Why wait for New Year's?

I've decided I can't afford to wait until new year's to make the changes I need. I've been in a depressive funk ever since mid-October, when my father died. My Aunt died just over a month later, and my unemployment runs out at the end of the month. These are what I blame for my non-stop face-stuffing and refusal to go to bed at anywhere near a decent hour.

This is me. Tired, after several nights of 4-5 hours sleep. Sad, because I'm not very happy with myself. I haven't been treating myself very well, and it's time for that to change.

My current long term goals are to lose weight, finish remodeling my parent's house, teach myself SQL, and get a job as a database administrator. I'm changing careers from administrative assistant to IT, with no job related experience to back me up. I don't have much faith in my on-line master's degree, so plan to teach myself a marketable skill as a way to sell myself to employers. That is the SQL. I can't get a database administrator job until I learn it, though I will start putting in an application a day starting January 1, for practice. I'll have at least a base knowledge at that point, enough to start selling myself.

My parent's house should be done some time in January. I've been remodeling it and renovating it for almost 18 months. I have already completed the entire 3rd floor (2 rooms and a bathroom), first and second floor hall including stairwell, front and back bedrooms, 2nd floor bathroom, and sewing room. I am currently working on the master bedroom and dressing room, with the kitchen and a first floor repaint still on the schedule. I need to finish this before I go back to work, as there will be little time after.

I want to get down to a size 8. I'm guessing that's around 30-40 lbs., and I know it's 4 pants sizes. I'm not as concerned with the numbers as I am with how I look and feel. This is how I look now.

There is some muscle under there, but there's a lot of there hiding it. I have a year-long marathon training plan I've been haphazardly following (read: doing most the runs and none of the cross-training).

So, what am I doing towards these goals?

The house remodel is taking care of itself. I work on it 4 days a week, for 3-6 hours depending on what needs to be done. The current schedule looks like this:

• Finish sanding mudding repairs on the master bedroom, dressing room and closet walls and ceiling. Hopefully I'll be done with this by the end of next week. This is the hardest part as it is physically exhausting and my back does not like the ceiling work
• Texture the ceiling. I think I can do this in one day, but it might take two. It's another project that is hard on my back and neck, as I am constantly looking and pushing a mud-laden broom upward.
• Prime all fresh mud - This should only take a day. One long day, as it includes almost entirely coating walls and ceiling, but still. One day.
• Paint the ceiling. Definitely one day. 
• Paint the walls. One day. This will also be the day I touch up some of the other areas, like the ding in the front bedroom from putting the TV where it is now.
• Paint the trim. I'm thinking this will be two days, because trim always takes longer than you would think. 

So it looks like the bedroom will not be finished by Christmas as I'd hoped, but it will be done before the new year. Then I'll move downstairs and get to work on the first floor. That will likely take about a month, as there is major patching in the kitchen and dining room, and the carpets are coming up. I think I'll pull those between painting the walls and painting the woodwork, so we won't have to be so careful of paint dripping, but the woodwork won't show where the carpet used to be. I miss these conversations with my Dad, as we figured out together what needs to be done, how to do it, and in what order.

Yes, we. I'm enlisting my family for the painting of the first floor. We're planning a painting party, to get it all done in one day. There's no way I can hold off getting a job long enough to do it all myself, and I really need the time I'm putting in at the house to study the SQL.

For the record, I do have a plan to support myself for at least the next 4 months, and my tax return will hopefully extend that another month or two. This is if Obama does not push through the unemployment extension currently on the table. The bill it's in is being argued, but that portion does not seem to be under contention. I can only wait and see what happens there.

The SQL goal starts this coming Tuesday. Monday we hand in our final team project for the Masters of Information Systems degree I've been working toward over the past two years. The plan is to put in at least an hour a day studying, more when I am not working at the house.

The weight loss goal requires I do something every day as well. I've revamped my marathon training schedule to include 4 days a week running where before it had three. I took all the cross training off the plan, since I wasn't doing it anyway, but that doesn't mean it's off the table. Yesterday I did 100 situps on my Pilates ball. Today I'm doing the run originally scheduled for yesterday. I'm also trying to eat healthier, though the quantity has not changed much. I'll get the eating under control eventually, when I stop feeling so much like I have a huge empty hole to fill. I know from past experience fighting it too much just makes things worse. I'm taking the "one thing at a time" approach, and at least focusing on burning the calories I'm consuming.

So that's where I am today. I started another blog called How Do I Get There From Here? where I plan to focus on this journey. I may or may not copy some posts over here. I'm not sure which blog will survive, or if they both will. My whole life is in a state of flux, so why not my blog life as well?

Validation

It's a sad, sad day

Rest in peace, Aunt Carol.

I did not have the opportunity to spend much time with you, or get to know you as well as I would have liked. The time I did spend with you, however, was laugh filled. I know you were strong, practical, creative, and full of love. Watching you with your husband DOC was a delight. How ironic that you battled and beat the cancer, that complications from the final treatment is what took you from us.

My heart goes out to DOC, to Chuck and Richard. Carol went into the hospital for her final chemo treatment the week after my father was admitted for pneumonia. They were both put on ventilators and sedated approximately the same time. While my father was brought back to consciousness and quickly passed, DOC and his family have had to watch Carol decline for over a month. She never came back, and they were ultimately denied the chance to say goodbye.

My heart goes out to Aunt Beth, who with her medical background was forced to play a duel role in both my father's and aunt's passing. She is the sister to my mother, the sister to my aunt, but also the respiratory therapist who had to tell the hospital technicians maybe it's time to turn the monitoring alarms off, maybe it's time to get the morphine ready, maybe it's time to help these people that she knew and loved to leave this place.

My heart goes out to my mother, who lost her husband of 48 years, and almost exactly a month later has lost her sister. It's a new reality we live in now, a sadder place without them. I realize my pain is but a drop in the ocean of her loss, and there is nothing I can do to make it better. Mom, I love you, and I have an endless supply of hugs for you. I have a sympathetic ear whenever you want it, early morning or in the middle of the night. I have tears for you. I wish I could take on some of your pain, alleviate it in commiseration.

It's a sad, sad day.

Whoda thunk it?

Cherry Cider

Vanilla Gu

Why would I water Gu down to make it drinkable, when I can drink natural juice that gives me the same (or better) nutrition? The pertinent info:

Cherry Cider ingredients? Water, Grape juice concentrate, Pear juice concentrate, Apple juice concentrate, Cherry juice concentrate, Citric acid, Natural flavors, Ascorbic acid.

Gu ingredients? Maltodextrin (Glucose Polymers), Filtered Water, Fructose, GU Amino Acid Blend (Leucine, Valine, Isoleucine, Histidine), Potassium And Sodium Citrate, GU Antioxidant Blend (Natural Vitamin E And Vitamin C), Sea Salt, Natural Vanilla, Citric Acid, Calcium Carbonate, Sodium Benzoate, Potassium Sorbate, GU Herbal Blend [Chamomile, Cola Nut (Has Caffeine), Ginger], Fumaric Acid, Pectin.

The Gu ingredients aren't as bad as I thought, but still. hmmmmmmm….

Gu normally costs between $2 and $3, depending where you get it and what flavor you prefer. I don’t remember how much I paid for the Cherry Cider, but you can bet it wasn’t $48-$72!

Bonus: I can water the Cherry Cider down and still approximate the benefits of Gu.

Bonus 2: I understand Cherry juice has anti-inflammatory properties.

Bonus 3: Even if Costco discontinues this particular brand (every time I find something I like, it gets discontinued), the ingredients are simple enough I can make my own.

I brought Cherry Cider instead of Gu on my long run this past weekend, with no issues. Granted long run is a misnomer when I only did 7 miles, but still. As long as it continues to agree with my stomach, I’ll be filling my fuel flask with Cherry Cider from now on.

Well boo! 8-(

I got all excited this morning when I realized my Daily Mile widget said I'd run over 700 miles this year. "I could actually hit the 1K mark!" I thought. "But wait..." I thought. "I haven't really been running that much. I thought the 1K mark would be harder to hit..."

Apparently it is. I just took all the cycling miles out, because really I'm fine with having those in as times instead of distances. Because really all I'm interested in is how far I've run. For some reason, while I can chart how far I've run and click through for a "last 12 months" total, I can't get a total for just this year that doesn't include riding and walking.

Like how I saved you the trouble of simply looking to your left?

This is where I am now. Turns out I'm only half way to the 1K mark, and this total includes walking. I started to take that out too, but some of those walks were 5 miles and more. It's not likely I'll hit 1K this year, which makes me a little sad. I didn't realize until today, when I thought I was close, that it was a goal of mine.

Does anyone know of a better site to log these things, where I can parse out the totals I want? I've been frustrated with Daily Mile for a while, but haven't found anything better.

Here we go...

Yesterday was a "rest" day on my new marathon plan, making today the first official day of training. I didn't make it out early enough this morning, so after 5 hours of puttering at my Mom's, I headed to the Y.

Walking in, I noticed a woman dancing on a treadmill. Walking with a lot of hip, arm, and head movement. She was obviously enjoying herself, and I thought it was pretty awesome she felt that comfortable in a room full of people. That woman "danced" the treadmill for at least an hour. On a whim I Googled dancing on treadmill and found it's apparently gaining popularity.

I hopped on a stationary bike and decided very quickly I would not be able to ride it for an hour. I don't understand bike seats that tilt forward. I always feel I'm sliding right off. I continued riding though, until a recumbent stationary bike opened up, then quickly switched over. 

I'm not sure what I was thinking, riding a bike for an hour after doing practically nothing for the past month. I chose the random cross country program and wasn't sure I would be able to finish. I had to push hard to do so. My butt hurt, but only a little. I take that as a good sign, and hope this program will work to reduce that type of pain.

After the bike I used my new phone app to track what I did on all the upper body machines. I threw the hip adductor and abductor machines in for good measure. Seeing as how my weak ass hips are a large part of my problem, working them 2x a week seems like a good idea.

Tomorrow is 11.11.11. According to Paradigmsearch.com, there are three possible scenarios for predictions and opinions concerning 11/11/11:

"1. Something good happens— There is absolutely no scientific basis for this belief. There are no known logical premises for this belief. The belief that something good will happen is based solely on spiritualism, faith, and/or innate optimism. This belief is not necessarily a bad thing; we don’t know everything; the probability is not zero.

2. Nothing happens— This is the most likely scenario. Just because an unusual date number sequence occurs doesn’t mean that something extraordinary will happen. Usually it’s a non-event.

3. Something bad happens— There is absolutely no scientific basis for this belief. There are no known logical premises for this belief. The belief that something bad will happen is based solely on pessimism of reality. This belief is not necessarily false; after all, things are generally/usually a mess. The probability is not zero."

I'm going out with my neighbor to celebrate the unusual date. In honor of Veteran's Day, we're going to the 100th Bomb Group for dinner with a group of her friends. Should be fun. Delicious, if nothing else.

Offering a hearty thank you to all the Dices and Sabes and Howie's of the world, who put in their time to help ensure our freedoms.

Rewind and reset

My training plan went out the window a month ago. Since then I've been feeding my sorrows and pain, and not moving. Wallowing. Yes, I cut myself some slack considering the circumstances, but still. I'm not liking myself very much on this path, so it's time to change. Even when I was healthy, I wasn't following the plan I drew up, so it's time for a new plan.

This should actually read Plan C or D...

I still haven't decided which marathon I will run, though it looks like the Vegas Really Big Free Marathon is closed already. I refuse to pay for entry until I know I can pay to get there, and that probably won't happen for several months, even if they open a few more blocks of entries. That leaves the Towpath Marathon, which I've run the half of twice. It has also been suggested I run the Columbus Marathon, which is 2 weeks after the Towpath. I've put both those on the calendar and will decide closer to the date.  

My butt/hip/piriformis/ITB is a problem yet, which is also why my training is currently nonexistent. I am stretching, but to this point not strengthening. With that in mind, I've added weight training 2x a week.

I had 2 days of cross training on my previous schedule, but I never did them. This is not good, as cross training will also help strengthen areas that currently cause me problems. The new schedule has one day of swimming and one day of stationary bike, both followed by the weight training. I'm hoping doubling up will give me incentive, as I'm less inclined to be willing to beat myself up over missing a double workout. There's also the whole "as long as I'm here" mentality helping to keep me honest. 

I still want to do speedwork and hillwork, but I was overly ambitious with them on my previous plan. I've reduced the speedwork to a single day per week, with hill work incorporated into the plan every 4th week.

I also still like the idea of doing my long run on "tired" legs, to emulate the latter half of a marathon. I may have overdone this concept in my earlier plan though. I've altered the plan to include a shorter "tire the legs" run on Saturdays. The long run schedule had to change as well. Before I had multiple weeks of an ever increasing distance, with a 10-miler every 4th week. I've revamped it to alternate the same ever increasing long run with a 10-miler every other week, to give my body more time to regroup.

I've built 2 rest days per week into this plan. I was taking them anyway, so figured I should just own the fact I can't work out 6 days per week at the intensity I want, without hurting myself.

The new Plan:

Halloween Part 2

Wait, WHAT?!?!!

From the website:

Budhia Singh’s life reads like a Bollywood movie scripted by Dickens. Born in India, next to a railway track, abused and beaten by an alcoholic father, he is sold at the age of three by his impoverished mother to a street hawker. Destined to lead a desperate existence as a beggar, Budhia is then rescued by a concerned local judo coach, who runs an orphanage for slum children.

It doesn’t take long for Budhia to reveal his remarkable talent for running. Biranchi seizes the opportunity to do something much more symbolic for India’s poor, as he has done so many times for other slum children in the judo arena. He embarks on a mission to turn Budhia into a running phenomenon. Within six months, Budhia has run twenty half- marathons. Within a year, he has run 48 full marathons. What makes this achievement even more remarkable is that Budhia is still only four years old. He’s become the darling of the masses, an Indian icon, and is mobbed everywhere he goes. Now Biranchi is convinced that he has the potential to become India’s greatest runner and first Olympic marathon champion.

But with the fame comes the controversies. At the end of his record-breaking 65 km run, he collapses. With the world’s eyes on them and an international storm brewing, the Indian government decide to intervene, accusing the coach of cruelty, and threatening to take his newly- adopted son into care.

Is Biranchi effectively enslaving the boy for his own gain? Has Budhia merely traded slum squalor for sporting slavery? Or is Biranchi the man who saved Budhia from a desperate future, a man who loves Budhia as his own son?

Even though they still don’t make trainers his size, an opportunistic tug of war is played-out by adults over Budhia’s control. He is caught in the crossfire of lawyers and politicians. Biranchi openly mocks his detractors while inviting the state government to his judo hall to see the food and shelter he provides for Budhia. He gathers all the slum children to protest outside the Child Welfare Committee, holding banners saying "What about us?" Biranchi relishes being a spokesman for the poor, lambasting the Government for their hypocrisy. The Media are whipped into a frenzy - headline stories and publicity strategies in both camps fuel the controversy.

In the midst of this furore, the biological mother who sold her only son to a stranger for $10, and who has for so long championed Biranchi as a saviour, dramatically changes tact. She accuses the coach of torturing her son. Biranchi is thrown into jail. Budhia is kidnapped by his mother; forced back into the slums as she demands her share of the spoils from her son’s achievements. Budhia is effectively held ransom, unable to see the adoptive father he loves, the debate and intrigue entirely beyond his control.

Without his son, Biranchi is a broken man. For the first time he ponders whether to go on fighting or to abandon the struggle which has brought him to the brink of a nervous break-down. He pours scorn on the accusation of torture and the perception that he is gaining financially out of the boy. He claims that the Minister for Child Welfare bribed Budhia’s mother to make the charge and that the government wants control over Budhia, and a piece of his reflected glory. Biranchi is acquitted of all charges. But before any solutions regarding the fate of Budhia can be found, a shocking event takes place. Biranchi is murdered by a gangster, shot with three bullets at point- blank range in a slum ‘mafia’ killing.

Budhia is woken-up in the middle of the night and is told the news by journalists. He falls silent, speaking only to tell the endless stream of reporters: “no more questions”.  His life has come full circle and, not for the first time, his survival hangs in the balance. For the world, Budhia has been spared his enslaver but for this small boy, he has lost his mentor and father-figure, the only loving advocate he ever had.

Who killed coach Biranchi Das - what precisely was the motive? And what becomes of Budhia Singh, India’s ‘wonder boy’, the world’s youngest marathon runner? As the investigation into the killing unfolds, Budhia is once again rescued from his humble beginnings and awarded a scholarship for sporting excellence from the very state government who claimed his running was tantamount to torture.

Wikipedia has little more to say on the subject. It does however confirm this child, now 9, ran 40 miles in just over 7 hours. Of course, both the movie website and Wikipedia are both sensationalized.

I wonder what the real story is, and whether this child really ran that far. If so, did he do so willingly? I understand his world is different than ours, but how does a 4 year old run for 7 hours, willingly?

Oh yeah...

I actually got up this morning, put my running clothes on, puttered around for a while, then at the last possible minute headed out the door to run 5 miles. I ran!

Oh yeah. In my haste to berate myself for eating too much and not moving enough, I completely forgot WHY I haven't run so much lately.

DUH!

My butt has felt better since Saturday's run, which was cut short due to a sharp pain in my hip instead. Apparently whatever tightness I had in my piriformis moved from the spine area to the hip area. Also apparently, because it didn't hurt directly every minute of every day, I promptly forgot about it.

So I headed out the door today, congratulating myself for actually moving when I hadn't for several days. My run felt awful. I was stiff, my feet hurt, my knee hurt. I felt I'd forgotten how to run, which I attributed to not moving in several days. When that happens I just wait until mile 2, which is how long it takes to shake everything out when I haven't run for a bit. Only I never got to mile 2. Just after mile 1, my hip screamed at me. Not just a little complaint. A sharp pain. I wanted to run through it. I continued on my route, walking, for several hundred feet before thinking better of the idea. I do not want to sideline myself for the entire winter again, like I did last year. I will listen to my body, and maybe even give it what it wants.

I'm thinking what my body wants is core work. The piriformis is directly in line with my lower abs, which are weakened and abnormally tightened by surgery scars. I came home, stretched, and tested for both the 100 pushup challenge and 200 situp challenge. I've started these challenges more than once in the past, but never got very far. I figure if I just keep working at it, eventually I may actually finish.

That's my plan and I'm sticking to it. I'm going to add planks in there, too. I'll also continue to attempt shorter runs, until I can complete them pain free. Then we'll talk about long runs again.

Ready to be done

The sewing room is officially done, other than putting all the books back on the shelves. My Mom has to do that, as she knows what she wants to keep, and where she wants to keep it. I expect there will be book donations in the near future.

Next up, the master bedroom.

And no, I did not run today. Instead I ate. And ate. And ate and ate and ate, just like I've been doing for the past several days. I'm not good at this mourning thing. It's multiplicative. Missing my Dad makes me miss my Grandmother, who passed 10 years ago. At this point, just about everything makes me miss my Dad. Looking at the completed front bedroom today made me cry, because he won't get to see all his plans come to fruition. My mother getting a new iPhone made me sad, because Dad was going to get her one for Christmas (even though she told him she didn't want one). I'm ready for some semblance of normalcy, but I have no idea what constitutes normal for me anymore.

My final class started today, and I'm also feeling the stress of having to find a job on a faster timeframe than originally expected. I thought I had unemployment until March, but now I'm pretty sure I only have until mid-January. I started submitting at least one resume per day. It's been 11 years since I've had to do this, and I'm feeling decidedly rusty. And oh, by the way, I've got that whole "did I really learn anything in college?" thing going on too.

So yeah, you'd think I'd WANT to get out and run, to relieve some of this stress and work off some of these excess calories. Somehow that's not happening.

Halloween Party #1

I'm a little late with this, but Saturday I went to an Aliens Only party. What fun! I only wish I had more pictures..,.

I went for the whole "this is my skin" thing.
Didn't go over as well as I'd hoped, but that's pretty standard for my Halloween costumes.
By the end of the night I was calling myself a Muppet.

He insisted he wasn't Skelator.
I didn't believe him.

Most awesome costume.
If only because we literally just finished watching the movie when he walked in.

OK this was really the most awesome costume.

I have another costume party coming up this weekend, where I'm supposed to be my worst (or best) nightmare. Still working on that...

Still working on healing my butt so I can run, too. 8 miles turned into 6 Saturday. Nothing yesterday. Hoping to get out for 5 later today. We'll see how that goes, as I have a bunch of moving to do at my Mom's first.

Isn't it what everyone does?

In the wake of my father's death, my family is scurrying to put their affairs in order. Big Bro will have the last laugh since everyone is asking him to be executor, but as the oldest he fully expects to leave us all behind. I've created a huge spreadsheet of all my assets, debts, accounts and passwords - basically everything anyone might need to know about my finances. I'm leaving it in Dropbox, which is a free online storage site that looks and acts like a folder on your computer. (If you click the link and sign up, both you and I get additional storage space...) My executors both have Dropbox accounts, so that's where I'm putting all my important paperwork. Rewriting the will will take a bit more gumption, but it's on the list.

Do you have your affairs in order? A power of attorney for your healthcare? This is the one who says yes to the scans and scopes when you can't answer yourself. It is also the one who says pull the plug, so choose carefully! Do you have a living will, or a do not resuscitate order? Do you want them to attempt heroic measures? These things should all be determined and your healthcare power of attorney informed before the decisions become necessary, not after. No one wants to be another Terry Shiavo!

Do you have a designated power of attorney for your legal affairs, should that become necessary? Most of my bills are paid automatically through online banking, but a few are not. If I were sedated for an extended period of time, as my aunt currently is and has been for the past month, someone would have to handle my finances. Things like my car lease may need attention.

Someone needs to handle the little things, like making sure my car is driven occasionally so the bits and pieces don't rot out. Someone would have to take care of my house and my cats. I expect either Superman or Ninja would step up, but I can't be sure either of them will be emotionally stable enough to handle additional responsibilities. I prefer to ask someone with less of an emotional investment, so those closest to me are not unduly burdened.

If you don't yet have your will drawn up, try spending a half hour or so walking through this site. You never know. You could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Will your family and friends have to come up with the $8.5K for your funeral expenses? You know you can prepay those, or arrange for life insurance to cover. Will your family know where you want to be buried, or that you want to be planted with an evergreen tree?

On a happier note, I finished the sewing room today.

Not the best picture, but I wanted to show the doors. The sewing room is the kingpin, which will allow us to now restore about half the house to a livable state. Everything from the sewing room is currently in the back bedroom and hallway. Once that all is back where it belongs, we will be able to move furniture up from the living room and basement. Big Bro will run phone line into the front bedroom so we can bring the computers upstairs out of the basement, giving my Mom a computer room with windows and a distinct lack of dampness.

Hopefully that will all happen tomorrow evening, when we gather to help write thank you notes from the funeral. My Dad's ashes have a place of honor in the center of the dining room table. I talk to him every time I'm there. I'm not religious, and it's a stretch to fit with the beliefs I've held up until now, but I like the idea that he's in a different place. Still him, just somewhere else. Don't forget us, Dad. We certainly won't forget you.

Next week I start working on the master bedroom. I expect that to take a few weeks, considering the extent of work and size of the room (rooms, as there is a small dressing room and 2 closets attached). Next week I also start my final class. I did the math and I have to have a job by the end of February. Wish me luck!

I know you're tired of hearing about it

I thought I was done crying, but these had me going today.

picking up the pieces

 
It's been just over a week since my Dad passed, shattering my world in the process. While the pieces are still sharp and prickly, I'm starting to pick them up and put them back together. All of my siblings have returned to their respective homes, spread across the country. Monkey Boy is on his way back to Germany. I still ache whenever I think of my Dad, and I'm not yet done crying over his last days, but I am trying to find some semblance of normalcy.

I'm back to working on my parents' house. My mother's house. I'm almost done with her sewing room. When that is done and everything put back in place, half the house will be restored from construction zone to living space. My mother and I are talking about how to proceed and what yet needs to be restored. My brother and I are talking about what maintenance needs to be done. Energizer Bunny has made room in her hectic schedule to help. My mother has lived in a construction zone for the last 8 years or so. I am anxious to give her a light at the end of the tunnel.

I dropped the class I was in. It is the last class I need for my degree. I know Dad would not want to be the cause of any interference in my education, but I was overwhelmed. I couldn't focus with the issues at hand, and could not fathom the idea of catching up on the week of reading and paper writing I missed. I am scheduled to pick it back up on November 1, and will now graduate in mid-December.

I tried picking my training back up yesterday. I ran my fastest 4 miles yet, last Wednesday. I also ran 3 fast miles last Friday. I planned to run at least 4 that day, but stopped when my right buttock started to hurt. Pirifomis Syndrome reared its ugly head. Again.

With that pain and everything else going on, I didn't run again until yesterday. Superman and I headed out for a 10-miler. It wasn't pretty. I hadn't stretched or iced my piriformis. I'd worn heels for several hours both Sunday and Monday. While the pain had receded, I knew heading out the door it had not gone away.

Long story short, the 10 mile run turned into 8 increasingly uncomfortable miles before the pain spread sharply to my hip. I walked for a while, then tried to run another mile before giving it up for good. Today, I started doing the stretches I should have been doing all week.

Do these look familiar? They are the same stretches suggested for Iliotibial Band Syndrome, which sidelined me for several months last winter. Not gonna let that happen again. Nosireebob!

Tomorrow I'm heading to my Mom's to take care of a few small things. Then I hope to stretch and work my piriformis with a swim. I might hop on the treadmill after, but it will be a slow run contingent solely on how my butt feels. No speed, since that appears to be what makes this flare up. I am reminded yet again that I have to take things slow and easy.

Working on healing... in several different ways....

Dad

My birth certificate says Janet, and I use that as my legal name. If you've known me for more than a minute though, you know I prefer to be called Jan. My father was the only one who could get away with calling me Janet, because he refused to call me anything else. In his hospital room I told my brother I expected to break down in tears the first time anyone called me Janet, once Dad was gone. Shortly after, I overheard my mother in conversation with a sister, calling me Janet. She always calls me Jan to my face, but apparently I'm Janet in conversation. I'm ok with that, because hearing her call me Janet made it ok. Now I can tell people only my Mother is allowed to call me Janet.

Deciding what to say about my Dad was difficult. What exactly is it that defines a man, anyway? Is it his hobbies, his likes and dislikes? I could talk to you for hours about my father’s passion for trains, music, sports, photography, his love of books and of information in general. You can tell by the number of degrees we’ve all accumulated that his children inherited that quest for knowledge.

Do you define a man by the people he surrounds himself with? John Ehrlinger was among other things a husband, a boss, and a friend. He was also a father. Our father. That’s how I knew him, and it’s through that prism I speak about him today.

My father liked to tell stories. The actual truth of the stories didn’t matter so much, as long he had an audience laughing along with him. Dad once told me brown eggs, those were rooster eggs. I believed him well into high school before I thought to say wait a minute… He could make the most mundane event funny. It was all in the delivery. He liked to say he came by it honestly, that his own father had the same tendency of stretching the truth to fit the tale.

He was heavily influenced by his father, or rather by his father’s absence. My Dad’s father left when he was 10. That 10 year old’s pain translated into mine and my siblings’ good fortune. Dad refused to even contemplate divorce while we were growing up, which by the way my mother used to her advantage. When she was really mad at him, she’d say “I want a divorce!” End of argument. 

Because of the hole his father left, my Dad worked hard to be a good father himself. Being a good father meant family trips. Dad would come home early on a Friday to announce we were going camping. I’m pretty sure every trip was a surprise, at least to me. We would scurry off to fill pillow cases with a few changes of clothes, pack the trailer with camping gear, and wait anxiously by the car for what seemed like hours before Mom and Dad finally came out and locked up the house. Dad would make us run up and down and up and down the driveway 6 times to get all our excited energy out, before loading the dog into the tailgate and backing the Pontiac station wagon plus trailer out of the drive.

We drove through mountains. We passed fields full of dragon droppings. We played the license plate game, finding letters of the alphabet, in order, on the license plates of other cars on the road. Our car had the coveted and hard to find Q, so at some point we would have a Chinese fire drill. Dad would pull in to a rest area, everyone would hop out of the car and run around the back yelling Q! Q! Q!, hop in the other side and we were off again. We had campfires and cobbler and ran wild through whatever campground we’d lit upon, before piling it all back into the trailer and station wagon, loading the dog up, and heading home. 

Being a good father meant putting up with a menagerie of pets. We had cats and hamsters and fish and snakes. In the middle of it all, there was always a family dog. His dog. Some of Dad’s favorite stories revolved around the family dog. There was Duke, who was so much a one man dog he dragged me halfway across a campground when my Dad called. It was a long time before I heard the end of that story! Bruce thought he was a 50lb lap dog. Medic knew not to eat food off the table, but there was that one day Dad left his piece of cheese hanging off the edge. He came back to find only half a piece of cheese for his sandwich. Dad would call Mom frequently with stories of HER dog Bronte. He finished phone calls with “we love you.” The we wasn’t he and Mom. It was he and Bronte.

Being a good father meant giving each of his six children individual attention. I remember quiet moments sitting with him on the front porch, sucking one of the Hershey’s chocolate squares he doled out so sparingly, watching the summer storms roll in. 

Being a good father meant teaching us what he knew. Dad was Mr. Fix-it, and from him I learned not to fear any project. He didn’t like heights, but climbed 2 story ladders to paint the house. We all helped with the painting, after he showed us how. First you dip the brush in the can of paint... not too deep now! Scrape it against the side of the can to get the excess off. Then dab, dab, dab into the corners...

Dad remodeled the interior of the house, with our help. In addition to painting, he taught us to lay tile and hang wallpaper. We learned how to use a table saw, and other power tools. Over the past year he taught me to hang and patch drywall, fix ceilings, sand and stain hardwood. He gave me the courage to gut and completely retile my own bathroom. 

I got to know Dad better than I ever had, over this past year. I showed up to work on the house three days a week, usually starting with lunch and a chat. Some days he told me stories about fathering six children, or about his career in computers. Some days we talked about the house and the projects he had planned. Working on the house was like the games of chess he used to play with Mr. Shibly on the front porch… he was always trying to think a few steps ahead.

Dad did not have much of a father figure to draw from, yet he managed to produce 6 children who are strong, independent, successful, and most importantly content. We all rushed to his bedside to show him the love we have for him.

He did not have a model to mirror a lasting relationship on, yet he managed to stay married for almost 50 years. Somehow he figured out not only how to make it work, but how to make it so he and my mother were downright adorable in their love for each other. 

My father knew how to love. He had his faults, as we all do. I don’t know most of the demons that drove him. What I do know is he did the best he could with what he had. I think he did pretty damn good. As his mother would say, good enough.

In the spirit of my Dad’s tall tales, I’d like to share a quote with you. It stretches the truth a bit, but then again so did he.

"Life's journey is not about arriving at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, scotch sour in the other, body used up, totally worn out, saying whoo what a ride!"

I love you Dad.

Jan[et]

He's Gone

John Micheal Ehrlinger
Sept. 8, 1941 - Oct. 13, 2011

He probably never heard this song, but I find it very appropriate for him.
I love you Dad.
You are missed.

He's Gone - Grateful Dead

"Rat in a drain ditch, caught on a limb, you know better but I know him.

Like I told you, what I said, Steal your face right off your head.

Now he's gone, now he's gone, Lord he's gone, he's gone.

Like a steam locomotive, rollin' down the track

He's gone, gone, nothin's gonna bring him back...He's gone.

Nine mile skid on a ten mile ride, hot as a pistol but cool inside.

Cat on a tin roof, dogs in a pile,

Nothin' left to do but smile, smile, smile!!!!

Now he's gone, now he's gone Lord he's gone, he's gone.

Like a steam locomotive, rollin' down the track

He's gone, gone, nothin's gonna bring him back...He's gone.

Goin' where the wind don't blow so strange,

Maybe off on some high cold mountain chain.

Lost one round but the price wasn't anything,

A knife in the back and more of the same.

Same old, rat in a drain ditch, caught on a limb,

You know better but I know him.

Like I told you, what I said,

Steal your face right off your head.

Now he's gone, now he's gone Lord he's gone, he's gone.

Like a steam locomotive, rollin' down the track

He's gone, gone, nothin's gonna bring him back...He's gone.

Ooh, nothin's gonna bring him back."

A Lucky Fluke

Yesterday morning Superman, Energizer Bunny and I ran the Towpath Half Marathon. My training schedule was ambitious, but I did not even come close to completing most of the workouts. Where I planned for 4 run days and 2 cross-train days, I mostly just got a couple runs in a week.

At least I was able to complete a few long runs. At the start line yesterday I was certain I had not completed anything longer than 9 miles in the past few weeks. I did know the 8 and 9 milers the week before last I went out too fast and crashed in flames.

As an example for how unprepared I was for this race, when Energizer Bunny texted me to ask if I could pick up race packets, I responded with "Oh SH*T!" I completely forgot race packets needed to be picked up. I'd looked up the schedule a few weeks ago, but promptly forgot and never even thought of it again.

I also hardly ran last week - not even in taper mode, where I would run a few 3 milers. Instead, I spent long hours painting, which uses different muscles and exhausts me in different ways. My back was tight in several places, which definitely affected my form.

I hoped to run or stretch Saturday, but in addition to picking up packets and visiting my Dad, I had another obligation. I helped shoot a wedding. Superman is a quasi-professional photographer. He has the equipment. He has the skill. He calls it a hobby and tries to shoot at least one wedding a year. He does a fantastic job, and I get to play photographer's assistant.

The only picture I have from the wedding.
Superman was taking all the pictures,
including black and white Polaroids of all the guests.
I was having all the fun!

This is a lot of fun, and I've been told by one bride's mother I should be a wedding planner. I just try to help out as much as possible. This wedding I helped with decorations after the rehearsal dinner, and pinned on boutonnieres prior to the pre-ceremony photo session. Then I danced, both in and out of heels. The only time I wear heels is at these weddings. I believe it influenced my performance the next morning. Tons of rich food 2 days in a row, coupled with not getting home until almost midnight Saturday probably had something to do with my performance as well.

I didn't talk much about the race here because, well, I wasn't thinking too much about it. I had told Energizer Bunny I hoped to finish somewhere close to 2.5 hours. My half marathon PR was set at 2:46, at this race last year, so I was hoping to PR even with my poor training.

Midnight Saturday I set up the coffee pot, filled my camelback and fuel bottle, and set out everything but clothes. I had an idea what I wanted to wear, but opted to pull it out in the morning. In the morning, my alarm did not go off as expected. Somehow the 5:30 got switched to 5:50. Luckily Superman set his as well. We ultimately got up at 5:40. I chose my outfit based on the temperatures I'd seen for 6am, instead of what was expected at 8:00 when the race started. I should have set my clothes out the night before, but in the end I was not horribly overheated. I don't know that shorts instead of capri's would have made any real difference.

I had a banana and packed another for the race start. I mixed up my usual gargantuan cup of coffee + creamer (coffee candy), but poured a large portion of that out before we got in the car. I usually have an almond butter & jelly sandwich as well, but I was still full from the night before.

We arrived at Energizer Bunny's house right about 6:15, and shortly thereafter piled into EB's car and headed out. EB is one of Energizer Bunny's best cheerleaders. She gets up at the butt-crack of dawn and drives to all of Energizer Bunny's races. Then she hangs out at the start, takes our jackets, and meets us at the finish with cheers and a camera.

I'm guessing EB does not like getting her picture taken.

I took ibuprofen before hopping in EB's car, because my feet were sore from dancing the night before. I also had a fresh blister on the side of my ankle. I love my red heels, but my feet have apparently changed shape since the last time I wore them. 

I won't show the first picture I got of Energizer Bunny
because I like her too much.
Here she's trying hard to not look like she's posing...

Superman doesn't look like he's running, does he?
That's just how he rolls.
He might dress differently if he were running for himself,
but he basically just paces me in my races

The pictures above are shortly before the start. At the gun we headed off, me trying to run a slow and controlled pace. I was terrified I would crash and burn again, as I had on "all my long runs lately."

Yeah. Slow and controlled. My first mile was 11:09.

The race runs down from the local ski resort, onto the main road, and about 3 miles later turns onto the towpath along the canal. It's beautiful. There was fog over the marshy areas, and at one point I looked up to see the sun through the fog, reflecting over a sea of runners. There were rolling hills, which I focused on managing without overexerting, motoring uphill and letting gravity take me on the downhills.

My hip started hurting before we made the turn onto the towpath. By mile 4 I wondered how I would finish, as my lower back was already tired and sore, and both IT bands were letting me know they weren't happy.

By mile 5 my stomach was acting wonky. I was both hungry and uncomfortably bloated at the same time.

Energizer Bunny passed us just as we hit mile 7. She'd already been through the turnaround at mile 8, so was almost exactly 2 miles ahead of us. Last year she'd passed us closer to mile 6, so I took heart that I was doing ok time-wise. Even though I was already tired and really uncomfortable, I still wanted to come in close to 2:30 - mainly so EB and Energizer Bunny didn't have to wait too long for me to finish.

Right before mile 8 they were handing out bananas for the marathoners (who hadn't caught up to us yet). I took one hoping it would help settle my stomach. One bite told me that wouldn't be the case. Even worse, a small bit of that bite went down the wrong tube. Now I'm uncomfortable and tired and choking! I was not able to cough it up, but after a half mile or so I guess it squeezed itself out of the way.

We passed the marathon leader around mile 9. He was smiling, and had a HUGE lead on the rest of the pack. Superman thought he was running about an 8-9 minute mile pace. It looked a lot faster to me, but couldn't have been much faster than 6.5s. The marathon leader passed me last year, so I kept waiting to hear the bicyclist behind me. They did not catch up to me this year.

I think I took my first walk break somewhere around mile 10. I was exhausted, feeling just as I did on those crash and burn runs, and wondering how I was going to finish this race. Somehow, I got myself started again. I was ok until I hit a small uphill, but couldn't imagine running up it and walked again. I knew I'd slowed down considerably, but still hoped for a PR.

Energizer Bunny was waiting for me close to mile 12. She and Superman kept me smiling and chatting for the last mile. She said something about a final sprint, to which I laughed. My legs barely had run in them. They certainly had no sprint, and I told her as much. Somehow though, when we hit the 13 mile marker, I found myself digging deep and pushing forward a bit more. I sped up. I don't know how. It wasn't a sprint, and it could barely be called a surge, but I lengthened my stride and pushed for the finish.

Official chip time: 2:39:54

Almost a 7 minute PR.

My final splits

I'm obviously comfortable running in the 11's, at least for the short term. This is a vast improvement over the beginning of the year, when I was running in the high 12s and 13s.

Energizer Bunny plans to run another half marathon next month. If I can swing the entry fee, I hope to run it as well. I still think I have something closer to a 2:30 in me. I'm curious to see what I can really do, if I stick to my training plan and actually focus on the race in the weeks prior. Of course, my training plan is now geared toward added mileage with a focus on a marathon next year. I don't currently have any other races scheduled until that marathon (which I have not yet chosen - I'm leaning toward Columbus at the moment). If I do run the half marathon next month, I'll have to run a warmup mile to get my mileage in for the day...