Seriously. And when you're tired, bear that in mind because your reflexes might not be as you would wish them to be.

Mr. Bump assured me that this kind of thing could happen to even the most experienced rider, and he's definitely come home from his normal commute with road rash on knee, elbow and shoulder.

The other thing I discovered is how much my thought processes have changed over the last few years. My first thought was "ooh, I smacked my head really hard there." Second was, "Shit, I have a 12 mile run to do with this scraped knee tomorrow." And third was "my bike! How's my bike?"

Two years ago I wouldn't have gotten right back on that bike and ridden it the 1.5 miles we had left on our ride. Two years ago there would have been no way I would have gone for any run, let alone a 12 mile one. But I got back on the bike, and yesterday I ran, and it was fine. It probably even helped work out some of the soreness.

However, there remains quite a bit of soreness, today. My right arm would really prefer not to go over my head. And I don't think I broke my wrist, but it hurts like the dickens nonetheless.

But I broke my bike in, and myself as a cyclist. I haven't had a skinned knee since I was younger than 12.

summer + new bicycle = joy

2010-06-23T17:30:00.005-06:00

Today happens to be Bike to Work Day, and I was fortunate enough to pick up my brand new bike last night, in time for an inaugural bike ride to work this morning. I love it more than it's probably cool to admit, but it's beautiful and easy to ride. All it needs is a bike bell and a basket and I'm set.

I love to run, and I don't have any plans to stop, but it's nice to be excited about something else, and it's what we call cross-training, my dears. We also call it F.U.N.

I hope wherever you are, whatever chaos you're up to your neck in in your life right now, that you're able to take a moment to remember what a simple pleasure it is to stand up on your pedals and sprint, to ride along "No Hands!" and to coast down a long hill. Summer is officially here.

no day is a good day

2010-06-08T12:30:00.077-06:00

that starts with a pile of dog vomit in your bed. Blergh. Mr. Bump didn't love his dinner last night, so he set the remaining mushrooms and sauce on the floor for Ruby to finish off. Apparently it didn't agree with her either, and she didn't want to bother us, so she just threw up in the bed between us. On the comforter, and the sheets, which bled through to the mattress pad but thankfully not the mattress. I'm not sure when she did it, but it was an unpleasant wake-up call.

But! There have been good things happening, too.

Like this:

And by that I mean the diamond earring you can see in my left ear. Yes! I finally, FINALLY, got myself those earrings. This isn't the best picture of them, but I do love them so. They aren't huge, but they're big enough for me, and they're wearable, which I have been doing without a break since I got them. It will probably mean that I'll have to clean them more often, but I don't care. The point of them is to remind me of what I've accomplished and what that means to me. And how important it is to keep working on it, every single day.

And with that in mind, I must admit that since the marathon, I've gained a couple of pounds. Quite honestly three to four. So the earrings also are a reminder to get back to basics, and so that's where I am. With my food log, and my exercise, and all that hard work. Mostly I think they are the result of eating like I'm running 25-30 miles a week, while actually not running any. Whoopsie.

So I'm back to hitting the pavement, too. I took three or so weeks off, and then one half-hearted week where I ran once. But I'm back, baby! And trying to figure out some new training goals, which is tough. I feel really at sea without a goal, and without a goal I have been re-introduced to those three to four pounds.

I thought about a triathalon for a bit, but the lack of someplace to train and the amount of gear required were offputting to me. I love to swim, I like to ride my bicycle (Queen reference!), and running is my bag. But trying to find a place to swim that isn't the teeny tiny rec center pool has been a challenge. So for right now, I think that I'll let that go, although I am going to try and do more cross-training this summer. We're on the cusp of the purchase of a new bike for me (so exciting!), and it's between this one and this one. So I hope to use that a bit, too.

I cringe to put this out there, but without accountability, I'm a backslider. I think I'm going to try another marathon. In the fall. *Cringe* I'm thinking about the Mountain Air Marathon, which is at some elevation, but is again downhill, and isn't a big marathon. So there you go. I said it. So much for keeping it under my hat, Mr. Bump! I'm competitive enough to really want to try and run it under 5 hours. Anyway, what this means is I'm back on a training schedule. Which is good for me--I do well with structure. What I don't do so well with is heat, which we've been enjoying in our neck of the woods lately. I ran last night at 8:30, then got up this morning and left the house to run in to work at 5:45. Both runs were very sweaty, and it has been very hard to get control of my heart rate. I only took a few weeks off, so I can't imagine that the difference is in my fitness. The heat is killer. I don't remember how I did it last year when I was training for the half. I predict a lot of early mornings in my future. Hopefully ones free of dog vomit.

the post marathon world

2010-05-13T22:23:00.000-06:00

Immediately after crossing the finish line on Sunday I thought "Huh. That wasn't so bad." Sure, my feet hurt. Sure, I was really tired. But I didn't feel horrible, which is what I was led to expect. To answer one of the questions I've been getting this week, (How was your marathon?) I say "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be!" But I would argue that this statement speaks more to my pessimistic nature than my mad marathon skills.

The soreness didn't set in until sometime late Sunday night/early Monday morning, but set in it did. I went to roll over, not fully awake, until I was fully awake because someone had come in while I was sleeping and took a baseball bat to my quadriceps. Every position was painfully sore. The transition from standing to sitting on the toilet was a particularly painful one. But it sort of felt like as much of a medal as my actual finisher's medal. Bragging rights, if you will. But after a lovely, lengthy massage on Monday night, I was feeling much better.

By yesterday all the soreness was gone. The only physical reminders of the marathon that remain are some scabs leftover from where my fuel belt and my heart rate monitor chafed. And while that's good (great, actually) from a physical standpoint, I'm beginning to get that late-in-the-party feel, where the helium balloons are floating a foot from the floor. That bit where almost everyone has left and there are dorito crumbs and sticky spots all over the floor, half-empty Solo cups on every surface--you get the idea of this metaphor.

I've gotten the "what now?" question a lot already, and I'm with all the askers. What now indeed. I'm realizing that perhaps I am meant for distance, for endurance. I'm realizing just how much I'd like to shave 3 minutes and 51 seconds off my marathon time. Other people I know who ran the race are still hobbling and not at all contemplating another one. Me? I'm thinking about how I could have done better. Gone faster. Ran more of the last half.

My anxieties about finishing flew out of my head around mile 15--I knew by then that I was feeling well enough to finish. And I tried as hard as I could to speed up in the last three miles, but there really wasn't any gas in the tank. I may as well go ahead and admit this here. I got passed by a 70ish speed walker. No--I got smoked by a 70ish speed walker. She smoked me by at least a couple of minutes, sadly. I kept up with her for a while, but at some point I couldn't summon enough interest or energy to pass her or even keep up with her. So instead I watched her go. And admitted to myself that although I was going to finish after that woman, I was more interested in finishing myself than beating someone else.

But beating my own time. That's something worth thinking very hard about. But I don't know yet. Maybe I'll do a sprint triathalon this summer. Maybe I'll find a race up in the mountains. But for just this moment, I'm ready to be done with Week 0 of training and get back out there on the road. It's crazy, but even yesterday I was really trying to figure out when I could run again. I'm proud of that fact too, alongside the marathon finish. The post-marathon restart can be hard. But I think I'm ready to begin again.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Thirty-five was a really good year for me. I've got ~~nothing~~ (except perhaps a couple new crow's feet around my eyes) (ok one thing) bad to say about it. I can't wait to see what this next year will hold.

5:03:51

2010-05-10T17:30:00.006-06:00

I'm beyond proud of myself and happy with my time. I'll try to get a recap together in the next couple of days but for now, I'm just going to try and nurse my sore muscles. It was a hard day, but an awesome one.

2010 Colorado Marathon

What a difference a year makes:

2009 Colorado Marathon 10K

24 hours from now

2010-05-08T14:00:00.000-06:00

You've played this game, right? When you have something big huge major going on the next day, and you analyze what part of the big huge major you'll be in 24 hours from now. As I write this, 24 hours from now I will be all done with the marathon. Hard to imagine. I woke up this morning around 3:45, and realized 24 hours from then I'd be getting up to get ready to go meet the bus, which will take me up to the start of the race. I woke up again at 6:05, and realized 24 hours from now I'd be crossing the start line. That line of thought has rolled on and on today.

I was in worry mode today (what today? try this whole week) until we went to pick up my race packet. When I saw my bib number was 13, I found my excitement, wherever it has been hiding. Thirteen is my lucky number. I choose day to believe in signs. Everything is going to be great. I'm going to have a good time. I have exhaled.

See you 24 (or so) hours from now.

big huge major

2010-05-07T08:00:00.003-06:00

So this week made the mistake (mistake! dumb, dumb dumb) of sending out a mass email inviting all and sundry to come and cheer me on on Sunday. I know it would really help me if my loved ones popped up along the way. But then came the "I can't make it" emails. Which is fine. I wasn't expecting everyone to come. If no one came, would I still run the race? Yes, because I'm not doing it for anyone else but me. But it was a dumb idea because now I feel worse that I invited people and they're not coming than I would have if I hadn't invited them and they weren't coming, if that makes sense. I am high up on the "self-obsessed" scale of personal self-interest. I get that. Also, high up on the "I must control every tiny aspect of my life" chart.

Sometimes I just can't help myself. You know how something happens to you, or you plan something and it totally and completely takes over your life? Where you have moments where you shake your head at other people because don't they KNOW that your flugelhorn recital is on Saturday? This is a big huge major deal for me, but for me. Not anyone else. I'm obsessed with it because I've spent the past four months' worth of weekends running for hours at a time. Weeknights of 7 and 8 mile runs, in rain and snow and dark. I have clothes with Gatorade stains (and man, that stuff can stain). I am sunburned and freckled and on my second pair of running shoes for the year. I'm closing in on 400 miles logged on my Garmin. So yeah, big huge major. But aside from Mr. Bump and a couple of close friends, no one else is bound to get it. It's day after day of not just the runs themselves, but planning runs, researching gear and fuel, and stretching. Oh the stretching. And if you didn't have a ringside seat for all of it, picking me up with a cooler full of ice packs and chocolate milk, making dinner because I don't get home from my after-work run until seven o'clock, always asking me "How was your run?" and buying me pepper spray after that one dodgy by the train tracks run--well then of course you don't get it. My marathon is just way too early and too far away and right smack dab in the middle of your Sunday morning.

But that's ok. Because I know your trip to South America or your dog training class or Mother's Day aren't on my radar, but they're your big huge major deal. And I probably won't appreciate how hard you've worked, or how much energy went into your big huge major. Maybe because you haven't told me about it, or I haven't listened well. It may even be that we haven't connected lately enough to know what's going on with each other. And that's just how it goes.

Just so you know, Mr. Bump will be there, Mrs. Bump my mother-in-law will be there. My parents will be there. Mr. Bump's aunt will be there. I'll get plenty of love and cheers. And every single person I've heard from that can't come? They've all promised to keep me in their thoughts Sunday morning. The security guard at work who's from Boston and has run the Boston Marathon 3 times? He's going to be thinking about me and wondering how I'm doing. My co-worker the triathelete? She's going to remember me when she's out on her Sunday morning run. And you all--I'm sure you will too. So what am I whining about? I have absolutely no idea.

I'm glad we had this talk. I feel so much better.

three days

2010-05-06T17:30:00.001-06:00

Had a horrible run on Tuesday. Horrible. My knee hurt a lot, I was really hot, my heart rate kept spiking. Frequently I found myself walking instead of running without consciously thinking, "I should stop and walk." My body apparently had some say in that decision. I iced my knee and pounded some advil when I got home, and it seems better now. But what the hell? I might be freaking out. A little. Ish. Maybe.

My tummy has been bothering me the last couple of days, too, which is throwing off my eating. I don't know if it's nerves or the advil I've been taking. I've had a couple of stuffy noses, but I think those are allergies. I'm paranoid something is going to happen in the next three days that would force me to DNS (did not start, not to be confused with DNF, did not finish). I'm supposed to run a 3-miler tonight, but I'm worried about my knee and not sure I want to push it before Sunday. Will missing a single 3 mile run ruin my marathon abilities? I don't think so. So I'm done with running before Sunday. Tonight I'll stretch out well, and take a hot bath. Tomorrow I'll sleep in for as long as I can, and take a nap in the afternoon if at all possible. I will be rested. I will be ready.

I've got some things to do in the next couple of days which will keep me busy, like sorting out my gear, making Mr. Bump a birthday cake. I'm trying to just distract myself as much as possible at this point. Lately I've been using these as a point of distraction:

Pretty, no? These beauties might just keep me going at mile 18, if no one is there to cheer me on. If I make it through, who knows? Anything might be possible. The world just might crack wide open and these might fall into my lap.

five days

2010-05-04T17:30:00.002-06:00

I'm so keyed up that I'm low on words, at least words that aren't expletives. But this poem was in my feed reader from a few days ago, and while it isn't about running per se, still it seems to resonate with me. There comes a point in every race (usually in the first couple of miles) where everyone in the pack is pounding along, breathing, making the turns in the course together.

Blackbirds
by Julie Cadwallader Staub

I am 52 years old, and have spent
truly the better part
of my life out-of-doors
but yesterday I heard a new sound above my head
a rustling, ruffling quietness in the spring air

and when I turned my face upward
I saw a flock of blackbirds
rounding a curve I didn't know was there
and the sound was simply all those wings
just feathers against air, against gravity
and such a beautiful winning
the whole flock taking a long, wide turn
as if of one body and one mind.

How do they do that?

Oh if we lived only in human society
with its cruelty and fear
its apathy and exhaustion
what a puny existence that would be

but instead we live and move and have our being
here, in this curving and soaring world
so that when, every now and then, mercy and tenderness triumph in our lives
and when, even more rarely, we manage to unite and move together
toward a common good,

and can think to ourselves:

ah yes, this is how it's meant to be.

courtesy of The Writer's Almanac

Six days

2010-05-03T17:30:00.097-06:00

Final week. I've run my last long run before the race. I've got a 4 miler tomorrow and a 3 miler on Thursday. And that's it. I've done all I can do. I'm prepared as I'll get. The rest is all downhill. Kinda literally. Mr. Bump and I drove the course over the weekend, and it is 90% downhill. And twisty/turn-y. There is really no way to run it unless they have traffic blocked off, as they will on Sunday. But I've run all the portions you can run without orange cones in the road. My shoes are broken in, I've gotten comfortable with my fuel belt, and all that's left to do is hydrate, eat well, get as much rest as I can, and decide what to wear. I intend to go through my gear and post some pictures of my running stuff. We'll see if that happens.

I've got a couple of body parts that are nagging at me, and I'm going to acknowledge them and then tuck them away. They aren't going to prevent me from running the marathon, so I'll just have to live with them. The inside of my left knee, just to the left of my kneecap, has been bothering me off and on for the last couple of weeks. But it seems to respond to ice and Advil, so I'll keep on that this week. My right hip has a spot that's painful when I poke on it or do a hula-hoop hip stretch, but otherwise doesn't bug me too much. It doesn't seem to respond to ice or heat or ibuprofen or anything. I think it might be something like bursitis, in which case it is what it is, and probably only rest will make it better.

Currently the weather is looking pretty good. High of 62, low of 43, partly cloudy, 20% chance of rain. There is a real possibility of that changing in the next few days, however, and that weather forecast isn't for up in the canyon. It's bound to be colder, probably in the 30s. And shady.

But the truth is all of these factors (except possibly for the nagging body parts) are external. And so much of this whole thing is mental. I'm trying my best with that part. I've been reading Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, and there's a part where he talks about running a 62 mile Ultramarathon. He hits a point where he begins to run on autopilot and I'm trying to cement that experience, that state of being in my mind. I believe I reached it in the last two miles of my 20 mile run a few weeks ago, so I sort of know what he's talking about. This is what he says (his experience in the passage below occurs at around mile 47):

My muscles silently accepted this exhaustion now as a historical inevitability, an ineluctable outcome of the revolution. I had been transformed into a being on autopilot, whose sole purpose was to rhythmically swing his arms back and forth, move his legs forward one step at a time. I didn't think about anything. I didn't feel anything. I realized all of a sudden that even physical pain had all but vanished. Or maybe it was shoved into some unseen corner, like some ugly furniture you can't get rid of....I was in the midst of deep exhaustion that I'd totally accepted, and the reality was that I was still able to continue running, and for me there was nothing more I could ask of the world.

Sine I was on autopilot, if someone had told me to keep on running, I might well have run beyond sixty-two miles. It's weird, but at the end I hardly knew who I was or what I was doing. This should have been a very alarming feeling, but it didn't feel that way. By then running had entered the realm of the metaphysical. First there came the action of running, and accompanying it there was this entity know as me. I run; therefore I am.

This is what I'm aiming for, around mile 17. At the end of every long run in my training, I would think about how I was feeling at the end of it, trying to decide if I had x (if x represents run + x = marathon) left in me. And I never was sure that I could continue until I got to the end of the 20 mile run. In the last two miles of that run, I began to think that it wouldn't matter if I ran another 2 or another 6.2. It was all going to be the same. That's the moment Murakami is talking about, I think. Letting go of the mileage and just living in the physical process of putting one foot in front of the other.

Wish me luck.

OMG

2010-04-18T15:31:00.000-06:00

I did it. I ran 20 f*ing miles today. The last two were really hard. I'm really tired. Enjoy this while I take a nap.

Official chip time: 2:20:28

2010-04-14T17:30:00.002-06:00

My badass self

Thanks to fotojack.com

More photos by Mr. Bump:

We'll just ignore the fact that last night's run was horrible: uphill, headwind, leg hurting, and accidentally half a mile short. Sigh. Back to reality.

2:21:21

2010-04-11T12:49:00.000-06:00

So. I've sat down to blog no fewer than 7 times. I've composed no fewer than 15 or so blog posts on my commute home from work, whether I'm running home or taking the bus. But often at the end of the run or the end of the day I've been really tired. I'm falling asleep on the couch almost every night. And training takes up a lot of time when I'm not tired. But hi! I'm alive, things are going along, check check check. I've only missed one run so far, on Friday, because my knee hurt. But I'm glad I took the day off. I think it helped me in the Half-Marathon I ran today. What's that, you say? You ran a half-marathon this weekend? You so crazy!

Let me explain. In preparing for my marathon, one of the things "they" suggest you do is run another race or two of a shorter distance as part of your training. So I signed up for the Platte Half-Marathon, which I signed up for at the end of February and promptly (and frequently) forgot about. But time marches on, and this morning was the race. It was at the most reasonable hour of 9 am, which was quite lovely. The course was nice, mostly downhill(ish), although it didn't feel downhill at the time, and the volunteers were great. There was plenty of water, unlike some other half marathons I could mention (ahem). And best of all I had a PR that was 18-20 minutes faster than my last half. The 2:21 above was the time my Garmin gave me afterward, but I forgot to hit stop when I crossed the finish line so there's a little extra there. But I rather like a time of 2:21:21.

I'm pretty pumped about my time. I felt strong the whole time, and while I knew I was pushing myself, I didn't feel like I was going to bonk. I thought well, let's just see how far we can go at this pace. And wouldn't you know it I made it for the whole thing. 13.1 miles at a 10 minute 30 second per mile pace. I ran the whole way--no walk breaks. I passed people, which seems miraculous to me. I high-fived people who were cheering us on along the way. Even though I didn't run with anyone I knew, or really chat with anyone during the race, I felt so much support from those people cheering along. There's something about that solid slap of a hand that just spurs you on. Every high-five pushed me to pick up the pace. And even on that last bloody steep hill, I just kept running. I passed people. Granted, I wasn't going very fast, and one of the people I passed was a woman who was apparently passing out as I passed her (hope she's ok). When I finally saw Mr. Bump I just sprinted to the finish. I wanted to see him so bad, and there he was. Where he always is--waiting for me at the finish line.

There are really very few times in this process that you feel like you are getting better. I know I've been running further than I ever have (eighteen miles last weekend!) and that is mind boggling to me as well. But today felt like tangible proof that I'm getting better. That I can push myself pretty hard and be ok. That I might just be able to go the distance on May 9th.

misery is optional

2010-03-08T08:32:00.014-07:00

Yes, my friends, I did decide to run after all. Here's the proof:

This was a PDR for me (personal distance record), and I'm so crazy proud of myself. Even though I hurt like hell last night, and I've got a bit of soreness in my hip, the fact that I rested Friday and Saturday really seemed to help. Ice on Friday, heat on Saturday and there were no twinges by Sunday. I decided to give it a try, promising myself that I'd quit if I started hurting. And admittedly, miles 12 through 14 were a bit painful, but the pain was in my right front groin to hip area and there was nothing to do but finish at that point, so I just kept on. I always joke that, especially with out and back routes, once I turn around I'm like a horse headed back to the barn. I'll just go and go and go until I get there. The last four miles of this run were like that for me. It's all bearable if I know there's lying down and chocolate milk waiting for me. This works for me, and I'm hoping to use this in the marathon, which is point-to-point rather than out and back. Which means that every step I take is one back to the barn.

I've been reading (off and on, haltingly) Haruki Murakami's book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, in which he says "Pain is inevitable. Misery is optional." I definitely had this on my mind yesterday miles 12-14, and I've decided to use this as my mantra for this next phase of the training. I'm going to hurt. But what I do with that pain is up to me. I can wallow in it, let it affect my attitude and my run. Or I can acknowledge it, be aware of it, but run beside it. This of course can backfire if you're actually injured, and you shouldn't be setting the pain aside, but I (mostly) know the difference between a tight muscle and an intense jabbing pain in my hind end.

I think it helped that I ran on dirt roads, and didn't have the camber that I usually deal with on asphalt, or the pounding that happens on a concrete trail. I met one cow that had managed to get past her electric fence, a few dogs that were ambivalent to my presence on the road, even more that weren't (oh the jumping and the barking that went on (thankfully) behind fences), dropped my water bottle and had to backtrack for it, and discovered I don't like Gu Chomps. The orange flavor tasted like an orange Ricola cough drop. My go-to is still Cliff Shot Blocks, in case you care, which so far have been the only thing I'm able to choke down while running. But all in all the run gets a thumbs up. It was fairly quiet and traffic free, and almost every driver slowed down and moved way over when they came upon me.

If you're interested, you can check out the details with my Garmin data here: Garmin Connect - Activity Details for 3/7/10 14 Mile Run. The interesting thing about this data is you can see exactly where I jog back to get my water bottle, where I thought the cow was going to get me so I turned tail and went another direction. I think the data is really cool. I geek out over it all the time.

And now I'm going to try and keep my head off the desk at work today, and count the hours until my massage tonight. Never was a massage more yearned for, at least by me.

no thanks, i'll stand

2010-03-05T17:30:00.013-07:00

I'm calling it. It's official. I have a running injury. And it's humorously placed in my--wait for it--hiney. Dead center in the right quadrant. Guess what makes it hurt the most? Sitting. Guess what my whole day involves at work? Again, sitting.

Wanna see where it hurts? Here's a rendering:

Note: rendering is not to scale

I will admit that it was a stupid idea to try and run last night, but I am stubborn, and goal-oriented. Also task-driven. It hurt yesterday, but I decided to do a brief run anyway. I ended up doing 4 1/2 miles Shut up, I know that's not brief. But! It felt ok when I was running! And I'm obviously stupid.

I must also admit that I was crossing my fingers that I'd make it through this training without an injury. But that ship has apparently sailed. So I'm mainlining and alternating Advil and Tylenol (not really helping so much, sadly). Last night I did a bunch of gentle stretching after my run, and iced my butt. And still it woke me up at 3:30. So I found that sleeping on my back with my knees bent is the best posture. It really seems to be a pressure thing. Probably the stretching/tightening the muscle in any way isn't helpful.

So, let's take a poll--is it insanely crazy to run 14 miles tomorrow, or just crazy? I'm really afraid that this won't go away, and I think that I should probably just rest it for a few days and see how it does. But it doesn't hurt when I'm running, only when I'm sitting. So maybe I should run and not sit for a few days? Yeah, I'm not even really convincing myself. But I was really excited about this run. The weather is supposed to be lovely. I've never run that far before, which feels like a Big Deal. I'm all for Big Deals.

Also, I'm really task/goal-oriented. I want to be on track, and stay there. I don't have a lot of leeway in terms of "make-ups" for my long runs. I don't know what to do.

Actually, I do know what to do, but I just don't want to. Wah! Boo!

This is just another good reason to hate my rear.

never fear husband's here

2010-02-24T18:00:00.001-07:00

So Mr. Bump fixed the water heater yesterday morning after I left for work. It was the thermocoupley thingamabob-a-jiggety-dodad-bit. Or something like that. But all that happened after I left for work with a gym bag full of toiletries and a beanie cap full of bedhead, to shower once I got there. But I must say a big Hip Hip Hooray to Mr. Bump! I love my husband for many reasons, but the fact that he's handy surely is one of the reasons I think he's a Choo-Choo Charlie. :)

no day is a good day

2010-02-23T07:17:00.001-07:00

There is no good day that begins without hot water. Sigh.

i am a badass

2010-02-19T18:30:00.001-07:00

Yes, yes I am! Last night I ran five miles in the snow and wind. Uphill. All the way (almost). Srsly, I am kick-ass. And it wasn't just a little snow. I had to wipe it off my eyes so I could see where I was going, and brush it off my jacket. Like, multiple times.

We are expecting another 2-4 inches tomorrow, just in time for my scheduled 12 mile run. I'm going to be running with a group. I don't know how that'll go.We'll see. If nothing else I can put my headphones on and just pretend I'm by myself. The good thing is that the course is marked (at least, it will be under the snow) and they provide water and candy (!) along the way.

Everything else with the running seems to be going ok. I bought this thing called a foam roller, which basically looks like a 4 foot tall blue tampon (mine's 2 feet long and orange, but still an odd thing). Here's a picture, courtesy of Dick's Sporting Goods' website:

Basically you but your body on it and apply the pressure of your body weight. Then you roll back and forth on the floor. I use it on my calves, my butt, my hamstrings, my IT band on my hip. Usually after my run I do an exploratory roll to see what hurting, then spend some time concentrating on that area. It's a hurt so good kind of thing. I can feel myself tightening up if I don't use it. It really makes a difference. Highly recommend.

So I've got one more week (after this weekend) in the first phase of my training. After that, I'll be headed into the land of Runs Longer than Ever Before. Fourteen miles, twelve, sixteen, fourteen, eighteen, ten (so easy!), twenty. This will be the hardest part of the training, I think. Part of what makes it so hard is the increase in miles during the week as well. Increasing from 6 miles to 8 on Tuesdays, and 6 or 7 miles on Thursday. It's just a lot to get in after work.

I have found my eating to be out of control lately. I just can't stop myself from eating crap--mostly straight up sugar. Maybe it's my body's way of trying to recoup it's glycogen, or my minds way of saying "Hey, you're doing all this exercise! We need some reward!" But whatever it is, my weight seems to be holding steady despite inhaling anything sweet I find that isn't fuzzed over with lint or gone stale. But while I haven't gained weight, I do feel a little squidgier around the middle bit. So I'm going to have to work on pulling back the reins. It would also be nice to weigh a bit less by race time. According to this article, you gain a 1% improvement for every 1% of weight you lose. It makes sense, but given my inability to stop my fingers from finding the M&M bowl, it's a lofty goal at this point.

I promised myself I wasn't going to try and lose any weight while I was training for the marathon, but I would love to speed up a bit, and I've been reading all this stuff about fructose, how it converts to fat, and where that fat hangs out (guess where--squidgy middle!). I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I'm trying to figure it out. Any tips or thoughts are greatly appreciated.

I almost forgot one other thing. I had a dream the other night that I was at the starting line, and I was loose, excited, ready to go. The only thing that was stressing me out was worrying that I would run out of music during the marathon. I'm planning/hoping to run it in about 5 hours 30 minutes. That's a long playlist to put together. So here's my call to all y'all. What's your favorite up beat go-to workout/running music? I'll post my playlist of 100 or so songs soon, and we can compare notes!

the car goes where your eyes go

2010-02-04T18:30:00.001-07:00

So this wasn't a Pullitzer Prize winning book, but I loved The Art of Racing in the Rain and I got something out of it that has stuck with me. That which you manifest is before you. I'm sorry if it's cheesy to quote a book, but it was a good book. I cried my eyes out over it on the way back from Africa at that phrase (and other parts of the book too). I encourage you to read this book if you haven't yet. Yes, if you have even a black nubbin of a soul you'll cry. But it's a good read. And I can't get that idea out of my head. It reminds me of the setting my intentions I did at the beginning of last year, which was very successful for me. Goals are good. But planning and focusing are better.

Anyone else have a book they've read that was surprisingly resonant?

the grand experiment

2010-02-03T18:30:00.002-07:00

So, just after the start of the year our cable/internet/phone bill jumped about $50.00. Considering how little TV we watch, that seemed an unreasonable additional amount to pay. In our house, the cable bill has oft come under fire as an expense to jettison, but we had one of those bundle things where it is actually more expensive just to have internet and phone than all three. But, at $160.00 a month, we figured it had to be cheaper to just do phone and internet. Mr. Bump was shaking-fist-at-the-sky outraged, and began to pursue other alternatives to our current plan. Eventually he came up with a plan which reduced our phone and internet to $50.00 a month. Long distance will be more, and we’ll see if it ends up being cheaper to do long distance via our pre-paid cell phones (we don’t use a cell enough to justify a monthly plan) or just paying for those charges as we go. Essentially the only consistent long distance calls we make or receive are to my mom and Mrs. Bump (my mother-in-law). This plan also limits our speed of uploads/downloads, but so far it hasn’t been a big deal. We’ll see how we go on that, and we can always upgrade that for (I think) $10 a month or so.

All that to say that when we got home from Kansas City on Monday, all our cable was gone. We’d returned the cable box a week before, but were still getting analog cable for about a week. This was a good way to ease out of it, I must say. But now it is gone. No more channel surfing when I’m sick (this is one of the few times we (I) actually watched live tv).

When we started talking about doing this we looked at exactly what programs we DVR’d, and how crucial it was to see them when they came out. Then we scoured the internet for ways to stream these programs without having to pay for them. Pretty much all of them can be obtained one place or another online, which was a big part of allowing me to let go of cable. The other thing that made it a go was being able to stream Netflix on the Xbox. A lot of stuff is available to view even before a season is over, which is awesome. And you know what? When it comes down to it, it isn’t the end of the world to wait until I can get the whole next season of House and watch it all at once.

How do I feel about all this? We have friends who did this a few years ago, after an ongoing struggle with their HOA about where they could place their satellite dish. So we kind of knew what to expect. We also didn’t actually watch TV that much. We’re busy people. I’m training for a marathon. David’s doing the APAD project (check it out--it's cool!), which entails scrounging up a subject for a photo every day. We have a trip to Italy to plan! We have weeks (like this one), where one (or both) of us is gone almost every night of the week. We’re home on less than half of the weekends in a year. We just aren’t around enough to justify it. Certainly not enough to spend an extra $1200 a year on it. That’s a weeklong trip somewhere! (Hello Vancouver, I still would really like to meet you even though we can’t seem to sync up.)

It does sort of feel like swinging without a net, somehow. How will I entertain myself? How will I check out of my world when I’m stressed? Oh yeah. I’ll read. Or watch DVDs. Or some of the old episodes of Kight Rider or the A-Team that you can stream on Netflix. Talk about escapism! Man, those are bad. Very funny bad. So the whole thing seems anti-climactic, is what I guess I’m saying.

I don’t expect many problems with missing it. The worst will be the look on my dad’s face when I tell him he can’t watch the football game when he and Mom come down on a Sunday. Sorry Dad!

P.S. Marathoning is going ok. The travel is killing me, though. I think I’m just going to have to put my foot down and say we stay home this spring. After President’s Day weekend. Right now I’m trying to get all my workouts in, study up on the right nutrition, and learn about stretching. Also may take a yoga class on Mondays, and think about a couple deep tissue massages in the interest of keeping things flexible.

work trip

2010-01-27T21:22:00.000-07:00

I'm on a work trip at the moment, which is a first for me. First time to be traveling for work. First time to be checked-in at a hotel by myself in 11 years. First time in almost that long to be sleeping far away from Mr. Bump. It's exciting and a fun challenge and all that stuff. But I've gotta say I miss my man. Sappy, I know, but true. He's my best friend. My right hand (I'll be the left one, it has the diamonds!;) ) He's it, kids. He's the one.

I'll have to give you more of a run-down on our weekend in Kansas City later. Mr. Bump is flying out to meet me tomorrow afternoon, and we're going to kick our heels up in both Kansas AND Missouri! I know, crazy. Who else but a crazy person would go to Kansas City in January? But we're going to check out the town and go see a dear old friend in Columbia, MO. And somewhere in there I'm going to run 9 miles in weather that maxes out at 25 degrees and 60 percent humidity! Good times.

Lastly, there was a woman on the plane who was really large. She had a hard time getting into or out of the seat, and she had to ask for a seatbelt extender from the flight attendant. Traveling mid-day and mid-week, she was able to have the extra room so that there was no one in the seat next to her. I felt both sympathy for her and horror at how close I came to that. She handled herself with aplomb and dignity, and I admire her for that. I don't ever want to get to that place. Of all the things that made me lose weight, being able to travel was one of the greatest motivator. Whether that's to Kansas City or to places further afield. I just want to say thank you to her, the woman in seat 11D from Denver to Kansas City. For reminding me of why I'll be running those 9 miles this weekend.

Happy travels, everyone.

where drivel is sometimes spoken

2010-01-14T13:35:00.003-07:00

Apparently today is National Delurking Day. I love it! I must say I always feel like no one reads this, that I'm just putting stuff down here for myself, Mr. Bump, and a couple of friends who I know read but who I also keep updated through normal channels. So sometimes it feels redundant to put some stuff down here. I need to let go of the idea of an audience and just write--that certainly used to be the way I approached this. Not sure what changed. I signed up for Google Analytics, which gives you all sorts of cool-e-o data about your blog, your traffic and page views, etc. And while I don't get a ton of traffic, I was surprised by how much I did get. And where in the world it comes from.

I plan on de-lurking from five of the blogs on my Google Reader today, and I challenge you to do the same (hopefully one of those is mine, but if not, that's ok). Post a comment here when you read this, whether it's today, tomorrow, or some day far in the future, when you're pawing through my archives because you can't get enough of me (Hi you!). Ahem.

Anyway, welcome! I'm glad you're out there. I hope you enjoy my drivel! I would love to know you. Ask a question, link to your blog, or just put a little "hi" in the comments to this post. You don't have to same I'm awesome (unless you just can't help yourself). Just say hiya. I'll give you a little wave back.

P.S. I had my first spam comment the other day (so honored!). Let me just say, that kind of comment will get deleted with a swiftness. I have no desire to turn on comment moderation but I'll do it if the spam happens again. :)

other goals may include

2010-01-06T21:33:00.000-07:00

Aside from the marathon, here are some of the other things set as my intentions for 2010:

Read 100 books this year (hence the Good Reads thingy over on the right).

Lose that pesky last 10 pounds between me and a "healthy" BMI.

Spend less money ~~on crap~~.

Learn some Italian.

What are your plans for 2010?

so, yeah

2010-01-06T21:17:00.001-07:00

Christmas was ok, wasn't it? I mean it wasn't perfect, I was way behind schedule on my Christmas cards, and they didn't in fact go out until after Christmas, but oh well. I got myself into a heavy schedule of pre-Christmas Barefoot Bakery cookie plate nonsense, but I think I handled that ok. Everyone got what they ordered. So what if my dining room and some portions of my kitchen look like several strategic sprinkle and ribbon mortars were detonated?

Despite some nasty traveling weather on Christmas Eve Eve, we had lovely Christmas days with both my family and Mr. Bump's family, got lots of great loot, and ate lots and lots and LOTS of cookies. I even managed to get a couple of runs in during that weekend, despite the cold and snow and ice.*

Mr. Bump gave me a Garmin 310XT for Christmas, which I totally completely and utterly love. So much data! At your fingertips! It's going to require fiddling and fussing to get it set up exactly how I want it, but it's really really cool. You can download your data and track it on Google Maps.

New Year's was eh. We didn't do our traditional movie marathon with Mrs. Bump, and instead we sat around reading until Mr. Bump fell asleep in front of the fire sitting up at 10:30. Both he and Mrs. Bump toddled off to bed around then, and I sat by myself in front of the fire and read my book until 1 am. That's right, I rang in 2010 by myself. Reading a book and drinking a mug of cocoa. Golly, I bring the party, don't I?

So in between finishing my book and sipping on my non-alcoholic bevvy, I began thinking about what I wanted to accomplish in 2010, where I planned to focus my intentions, etc. It took me a couple of days to get them all lined up, but one thing rose to the top. Let me explain the chain of events.

First, I eat waaay too much over Christmas weekend, and then the following week the gym is closed at work so I can't work out there, so I'm in a panic about weight gain! and backsliding! and so I set up an intense running schedule for New Year's weekend, because that's what you do on New Year's Day--you start over.

But then, I neglect to remind Mr. Bump to grab my running shoes from under the bench by the front door. He doesn't think of it, because they aren't his shoes and he's not a mind reader. I don't think of this or remember it until we're actually an hour north of our house, which is approximately 5 minutes prior to pulling up at my mother-in-law's house.

So I decide that I might as well go buy a new pair of running shoes, because I'm going to need a new pair soon, and so I'll do that and I'll be able to run. So on New Year's Day, I go to the running store, pick up my new shoes (they're pink!), and as I'm going to pay I say, "Oh yeah, and I need to sign up for the Colorado Marathon, too." (!!) It just popped out of my mouth. Well, sort of.

So I really wanted to run (or try to--there's a lottery) the Nike Women's Marathon next October, what with the Tiffany's necklace finisher's medal and all, I felt like if I was going to do it, I might as well get a blue box from Tiffany's out of it, right? But then we decided to go to Italy. Guess when we could go on frequent flyer tickets? Yep, October.

So no Nike Women's Marathon 2010--boo! If I didn't get in to the lottery for the NWM, my backup plan/thought was to run the Denver Marathon, which is the same weekend. So that one was out, too. I started hunting around for another one. There is the Boulder Backroads, which is the half-marathon I did in September. I really didn't want to do that one again, what with the hot and the hills and the poor organization--running out of water, etc. I know I should give them another chance, but maybe not on my first marathon, mmkay?

Based on conversations with a marathoner friend who has done a few destination races, I decided I wanted to do one on home turf, where people I know can cheer me on. But here the marathon season is either May or September/October. So then I looked at the possibilities in May. Which came down to either the Colorado Marathon or the Colfax Marathon. One is a downhill course through the scenic Poudre Canyon. The other is on Colfax, which if you are at all familiar with Denver, is a big long stretch of asphalt that is in no way scenic.

So by process of elimination I had narrowed the choices, but I honestly wasn't planning on signing up so soon. But then I realized that if I was going to do the Colorado Marathon, I should start training, like, now-ish. And if you're at the running store, and they have the sign-up sheet there, now-ish starts right at that very moment.

The shoes I bought were the fourth pair of running shoes I've bought. The first pair I bought was on New Year's Day 2009. When I bought them I couldn't run a mile. One year later I'm signing up for a marathon. If you had told me this would be my future I would have laughed. Loudly.

What a crazy year this has been. I feel really grateful for all the experiences 2009 offered up. I appreciate every person who said "good job" or sent me an email or a comment. Every one who came out to see me race, or even just cheered me (and everyone else) on from the sidelines. Everyone who noticed those 50 pounds slip away. I'm grateful for these two, also:

Mr. Bump spent a lot of nights giving me room to exercise, being supportive of my healthy eating goals. And the Ru-hound spent a lot of time waiting for me to come home so that she could give me supportive licks. I appreciate their sacrifices so much I'm going to ask them to go around again. I've got 18 weekends of long runs, and some fairly significant mid-week runs ahead of me. At the moment, it's very cold and very dark outside. We've gotten 3 inches of snow today and it is supposed to get down to zero tonight. I keep getting these little panicky shocks every time I look at the calendar and realize there will come a day at the beginning of April where I will have to go for a 20 mile run. And then on Mother's Day I'll have to add 6.2 on to that. I honestly don't know how it's going to play out, but I have a new toy and a new pair of running shoes. I'm going to just keep putting one run in front of the other and see how it goes. I'll let you know.

Oh, and once I cross that finish line? I'm buying myself my very own blue box.

New year, new shoes, new goal

2010-01-04T22:00:00.001-07:00

New year, new shoes, new goal, originally uploaded by LANABUMP.

I'm pretty sure I have no idea what I've gotten myself into, but at least I've gotten myself into it. I've got less than 18 weeks to figure it out.

GOOOOOOOAAAAALLL!

2010-01-03T19:34:00.001-07:00

***I started this post on Thursday, but one thing and another...

In a moment of ridiculous symmetry, I took down the calendar I use to record my weight every morning and flipped back to 12/31/08. One year ago today I weighed exactly 50 pounds more than I did this morning. It was a nice little coda on the year to have the numbers work out like that.

So that leads us to the oh-so-obvious question of what next? The 2010 resolutions have been scattered all over my Google Reader, in between all of the 2009 year-end roundups. I'm not sure I want to do either one, and generally I find it best to keep those kinds of goals under the radar. Just best to keep your head down and work on them. So for the moment, that's what I'm going to do. But I'm just as likely to change my mind and blab about them tomorrow, so keep checking back. :)

Officially Old

2009-11-30T09:13:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling it today when I saw this. (Yes, I hit People's website occasionally--don't judge.)

One of those things that makes you Officially Old is when you can distinctly remember seeing a movie in the theater and they are now remaking it. With the child of an actor your age(ish) as the star. Ugh.

Up

2009-11-20T21:44:00.000-07:00

I'm up in Northern Colorado for the weekend, and my internet connection is a bit slow, so I'll try to do the best I can. Today's post is randomness at best.

We finally watched Up tonight with Mrs. Bump--very funny. I am always wary of movies everyone says I must see, but everyone who told me that was right about this movie. It's about time Ed Asner got back in the game.
Today was my day off and I didn't run. There--I admitted it! (I'm still working through the shame I've got all over me in the process, but that's another Oprah.) I did, however, fill the car with gas, get the oil changed, do a Target run without purchasing a single item of clothing, bake a test batch of shortbread and go to a cake decorating supply store to pick up a bunch of cake boxes. The whole store was fascinating, but probably only for someone who gets excited when s/he sees a kind of decorative sugar s/he hasn't seen before.
I do, however, plan on going for a run tomorrow morning on my way to breakfast. I figure it's pretty failsafe. I get up, I run there, I eat, I've exercised and I can have Mr. Bump get me back home in the car. Yay! I'll let you know how it goes.
I promise promise promise to have some better content in the next few days. Also some stories from our trip. Things haven't been very fun, funny or fun to read around here, I know.
The only funny thing that happened today was that I was getting things ready to go to drive up north today and Ruby figured out what was happening. I was coming up the stairs from the garage and she was standing at the top of the stairs. She let out a sort of bow-wow-WOW! of joy, as if it was her only way of fully expressing how excited she was.
Also, I have been introduced to this website, which you must visit now and often. This is totally my sense of humor--funny weird roadsigns.
This is the last bullet point. It is content free. Goodnight.

the wheels on the horse go round and round

2009-11-19T22:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's hard to know what comes first. It's that chicken vs. egg thing (which is just silly, really, because the answer is, of course, it depends). But for me the question is did the poor eating cause me to have diminished energy, which made me feel like I didn't have enough energy to run or exercise in any way? Or does the lack of exercise reduce my energy, mess with my brain chemicals enough to make me feel crappy, which makes me want to eat?

At the end of the day it only really matters inasmuch as if I know what faltered first, maybe I can figure out how to get the wheels back on this horse. And by wheels I mean exercise. And by horse I mean my fat ass. Look, I know that I've not really gained any weight, which is a good thing. But I feel pretty squishy in the midsection, and I feel like I could see a backslide (slide, not side) from where I'm at right now. I keep trying to recommit! and get back on track! and Do! Everything! Right!

Or maybe just one thing. The problem is that I've just not been able to get any of those decisions off the ground. And it's a vicious cycle (back to chicken vs. egg). I don't exercise. I feel bad. I eat because I feel bad about myself and hopeless about my commitment. I feel bad. I don't have the energy to exercise because I feel bad and I've eaten poorly. You can see how this isn't exactly productive.

I could easily blame all this on the trip to Africa. If only I hadn't stopped exercising for three weeks, this never would have happened. But I know that I was toast before I left. I got so burned out on running while training for the half-marathon that I just wanted to finish. So badly. I really got in the mindset that eventually I would be "done." And so somewhere in my mind I think the moment I crossed the finish line my motivation stood up, shut the lights off, and locked the door. And even before that, for months (maybe since March), my eating habits had been pretty much what I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I was burning it all off with loads of exercise, so my consumption was justified, wasn't it? And it did work. I lost about 15-20 pounds from March until August.

But now that I find myself here, at a place that is emotionally and mentally similar to where I was a year ago, and I'm wondering what the hell kind of progress have I made in a year? What has been the point of all this? I truly believe in that last 15 pounds I have to lose. They're real, I can point to them on my person, and I'm not having body dysmorphia about them. But I also know that there is something really scary about losing all the weight, and being "done." If I'm done, then what? How do I deal with it? How do I maintain "done"? So maybe some of my self-sabotage stems from that. Then again it may stem from just being worn out by weight loss. Maybe I just need a maintenance break.

Which is all fine and good, but none of that means that I get to just stop running or working out. And if I don't get to stop doing that, then I might as well just keep at it. That's the bulk of the work anyway, isn't it?

I'm not sure what I'm going to do, which is very hard on me. I need a goal, a purpose, something that I'm working toward. I don't have that right now, and a physical goal is apparently very important to my successful weight loss. So I can't sign up for the Nike Women's Marathon yet (they start the lottery in February, I think). I need something closer to now to work toward. It can be anything, I'm open to suggestion. Just as long as it isn't the 30 Day Shred. That crap starts to hurt my knees at about Day 13.

Help me! I'd appreciate a plan, a suggestion, some advice. I'm all at sea over this. And the sea is filled with m&m sharks. And they're circling. Anyone? Please?

no. 201

2009-11-18T22:49:00.003-07:00

Hey how 'bout that? Last night's poor me post was my 200th! How appropriate that I would miss the opportunity to reflect on my last 200 blog entries because I was navel gazing at my own pity party. But enough of that.

I went with a co-worker tonight to see Anthony Bourdain speak and do a Q&A at the Buell Theater. He was hilarious and had some nice comparisons to make between Sandra Lee and the Undead, but I'll leave you with the tidbit that's swimming around in my brain. Toward the end of the Q&A (and why do those things always have to have a creepy awkward stalkerish tone to them?) someone asked him for advice for their fifteen year-old. He laughed and started to move on to the next question then turned around and said something like, "You want some advice? If you say you're going to be somewhere at 8, show up at 5 minutes to 8. You can either be the kind of person who says he's going to do something and does it, or you can be everyone else."

So I'm lying in bed, it's a half hour past my bedtime already, and I remember I haven't blogged yet today. Eh, fuck it, I think. It ain't going to happen. But then comes that little gravely voice of Anthony Bourdain cursing like a sailor in my head and asking me what kind of person I am. I said I was going to do NaBloPoMo, and I'm doing it. So that's my bit of wisdom for today. I'm trying to parlay that into some sort of sage dieting/weight loss wisdom, without actually having to go into detail or flesh any of that out this evening. How am I doing?

Stick your bookmark right here. We'll come back to this tomorrow.

the Charlie Brown Effect

2009-11-17T22:26:00.000-07:00

You know how some weeks you can just sail through, executing perfect pirouettes and smiling like a beauty queen? Weeks where everything works the way you'd like it to, and each small success you achieve gets wrapped in a pretty ribbon and thrown on the Yay Me! pile?

Yeah, this isn't one of those. I'm struggling this week, just to get through every day with some shred of sanity. I have a Charlie Brown raincloud over my head and I just can't seem to shake it. And yeah, I am aware it is only Tuesday night.

All I can say is I'm working on it. And now that I've eaten the rest of the chocolate cake left over from this weekend, maybe working on it will get a bit easier. It just wouldn't stop tempting me. Now maybe we'll all get some sleep around here. That chocolate cake was like the telltale heart, I'm telling you!

I will leave you with a lovely image of the baklava I made tonight, which is one thing that I can wrap a pretty ribbon around and check off my list. I'll take what I can get. This is not for me (see above re: chocolate cake--I've learned my lesson on that), but the fulfillment of an order for a co-worker. I can't let you smell it or taste it, but it looks pretty good, right?

file this under: Oh Really?

2009-11-16T22:30:00.000-07:00

So I'm into making my own granola bars lately. That's kind of another story but since it has bearing on this I'll just say that they taste better if they're freshly made and I get to put in what I want, and leave out all the crap and especially all the raisins (again, crap) that are often in commercial granola bars.

So I'm looking for ingredients for my granola last night, and I have some dried blueberries, but not enough, but I think I have some down in our Millennium Rapture Food Stores (otherwise known as offsite storage) in our basement. I end up having two different containers of them, and some feel softer, and therefore I assume newer, so I rip into the bag. But they look, well, beat up. Which doesn't make much sense for dried fruit, particularly when none of the other dried blueberries look bad.

I show them to Mr. Bump, who reviews the package and its contents and comes up with this

The blueberries must look nasty because they are "bursting with natural flavor" and must have just overflowed..."just like Mother Nature intended!" Um, ok?

Then he turns the package over, just to see exactly what Mother Nature did, in fact, intend. Mostly by checking the ingredients:

Apparently Mother Nature intends for the blueberries to include HFCS, Corn Syrup, and Sucrose. Because Mother Nature intends for your dried fruit to be dried fruit plus some other added sweeteners, including some that are processed (and repeat after me kids) "Just Like Mother Nature Intended!"

Goodnight, and good luck with your dried fruit! I'll hit you with that granola recipe later.

it's a new day, a new week, a new closet

2009-11-15T17:21:00.000-07:00

The subject of this photo, both in the garbage bag and the pile, represents a much-needed purge of the coat closet. I'm going to donate all of this to Coats for Colorado, and I've been meaning to get to this project for a while, but I finally got to it this afternoon. In my defense, I will say that not a single one of these coats fit me now, and almost all of them did a year ago. And most of them were fairly inexpensive models from the likes of Target. But I have purchased a Very Expensive, Very Nice coat, which is winging its way from England. With my North Face coat system that made the cut from the above culling, I think my coat needs are satisfied. It feels good to know I can buy a Very Nice coat and that it will fit me a year from now and beyond. Y'all know I'm hoping planning on losing some more weight, but I plan for that junk to come out of my trunk, not through my shoulders. I trust that the Very Nice coat will fit me, come hell or high water.

I also bagged up a bag full of clothes that no longer fit, and I probably have another bag or two to go. It's hard to let go of things, for some reason. Partly because it feels like a waste, that I haven't worn them enough (or in some cases at all). Partly because it's a sort of security blanket. I don't plan on ever having to wear that stuff again. In fact, I plan on never having to wear it again. But I still struggle with getting rid of things. I've probably purged a good 12-15 big black garbage bags full of clothes. Now I know that that's way too many clothes, and I should just have a small wardrobe of really nice pieces, and all that crap. But I loathe laundry. So having to wash my 8-10 items of clothing every week ain't gonna happen. Plus, I have a varied closet personality. Sometimes I'm neutrals, sometimes I'm hot pink.

I've been working on a system where I put the clean clothes in the front of the closet, and as things seem to stagnate at the back, I just purge them out every month or two. But there are sometimes when it would be nice to have a line judge sitting in the corner of my bedroom. When I pull out that favorite cardigan that just happens to be too big for me now, s/he could yell "Fault!" An impartial observer of my closet would be a good thing. Let me know if you know anyone looking for that kind of work. Someone I wouldn't be creeped out by if they just sat in the corner of my bedroom every morning and armchair quarterbacked my daily morning ritual of pulling things out, trying them on, and tossing them on the reject pile on my bed. Also if s/he could go ahead and hang all those rejects back up after I head to work, that would be great too. The pay might be lousy, but the baked good benefits are outstanding. Also, we have a surfeit of warm cuddly dog which would be available for use.

ANYway, I'm proud of myself for finally amassing Coat Mountain. Now I just need to figure out some way to get all the coats to a Dependable Cleaners. Hrm. Mr. Bump suggested if I start with the smallest one first and work outward, maybe I could wear them in to work, and then peel them off at the cleaners across the street. His genius knows now bounds.

I'll let you know when Very Expensive Very Nice coat arrives. Until then I'm really glad the snow has stopped and it's supposed to be warm and clear this week. Onward! No looking back! Goodbye Coat Mountain!