Oops I Did It Again

I twisted my ankle on Thursday's 6-miler. At mile 5, I took a wrong step on Rice's path and almost went down. Fear shot through my body before the pain did, and in fact, the pain wasn't that bad. It twinged, but I was able to keep jogging slowly. The I kept it wrapped Thursday evening and all day today.

I went for a 10-miler this morning. Despite the bit of humidity, altogether the weather cooperated. My legs felt so heavy and full of dead weight, probably because I've run more miles in the past 7 days than I've run in a week since April. I realized that I overshot my distance, and since my achilles started pulling at mile 9, I old-man shuffled the remaining mile and then did a 1 mile cool-down.

Sunday: 10 miles
Tuesday: 6 miles
Thursday: 6 miles
Saturday/today: 11 miles
Total this week: 23 miles.
Total in the past 7 days: 33 miles.

I've been running maybe 15 miles a week (maximum), so the double in mileage is starting to take its toll a bit. Next week I'll be back down to 23-25 miles, but I won't have two long runs within 7 days.

Oh, and I finally finished "Crime and Punishment" this morning! It took me 7 weeks longer than I wanted, but I hadn't as much time as I wanted, and it's so heavy that I needed to put aside a significant chunk of time to do it, but could never find the time.

I have to go back to my classroom in a bit to get the next novel, "Cold Mountain." I'm really looking forward to that one. Hopefully I can knock that one out in 3 weeks, especially since I also need to read "The Grapes of Wrath" soon, too.

Later!

58 and Descending

Wow! The temperature was a near-perfect 58 degrees this morning. It wasn't totally dry, but the humidity was low enough to warrant a pleasurable experience. Sort of.

My legs still hurt from Sunday's run, so today was just a simple, slow maintenance run. I never got below 13:30, despite the cooler weather, but my legs were just being stubborn. I wished that today was Saturday or Sunday so that I could enjoy the day. We have no school on Monday, so if the temperature is similar, I will be spending a good portion of it outside.

On another note, two of my students are two of the children of the slain HPD officer, so I went to the viewing. As I've said before, I have a strong abhorration for funerals and viewings. I refrain from going to funerals as much as possible, for the sadness overwhelms any happy times. I don't need closure in those circumstances. I don't need to see a body in a casket to believe he/she is dead. None of my friends or family members are members of the CIA or any other secret agency (that I know of), therefore I have no reason to not believe that the dead are indeed dead.

Needless to say, I did not stay long, especially since my students weren't there. I signed the guest book, left a card for the kids, and walked out as soon as possible (I didn't know the officer, I was there for my students).

Now I'm going to go to Sugarland to spend time with the Sailor. And by spending time, I mean sitting next to him on the couch while he watches television and I catch up on my school reading (Edgar Allen Poe... just the kind of thing I need to be reading!). Sometimes I feel as though I'm in high school again, for I'm constantly reading the stories and novels my students are reading, leaving very little time for reading of my choice.

"Crime and Punishment" update: I'm in the homestretch - I have less than 100 pages left!

Next books, "Cold Mountain" and "The Grapes of Wrath." Luckily they are both much shorter and easier to read. I've been enjoying "C&P", but I'm having a hard time carving out a chunk of time for it, because that book is too difficult to read in snatches.

Cheers!

The Good Kind of Hershey

Yesterday was hot, miserable and stuffy. Instead of running, I went to the gym and then hung out with June. After a lunch at Central Market, we popped over to the theater and caught a showing of "The Black Dahlia." It wasn't what I thought it was going to be, but it was good nevertheless. If nothing else, the film keeps you guessing and shocked at some of the truly disturbed characters.

This morning, after a violent thunderstorm that brought a cold front, I decided to join June, Vic and Vic's friend Jo to a nice 10-miler at Terry Hershey Park. I've never run there, only manned a water station. I had a very enjoyable time. The run was completely on asphalt, the weather was cool and I actually had the chance to count live animals (instead of dead ones) as a deterrant during the run. I counted 5 squirrels and three large bunny rabits. The only thing that made me groan was the amount of hills! True, I spent a good deal this summer doing the Kenyan Nights hill training, but that ended two months ago and I've been on flat ground since. My legs are going to be in pain tomorrow, which doesn't usually happen after such a short jaunt. The hills, however, made me realize that I've grown a tad out of running shape since May.

Total miles: 10
Average pace: 13:30
Best mile: 13:04
Worst mile:15:04.
Level of fatigue: high
Most amusing moment: the amusement of Vic, upon the discovery that the front of his shirt had blood stains from the chafing of a certain delicate body part. June and I were slightly disturbed, Vic was amused for he feels that he is now a real runner.

Great run guys!

Cheers!

My Celeb Crush

Yes, I got to see my celeb crush again - and he was fantastic as usual on stage. The touring company sings a new song (instead of one of the ones on Broadway, and I'm not sure how I like that just yet), but overall the show was good. Not only was my celeb crush, Norbert Leo Buttz, in the touring company, but I saw one of the other characters on Broadway as well.

The Sailor went with me. He said he enjoyed it, but I have a feeling that I'll be seeing theatre shows solo from now on, again. Sigh.

Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman

Upon waking, I stepped into the pleasantly cool air outside and immediately ducked back inside. No, I did not re-set my alarm; I dressed in my running gear and hit the road. For a change of scenary, I opted to jog around Memorial Park (instead of my usual Rice). I stepped out of my car, jubilant with the promise of a fun run. I started my Garmin and away I went.

1 mile and 12:05 minutes later, I realized that fatigue was beginning to creep its way into my legs and settle in my quad/hamstring/thigh area. 1 more mile and 14 minutes later (I took a very long walk break in the pitiful attempt to rejuvinate my legs), I gave up altogether on the running and strolled the last mile to my car. Although my attempt at 6 miles was thwarted by the fatigue from yesterday's run, I remained positive; the weather was beautiful! Once the weather remains cooler, I'll build my pre-summer running schedule of 30 miles a week back into my legs, for now it is between 10 and 20. In the past 7 days, I've run 21 miles, which is by far the furthest I've run since the ankle sprain.

Tomorrow is a gym day, Friday is an off day, and Saturday is an 11-miler. I hope. Maybe I'll stop at 10. Who knows, it's not like I'm training for anything serious!

Cheers!

Taking Advantage of the Fluke

Wow! The weather this morning was glorious, and yet I almost missed it.

I knew the weather was to be cooler, yet I doubted the humidity would ease as well. When my alarm went off at 4:30am, I immediately reset it (as I do half the time), but didn't fall back asleep. I decided to step outside and if the weather really was nice, then I'd drag myself to Rice and run. If not, I'd go back to sleep (win-win situation in my mind).

I stepped outside and lo and behold - a cool breeze. I threw on some clothes, grabbed my gym bag and away I went.

Once at Rice, I started running, enjoying the feel of the nonhumid breeze against my cheek and bare arms. As I ran, I imagined myself flying through the dirt, feeling great because I wasn't sweating as much. Unfortunately, I was delirious because my Garmin said I was still doing 13 minute miles. Sheesh. Since I've been doing 14 minute miles during the summer, I should be happy with the 13 minute miles; God knows I'll probably be at a consistent 11 minute mile by the end of December, since I'm in a better place than I was this time last year.

Screwing my courage to the sticking point, I determined that my last mile would be my best. Indeed, it was. Not only did I manage to spit out two laps around Rice (adding on an extra mile that has become my usual since school began), but my last mile was a 12 minute mile.

I felt every step of that mile. I remember fondly being able to do an 11:15 minute mile last spring and being ok. Now, 12 gets me tired.

I know this cool weather will probably leave tomorrow, but I enjoyed it today.

Cheers!

PS - April got us tickets to an LSU home game next month! I get to go back to Death Valley!

So Sorry

I got another dig yesterday about not updating. Thanks, Andy, for reminding me.

I guess I haven't been keeping up with my posts because nothing exciting is going on. Let me subcatagorize it...

1) Work. Work has slurping my time away. Between meetings, preparations, essay grading (I'm still working on "Crime and Punishment", although now I have less than 100 pages left!), I am finding myself with little time to myself. In fact, I can't remember the last day in which I saw no one. I'm not going to have that again for a while. I honestly don't know how I survived last year as a first-year teacher and going to school at night.

2) Running. It's still freakin' hot and humid. I planned on 10 miles yesterday, but it's so hot and I figured, why bother? I'm not really training for anything. I therefore stopped at 8 miles. I figure I'll go 10 next week. When the weather gets better, I want to do a continuous 12-13 mile run on Saturdays. Presently, however, I am just pleased to be out there. Hopefully tomorrow I'll go 5 miles.


3) Social life. Yeah, I'm trying to have a social life. Sometimes, though, I'm just too tired.

I find myself getting very tired, with a low stress level, as of late. I know it has to do with work, but it doesn't necessarily help that I know from where it comes. I have to learn to re-adapt with work, and I just can't seem to remember how I did it last year. I am finding the hardest times doing the simple things in life I used to love: reading a good book, going to the movies, doing my nails. I'm having such a hard time with "Crime and Punishment" because I can't find the time. I haven't done my nails in 6 weeks. I haven't been to the movies since my birthday (I think). I did managed to wash my car today, which I've been meaning to do for months, and yesterday I did find time for fun. The Sailor and I went back to the range (he went ahead and bought himself the gun that I want to get for myself, so I got to shoot it to see if I like it or not. I do), and then on to one of my college buddies' house for part of the LSU game. We left early, however, to go to a high school football game, where I made an appearance and saw my kids and co-teachers.

Today, I graded for three hours and got very little done. My class levels still haven't balanced out and I'm so exhausted (mentally and physically) that when my conference period comes, I spend the first 15 minutes just trying to calm my nerves, which leaves very little time for productivity. I almost need a day off to catch up. Unfortunately, I am scheduled for a few professional development sessions this month, so I'll have to take the day off next week.

And with afterschool gradings and before school meetings, hopefully I'll catch up on my grading by next weekend. My students will just have to understand that grading 180 essays takes a long time.

But hey, only three days left before "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels!"

Dilligence

In the past 7 days, I've been to the gym 4 times to lift weights (plus the usual cardio). For the past year and a half, I've only been sporadically going, due to the constant endurance run training. I began to feel my muscles atrophy, which is completely unacceptable. So, I'm bulking back up. In a girly-way, of course.

Now, if only I could be more diligent about putting away clean laundry. Oh, well. At least my clothes are clean.

On another happy note... my tickets to "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" came in the mail today!!! Yes, I did buy tickets to the traveling company's performance at the Hobby Center, especially since Norbert Leo Butz is reprising his Tony-award winning character. I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I started dancing around the house when I opened the envelope. It's the funniest musical I've seen in a while and I'm ecstatic about going!

Ok, now I need to go to bed. I want to go running the morning. Of course, I might just wake up and reset my alarm. The humidity is still higher than I wish it to be.

Cheers!

"Where Were You?"- A Class Assignment

The World Trade Center Site, as seen from the observation area. July 23, 2006.

Twice a week, my students have journal topics, in which they must write at least one page in regards to the topic. At times, I also write an entry, because I believe in doing what I teach.

Today's topic was "Where were you when the planes hit the tower? What was your reaction? How, if at all, have you changed since then?"

Here's my journal entry:


There are few days in which I can remember what I wore, what I ate, what I was doing when a certain event unfolded. I remember being in the second grade when the Challenger exploded. I can tell you that I ate fried chicken the night my father went into his fatal asthmatic coma. I was watching "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" while lying down on the floor of my dorm room at LSU when Princess Diana was killed in a car crash. I was walking in the door of Starbucks in Baton Rouge when I heard that a plane had hit one of the WTC towers.

I awoke that Monday, September 11, 2001 at 5:30am. Not having to be at work until 8am, I woke early to exercise. I was 23, having just graduated from LSU the previous month. I was cast in the Baton Rouge Little Theatre's production of "Sweeny Todd" and was to go to the first rehearsal of the second week. I was still working as a shift supervisor at Starbucks, waiting for my lease to expire and for me to move on with my life.

I listened to the radio that morning, on the 10 minute ride to work. As the first plane was slamming into the first tower, I was getting out of my car, oblivious to the destruction a thousand miles away. I walked into the store at 7:50am, right as the word was being spread. As I walked into the backroom, apron in hand, I remember hearing one of our drive-thru customers telling us that a small biplane struck the WTC. I remember thinking, "Wow. That's odd." I didn't think much more of it until the customers kept telling us what was happening. One by one, we exchanged coffee and information. The plane was a jet. It went completely into the tower. It was an accident. Another jet flew into the neighboring tower. It wasn't an accident. The Pentagon is hit. The White House is being evacuated. Fear began to fill the store. We realized that America was under attack, and none of us knew who would become the next victims. My thoughts went to my friend April in DC, my friend Marylen in Manhattan, my mom in Houston. Refineries were in abundance in Houston and Baton Rouge, and they were being evacuated. We were next?

We heard everything, yet saw nothing. Ken, the manager, completed assembling the deposit and gave it to me. "Here," he said, "take it to the bank and run to your apartment for your television. Bring it back to the store and we'll watch the news as it happens." I got into my car and immediately turned on the radio. In the short time of taking the deposit to the bank, sitting in the car while the teller counted the money, and driving the 10 minutes to my apartment, rumor began to spread. A fourth plane went down, but authorities were uncertain of its relationship to the other planes. There was a report of a car bomb in the Washington Mall. The first tower falls. The plane in Pennsylvania was hijacked, and on its way to Washington but crashed in a field instead.

When I arrived at my apartment, I immediately turned on CNN. I knew I was to bring the tv right back to the store, but I wanted to see the pictures first. Those first horrifying pictures were made even worse when I saw the second tower fall. Soon, smoke filled the screen and people were fleeing the WTC site. Reporters were panicked and shocked. People were bloody, cursing, crying, falling. I tried to call my friends and family, but the phone lines were busy. I watched for another minute and went back to Starbucks.

Once back at Starbucks, we watched the news for hours. I tried to tape it, but left a movie in the VCR part of the tv, so recording wasn't possible. Customers ceased to come in. One by one, government buildings began to close. Schools closed. People were being sent home. Bush was rumored to be at the military base in Louisiana and all of us at work said, "Bush, go away!" We were certain he was a target and we didn't want him near us. At 1pm, we closed the store and were sent home. Rehearsals were cancelled. The news and radio were speaking of nothing but the horror and destruction of Manhattan, DC, and Pennsylvania.

I remember that I went to a video store, surprised they were open, but glad. I didn't want to watch the news anymore and needed something to occupy my time since rehearsals were cancelled. When I got home, however, I remained glued to the television. Later that evening, after a pizza dinner, my friend Laura came over and we watched the news together, both of us afraid and confused.

For the next couple of months, I watched as much CNN as I could. I read the NY Times everyday, becoming addicted to the local section, where they printed memoriums daily of victims. I felt as though I needed to read the stories of everyone killed.

I've changed since 9/11 in little ways. Now, whenever I fly, I send out my flight information and my "CSI" files for body identification should a tragedy ensue. I write it light-hearted, but with seriousness. Some of these people were identified thanks to hair left in their hairbrush at home, thanks to dental records, bone fragments. I let those close to me know how they can identify me, and to know what flight I am on.

When I am at the airport, I think of 9/11. I admit to watching people of Middle Eastern descent, paying attention to what they look like and what they're doing. I watch everyone, actually, for suspicious effort. I refuse to give an attitude to anyone at the airport, and don't complain when I get searched.

I no longer think we're invincible. We, as Americans, need to realize what people in other countries already know: no one is immune.

When I travel to NY I visit the WTC and give a moment of silence to those who died. I've been to the site three times and each time I read the timeline and I look out at the observatory.

When I travel to DC, I always watch for planes in the air.

I watch the 9/11 documentaries and films. I watch it to remind me of what could happen and to try to understand, for I don't understand. I don't understand how it happened. I don't understand how someone can take out their aggression on people they've never met. I don't understand how a person can kill innocent others and themselves and do it in the name of a deity. I don't understand how someone can celebrate the death and destruction of people who have never done them wrong. I've watched countless documentaries this past week, some even twice, because I still don't understand. I didn't understand that Evil exists. I do now.

Finally, every day I look outside my classroom window and wonder. I have a perfect view of downtown Houston and I can see every skyscraper clearly. I wonder how I would react should a plane crash into one of those buildings. Would I panic? Would I watch in awe? Could I be able to calm those students around me? How would I react?

I hope I never have to know.

My heart continues to go out to those whose lives were destroyed 5 years ago, destroyed by men who didn't know the victims personally, destroyed by men who didn't acknowledge that those murdered were important to someone, and whose lives were taken when trying to give life back to someone else.

A Very Busy Weekend

As I write this, I am still in DC, and memories are still fresh-ish in my head (I suffered from heat exhaustion during and after the half marathon, but hopefully I'll remember everything).

My trip to Washington DC/Virginia Beach began Friday. I planned on not checking a bag (since I had a 25 minute layover in Memphis and wasn't sure that my luggage was going to make it). My plans, however, were thwarted. I packed my rolling stick (in case of extreme muscle soreness) and discovered at the bag search that it's considered a "club-like" object, and is therefore prohibitted in carry-on luggage. Geez. So I had to go back and check my small suitcase (which meant I could've brought shampoo and lotion, etc., but whatever). I put my running shoes into my backpack and left the suitcase with the airline.

When I got back to the metal detector, I informed them that I had running shoes with me and that they did have gel in the heels (as the FAA website told me to do). They pulled me aside, took my shoes for inspection, patted me down, etc. Finally, I got my shoes back and went on my way.

While on the first leg of the journey, I looked at the Chronicle and discovered that Ernesto was headed right towards Virginia Beach and DC. Wonderful.

Once I landed in Memphis, I had 20 minutes to run from gate B1 to B30. I literally ran. I made it to the plane in time and off we went. When we got near DC, the weather was horrible and the turbulance was so bad that when I got off the plane, I immediately saught a receptical in which to vomit. Afterwards, I happily discovered that my luggage did make it (hurray!).

Once in DC, I met up with April and we walked all around DC to shop. We were shopping, however, in the middle of Ernesto. The temperature dropped quickly (I in my t-shirt and flip-flops was freezing!) and the rain and wind pelted us the whole evening. We went home, went to sleep.

Early yesterday morning we drove to VA Beach. 3 hours and a bit of rain later, we arrived. VA Beach looked relatively untouched by Ernesto (we discovered that Norfolk and other parts of VA Beach really got it, but our part was fine) and the weather was still awefully chilly. After going to the expo to get our race gear and shop at the expo (yay!), we walked the four blocks to the beach and just walked up and down the cold beach, quite aware of the thick clouds still on the horizon. We were looking forward to a nice, chilly run this morning (more on that later).

When we tired of the beach, we checked into our VIP Executive Suite at the Crown Plaza (there was a jacuzzi next to the bed!) and ran some errands (mostly for stuff for the Sailor, who was stationed there when he was in the Navy). VA Beach is home to the Naval Air Base, as well as a Navy Base, with a National Guard Base and an Air Force Base not that far away. My history side was very intrigued by this section of the country.

Anyway, on to today's race!

April and I arrived at the start early, and met up with Coach Bill and his wife Beverly, who are running all of the Elite Races to earn the "Rock Star" medal. While we waited for everything to begin, April and I were interviewed by a local tv news crew (fun!) and we got to see the wheelchair division begin (including Team Hoyt, which is so inspiring) and the Elite runners (wow).

When it was our time to line up, the weather was not as nice as we had originally hoped for. I was warm almost from the start. Our first mile was an 11:27, and it all went downhill from there (for me). At mile 3 I told April to go on ahead since I knew the heat was already getting to me and my left Achilles tendon started to tighten.

I was ok until around mile 6. I was actually contemplating quitting the race. I was that hot. There was NO shade and the sun was beating down on us (the temperature got up to 85 later in the day). By mile 9, I stopped running and just concentrated on not passing out. My Achilles became tighter and I was not a happy camper.

By mile 11, I was plain miserable and getting naseaus. April finished while I was almost to mile 12, and Beverly and Bill caught up with me soon after that so we speedwalked most of the rest of the way in. With .10 left, I started sprinting (as is my custom). When I finished, that's when the heat hit me hard. After gathering my gear, I became dizzy and wanted to vomit. I found a medical station, where they sat me down and gave me salt and water (while I listened to a man, cramping up, screaming as though he was being stabbed). The heat affected LOTS of people. I got up, walked a couple of feet, and sat down on the ground for 5 minutes or so. Bill, Beverly and April met up with me and we walked to the beach, where I promptly got into the cold water to cool off. 5 minutes later, I was feeling much better. Good enough to go back to the hotel, shower, drive back to the beach, eat and then walk on the beach some more.

Now we're back in DC. Both of us are extremely sunburnt (me more than her since I didn't use any sunscreen). My face hurts and I have the funkiest tan line on my legs - they're tanned between a sock line and where my capri pants ended mid-calf. Oh, and I, as usual, wrote my name in black marker on my arms. The sun burned/tanned my arms, except for my name. So my arms are darker, with a pale ERICA visible on each arm.

My overall time was 3:12, which is 20 minutes slower than I wanted. I'm not upset with myself at all because, considering the lack of training to to an injury 6 weeks ago and the extreme heat in Houston, I finished. This is just the first race of the season. There'll be more. And lots of running in the cool weather.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must put lotion on my painful face.

Cheers!