Move that Bloomin' Aaaas

The last two days I have found it difficult to exercise. I wanted to run outside last night even though it was cold. By the time I was free from family obligations, it seemed too dark. I opted to do the Firm's Super Cardio. I don't know if I was having a bad day, perhaps it was all the digusting chps and salsa I ate for lunch and dinner. I had trouble getting into it, trouble moving, trouble keeping up, and trouble sticking with it. After 40 minutes, I had enough and turned it off. I was sleepy and tired. The chips and salsa had been fermenting in my stomach and were like a witches couldron, boiling and bubbling. I felt really sick. It bothered me all night. I resolved to get up at 5:45 a.m. and do some strength training.
I didn't manage to get up early though. I was just too tired this morning. Went to court and while there decided I would run at lunch time. I did well with it, although I really, really, had to push myself. It was cool and quite windy. I ran into the wind and it made my ears scream in pain. My ears are quite sensitive to cold and wind. I ran for some time with my fingers in my ears, I imagine that looked funny. The place I ran is a corporately created natural wildlife habitat, it's very nice. There is a trail which meanders through the woods, around a lake, through wild flowers, it's 8/10 of a mile. I went around it 8 times, ran 5, walked 3. It's pretty amatuerish stuff but the point is that I persisted; I wanted to walk the whole way. I am glad I did it and I feel good now, sitting at my desk at work.

I'm a chameleon, always changing. I fit in everywhere and nowhere. 

ADVENTURE RACING

Traveled to Louisville and Frankfort for business. While in Louisville I met prospective team mates for adventure racing. Harry and Jon met me for brunch. Harry is a lean, mean runner, competing in many races. Jon is a rugby and football player. Both men are strong and very open to the adventure racing idea. We agreed that our first adventure race would be Cave Run Lake, September. We will find out what sports are involved and sign up. We decided that we will begin training immediately and try to train together at least every two weeks. Taking the idea to heart, I stopped at Carter Caves State Resort Park on my way back from Frankfort. I decided that I should do a trail run, time to begin. The park was nearly deserted although it was a lovely evening. I donned running pants and my athletic shoes (not made for trail running). I had a high tech work out top but it was short sleeved, I had a wierd silver body suit in the car (something my mother had discarded) so I put it on under the short sleeved shirt. It worked out really well and kept me just the right temperature. I ran on the 3 bridges trail which is about 3 1/2 miles. It was very, very quiet along the trail. This was probably the first time I had ever run along a perfectly good hiking trail; seemed strange to be running on it. I really enjoyed it, it was peaceful and I seemed to negotiate the hills, rocks and obstacles fairly well. I only encountered two people, a couple hiking together at Fern Bridge. All they said to me was "watch out, don't slip". I said "I won't" and I continued on. I stopped at the lodge for a drink at the water fountain and a bathroom break. Chatted with the staff. Returned to my car around 7:30 and headed home.

My first trail run, documented. I took a picture of myself at the lodge, only to document the goofy outfit. This body suit worked amazingly well but wasn't made for running. 

It's Sunday Morning

Good morning blog visitors. Heading out to cave country, Louisville and Frankfort. Sometimes work gets in the way of our play; sorta makes the "work hard, play hard" motto difficult.

I've decided to try a new endeavor and that is adventure racing. Have I ever tried it? No. I am going to though. I will keep the blog up to date with my training and racing activities. My first task is to find racing partners, I think. It appears that many of the races require teams of 3. I have a couple of prospects. It seems exciting and a great vehicle for stretching my fitness level. I am getting bored with my workouts.

When I told my husband about my idea to begin adventure racing, he looked at me and shrugged. When I told my father, he said "that's wonderful, sounds like you". My mother said "Oh My God, Lisa, No!". Others either ask, "what is adventure racing?", or "are you crazy?".

So, a new chapter in my life is hopefully beginning. I hope this old body holds out. Until later....

The Rose

Last month, my friend Maddy received a stressful phone call from her daughter's school counselor. Her daughter Sierra, age 10, had approached the school counselor and told her there was something very important she needed to discuss. Sierra wanted the school counselor, Mrs. Gonnigan, to arrange a meeting with Sierra, Mrs. Gonnigan and Maddy. Sierra said there were some important issues she needed to confront her mother about. Mrs. Gonnigan was worried. What could it be? Neglect, sexual abuse, starvation, foul language, corporal punishment?

Mrs. Gonnigan stressed over how she would approach Maddy for the meeting. She imagined that Sierra would be upset. She imagined that Sierra would hurl accusations at her mother and her mother would break down and apologize or would become angry that Sierra had aired dirty laundry. She imagined that Maddy could end up filing complaints, removing her daughter from the school, or that Mrs. Gonnigan would be forced to make a social services report.

Mrs. Gonnigan finally arranged the meeting. Maddy arrived and the two women retrieved Sierra from her class room. Mrs. Gonnigan said, Sierra, "do you remember what you want to talk about"? Sierra's voice quivered as she answered "yes, I have it all planned out". As she said this she took out index cards, upon which she had written notes for her speech.

The three went into a conference room. Sierra was so nervous, she chose to stand rather than sit. Mrs. Gonnigan asked her if she was ready and if she needed anything. Sierra wanted a dry erase board; when one couldn't be found she pressed on. She prepared her note cards, cleared her throat and began to speak. Mrs. Gonnigan said "it's okay Sierra, go ahead". "Okay" said Sierra. "Here's the deal, mom, you promised me a dog and we never got one. I want a dog". "And?", asked Mrs. Gonnigan. Sierra replied "that's all".

Maddy was flabbergasted that this whole meeting had been arranged, the two women had been manipulated so that her ten year old could make an animal demand. After thinking it over and talked to Sierra at home, the two compromised. They bought a hamster and named it Rose.

Theme song lyrics - The Rose

Some say love, it is a canine

That pounces down the street

Some say love it is a feline

whose litter box you clean

Some say love it is a hamster

an endless daily feed

I say love it is a child's pet

but for you it's never free

It's the mom afraid of stinking

who prefers the kids have plants

It's the dad afraid of termites who never buys the ants

It's the one who'll be forsaking

who cannot seem to give

on the whole afraid of failing, so never lets the kid

When their room has been too lonely

and the've wanted all along

and you think their want is only

for a cat, a snake or dog

Just remember in the winter when the kid is stuck inside

that the pet store

has a gray hamster

and your kid

will name it Rose.

My leather pants - one of the best bargains ever! 

The Way I Feel

8 SONGS WHICH REFLECT THE WAY I FEEL TODAY

1. Born to be Wild

2. That's What Friends are For

3. Take it Easy on Me

4. F--- the pain away - peaches

5. I put a spell on you

6. Man! I feel like a woman

7. Snowblind

8. Feelin' Groovy

Others write about serenity

Perhaps the best thing of all for me is to remember that my serenity is inversely proportional to my expectations. The higher my expectations of others, the lower is my serenity. I can watch my serenity level rise when I discard my expectations. But then my rights try to move in, and they, too, can force my serenity level down. I have to discard my rights, as well as my expectations, by asking myself, "How important is it really? How important is it compared to my serenity, my emotional sobriety?" When I place more value on my serenity and sobriety than on anything else, I can maintain them at a higher level - at least for the time being.
Acceptance is the key to my relationships today...

Borrowed from http://internetbrothers.com/lc07oct00.htm which was amazingly like my own attempted philosophy. I thought I had coined the phrase "serenity level".

Caves, rocks, mud, grass, trees, stones, dirt, sun, smell of pine, the feel of the earth beneath my feet and hands - these are the things I need to refill my serenity level. The level is dangerously low right now. It's not as if these things are in short supply; they are quite abundant. I must go out and collect them, hold them close to my heart and soul, breathe them in, roll in them.

At this time in my life, crazy as it is, there are a few other items which occasionally act as a temporary stopper, preventing the serenity from ebbing through my grasp. Distance, life circumstances, and perhaps even disinterest prevent these items from ever truly damming the outward flow.

Tiny hugs, Gold N Crackle, my new weight lifting gloves and 20 pound dumbbells are only temporary fixes.

Time to stop lamenting that which can not be changed. Time to move on, face the music, round the bend and walk the road not taken.

Talk about nonsensical ambiguous garbage.

In the car.  

Playing around with my camera phone.  

I've Gotta Be Me!!!!

Nearly every phrase uttered by an individual reminds me of a song. I can't control my impulse to belt out the tune when the spoken phrase rings a bell. I've just gotta be me. I can't control the impulse to sing. It drives my sister crazy.

The "me" of "Me" is screaming, a very vocal "I am getting older and I am not happy about it". It's as if my persona is afraid that I will miss out on something, some excitement, some adventure because I am aging. Yesterday, I did fairly stringent aerobics with fairly heavy weights for an hour and then ab work for 1/2 hour. The weights seemed heavy anyway when I did militaries and triceps with 10 pounds. After I was finished, 90 minutes later, I was tired but still worried that I had not exercised enough. So, I put my 27 pound little daughter on my back and went for an hour's walk, climbing and descending all the hills I could find. I still felt unsatisfied.

I need a project.

I need to go caving more and try other sports too.

The other day before Court, see, I am silent. 

Am I argumentative?

I spent the weekend in Illinois, enjoying the company of my sister and brother in law, Ricardo. Ricardo and I must have had 10 arguments regarding everything from "how to clean snow leopard paws" through cognac making, splinter possibilities, creepy creatures from the deep black sea, Illinois child custody law, and bun purchases.

It left me wondering, am I argumentative? Hey, for those who are nodding heads in a vertical fashion - I AM NOT! No, no, I don't care what you say, I am not. Doesn't one's employment tendencies carry in to every day life? After all, I am a professional word boxer.

Ricardo is a businessman but he is one of the wordiest gentlemen I know. I don't think it's as much his need to win an argument as his need to hear himself keep talking.

Regarding talking, I have in recent months regarded many talkative individuals. Are those particular individuals people who simple articulate every thought that comes marching through the extruder? Has an entire booger conversation been censored and given approval by an intellecutual MBA holder or were the really goofy thoughts weeded out at all? What about an outdoorsey type who can barely stand to hear the outdoors because of words that tumble out of the mouth?

Where does the true line lie between the talkative and quiet. I think the line lies with me; I am talkative when needed and silent when appropriate. For those who disagree, post a comment and we'll see who's right.

Have a good week bloggers and post a comment.

What did my mailbox do to you?

During the night, some crazy thugs beat my mailbox to a pulp. Who would do such a thing? What did my mailbox do to you? It was just sitting there passively, mouth open, awaiting it's next feeding. Mailboxes don't trespass, they don't over consume, they don't curse, they don't consume alcohol. They just sit there and await receipt of the next delivery from the U.S. Postal Service. Now, sometimes the mouths of said boxes contain foul material, pieces of paper demanding large sums of money, threats from the IRS, hate letters from friends and foe. Don't blame it on the messenger. And, hey, dude, if you beat up my mailbox just to get to me, it ain't working! Paws off my mailbox. I will put it back up but the next time you get a craving to destroy something so innocuous, think twice. Revenge will be mine!!! I have erected a video camera to catch you and all penalties, both criminal and civil will be levied.