So, I am officially registered for a 5k on March 1st and 1/2 Marathon on March 22nd. Guess it is time to get off the couch and stop blogging about hair and kitty condos and start running.
Yea?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
The Felicity Syndrome
I am totally, completely out of shape and what does it make me what to do?
Chop my hair off.
OK, let me backtrack here...
So, I started the month of February with wide-eyed optimism. I decided to join Mermaids again and get back on track with working out. We met the first Tuesday night in February for a track work out. She had us run a couple easy laps and gradually work up to a fast pace. It was tough, but I felt so good after the run. I was ready to attack my training season.
We also meet on Thursday mornings. At 6am. Yeah, seriously. But, I went to the first morning workout super proud of myself for making this commitment. After a couple of laps around the track we settled in to do our core torture (i.e. situps, pushups, and other excruciating trunk strengthening moves). We did one move holding hand weights and twisting our bodies so our hands touched our toes. Well, I guess my posture and form wasn't that great and the 3rd time I went down---SNAP! I threw my back out.
I am starting to feel my (almost) 32 years.
I spent the next two days icing my back on the couch and freaking out that I would be injured for life and never be able to do a triathlon agaon and will spend my days in a mumu watching The Price Is Right.
I can be a tad dramatic.
So, for the past two weeks I have been back to the lazy Jill I was in the off-season, trying to take it easy on my back. The problem with not working out is that it negatively affects my mood. Without those endorphins I am used to, I just feel blah...and like a blob.
It was last week when I was watching the Flight of the Conchords tand here was a music video with a girl who had hair similar to mine in a super cute cut. It planted a seed. I wanted that haircut.
I obsessed about it for the next couple of days. See, since September I have decided to grow my hair out. I go through this every couple of years, thinking I want long curly locks...all the while forgetting how long it takes to grow out. It is not that my hair grows slowly, it just grows TIGHT. If you pull a 1 inch curl straight, it almost doubles in length.
The problem with growing it out is there is inevitably an awkward period where my hair is all over the place. Right now it is in the "Weird Al" stage. Not a good look.
But the more I thought about when I chopped my hair off in the past, I made a realization. I was going through the Felicity Syndrome.
During the second season of Felicity (the beloved show on the now non-existent WB), the title character chopped off her curly locks after a major breakup with her soul mate Ben. I realized that I do the same thing--not because of a breakup, but more when something is off-kilter in my life. Changing my hair provides instant results. I was sluggish and not able to work out and craved something to get me out of my funk. Cutting my hair in a cute NEW style would be a change, So, more or less, not being able to workout and getting those mood boosting endorphins indirectly affects the length of my hair.
Luckily, my back is feeling better and I have ran twice this week. I have decided the hair will stay at this length. For now.
Now the question is---am I ready for a half marathon in less than a month?
Chop my hair off.
OK, let me backtrack here...
So, I started the month of February with wide-eyed optimism. I decided to join Mermaids again and get back on track with working out. We met the first Tuesday night in February for a track work out. She had us run a couple easy laps and gradually work up to a fast pace. It was tough, but I felt so good after the run. I was ready to attack my training season.
We also meet on Thursday mornings. At 6am. Yeah, seriously. But, I went to the first morning workout super proud of myself for making this commitment. After a couple of laps around the track we settled in to do our core torture (i.e. situps, pushups, and other excruciating trunk strengthening moves). We did one move holding hand weights and twisting our bodies so our hands touched our toes. Well, I guess my posture and form wasn't that great and the 3rd time I went down---SNAP! I threw my back out.
I am starting to feel my (almost) 32 years.
I spent the next two days icing my back on the couch and freaking out that I would be injured for life and never be able to do a triathlon agaon and will spend my days in a mumu watching The Price Is Right.
I can be a tad dramatic.
So, for the past two weeks I have been back to the lazy Jill I was in the off-season, trying to take it easy on my back. The problem with not working out is that it negatively affects my mood. Without those endorphins I am used to, I just feel blah...and like a blob.
It was last week when I was watching the Flight of the Conchords tand here was a music video with a girl who had hair similar to mine in a super cute cut. It planted a seed. I wanted that haircut.
I obsessed about it for the next couple of days. See, since September I have decided to grow my hair out. I go through this every couple of years, thinking I want long curly locks...all the while forgetting how long it takes to grow out. It is not that my hair grows slowly, it just grows TIGHT. If you pull a 1 inch curl straight, it almost doubles in length.
The problem with growing it out is there is inevitably an awkward period where my hair is all over the place. Right now it is in the "Weird Al" stage. Not a good look.
But the more I thought about when I chopped my hair off in the past, I made a realization. I was going through the Felicity Syndrome.
During the second season of Felicity (the beloved show on the now non-existent WB), the title character chopped off her curly locks after a major breakup with her soul mate Ben. I realized that I do the same thing--not because of a breakup, but more when something is off-kilter in my life. Changing my hair provides instant results. I was sluggish and not able to work out and craved something to get me out of my funk. Cutting my hair in a cute NEW style would be a change, So, more or less, not being able to workout and getting those mood boosting endorphins indirectly affects the length of my hair.
Luckily, my back is feeling better and I have ran twice this week. I have decided the hair will stay at this length. For now.
Now the question is---am I ready for a half marathon in less than a month?
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
In these tough economic times, can a girl still tri?
Let's get one thing clear---it kind of sucks right now. Every evening I drive home from work listening to KGO and it stressed me out. One huge company is making layoffs, a big percentage of people are underwater on their mortgages, the state budget is wack, consumer spending is down...where is the good news?
I am feeling the pennies being pinched as well---less than a year of home ownership under my belt in this crazy economy and now I have to look around to see what corners can be cut. Which means, limiting trips to Banana Republic and Ann Taylor Loft and trying to ween myself off of Pureology's hair crack, I mean conditioner. I even asked hubby if he would consider coloring my hair from now on.
"I mean," I said, "It costs me like 90 bucks to highlight it every 6 weeks (though admittedly I push it to the max 9-10 weeks until I feel totally root-y tutti and the natural brown is at odds with the blond streaks). Plus, I am sure you can find out how to do it on-line and you are such a perfectionist it would come out amazing. I mean, look at the kitty condo."
Operation Kitty Condo is a shining example of how my husband doesn't do anything half-a**ed. We wanted to get a kitty, but he is allergic to cats and with a one bedroom one bath town home, there isn't really room for a cat to escape or have a litter box area. Thus, Operation Kitty Condo (OKC) was born. For much of December and January hubby (with help from his father) built an enclosed platform in the garage that a kitty could access from a kitty door in the kitchen. The platform is large enough to hold a litter box, kitty bed, food water and other accoutrements. Plus, the lattice enclosure lets the kitty have air, but not free reign of the garage (read: get footprints all over hubby's boxster or take naps in clean laundry I was too lazy to take upstairs). OKC also included installing a new (fire safe) garage door, and installing doors at the bottom of the stairs so kitty will not have access to the upstairs which will be a kitty-free zone for allergy-prone hubby to seek refuge. OKC was a major operation that took over our living room and had so many trip to Home Depot that it is now worth more than the blue book value of my busted up 94 Nissan Sentra.
It is actually a pretty amazing thing that hubby built, and his attention to detail secretly makes me hope he never gets into triathloning. For me, Triathlon is an obvious sport of choice because I can do lots of things at once and not burn myself out on the boredom of one sport. For hubby, I thnk he would go overboard with learning about each sport (cadence, swim drills, tempo runs, fartleks, tapering, hydrating) and it would be too much to handle. This is also why he doesn't get into wine, otherwise he would probably start building a wine cellar on our patio.
So, where was I? Oh yeah, homemade highlights. So, hubby mulled over the "highlighting his wife at home" idea.
"I bet it isn't that hard and I can probably buy on-line the chemicals they use in the salon."
"Yeah, and then you can learn how to, like, wax my eyebrows."
I pretty much lost him after that suggestion. I guess the idea of violently ripping hair off my face does not appeal to him. Oh well.
So, I will keep the buying cute tops to a bare minimum and continue my salon visits. Man, I couldn't imagine it if I was a high-maintainance girl who required regular pore extractions and manicures. The only reasons I pedicure is to have someone else cut my toenails and slough off my running-induced callouses.
But, the real question is: in these tough economic times, can a girl still tri?
Triathlons are a ridiculously expensive sport. With running you just need shoes. Swimming you need a cap, goggles and suit. Cycling you need bike, helmet, gloves, hideous padded shorts, and cycling shoes. Throw the three sports together and toss in energy bars and race entry fees that range from 60-300 bucks, and you've got yourself a sport that seems blatantly at odds with the financial crisis of 2009.
But, my salon visits and triathlons are things I will not compromise in these times. I won't race as many races as I did last year, but I think that the benefits of the tri far outweigh the negatives. In times like this when everything is upsidedown and uncertain, it is refreshing to have a goal that is constant. You sign up for a race and spend your free time training for it. The race happens and you go on to your next race. It is riculously logical, but challenging enough to not be boring.
I found triathlons when I was in a fragile state: I was a manager in a mortgage company experiencing the most gruesome part of the subprime meltdown of 2007. Rates were constantly going up as loan amounts went down and brokers were pledging their undying hatred of me. As a manager of account managers, I was the one brokers asked to talk to so they could blame someone for their customer's rate soaring to 13% after one unfortunate rate hike. Mind you, I wasn't the one who made the rates go up, but I was the last person in the office a broker had to go through to complain about how much our company sucked. Our office closed about a month after that time.
I found and loved triathlons because it was such a refreshing contrast to the greedy, slick and hasty mortgage industry. It was something totally selfish to do: concentrate my time and efforts to finish a race I had no dreams or delusions of winning.
Every single race I have done has taught me something. My first triathlon taught me what the sport is all about. When I did the LA Triathlon I was amazed that I could swim almost a mile in the ocean without having a Jaws-induced panick attack. Barb's triathlon taught me that failing at something you work hard at is always a possibility. Finishing the Big Kahuna two months later made me realize that failing once doesn't mean you give up forever.
In these uncertain times, everyone needs something like a triathlon to keep them grounded, hopepful, and less jaded in this world that seems to be in a constant state of suck. What can I say? Endorphins are my therapy.
I am feeling the pennies being pinched as well---less than a year of home ownership under my belt in this crazy economy and now I have to look around to see what corners can be cut. Which means, limiting trips to Banana Republic and Ann Taylor Loft and trying to ween myself off of Pureology's hair crack, I mean conditioner. I even asked hubby if he would consider coloring my hair from now on.
"I mean," I said, "It costs me like 90 bucks to highlight it every 6 weeks (though admittedly I push it to the max 9-10 weeks until I feel totally root-y tutti and the natural brown is at odds with the blond streaks). Plus, I am sure you can find out how to do it on-line and you are such a perfectionist it would come out amazing. I mean, look at the kitty condo."
Operation Kitty Condo is a shining example of how my husband doesn't do anything half-a**ed. We wanted to get a kitty, but he is allergic to cats and with a one bedroom one bath town home, there isn't really room for a cat to escape or have a litter box area. Thus, Operation Kitty Condo (OKC) was born. For much of December and January hubby (with help from his father) built an enclosed platform in the garage that a kitty could access from a kitty door in the kitchen. The platform is large enough to hold a litter box, kitty bed, food water and other accoutrements. Plus, the lattice enclosure lets the kitty have air, but not free reign of the garage (read: get footprints all over hubby's boxster or take naps in clean laundry I was too lazy to take upstairs). OKC also included installing a new (fire safe) garage door, and installing doors at the bottom of the stairs so kitty will not have access to the upstairs which will be a kitty-free zone for allergy-prone hubby to seek refuge. OKC was a major operation that took over our living room and had so many trip to Home Depot that it is now worth more than the blue book value of my busted up 94 Nissan Sentra.
It is actually a pretty amazing thing that hubby built, and his attention to detail secretly makes me hope he never gets into triathloning. For me, Triathlon is an obvious sport of choice because I can do lots of things at once and not burn myself out on the boredom of one sport. For hubby, I thnk he would go overboard with learning about each sport (cadence, swim drills, tempo runs, fartleks, tapering, hydrating) and it would be too much to handle. This is also why he doesn't get into wine, otherwise he would probably start building a wine cellar on our patio.
So, where was I? Oh yeah, homemade highlights. So, hubby mulled over the "highlighting his wife at home" idea.
"I bet it isn't that hard and I can probably buy on-line the chemicals they use in the salon."
"Yeah, and then you can learn how to, like, wax my eyebrows."
I pretty much lost him after that suggestion. I guess the idea of violently ripping hair off my face does not appeal to him. Oh well.
So, I will keep the buying cute tops to a bare minimum and continue my salon visits. Man, I couldn't imagine it if I was a high-maintainance girl who required regular pore extractions and manicures. The only reasons I pedicure is to have someone else cut my toenails and slough off my running-induced callouses.
But, the real question is: in these tough economic times, can a girl still tri?
Triathlons are a ridiculously expensive sport. With running you just need shoes. Swimming you need a cap, goggles and suit. Cycling you need bike, helmet, gloves, hideous padded shorts, and cycling shoes. Throw the three sports together and toss in energy bars and race entry fees that range from 60-300 bucks, and you've got yourself a sport that seems blatantly at odds with the financial crisis of 2009.
But, my salon visits and triathlons are things I will not compromise in these times. I won't race as many races as I did last year, but I think that the benefits of the tri far outweigh the negatives. In times like this when everything is upsidedown and uncertain, it is refreshing to have a goal that is constant. You sign up for a race and spend your free time training for it. The race happens and you go on to your next race. It is riculously logical, but challenging enough to not be boring.
I found triathlons when I was in a fragile state: I was a manager in a mortgage company experiencing the most gruesome part of the subprime meltdown of 2007. Rates were constantly going up as loan amounts went down and brokers were pledging their undying hatred of me. As a manager of account managers, I was the one brokers asked to talk to so they could blame someone for their customer's rate soaring to 13% after one unfortunate rate hike. Mind you, I wasn't the one who made the rates go up, but I was the last person in the office a broker had to go through to complain about how much our company sucked. Our office closed about a month after that time.
I found and loved triathlons because it was such a refreshing contrast to the greedy, slick and hasty mortgage industry. It was something totally selfish to do: concentrate my time and efforts to finish a race I had no dreams or delusions of winning.
Every single race I have done has taught me something. My first triathlon taught me what the sport is all about. When I did the LA Triathlon I was amazed that I could swim almost a mile in the ocean without having a Jaws-induced panick attack. Barb's triathlon taught me that failing at something you work hard at is always a possibility. Finishing the Big Kahuna two months later made me realize that failing once doesn't mean you give up forever.
In these uncertain times, everyone needs something like a triathlon to keep them grounded, hopepful, and less jaded in this world that seems to be in a constant state of suck. What can I say? Endorphins are my therapy.
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