randoms.

I've been MIA from the blogging world. Unfortunately there isn't anything too exciting to post.

Here are some randoms of the past couple weeks:

-Today I got to play soccer with the team I'm coaching because we were one person short for a mini 3v3 tournament. I miss soccer more than I'll let myself realize or admit.

-I went to the gym recently and as I approached the drinking fountain I saw a man SUCKING on it. His lips were sealed over the spout. After I swallowed the vomit that had erupted into my mouth I promptly turned right around as I though I'm not that thirsty. Ever since I've been taking my fantastic green Gatorade water bottle. Thanks again, mom and dad.

-I learned that I'm rotating back to the night shift in the middle of May. Again I was forced to swallow the vomit that erupted into my mouth as I learned of the switch. I hate nights.

-The weather IS getting warmer. Slowly. It'll be nice for a day or two, then it will downpour, thunder, lightening, then get super cold again. My patience is definitely growing thin and I long for sunny days on the beach all year long. Soon enough, my friends. Soon enough.

-I made a monster salad tonight, but can't eat it because the Italian dressing I put on it stings canker sores that I've recently developed. Also, my lips are SO DRY and CHAPPED that if I open my mouth wide enough to eat salad, my lips CRACK and bleed. No bueno.

-I am SO sick of everyone flipping out about Swine Flu. Wash your hands and steer clear of Mexico for awhile, folks.

-I am chronically nauseous.

I'm a pansy.

...So I got this fancy pants bike. But I'm too scared to use it. So here it hangs in the basement... waiting patiently for me to grow some guts and take it for a ride.

I still don't know what to name it. Speedy isn't sitting well... Maybe I can call it SCOTT...

...or maybe Speedster ...

In some feeble attempt to feel worthy of a bike, I went to a spinning class at my mega gym last night. It was okay. I'm out of shape, not new news, but disappointing news. Where my quads used to feel like powerful motors that would get me up that 'hill' or allow me to increase my cadence with confidence, they felt like cold limp noodles saying "what in the WORLD are you trying to pull?!" The instructor at this one was better than ones I've encountered in Chicago in the past-- at the end of the class, though, I learned that she was subbing for the regular instructor. Go figure.

Today I ran 7 miles, though, and that is somewhat exciting. I ran it slowly-- and this run six months ago would have been one I did on a day I wasn't feeling well, but it is the farthest distance I've run since the boot, and for that I will be grateful. My motto is 'once is luck, twice is skill,' so we'll see if it's legit in the next day or so.

I work the next three days in a row, so my new bike won't see daylight at least until Tuesday. Then it's a matter of weather and what not. And if I've gotten the guts to ride the darn thing. Details.

FINALLY

I did it.

I bought the Speedster.

I emailed the bike shop guy because he failed to return my email (bad salesmanship in my opinion but I needed a bike regardless). This time he got back to me like thirty minutes later asking if I could come at 2. I could, so I did. I bussed down there, under the impression I could ride my new ride back. I arrived 15 minutes early and started panicking, as I often do when I'm about to drop several dollars on something. Thankfully my dad talked me down and I went into the store (still a little panicky-- but breathing... kinda).

So the guy pulled the bike out and started looking me up and down and comparing me with the bike. Not saying much, just staring. 'Stop looking at me' I thought. Then I realized this wasn't going to be comfortable. At all. He then said "how tall are you?" I replied 5'7". And what's you're inseam as his gaze wandered to my crotch-- WHAT?! "Um, I have no idea." He guessed about 30 and asked me to get on the bike, so I did, still somewhat mortified by the inseam. The bike felt awkward. I've never had to really lean forward on the Iron Horse and this makes me feel like I am worshipping some gods to the north or something. As I pedaled he continued to stare. He pulled out a measuring tool that looked like something I used in geometry during high school, said "yep, 30. hop off and we'll look at shoes." 'that's it?! that's the bike fit?! $300 for THAT?!' I thought. Still not sold on the idea, I followed him to the shoe wall. Then he said he wanted to watch me walk. Oh lord. If you know me, you know I'm pigeon toed. So I demonstrated my toe-in for him and he said "oh wow." We picked a shoe and a pedal then he said "well, alright." As I opened my mouth to say I wasn't comfortable with that as the total bike fit he said "Let's start the bike fit." PHEW. Up until that point I was seriously regretting being there.

Then he measured my foot and figured out where to screw on the cleat in accordance to my 1st and 5th metatarsal. When people use big terms appropriately it makes me trust them more. He started getting chatty and I appreciated that because when people don't speak it makes me think they don't want to be there and if they don't want to be there I don't want to be there and the less they speak the less I speak and that would ultimately lead to an ill-fitting bike.
I put the shoes on and got back on the bike-- he showed me how to clip in and out. That will DEFINITELY take some practice. I am prepared to fall. The next part consisted of putting velcro on my 5th metatarsal, ankle, knee, hip, shoulder, elbow and wrist. He started to do this and said 'yea it's usually easier with bike shorts..." I had thought ahead and worn my SUPER COMFY tri-shorts under my soccer shorts. Wanting this to be as accurate and worth the $$$ as possible, I told him I had them on and he said "oh good, get those other shorts off." Sick. So now I was in my fantastically tight spandex on a bike (that was set up on a trainer that was on a platform that rotated... it was quite the setup)and he reput the velcro on my hips. I hate people touching me. Then he connected the sensors. I tried imagining I was in a Gatorade commercial so I could feel super cool, but it was to no avail. I started pedaling and he 'recorded' 15 seconds at three different gears on each side. It was awkward, but neat to see how the computer could figure out where my inefficiencies are (were?) and he could then make adjustments in the bike to rectify or minimize them. I wish I understood it more so I could articulate what it does, but I don't know exactly. So then I practiced going through the gears and brakes and everything. These brakes are SO much better than IH's! ... They work. And the gears shift so smoothly, it's crazy. I practiced clipping in and out a couple of times, learned how to take of the wheels and then walked the plank to the register. We'll leave that part out of the story because it makes me nauseous.
As I was getting ready to go, I realized that the pedals on my new steed are only compatible with the clip in shoes. I could TRY to wear my running shoes with them, but it'd be ugly. So I had two options: 1) Ride it home using my new shoes and pray I didn't fall into the streets of Chicago and get run over by an ignorant motorist, or 2) Walk home. I chose to walk. Thankfully, it was a nice day and my dad was available for conversation so it went by quickly. No way was I going to risk life, limb, and more importantly my fancy new bike by taking my first ride with clip in pedals on the actual road! I felt very lame though, and as I walked someone goes "you're walking your bike???" and I sheepishly explained the situation and he just laughed. Awesome.

BUT I DON'T CARE. I HAVE A REAL BIKE!!! This is huge. I haven't really grasped it yet. But I'm excited. Now I need to find a large soft grassy field where no one will watch (and therefore laugh at) me try to figure out how to clip in and out.

I'm honestly kind of scared of it. It's SO light and I feel like I'm going to break it. IH was nice because I didn't have to be careful with it. If I did something that would break it-- it was okay because she was on her deathbed anyways. Now I'm nervous to touch the Speedster. There were some kids scootering on the sidewalk behind me and they kept coming up right be side me as I walked home. I shot the little gremlins dirty looks that said "GET AWAY FROM MY BABY" and they ran off crying (haha not really...). And each little bump in the road I slowed down and either lifted it over said bump or rolled it ever so slowly as not to jostle her precious functioning gears. I'm going to have to get over that. Quickly.

I'm exciiiiiiited.

...I'm going bike shopping in one hour..... eek!

Shamrock FREEZE

(disclaimer-- this whole post is a lot of complaining, and it's my blog so I can complain all I want)

I don't believe the old wives tale that if you are in the cold then you'll get sick. Sure it will 'weaken' your immune system, but it won't introduce new viruses and bacteria to your system-- just make your system less able to fight them off.

The Shamrock Shuffle. Oh my gosh. I knew the weather was going to be bad. I learned earlier in the week that the forecast called for snow. I have developed a passionate dislike for the white poison that falls from the sky and lingers for weeks. All the way through Saturday night-- even into Sunday morning if we're being honest--I wrestled with the desire to NOT run it. Had I not payed the $40 registration fee, heaven knows I would have enthusiastically run on the treadmill instead.

When I woke up early Sunday morning, I was expecting to see the stuff, but I wasn't expecting to see a solid inch already accumulated in addition to it falling relentlessly. I checked the event website, praying that it would be cancelled or rescheduled. All it said was that according to the "Event Alert System" it was at the "Yellow Level" meaning "Less than ideal running condition." NO KIDDING. Mortified. I still didn't want to run. I didn't want to hoof downtown on the el, I didn't want to wade through masses of people to get to gear check, I didn't want to stand around waiting for the start horn, I didn't want to RUN -- all because of the snow that was approaching 2 inches deep and forming giant slushy puddles everywhere. I didn't want to. At all.

Then something close to miraculous happened. I had a positive attitude. I had run in colder weather. It was about 30 degrees-- which a couple months ago would have been incredibly exciting. Once I started running, I would get warm. I had worked hard to find someone to work for me that day, and it'd be a waste if I played hookie from the race. I would probably regret it if I didn't run, and I'd paid the registration fee. Honestly, the latter is the clincher-- I hate wasting money.

What to wear? I bundled: many (5) layers of 'technical' tees (long and short sleeved) and a lightweight windbreaker/running coat. I decided to wear my Team in Training hat (to block snow flakes from my eyes) with an ear warmer headband over it. I wore running tights with soccer warm up pants over those. I later realized how idiotic I was in choosing normal socks and knit gloves. Normal socks do jack for keeping your feet either dry or warm. I don't know what socks I should have worn, but my little cotton things were the root of my despair. Also, knit gloves get wet and hold onto moisture. By the time I boarded the el, they were wet and they never dried.

After I brainwashed myself to think 'it's not THAT cold...' I set out. It was between 7:30 and 8:00am on a Sunday-- most people not awake yet... most people returning home from the night before. Point being-- sidewalks not shoveled. As I walked to the el my feet started to get wet. I embraced my new found positivity, realized they were going to get wet sooner or later, and kept saying 'it's a beautiful day for a race.'

This mindset lasted until I got off the El downtown. I feel like it is always much colder downtown than where I live. This could be because downtown is right at the lake front, while I'm a good mile and a half inland. Either way-- it was colder, the wind was blowing harder, and the snow was deeper. I was cold and cranky.

So I tromped the 0.2 miles from the el to the race, basically just following people. That's the beauty of a bigger event-- if you don't know where to go, just follow the masses of people. My attitude had gone polarly opposite of the positivity I briefly encountered. 'This sucks. This is not fun. This is miserable.' Once I found it I had to swim through said masses to get to Gear Check to get rid of the bag full of warm clothes I'd brought for afterward. As I made my way to the start corral I heard an announcement "Five minutes until start corrals A, B, and C are closed." This was my fourth year of participating in this race, and the race honors your loyalty by giving you a closer start each year you do it. So, I'd gotten into corral A. I wanted to get up there because I hate waiting for ten+ minutes after the start just to get to the starting line. So I hustled, and fell. Stupid ice! Fell right on my backside. I was so cranky. SO CRANKY. The snow had turned to sleet/snow/rain and with the endless wind was attacking everyone sideways. My feet were NUMB by this point. I stood in my corral trying to shake life back into them and trying to convince myself to not get back on the El right then.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER we started. I don't understand why we had to wait fifteen minutes after the corrals closed. Honestly, cruel and unusual. I couldn't feel my feet. At all. I thought I was running on stumps. Apparently race-loyal AND super fast people are in Start Corral A as I was being passed on both sides. Humbling. I had given up on this race on Saturday night... I knew I wasn't in as good of shape as last year, I knew the weather was going to be awful... I knew I wasn't going to be pleased with my time.. So I don't want to say I didn't try hard, but ... I didn't try hard. My attitude was by far my greatest weakness. I couldn't get over the fact that this was happening. Two years ago I got sunburnt at this race. Last year I wore shorts. Now there was SNOW and ice and GIANT puddles. Ridiculous. At one point I felt something tootsie-roll esque in my shoe and I thought "what in the world could have worked it's way in there?!" Then I realized it was my pinkie toe. By mile 3 I started to regain sensation in my feet, which was quite relieving as I was getting concerned about them and their ability to withstand frostbite. I did warm up at this time, too and even sweated a little.

I brought true meaning to the Shamrock Shuffle as that is the perfect verb to describe my method of completing the race. Upsetting, really. After I finished I didn't bother changing my clothes (both because there was no place to do so and I didn't have dry shoes so it just seemed pointless). I just got my stuff and booked it back to the El. The quicker I could get in a hot shower the better.

All in all it was perhaps the most miserable race I've run-- even more so than the half marathon in Indy. I was hoping the whole time I'd feel good about it AFTERWARD, and half of my motivation in going was that I knew I'd regret it if I didn't. But I don't feel good about it. It was terrible. I'll admit that a significant amount of the awful-ness came from my attitude-- but it is a character flaw.. I hate snow. If there is anything I hate more than snow, it is snow in late March after several days of 60 degree weather. So it's not a bad race to run-- the three years before have been fantastic. But the weather really put a damper-- a real freezer-- on this one.

And regarding the old wives tale: I usually don't believe it, but I am sick now and I can't hep but blame the weather of my Sunday morning activity.