Category Archives: meme

Eight

I was tagged by Ingenious Rose to tell you eight random things about myself.  At first I was going to politely decline because it didn’t seem like the kind of thing I do here (whatever that is), but then I remembered I had once started an essay about things you don’t know about me, only it morphed into my confession about my lip balm addiction and so I decided what the heck, who can I embarrass but myself?  And so I pulled out my list of random facts about me, cut it all into little strips of paper, placed them all into wire bingo ball cage from my old bingo game, and gave it crank.

I pulled out eight slips of paper and then realized we had a slight problem.  They weren’t numbered one through eight at all.  They had numbers like 54 and 27 and 17 and 3.  So after giving it some thought, I decided to simply renumber them, rather like the Pennsylvania road exits. Because I recently visited Philadelphia, and noticed as we were driving there, that each exit had a number and then another old number, like so:  Exit 7 (old Exit 12).  So now each random thing about me has two numbers.  One old and one new.  I’ll put the new number 1st and the old number in parentheses and hope you don’t get lost trying to follow along.

1 (17)  I have beautiful white teeth.  I’d like to tell you it’s because of how my mother used to make my brother and I brush our teeth with Ajax powder right before we went to visit the dentist when we were young, but I don’t think that’s it.  Even though the dentist remarked to my mother how nice and clean our teeth were, I think he suspected the truth.  Certainly the hygienist wrote something about all the grit she was flossing out of our teeth before he looked into our mouths?  And he must have seen the scour lines, don’t you think?  At any rate, I’ve never had a cavity, not one.  And now that I’m adult, I bleach my teeth the proper way, with bleaching solution I buy from my dentist.  It’s not gritty at all.

2 (54)  I was in my mid-twenties before I realized that Mr. Rogers was the voice of all the characters who inhabited the Neighborhood of Make-Believe.  I have to say I count it as one of the biggest shocks and disappointments of my life.

3 (3)  My cell phone plays Flight of the Valkyrie when my husband calls me.  I programmed it that way because that is the Star Wars theme song, only my husband claims it’s not.  Even if he is right, which I suspect he is, don’t tell me.  I like to be the one who’s right.

4 (27)  I have stolen two things in my life.  One was a bookmark from a classmate when I was in the 3rd grade and in Catholic School, and the other was a rubber grape from a fake fruit display in a grocery store.  In my defense, I needed the bookmark because it was very cool, a painting of a dog on velum of some sort, and I needed the grape because I’d lost the rubber ball on my squirt ring and the grape was the perfect size to replace it.  I suspect I might be sent to Hell for these offenses.

5 (32)  When I was a Junior in high school I traveled to Europe where I spent two weeks seeing the sites of Italy and Greece.  And by sites I also mean sights and the cute boys there.  And I kissed one!  Outside, on an Italian street!  And my friends photographed this!  And when I came home, I went to pick up my photos with my boyfriend.  Only the girl who worked at the photo store had been on the trip with me and wanted to see my photos.  So we looked at them, my traveling companion, my boyfriend and I, and then we came upon the kissing photo…

6 (71) I have these tenuous connections to famous people: I attended middle school with Patrick Swayze’s cousin (or so she claimed); I once worked with Courtney Thorne-Smith’s sister-in-law; and I swiped a Coke can that Paul Newman was drinking out of at a car race in West Virginia, took it to school, and made a Coke can lamp out of it in shop class.

7 (11) As a child, I misunderstood the words to the Hail Mary prayer and forever wondered WHY they would put a curse word at the very start of a prayer.  I was in my late teens before I saw a written text of the prayer and everything made a lot more sense.  And if you’re not getting this one, the curse word is the place I’m going to in number 4 (27) above.

8 (69) I cannot whistle.  And that’s a crying shame because I have really big boobs.  I would whistle at myself in the mirror all the time if only I could.

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This is Me

This is me, before the start of marathon training season back about 3 months ago, talking to Kathy, the training coordinator for my running “club”:

“Kathy, I think I’m going to sign up to run with the group again this year.  But I am not going to show up for the speed test because I’m busy that day so just put me with one of the 9 to 10 minute per mile ½ marathon groups.  I don’t think I want to bother with the marathon this year since I’m still recovering from the injury I suffered last year on that 19 mile training run…”

This is me, again talking to the training coordinator, on the day I finally showed up and ran with the group for the first time this season, about 2 ½ months ago…

“Kathy, that group you put me with was too slow! I want to run with a faster group.  I know you said that “you can never run too slow on a long run” but that was painfully slow.  I could walk faster than that and,  In fact! I want to run the marathon now after all, so put me in a faster group and make sure it’s one that’s training for a marathon.”

This is me after running with the faster marathon group:

Pant, pant, pant… “Don’t you guys want to slow down some?  We still have a long way to go…”

This is me, talking to the coordinator AGAIN, about 1 month ago after one of the runs with the faster group in which I spent the entire run mentally cursing everyone for running too fast:

“Kathy, next week I think I want to try running with a slightly slower group.  My calves have been  cramping and my knee is hurting again so I’ve decided to give a slower a group a try, like you’ve been suggesting.  I know it won’t make any difference in how my legs are feeling but just to humor you, I’ll try it.”

This is me, reporting back to Kathy after running with the slower group:

“Kathy, guess what?!  My calves didn’t cramp and my knee didn’t hurt after that run.  I don’t really think it had anything to do with the slower pace.  It could be the fried chicken I had for dinner last night or possibly these new shorts, but just in case, I’ll stick with this group for the next couple of weeks, anyway…”

Note that I had to balance my plate of crow carefully so I wouldn’t drop it and be left with nothing to eat (because in case you didn’t know, you have to eat something to refuel immediately after a long run).

This is me after last Saturday’s run:

Ouch!  What is wrong with my calf?  It’s never hurt in THAT spot before.  This is somewhat troubling…  Ouch!  There goes my knee again.  What is up with me?!  Ouch!  My foot hurts too…

This is me last Monday, less than a week ago, after looking at the schedule for the run we were supposed to do today:

FIFTEEN MILES?!  I don’t feel like running 15 miles.  It’s too hot out!  My calf’s been hurting!  My knee is hurting again.  And my foot is hurting!  What’s up with my stupid body anyway?  Why am I doing this to myself? I am totally stressing out over this marathon. Maybe I won’t even bother to go running on Saturday. I have no motivation left for this anymore.  Aha!  And look at that, I won’t even be in town when the group runs 17 miles.  Well, I am NOT making up a 17 mile run by myself.  No way, no how!  I know…. I’ll drop back to the ½ marathon training group!  I only signed up for the marathon because I got all cocky last year and then I got hurt. I don’t even want to do it this year…

This is me at 4:07 a.m. this morning, a mere 8 minutes before my alarm was set to go off:

Wha?  Why am I awake?  I mean, I am AWAKE!  I was thinking of skipping today’s run if I was tired when the alarm went off, but I’m awake.  No way will I be able to fall back to sleep now.  I guess I’ll get dressed and at least show up.  Maybe I’ll turn around and go home after saying good morning to everyone and telling them I’m quitting.

This is Kathy, the training coordinator at 6:00 a.m. this morning as she panics because the ½ marathon group leaders aren’t there to lead their group.

“Okay, you, you, and you will start with Belle’s marathon group but TURN AROUND at mile marker 6 and come back here.  This parking lot is a ½ mile from the start, so if you run to 6 and turn around that will give you 11 miles today.  Don’t keep running with the marathon group or you’ll do 15 miles and you could injure yourselves!  Oh…”.  Sigh…Sigh… Wring hands together….  “Make sure you turn around.  At the 6 mile mark, okay?  Does anyone have a watch?  Do you know where you need to go?  Make sure you turn around…”

Me again, because Kathy is panicking and because I don’t want to run 15 miles anyway but I don’t really want to come out and admit that I’m stepping back down again because crow tastes pretty terrible:

“Kathy, I’ll turn around with the ½ marathoners and bring them back here!  You know, out of the goodness of my heart and all…”

This is Kathy:

“Oh, great!  That would be great!  You’ve done this before.  You’re familiar with the route.  That would be wonderful!  Thank you!  Okay, Belle will turn around with you guys so make sure you turn around at mile marker 6 and follow Belle.”

Important note:  The trail is flat and straight with woods on one side and a stream on the other side.  There are NO turns offs, no way to get confused and head off onto some errant path.  The ½ marathoners have run this trail many times, only not as far as mile 6.  Maybe, however, as far as mile 5 ½.  But apparently Kathy thinks they can’t find their way out of a paper bag back to the parking lot.

This is me this evening, after a couple of cans of Diet Coke, two Advils, and a long afternoon nap:

Whew!  That was great!  I ran 11 miles, and I feel fine!  I don’t have to suffer through excruciating long runs in this heat for the rest of the summer.  I can still walk without limping!  My foot doesn’t hurt.  My calves didn’t cramp.  My knee doesn’t hurt…  I wonder if I could have made it through 15 miles… 

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