Monday -/+

I will confess that I am feeling a little blue lately and in fact am finding it all too easy to snap at people, be generally rude, and spend the entire day sulking in bed and/or having Imagination Arguments with any and everyone. (Please tell me you do that, too, sometimes?) It’s not pleasant. There’s nothing specific going on to bother me or cause me to feel bad. Mainly I have just been having more pronounced hormonal ups and downs lately (nothing’s wrong, just adjusting to a med change) and this week is in fact A Very Special Time for Ladies, so it seems even worse at the moment.

I’ve been coping by: consuming alcohol, lying in bed all day reading, going on walks, runs, or bike rides in the sunshine every day, and trying to eat well. I’m not sure alcohol is traditionally recommended in such situations, but let’s pretend that it is. Hush.

As a further coping mechanism, I am going to steal an idea I originally got from Chrissy: plusses and minuses. I am going to create here two lists. One will be a therapeutically purging list of some little things that are annoying me or stressing me out (just the bloggable ones) and the other will be a list of things that are good, positive, happy, exciting, or just generally pleasant in my life:

First, please bear with me through THE MINUSES:

- I’m not working again until July and therefore am not getting paid again until July. No matter how carefully I plan ahead for summers and how much I save, this will never not be stressful. No, there is not an option to have our salaries paid out over 12 months.

- I have some kind of dark sun/aging spot appearing on my forehead where I part my hair and it’s making me feel old and/or like I have skin cancer and am probably dying. Right in the middle of this spot? A huge zit.

- My BF is super busy with work at the moment (and I am not) so I miss him, but I don’t want to act all needy about it.

- Physically, I feel kind of slow, awkward, chubby, and sluggish lately. I’m about 5-8 lbs over my usually happy weight, which is not enough to make a difference, really, so it seems more mental than anything else. See also: Special Ladies’ Time.

- I generally want to have my patio doors open at this time of year. but my dog thinks it’s his job to bark at every passing car, bike, dog, squirrel, or lawnmower unless I keep them closed.

- [Redacted]

Okay, let’s cancel those out with THE PLUSSES:

+ I am not working again until July, which means my days are my own right now. Of course, I’ll still be working (unofficially/unpaid) to prep for my summer class, but it’s a detective fiction class, so this means I get to read fun books. I also get to sleep in as late as I want, work out whenever I like, and not wear pants if I don’t want to.

Going in to the office during summer break isn't so bad when you have a stack of library books awaiting you..Just a few books for my summer class!

+ I’ve been on a leisure reading kick lately and have been devouring new novels. This has also even fed into the class I’m planning a bit — I got obsessed with Gillian Flynn after reading Gone, Girl, read both her other novels, and then decided to put Sharp Objects on the syllabus for this summer. I’ll do a reading round-up post soon with details on the other things I’ve been reading and enjoying.

Scene from today's walk.

+ I have acquired a fitbit (fitness tracker/pedometer thing), which has been helping me see how active (or inactive) I am on a day-by-day basis, and is encouraging me to be more active, take more walks, and so on. The photo above is one of my favorite places to pass by in my neighborhood — who can argue with this scenery? The fitbit is also helping me more accurately match up my nutrition needs to my actual intake. And it’s fun. (If you’re on fitbit and want to be my friend, leave me your email address!)

+ I have been biking to campus every now and then and am loving it! Almost ten miles round trip and it feels great. My new bike is just fun to ride — so much more comfortable than my old one, and it feels faster, too.

Yayyyy @brunbec123 and @deebeecooper

+ I spent some good times with friends this weekend. My friend D. was visiting from out of town, and I also co-hosted a baby shower for my friend S (due very soon) with a couple of other friends. The above picture is me, D., and B. out having dinner and drinks.

Magic Hat Pistil

+ I’m sitting on the patio right now, soaking up some sun and fresh air, and drinking a Magic Hat Pistil.

Mission:PT Day 8

+ I’ve joined in the fashion challenge Mission: Put Together (run by RA) and have been posting my outfits to the flickr pool every day. Above is one of my recent favorites. It’s fun, and the other ladies are champs at leaving nice, supportive, encouraging comments. This might be one of the only things actually keeping me from working from home in my underpants every day since finals were over.

+ In two months, CW and I will be moving in together. We’ve rented a nice house in a cute neighborhood and I am thrilled about it. I only wish it were happening right NOW! Although this will mean the necessary quelling of my Secret Single Behaviors (such as leaving all the cabinets open, leaving all the lights on constantly, and setting the thermostat at a blamy 76°) the benefits are, of course, huge. Oh, I can’t WAIT!

Okay, I think I feel better now. Have any plusses or minuses of your own to share? Feel free to add them here.

Spring, Music, Different Kinds of Frogs

My very favorite local event was a couple of weeks ago, and it seems I’m only now getting around to mentioning it. Well, better late than never!

Play Nice
 

Necessary Items
The Old 280 Boogie happens every April in the tiny town of Waverly, just a few minutes outside of Auburn. Since I’ve been living here, I’ve never missed a Boogie! It’s an all-day festival with music, local artists, good food, and general fun and festivities. We brought a blanket, a cooler of beer, and some snacks and whiled away the day listening to bands and people watching. You really can’t go wrong.

My favorite bands at this year’s event:

Sam Doores + Riley Downing & The Tumbleweeds
Sam Doores & Riley Downing & The Tumbleweeds
Pine Hill Haints
The Pine Hill Haints
Hurray for the Riffraff
Hurray for the Riffraff
The Boogie always seems to signal the end of the academic year. Once it’s the season of sitting outside on a blanket drinking beer, one can hardly be expected to focus on school much longer. In the time since then, I’ve just been trying to keep pace with the last weeks of the semester: final papers to assign and grade, final exams to create and grade, and countless meetings with students. Office hours are never busier than when the semester is coming to a close, that’s for certain. But! Yesterday, I gave the last exam of the year, so things are finally almost over. I still have some paperwork and minor tasks to do in the office on Monday, but I feel finished. Finished feels good.

I had a few people over last night for drinks and snacks and celebrating the end of the year, and we had very much fun indeed. One of the best parts was that I got to witness my friend Becky’s reaction to the smell of Laphroaig:

This shall henceforth be known as The Frog, due to the way it made my entire apartment smell like a swamp.
I don’t know why, but I have been obsessed with just how unbelievably aromatic that stuff is. It’s bafflingly intense. CW and I went out for a happy hour drink a few weeks ago, and we each indulged in one fancy whiskey of our choice. I went with Basil Hayden Bourbon (my favorite, but so pricey as to only be appropriate once in a blue moon); he went with Laphroaig. I tasted some of his, but only confirmed that Scotch just isn’t for me. I’m definitely a Bourbon person. Anyway, our fun & fancy happy hour inspired him to buy a bottle of the peaty elixir to have on hand at home. What I hadn’t noticed in the crowded bar was that if there is a glass of Laphroaig in the room, I will know. That smell announces itself with authority, even if the nose and the glass are separated by several feet. The length of a sofa, let’s say.

So last night, when I was in the kitchen getting something and I heard Becky’s screams of disgust from the living room, I knew what had happened: she caught the scent of someone’s glass of Laphroaig — or, as I like to call it, The Frog, due to its bog-like, fetid, swampy odor. It was so funny: all night, whenever she happened to catch a whiff of it, even at a distance, she was like, “get that glass away from me!” I was of course in stitches over this whole thing, partly because it was funny, but also because it was sort of a relief to know that I’m not the only one who can smell The Frog from across the room and who finds it utterly unbearable. And I’m not a particularly strong sniffer! I’m usually the last person to notice a smell, but I can’t think of any other beverage that pungent. That shit’s like tear gas. It does not mess around.

Speaking of frogs, please allow me to show you this:

This little guy likes to hang out in the spout of my watering can.
This is one of my many little tree frog buddies. I have a watering can out on the patio for all the potted herbs I haven’t gotten around to buying or planting yet this spring. (Note to self: get on that.) So far, the watering can has been in use only for washing pollen off my furniture (so fun and festive!), but hey, that’s useful too. The best reason to have a watering can on your patio, though, is for the frogs! If there’s a little water in the bottom, the tree frogs will somehow sense it and gravitate to it. Every time I go out on the patio to hang out and read and have a glass of wine, I check the watering can and there is always at least one frog hanging out in there. Sometimes they sit on around the edge, sometimes they hide inside the can or inside the spout. The best is when they sit in the top of the spout just like in this photo. I mean, is that not the cutest thing ever? I maintain that it is.

I just have to be sure to evict any frogs from the can before I bring it inside to refill it — we’ve had several close calls with frogs getting loose in the house and nearly being eaten by the dog before I can catch them. Between the tree frogs and The Laphroaig Frog, it’s a jungle in here.

Finish on the 50 Half Marathon Race Report

On Saturday, I ran 13.1 miles for the first time since 2011. If you’ve been reading along with my training recaps (and frankly I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t have; that shit is gripping), you know I’ve been working toward this goal for about 12 weeks now, but training has not gone perfectly. The pain from my old hip injury started to flare up again after I packed a lot of mileage into a few days during spring break, and in order to get my hip to calm down again, I had to miss two key long runs (and a handful of short ones, too). My longest run of the training cycle was just ten miles — okay, but not ideal.

Saturday morning, I headed down to the race start feeling fairly confident I could finish, but knowing I wasn’t going to set any records or finish in a time anyone would regard as “fast.” Fine by me. (Meh.)

I had good company at the start — my friend Jenn had come into town to visit and run the race, and my friend Becky was there to run the 5K. My boyfriend would be waiting at the finish line. Even if I wasn’t racing for time, I knew I’d be able to make a fun morning out of it.

We lined up haphazardly in the middle of the street (no corrals, pace signs, or any other kind of indication of where to be) and probably seeded ourselves a little too close to the front. After waiting about fifteen minutes past the designated start time, without any kind of announcements, starting gun, or even the word “Go,” we were off.

(Can you tell this local race is a little disorganized? Let’s just say I’m glad I was carrying my own water and Gu.)

As usual, I went out too fast because I was feeling great. The first five miles flew by, due in no small part to some long declines as we headed toward Chewacla State Park on the south side of town. After the turnaround (at mile 5 or so), we started a long climb back up toward the neighborhoods around campus. There’s a particular hill that I know really well after struggling up it countless times on my bike last summer. It feels gradual, but endless, until it finally levels off and you can catch your breath — and then you’re faced with The Hill Part 2: Electric Boogaloo, the highly anticipated sequel which is in fact longer and steeper and, like almost all sequels, much worse than the original.

Fine, fine. I exaggerate. But it is a tough hill, and it was the first one that, for me, necessitated a walking break. During the second half of the race, I made it a habit to walk about half of every incline. My hill mantra in years past used to be “I eat hills for breakfast.” Alternate version: “Hills are an ooportunity to pass other runners.” Today’s much more resigned hill mantra: “Just don’t anger your hip.”

Around mile ten, we had made our way back to the campus area and I was officially running New Miles. Since my injury and PT, none of my training runs had gone longer than ten miles, so every step past that number was new territory for me. Emotionally, it felt great to be marking my name on new miles of road. Physically, my legs were unhappy. All down my right leg, I could feel it: my hip was tired (but I could tell I wasn’t straining/re-injuring it), my hamstring was tightening up, my IT band was tight and rubbing against my knee, my calf had turned to stone, and my foot had even joined in the chorus of barking. At one point, I had to stop at a lamppost and go through a series of quick stretches to get going again. After that, I felt markedly better.

The last three miles were slow. By this point, I could see only a few runners around me. Some water stops were unmanned. At the last few intersections there were no longer any police directing traffic, so I had to stop and wait a couple of times to cross the road. I wasn’t sure if the officers handling those points had left already or if they had simply never had anyone stationed there, but it made me feel like I must be really far behind. Was the course closing behind me? It turned out that it wasn’t (plenty of people finished later than I did), but the feeling wasn’t pleasant.

As I rounded the last corner, coming into view of the stadium again, I realized I was about to be finished, so I kicked it into as high a gear as I had remaining and chugged toward the gates. Running down the field to finish on the 50 yard line, your image blown up on the JumboTron in the end zone, is one of the attractions of this particular race. In my opinion, crossing any finish line is amazing, whether it’s in a stadium, in the middle of the street, or even in a parking lot. At this point, I was just happy to see that timing mat ahead of me.

Near the finish

I could hear Becky and CW cheering for me in the stands, and I “sprinted” for that line as best I could. It felt great to stop.

Finish on the 50 Half Marathon

My finish time wasn’t anwhere near my pre-injury PR of 2:06, but thankfully it wasn’t as slow as my slowest time ever, set at my first ever half marathon, of 2:29. Honestly, I’m not happy with the time, but I am happy with the finish. I’ll take it.

Three happy runners (@brunbec, @jjenniac)

After the race, we hung around in the stands for a little while snapping photos until Jenn and I (and our tired legs) felt equipped to make the Everest-like climb up to the stadium exit. This is not my favorite aspect of a stadium-finish race, I will tell you what. Thank goodness for race sherpas.

Post-race celebration brunch (@brunbec, @jjenniac, @kkennin).I had a mimosa, but realized what I REALLY wanted was this.

We walked downtown and met up with another friend, K., who had also run the 5K — her very first ever road race! A celebratory brunch with mimosas, Bloody Marys, and plenty of fried potatoes capped off the morning. If your breakfast involves good friends, adult beverages, and potatoes, you are doing something right, I always say.

Thanks so much for all the cheers and support over the last 12 weeks– it really means a lot.

Half Marathon Training: Week Eleven

This was the week I was getting back on a rough training schedule. After two weeks of rest + PT, and another week of shortened runs + more PT, I decided I was ready to try more normal distances. I had missed my 10-12 mile runs while my hip was busy acting the fool, so I determined that this weekend was my one chance to get in a long run before the half marathon. If I could do it without pain, I’d register for the half. If not, I’d register for the 10K (or even 5K, or nothing, as needed). How did it go? Read on!

Raramuri Proverb

Monday: Rest

Tuesday: 3.3 mile Run + PT stretches. I boldly decided I should start running in the afternoons, now that the weather is warm. I’ve been training for this half during the coldest spring I can remember here, but with the race taking place on April 27th, I knew I needed to acclimate to the heat. This was a baptism by fire. And steam. And sweat. Ugh. The first two miles were fine, but after that I had to keep taking more and more walking breaks because my blood felt like it was boiling over, and I had the tell-tale goosebumps of overheating. I got home and instantly placed all my frozen injury corn on my neck to cool down. What, you don’t keep frozen injury corn around?

Wednesday: PT. Lots of floor stuff, single-leg balances, lunges.

Thursday: 3.5 mile Run + PT. This run came together in a hurry — one look at the weather radar map told me a storm was a-brewin’, and if I wanted to run, I needed to get out there quickly. I headed out the door right away, left my technology behind, and had a good run. Made it home before the rain did anything more than spit a little. PT consisted of squats, balances, stretches.

Friday: Rest.

Saturday: 10 mile run. I did it! Whew. I planned an 8-mile route, deciding that was the minimum I’d try for. I could add on another two for a even ten miles if I was feeling good. Of course, if my hip started seizing up again, I’d cut it all short. But it didn’t, I felt fine! I kept the pace slow and took a 15-30-second walk break at every mile, like it or not. I wanted to see if I could go the distance, not try to race or push the effort too much. I’ll leave that for race day, if I’m up to it. I’m just relieved I was able to run long again without any hip troubles!

Sunday: rest. This was supposed to be a PT day, but Saturday afternoon I started feeling the effects of what turned out to be a stomach bug, and it’s still lingering around, so I’m staying horizontal as much as possible.

Well. I’d better go register for that race!

File Under: At Least it’s Not Yoga Pants, I Guess?

Yesterday, one of my students revealed that all semester she had assumed I’m a grad student. She was wondering if I had any final exams to take. Uh, no. So you’re already done with grad school? I’ve been done for a WHILE now, actually.

We laughed it off, like, hey, you just look so young! My secret potion must be working, I cackled. Awkwardness mostly erased.

But it stuck with me in an annoying way, and I found myself having an Imagination Argument this morning as I tidied up the kitchen before work. What is it that makes me seem more student, less faculty? I know I haven’t been dressing very nicely the last month or so — I’m sick of all my clothes and I’ve been wearing jeans more often than usual. The last couple of weeks, it’s been too hot for a blazer. My legs and feet are revolting against heels. All the little tokens of my wardrobe that tend to quietly point toward “professional” rather than “student” are therefore absent. I think I still put myself together in a neat and polished manner, but, you know. I’m not feeling it lately. So is that it? I’m not dressing for the part?

I’d like to think that at as long as there’s a firm line between my typical outfits and the students’ typical outfits (Nike shorts, leggings as pants, oversized tee-shirts, Chacos), I’m doing okay.  And let me take this opportunity to share this post on My Life as a College Professor, my new favorite tumblr:

When a Student Wears Their Pajamas to Class:

tumblr_inline_mknsqh0dr61rnvwt1_zpsf986351e

I’d rather it be the wardrobe than my teaching style or persona, you know? Wardrobe is easier to fix. But then I thought to myself, surely — SURELY — I demonstrate teaching skills and a base of knowledge that are appropriate for someone who has been teaching on the university level for thirteen years and has a terminal degree in the field. RIGHT? I refuse to imagine that this is the problem.

WELL. I see I have gone on about this subject for far longer than I had intended. Really what I wanted to say was this: Self, dress nicer and stop saying “like.”

Hot weather is here, though, and I just find it so wearying to try to look professional in hot-weather clothes. I don’t have any great summer-weight trousers; blazers and cardigans are almost always too hot (with some exceptions, maybe). Some dresses look okay, others tend to suggest that I’m on my way to a beach party. I can tell the difference, of course, between beach-party dresses and work-appropriate dresses. Maybe I’d rather be headed to the beach, you know? It’s just frustrating. Not a lot of what I have for summer clothing really works well at work. I’m not buying more this summer because I’m on a strict budget — which is also the case EVERY summer, so little about this situation is likely to change.

I also think I’m just tired of dressing up. It’s near the end of the school year and I’ve lost that feeling of fresh newness I had in August, when I wanted to make more of an effort. I was just fantasizing the other day about how I longed to just lounge around in sundresses and shorts and tee shirts for a while. I want to spend all of May and June just being relaxed and casual and even — if I feel like it — a complete slob. I will wear my flip flops every day! No one can stop me! You hear me?!