Hello friends!
My blog has relocated to a more permanent and all-inclusive location at katemuehe.com/blog.
Update your feeds and bookmarks!
I will start posting from the new location, but I will try to link from here through the end of the year.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Adventures in Unemployment: Day 9-- The Day of the Closets and a Meltdown
"No storage space? Too many sweaters? No idea where to put all your stuff?
That's okay! Throw yourself a big ol' tantrum!"
Yes, I really did. I threw a giant, lie on the floor and cry like a child tantrum. Over sweaters. And towels. And storage shelves.
It was ridiculous, and I even knew that at the time, but it felt so good to just flip shit for 30 minutes. It was like a big sigh.
Now, obviously, a tantrum over storage is a symptom, not the sickness. The sickness is likely a tidge of loneliness all trapped up in my house, a bit of fear about unemployment, and some seriousness nervousness about this upcoming job interview. One of the less-lovely things about unemployment, for me, is the utter lack of structure. There is no schedule, there are only a limited number of to-dos, there is a lot of time spent doing the same darn things. Harumph.
Luckily, I survived my meltdown and managed to not try and force anyone into the Crazy Car with me. I bought some under-the-bed storage. Now there are sweaters in them. Easy fix.
While I was perusing blogs last night, I read this gem from Nicole is Better, in a post about running her first half-marathon:
Time moves just as quickly whether you’re doing what you want to do or not. The days, weeks, months, and maybe even years that are separating you from your goal are going to come and go no matter what, so who cares if you’re going to be 25 or 35 or 45 or whatever by the time you graduate from school or switch careers or complete yoga teacher training? You’re going to hit that age anyway, regardless of whether you pursue your dreams, so you might as well just fucking go for it.
Well, that is precisely what I needed to hear. This morning is better. Much better.
Onward!
That's okay! Throw yourself a big ol' tantrum!"
Yes, I really did. I threw a giant, lie on the floor and cry like a child tantrum. Over sweaters. And towels. And storage shelves.
It was ridiculous, and I even knew that at the time, but it felt so good to just flip shit for 30 minutes. It was like a big sigh.
Now, obviously, a tantrum over storage is a symptom, not the sickness. The sickness is likely a tidge of loneliness all trapped up in my house, a bit of fear about unemployment, and some seriousness nervousness about this upcoming job interview. One of the less-lovely things about unemployment, for me, is the utter lack of structure. There is no schedule, there are only a limited number of to-dos, there is a lot of time spent doing the same darn things. Harumph.
Luckily, I survived my meltdown and managed to not try and force anyone into the Crazy Car with me. I bought some under-the-bed storage. Now there are sweaters in them. Easy fix.
While I was perusing blogs last night, I read this gem from Nicole is Better, in a post about running her first half-marathon:
Time moves just as quickly whether you’re doing what you want to do or not. The days, weeks, months, and maybe even years that are separating you from your goal are going to come and go no matter what, so who cares if you’re going to be 25 or 35 or 45 or whatever by the time you graduate from school or switch careers or complete yoga teacher training? You’re going to hit that age anyway, regardless of whether you pursue your dreams, so you might as well just fucking go for it.
Well, that is precisely what I needed to hear. This morning is better. Much better.
Onward!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Adventures in Unemployment: Day 8-- Seeing the Personal Trainer OR Death by a Tiny Latina in Gym Shorts
So, I belong to Lifetime Fitness and even though I really didn't want to like Lifetime because they are fancy schmancy, the truth is I really like my gym. Like, really really.
One of the great things about Lifetime is that you earn these reward bucks (LTBucks) for being a member for so long, referring a new member, etc. And you can redeem these for various products or services at the gym. I had recently earned 100 LTBucks and since I have been nearly sedentary since running the marathon, I decided to whip myself back into shape by using my reward to see a personal trainer.
And so today I met a 5'2", 98 pound Latina and she kicked my ass all over the gym. We lifted, and pushed up, and lunged, and lifted again, and then twisted and stepped and on and on and on... ugh. 50 minutes later I hardly had the strength to turn the car key. Her favorite phrases were "Oh yeah, you're gonna be sore," "It's okay if you hate me, but you're gonna look good doin' it," and "Okay, do that whole circuit again."
My favorite part is that we didn't do very many things that were a lot of additional weights. Some ladies, like myself, are built with shoulders and rib cages that were obviously designed for men. The last thing I want to do is add a bunch of bulky muscle to my linebacker shoulders. And in case you haven't seen a marathoners thighs before, I can attest that those need no additional bulk either.
So, of course, I am signed up to see her again next week. And I am sure it will be 50 more minutes of torture. I am just hoping next week, if I sneeze in the shower, my abs don't seize up in a fit of pain. One can hope.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Adventures in Unemployment: Days 3 & 4-- Also Known as "How I Am (Kinda) Failing at Being Unemployed"
To be fair, I am not failing at being unemployed, in as much as I am still not going to a job in which I exchange hard work, talent, and the occasional joke for monetary compensation and health insurance.
Let's start with the things I have done right in unemployment:
I do make my bed every day. I do the dishes every day. I have contributed to the cleanliness of my apartment every day. These are mostly symptoms of the fact that I am spending a lot of time in my apartment every day. Spend 14 waking hours in your home and it is easy to spare 40 minutes to make the bed, do the dishes, and sweep the bathroom.
I have also managed to go outside every day, between errands and appointments that have beckoned me to leave the house. These are little blessings in disguise and really break up my day.
Dance parties every day? That's a given. That's what I do in my normal life, who are we kidding.
Things I have done less right:
I think it is physically impossible to actually sleep for 8 hours a night unless I have the flu. The only way this is likely to happen is if I drug myself, and I think that taking drugs while I hang at home by myself with my cat with no job is not a very good idea. Plus, I can't afford gratuitous drugs.
I have made some progress on looking for work, but 90 minutes is a pretty long time. The goal for the weekend/next week? Research the department of the U that has offered to interview me. Read everything they ever wrote. Brand myself as the perfect poster child for their work.
I haven't gotten a library card, volunteered, taken a class, or gone to the museum. Perhaps my unemployment list was ambitious? I argue (with) myself, that I still have time. My only hope on the horizon is an interview that happens next Friday. That gives me all week next week. There's time.
Where I really feel like a failure is in the kitchen. I promised to make homemade yogurt, but I don't have a kitchen thermometer or milk. I promised to make bread, but I am daunted/am missing half the dry ingredients necessary.
So, I thought I would start a little simpler. Get 'back on the bike' with some familiar recipes. I was thinking chocolate chip cookies, but I also bought a cake mix and ready-to-spread frosting.
So, when I went to make chocolate chip cookies, I discovered I had no brown sugar and no baking powder. Pantry fail. But, I wasn't too discouraged because I had that cake mix and I bought some super cute sprinkles. Everyone loves cupcakes with sprinkles.
And guess what? Cupcakes require vegetable oil. Guess what I don't have?
Total kitchen fail.
I managed to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. The cheese was pre-sliced and the soup came from a can. I still burnt the bread when I ignored the sandwich in the pan for too long.
Well, here's hoping I don't starve on Day 5.
Let's start with the things I have done right in unemployment:
I do make my bed every day. I do the dishes every day. I have contributed to the cleanliness of my apartment every day. These are mostly symptoms of the fact that I am spending a lot of time in my apartment every day. Spend 14 waking hours in your home and it is easy to spare 40 minutes to make the bed, do the dishes, and sweep the bathroom.
I have also managed to go outside every day, between errands and appointments that have beckoned me to leave the house. These are little blessings in disguise and really break up my day.
Dance parties every day? That's a given. That's what I do in my normal life, who are we kidding.
Things I have done less right:
I think it is physically impossible to actually sleep for 8 hours a night unless I have the flu. The only way this is likely to happen is if I drug myself, and I think that taking drugs while I hang at home by myself with my cat with no job is not a very good idea. Plus, I can't afford gratuitous drugs.
I have made some progress on looking for work, but 90 minutes is a pretty long time. The goal for the weekend/next week? Research the department of the U that has offered to interview me. Read everything they ever wrote. Brand myself as the perfect poster child for their work.
I haven't gotten a library card, volunteered, taken a class, or gone to the museum. Perhaps my unemployment list was ambitious? I argue (with) myself, that I still have time. My only hope on the horizon is an interview that happens next Friday. That gives me all week next week. There's time.
Where I really feel like a failure is in the kitchen. I promised to make homemade yogurt, but I don't have a kitchen thermometer or milk. I promised to make bread, but I am daunted/am missing half the dry ingredients necessary.
So, I thought I would start a little simpler. Get 'back on the bike' with some familiar recipes. I was thinking chocolate chip cookies, but I also bought a cake mix and ready-to-spread frosting.
So, when I went to make chocolate chip cookies, I discovered I had no brown sugar and no baking powder. Pantry fail. But, I wasn't too discouraged because I had that cake mix and I bought some super cute sprinkles. Everyone loves cupcakes with sprinkles.
And guess what? Cupcakes require vegetable oil. Guess what I don't have?
Total kitchen fail.
I managed to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. The cheese was pre-sliced and the soup came from a can. I still burnt the bread when I ignored the sandwich in the pan for too long.
Well, here's hoping I don't starve on Day 5.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Adventures in Unemployment: Day 2- A Day of Freedom!
On Day 2 I had an 8 AM doctor's appointment re: the broken leg in Bloomington. Obviously scheduled when I thought I would need to go to work right after the appointment. Oh well, this was the perfect thrust into the "showered and functioning" rule.
The Broken Leg Update: The current x-ray showed some "apparent feathering of the bone" which looks like the edge of a feather, but instead of being on the outside of the bone like you might expect, it is feathering into the middle of the bone.* Really odd looking. Anyhow, the doctor said we are "so lucky" we caught it early. It could have actually fractured much more severely, I guess. To be fair, I didn't really feel all that lucky when I was sobbing in my boyfriend's car on the way to the ER where they punctured my leg with a needle the size of a shower rod. But that's just me.
The good news? No more crutches! Sweet freedom! Now just 4-6 weeks of PT, maybe an MRI since there could be some soft tissue damage (kids, running a marathon is bad for your health. But you should do it anyway). They are going to do a running evaluation in 4 weeks to see if I am ready to run miles mile on the open road treadmill. In the meantime, I can swim and bike in the controlled environment of the gym. Thank goodness, because going from marathon training to not working out at all is brutal.
Other notable activities from Day 2 include: visiting Grandma for a few hours while she house-sits for my parents, a grocery shopping trip, learning to saute carnival squash, and some red wine.
Another good day.
*Ha! I Googled 'feathering bone' and found it is common in the legs and hooves of horses. Awesome.
Adventures in Unemployment: Day 1- The "Gimme" Day
Day 1 of unemployment was supposed to be a "gimme" day-- the one day I allowed myself to wallow and feel sorry for myself, watch TV, hang out in my sweats.
Turns out, that didn't really happen.
I ended up deep cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, filing for unemployment insurance (Reason #2673 paying taxes rocks), researching some jobs to apply for, and some other odds'n'ends around the house. I was busy.
To be fair, I did watch the entire Today Show, and even attempted to dabble through daytime TV but there is only so much Judge Judy and Maury Povich one person can take. And for me, that limit is zero.
The funniest thing probably, is that Monday was the only day that the "Rules of Unemployment" were lifted. One of my rules is: Awake, functioning and showered by 8AM. Every day. No matter what. Well, Monday I finally hit the shower at around 4:45 and during that time someone from the U of M called to offer me a job interview! Can't believe I missed that call... We did end up getting connected and-- brace yourself-- I have a job interview on November 4. Excellent.
Overall, I loved Day 1 of unemployment more than any broke, jobless, 20-something has a right to. It doesn't negate that I am really excited to go back to work soon and contribute to good projects, but my mental health may be improving after a break.
Or maybe it was because I had an entire pot of coffee in the morning...
Turns out, that didn't really happen.
I ended up deep cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, filing for unemployment insurance (Reason #2673 paying taxes rocks), researching some jobs to apply for, and some other odds'n'ends around the house. I was busy.
To be fair, I did watch the entire Today Show, and even attempted to dabble through daytime TV but there is only so much Judge Judy and Maury Povich one person can take. And for me, that limit is zero.
The funniest thing probably, is that Monday was the only day that the "Rules of Unemployment" were lifted. One of my rules is: Awake, functioning and showered by 8AM. Every day. No matter what. Well, Monday I finally hit the shower at around 4:45 and during that time someone from the U of M called to offer me a job interview! Can't believe I missed that call... We did end up getting connected and-- brace yourself-- I have a job interview on November 4. Excellent.
Overall, I loved Day 1 of unemployment more than any broke, jobless, 20-something has a right to. It doesn't negate that I am really excited to go back to work soon and contribute to good projects, but my mental health may be improving after a break.
Or maybe it was because I had an entire pot of coffee in the morning...
Adventures in Unemployment
Ha! I said I would blog everyday of unemployment... and here it is, Day 3 and not a peep out of me... ooops.
This post is a pre-unemployment list of the things I want to do while I am unemployed. The best advice I got about unemployment was to enjoy the time off, because sometimes we forget to see the blessings in the hardships we face, and to stay busy! Stay busy for your own sanity and stay busy because when I (inevitably, right?) go back to work, I will be remorseful if I wasted the opportunity to do some fun things and get some things accomplished.
So, first I made a list of things I want to do, in general:
1. Make homemade yogurt.
Thanks to our Iowegian friends for giving me the skinny on how to successfully make my own yogurt. I am pretty excited to try this out!
2. Homemade bread.
So many people I know make their own bread, and yet every time I look online for a recipe I get totally daunted. Also, how do you keep a giant lump of dough away from a very curious cat while it rises? I can just imagine all the floury cat prints... My parents have a breadmaker in their basement. Maybe that will be the route to homemade bread I take.
3. Crochet slippers.
I crocheted one. Not sure how I feel about it. So I made a scarf instead. Now I have a blister from crocheting. I am not sure how much leverage this little goal is going to get.
4. Open Courseware.
There are a bunch of schools (Yale, MIT, Johns Hopkins, etc.) that offer open courseware. There is no credit, no classroom, no assignments, no grades. But you do get to see the lectures and sometimes read the course material online, sort of as if you were taking the class. I totally love to learn and this is right up my alley.
5. Design and order Christmas cards.
Done! And they are darling, I think.
6. Paintings.
I have several requests for paintings-- thanks, friends, for liking my stuff!
7. Free museums.
I love a good museum. I even sometimes love a mediocre museum. In the Cities, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts is free every day (yay! art as a public good! love love love), the Walker Art Center is free on Thursday nights, and there are a handful of museums that are free or only like $2 admission. Love.
Unfortunately, lots of places are only open during business hours and then the weekends are filled with sticky-fingered children and women (poorly) driving strollers into my shins or the backs of my knees. It might be very nice and relaxing to take in a museum on a Tuesday afternoon, you know?
8. Actually sleep 7-10 hours per night.
Who can remember the last time they got that much sleep for, say, 3 days in a row? Other than times I have been sick (in which I slept around 19 hours a day), I don't know that I have gotten a good 8 hour night's sleep in a long time. I look forward to meeting with you, deep sleep and REM cycle. I hear you guys are wonderful.
9. Volunteer.
Having just moved to my community, I have been actually wanting to find a volunteer opportunity for a while. Now is the perfect time to put some more effort into finding a place that can use me.
10. Get a library card.
Can you believe I don't have a library card in my county? And I drive by TWO public libraries all the time. Ridiculous.
In addition to some of the bigger things I want to do, I am also trying to take this opportunity to start some good habits. So there is a list of things to do every day.
1. Make the bed.
My dad's cousin always had the best excuse for not making the bed: "It was so comfortable when I got out of bed, why would I want to mess that all up by making it?!"
2. Do all the dishes.
One of my favorite household tasks to neglect. Well, I am sick of running out of forks.
3. Spend no less than 90 minutes doing something that contributes to securing employment.
This isn't vacation, after all.
4. One-woman dance party.
What's better than grooving any way you want, to any music you want? Nothing.
5. Spend no less than 20 minutes contributing to the organization and cleanliness of the house. Sweep, dust, rearrange, whatever.
I love to make a mess and then just leave it. My house is a petri dish of unfinished projects. Even cleaning projects get halted before they are done. Just ask my why my vacuum has been in the dining room for 2 days.
6. Go outside.
I love my apartment, I really do, but if I don't go outside I will go crazy. Even if I just hobble down the street and back in, I am going outside every day.
Okay everyone, wish me luck. Luck that this is not a very long stretch of unemployment and luck that I survive it with all my mental faculties in tact.
This post is a pre-unemployment list of the things I want to do while I am unemployed. The best advice I got about unemployment was to enjoy the time off, because sometimes we forget to see the blessings in the hardships we face, and to stay busy! Stay busy for your own sanity and stay busy because when I (inevitably, right?) go back to work, I will be remorseful if I wasted the opportunity to do some fun things and get some things accomplished.
So, first I made a list of things I want to do, in general:
1. Make homemade yogurt.
Thanks to our Iowegian friends for giving me the skinny on how to successfully make my own yogurt. I am pretty excited to try this out!
2. Homemade bread.
So many people I know make their own bread, and yet every time I look online for a recipe I get totally daunted. Also, how do you keep a giant lump of dough away from a very curious cat while it rises? I can just imagine all the floury cat prints... My parents have a breadmaker in their basement. Maybe that will be the route to homemade bread I take.
3. Crochet slippers.
I crocheted one. Not sure how I feel about it. So I made a scarf instead. Now I have a blister from crocheting. I am not sure how much leverage this little goal is going to get.
4. Open Courseware.
There are a bunch of schools (Yale, MIT, Johns Hopkins, etc.) that offer open courseware. There is no credit, no classroom, no assignments, no grades. But you do get to see the lectures and sometimes read the course material online, sort of as if you were taking the class. I totally love to learn and this is right up my alley.
5. Design and order Christmas cards.
Done! And they are darling, I think.
6. Paintings.
I have several requests for paintings-- thanks, friends, for liking my stuff!
7. Free museums.
I love a good museum. I even sometimes love a mediocre museum. In the Cities, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts is free every day (yay! art as a public good! love love love), the Walker Art Center is free on Thursday nights, and there are a handful of museums that are free or only like $2 admission. Love.
Unfortunately, lots of places are only open during business hours and then the weekends are filled with sticky-fingered children and women (poorly) driving strollers into my shins or the backs of my knees. It might be very nice and relaxing to take in a museum on a Tuesday afternoon, you know?
8. Actually sleep 7-10 hours per night.
Who can remember the last time they got that much sleep for, say, 3 days in a row? Other than times I have been sick (in which I slept around 19 hours a day), I don't know that I have gotten a good 8 hour night's sleep in a long time. I look forward to meeting with you, deep sleep and REM cycle. I hear you guys are wonderful.
9. Volunteer.
Having just moved to my community, I have been actually wanting to find a volunteer opportunity for a while. Now is the perfect time to put some more effort into finding a place that can use me.
10. Get a library card.
Can you believe I don't have a library card in my county? And I drive by TWO public libraries all the time. Ridiculous.
In addition to some of the bigger things I want to do, I am also trying to take this opportunity to start some good habits. So there is a list of things to do every day.
1. Make the bed.
My dad's cousin always had the best excuse for not making the bed: "It was so comfortable when I got out of bed, why would I want to mess that all up by making it?!"
2. Do all the dishes.
One of my favorite household tasks to neglect. Well, I am sick of running out of forks.
3. Spend no less than 90 minutes doing something that contributes to securing employment.
This isn't vacation, after all.
4. One-woman dance party.
What's better than grooving any way you want, to any music you want? Nothing.
5. Spend no less than 20 minutes contributing to the organization and cleanliness of the house. Sweep, dust, rearrange, whatever.
I love to make a mess and then just leave it. My house is a petri dish of unfinished projects. Even cleaning projects get halted before they are done. Just ask my why my vacuum has been in the dining room for 2 days.
6. Go outside.
I love my apartment, I really do, but if I don't go outside I will go crazy. Even if I just hobble down the street and back in, I am going outside every day.
Okay everyone, wish me luck. Luck that this is not a very long stretch of unemployment and luck that I survive it with all my mental faculties in tact.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Heated Seats: A Primer
Pack up your swimsuits. Roll up the beach towels. Lose the sunscreen behind the seat of the car. It's about to be winter. Or, at the very least, we are well-seated in a chilled, blustery fall.*
The one feature of the new car that I can find is the heated seat dial. Heated seats?! Heated seats, friends. The dial seems pretty self-explanatory. It has numbers from 0 to 5, 0 presumably (and correctly) being no heat. And then each number is a little warmer than the one before, until you get to 5, which in my world seems that it would be bliss. The warmer, the better.
It is not so.
The dial is quite misleading. Today I tested it out, and I have assessed what each number really stands for:
0: No heat. Great for the summer.**
1: Still not really any heat. Wouldn't thaw a rump roast.
2: Things are getting good. Lightly toasted buns. Perfect.
3: Oooh, that's hot. Hot hot, actually. Uh, I don't really like this. Too hot.
4: Oh dear god, BURNING! Too hot! Turn it off! Turn it off!!
5: [Right, you think after my experience at level 4 I turned it up to level 5?! Who do you think I am?]
If you love your butt, you will oscillate between a 2 and 3. Never higher.
* I have loved the word blustery forever. From the Winnie the Pooh film Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day. One of the best children's movies ever.
** Ask me about the time I accidentally turned on heated seats in the summer and thought I was dying of meningitis.
The one feature of the new car that I can find is the heated seat dial. Heated seats?! Heated seats, friends. The dial seems pretty self-explanatory. It has numbers from 0 to 5, 0 presumably (and correctly) being no heat. And then each number is a little warmer than the one before, until you get to 5, which in my world seems that it would be bliss. The warmer, the better.
It is not so.
The dial is quite misleading. Today I tested it out, and I have assessed what each number really stands for:
0: No heat. Great for the summer.**
1: Still not really any heat. Wouldn't thaw a rump roast.
2: Things are getting good. Lightly toasted buns. Perfect.
3: Oooh, that's hot. Hot hot, actually. Uh, I don't really like this. Too hot.
4: Oh dear god, BURNING! Too hot! Turn it off! Turn it off!!
5: [Right, you think after my experience at level 4 I turned it up to level 5?! Who do you think I am?]
If you love your butt, you will oscillate between a 2 and 3. Never higher.
* I have loved the word blustery forever. From the Winnie the Pooh film Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day. One of the best children's movies ever.
** Ask me about the time I accidentally turned on heated seats in the summer and thought I was dying of meningitis.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Stuck in the Slow Lane
Last week, I upgraded automobiles. Gone is the 1999 Saturn, affectionately known as the Plastik Vunderkar (let me someday tell you about selling cars on Craigslist. Holy cow). In is a 2004 Jetta, the Green Machine.
Having a car that runsa bit better like an actual car and not like a Barbie corvette Matchbox car made me think I would soon be experiencing the wide open spaces of the crowded city avenues like this:
After all, this car was built for the autobahn!
Having a car that runs
After all, this car was built for the autobahn!
However, this new-to-me car has a lot more bells and whistles. More accurately: things most modern drivers think everyone has, but in fact, everyone did not. For example: a sun roof, power locks with the little hand held remote so I can "meep meep" my car from 20 feet away, power windows, an automatic transmission. In addition to the new things, I am still working on finding all the standard things. It took me 3 minutes to figure out how to turn the lights on. We had a light drizzle here the other day and I had my windshield wipers on "Hyperspeed Go-Go-Gadget NO RAINDROPS EVER" mode because I could not get them to slow down. A check engine light came on for an issue not even remotely related to the engine. Yesterday I accidently hit the panic button in my pocket while walking crutching loudly away from the car, scaring the dickens right out of a handful of delightful senior ladies out for a walk.
Today, the whole drive in to work, the "door ajar" light was illuminated, and I figured this was just like the check engine light. So it says the door is ajar, I thought, but I can see that no doors are, in fact, ajar. What else could it be? Is it because there is condensation on the back window? I'll turn on the defroster. Wait. How do I do that? Oh, here. Good. Nope, some non-door is still not ajar. Hmmm.
After a string of button mashing operations that included opening and closing the windows and sunroof, unlocking and relocking all the doors, turning on the hazards and then turning them off, it dawned on me. Yesterday, when I hit the panic button, I probably also hit the trunk release button!
When I got to the parking lot, that truth was confirmed. Luckily, the trunk requires some strength to actually open even once the latch has been released, so I wasn't that idiot who drove all the way to work with their trunk all gaping.
Still, I have downgraded my expectations of the new-car-driving experience. Not because the car isn't great, but because it is likely smarter than me. This is a more accurate visual representation of my life on the autobahn:
Friday, October 7, 2011
It Tolls for Thee
Sorry that every post is about the marathon... that's probably getting old for you, right? But I just keep processing things and I forgot to tell you about probably my favorite part of the race:
The marathon starts near the Metrodome in Downtown Minneapolis and cuts through the heart of a skyscraper district before turning down Hennepin towards the Chain of Lakes and South Minneapolis. At the very edge of Downtown is a big, beautiful basilica. The Basilica of Saint Mary, to be precise.
As we head through downtown, the air is cold, the pack of runners nearly silent as the anticipation and silliness of the start wears off and we begin to truly consider the monumental task ahead of us. The only sound is the gentle tap tap tap tap tap of running shoes on pavement and the muffled sound of motivational playlists in runners' ears.
Approaching the basilica, between Miles 1 and 2, the air fills with a beautiful noise-- the church bells! The bells are ringing for the runners! The congregation-- what must have been hundreds of people-- are standing on the beautiful stone steps praying and waving out to the crowd of marathoners.
I am not religious in the "capital R" sense, but that moment filled me with a certain faith, and a faith in what I think religion should be about-- supporting our community, supporting all mankind in every earnest endeavor. Being hopeful for one another, friend and stranger alike. It was emotional then; it's emotional now.
It also reminded me of a poem I once heard at an event to raise awareness about bullying and teen suicide last year. The poem, For Whom The Bell Tolls (No Man is an Island) by John Donne, beautifully reminds me how connected we all are.
The marathon starts near the Metrodome in Downtown Minneapolis and cuts through the heart of a skyscraper district before turning down Hennepin towards the Chain of Lakes and South Minneapolis. At the very edge of Downtown is a big, beautiful basilica. The Basilica of Saint Mary, to be precise.
As we head through downtown, the air is cold, the pack of runners nearly silent as the anticipation and silliness of the start wears off and we begin to truly consider the monumental task ahead of us. The only sound is the gentle tap tap tap tap tap of running shoes on pavement and the muffled sound of motivational playlists in runners' ears.
Approaching the basilica, between Miles 1 and 2, the air fills with a beautiful noise-- the church bells! The bells are ringing for the runners! The congregation-- what must have been hundreds of people-- are standing on the beautiful stone steps praying and waving out to the crowd of marathoners.
I am not religious in the "capital R" sense, but that moment filled me with a certain faith, and a faith in what I think religion should be about-- supporting our community, supporting all mankind in every earnest endeavor. Being hopeful for one another, friend and stranger alike. It was emotional then; it's emotional now.
It also reminded me of a poem I once heard at an event to raise awareness about bullying and teen suicide last year. The poem, For Whom The Bell Tolls (No Man is an Island) by John Donne, beautifully reminds me how connected we all are.
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Why Run a Marathon
The number one question people ask is "Why would you want to run a marathon?"
And there isn't an easy answer. Or maybe, more appropriately, it's that there isn't just one answer.
Because it's there. And I can. Rules are meant to be broken; challenges are meant to be met and overcome. I ran it because it's there and it's scary and it's hard to do. And because something greater than my feet and my legs and my cardiovascular system-- something else in me-- said "I can."
Because 100 voices in my lifetime said "you can't" and 101 voices said "you can." We often forget how influential our words can be, or how an individual might carry each phrase or lesson with them for a long time. Sometimes, we spend the most time listened to our own voice telling us we can't do something because we won't be the best at it.
But I was absolutely blessed to grow up with a family that encouraged all of my craziest ideas. A big sister that was not embarrassed to tell me she was proud of me. A mom who, by example, taught her daughters to be strong women, to be leaders, to stand up for themselves and for what is right, to have strong voices. A dad who never waivered in his pride in his girls, who encouraged sportsmanship and leadership, who continues to be one of the best examples of citizenship in my life, and who reminds me often to never take life or myself too seriously. And I can't forget an extended family that, while small in size, is filled to the brim with support and well-wishes for every endeavor and a hearty helping of 'we-knew-you-could's after each success.
Because I can control the outcome. One of the greatest lessons I have learned in my young adult life, post-graduate school, is that there are a lot of things that happen to me and around me (or without me) that I cannot control. Talk about frustrating. Ever since the days of returning from a friend's house crying, stomping around because 'they wouldn't play the way I wanted!' I have desired to set the rules. And none too democratically, in most cases.
Turns out, at 25 years old, there are fewer and fewer situations where you can take all your toys and go home (a phrase my family still uses today!). Having an often unsteady and uncertain job situation, losing people who I love and carry an important part of my history, and experiencing first-hand how unfair a tornado in a community in crisis feels, I spent many weeks in the last year feeling caught up in a chaos where I did not and could not set the rules.
So I took all my toys... and went to the gym. And I set the training schedule and nutrition rules. And I said "No, I have to run tonight." And I didn't let anything confuse the final goal or knock me (too far) off course. And at the end of even the most awful days, I controlled the distance, the tempo, the playlist. I owned the successes and I owned the failures along the way. And thus, on October 2, 2011, I owned the ultimate success. I owned that finish.
Because I said I would. Call it stubborn. Call it tenacious. Call it foolish. No matter the name, I said I would run a marathon, and dammit, I ran a marathon. And you know what? I bet I can do anything.
That's why I ran a marathon.
And there isn't an easy answer. Or maybe, more appropriately, it's that there isn't just one answer.
Because it's there. And I can. Rules are meant to be broken; challenges are meant to be met and overcome. I ran it because it's there and it's scary and it's hard to do. And because something greater than my feet and my legs and my cardiovascular system-- something else in me-- said "I can."
Because 100 voices in my lifetime said "you can't" and 101 voices said "you can." We often forget how influential our words can be, or how an individual might carry each phrase or lesson with them for a long time. Sometimes, we spend the most time listened to our own voice telling us we can't do something because we won't be the best at it.
But I was absolutely blessed to grow up with a family that encouraged all of my craziest ideas. A big sister that was not embarrassed to tell me she was proud of me. A mom who, by example, taught her daughters to be strong women, to be leaders, to stand up for themselves and for what is right, to have strong voices. A dad who never waivered in his pride in his girls, who encouraged sportsmanship and leadership, who continues to be one of the best examples of citizenship in my life, and who reminds me often to never take life or myself too seriously. And I can't forget an extended family that, while small in size, is filled to the brim with support and well-wishes for every endeavor and a hearty helping of 'we-knew-you-could's after each success.
Because I can control the outcome. One of the greatest lessons I have learned in my young adult life, post-graduate school, is that there are a lot of things that happen to me and around me (or without me) that I cannot control. Talk about frustrating. Ever since the days of returning from a friend's house crying, stomping around because 'they wouldn't play the way I wanted!' I have desired to set the rules. And none too democratically, in most cases.
Turns out, at 25 years old, there are fewer and fewer situations where you can take all your toys and go home (a phrase my family still uses today!). Having an often unsteady and uncertain job situation, losing people who I love and carry an important part of my history, and experiencing first-hand how unfair a tornado in a community in crisis feels, I spent many weeks in the last year feeling caught up in a chaos where I did not and could not set the rules.
So I took all my toys... and went to the gym. And I set the training schedule and nutrition rules. And I said "No, I have to run tonight." And I didn't let anything confuse the final goal or knock me (too far) off course. And at the end of even the most awful days, I controlled the distance, the tempo, the playlist. I owned the successes and I owned the failures along the way. And thus, on October 2, 2011, I owned the ultimate success. I owned that finish.
Because I said I would. Call it stubborn. Call it tenacious. Call it foolish. No matter the name, I said I would run a marathon, and dammit, I ran a marathon. And you know what? I bet I can do anything.
That's why I ran a marathon.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Q: What's Less Fun Than Running a Marathon?
A: Going to the Emergency Room because of it.
No worries, though friends. Turns out to just be a fracture. There was some concern it could be Compartment Syndrome, a 'limb and life threatening injury,' but it's just your run-of-the-mill stress fracture.
If any medical professional tells you they are going to do a 'striker' test for compartment syndrome, put your big girl/boy panties on. That's a doozy.
Monday, October 3, 2011
The First 24 Hours
There is a more insightful blog post about completing my first marathon a-brewin'. But considering my current physical and mental state, you get this instead.
If you follow me on Facebook and Twitter, you have seen a gazillion posts on the same topic. But if you don't (you should)...
I finished my first marathon yesterday!
You should do a victory dance for me, because I can hardly move.
Why can I hardly move, you ask?
1. Two blisters the size of house cats and 3 more the size of grapefruits.
2. All the skin on my feet is inexplicably peeling off.
3. General muscle soreness from my belly-button down as well as entirely up my spine.
4. A suspected stress fracture. Or heinous heinous shin splints. To be physician confirmed tomorrow.
Here are my observations from the first 24 hours, post-marathon:
1. I am STARVING but preparing food feels like so much work that I lose interest. And, once I do finally make something, I can eat about 4 ounces of food at a time and then I am stuffed. For example, I only ate 3 spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream before putting it back. 3 spoonfuls?! Unheard of.
2. Waking up every 2 hours throughout the night to stretch and walk is annoying, but probably not as annoying as being frozen in my bed would have been.
3. I don't think I will ever feel hydrated again. Ever.
4. Blister-specific Band-Aids are all entirely too small. Dear Johnson + Johnson, the blister has at least doubled the size of my toe. Please make an appropriate bandage. xoxo, Katie
5. The size of a Target store grows exponentially in relation to the amount of pain you are in.
6. IcyHot (and I have complained about this before): not even remotely icy enough to soothe the pain, too damn hot to relax anything. Too. Damn. Hot.
7. Also, on the topic of IcyHot, my whole house smells like it. Every single surface. It's like a mix of old people and toothpaste. Yuck.
8. I thought this day would be ultra-nice and relaxing, and it has been to a point. But it has also been like being at home sick, except I feel well enough to do things, but I can't really physically do them due to the aforementioned menagerie of maladies.
9. The internet is a limited place. And there is only so much you can do before you get bored. However, the one thing that never gets boring? Watching this: http://www.mtecresults.com/runner/videoResults?rid=27125&race=507
Click that link. Click it. Click it click it click it click it. Click. IT. So cool.
10. One last complaint: Ice packs take a LIFETIME to get frozen in the freezer... but about 20 minutes to get warm on my leg. One human could not possibly own an adequate number.
On a more serious note, thanks to my family and friends who supported me at the race, through a Facebook post, an email, a Tweet, or a in text. You. Are. Awesome! Lotsa lotsa love to you!
If you follow me on Facebook and Twitter, you have seen a gazillion posts on the same topic. But if you don't (you should)...
I finished my first marathon yesterday!
You should do a victory dance for me, because I can hardly move.
Why can I hardly move, you ask?
1. Two blisters the size of house cats and 3 more the size of grapefruits.
2. All the skin on my feet is inexplicably peeling off.
3. General muscle soreness from my belly-button down as well as entirely up my spine.
4. A suspected stress fracture. Or heinous heinous shin splints. To be physician confirmed tomorrow.
Here are my observations from the first 24 hours, post-marathon:
1. I am STARVING but preparing food feels like so much work that I lose interest. And, once I do finally make something, I can eat about 4 ounces of food at a time and then I am stuffed. For example, I only ate 3 spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream before putting it back. 3 spoonfuls?! Unheard of.
2. Waking up every 2 hours throughout the night to stretch and walk is annoying, but probably not as annoying as being frozen in my bed would have been.
3. I don't think I will ever feel hydrated again. Ever.
4. Blister-specific Band-Aids are all entirely too small. Dear Johnson + Johnson, the blister has at least doubled the size of my toe. Please make an appropriate bandage. xoxo, Katie
5. The size of a Target store grows exponentially in relation to the amount of pain you are in.
6. IcyHot (and I have complained about this before): not even remotely icy enough to soothe the pain, too damn hot to relax anything. Too. Damn. Hot.
7. Also, on the topic of IcyHot, my whole house smells like it. Every single surface. It's like a mix of old people and toothpaste. Yuck.
8. I thought this day would be ultra-nice and relaxing, and it has been to a point. But it has also been like being at home sick, except I feel well enough to do things, but I can't really physically do them due to the aforementioned menagerie of maladies.
9. The internet is a limited place. And there is only so much you can do before you get bored. However, the one thing that never gets boring? Watching this: http://www.mtecresults.com/runner/videoResults?rid=27125&race=507
Click that link. Click it. Click it click it click it click it. Click. IT. So cool.
10. One last complaint: Ice packs take a LIFETIME to get frozen in the freezer... but about 20 minutes to get warm on my leg. One human could not possibly own an adequate number.
On a more serious note, thanks to my family and friends who supported me at the race, through a Facebook post, an email, a Tweet, or a in text. You. Are. Awesome! Lotsa lotsa love to you!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
An Open Letter to An Open-Minded Manager
{As some of you may or may not know, I have been working as a full-time temporary employee for the last 16 months (read: no vacation, no sick time, no employer-sponsored health or dental coverage, no contribution to a retirement plan, no security). While I love what I do, passion is not enough to pay student loans and eat.
In the next few weeks, as the grant monies that fund my position slowly get spent away, I will be let go. I have been searching and applying for new work with an increased fervor in the last month, but with little results. It's a tough market out there, folks.
I have not been offered a position or hired yet, but someday someone will call. This is a letter to that someone who takes a chance and says "We would be delighted if you would join our team."}
Dear Hiring Manager,
Congratulations, today you have made an excellent decision for the progress of your organization! Today, you took a chance and you hired me. And I promise to make that a decision you can be happy with for a very long time.
You recognized that my varied interests and experiences translate into a fresh and adaptable young employee. You saw that I can (and do!) become passionate about everything I do, and you have offered me an environment that encourages my creativity and gently guides my growth. As much as I tried to remain calm and graceful in the interview, my chattiness certainly overshadowed whatever poise I had intended to present to you. Thank you for recognizing that as a strength of a strong and open communicator who loves nothing more than to share information in a novel way, to give large and engaging presentations, to meet with colleagues or stakeholders and have honest and meaningful discussion.
I cannot express to you my excitement to join your team. The road from graduate school to a professional career has been a bit tumultuous over the last couple of years. Turns out, the years that are "great to be a student" really stink to be a recent graduate... but I am excited to be released of the burden that uncertainty can cause so that I can really focus on my work. I am excited to create quality work for this organization and develop tools and products that can be shared so that others may learn from what we do. I am excited to learn from others; in the workplace, in the industry, in the community. I am excited to be a positive force in my workplace-- someone who thinks and speaks highly of others, someone who expresses gratitude to those around me, and someone who occasionally tells a lively and engaging story or two! I am excited that you and your organization have committed to me and my professional growth. I intend to commit to this organization and this work in the same way.
I am dedicated to this position and this organization.
I am motivated to create positive change in my community and that will be reflected in any work I do.
I am ready to face each challenge with a balance of professionalism, creativity, and enthusiasm that cannot be learned in any program-- it is unique to me.
I may never know what it was about my application or my interview that made you take a second look or made you say, "Let's give her a call." All I know is that on the first day that I enter the office, I am going to bring with me a passion and work ethic that makes you feel certain you have made the right choice. And a plant; I am going to bring with me a plant.
Thank you, again, for the opportunity.
Sincerely,
Katie
P.S. See you Monday!
In the next few weeks, as the grant monies that fund my position slowly get spent away, I will be let go. I have been searching and applying for new work with an increased fervor in the last month, but with little results. It's a tough market out there, folks.
I have not been offered a position or hired yet, but someday someone will call. This is a letter to that someone who takes a chance and says "We would be delighted if you would join our team."}
Dear Hiring Manager,
Congratulations, today you have made an excellent decision for the progress of your organization! Today, you took a chance and you hired me. And I promise to make that a decision you can be happy with for a very long time.
You recognized that my varied interests and experiences translate into a fresh and adaptable young employee. You saw that I can (and do!) become passionate about everything I do, and you have offered me an environment that encourages my creativity and gently guides my growth. As much as I tried to remain calm and graceful in the interview, my chattiness certainly overshadowed whatever poise I had intended to present to you. Thank you for recognizing that as a strength of a strong and open communicator who loves nothing more than to share information in a novel way, to give large and engaging presentations, to meet with colleagues or stakeholders and have honest and meaningful discussion.
I cannot express to you my excitement to join your team. The road from graduate school to a professional career has been a bit tumultuous over the last couple of years. Turns out, the years that are "great to be a student" really stink to be a recent graduate... but I am excited to be released of the burden that uncertainty can cause so that I can really focus on my work. I am excited to create quality work for this organization and develop tools and products that can be shared so that others may learn from what we do. I am excited to learn from others; in the workplace, in the industry, in the community. I am excited to be a positive force in my workplace-- someone who thinks and speaks highly of others, someone who expresses gratitude to those around me, and someone who occasionally tells a lively and engaging story or two! I am excited that you and your organization have committed to me and my professional growth. I intend to commit to this organization and this work in the same way.
I am dedicated to this position and this organization.
I am motivated to create positive change in my community and that will be reflected in any work I do.
I am ready to face each challenge with a balance of professionalism, creativity, and enthusiasm that cannot be learned in any program-- it is unique to me.
I may never know what it was about my application or my interview that made you take a second look or made you say, "Let's give her a call." All I know is that on the first day that I enter the office, I am going to bring with me a passion and work ethic that makes you feel certain you have made the right choice. And a plant; I am going to bring with me a plant.
Thank you, again, for the opportunity.
Sincerely,
Katie
P.S. See you Monday!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Analytically Speaking
I would love to say I use Google Analytics to maximize my readers' experience of my blog.
I don't.
I basically use it to spy on you. Where do you live? What are you reading? How did you get here?
My favorite is to see what term people searched for to end up at my blog. Below are some of the stranger ones:
I don't.
I basically use it to spy on you. Where do you live? What are you reading? How did you get here?
My favorite is to see what term people searched for to end up at my blog. Below are some of the stranger ones:
- scientific law (Yes, the words written in this blog are scientific law. Or, they should be.)
- what is fartlekking (The seventh circle of Hell.)
- atheist cat (What.)
- drugging your cat (I didn't really drug him. I hope this person finds the, uh, advice they were looking for...)
- fartlekking (The seventh circle of Hell.)
- girl panics on febreeze commercial (Well, a giant-ass fish swims through a living room. You would panic too)
- mugwump cat (Ha! He needs his own blog. [Right now the Boyfriend is groaning and thinking "Oh my god, she's going to start a blog from her cat's perspective." No I'm not, because imagining Boyfriend thinking that was enough satisfaction!])
- what's a fartlek (The seventh circle of Hell.)
- "Every morning in Africa a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must move faster than the lion or it will not survive. Everyone morning in Africa a lion wakes up and knows it must be faster than the slowest gazelle or it will starve. It does not matter if you are the lion or the gazelle. When the sun comes up, you better be moving." (Love this quote. And now love whomever searched for it. Love love love.)
- turtleneck swimsuit (What?)
- Bob Costas sauna (WHAT?! Gross.)
- don't feed the grad students (no truer advice has ever been spoken)
- "convention of international sale of goods" undersized shrimp (Ha! Reason #238 dating a lawyer brings me joy. Also, isn't the very nature of shrimp that they are 'undersized'?)
- grad school makes you fat (Who are you calling fat, you big cow?!)
- national escargot day (I am assuming this comes from an Obscure Holidays post...)
- activate mugwump (Ha! Read this as "Activate: Mugwump!" and it just has a certain superhero je ne sais quoi about it. Love)
- Bob Costas is a punk (that's more like it)
- Border collie hypersensitve (Googler, you get it.)
- Bubble bath wine (You definitely get it).
- funny sentence with mugwump in it (Hmm, I don't think I have any of those. But I have something better! A bunch of funny sentence written by a Mugwump! Right? Right?!)
- modern battle pants (What?) (I want some.)
- obscure holiday for "women" (Why put women in quotes? Couldn't it just be 'obscure holiday for women'? Googler must have been a "man.")
- sushi touched my soul (What.)
- uzbekistan got skipped (I hate when that happens.)
- ways to explain parking in a snow emergency (I'll explain it now: Everyone parks like an idiot. You can too! Yay!)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I Don't Even Know What 'Hyponatremia' Is, but I Do Not Want It
Part of being a well-prepared marathoner is the physical training. Up the hill. Down the hill. 8 miles. 10 miles. A half marathon. 16 miles. Wind. Rain. Beating sun. You gotta get used to all of that. Plus, learn to love blisters.
The other part of being a well-prepared marathoner is to know as much as possible about race day. What time do I need to be at the start? Where can I park? How many racers are there? When can I expect to see a water stop? How many satellite bathrooms are available and where? And most importantly (I think): what do I do if I get into trouble?
It is no secret that running a marathon is a bit stressful on one's body and the need for some medical attention on race day is common. In order to prepare myself, today I read Twin Cities in Motion's medical procedures for the marathon.
I found most of the information to be super helpful. For one, I love a good color-coded system that tells me how the weather conditions may affect runners. Also, it is good to know that there are over 300 medical staff and they are wearing orange. This is important.
But some of the information, I found a little more amusing. Or maybe ironic? I am not sure. Below, in the bolded text you can read the policy and in the red italicized text you can read my thoughts on that policy.
"Runners who are ill should not start."
You cannot convince me that there is a single person who signed up for a marathon that is even close to being in their right mind. All these runners are 'ill.'
This next part is in reference to their Impaired Runner Policy.
To be allowed to continue the race, a runner must:
a) be able to proceed in a straight path toward the finish line;
This would be easier to do if the race was a straight path towards the finish instead of weaving all over the Cities to add up to an obscene number of miles. I know the distance between Minneapolis and Saint Paul is not 26.2 miles...
b) be able to explain who they are, where they are on the course, and what they are doing;
In the best of health and clarity of mind, I would probably be able to tell you who I am. But in the middle of a marathon there is no way I am going to know why I am on that course or what I am doing. I am going to think I have lost my mind a long time before any medical professional suspects it. I might already be thinking I have lost my mind.
c) look clinically fit to proceed with good skin color and body appearance
d) be able to maintain a reasonable running posture.
Both (c) and (d) assume you started the race with these things... which just might not be totally true for all of us.
Downed runner procedures:
When a runner goes down during or immediately after the race, the medical team will assess for cardiac arrest, exertional heat stroke, hyponatremia, insulin shock, and exercise associated collapse; begin first aid; and transfer.
Please also assess me for the common medical ailment "Worn the eff out."
The medical response plan includes advanced life support ambulances and bike teams with automatic defibrillators.
'Advanced life support?!' Dear god.
All runners are encouraged to provide family and friends with their race number in case of a medical emergency.
When my race number is assigned, you will likely be able to find it here, in some sort of email with paragraphs upon paragraphs of emergency information, as well as posted to social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter. I just want to have all my bases covered. In case something happens. Which it won't.
Honestly, I am not too worried-- I feel healthy, I know my limits and if I get overwhelmed during the race there is no harm in leaving the course. A finisher's medal is not worth losing my health or knee joints. And it's comforting to know all this effort is going in to making sure every racer that day has the healthiest marathon possible.
The other part of being a well-prepared marathoner is to know as much as possible about race day. What time do I need to be at the start? Where can I park? How many racers are there? When can I expect to see a water stop? How many satellite bathrooms are available and where? And most importantly (I think): what do I do if I get into trouble?
It is no secret that running a marathon is a bit stressful on one's body and the need for some medical attention on race day is common. In order to prepare myself, today I read Twin Cities in Motion's medical procedures for the marathon.
I found most of the information to be super helpful. For one, I love a good color-coded system that tells me how the weather conditions may affect runners. Also, it is good to know that there are over 300 medical staff and they are wearing orange. This is important.
But some of the information, I found a little more amusing. Or maybe ironic? I am not sure. Below, in the bolded text you can read the policy and in the red italicized text you can read my thoughts on that policy.
"Runners who are ill should not start."
You cannot convince me that there is a single person who signed up for a marathon that is even close to being in their right mind. All these runners are 'ill.'
This next part is in reference to their Impaired Runner Policy.
To be allowed to continue the race, a runner must:
a) be able to proceed in a straight path toward the finish line;
This would be easier to do if the race was a straight path towards the finish instead of weaving all over the Cities to add up to an obscene number of miles. I know the distance between Minneapolis and Saint Paul is not 26.2 miles...
b) be able to explain who they are, where they are on the course, and what they are doing;
In the best of health and clarity of mind, I would probably be able to tell you who I am. But in the middle of a marathon there is no way I am going to know why I am on that course or what I am doing. I am going to think I have lost my mind a long time before any medical professional suspects it. I might already be thinking I have lost my mind.
c) look clinically fit to proceed with good skin color and body appearance
d) be able to maintain a reasonable running posture.
Both (c) and (d) assume you started the race with these things... which just might not be totally true for all of us.
Downed runner procedures:
When a runner goes down during or immediately after the race, the medical team will assess for cardiac arrest, exertional heat stroke, hyponatremia, insulin shock, and exercise associated collapse; begin first aid; and transfer.
Please also assess me for the common medical ailment "Worn the eff out."
The medical response plan includes advanced life support ambulances and bike teams with automatic defibrillators.
'Advanced life support?!' Dear god.
All runners are encouraged to provide family and friends with their race number in case of a medical emergency.
When my race number is assigned, you will likely be able to find it here, in some sort of email with paragraphs upon paragraphs of emergency information, as well as posted to social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter. I just want to have all my bases covered. In case something happens. Which it won't.
Honestly, I am not too worried-- I feel healthy, I know my limits and if I get overwhelmed during the race there is no harm in leaving the course. A finisher's medal is not worth losing my health or knee joints. And it's comforting to know all this effort is going in to making sure every racer that day has the healthiest marathon possible.
Friday, September 2, 2011
A Reflection on 72 Hours of Wilderness
I have been attempting to compose, organize, and draft my thoughts on my recent trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA) for several days now, but it is much harder than I thought. Perhaps, much like the photos I captured while there, my storytelling can't really do that part of the world the justice it deserves.
I thought about giving you the play by play-- detailing each lake, each portage, each mosquito-infested campsite, and relaying the horrors that are northwoods latrines.
But it still didn't seem big enough.
So what I came up with is quite a bit simpler, a little more abstract.
To be in a wilderness so dense and unspoilt is an incredibly humbling experience. The moment the paddle shatters the reflected forest on the surface of the cool, clean lake I had to involuntarily surrender control to my environment. The weather, downed trees, nosy wildlife; they all have the ability to overpower the skills I bring with me. There is only a small smattering of people, scattered few and far between, and travelers can't count on seeing anyone. You certainly can't count on anyone having a working communication device.
Those things in mind, I think it is a space that redefines 'trouble.' To be in trouble here at home (flat tire, late bus, broken appliance, and so on) is really to be inconvenienced. To be in trouble in the BWCA is to be in trouble.
To be in the BWCA is also empowering. There is that beautiful feeling of chasing (and then catching!) an experience many people don't get to have. It is a place ripe for accomplishing many things, from the simple breakfast cooked over a camp stove to the 232 rod portage. It fosters a great sense of independence and self-reliance. At the same time, it makes one put a lot of trust in the person they travel with-- trust that that person will have your best interests and safety in mind, trust that that person will communicate, trust that that person will not get (too) frustrated.
I think I may have said this about rural North Dakota too, but if there is such thing as 'God's Country,' the BWCA is it. I cannot think of many places that I have been to that inspired me with a sunrise, amazed me and challenged throughout the day, instilled great fear and respect for my surroundings in me as the sunset washed the world in a purple shadow, and then gently rocked me to sleep with the most stars I have ever seen in one night and the gentle lullabye of wilderness in the nighttime.
My words, like photos that just look like water, trees, and sky, do not begin to really describe this magnificent place.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Home Makeover: Modern Mugwump Edition
Did a little makeover to my living room this weekend, courtesy of nice-guy-who-didn't-turn-out-to-be-an-ax-murderer who was selling an IKEA television stand that just happens to be, like, the missing piece from my collection. Seriously, so perfect.
I know I just moved in a few months ago, so you are probably wondering why I felt the need to rearrange. When you figure out that answer, let me know because sometimes I really would love to just leave things as they are, omigod stop MOVING AND CHANGING EVERYTHING. Creative minds cannot be contained (see: selling my art, running a marathon, inventing "dream life scenarios" that mirror every single real life scenario I have, but flashier) and thus the furniture got all shifted around.
Before: messy and cavernous. Way too large for Cat and I.
After: messy still, because I live here (duh.).
But it didn't take him long to get back to his ol' self.
I know I just moved in a few months ago, so you are probably wondering why I felt the need to rearrange. When you figure out that answer, let me know because sometimes I really would love to just leave things as they are, omigod stop MOVING AND CHANGING EVERYTHING. Creative minds cannot be contained (see: selling my art, running a marathon, inventing "dream life scenarios" that mirror every single real life scenario I have, but flashier) and thus the furniture got all shifted around.
Before: messy and cavernous. Way too large for Cat and I.
After: messy still, because I live here (duh.).
Photos are a little hard to get the whole gist, but simply: one huge room is now 2 functional spaces. Move. The. Eff. Over. Martha Stewart. Eat my zen furniture dust (and boy was it dusty under that couch! whew).
Unfortunately, Cat was a bit skeptical of the changes for a while. I am not totally sure why but I can guess a few reasons:
1. He cannot both chew on the blinds and get his claws stuck in the couch at the same time.
2. I spend more time in the seating area, but I put his toy den in the other half. He may think this is foolish oversight on my part, but I can assure you I am happy to have the stupid mouse with the freakish light up eyes somewhere where I don't watch scary movies.
Anyway, he spent most of the day "hiding" from me. He's real stealthy, see?
But it didn't take him long to get back to his ol' self.
And he even warmed right up (literally) to the sunshiney place his perch is in.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Guest Bloggin' Like a... *
Just can't get enough of the Modern Mugwump? Wish you knew what was going on in my life at this. very. second?!
Really? That's creepy. Cut it out.
Well, today you gotta check me out at Finding a Balance-- the blog of friend and Ragnar Relay 2009 teammate, Hyedi.
And since you came all the way to my blog, and I don't want to leave you empty handed, I give you this:
*NOTHING witty rhymes with "bloggin'"
Thursday, August 11, 2011
On the Plains of North Dakota
Beautiful? Sure. For a little bit.
By hour 8 on Interstate 94, headed westward through North Dakota from Minneapolis, this view gets a little old. In fact, by the 8th hour in the car you have run out of stories for your road trip teammates to catch up on your hectic summer life. You have already passed the giant bison in Jamestown:
and the world's largest holstein cow in New Salem (I don't know those people):
Apparently, this cow's name is Salem Sue. Thanks, Google!
The land, while beautiful, is so empty that even your game of "those are my cows" has fizzled. There simply are no cows to claim. As the car travels west, the soft, flat landscape of the Dakota plains begins to give rise to a few rocky bursts as we hit the very earliest signs of the North Dakota Badlands and one road trip teammate cracks an "I like big buttes" joke that gets far more laughter than it deserves. Everything is funny during the 8th hour.
The road is flooded about 50 miles out of Dickinson, ND (our final destination) and everyone slows to a painful 45 miles per hour after sailing across the state at 80 or 85. Passengers are overwhelmed by the feeling that we never want to be in a car again. For the rest of our lives.
Phone calls and texts from Dickinson start coming in with less than an hour to go: "We're all checked in, can't wait to see you guys!" "Are you close?" "Will you pick up at least one case of beer?" "I think the groom's dinner includes free beer and wine." These messages feel like twinkling lights on the horizon-- we will make it and it will be good.
And it was good. In truth, as boring as the drive can be at times, you cannot at some point be overwhelmed by the beauty and serenity of huge plots of land that remain virtually untouched. It made me think, If there is such thing as 'God's country,' this truly must be it. And there is a charm to small towns that cannot be matched by the excitement and glamour of bustling cities. Residents and strangers alike are all old friends, and life moves at a pace that allows one to truly enjoy a lively conversation over a hot breakfast and the summer breeze caught in the veil of a new bride.
Though a thousand-mile-round-trip-in-the-span-of-72-hours mini-vacation wasn't always riveting, the truth is I would have traveled much further and much longer to celebrate the wedding of dear friends, who now embark on a far greater journey of love, partnership, and compromise.
May they continue to laugh at one another's 'big butte' jokes and not take every opportunity to kill the other's cows with each passing cemetery.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
25 Things of Importance from My 25th Year
I kicked off the 25th year by going to the Red Bull Flugtag in Saint Paul. Grown adults, about 6-8 per team, build falling flying machines and throw them into fly them over the Mississippi river. Very fantastic way to celebrate one's birthday!
The Muddy Buddy Race, where I learned that ski slopes are for skiing and mountain bikes are heavy.
A pop/rock concert with my grandma at the Target Center (American Idol on Tour).
Two lovely camping trips to the North Shore with two lovely friends, one of which who has a gift for cooking over a fire.
A trip to our nation's capitol, which I think should be called the City of Learning. You cannot possibly be seeing Washington, DC right if you do not learn something. Also got to see an exhibit by one of my favorite contemporary American artists, Chuck Close.
Defended my Masters thesis on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.
(So I am using my calendar to make sure I don't miss any important events) I wrote "Christmas Tree Extravaganza" on a weekend in December and at first couldn't figure out what on earth that meant. But then I remembered: it means even as an adult, there is something very safe and a bit magical about getting to go to the home where you grew up, even if it is only 15 miles from your current home.
Right away into the new year I met someone who weekly reminds me to 'chill out,' taught me to play frisbee golf, also has good taste in beer, tells wonderful stories from around the world, routinely emails me "must hear this" music, and provides a lot of perspective when things feel chaotic.
The ladies of the family took a clay tiles class. The lesson? Canvas and paint just makes more sense to me, but I did walk away with at least one awesome coaster and a cool trivet.
Had an article I wrote about going to ASA Fastpitch Nationals as a young teenager published in the ASA Softball magazine.
Weekend trip to Fort Myers, Florida to watch Twins Spring Training, hang out with two fabulous ladies, and eat delicious seafood at quirky restaurants.
Moved into my first "on my own" apartment in a quiet Saint Paul neighborhood. Quickly discovered how expensive that is.
Celebrated Mom's first 5K finish at the Get in Gear 5K at Minnehaha Park!
Toured local brewery, Surly, and fell in love with their story (I was already in love with the beer).
Bought a kitty. Rescued a kitty. I already can't remember what my home was like before he walked under my feet, meowed constantly, and left little bits of shredded [fill in with: paper, cardboard, styrofoam, flowers, spider plant].
Celebrated the graduation of 2 lawyers, a dentist, and a physical therapist. My friends are freakishly smart.
Traveled to Decorah, IA for good beer and a lot of potato salad, good friends, a trombone quartet in a farm garage (as deer ran across the field- no kidding!), and 5 people in a tent. Oh, and a dog the size of a horse.
Personal best time at the Buffalo Triathlon. Thank you, less hilly bike course!
Hung my first art show at the Minneapolis Skyway Senior Center. Apparently drew a lot of opinions from some of Minneapolis's most experienced citizens...
Went to several Twins games (finally seeing Target Field) but the highlight had to be watching one from a suite. Nothing makes me a fan like free food and cushy seats.
Enjoyed the Ordway's production of "Guys and Dolls" with Mom and Kim for Mother's Day/Kim's birthday.
Accepted and sponsored to present my work at a national summit in Atlanta, GA.
Started selling artwork on Etsy. Sold 2 so far, although only to people I know...
Brewhouse Triathlon in Duluth, MN. This trip also included my first time swimming in Lake Superior and a chance to see the beautiful tall ships in a special event in the Duluth Harbor.
The Muddy Buddy Race, where I learned that ski slopes are for skiing and mountain bikes are heavy.
A pop/rock concert with my grandma at the Target Center (American Idol on Tour).
Two lovely camping trips to the North Shore with two lovely friends, one of which who has a gift for cooking over a fire.
A trip to our nation's capitol, which I think should be called the City of Learning. You cannot possibly be seeing Washington, DC right if you do not learn something. Also got to see an exhibit by one of my favorite contemporary American artists, Chuck Close.
Defended my Masters thesis on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.
(So I am using my calendar to make sure I don't miss any important events) I wrote "Christmas Tree Extravaganza" on a weekend in December and at first couldn't figure out what on earth that meant. But then I remembered: it means even as an adult, there is something very safe and a bit magical about getting to go to the home where you grew up, even if it is only 15 miles from your current home.
Right away into the new year I met someone who weekly reminds me to 'chill out,' taught me to play frisbee golf, also has good taste in beer, tells wonderful stories from around the world, routinely emails me "must hear this" music, and provides a lot of perspective when things feel chaotic.
The ladies of the family took a clay tiles class. The lesson? Canvas and paint just makes more sense to me, but I did walk away with at least one awesome coaster and a cool trivet.
Had an article I wrote about going to ASA Fastpitch Nationals as a young teenager published in the ASA Softball magazine.
Weekend trip to Fort Myers, Florida to watch Twins Spring Training, hang out with two fabulous ladies, and eat delicious seafood at quirky restaurants.
Moved into my first "on my own" apartment in a quiet Saint Paul neighborhood. Quickly discovered how expensive that is.
Celebrated Mom's first 5K finish at the Get in Gear 5K at Minnehaha Park!
Toured local brewery, Surly, and fell in love with their story (I was already in love with the beer).
Bought a kitty. Rescued a kitty. I already can't remember what my home was like before he walked under my feet, meowed constantly, and left little bits of shredded [fill in with: paper, cardboard, styrofoam, flowers, spider plant].
Celebrated the graduation of 2 lawyers, a dentist, and a physical therapist. My friends are freakishly smart.
Traveled to Decorah, IA for good beer and a lot of potato salad, good friends, a trombone quartet in a farm garage (as deer ran across the field- no kidding!), and 5 people in a tent. Oh, and a dog the size of a horse.
A long and trying few weeks responding to the North Minneapolis Tornado. Today, I am proud to have been a small piece of the puzzle that helped bring the needed resources to those affected and hopefully in the coming months we will see a stronger Northside.
Personal best time at the Buffalo Triathlon. Thank you, less hilly bike course!
Hung my first art show at the Minneapolis Skyway Senior Center. Apparently drew a lot of opinions from some of Minneapolis's most experienced citizens...
Went to several Twins games (finally seeing Target Field) but the highlight had to be watching one from a suite. Nothing makes me a fan like free food and cushy seats.
Enjoyed the Ordway's production of "Guys and Dolls" with Mom and Kim for Mother's Day/Kim's birthday.
Accepted and sponsored to present my work at a national summit in Atlanta, GA.
Started selling artwork on Etsy. Sold 2 so far, although only to people I know...
It's been a good year. I am feeling ready to head into the next quarter century!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Drugging Your Cat and Other Thursday Night Things To Do
A few weeks ago-- maybe even over a month now-- I became the owner/feeder/keeper of this charming orange ball of fury kitty.
This model of cat (who I named Jasper, after Jasper Johns who is a famous American artist) comes complete with 20 extremely sharp claws, a mouthful of needle sharp teeth, and one giant attitude. Unfortunately, right after I got him, I was involved in the tornado response in North Minneapolis and any sense of regularity and schedule he and I had started to develop was totally destroyed.
Since then, we have had a series of minor, but no less annoying, owner-cat issues. Some hyperactivity, some aggression, some attempts to destroy things that I would rather not have destroyed thankyouverymuch. I tried feeding him more, and then less, and then different. We have reestablished a schedule, as much as possible. We play for no less than 15 minutes every morning and every night.
And yet, the following things have happened this week:
1. At one point in the evening, I found him completely underneath my area rug in the living room.
2. He climbed through the blinds. And then got stuck.
3. He wedged himself in the space between the storm window and the inside window. And then got stuck.
4. He jumped onto the shower curtain rod. And then got stuck.
5. He spent 45 minutes at 3 AM jumping on the wall after a dead bug and letting the pads of his feet squeeeeeak all the way down the wall on his way back to the floor, where he landed with a thud! and a MEOW! before promptly jumping again.
6. My feet have been attacked while I was doing the following: sweeping, sleeping, stepping into the shower, stepping out of the shower, coming into my apartment, leaving the apartment, sitting on the couch, feeding the cat.
And the truthiest truth is that I love him for his quirks and the strange trouble he gets himself into. But tonight I was at Petco and I saw these treats (he loves a tuna treat!) that help calm cats. Like, uh, kitty Xanax. I had actually been told about this once before-- some herbal supplements to basically get your cat to just chill the eff out. And I was totally against it! I wasn't going to drug my cat! I was simply going to love the bad behavior right out of him!
At the moment I was walking away, I remembered a story a grad school classmate told me about traveling when she was a child. When she was little her parents used to give all their kids Benadryl or some other drowsy-making medication that made them all zonk out for the duration of a flight or road trip. So the kids basically had no recollection of traveling-- just being in new places. It's not that these parents didn't love their kids, they just also valued their own sanity. So for $5.99 I thought I would just try it, and if I ended up with some doped up, tuna treat addict for a cat, we could stop. Enter him into detox, and then stop, really.
I walked into the apartment at 5:47 PM and the moment of truth occurred just before 6 PM. And guess what? He wasn't doped up, he didn't just crash and sleep the whole night. In fact, he still got in a little bit of trouble. But he wasn't on the verge of psychosis. More importantly, I was not on the verge of psychosis. He was playful and he even bit me once, for old time sake. But now, as we wind down for bed he is actually winding down. Let the choir sing.
The packaging says I can give him 1-2 per day. $6 per pack, 21 treats in the pack = $2 per week for a happier household that I think we are both appreciating. I can handle that.
Monday, June 27, 2011
And Then There Were Nine (Again)
6 months ago, I regaled you with the tale of the first marathon training casualty. A little right pinkie toenail that disappeared into the night. Later, I gladly reported the little guy's return and a once again full set of stubby toenails.
It is with a heavy heart (but lighter foot?) that I report today the loss of the left pinkie toe toenail.
When I first decided to train for theridiculous impossible foolish challenging marathon, the first piece of advice I got was "Read. Read. Read. Read everything and try everything." So I created some bookmarks, got a subscription to Runner's World, and starting amassing as much knowledge as possible. The first article I read? "101 Ways Running a Marathon Will Totally Destroy You and the 1 Single Way it Will Be Cool."* Way at the top of the 101 Ways This Will Be Miserable was the loss of toenails. And it was followed by all these phrases that tried to make the disappearance of a body part seem normative: 'It happens to everyone,' 'don't be alarmed' blah blah blah. Don't be alarmed when part of you is completely missing?! Please.
In my mind, I envisioned this bloody war between running shoe and human body, complete with the stained socks of battle, weeks of taping the toe in hopes of saving the nail, and finally the literal agony of defeat (de-feet?) when the little guy finally lost his will to be on my pinkie toe any longer. It was destined to be a battle that I was prepared to fight, even though I knew the end result would be the same.
But it didn't happen like that at all. No blood. No savagely bruised foot or toe. No futile efforts to save it. It just quietly slipped away. Less heroic and more like the little nail said, "Eff this, I am sick of being rubbed by this damn shoe all the time. I'm out."
In a lot of ways I am glad it went this way. Realistically, running socks aren't cheap and I didn't want to ruin a million pairs in a daily battle for toenails. Also, I bet most of you cringed more than once reading this because severe toenail pain is totally one of the worst kind of pains. I don't need that. But there is something about having this great battle story, the "mind-over-body, woman-goes-all-out-to-save-nail" epic that I feel I didn't get. I was prepared to fight for it, and my body didn't give me the chance.
Luckily, I have some MONSTER blisters to battle. Sexy.
*I mean, this could be a tiny bit of an exaggeration, but hardly.
It is with a heavy heart (but lighter foot?) that I report today the loss of the left pinkie toe toenail.
When I first decided to train for the
In my mind, I envisioned this bloody war between running shoe and human body, complete with the stained socks of battle, weeks of taping the toe in hopes of saving the nail, and finally the literal agony of defeat (de-feet?) when the little guy finally lost his will to be on my pinkie toe any longer. It was destined to be a battle that I was prepared to fight, even though I knew the end result would be the same.
But it didn't happen like that at all. No blood. No savagely bruised foot or toe. No futile efforts to save it. It just quietly slipped away. Less heroic and more like the little nail said, "Eff this, I am sick of being rubbed by this damn shoe all the time. I'm out."
In a lot of ways I am glad it went this way. Realistically, running socks aren't cheap and I didn't want to ruin a million pairs in a daily battle for toenails. Also, I bet most of you cringed more than once reading this because severe toenail pain is totally one of the worst kind of pains. I don't need that. But there is something about having this great battle story, the "mind-over-body, woman-goes-all-out-to-save-nail" epic that I feel I didn't get. I was prepared to fight for it, and my body didn't give me the chance.
Luckily, I have some MONSTER blisters to battle. Sexy.
*I mean, this could be a tiny bit of an exaggeration, but hardly.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Fartlekking
The fartlek is an interval training used by many athletes and specifically to build speed in runners. Fartlek is Swedish for "speed play," giving the runner some idea that this type of training is play-like: fun, joyous, invigorating.
It is not. It is exhausting, grueling, and a bit painful on the feet/calves/hips.
What's the Swedish work for "speed hell?"
According to Google Images, fartlekking looks like this:
Notice her long stride, her relaxed posture during the slower intervals, how nice her t-shirt and shorts still look at the end of the last interval.
Clearly, no one at Google has ever done one of these workouts. The truth: The first fast interval feels awesome (for me, this is 2 minutes at a 6.5mph pace). After the two minutes, I slow to a 5.6-6.0 mph for one minute and think, Gosh this is so easy! I could do this all day. I am the picture of health and fitness! I repeat this 2 minute speed/1 minute jog 3 times until minute 9. I am progressively starting to feel a little twinge in my legs and think, Twinge? That's fitness, baby! Keep rockin' out these miles! By minute 9 (when I get to walk briskly for 1 minute) I am thankful for a chance to rest a bit. That 1 minute of walking goes by extremely fast, but I remind myself I am 1/3 of the way through the workout. Only 20 more minutes to go. So I repeat the 2 speed/1 jog cycle, but this time by around minute 15 I am ready to pass out. I tell myself, You are already half way. So stupid to quit now. Just finish. Stop looking at the clock and just run. I am drenched in sweat. I smell awful. After a drink of water the saliva sticks to the top of my water bottle and makes a gross, gooey bridge from my mouth to the spout as I put the bottle back in it's holster. By minute 19 (the next chance to walk), I am feeling better and decide to forgo my rights to a walking minute and run at a 7.0 mph pace through that minute. I pay for this at exactly 25:43. The last 10 minutes of the fartlek are a blur of Just get through it. It will be done soon. and The pain in [fill your your favorite body part here] is quite noticeable. By the time the little treadmill clock ticks from 29:59 to 30:00, I can hardly contain my joy. I am a wheezing, sweating mess.
All because Gosta Holmer, a Swedish running coach, was sick of getting beat by the Finns in the 1930s, once a week I have to sacrifice for the running sins of the slow Swedes.
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