*From Postsecret

It is things like this that make me hate running on the treadmill at the gym. Nay-- makes me hate being out of shape and running on the treadmill at the gym. I definitely had this mindset at one point. Karma is a bear.

the bowels of hell

The bowels of hell continue to rumble with fury beneath me. I sometimes day dream about clipping the wires to their stereo system... throwing a rock through their window... taping a copy of the noise rule (in all tenants' leases) to their door... Despite all my griping, I realize how fortunate I am that this is one of the bigger things troubling me.

Well....

Not even 24 hours after writing that I am probably bowing out of any races this season, I start thinking "Well...." UGH.
When I was in Chicago last spring/summer, I trained with a coworker most of the time. She's now a hot shot member of a triathlon gym and preparing for TWO half ironmans this summer. She's already done an 8k and a half marathon and apparently this weekend her training added up to two miles short of a half ironman. And I'm on the elliptical. I feel like such a loooser. So then I start looking for ANYTHING to pull me out of this deep rut I'm stuck in. I come across race calendars and training tips, all things that would occupy me for hours on end last year, but now they give me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and fuel my pity party.
Then I came across this. Last year I would have declined the notion of a women's training group because a lot of women are pansies (a lot are hardcore GI Janes, but a lot more are pansies). But now I'm kind of like, I have to do whatever I can to get back at it. And truth be told, I'd fit right in with pansies. So I sent an inquiring email. There is a bike training they're doing May 11th that I (think?) I would like to go to. Even considering it about it makes me nervous and kind of nauseous actually. I haven't ridden ole Speedy since... August or September... the tires are FLAT and I don't have a tire pump. I can only imagine the fool I'll make of myself re-learning the clipping pedals and donning bike shorts. Ugh maybe it's a bad idea. But I can't deny the whispering voice that says maybe it's exactly what I need.

... so we'll see, I guess. =/

(and in the short time it took to scribe this, I already got a response to the email... will someone come with me?!?!)

Sugar Fairy & Crazy Eyes Chaos with a Fish Stench Issue

-For the past few weeks I have made a very conscious and diligent effort to avoid refined sugar due to extreme fear that I have or will soon have the 'betes (Diabetes). This is SO hard for me-- I am addicted to the sweet stuff. While I've failed more than I care to admit, I have done better than I thought I would, and I notice that I feel better too. Less mood swings and stuff. I'm still tired all the time, but that's to be expected when my sleep schedule is so effed up. I have less cravings than I used to, but they're not gone.. and MAN are they powerful! Another reason that I should never be preggers-- I can't handle cravings! I have also discovered avocados and their deliciousness. They make everything better-- boca burgers, salad, etc. I wish there was a way to buy a lot of them without them ALL getting ripe at the same time.

-Confession: I have become a regular (gulp) ... elliptical-er. As I've said for the past several months, running is not working out super awesomely. I figured I needed some cardio and if that meant stepping on the fairy machine, so be it. I'm hoping to build some feeble base of fitness that will grant me success in actual running. We'll see.

-A coworker and I went to a spinning class downtown last week. The instructor was a maniac. When he walked in with veins bulging from his huge muscles, tan leathery skin, and sipping on his MONSTER, I knew we were in trouble. It was the first spinning class my friend ever went to and I think she'll never go back. He started off with a pace of like 250rpms, flashed us some crazy eyes(seriously they were like glowing) and said in an almost eerily calm tone 'This is our warmup." Throughout the class he kept screaming things like "COME ON!" and "ARE YOU WITH ME?!" to which I mentally responded NO! I haven't been with you for a VERY long time! If you've ever seen the movie Heavyweights this instructor resembled Ben Stiller's character to a tee. It was not good.

-I start days on May 5th. I'm so excited. I'm also nervous. Day shift is often mass chaos. But I refuse to whine about that-- it seems a small sacrifice for normalcy in my non-work life. Yes please.

-I am fish sitting again. Whenever I put my face next to the fish bowl to get good look at Fish (I forgot what his name is.. so I call him Fish), he starts FLIPPING OUT and darting back and forth across the bowl. I'm worried I'll give him a little fishy heart attack. Sometimes, though he looks dead, so to see if he is or not I get down and look at him and he jumps back to life. You know its bad when you scare the dickens out of a freaking fish.

-My neighbors are outta control. I spend much of my spare time looking for a new apartment on Craigslist. One that is in a duplex or that is a house of its own. However, I haven't found anything that is in my budget that isn't in the middle of nowhere. Fail. I came home from work this morning and the second I opened the door to the stairwell I was slapped in the face by the stench of cannabis. Man that stuff is rank.

-At this point I don't think I'm going to do any triathlons this summer. I am in no shape to do any and feel good about them. I might change my mind, but I am more and more at peace with the idea of figuring out whatever my issue is with getting back in shape and then embracing races again. If I did any in this state of mind, I would be so disappointed in myself and I'd have a terrible time-- why spend money on that?

Paranoid

Preface: I watch Law and Order (Criminal Intent and SVU) fairly regularly, and have even indulged in online-viewing marathons on occasion. This has led me to paranoia-- in almost every situation I can identify who will rape and/or murder me and why they won't be a prime suspect until 35-45 minutes into the episode that is my life.

When I moved in, there weren't screens on several of my windows. Since it was November and window opening wouldn't be an immediate need, I didn't do anything about it right away. As the weather has been getting warmer, I've wanted those screens more and more. One too many flies have welcomed themselves into my apartment through the gaping open window. So, I put in a maintenance request and within a week, I was woken from my daytime slumber by a handy man, here to install screens.
He was a fine upstanding citizen which made him all the more threatening in my mind. First thing I noticed was his thick accent, which he later would identify as Russian. He measured the windows that were screen-less then said "I will go to Home Depot to get supplies then come back to build the screens." Still half asleep, I nodded okay and shut the door behind him. Then my mind started going crazy. What if he goes to Home Depot to get rope, duct tape, and tarp? He's going to come back and murder me, wrap me up and dump me off. He had no motive, I have nothing of worth to steal in this place (sans my bike which he commented on as it is in one of the rooms w/o a screen), but I was convinced danger ensued. Naturally, I did nothing. I cleaned up a little actually, haha... When he came back I shrugged and let him in. As he built the screens in my living room I sat on the couch and pretended to watch Dr. Phil. It was a very tense silence. Then he started talking. He first asked how long I'd played soccer, motioning to a soccer ball that was on the floor. Oh geeze, he's trying to distract me. BE COOL. So we made small talk. I learned:
-He is from Russia and moved here in 1990. His mom made him move here, but he didn't want to. He went to a military school and liked it because he got along with the other boys there. His mom wanted him to be more social but he never really liked other people than his military school friends.
-He is a trained sharp shooter.
-He ha a license to carry a gun, but is applying for a license to carry a gun with a silencer. (I wanted to ask him why he needs a silencer but could imagine him replying with "So I can do this without anyone hearing" as he whips out his gun and shoots me).
-He played soccer (goalie) professionally in Russia and played some rec here but didn't like it. He wrestled professionally here and enjoyed that more because it was an individual sport. He didn't like losing because of his team, if he was going to succeed or fail he wanted it to be on his terms.
-He is currently looking for a career change into "protective services" which apparently means being a private investigator. According to him, fidelity checks are the most frequent job for PIs. He seemed to think it was silly for people to hire someone for such a reason stating "If you don't trust them, why are you with them?" Ironically, he later told me that he has a mistress even though he is engaged. I asked if his fiancee knew and he said yes, but that she was over it.
-He has two children (ages 5 and 10) that live with their mother (his ex wife) in Nevada.
-He's worked in protective services before and boasted of the power he potentially holds over people by checking their backgrounds and if they pay their taxes. He told me about his ex-wife's new boyfriend or husband and that he checked him out since new-guy has contact with his kids. He also threatened the new-guy with the information he found in case new-guy thought of hurting his kids.
-He told me he can pass a polygraph even if he's lying and that he's done it before.
-He knows how to tell if someone is lying by their body language and other clues he learned in his protective service days.
-Apparently the FBI wanted him to be a Russian translator but he declined because he didn't want to sit behind a desk. He told them he'd be an agent, but they didn't want him because he confessed to smoking pot once in his life.
-He asked where I was from and when I replied "Chicago" he told me he'd been there for 2 hours once. I assumed for a lay over, and he said "No... let's put it this way. I had to 'talk' to someone." He then told me he frequently had jobs where he'd go to a place and then he needed to leave very quickly to avoid aftermath. ?!?!?!?! Perhaps my paranoia is warranted.
-He told me that the Mob doesn't let kidnapping happen in Russia. It happened once where a kid was napped for ransom and the parents went to the Mob for help and the kid was returned to his parents alive, and they also received full garbage bags that had the kidnappers bodies diced into cubes.
-He rides motorcycles and never goes less than 115mph, even on the highways.
-He recommends laying flat on your back all alone in the middle of an open field for several hours to get a clear mind.
-He is a daredevil and at one time swam with sharks (apparently a non-Jaws kind) and put some shield on his arm then attached meat to it. That is his idea of fun.
-He rock climbs without ropes and once got stuck and had to call 911 from 500 feet up a rock face.

The whole time he was chatty chatty chatty. I will believe anything you tell me so long as it makes sense, so for a while I was totally on board with his stories, but the more he talked, the more I was like 'this guy is kinda off.' I started wishing I knew more about psychology so I could profile him and figure out if/how he was going to kill me in order to avoid it. A good two hours later, three screens were built and finally installed (btw not all the windows were the same size, but he assumed they were and just kind of 'made it work'-- dislike). He slowly cleaned up his mess. This is it, get ready to be attacked. He kept TALKING and said I should go sky diving or something to "live a little" (after talking about his risky lifestyle he was unimpressed when I had no stories offer). How clever, he wants me to live a little, but he's going to kill me! But, he didn't have a tarp. He didn't have a rope or any duct tape. He left pretty uneventfully. I'm perplexed... and still paranoid. He knows where I live. He knows I live along (me and my big mouth...). He is a repairman for the building so he's bound to be back. Needless to say I will continue to lock all four locks on my door. But I'm sure he'll find a way around them. He's probably reading this right now.

This is why I should watch less TV. My imagination goes amuck.

Oh snap.

I am in a very foul mood.

For the second week in a row now, I have come home from a soccer game wanting to hang up my cleats forever. What's the deal?!
I'm almost over last week, but today-- oh today. Livid.
First of all, my expectations were high-- it was still daylight (first time since playing here) and it was 60 degrees! Totally set it up for bliss. I arrived to the field that took seriously like 45 minutes to get to due to rush hour, and discovered it is grass. FML. I haven't played on grass consistently since high school and I hate playing on grass. I will admit it, I am a full blown turf snob. Not only does it make for a more consistent and predictable bounce on the ball, it is way less brutal on my achy breaky knees. Grass turns your legs into cement blocks. and your feet into sledge hammers. THEN we only had seven people show up-- again flash back to high school club soccer. It SUCKS playing even one man down, much less FOUR. Not even the sunny weather could negate the grass and lack of teammates. But we played on-- within five running steps my knee caught funny and didn't stop throbbing for the next 90 minutes. About 20 minutes into the first half I took a spill (as I ricocheted off some large man) right on to my right patella-- which has been and continues to be the bane of my existence. Every step on the uneven and SUPER LONG grass was brutal. My touch was so incredibly horrendous due to the rugged terrain and a dysfunctional right leg. When my touch is off, all bets are off. That's the one 'thing' I could ever claim in the game (that and 'vision'... ugh). I am not fast and no matter how hard I have tried to be, speed is something I do not excel in. So granted-- I was kind of bumbling around out there- AT RIGHT WING NO LESS. Probably the WORST position I could be put in. UGH. People slowly started to trickle in leisurely. I'm sorry, I was taught that if you're late, you are RUNNING to the field. When tardy turds saunter in giggling and chatting with spectators I want to throw up on them. At on particular point, I got called for a lame foul-- some thick foreign man was shielding the ball but his legs were SO FAR apart so I poked my foot between his legs to get the ball from behind him. Apparently that's not allowed. A tardy teammate who was SITTING on the sideline as she casually put her shoes on goes "From behind," in such a know-it-all-I'm-perfect-you-suck-how-do-you-sleep-at-night way. I raised my eyebrows at her and said, "Thank you, I'm aware." (...even though I didn't know that was a foul.. whatever). The rest of the game this girl talked to me like I was four years old and had never even HEARD of the sport of soccer in my life, much less played and coached for many many years. I can't even articulate the ludicrous nature of her tone. It pissed me off SO SO SO much. Once it was our goal kick and the goalie had to go quite a ways to retrieve the ball, so I took advantage of that time and was walking to where I needed to be. She yells to me "HEY! GET WIDE... ALL THE WAY TO THE SIDELINE ON GOAL KICKS." I looked at her again and said "I'm on my way there, thank you." I didn't try to hide my pissed off tone. She said the same thing to me again maybe ten minutes later-- I hadn't NOT gotten wide, I hadn't been out of position-- if there were reason for her to correct me, then I might not get as upset, but when it's totally unjustified, I don't tolerate it well. This time I yelled to (at?) her "I KNOW. I AM GOING. I AM CREATING THE SPACE. I AM DOING WHAT I NEED TO. THANK YOU." She shutup a little bit after that. A while later she asked if I wanted to play center and she could play wing, undoubtedly because she thought she could do better at wing, and fine, she probably could. So I accepted the offer enthusiastically. GUESS WHO DIDN'T GET WIDE. GUESS WHO DIDN'T COME BACK TO MARK UP. --EVEN WORSE-- GUESS WHO GOT YELLED AT BY THE SWEEPER TO MARK HER PLAYER WHEN SHE STAYED UP TOP?!?!?! ME. The next time she failed to come back, I yelled to her that she needed to get back-- that didn't go over well.. soo the next time I just picked up her person, trying to turn the other cheek. She kept looking back at me and then looking to the middle (where I should have been) and then she goes "Why don't you go back to the middle?" And I pointed to HER mark and said "Well, I'm marking this player right now, so I was going to stay on her, but if you want to come back and do your job, I'd love to go to the middle." I was so cheezed off by the entire game at this point. I drove through rush hour traffic to play on a shitty field to hurt myself to play in a game where I apparently was in capable of even knowing what to do to get yelled at and bossed around my a know it all snatch who wouldn't even follow her own instructions. AND WE LOST. No thank you I have no desire to be a part of that.
What happened to the game where we pass to feet and work the ball up the field as a team? What happened to the game where we work together and play GOOD soccer? What happened to the game where we relied on skill and intelligence and vision as opposed to speed and how hard you can push? It is so unfortunate that a potentially awesome 90 minutes can be spoiled by a few who really just suck in their attitude and demeanor towards others. It is more unfortunate that I haven't found a way to rise above those boogers in the punch bowl and enjoy the game regardless of their antics.
UGH. I swear she is the spawn of Troy.
For the record-- I do accept constructive criticism. If I am f-ing it up consistently, by all means, offer your two cents. I know that being on the field doesn't offer the time or environment to sugar coat anything so things often come across as curt or mean. I totally acknowledge that and can accept instructions in whatever tone when it is called for . But even though I was not the super star of the game today, I was not the peon that this tool-ette made me out to be and her conduct was completely un-called for. UGH the more I think about it the more I want to never play again-- with her or not. Doesn't seem worth it to get so riled up. I could seriously rant for a lot longer, but I'd say it's gone long enough.
(Final note: it's been quite some time since I've been THIS irritated-- it seriously reminds me of my senior season at NP-- and when I got to this point in frustration and fury I dealt with it by running (because Lord knows I didn't expend any physical energy warming that damned bench-- lets not go there). But right now it is all I can do to walk to the shower and stand in there long enough get clean. I am 24 years old but I might as well be 80. I even have the wrinkles for it. Wah).

Aquatic Aspirations

Swimming. Oh, swimming. I miss the pool I frequented in Chicago. Today as I was rallying myself to hit the gym, a coworker called and asked if I wanted to go swim with her at a 24 Hour Fitness up north. There's pretty much nothing I will say no to socially at this point-- beggars can't be choosers. So despite the fact that I haven't been swimming since ... sometime in October, I suited up and went. We actually did some cardio on some goofy machines (think elliptical on steroids...) for a bit then headed to the pool. I get nervous before any workout. Today, my baseline anxiety was increased due to the fact that it'd been so long since my last aquatic workout and that I was accompanied by someone I know and will see again on a regular basis. If I'm alone at a gym I can tell myself 'It doesn't matter how silly you look, you'll never see these people again.' Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as I made it out to be in my head. My workout companion isn't a super star swimmer so I didn't feel overly ridiculous, and we only stayed in the pool for about 15... maybe 20 minutes. Compared to what I did for swim workouts in the past that's cake.
Swimming today, though, made me wish I would swim more. 'Then do it, clown,' I think to myself... My excuse for not swimming is lame but apparently legit as it has prevented me from kicking and flapping since I got here: the only 24HF locations with pools are uber far away. Downtown isn't ridiculously far, BUT it IS ridiculously crowded and I cannot get over the paying for parking issue. The one we went to today is at least a 30 minute drive from me and that's without traffic. Boo! Perhaps there is hope though, as my coworker told me that she heard from a front desk attendant at the Express 24HF we both frequent that they are building a 'Sport' location not far from it. Supposedly in six months there will be a 24HF with a pool and spinning classes within practical reach. I want to believe it, I really do, but I can't help but think "Yea right." We'll see, I suppose. I'd love for them to prove me wrong.
I've had a love hate relationship with swimming over the years. I hated it when I started my freshman year of high school-- probably because I didn't know how to swim... but by senior year I loved it so much that I begged my parents for a membership to the YMCA so I could swim before school during the rest of the year after the season ended. In college I continued that habit-- while at Anderson I swam 3 days a week with a friend before classes. The pool there was DIVINE-- ohmygoodness, I get goosebumps just thinking about it. And the best part is that it opened at like 5:30am. Man of all the things I hated at that school, I sure loved their gym. Once at North Park I was worried that swimming wouldn't be possible, but then I was grateful to learn of the partnership NP had with a VERY nearby school that allowed us to use their fitness facilities, including their really good pool (even though I got WICKED pinkeye from it my sophomore year... I won't hold a grudge because it was so good to me other than that incident). So that discovery was great and then I saw a poster on campus for a swim club. While we were small in numbers we were fierce in determination and discipline. Man, I miss it!
So remembering all the swimming makes me want to get back to it. Lets see if I can rationalize the drive.. or the parking fee.. (ugh)...
When swimming today, even for a few short minutes-- my arms were like cement blocks thrashing through the water. I'm at the ground zero of fitness and I do not like it.

I also tried sushi for the first time today and was pleasantly surprised that it was not only bearable, but pretty good. I do keep burping seaweed though, which is less than awesome.

Courthouse Shoutout

Last week I went home for just under a week. I love that my job isn't a typical 9-5, and that I can have several days off in a row without having to request vacation. Going home was great and a good change of setting. I've fallen into quite a funk here and getting away for a few days helped to reset my mental mindset (so far, anyways.. I've only been back for like four days..). While at home I went to the 24 Hour Fitness there. It was very not impressive. The more gyms I try, the more I am convinced that the Courthouse is the only gym I will ever have success at. I know it's probably all in my mind, but still.. that place is heavenly. At 24 Hour Fitness in Salem, I went to the spinning class and wanted to die it was so awful. Yes, it was challenging but the instructor was super sub par and it was in a teeny weeny poorly ventilated room. To top it off an old man biking next to me (who was pleasant and chatty before class) asked me as we were wiping down the bikes "How was it?" and when I replied "It was hard!" he nodded his head and said "I can tell..." as he pointed to my face that was BRIGHT red due to physical exertion after a long stretch of sedentary living due to being uber sick. (...lets face it, my face turns red whether I'm in shape or not... but STILL). I swear I attract some rare characters and comments in spinning classes. I was grateful when my grandma let me be her guest at my favorite gym and I lifted in their well equipped and low traffic weight room then went to a real spinning class and enthusiastically suffered through it. I can't say it enough that the Group Ride is so fantastic. I wish with every ounce of my being that the Courthouse would open up a branch in Seattle. They would have one very dedicated member at least. I've been trying to be more diligent in consistent exercise since I've been back. It's crazy how six months ago I would have a panic attack if I missed one day of running, and now I have to constantly bargain with and beg myself to get off my tuckus. Today I even went to the downtown 24 Hour Fitness (for the first time since moving here... 5 months ago...) to do a spinning class there. It obviously isn't the Courthouse but it was better than the Salem 24HF experience. I will probably be going back. I definitely got lost on my way though-- even WITH a GPS! Ha-- how pathetic am I?! And of course it was about 5:30 so rush hour traffic was fierce. Always an adventure.

Anywhooo another rambling post. Nothing terribly exciting or interesting, but hopefully life will spice up a little in the near future. We'll see. I start days in May-- and I am very excited.