For those who still read the blogs from time to time...
I have been doing my best to keep up the change in my nutritional content since I started training for Chicago. Like most, it is a battle everyday. Some days, it is a war. Others...I just fall to the floor and play dead until the guilt drifts past me. This weekend was one of the 'roll over and play dead' weekends.
My journey lasts about two hours. During that time, I am usually station-hopping on the radio to find a familiar song. Sometimes I will catch a preacher giving a sermon. Most days, I am aware that I need spiritual rejuvenation, so I listen with an open mind and heart. In recents months I feel that I am getting better at praying and having a relationship with God. So much so, that I find myself trying to justify things that I have yet to do but merely thought of...like getting a pint of ice cream once I reach the store on base. I fought with God, telling him that I would run Saturday afternoon and that I would eat moderately the whole weekend to make up for it. He said "No". What young (young in faith) child listens to their Father all the time?
Fastforward to Saturday evening. I ate modestly all day. I even ran the 'Random' option on the treadmill - not realizing that it had a good number of hills at a pretty steep incline. I didn't complain or change it; I ran the course and finished. I even did some weights. By the time I had finished my 'modest' dinner, I had made up my mind that I was going to get some ice cream at the store. (Mind you, I am lactose intolerant...but I love some ice cream. Especially the different flavored kinds like the Ben&Jerry's.)
I returned to my barracks room with my ice cream in tow and decided that I would wait on taking my shower right away and do my laundry first. (It's about 10 degrees colder in Meridian, so I figured since I was already adjusted to the cold, I'd wait before warming myself in the shower.) The barracks are actually guest accomodations - much like hotel rooms. The doors have electronic key cards. I had already started my load of laundry when I began to indulge myself while watching T.V.. A fourth of the way into my pint, I realize it's time to dry my clothes. I set down my ice cream, grab my key card and shove it in my pocket and head to the laundry room. While making the switch, a fellow Sailor shows up to do his laundry. We chat, he walks me down the hall and departs in the opposite direction of me. Rounding the corner, I retrieve my card and notice my ATM card was in my pocket too. 'Geez, I hope it didn't demagnitize my keycard. I reach my door - wet 'hang-dry' items in hand - and insert my card. Red light. 'Okay. Try again.' Swipe. Red light. 'Whattayamean RED LIGHT!?' Swipe. Swipe,swipe, swipe. 'I have ice cream in there waiting on me!' (The flavor was Chocolate Covered Cherries)
To make a lllloooooonnngggg story much shorter, I spent the first five minutes searching for a warm body that owned a car to take me to the billeting office to redo my key. I then spent the next hour going back and forth to the billeting office because none of the keys they gave me worked. Not even their master keycard. Did I mention that I had the heater on at 72 degrees, nice and toasty. It was during the manic tennis match of my room and the billeting office, with me as the ball, that I began to get the notion that something THIS extreme is rarely heard of. I am convinced that divine intervention kept my door locked so I couldn't finish that ice cream.
I was given another room down the corridor. Tired and annoyed, I had to wait another hour before I could sleep because when I had put my clothes in the dryer, I forgot to push the start button. An hour later I decided to go ahead and take a shower since, on the bright side, I had clean underwear...my Mother would have been proud. I finally got to bed around 11:30 p.m. A crank call from some pervert woke me at midnight. And then the billeting office called a 2 a.m. to tell me the maitenance guy was at my room now fixing the door and that he would let me in if I wanted to sleep in there. Groggily, I made my way to the original room. The red light came on for him too. He tried a few times with the same lights flashing and then... the door opened. I thanked him as he left and laid eyes on the foam content of the pint carton. 5 hours later. Had I gotten in there sooner, I probably would have tried to salvage the dessert by shoving it in the freezer like a fool. Oh well. I was good while it lasted.
So, the moral of this story...
Listen to your Father.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
I Like Bread and Butter....I Like Toast and Jam....
Tuesday. November 8. 2005. Is it me or is time flying by? I must be having fun. Or my watch is wrong.
This is PMS week. He-he. I know, I shouldn't use it as an excuse but I do get those cravings, something awful. And not having to carb-load weekly is really tough on a girl. I can't wait until the half-marathon in Madison. I've already made reservations at Olive Garden. It's a good thing the banquet is on Friday or I couldn't justify my eating. I like food. Does it show? Don't answer that!
I am not sure what I'll be bringing to the banquet. To commit to something now would be a mistake. But I am taking requests. I would like to bring something hearty, but it's so hot outside that it screws up the whole 'winter wonderland' feel of cooking. I can't even wear my plaid skirt. (No I haven't gone shopping, I've had that skirt for two years and only wore it once)
On a different note, I learned this morning that I wasn't suppose to tell you all about T'Knesha's hangover, so disregard my last blog.
My hair is getting longer. I haven't decided if I want to wear it as a full fledge afro or slik it down. It'll be time for another haircut soon.
The library is closed Thursday and Friday, so if any changes are made to the banquet, one of you call me and let me know. I'd hate to show up to an empty clubhouse, all dressed up with no where to go.
This is PMS week. He-he. I know, I shouldn't use it as an excuse but I do get those cravings, something awful. And not having to carb-load weekly is really tough on a girl. I can't wait until the half-marathon in Madison. I've already made reservations at Olive Garden. It's a good thing the banquet is on Friday or I couldn't justify my eating. I like food. Does it show? Don't answer that!
I am not sure what I'll be bringing to the banquet. To commit to something now would be a mistake. But I am taking requests. I would like to bring something hearty, but it's so hot outside that it screws up the whole 'winter wonderland' feel of cooking. I can't even wear my plaid skirt. (No I haven't gone shopping, I've had that skirt for two years and only wore it once)
On a different note, I learned this morning that I wasn't suppose to tell you all about T'Knesha's hangover, so disregard my last blog.
My hair is getting longer. I haven't decided if I want to wear it as a full fledge afro or slik it down. It'll be time for another haircut soon.
The library is closed Thursday and Friday, so if any changes are made to the banquet, one of you call me and let me know. I'd hate to show up to an empty clubhouse, all dressed up with no where to go.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Wild Horses While Hung Over...How else is there to run??
Afternoon and salutations!
Some of you may have heard about the Saturday run. Melissa, Hallie (with friend) and T'Knesha showed up to join me. Well, the first three showed up at 8, the latter showed up later. As it turns out, her "I'll be a few minutes late", turned out to be 30 minutes. When she arrived, a sheepish grin emerged on her face and she made her way towards. "I am never drinking again!" Yes, ladies and gents, T'knesha was hung over. After all that marathon training, T'Knesha became a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. Much to her chagrin, she dragged herself to meet me after a night of...wait for it...TWO margaritas! (Mind you, she did not eat before or after those two margaritas.) Sorry girl, I couldn't wait to tell someone, you had me so tickled.
Regardless of the prior night's indiscressions, she made it through the whole 7 miles...slowly. On the way back, a man in a truck slowed down to tell us to becareful going around the curve because some wild horses were loose and running in the street. At first I thought this was a joke. But he looked serious and T'Knesha took him for being serious because I kept trotting and notice she wasn't beside me anymore. She had fallen back to let me lead. Hung over and scared, T'Knesha cautiously followed. Taking our time, we made it around the curve and no horses. Apparently it was a joke, or not. Then I saw them. Four horses were across the street near a trailer home, wild-looking and free. I could only imagine moments earlier when all four horses stood at the division line of property and pavement, looking left to right as the cars passed by. The arrogant one coaxing the foal, "I dare you..." They all milled around the tree line, stealing glances as if to hide a wrong.
We finished our run and treated ourselves with some bagels a la Beagle Bagel. Kept T'Knesha from buying some Caramel cake...and myself from a cookie. It was a good morning to run. I may run again Saturday, but will have to do it earlier if I do.
Take care marathoners.
Some of you may have heard about the Saturday run. Melissa, Hallie (with friend) and T'Knesha showed up to join me. Well, the first three showed up at 8, the latter showed up later. As it turns out, her "I'll be a few minutes late", turned out to be 30 minutes. When she arrived, a sheepish grin emerged on her face and she made her way towards. "I am never drinking again!" Yes, ladies and gents, T'knesha was hung over. After all that marathon training, T'Knesha became a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. Much to her chagrin, she dragged herself to meet me after a night of...wait for it...TWO margaritas! (Mind you, she did not eat before or after those two margaritas.) Sorry girl, I couldn't wait to tell someone, you had me so tickled.
Regardless of the prior night's indiscressions, she made it through the whole 7 miles...slowly. On the way back, a man in a truck slowed down to tell us to becareful going around the curve because some wild horses were loose and running in the street. At first I thought this was a joke. But he looked serious and T'Knesha took him for being serious because I kept trotting and notice she wasn't beside me anymore. She had fallen back to let me lead. Hung over and scared, T'Knesha cautiously followed. Taking our time, we made it around the curve and no horses. Apparently it was a joke, or not. Then I saw them. Four horses were across the street near a trailer home, wild-looking and free. I could only imagine moments earlier when all four horses stood at the division line of property and pavement, looking left to right as the cars passed by. The arrogant one coaxing the foal, "I dare you..." They all milled around the tree line, stealing glances as if to hide a wrong.
We finished our run and treated ourselves with some bagels a la Beagle Bagel. Kept T'Knesha from buying some Caramel cake...and myself from a cookie. It was a good morning to run. I may run again Saturday, but will have to do it earlier if I do.
Take care marathoners.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes... - The Platters
The Basset Hounds of my life are finally behind me. Haven't seen that spooky white van in ages. Training for another marathon seems useless without something to be paranoid about. I successfully achieved my goal, but now there is no motivator, no instigator...no Basset Hound! What is a girl to do?
I have been running since the Marathon. Did the Fit to Lead 5K last Saturday. It seems that I am a slow runner in cold weather too. I think it's all the molecules in my thighs and hips. Upon acclimatizing to the colder temperature, they become rigid, stiff. They condense into these massive, abnormally-shaped blocks of dry ice. I use this analogy because with all the rubbing these legs were doing in the brisk morning air, I know I left a trail of smoke for the 5K walkers to follow. And as cold as it was, I'm sure I could have transported an organ or limb inside my tights, all the way to the hospital. Maybe I simply lost the hound in the smoke-screen trail or my stalker wasn't crazy like me to be up and out on a cold Saturday morning. Oh, well.
But as we all know, I do this not for the glory or a PR. I do it for the food. And they had some good grub. Pizza, cookies, fudge, Chik Fillet (sp?). Congrats to Mr. Shumate and Ms. Kossman for oustanding performances. I will have to wait until I am 50 before I start seriously competing. Right now there are too many active 30 - 34 yr olds in the metro area. So, for now, I'll just rely on the glow of my heat-sync thighs to lead me forward and the smoke-screen to confuse the competition in the rear, so I can get a better lead.
On a different note, I like some others, plan to venture out and try another marathon. Unlike T'Knesha, however; I do not plan to do 50 marathons by the time I'm 50. (Go, girl! More power to ya.) I do have a small list of marathons I would like to complete before I die. ('By the time I'm 50' seems so urgent to me.) I am gunning for the Marine Corps Marathon next year. Cool weather, sites, and who could forget... A Few Good Men, thank you. I'm a sucker for high and tights. (That's haircuts, you dirty girls!) And how can you resist the uniform? 8 years and it never gets old. Anyhoo...until then, I'll be doing small races here and there. Hopefully I'll develop a complex about something so it will keep me motivated to train. Training is no fun with it being a soap opera, right?
I'd like to thank my fellow Rockettes, Lisa and Hallie, for a much needed talk and more laughs than I have had in quite some time. I enjoyed our run/walk this morning. For anyone who wants to join me, I plan on doing a long (short) run on Saturday at the Rez. From the Y to the boatlaunch and back. You'll have to bring your own water, though. Start is 8 am. Be there or...don't be there, your pick. No pressure.
Take care everyone. Be safe and keep those smoke-screens to a mininmum this winter! Don't want to cause a pile-up, folks.
I have been running since the Marathon. Did the Fit to Lead 5K last Saturday. It seems that I am a slow runner in cold weather too. I think it's all the molecules in my thighs and hips. Upon acclimatizing to the colder temperature, they become rigid, stiff. They condense into these massive, abnormally-shaped blocks of dry ice. I use this analogy because with all the rubbing these legs were doing in the brisk morning air, I know I left a trail of smoke for the 5K walkers to follow. And as cold as it was, I'm sure I could have transported an organ or limb inside my tights, all the way to the hospital. Maybe I simply lost the hound in the smoke-screen trail or my stalker wasn't crazy like me to be up and out on a cold Saturday morning. Oh, well.
But as we all know, I do this not for the glory or a PR. I do it for the food. And they had some good grub. Pizza, cookies, fudge, Chik Fillet (sp?). Congrats to Mr. Shumate and Ms. Kossman for oustanding performances. I will have to wait until I am 50 before I start seriously competing. Right now there are too many active 30 - 34 yr olds in the metro area. So, for now, I'll just rely on the glow of my heat-sync thighs to lead me forward and the smoke-screen to confuse the competition in the rear, so I can get a better lead.
On a different note, I like some others, plan to venture out and try another marathon. Unlike T'Knesha, however; I do not plan to do 50 marathons by the time I'm 50. (Go, girl! More power to ya.) I do have a small list of marathons I would like to complete before I die. ('By the time I'm 50' seems so urgent to me.) I am gunning for the Marine Corps Marathon next year. Cool weather, sites, and who could forget... A Few Good Men, thank you. I'm a sucker for high and tights. (That's haircuts, you dirty girls!) And how can you resist the uniform? 8 years and it never gets old. Anyhoo...until then, I'll be doing small races here and there. Hopefully I'll develop a complex about something so it will keep me motivated to train. Training is no fun with it being a soap opera, right?
I'd like to thank my fellow Rockettes, Lisa and Hallie, for a much needed talk and more laughs than I have had in quite some time. I enjoyed our run/walk this morning. For anyone who wants to join me, I plan on doing a long (short) run on Saturday at the Rez. From the Y to the boatlaunch and back. You'll have to bring your own water, though. Start is 8 am. Be there or...don't be there, your pick. No pressure.
Take care everyone. Be safe and keep those smoke-screens to a mininmum this winter! Don't want to cause a pile-up, folks.
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