It Was Nothing

I meant to post this last week, I just didn't.

I did 5 miles last Wednesday. Just, you know, get home from work and run 5 miles. The end of the loop I ran was the beginning of the loops I was running back when I started this project 8 weeks ago. I couldn't help but be amazed by how far I've come. Eight weeks ago, I couldn't run 2 miles; Wednesday I ran 5. Nice.

Is That What I Think It Is?

On my last day of Spring Break (it was really my Easter Vacation day, but whatever), I decided to get some lunch. I had seen the Bar & Grill for awhile, but hadn't been by. But it looked like a decent-enough place, clean, plastic lines. You know, a Bar in a Box.

So I paid my taxes and spent money I didn't have on lunch. I ordered a burger and a Coke, took out my grading, and got to work. The burger came. I noticed the anaemic bun and the lack of mayo (grr!), but I was hungry so I started eating.



Wait a minute... does this burger taste like... a burger?

I opened up the lid to take a closer look at the patty. Check this out.



Yes, those are irregular edges you see on that patty. Do you know what irregular edges mean? It means someone's hands touched the burger. I know this connection between people and our food is supposed to gross us out. People do bad things, right? But the thing is, food tastes a whole lot worse (and carries just as much nasty buggies) when it only touches machines. We are far too disconnected from our food.

This burger was a hand-formed patty! No wonder it tasted like a burger and not a warm piece of cardboard. Mayo or no mayo, this is the best burger I've had since I left Durham. (Wimpy's Grill -- I've said it before and I'll say it again. Nothing beats a burger made from freshly ground beef. Nothing. Floofy buns or no floofy buns.) Sure, the man forgot the mayo. But he kept on foisting Coke on me (I do love my soda, too, especially while grading), didn't call me pet names, and wasn't overwhelmingly chipper and annoying. The fries were good, too. They weren't anything special, but they were hot, crispy, and lightly coated with a not-too-annoying seasoning.

This is how good the burger was.



And, they are a BAR & Grill, which means they shouldn't close at annoying times on me, like at 3pm on a Sunday. Yay bars!

Some Days Really Are Better Than Others

Some thugs were driving around town this morning, threatening our students. Some epithets were tossed out, a weapon or two was brandished, shots were fired. Fortunately, no one was injured. We were on alert all morning, however, as the police did their thing, and we will have heightened police presence around the school this week. I noticed over the weekend that I heard a lot more helicopters and saw far more cop cars than I usually do. I don't know if something is going on around here (big drug score or something?), but it's not too fun. Here's hoping it stays to a dull roar while Ma and Pa are in town next weekend.

Some Days Are Better Than Others

I went for a run today. I *finally* managed to find the elusive Fort Ord Dunes State Park. Heaven forbid you take 2nd to 8th over the overpass. No you take 2nd past 8th to something else with a teeny sign saying "Fort Ord Dunes State Park" right. Then you turn right again, then left, then right, THEN left across the overpass to the parking lot. What. Ever.

Anyway, I started running and I was just not feeling it. I don't know. Maybe it was some combination of heat (it was very warm today), low-level dehydration, not enough calories (I got a later start than I had intended due to all the driving around), built-up tiredness, and the 2/3 into the program blas. Whatever it was, although nothing felt horrible in isolation (my lungs weren't burning, no blisters, knees fine), I was just not there mentally. Well, my conscious mind said, "Keep going," but my body and my subconscious were saying, "Oh, just walk already." My body finally won out. I did walk, not stroll. And that means I did get some exercise and distance, but not what I should have done. Oh well. I am only me, after all. I never was/never will be a world-class runner. Hell, I'll never be anyone who is a contender in any race.

However, I did actually pay my money for the race this evening, so there's not going back. I am registered to run on May 17th. eep.

Walk On

Yesterday: 4.5 miles.

Today: crazy, intense gym teacher tells me that I'm looking much thinner.

Dodgeball, Dodgeball, Dodgeball!

Some of you might know about my stint as president of the Portland Co-ed Adult Dodgeball league. That first season I was president, our fearless founder did what she did best: complete the t-shirt order at the last minute and at great expense. What this meant in reality was that although everyone (that I know of) got their t-shirt, I also had a box of unused ones in my basement. I had them for a looong time. I gave a few of them away, but still had a bunch left over. When it came time to move, I refused to move all those t-shirts, so I gave more of them away. Then my roommate had a brilliant idea: turn them into a quilt. (I'm a bit ashamed I didn't think of it first.)

So, I *did* move all those t-shirts, but by then I was down to (only) 21 shirts. Yeah, only. 21 is a lot of shirts. They make for a nice 4x5 quilt, with one left over for a pillow. The pillow isn't done yet, but the quilt has just been finished. I didn't get my grading done over spring break, but I did make a whole quilt. Woo-hoo!

A few things to note: this is the first thing I've made with my new sewing machine. It is a pretty rocking machine. I managed to put the thing together with the absolute minimum of puckering, which is amazing considering I was working with jersey with screen printing on it. I credit the built-in walking foot on my machine. That's right, baby, built-in. It is so rad. I also used my super-cool 1/4" presser foot and my special quilting-foot. I don't know what's so special about the quilting foot, but that's what it's called, so I used it.





Please don't look to closely at the quilting, though. It's the first machine quilting I've ever done, and with the new machine and left-over thread (I was trying to use up a bunch of odds-n-ends I've got lying around), well -- the lines aren't perfect (I meant them to be wavy, but not so jaggedly so) and the tension isn't alway the best. I think it works, though. I do love it. And although I have it posed on the bed, it's really a sunggle-up-on-the-couch quilt. Just like snuggling up in your favorite t-shirt (that really needs to be washed a few more times so it gets nice and soft).

Overwhelming Tasks

I am constantly overwhelmed by the struggles faced by my students. They seem blithely unaware of their problems. If you cannot understand even slightly complicated vocabulary, then you can not understand the ideas expressed in them. I can not even begin to think about how time consuming it would be for them to look up evry word they do not know the meaning of. However, they also seem, by and large, to not have the coping skills to latch onto big ideas and work to underdstand those. Of course, without any understanding of the big ideas or the finer points, it is impossible for them to make that information their own. So they end up coupling ignorance with plagiarism. Maybe you veteran teachers are saying, "Well, duh!" right about now, but sometimes I need to be hit in the head with the brick to realize it.

Trust Me on the Sunscreen

Today: 8 miles (or maybe a little less). I started in a slightly different place than I planned on, but the trail also has more ins and outs than the highway version that I googlemap for mileage. So.

I must say, it's a lot harder to "finish strong" after 8 miles than after 4. I guess that means that I'm doing OK on running at my threshold of ability (or something).

I applied a lot more sunscreen today than I did last weekend, so I hope to avoid the extreme sun damage that I experienced the last time. While we're on the topic of protection: what is it with cyclists who don't wear helmets? For the love of God, people, they cost $20-$30 and can save you from brain damage in an accident. Sure, everyone looks like a penis-head in them, but EVERYONE looks like a penis-head. You are not alone in the looking-like-an-idiot department; it's more like a badge of honor. Sure, you're on a bike path, so what could happen? Well, you could get hit while crossing one of the many streets that no one stops at (yes, I saw you, you old couple with your 7-yr-old child teaching him to not obey all traffic signs while on a bike). You could get hit while riding on the stretch of path that is actual road (yes, I saw you large group of likely church people riding THE WRONG DIRECTION on the road). You could hit one of the many runners, walkers, old people, strollers (as in baby), kids, or other cyclists on this very busy bike path and crash. You could slip in the drifting sand while going too fast downhill. Anything could happen, and sometimes, anythign DOES happen. SO just wear a freaking helmet already. This is not 1971, people are not having unprotected sex with strangers while snorting coke and angel dust. We know better. Get a helmet.

This is from where I turned around looking back towards the beginning. The iPhone only has so good of a lens, though. I think I started somewhere an inch or two to the left of that shiny thing. I think.

Running on Empty

I had an interesting conversation with my friends last night (these are the winners of both the Most Likely To Be the First Friends To Visit Me in California and The First Friends To Visit Me in California awards) about the nature of running. The question was about how one views the sport of running. Is it a team sport of camaraderie and friendship or a competative sport of hunting off the next person ahead of you in the pack? I countered that running has always been a solo activity for me. While I could appreciate the (theoretical -- given my speed) camaraderie and the potential (again theoretical) competition, neither of those things ever motivated me. I was always in a race against myself.

This brings us back to another chicken/egg question: did my running make me a loner or did my lonerishness make my running?The whole conversation began because I was musing about the reason why I did not undertake an event until after I left Portland. In Portland, I have friends who do running things and there are many running things to do. Everyone, it seems, runs in Hood to Coast. There was the time Devo (yes, Devo) played at a Nike 10k race. There's the Beat the Burnside race, and those are only the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Portland is an drive town. So why now? My theory is that it is exactly because I *didn't* have anyone to run with.

Running with people might provide some conversation, but it also comes with pressure to run a certain route at a certain time and the pressure to keep a pace. I perform well under many kinds of pressure, but I don't court it in my fun time. I want to be able to succeed or fail on my own, without worrying about involving other peole in my almost certain embarassment. Of course, now that I have started running, it will be much easier to keep up with it, even if I do end up growing a circle of running friends.

All of this is to say that I ran 4.5 miles on Tuesday. I did not go out today, but I walk for a total of 40 minutes because my car was in the shop. I have it back, but it is still not fixed although the man seemed to think it was. I am not impressed.

Running to Stand Still

The silence on the blog was not because I was too tired from running to write. Oh, no. It was because I didn't run at all! *gasp* Not a particularly good thing, but I kept on finding myself out of pocket during the last week before spring break. I had things to clear up at work and prior engagements to attend to... so I was very, very bad. Very bad. Grades were due on Wednesday morning, so that destroyed Tuesday. On Wednesday I went out shopping with the girls because my pants don't fit anymore (not that shopping instead of running will keep me on this downward size trend). Thursday I had already made plans to get some drinks after work. I stayed out so late on Thursday that I was totally useless on Friday. That left Saturday, but I had scads of "yard work" to do. I have something that resembles a postage stamp of a yard, if it were cut in half and laid out in an L. And judging from my sore back and legs this morning, I did get some muscle work in from bending over to tear out all the crazy weed that had taken over.

Which brings us to today. I had already decided that I wanted to jump ahead and run an extra mile for this week's long run to make up for slacking off the prior week. And, I was determined to find the nice state park entrance so I didn't have to park in a crappy-ass neighborhood. Away I drove... and ran into a dead end. I had no choice but to keep on driving. I found myself at the other end of my proposed route, and in a fit of brilliance, I decided to run it backwards! Profound.

So, I ran. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there was only a small breeze. I ran in my new, recycled tank top (seriously, it's made from recycled plastic) and my super-cute skirt. I admit to walking a bit for the last mile, but all in all, I was very happy with my performance.

Now, however, I am less than thrilled. I am sore. My knees are achey and I have a sunburn around all the edges where I didn't put sunscreen. I neglected some of my arms and my hands, and it's impossible for me to get to all my back, so I find myself a bit warm now. So, as happy as I am with my performance, I am definitely up for a rest day tomorrow.

For tonight, I will ice my knees and finish off with the Wet Sock Treatment. And finally, I think I've made you wait long enough -- this is the Wet Sock Treatment. First, take thin, cotton socks and get them wet in cold water. Then, put them in the freezer for 5-10 minutes so they get REALLY cold. In the meantime, get ready for bed and place a pair of thick, wool socks near your bed. Take the socks from the freezer, climb into bed, and put the socks on your feet. Yes, put the freezing-cold socks on your feet. It's only hard to do the first 5-6 times, then it gets easy. Once you have freezing-cold socks on your now freezing feet, put the wool socks on on top of them. Then, sleep.

The way I hear it, it works like this. Your body can not make enough energy to dry the cotton (hence the phrase: cotton kills), but it tries. So the blood rushes to your feet, but then the wool (which insulates and will keep you from dying of hypothermia) kicks in and warms your feet and the blood leaves. But then your feet get cold again from the cotton, and the blood rushes back. So, this uninsulating/insulating play creates a "heartbeat" through your legs, drawing the blood through all that sore, damaged tissue in your knees and helping to heal it. Also, it sucks the blood from your brain, so you fall asleep faster. Or so my massage therapist friend tells me. In any case, I haven't found it to do any damage, and I generally feel better upon waking. Of course, it could just be time.

When I Die...

...I'll be a Tar Heel dead.

I was in a collaboration meeting today and I mentioned something about changes in racism in the South, North Carolina specifically. I guess I haven't mentioned anything about where I've lived before in that group. One of the other teachers perked up and asked when I lived in NC. I said I went to school at Chapel Hill -- so did he! He was class of '83; me: '98.

It was instant old home week: Pepper's Pizza, He's Not, the Carolina Coffee Shop. The other two teachers in the room were a little lost. They asked what a "Tar Heel" was, so I gave them the schpiel. My Colleague in Light Blue (CiLB) said he would make sure I got it right (of course I did). I also tossed out the tidbit about it being the oldest public university in the nation. I would have told them more (I love talking Carolina), but we did have to get back to work. After the meeting, the CiLB and I walked back to our rooms (he's across the breezeway from me) and talked basketball the whole way.

This is so sweet. We shouted "Go Heels" across the breezeway all day.