Last week I went to a bike maintenance class at West Town Bikes. I really didn't want to go: that day, I'd been rejected at the pool (I'll have to get even scheme-ier in my ways or drop $80 for a community summer membership...), and the weather was less than fantastic. I was about to say 'eh... maybe next time,' but my co-worker who I roped into this whole triathlon thing really wanted to go and didn't know how to get there, so I caved and went.
Apparently we chose the night they were expecting the highest numbers since they started the class. Of course. There are six bike stands there, and they expected around 20 people. We all gathered in a super small crowded space and introduced ourselves saying our name, how we found out about the class, and what we wanted to take away from it. I wasn't super enthusiastic about the get-to-know-you session, but it was actually nice to realize that most of them had no idea what they were doing either. There were even a few who were doing triathlons and wanted to be able to fix a flat should it occur during their race. So once that was over we spread out to the six stands.
When we'd arrived, the Guy-in-Charge said 'choose one bike between the two of you to work on' since it was so crowded. I'd brought my Craig's List Junker-- which needs more work than a basic maintenance class could begin to offer, so we decided my friend would put her bike up. However, after introductions, the class-helper-man put MY piece of work up there and furrowed his brow as he looked at it. I told him to put the other one up there and he said "This one is already up," and walked away. I apologized to my friend and listened as Helper-Man started telling us how to change a flat. When demonstrating how to de-flate a tire (helloo... it's already flat!) they demonstrated on MY bike of course; Guy-in-Charge (with bruskee in hand! hahaha) who was walking around from group to group just walked up and said "this is an easy way" and took a little tool (a pedro?) and let ALL the air out, then walked away after commenting on how atrocious my tires were. I just stared in somewhat disbelief thinking 'you better re-flate that, son.' Then I eyed the slew of tire pumps not far and realized I could do it if he failed to right his wrong. After we watched Helper-Man change a tire and then got to do it ourselves. I convinced him to put my friend's bike on the stand because I'm never going to change a tire on my junker-beast. My friend and I worked together to change her tire and an hour or so later finally did it with TONS of help. Let me just say that if I am racing and get a flat, that will be the end of my race. Also, to get the proper pressure in the tires, you have to have a floor pump, and there is no way I'm going to try to lug one of those on the bike leg of any triathlon. C'mon people!
After we completed the tire task, we put my bike back up on the stand and I said to Helper-Man 'listen to this' and I started turning the pedals. This is the loudest bike ever (second to IH) which convinces me that it's about to break any second. As he heard the chirping and squeaking his disgruntled expression said 'this bike sucks' and he told me to "Lube the hell out of that thing!"-- (seriously, direct quote). I chuckled and started lubing. I was shocked at what a little (..okay a lot of) lube can do. It's not silent by any means, but the loud chattering has quieted to more of a whisper with a click here and there. Helper-guy walked by and raised his eyebrows, impressed at the progress. He then noticed that my brakes were braking ON the tire, not just the rim, so he offered to adjust it. Bad news: my rear break doesn't work now! Haha-- he noticed it right before I left, then tinkered with it for a quick second, but on the way home-- no dice. It's okay, though, because I never used the rear break anyways because it makes a SUPER loud noise (I'd use it if someone got in my way and I wanted to passive aggressively let them know it irritated me). So the front break is fine, if anything I'm mourning the loss of my makeshift horn.
All in all I'm glad that I went. Even better-- the class was 'free' with a suggested donation of $10. I can support that kind of thing.
In other news:
-TWO WEEKS exactly until the sprint triathlon. This is bad news as I am nowhere NEAR ready. I don't want to even talk about it.
-Costco has restocked with Boca Burgers! Miracles DO happen! I swore to myself that if I saw them there ever again that I'd get two boxes, as they are literally 50% cheaper in bulk than at the regular grocery store. And I DID get two boxes. Truthfully, I wanted three or four, but resisted the urge.
-I went to church this morning, only to find that they switched to the summer hours this week, so I arrived JUST as the service was ending. Send out an email or something, people!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Locked Out
I'm slowly on the mend! Yesterday I was afebrile which is wonderful since my soccer team's banquet was scheduled for that evening and I'd hate to go and infect everyone or miss it all together.
The weather here has been gorgeous-- dare I say HOT. So after three days of hiding out inside, I really was itching to get some Vitamin D. I needed to write cards for each girl on the team before the banquet, so I decided to do it in our quaint little backyard. It was the first time it felt like summer. Almost too hot, but I am NOT complaining. I sat outside for two hours soaking up the sun and getting re-energized. While sun is awesome, too much of it makes me feel gross, so I decided to go inside. I gathered my stuff and walked to the back door only to find it was locked. This was bad news. My roommate had left maybe 30 minutes earlier to go on a run saying "you'll be here, right? I don't need to take my keys then." I reluctantly went to ring the doorbell of my landlord, trying to think of how to seem less pathetic and annoying for interrupting his day. However, this was not necessary because he wasn't home. Shoot. I went to call him, just to realize that I didn't have his phone number! Who doesn't have their landlord's phone number?! So I texted my roommate and she replied with his phone number. This would have been a relief, but he didn't pick up. I was so hot! I was so thirsty! I was recovering from being sick! I couldn't take this stress! (I may have been getting dramatic, too). So, I decided I didn't care about being obnoxious and called again. It's amazing what 15 minutes can do, as he picked up this time. Relief? NO. He was in a suburb and couldn't be back for at least 45 minutes. Better than ... never, but still not the immediate relief I was hoping for. As I hung up I instinctively said "Don't hurry, it's a gorgeous day to be locked out..." and thinking at the exact same time What are you saying?!?! HURRY HURRY! I get like that and it irritates me. By this time, my roommate had returned and we spent the next 15 minutes or so trying to break into our apartment (climbing on garbage cans, reaching in the window to try and unlatch the safety lock..), which I am now glad to report is very secure. At the time I was annoyed. We gave up and sat. It was nice to have some company, I suppose, but I was BAKING. I could feel my skin frying and I was soo thirsty and getting cranky. Also, it was now 3:00 and I needed to leave by 5:00 for the banquet. I still needed to shower and straighten my crazy hair as it had been very neglected for several days.
Landlord eventually came back and graciously let us back into our apartment where we scurried around to get on with our lives. I got to the banquet on time and looking half way decent, but on FIRE.
Lesson learned: take your keys everywhere, even the back yard.
The weather here has been gorgeous-- dare I say HOT. So after three days of hiding out inside, I really was itching to get some Vitamin D. I needed to write cards for each girl on the team before the banquet, so I decided to do it in our quaint little backyard. It was the first time it felt like summer. Almost too hot, but I am NOT complaining. I sat outside for two hours soaking up the sun and getting re-energized. While sun is awesome, too much of it makes me feel gross, so I decided to go inside. I gathered my stuff and walked to the back door only to find it was locked. This was bad news. My roommate had left maybe 30 minutes earlier to go on a run saying "you'll be here, right? I don't need to take my keys then." I reluctantly went to ring the doorbell of my landlord, trying to think of how to seem less pathetic and annoying for interrupting his day. However, this was not necessary because he wasn't home. Shoot. I went to call him, just to realize that I didn't have his phone number! Who doesn't have their landlord's phone number?! So I texted my roommate and she replied with his phone number. This would have been a relief, but he didn't pick up. I was so hot! I was so thirsty! I was recovering from being sick! I couldn't take this stress! (I may have been getting dramatic, too). So, I decided I didn't care about being obnoxious and called again. It's amazing what 15 minutes can do, as he picked up this time. Relief? NO. He was in a suburb and couldn't be back for at least 45 minutes. Better than ... never, but still not the immediate relief I was hoping for. As I hung up I instinctively said "Don't hurry, it's a gorgeous day to be locked out..." and thinking at the exact same time What are you saying?!?! HURRY HURRY! I get like that and it irritates me. By this time, my roommate had returned and we spent the next 15 minutes or so trying to break into our apartment (climbing on garbage cans, reaching in the window to try and unlatch the safety lock..), which I am now glad to report is very secure. At the time I was annoyed. We gave up and sat. It was nice to have some company, I suppose, but I was BAKING. I could feel my skin frying and I was soo thirsty and getting cranky. Also, it was now 3:00 and I needed to leave by 5:00 for the banquet. I still needed to shower and straighten my crazy hair as it had been very neglected for several days.
Landlord eventually came back and graciously let us back into our apartment where we scurried around to get on with our lives. I got to the banquet on time and looking half way decent, but on FIRE.
Lesson learned: take your keys everywhere, even the back yard.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
sick
I have been very sick.
I woke up Sunday morning feeling fairly normal, nothing exciting. Work called as I was getting ready for church asking if I could work that night. I thought about it for a second and then said "sure." If I worked that night, I could have Tuesday night off which would mean four days off in a row, and I'd get paid more for working the weekend night than the weekday night. So I went to church and was mentally trying to figure out how I could take a nap AND get to the gym before selling my soul to the hospital for twelve+ hours. In the middle of the service I got SO COLD. Goosebumps, shivering uncontrollably. "Yea yea, we know it's cold there..." You may say. BUT-- it was a gorgeous day, probably in the 70s. I was dressed appropriately (I was at church, afterall..) in jeans and a light sweater. But I was FREEZING. This continued through the end of the service, I also noticed a slight headache coming on. As I walked home (the whopping block and a half), I must have looked like a loon-- I could NOT control the shaking and my TEETH were chattering very audibly. At this point I realized I must have a fever and tried to scurry home as much as my awkward flip flops would allow. I got home and bundled up-- t-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt, hooded sweatshirt (with hood up and cinched tight no less), earmuffs, fleece jacket, warm up pants, soccer socks, and slippers. I laid in bed for two hours, but had taken my fantastic stimulants that work all too well so I was unable to sleep. I got up at the time I told myself I was going to the gym (before work) and tried to convince myself that I was fine. I took ibuprofen and prayed that it would work some miracles. No miracle happened. After much persuasion, I called in. I felt REALLY bad since they'd called me that morning asking if I could come in because they were short. I hate flaking out, and I hate the bad-mouthing that happens toward someone whenever they do call in. I felt awful making them short again because I know the frantic-ness that happens afterward. Ugh. But physically I felt worse. I was SO cold, but sweating profusely. I soaked three different hoodies, it's ridiculous. My head was throbbing, no in one spot but my entire cranium was just pulsating, threatening to explode any second. The ibuprofen was doing jack. My temp was 104.3, so I took the next dose (4 tablets this time, I was not joking around), and went to sleep. Febrile dreams are the worst. I dreamt about being way too hot-- I was in some country on the equator thinking "man, they're not kidding when they say it's hot here." Then I would dream about being too cold-- not surprisingly the location of that dream was good ole Chicago- got locked out in the winter without a coat. I woke up at 10 something the next morning even more exhausted than when I went to sleep. I still felt gross. Everything in my body HURT. Every joint, every muscle, anything. If I stood up I looked like an 80 year old woman hunched over and limping. I couldn't straighten my arms (still can't) because my biceps HURT. That is concerning to me. Down a whopping 0.3 degrees I hung out all day at 104. WTF. Not long after waking up I called in again, as I was supposed to work that night, too-- this time I didn't feel so bad. My good friend Amanda brought me some Tylenol PM. I asked for it hoping I would sleep better, and Tylenol is a much better fever stopper than ibuprofen, anyways. So I took that around 7 last night, then woke up when my dad called around 9:30, then somehow wound up in bed because I woke up rested this morning at 8:30. The first thing I noticed was the stench. Two days of non stop sweating really added up and I had the stink to prove it. I've felt better today, but not awesome. Still really dizzy, headache is off and on, still can't straighten my left arm and my back still hurts a lot. My fever is down to a chilly 101, so I am encouraged. Much longer at 104, I'd be forced to do something about it, and I hate doctors. I called into work for tonight, too (when I called in Sunday they said they would put me back on for Tuesday, bless them). I'm not scheduled until Saturday, so as long as I continue on this upswing I should be back in action by then.
I am mortified at how suddenly this came on! In hindsight, I did have a slight headache on Saturday night. I also noticed my joints hurting more than usual on Saturday, to the point where I thought Hmm, maybe I have rheumatoid arthritis. (Disclaimer: I am a hypochondriac). So I guess there was some buildup, but man to be fine in the morning and then 104.3 by early evening seems AWFULLY dramatic! Yowzer.
My last venture to the gym was Saturday night. Well, I guess it was Sunday morning. Being on the night shift schedule, I went at 12:30am and it was wonderful. I saw maybe fifteen other people and none of them were in my way. Perfect. There were, however, irritating people outside that insisted on banging on the windows as they walked by. Since then I've taken up residence on the couch. I hate being stagnant, but imagine severe injury would result if I set foot on a treadmill right now. Boo.
I woke up Sunday morning feeling fairly normal, nothing exciting. Work called as I was getting ready for church asking if I could work that night. I thought about it for a second and then said "sure." If I worked that night, I could have Tuesday night off which would mean four days off in a row, and I'd get paid more for working the weekend night than the weekday night. So I went to church and was mentally trying to figure out how I could take a nap AND get to the gym before selling my soul to the hospital for twelve+ hours. In the middle of the service I got SO COLD. Goosebumps, shivering uncontrollably. "Yea yea, we know it's cold there..." You may say. BUT-- it was a gorgeous day, probably in the 70s. I was dressed appropriately (I was at church, afterall..) in jeans and a light sweater. But I was FREEZING. This continued through the end of the service, I also noticed a slight headache coming on. As I walked home (the whopping block and a half), I must have looked like a loon-- I could NOT control the shaking and my TEETH were chattering very audibly. At this point I realized I must have a fever and tried to scurry home as much as my awkward flip flops would allow. I got home and bundled up-- t-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt, hooded sweatshirt (with hood up and cinched tight no less), earmuffs, fleece jacket, warm up pants, soccer socks, and slippers. I laid in bed for two hours, but had taken my fantastic stimulants that work all too well so I was unable to sleep. I got up at the time I told myself I was going to the gym (before work) and tried to convince myself that I was fine. I took ibuprofen and prayed that it would work some miracles. No miracle happened. After much persuasion, I called in. I felt REALLY bad since they'd called me that morning asking if I could come in because they were short. I hate flaking out, and I hate the bad-mouthing that happens toward someone whenever they do call in. I felt awful making them short again because I know the frantic-ness that happens afterward. Ugh. But physically I felt worse. I was SO cold, but sweating profusely. I soaked three different hoodies, it's ridiculous. My head was throbbing, no in one spot but my entire cranium was just pulsating, threatening to explode any second. The ibuprofen was doing jack. My temp was 104.3, so I took the next dose (4 tablets this time, I was not joking around), and went to sleep. Febrile dreams are the worst. I dreamt about being way too hot-- I was in some country on the equator thinking "man, they're not kidding when they say it's hot here." Then I would dream about being too cold-- not surprisingly the location of that dream was good ole Chicago- got locked out in the winter without a coat. I woke up at 10 something the next morning even more exhausted than when I went to sleep. I still felt gross. Everything in my body HURT. Every joint, every muscle, anything. If I stood up I looked like an 80 year old woman hunched over and limping. I couldn't straighten my arms (still can't) because my biceps HURT. That is concerning to me. Down a whopping 0.3 degrees I hung out all day at 104. WTF. Not long after waking up I called in again, as I was supposed to work that night, too-- this time I didn't feel so bad. My good friend Amanda brought me some Tylenol PM. I asked for it hoping I would sleep better, and Tylenol is a much better fever stopper than ibuprofen, anyways. So I took that around 7 last night, then woke up when my dad called around 9:30, then somehow wound up in bed because I woke up rested this morning at 8:30. The first thing I noticed was the stench. Two days of non stop sweating really added up and I had the stink to prove it. I've felt better today, but not awesome. Still really dizzy, headache is off and on, still can't straighten my left arm and my back still hurts a lot. My fever is down to a chilly 101, so I am encouraged. Much longer at 104, I'd be forced to do something about it, and I hate doctors. I called into work for tonight, too (when I called in Sunday they said they would put me back on for Tuesday, bless them). I'm not scheduled until Saturday, so as long as I continue on this upswing I should be back in action by then.
I am mortified at how suddenly this came on! In hindsight, I did have a slight headache on Saturday night. I also noticed my joints hurting more than usual on Saturday, to the point where I thought Hmm, maybe I have rheumatoid arthritis. (Disclaimer: I am a hypochondriac). So I guess there was some buildup, but man to be fine in the morning and then 104.3 by early evening seems AWFULLY dramatic! Yowzer.
My last venture to the gym was Saturday night. Well, I guess it was Sunday morning. Being on the night shift schedule, I went at 12:30am and it was wonderful. I saw maybe fifteen other people and none of them were in my way. Perfect. There were, however, irritating people outside that insisted on banging on the windows as they walked by. Since then I've taken up residence on the couch. I hate being stagnant, but imagine severe injury would result if I set foot on a treadmill right now. Boo.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Whilst blog-stalking, I came across this website, Wordle. I entered my blog and it came out with this. Click on the image to enlarge it and go to the website.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
WHAT TO DOOOOOO?!?!?!
So this sprint triathlon in June is in Naperville, a suburb of Chicago. From my front door to transition is 33miles. There is no race-day packet pick up, meaning I will have to venture out there Saturday between 10am and 4pm to get my packet.
DILEMMA: I have no idea how I'm going to get there on race day, much less the day before the race, too! Here are my options:
1) Ride my bike.
Pro's
-Cheap
-Good exercise
Con's
-A long ride the day before the race...
-Have to fit all my stuff into one backpack, which CAN be done, but it'd be heavy.
-The ride back
-Where to stay on Saturday night because no way would I bike there and back Saturday, then return via bike in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday.
2) Take the train
Pro's
-Cheaper than renting a car
-Will get me within 5 miles of transition
-Can take my bike on train
Cons
-Still have to find somewhere to stay Saturday night, b/c train doesn't run early enough
Sunday AM to get me there on time (and we all know how I like to be on time).
-No way to travel to packet pick up or the race site except my bike.
3) Rent a car
Pro's
-SO MUCH EASIER
Con's
-SO expensive
BAAAH. So I have an equal dilemma in finding somewhere to crash on Saturday night as finding a way to even get there in the first place. Usually I think these things through PRIOR to registration. My co-worker is doing this race, too, but will be driving out on Friday to do wedding planning stuff with her family who lives 30 minutes from this suburb. She offered to let me stay at her parent's house Saturday night. I hate imposing. I just hate hate hate imposing. UGGGGGGGGHHH I get so stressed out about stuff like this. I like it when everything falls into place perfectly and cheaply. For the love of all humanity.
I've looked at hotels. There is one that is sponsoring the race and will give participants the 'triathlon rate' of $92/night. ?!?!? That's a discount?! Sounds an awful lot like the 'discounted' bike fit at $150. There is a shuttle from the train to the hotel, but the hotel is 6 miles from the race site. All this makes my stomach knot! This morning I was leaning toward doing a hotel. Then I leaned toward quitting. Then I leaned toward renting a car. Then I leaned toward taking my coworker up on her offer. Then I just fell over. Geez louise I need to get a grip ... stat. VOMIT VOMIT VOMIT.
In other news:
*My team will NOT be advancing to the playoffs. =( Please be disappointed in this fact, as they wanted it very badly and fought hard to earn a spot. Apparently we were tied for second place with a team that barely beat us, then ended up losing to teams we smoked. Unfair? Yes.
*I went on a glorious bike ride the other day. The never ending trail really doesn't end! I went a total of 42 miles and was exhausted by the end of it. I woke up this morning and every muscle in my body was screaming at me. It was awesome. And I am happy to report-- no falls! Woohoo!
*I wasn't sleepy the other night (back on the drugs-- yes please) and was checking my email around midnight. I received on that said "save $20 on the Chicago Half Marathon." I'm such a sucker for a sale. If anything says it's on sale, or is a 'buy one get one free' or any half way enticing offer, I latch on to it. All this is to say that I'm now registered for the Chicago Half Marathon on September 13th, a mere two weeks after the Chicago Tri. I woke up the next morning and saw the confirmation email and had a painful 'What did you do?!' experience.
*Night shift tomorrow. Get on your knees and pray, my friends. It'll be brutal.
(PS-- there is a tornado warning for all of Chicago right now and it's thundering and lightening outside-- there were like 200 lightenings in the past 10 minutes or something crazy like that... weather seriously freaks me out. I'm going to go 'do laundry' in the basement for a while... slash hide out from the tornado.)
DILEMMA: I have no idea how I'm going to get there on race day, much less the day before the race, too! Here are my options:
1) Ride my bike.
Pro's
-Cheap
-Good exercise
Con's
-A long ride the day before the race...
-Have to fit all my stuff into one backpack, which CAN be done, but it'd be heavy.
-The ride back
-Where to stay on Saturday night because no way would I bike there and back Saturday, then return via bike in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday.
2) Take the train
Pro's
-Cheaper than renting a car
-Will get me within 5 miles of transition
-Can take my bike on train
Cons
-Still have to find somewhere to stay Saturday night, b/c train doesn't run early enough
Sunday AM to get me there on time (and we all know how I like to be on time).
-No way to travel to packet pick up or the race site except my bike.
3) Rent a car
Pro's
-SO MUCH EASIER
Con's
-SO expensive
BAAAH. So I have an equal dilemma in finding somewhere to crash on Saturday night as finding a way to even get there in the first place. Usually I think these things through PRIOR to registration. My co-worker is doing this race, too, but will be driving out on Friday to do wedding planning stuff with her family who lives 30 minutes from this suburb. She offered to let me stay at her parent's house Saturday night. I hate imposing. I just hate hate hate imposing. UGGGGGGGGHHH I get so stressed out about stuff like this. I like it when everything falls into place perfectly and cheaply. For the love of all humanity.
I've looked at hotels. There is one that is sponsoring the race and will give participants the 'triathlon rate' of $92/night. ?!?!? That's a discount?! Sounds an awful lot like the 'discounted' bike fit at $150. There is a shuttle from the train to the hotel, but the hotel is 6 miles from the race site. All this makes my stomach knot! This morning I was leaning toward doing a hotel. Then I leaned toward quitting. Then I leaned toward renting a car. Then I leaned toward taking my coworker up on her offer. Then I just fell over. Geez louise I need to get a grip ... stat. VOMIT VOMIT VOMIT.
In other news:
*My team will NOT be advancing to the playoffs. =( Please be disappointed in this fact, as they wanted it very badly and fought hard to earn a spot. Apparently we were tied for second place with a team that barely beat us, then ended up losing to teams we smoked. Unfair? Yes.
*I went on a glorious bike ride the other day. The never ending trail really doesn't end! I went a total of 42 miles and was exhausted by the end of it. I woke up this morning and every muscle in my body was screaming at me. It was awesome. And I am happy to report-- no falls! Woohoo!
*I wasn't sleepy the other night (back on the drugs-- yes please) and was checking my email around midnight. I received on that said "save $20 on the Chicago Half Marathon." I'm such a sucker for a sale. If anything says it's on sale, or is a 'buy one get one free' or any half way enticing offer, I latch on to it. All this is to say that I'm now registered for the Chicago Half Marathon on September 13th, a mere two weeks after the Chicago Tri. I woke up the next morning and saw the confirmation email and had a painful 'What did you do?!' experience.
*Night shift tomorrow. Get on your knees and pray, my friends. It'll be brutal.
(PS-- there is a tornado warning for all of Chicago right now and it's thundering and lightening outside-- there were like 200 lightenings in the past 10 minutes or something crazy like that... weather seriously freaks me out. I'm going to go 'do laundry' in the basement for a while... slash hide out from the tornado.)
Monday, May 11, 2009
rAnDoM
I've been SO tired. I have been going to sleep between 8:30 and 9pm, waking up between 7 and 8am. I'll wake up and be checking my emails, then wake up between noon and 1:00pm and think 'wtf?!' I'll wake up, barely drag myself out the door to go coach, yawn through practice, have small spurts of energy, then hoof back home to go to sleep by 9, sleep the night through then repeat it all the next day. What's the issue?!
Well, a little more than a week ago I ran out of my narcolepsy drugs. "Get a refill," one might suggest. And that's what I did. Walgreen's has a great system where you can refill online and not have to talk to anyone on the phone or wait in long lines-- I love it. So a day before I ran out, I refilled it. A few hours later, though, I received an email with "Your prescription is NOT ready for pick up" in the subject line. Eh?? Apparently I'd exhausted my refills, and they had to contact the doctor's office before they could fill 'er up. Whatever. Unfortunately that took FOUR DAYS. Four days of sloth-like sleepiness. Four days where in the midst of my mental pep talk to get off my arss and to the gym, I'd fall asleep. Then when I got the email that all was well and ready, I'd lost my debit card. How could I pay the $30 copay without my only plastic? I never have cash and my teensy change cup held a mere $3.24 (I counted while praying for a miracle similar to the fish and loaves episode Jesus pulled to feed 500... swing and a miss). So it took me a couple of days to remember the archaic way of payment known as personal checks. I'd considered everything-- asking my parents for money until I could find my debit card, selling my eggs (supposedly you can get 10 G's for that!!), selling my plasma, liver, a kidney on the black market... you name it I considered it (minus prostitution-- gotta draw the line SOMEWHERE). Whilst weighing my options today, the light bulb of checks came to mind, and I'm happy to report that I now have my precious stimulants that will make life worth being awake for once again. This is great timing, as my night shift drama starts on Thursday and I pity the patient that has the narcoleptic nurse during the night shift when she's off her meds. Shoot.
In other news:
-Sprint Triathlon in one month. I am not ready in the least. The pool I swim at is closed until May 22nd which doesn't help my anxiety. Most anxiety remains in the run leg. Running isn't the same as it was last year, and I'm starting to think it never will be. A while ago I ran at the pace I used to do my 8 mile runs and could barely pound out three. Discouraging. I know that I've made small improvements since being de-booted, but I'm still mortified at the slow slow slow pace (no pun intended) of this 'comeback'.
-My team may or may not have made it to the playoffs. Confusing? Yes. Apparently we're tied for second with a team that beat us during the season. The head coach seems to think that the first tie-breaker is head to head competition, so we'd be screwed if that's the case. Either way we'll find out for sure tomorrow. Hopefully we get to go to playoffs. They've really worked hard this season, and have actually improved quite a bit. They really want to go to playoffs, too. I've been shocked at how much they care! So often in practice they're apathetic and not invested in what they're doing. I expected them to learn we may not be in the playoffs and shrug it off like the weather report. But they were pissed! It was great to see they had some fight in them.
-As I previously mentioned-- back to night shift this week. If there were anyway I could avoid the night shift, I'd do it. I have so much disdain and hate for working 7pm-7:30 (or 8, or 9...)am.
-The other night I was riding my bike home from work (at 9:30pm!!) Less than a mile from the hospital I saw a guy riding his bike and get hit by a taxi! I saw it coming and was like 'no...noo...nooo.. NO!' VERY luckily, the guy was fine, but his bike got mangled pretty badly. I stopped to make sure he was okay (not really sure what I would have done if he wasn't...) and ended up sticking around to be a witness. I figured that if I'd been hit, I would want someone to back me up. It's scary to be reminded that bad stuff happens when you mix bikes and cars. It's not like I forget-- every day I ride I am scared to death of doors and blind/arrogant/ignorant motorists, but to SEE it happen is just scary! I've never been a police witness before. That was weird.
-I had the privilege of working on Mother's Day. It was gloriously slow (I love it when holidays and weekends collide because the hospital gets sooo quiet!). But amidst the peace I found my mind wandering back home to the family gathering that I knew was happening. Admittedly during high school, I wasn't always thrilled to be at every family gathering (mostly the one that fell in September, usually on the last weekend of summer...). But each one that passes while I'm in this flat wasteland makes me miss them (and the family that gather) more and more. Some fantastic moms in that group.
Well, a little more than a week ago I ran out of my narcolepsy drugs. "Get a refill," one might suggest. And that's what I did. Walgreen's has a great system where you can refill online and not have to talk to anyone on the phone or wait in long lines-- I love it. So a day before I ran out, I refilled it. A few hours later, though, I received an email with "Your prescription is NOT ready for pick up" in the subject line. Eh?? Apparently I'd exhausted my refills, and they had to contact the doctor's office before they could fill 'er up. Whatever. Unfortunately that took FOUR DAYS. Four days of sloth-like sleepiness. Four days where in the midst of my mental pep talk to get off my arss and to the gym, I'd fall asleep. Then when I got the email that all was well and ready, I'd lost my debit card. How could I pay the $30 copay without my only plastic? I never have cash and my teensy change cup held a mere $3.24 (I counted while praying for a miracle similar to the fish and loaves episode Jesus pulled to feed 500... swing and a miss). So it took me a couple of days to remember the archaic way of payment known as personal checks. I'd considered everything-- asking my parents for money until I could find my debit card, selling my eggs (supposedly you can get 10 G's for that!!), selling my plasma, liver, a kidney on the black market... you name it I considered it (minus prostitution-- gotta draw the line SOMEWHERE). Whilst weighing my options today, the light bulb of checks came to mind, and I'm happy to report that I now have my precious stimulants that will make life worth being awake for once again. This is great timing, as my night shift drama starts on Thursday and I pity the patient that has the narcoleptic nurse during the night shift when she's off her meds. Shoot.
In other news:
-Sprint Triathlon in one month. I am not ready in the least. The pool I swim at is closed until May 22nd which doesn't help my anxiety. Most anxiety remains in the run leg. Running isn't the same as it was last year, and I'm starting to think it never will be. A while ago I ran at the pace I used to do my 8 mile runs and could barely pound out three. Discouraging. I know that I've made small improvements since being de-booted, but I'm still mortified at the slow slow slow pace (no pun intended) of this 'comeback'.
-My team may or may not have made it to the playoffs. Confusing? Yes. Apparently we're tied for second with a team that beat us during the season. The head coach seems to think that the first tie-breaker is head to head competition, so we'd be screwed if that's the case. Either way we'll find out for sure tomorrow. Hopefully we get to go to playoffs. They've really worked hard this season, and have actually improved quite a bit. They really want to go to playoffs, too. I've been shocked at how much they care! So often in practice they're apathetic and not invested in what they're doing. I expected them to learn we may not be in the playoffs and shrug it off like the weather report. But they were pissed! It was great to see they had some fight in them.
-As I previously mentioned-- back to night shift this week. If there were anyway I could avoid the night shift, I'd do it. I have so much disdain and hate for working 7pm-7:30 (or 8, or 9...)am.
-The other night I was riding my bike home from work (at 9:30pm!!) Less than a mile from the hospital I saw a guy riding his bike and get hit by a taxi! I saw it coming and was like 'no...noo...nooo.. NO!' VERY luckily, the guy was fine, but his bike got mangled pretty badly. I stopped to make sure he was okay (not really sure what I would have done if he wasn't...) and ended up sticking around to be a witness. I figured that if I'd been hit, I would want someone to back me up. It's scary to be reminded that bad stuff happens when you mix bikes and cars. It's not like I forget-- every day I ride I am scared to death of doors and blind/arrogant/ignorant motorists, but to SEE it happen is just scary! I've never been a police witness before. That was weird.
-I had the privilege of working on Mother's Day. It was gloriously slow (I love it when holidays and weekends collide because the hospital gets sooo quiet!). But amidst the peace I found my mind wandering back home to the family gathering that I knew was happening. Admittedly during high school, I wasn't always thrilled to be at every family gathering (mostly the one that fell in September, usually on the last weekend of summer...). But each one that passes while I'm in this flat wasteland makes me miss them (and the family that gather) more and more. Some fantastic moms in that group.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Finally
I finally rode my new bike today.
I walked it to a nearby park and put on my 'bike shoes.' I fastened my helmet, clipped in with one foot, said a prayer and was off. From the second I pushed off I realized my prayer was too short and decided that a constant dialogue between me and the Big Guy would be a good idea for this life threatening endeavor I was trying to embark upon. I got my second foot in the pedal without too much struggle and was riding the bike. So smooth, so fast, so quiet. Heavenly. Then I realized that sooner or later I'd have to stop. So I practiced taking my foot out of the clip and then putting it back in. After a couple of laps around the park (avoiding any person or animal or potential obstacle at all costs), I came to a dead end and realized the street was my only option (other than falling over sideways). I decided to ride to a path I'd found last summer. This involves the street and several stoplights. I tried to time the lights so I wouldn't have to stop (which requires taking my foot out of the clip and then putting it back in when the light is green). So I'd slow up when I saw a red light and pray that by the time I got there it'd be green and I could just proceed without any clipping business. Of course, that's not how it worked. At one stop light, the second I decided to take my foot out and succeeded in doing so, the light turned green. I got startled or something, but I wanted my other foot out, but couldn't get it out fast enough and then I was just standing still barely balancing on the skinny little tires of this fancy steed. Then I felt it-- gravity. Such a powerful force that I was unable to over come. My steady stream of prayer intensified as I called out God by name as I became one with concrete. I got up, rode on the sidewalk for a few blocks, and figured it out. I got to the trail and within five minutes was at the end of it. I'm telling you-- this thing is SO stinking fast. So I decided to continue on to the never ending trail that I trained on last summer. I got to it and really embraced the beauty of this bike. Until now I'd been uber cautious and been focused on my stupid feet being STUCK to the pedals. With stoplights and cars out of the equation, I could enjoy going fast and what not.
All in all a good first ride. I am glad because I don't feel like I wasted a significant amount of money on a bike I'll never ride. And I got a tan. All in a day.
One small obstacle-- I can't figure out how to shift down! I shifted all the way up, but it's beyond me how to get it back down. That will be my next challenge...
I walked it to a nearby park and put on my 'bike shoes.' I fastened my helmet, clipped in with one foot, said a prayer and was off. From the second I pushed off I realized my prayer was too short and decided that a constant dialogue between me and the Big Guy would be a good idea for this life threatening endeavor I was trying to embark upon. I got my second foot in the pedal without too much struggle and was riding the bike. So smooth, so fast, so quiet. Heavenly. Then I realized that sooner or later I'd have to stop. So I practiced taking my foot out of the clip and then putting it back in. After a couple of laps around the park (avoiding any person or animal or potential obstacle at all costs), I came to a dead end and realized the street was my only option (other than falling over sideways). I decided to ride to a path I'd found last summer. This involves the street and several stoplights. I tried to time the lights so I wouldn't have to stop (which requires taking my foot out of the clip and then putting it back in when the light is green). So I'd slow up when I saw a red light and pray that by the time I got there it'd be green and I could just proceed without any clipping business. Of course, that's not how it worked. At one stop light, the second I decided to take my foot out and succeeded in doing so, the light turned green. I got startled or something, but I wanted my other foot out, but couldn't get it out fast enough and then I was just standing still barely balancing on the skinny little tires of this fancy steed. Then I felt it-- gravity. Such a powerful force that I was unable to over come. My steady stream of prayer intensified as I called out God by name as I became one with concrete. I got up, rode on the sidewalk for a few blocks, and figured it out. I got to the trail and within five minutes was at the end of it. I'm telling you-- this thing is SO stinking fast. So I decided to continue on to the never ending trail that I trained on last summer. I got to it and really embraced the beauty of this bike. Until now I'd been uber cautious and been focused on my stupid feet being STUCK to the pedals. With stoplights and cars out of the equation, I could enjoy going fast and what not.
All in all a good first ride. I am glad because I don't feel like I wasted a significant amount of money on a bike I'll never ride. And I got a tan. All in a day.
One small obstacle-- I can't figure out how to shift down! I shifted all the way up, but it's beyond me how to get it back down. That will be my next challenge...
Saturday, May 2, 2009
oh-- by the way-- my team wasn't allowed to high five the other team after the game in order to avoid the potential spread of the RIDICULOUS H1N1 Virus. They were permitted to verbally acknowledge "Good game" but no contact was to be made. Don't mind the body slamming and sweating that went on the sixty minutes preceding the end of game walk of sportsmanship.
WITHOUT LOGIC. I scoff at the paranoid people out there who are insisting that the government is conspiring something and distracting the public with this STUPID Swine Flu issue, but when they pull crap like "no high fives" it almost makes me wonder. ..Almost.
WITHOUT LOGIC. I scoff at the paranoid people out there who are insisting that the government is conspiring something and distracting the public with this STUPID Swine Flu issue, but when they pull crap like "no high fives" it almost makes me wonder. ..Almost.
LAAATE.
Punctuality is a very important thing in my life. Tardiness represents disrespect in my opinion. If I am late to my commitment, it means I don't respect that commitment enough to get my act together to arrive on time. If you are late to meeting me, I feel disrespected. Call me. crazy, but that's my mindset.
I was super tired and fairly cranky when I got home from work last night (shocking, I know). I was trying to decompress from a long day and to mentally organize my plans for the next day (today). My team had a game and I knew it was going to be on the far south side of the city. I was going back and forth between biking there and taking a public transportation. Both would take ages. I looked up the routes for both and decided to sleep on it. The game was to be at 1:00 so I needed to be there at 11:45-12:00 for warm up. I set my alarm for 7am-- plenty of time to wake up figure out which mode of transportation to embrace, and get there stress free. ...HA.
So I finally rolled out of bed at 7:30 this morning. As I poured a bowl of Fiber One (which by the way isn't all the commercial makes it out to be...), I thought to myself wouldn't it be awful if the game was at 10:00am? I'm so glad it's not....... It's not, right? .....RIGHT?! I ran to my computer to check the weekly schedule email from the varsity coach. Lo and behold, my game was to start at 10:00. I may have used a choice word or two. PANIC PANIC PANIC. I am going to be LATE! I don't disrespect them! I have lectured them SO MANY TIMES about being on time! AAAAAHHHHHHHH.
Let the scramble begin: I threw clothes on and waved the magic mascara wand over my eyelashes WHILST brushing my teeth. I was out the door by 8:15--- a mere 45 minutes before warm up. Somewhere in the whirlwind of getting ready to go I decided to bike-- it was a fairly direct route, and this way I'd be in control. Sure a bus can travel faster than a bike, BUT, a bike was available to me RIGHT THEN, I didn't have to wait for it. I didn't have to switch bikes when I was halfway there. I didn't have to worry that my bike wouldn't come. And most of all, I wouldn't be sitting on a bus watching time go by, but I could use my adrenaline producing panic at being late to my advantage to go faster on my bike.
What bike did she use? You may ask. I recently got a cheap junker from Craig's List. It's not awesome, but it's (slightly) more reliable than IH. So I rode it.
I pedaled. Each pedal stroke I recited the address of my destination so I wouldn't forget. For the first mile or so of the 11 mile journey, I kept hitting stop lights and was getting irritated. HELLOOO DIDN'T THEY KNOW I WAS IN A HURRY?! Then I kept hitting green lights which at first I was very pleased with. After a while I was ready for a rest! Haha. I pedaled like there was no tomorrow. Mentally I drifted back to the triathlon. I felt both excitement and dread for it. Excited because it is ultimately fun, dread because my quads were burning already. After about 45 minutes of crazy biking, I saw a huge bridge. Even the slightest rise in altitude is potentiated by the fact that there are essentially no legit inclines around here. I gulped as I stared up at the Everest of the Midwest and started pedaling. I down-shifted, I got out of the saddle I huffed and puffed. I heard a siren nearby and was embarrassed that someone thought I looked so distraught they'd called me an ambulance! Luckily I was wrong and no one cared quite that much. At the top I gasped and wheezed and vowed to get a new inhaler STAT.
Down the bridge and a couple more miles, and I was finally there! I made it, thirteen minutes LAAATE to the warm up. I apologized profusely to my team who graciously forgave me and ended up winning their game. And then I made the trek back in a much less panicked fashion. Phew.
I was super tired and fairly cranky when I got home from work last night (shocking, I know). I was trying to decompress from a long day and to mentally organize my plans for the next day (today). My team had a game and I knew it was going to be on the far south side of the city. I was going back and forth between biking there and taking a public transportation. Both would take ages. I looked up the routes for both and decided to sleep on it. The game was to be at 1:00 so I needed to be there at 11:45-12:00 for warm up. I set my alarm for 7am-- plenty of time to wake up figure out which mode of transportation to embrace, and get there stress free. ...HA.
So I finally rolled out of bed at 7:30 this morning. As I poured a bowl of Fiber One (which by the way isn't all the commercial makes it out to be...), I thought to myself wouldn't it be awful if the game was at 10:00am? I'm so glad it's not....... It's not, right? .....RIGHT?! I ran to my computer to check the weekly schedule email from the varsity coach. Lo and behold, my game was to start at 10:00. I may have used a choice word or two. PANIC PANIC PANIC. I am going to be LATE! I don't disrespect them! I have lectured them SO MANY TIMES about being on time! AAAAAHHHHHHHH.
Let the scramble begin: I threw clothes on and waved the magic mascara wand over my eyelashes WHILST brushing my teeth. I was out the door by 8:15--- a mere 45 minutes before warm up. Somewhere in the whirlwind of getting ready to go I decided to bike-- it was a fairly direct route, and this way I'd be in control. Sure a bus can travel faster than a bike, BUT, a bike was available to me RIGHT THEN, I didn't have to wait for it. I didn't have to switch bikes when I was halfway there. I didn't have to worry that my bike wouldn't come. And most of all, I wouldn't be sitting on a bus watching time go by, but I could use my adrenaline producing panic at being late to my advantage to go faster on my bike.
What bike did she use? You may ask. I recently got a cheap junker from Craig's List. It's not awesome, but it's (slightly) more reliable than IH. So I rode it.
I pedaled. Each pedal stroke I recited the address of my destination so I wouldn't forget. For the first mile or so of the 11 mile journey, I kept hitting stop lights and was getting irritated. HELLOOO DIDN'T THEY KNOW I WAS IN A HURRY?! Then I kept hitting green lights which at first I was very pleased with. After a while I was ready for a rest! Haha. I pedaled like there was no tomorrow. Mentally I drifted back to the triathlon. I felt both excitement and dread for it. Excited because it is ultimately fun, dread because my quads were burning already. After about 45 minutes of crazy biking, I saw a huge bridge. Even the slightest rise in altitude is potentiated by the fact that there are essentially no legit inclines around here. I gulped as I stared up at the Everest of the Midwest and started pedaling. I down-shifted, I got out of the saddle I huffed and puffed. I heard a siren nearby and was embarrassed that someone thought I looked so distraught they'd called me an ambulance! Luckily I was wrong and no one cared quite that much. At the top I gasped and wheezed and vowed to get a new inhaler STAT.
Down the bridge and a couple more miles, and I was finally there! I made it, thirteen minutes LAAATE to the warm up. I apologized profusely to my team who graciously forgave me and ended up winning their game. And then I made the trek back in a much less panicked fashion. Phew.
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