Lots of random things that could probably stand on their own but my short attention span and inability to write eloquent or witty posts has forced me to pull everything together in a single mangled entry fit for a hyperactive person.
1. I’m officially in the halfway point of my marathon training. I even said the phrase, “Oh – I only have to run 10 miles on Saturday” last week. Only ten miles. Holy shit – I never thought I’d see the day where 10 miles seems like an achievable and not painful thing to do.
This past Saturday was the Baltimore Marathon supported course run where a 20 mile and 10 mile course was mapped and set up with water/nutrition stops along the way. It was crazy hilly and some parts of the course ran through areas of the city that I generally see on the news (when someone is shot).
I had some knee pain starting on Wednesday after my 7 mile run. I thought that I probably needed new shoes but didn’t have an opportunity to pick up a pair Friday night before the 10 miler. I took precautions and iced my knee for a few days, took some ibuprofen and even wore my knee sleeve. I felt good through the run and realized at one point that my pace had increased about 30 seconds faster than my normal pace. I didn’t want to die. My legs weren’t exhausted. However, after 8.5 miles – I felt like someone punched me in the knee. I may have even whimpers. I ended up doing a walk/jog for the remaining mileage but still managed to complete the course 1 minute faster than my 10-miler race time in June.
2. Jeremy still annoys me with his endurance. He hasn’t run a long distance SINCE the Baltimore 10-miler in June due to some IT band issues but decided after lots of physical therapy that he’d give this run a shot. He still finished 20 minutes ahead of me, ran a more difficult course (he took a wrong turn and hit some steep hills towards the end) and felt that his run was “so slow”.
3. We ran the Fort McHenry Tunnel Run 5k on Sunday. I thought I’d keep pace with Meredith but holy crap – that girl is fast. My “keeping pace” with her meant that I’d trail her by 2 minutes. Oh well. I managed to average a 9:27 min/mile pace.
And running through a tunnel isn’t fun. It was hot as balls in there. Jeremy reported feeling claustrophobic about a mile into the tunnel. I didn’t feel claustrophic. In fact, the tunnel seemed much larger running through it than when I drive through it. I just couldn’t get over the stagnant, humid air.
4. The graduate school that I attend generally gets high marks for their IT program. They’re usually identified as a “hot school” or ranked pretty decently against other universities. This should make me feel good about being in the program, right? No, it doesn’t. I can’t get over the number of idiots in my classes. Or the number of pompous douchebags that just like to hear their own voices.
I gave a presentation last week on a study of incorporating “social search” technologies into basic search programs (like Google) and someone asked me how I thought this would impact stalking. Yes, you read that right. HOW DID I THINK THIS WOULD IMPACT STALKING? What.the.f. I looked at the guy, blinked a few times and then said, “um – well stalking is generally done alone. I don’t think people collaborate with their friends and colleagues to aid them in stalking. Sir – are you a stalker?” God, I hope not because if he is – I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up stabbed one day after class.
5. And last but not least I was asked the dreaded question yesterday by a co-worker. “Are you pregnant?” I gasped. My soul died a little. I am not pregnant. In fact, I’ve been running my ass off for the last 9 weeks. Am I pregnant?! Upon the look of horror on my face, the woman said, “You’re just normally so skinny. Your dress is just poufing a lot.” POUFING?!
The funny thing is (well as funny as being asked if you are with child when you are NOT) is the dress is actually the smallest size dress I own. When I tried it on and looked at the tag, I actually felt a moment of triumph. I did a happy dance. And now I view it as a maternity dress. Awe-some.
I should have taken a photo of me wearing it and posted it. It is not a babydoll dress or anything like that. Sweet Jesus – who asks that question? I thought we, as a society, were trained to never ask a woman that question unless you see the baby crowning out of her vag. Or if she is wearing a “bun in the oven” shirt.