Monthly Archives: July 2009

An Uphill Battle

Last week was my first “official” week in my marathon training plan.   The 3 mile runs are pretty easy and it makes me feel great to know that I have reached a point in my life where running 3 consecutive miles doesn’t make me want to die.

However, that 6 mile run last Saturday?  It was a bit tough.  It was ridiculously sunny (well, as ridiculous as the sun can be).  I didn’t have my “waterboy” (instead – he decided to run with me only to crap out because he desperately needed to replace his running shoes and therefore couldn’t take the excruciating knee pain) and well, I discovered that my Nike+ has been shortchanging me this entire time.

That Garmin forerunner watch?  A-maz-ing.  Once I reached 6 miles (according to the watch), I hit the playback on my iPod only to be horrified to hear it say that I ran 6.67 miles.  Maybe that’s why the 10-miler wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

I still run with both gadgets though because I like to pit them against each other as though it is a contest.  I trust the Garmin’s results more than the Nike+ so my running has basically turned into a game of “how far off will my Nike+ be today?”

However, running with the iPod strapped to my arm, the Nike+, the Garmin watch and the heartstrap as well as the Spibelt holding my cell phone (in case of emergencies) makes me feel like the frickin’ Bionic Woman.  It is strange to be hooked up to so many different things yet I can’t imagine letting go of any of them.  Leaving the house without my cell phone actually sends me into a panic.  And yet – if an unknown number calls me, I won’t answer it.  I want to be able to call people whenever I want to… not have them call me whenever THEY want to.

Anywho.

I’ve been running in some extreme heat and humidity this week.  While 3 miles is still quite doable – the idea of running the 7 miles that I need to tomorrow fills me with dread.  And then I look at the training guide and see that the following weekend, I’ll be running 9… and then at some point, I’ll run 20.  20.  That is more than 3 hours of consecutive running.  I don’t even think I can SHOP that long without some sort of coffee, snack and pee break (all in that order).  I feel like I am about to embark upon an uphill battle.

And yet – it just feels so cool to say that I am training for a marathon.

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The Big Birthday Extravaganza or How I Getting Older Sucks

 

I survived my birthday.  I am officially 29 years old.  I still cringe at that number and even sighed when I plugged in my age on the eliptical machine at the gym this morning.

29.  According to Gerard, 30 is now knocking at my door.  Ugh.

So what did I do to celebrate my birthday? 

Tuesday night (birthday eve) – Jeremy and I went to check out Food, Inc.  at the Charles Theatre.  I won’t go into details or an extensive movie review but I highly recommend this movie.  The purpose of this movie is the lift the veil off of the food industry and expose how big business has impacted what we’re eating.  I learned some crazy stuff.

Wednesday morning (birthday!) – Jeremy and the dogs surprised me with my birthday presents.  And yes, we are THOSE people who pretend that the dogs give us presents and cards.  Whatever.

Jeremy picked up a lovely new vegan purse for me along with Swedish Fish and chocolate.

The dogs gave me the Garmin Forerunner 405!  They were too too kind.  I’m stoked about this watch but very intimidated by it.  We’ll see how this goes.  I’m going to wear the watch and my Nike+ thing on my run tomorrow to see what the difference will be in their calculated distance.  And sadly – that is something I am very much looking forward to doing this weekend.  Is this what 29 does to a person?

The main event of my birthday was golf.  Jeremy and I played a 9-hole game at Carroll Park Golf Course.  Based on what some coworkers said about the park, I was expecting to walk onto the set of The Wire and be prepared to bust a cap in someone.

Again – I was disappointed that it was a normal and boring course (although the guy renting out the golf cart had a “Classic Daddy” in the Coca Cola font t-shirt on).


I was pretty excited to play my first game of golf. 

Jeremy was not as excited for my first game of golf.  We had a 6:30am tee time and I could tell that he was getting anxious by the large number of groups that started to show up behind us. 

I took my first swing and the ball went maybe 20 feet.  At this point, Jeremy hung his head in pure mortification and yelled, “Oh god…” as though I had just shown up at some fancy office function wearing a silk blouse tucked into sweatpants with white socks and black sandals.  Geez.

We ended up skipping the first hole just to give us a buffer between the next group since we knew that it would take me forever to get through one hole.  And it did.  But it was fun.



Jeremy in action.



Me feeling like a douche but having fun while feeling this way and taking a terrible swing.

I think all of the holes were either Par 3 or Par 4.  I’m pretty sure I never got below 10 on any hole.

Someone had told me recently that Korean women dominate the LPGA so I thought I’d perhaps have that to my advantage (as though it is a skill that would be apart of my DNA or something… like kung fu).  Clearly I get my golf skills from my dad’s side of the family.

Will we go again?  I think so.  After Jeremy got over being completely embarrassed by me, we had a great time. 

The rest of my birthday was spent running errands.  No joke.  I dropped my car off to get its 100k mile maintenance (and was later delivered the awful news that it needed about $2k worth of work), went to the eye doctor for contacts and went to the grocery store.

Whoo!

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Free Range

So maybe my day is picking up.  The best thing I’ve heard in a long time:

[scene - microwaves/kitchenette at office]

Me: What are you making?

Coworker:  I’ve got some rice, refriend beans and free-range venison.

Based on all the random things I want to blog about – I think I need twitter.

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Blah Yarg Phlthhhh

That’s about how I’m feeling these days.  Tomorrow is my birthday.  This is the first birthday where I just don’t give a crap and would like to spend the day hiding in a hole with my phone shut off.  Instead I’ll be golfing (weather permitting) and running around feeling sorry for myself for turning 29 and complaining about my aches, my checking account and how everything around me keeps breaking.

Some fun examples of annoying things that have broken in the last 2 days:

- My contact lens.  I’m down to my last one and it’s already got a small knick in it.  For anyone that wears contacts, you will understand that this means my contact is not sitting flush against my eye so everything is slightly blurred.  Now I need to figure out when I’m going to make it to the eye doc before my vacation.  It looks like I’ll be going on my birthday.  Whoo.

- My bathroom drawer.  The bottom of the drawer fell out.  This means my boxes of tampons, cotton balls, random bathroom products and junk are all on my bathroom floor.  I did not clean it up this morning which means I’ll get to come home after a long day of work to crap on my bathroom floor.

- My computer.  Is it possible to hate my computer?  It has had some issues for the past year but it just keeps getting worse.  God forbid I try to upload pictures while also looking at something on the internet or plug in my iPod simultaneously to charge.  It just freezes.  So I have pictures.  Lots of them.  Pictures of home projects, deliciously cooked food and Artscape.  Notice that I’m not posting any of said pictures.

- My beloved purse.  Holes abound.  No money for a new equally awesome replacement purse.

- My shoes.  The heel broke on my shoes yesterday.  Fun.

Maybe if I were in a better mood, I wouldn’t even notice this crap.

Also in an unrelated (but perhaps related) topic, I find myself often wondering how I am related to my family.  Seriously.  Did I not just go through the pains of planning a wedding (yeah yeah – it was over 2 years ago but I still feel the pain!)?  My constant cries to my mom of frustrations with family members NOT RSVPing or RSVPing and then NOT EVEN BOTHERING TO SHOW UP DESPITE THE FACT THAT I HAD ALREADY PAID FOR THEIR STUPID FOOD?  You’d think she’d have this etiquette crap burned into her brain.

So why is it that my mom thinks it is appropriate to cancel at the last minute on my friend’s wedding this Saturday? 

How are we related? 

Onto another unrelated (and really unrelated) topic, my friend (whose wedding is on Saturday)’s grandmother passed away last week.  The funeral service was last night.  My friend’s grandmother was 92 years old and I have nothing but fond memories of her that include playing Cranium at Christmas and sleeping over her house and digging through her deep freezer to locate the oldest food product (she had things that had expired 10 years prior).  The service was nice but the best part came in the form of friends sharing their memories of Eleanor.  A few made me cry but one man had me scratching my head and then cringing when he rambled on about his granddaughter crawling and then quickly tried to bring it back to the topic by saying, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that when God takes away our friends, he replaces them with something better.”  Ouch.

It was also great to see a lot of people I hadn’t seen in a number of years but this only brought out the social awkwardness that is me and seeing people I don’t keep in touch with.  Conversations feel forced and I find myself asking questions that I know the answers to, repeating things like, “You’re a mom!” and just saying things that have nothing to do with what we’re talking about such as this lovely exchange:

Person: Kim – you look great!
Me:  Thanks!  You do too.  I don’t know why I have my purse with me.

Awkward.

At least Jeremy got a good laugh.

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Update on Indian Giving

I wish I had a really funny story about how the whole dress fitting/asking for my dress back situation went but unfortunately, it was really normal and boring.

She tried on the dress.  It was a little big in the bust area (who would have thought?!) but everything else was great.

After she expressed interest in taking the dress, I mentioned my one caveat and she was totally fine with it.  She even said, “That’s okay.  I mean, what am I going to do with it after the wedding anyways?”

Easy peasy.

She even offered me money to let her borrow it.  I kindly declined.

And then we went to see Harry Potter.

Seriously – boring.  It was about as boring as the new Harry Potter movie but not nearly as dorky as the movie goers discussing the boring movie upon exiting the theatre.

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Romper Room

Remember that romper I purchased back in April?  The one I just HAD to have for the summer?

Well, it is now mid-July and I have yet to get the balls to wear it.  After discussing my love of this romper and my wimpiness about wearing it, I’ve decided to just go for it.  I think it took reassurance from some friends (and chatting with other fabulously chic romper-wearers) that I won’t look like a complete idiot.

This weekend is Artscape in Baltimore.  I love Artscape.   It is a very cool,  free festival showcasing local artists, crafters and musicians.  They usually have a few headliners performing.  On Saturday, Cake will be there (the band not the food, although I’m sure cake will be available somewhere).  I don’t remember the last time they had a hit so I hope their performance consists of my favorites and not a bunch of “new” stuff that people don’t really know.  I hate when musicians do that.  Just play the stuff I like.  Geez. 

And did I mention that there is funnel cake?  I’d go to the ends of the world for funnel cake.  And this time I’m talking about the food and not some new musical act.  Although that would be a brilliant band name.

Now back the point of this post…

I think I’ll wear my romper at Artscape.  My debut in my summer must-have outfit amongst the artsy fartsy bunch seems a bit more appropriate than the grocery store because how can I be looked down upon when there is an art car parade?

I originally purchased the black romper with a cute pair of black wedge sandals.

But then I saw these and fell in love:

The black wedge sandals are about 4 inches in height.  I’m already 5’8″.  I’d sort of feel like a giant Lolita. 

The shoes pictured above are flat… and cute (or hideous depending upon your taste). 

However, do I really need another pair of shoes?  I just threw out several pairs of Jeremy’s shoes so I could make room for MY shoes.

What to do.

I’m also on a mission to complete as many items on my 101 list that I can since my 1001 days are up in April. 

I managed to scrapbook ONE page of my wedding album yesterday.  I’ve decided that I’m not a great crafter and that what I really just need to do is glue pictures onto paper. 

I’m going golfing on my birthday.  Don’t laugh.  It is either going to go really well or it will end with Jeremy vowing to never go golfing with me again. 

I’m going to try to purchase a reasonably priced piece of art at Artscape.

That is 3 in one week.  Now does someone want to take me out in their helicopter?  Thanks.

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Excuses Excuses

Remember that Triathlon club I mentioned previously?  Yeah – well, I’ve totally slacked on the workouts.  I went 3 times total.  Each workout made me want to cry but each workout ended with me feeling like I had accomplished something great.

And then something happened.  I skipped a workout. 

In all fairness, I skipped the workout to spend time with my dogs.  I had taken the day off for a fun day of shopping and got home much later than anticipated.  My dogs needed some lovin’!

But that started me down the path of slackerdom. 

I skipped the Monday workout because I felt physically drained.  I couldn’t possibly work out feeling like crap, right?

I skipped the following Thursday workout because I just didn’t feel like going and I had to pack for Chicago (my flight was at 6am!).  I needed to spend quality time with Jeremy.  I mean, what if my plane crashed?!  We must cherish all of our moments with our loved ones, people.

This past Monday?  Totally skipped it.  I had a doctor’s appt at 4pm and felt too rushed when I got home.

There is a workout tonight and I’ll be honest… I want to skip it.  But do I have a good reason to skip?  Jeremy has taken a half day from work to go home and study for his final exam so I can’t use the dogs as a reason and I’m not doing anything after work (except to maybe watch Grey Gardens… jealous?)

Although…

I took a kickboxing class taught by a 25-year old fitness model/barbie doll.  My inner thighs and butt hurt so much that I actually wimper everytime I get up from my chair.  I’ve been walking around the office as though a baby is crowning from my vag.

Good enough reason to skip?  I need to give my body time to heal.

Ladies and gents – THIS is why I work out daily.  It is way too easy for me to get derailed if I haven’t made something a part of my normal routine.

Either that or I’m just getting really depressed about my birthday next week.  I really do feel old and it didn’t help to hear 25-year old fitness model state how depressed she was for being a “quarter of a century” old. 

I wanted to punch her.

Instead, however, I decided to try to keep up with her during her class (oh – she’s giving the higher intensity version?  F her – I can totally keep up.  Watch me jump squat, punch and kick). 

I think she may have won this battle.

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Indian Giver?

Sorry for the racial slur but I couldn’t think of a better title for this post since it is about potentially taking back an offer I had given.

Faithful readers, I need your opinion.  Here’s the scoop.

One of my 101 in 1001 items is to donate my wedding dress.  I never planned on preserving it or turning it into something different (I’ve heard everything from a christening gown to crib sheets).

I found a charity (Brides Against Breast Cancer) and thought it was a great organization (especially since my Grandmother passed away from Breast Cancer a few years ago).  I printed off all of the information and forms I’d need to fill out and then…

I didn’t do anything.

The dress has been hanging on a closet door for the last 2 years.  I did get a chance to wear it again for a Trash the Dress session so technically I took it off the closet door at least once in that 2 year timespan.  I’d also like to note that I’ve never had it cleaned (even after jumping in a water fountain). 

My good friend’s younger brother is getting married next year.  He and his fiancee are footing the bill for their wedding (and I can totally relate) so they’re trying to do everything on the cheap.

The fiancee is my height and approximately my build although I think she is probably thinner than I was at the time of my wedding.  So – I offered her my wedding dress.  I mentioned that I was planning on donating it and if she’s interested, she could come try it on and have it.

She’s coming over on Friday to try it on.

Now here’s the situation.  After telling this to my old roommate (and nicest person in the world) – she was astonished that I’d just give my dress to someone.  I told her about my tiny home and how Jeremy is getting more annoyed than ever that it’s been hanging around our house like a ghost.  But then she pointed out a very important factor. 

This dress was NOT cheap.  Now I’m not trying to get all, “I spent a lot of money on my dress” on you guys but I’m just telling the truth.  I had a few splurges with my wedding and the dress was one of them.  If I was planning on donating it to a recognized charity – I’d get a tax break.  If I give it to someone else, I won’t get that tax break.

Now my question is – how crappy would it be if I asked for my dress back?  I’d still let the fiancee wear it for her wedding but I would ask that she return it once she is done with it.

Crappy?  I’m getting some mixed responses but mostly in the, “it’s not crappy at all.  You are letting her wear your dress!” but Jeremy thinks it is a little crappy of me to ask for it back (although he did note that the tax break would be very helpful and needed).

What do you think?

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Difference in Support

I managed to convince Ian (Katie‘s husband and Jeremy’s old roommate) to register for the Philadelphia Marathon with me.  I wanted to have a friend that (1) hadn’t run a marathon before and (2) wasn’t some sort of all-star runner (no offense, Ian) sign up with me so that I would get that push that I needed to actually register.

Jeremy told me yesterday that aside from Katie coming to cheer Ian on for his first marathon, his parents are going to Philly AND Katie’s brother and new wife are also going to come for the big event.  That’s quite a support system and cheer squad.

Me?

I’ve got Jeremy.  I’m not complaining.  I don’t imagine it would be fun for anyone to sit around for 4-5 hours not watching me the whole time in the chilly weather.

Jeremy asked if his parents would be interested in coming to Philly.  Their response?

Philadelphia in November?  No thanks.” 

I had to laugh because that is totally MY mentality.

I told my mom about the marathon and she asked if I wanted her to attend.  I warned her that it would probably take between 4-5 hours for me to finish.  Her response?

Ugh!  No way.  I can’t sit around for that long.  I can’t even sit at a slot machine longer than 5 minutes.

I love you too, Mom.

The only person I expect to cheer me on is Jeremy.  I also expect him to make a giant sign and to sprinkle me with confetti after I cross the finish line.

However, if any of my friends are reading this and they’d like to come to Philadelphia for the weekend (Nov 21-22) – come on up (or down, depending on where you live).  Just come armed with a giant sign cheering me on.

Thanks.

**Update** Thanks to reader, Becky – I looked up tracking runners in the Philly race.  It looks like they offer something called F.U.N. Runner Tracking where people can view split times and finish times for their “favorite” (ahem – ME) runners.

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Getting in Touch with my Roots

One of my 101 items was to make a Korean dish.  I completely forgot about this item until Jeremy pointed out that I could cross a few things off.

I didn’t really plan this week’s meals very well since none of my CSA items matched up with what I was going to make.  So now I have a lot of random vegetables in my fridge.  And I’m going to Chicago.  And I know Jeremy won’t eat anything but pizza and chips while I’m away.  Would it be weird to pack them all as snacks for my plane ride?

Anywho – for those of you familiar with korean dishes, I made the oh so popular yachae mandoo (vegetarian dumplings).  I remembered helping my mom and aunt make these when I was a kid so I figured it wouldn’t be difficult.

Yeah, about that?

It’s not difficult per se, but it’s kind of labor intensive… and messy.  And when you’re trying to make other things to go along with said dumplings, it can lead to a mini emotional breakdown.  Just saying.


I hate using my bare hands to mix squishy things.  The mixture in yachae mandoo consists of tofu, onions, napa cabbage, bean sprouts, sweet potato noodles garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil and love.

Let me take a quick step back and chat about the trip to the asian market… the first trip I’ve ever taken sans mom so it was tough.  I think I looped the store 10 times to locate everything.  The good thing is that items such as napa cabbage (seriously – what the f?), bean sprouts and sweet potato noodles are all readily available at an asian grocery store.

So – mixing everything together was a snap.  Assembling it in the delicate mandoo wrappers was a pain in my ass.  The noodles were not chopped very well so they were to contain.  I was starving.  My hands were messy and the mixture was too watery since I didn’t drain anything before putting it together.

But the end result?  Delicious.

I also made some sauteed veggies with sesame oil and white rice (and by “I made” I really mean, “Jeremy made” because I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown).

Now I just need to expand my korean vocabulary beyond these words:
Hello
I Love You
Mom
Dad
Aunt
uncle
Grandmother
Thank You
Fat
Stupid
Son of a bitch
Let’s get out of here

While I think most of them are useful… it would probably make my mom really happy if I could actually string together a nice sentence or two.

**Update** As I was driving, I realized that there were a few more words that I know and I couldn’t rest without posting them.

Fart
Shit
Vagina

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