tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44601127169416170072024-02-06T20:47:33.738-06:00OMG FMLEmilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-33099152413602607062019-11-19T19:22:00.000-06:002019-11-19T19:22:09.695-06:00Another Year Older, Still LimpingClearly I'm not blogging on any sort of regular basis anymore. But I do still remember my password. When I first logged in, Google flipped out and wanted me to provide my social security number, a recent photo, a sample of my blood and the combination to my locker in high school back in 10th grade. But I did manage to get past all of these obstacles and now here I am to blog about my most recent workouts.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iOcADZWlGVI/XdSUgkxULFI/AAAAAAAACs8/YP1Mz9Zj8GIGgLxKyxM4myLHNTQDoYwswCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/58659968_10158408692374867_7636127376098721792_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iOcADZWlGVI/XdSUgkxULFI/AAAAAAAACs8/YP1Mz9Zj8GIGgLxKyxM4myLHNTQDoYwswCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/58659968_10158408692374867_7636127376098721792_n.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<br />
They mostly all suck. I'm running slower than ever. Yesterday I 'fartleked' and the part that was supposed to be sprinting didn't really qualify as anything of the sort. I was just running faster than I jog, but that's about all. The week before I had gone jogging for the first time in at least 6 months. During the warmer, sunnier months I had been cycling. I had assumed the cycling would maintain all the muscles that I work when running, and perhaps work a few others that running didn't seem to affect. I discovered last week while jogging that this is not so. Certain muscles on the front of both thighs let me know beyond all doubt that they had been unused and sound asleep for quite awhile and didn't appreciate having me wake them up in mid-run. I spent the next several days limping like Frankenstein.<br />
<br />
This week, after running, I decided to avoid the Frankenstein-effect of muscle stiffness and cover myself in ice packs. I didn't get everything, but I did manage to ice the muscles that had caused me so much pain last week. Today its mostly my calves that are stiff and sore.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm still here. Still workout out. Still don't look like I work out. At all.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-UQJ4_dm3kuWiZyj_q3i2X84Rnf1DMwECtYI5hZWA8PqfciKC2uQvRQPD9glh3EtiuO2irC2VWXz7Pft38yKwflRgh9tMD06LpBb5SYL90KxoYl7Yjr00mZ96Djaxph5OKDt83g4nAOV/s1600/68567190_348462082697530_71235369793748992_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="568" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-UQJ4_dm3kuWiZyj_q3i2X84Rnf1DMwECtYI5hZWA8PqfciKC2uQvRQPD9glh3EtiuO2irC2VWXz7Pft38yKwflRgh9tMD06LpBb5SYL90KxoYl7Yjr00mZ96Djaxph5OKDt83g4nAOV/s320/68567190_348462082697530_71235369793748992_n.jpg" width="189" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-31403852957491474402018-05-21T10:12:00.002-05:002018-05-21T10:12:51.387-05:00Its Been Awhile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hfv4o8FfTMg/WwLhz80dXZI/AAAAAAAACqM/jZyjCR7CvcsYOVlRRTZvahMFvmH9FJv9gCLcBGAs/s1600/33cac018dabd20a5c705ae03b385f435-hamster-wheel-rat-race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="426" height="307" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hfv4o8FfTMg/WwLhz80dXZI/AAAAAAAACqM/jZyjCR7CvcsYOVlRRTZvahMFvmH9FJv9gCLcBGAs/s320/33cac018dabd20a5c705ae03b385f435-hamster-wheel-rat-race.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Yes, OK, so its been awhile since I've written anything here. It has also been awhile since I've run any races or worked out in general. The reason is because I began to experience a series of injuries, one after the other. And to be honest, these constant injuries just wore me down. It got to the point where instead of trying to achieve a respectable time in a race I was simply trying to complete one entire race without re-injuring anything. And I was not succeeding.<br />
<br />
I believe I limped across the finish line of 3 Cotton Row Runs in a row. I also limped through an entire 5K race in Somerville, Tennessee one year. Yes, I limped the ENTIRE race. Pulled a hamstring. I was SO mad that I did the race anyway. But obviously my state of mind by that point was not very optimistic.<br />
<br />
Also contributing to my workout unhappiness was the fact that for 3 years straight I was somewhat limited to running on a treadmill. I had a workout partner running beside me, which helped. But he injured his knee while stretching one day. Yes, stretching. That was all he was doing. But that knee injury stayed with him and got progressively worse until today, where he is not running at all anymore. And neither am I.<br />
<br />
I no longer have a gym membership. My employer has a room they call a gym. We call it a storage closet where a bunch of weights are piled. But they insist that it is a gym. Or as Human Resources calls it, a 'workout space.' Yeah, not much space there, but at least there is an Olympic bar and some Olympic plates. Theoretically I could squeeze in there and do an actual weight lifting workout.<br />
<br />
My workouts lately have consisted of nothing more than climbing a staircase that goes from the ground level up to the 8th floor, which is as high as it goes. Considering my injury-plagued history I have been taking this slowly. I did this climb daily for a very long time before upping my intensity to a light run up the stairs. Even so, three times I have had to stop because of an injury to my knee. Its on old injury, but it comes back whenever it detects me trying to exercise and reminds me that it is there. It usually takes about a week for it to return to normal so that I can resume my stair climbing again. This last time, due to an unexpected office move that required me and several other men in the group to move everyone else's desks for them, the injury lasted closer to 3 weeks. It was nearly healed when I was drafted to help with the move. But it seems much better today.<br />
<br />
I know this is not exciting. Very little about this blog is terribly exciting. I'll admit I did this on purpose, to some extent. For those of you still reading, if you were aware of my previous blog then you likely have noticed that I have gone to great lengths to make sure this blog is nothing like it. Its not that I didn't like the previous blog. Its just that I wanted to do something different, more for me than anything else, and with less cussing and nudity.<br />
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-19782210409872537102015-05-25T23:45:00.000-05:002015-05-25T23:45:13.282-05:00Cotton Row Run 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUSBQHTNWNAjUj4RjQjWRLZ0i8WOnvL9Gw4ropNzuTX6SBxy2bizsj9Q2pmMZQqA7ax4EspXS8j0BGdQl60Zy7AFQVWlItC-edIEkIHCy1tqZVRtbUGd-ZGs7ABh0PZQT4FwZhj_GEcRm/s1600/17915543-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUSBQHTNWNAjUj4RjQjWRLZ0i8WOnvL9Gw4ropNzuTX6SBxy2bizsj9Q2pmMZQqA7ax4EspXS8j0BGdQl60Zy7AFQVWlItC-edIEkIHCy1tqZVRtbUGd-ZGs7ABh0PZQT4FwZhj_GEcRm/s320/17915543-standard.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
<br />
This year's Cotton Row Run was a somewhat similar to all the previous ones I've blogged about running - I was injured prior to the start of the race. <br />
<br />
But this time I didn't have a pulled muscle or cramped up calf. This time I had stepped on a steel dumbbell and bruised the crap out of the ball of my foot. This happened a week ago and I was partially healed from it. I still have enough of a limp that I wasn't sure if I should even attempt to run. I made my decision at what I thought was the last possible minute. I jumped into my car and drove as fast as I could to the race. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LhKioAishd0/VWP3fAzniWI/AAAAAAAACmU/3OKcjXd0ji0/s1600/17915599-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LhKioAishd0/VWP3fAzniWI/AAAAAAAACmU/3OKcjXd0ji0/s320/17915599-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When I got there and as I was running to the starting line, some guy passed me going away from the race. I assumed he had run the 10K race. It starts 2 hours before the 5K that I run and should have finished already. When we passed he turned and said "hey, they've delayed the start of the race. A tree fell across the course somewhere and they delayed the race by one hour. Your race doesn't start until 10 am." I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but I kept on running to my start line.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SYg4y1nmdKU/VWP5M_CnK9I/AAAAAAAACnE/-1k43FmUMGU/s1600/cotton_row.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SYg4y1nmdKU/VWP5M_CnK9I/AAAAAAAACnE/-1k43FmUMGU/s320/cotton_row.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When I reached the start, sure enough, the 10K race was still going on. I was forced to stand around for an hour and twenty minutes before my own race even began to line up at the start. Once we were lined up and ready to run, the founder of the race took the microphone and talked to us, sang at us, pledged allegiance with us, and bugled us for another 20 minutes. At this point I had been standing up for nearly 2 hours. Finally they fired the starting gun and we were off.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwmZvjfVoQdi0N_Yb278rCb3uHWUe2LH4m9o0GjgK2wvqgIyWrXBYMt5iFlBBHZzkq1GzuhEtYIasZUg_42G6ed4okvshOjk3fhNaEZMCm9y2WaqrijeSqlJXhuwHJeOPDHT3cggCFGy-/s1600/17915550-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwmZvjfVoQdi0N_Yb278rCb3uHWUe2LH4m9o0GjgK2wvqgIyWrXBYMt5iFlBBHZzkq1GzuhEtYIasZUg_42G6ed4okvshOjk3fhNaEZMCm9y2WaqrijeSqlJXhuwHJeOPDHT3cggCFGy-/s320/17915550-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At first I was preoccupied with swerving through the maze of slow people, walking people, and people I just have no idea why they were in our way at all. Finally I made my way into a crowd of runners who were moving along at the same pace as I was. But right away people were stopping to walk. And then I noticed that my own legs felt like rubber. They felt like ... like I had already run every event in a track meet and was ready to get on the bus and go home. My legs were shot!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoaA1EgsWvE/VWP5aQaaLsI/AAAAAAAACnM/e1O49HbPUtQ/s1600/17915550-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoaA1EgsWvE/VWP5aQaaLsI/AAAAAAAACnM/e1O49HbPUtQ/s320/17915550-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I kept plodding along, thinking that at any minute my body would adjust and I'd be warmed up. Then the feeling of weakness and shakiness would pass. Then I would run like normal. I was already moving at the pace I wanted. I finished the first mile at 9 minutes and 20 seconds. That's not fast by anyone's measure, but after so many injury-wrecked races and so much trouble with my legs, all I wanted to do was get back under that 30 minute mark where normal people run. 3 sub-10-minute miles would give me my very attainable goal. This should not be that hard. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNqlxA6VJMw/VWP4ECUTanI/AAAAAAAACmk/vGLvGu3FsJc/s1600/17911301-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNqlxA6VJMw/VWP4ECUTanI/AAAAAAAACmk/vGLvGu3FsJc/s320/17911301-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But as I passed that 1 mile marker and they shouted my time to me, I could not escape the miserable feeling in my legs. They were simply shot. They had no strength at all. They felt as if I were suffering from the flu and needed to go lie down with some orange juice and a bowl of soup. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cGOJKkEBNS-qX_aAPuYqZUNP8iY9-7USvlv2AkV4_81UzGNF6C68WJRp2rx5dt_phhhy-TxqLEqg9PQCM-FKKJFrXTFHGikfQVuKbBDe6v8-QIzfpnm6JcaKmT7gS4cr-aSd57XESNyx/s1600/17911088-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cGOJKkEBNS-qX_aAPuYqZUNP8iY9-7USvlv2AkV4_81UzGNF6C68WJRp2rx5dt_phhhy-TxqLEqg9PQCM-FKKJFrXTFHGikfQVuKbBDe6v8-QIzfpnm6JcaKmT7gS4cr-aSd57XESNyx/s320/17911088-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At the 1 1/2 mile marker they had set up a water station. I slowed to grab a cup. My legs wobbled badly. And then the worst happened - I stopped running and walked. This is something I would never have done back in the days when I ALWAYS ran well under 30 minutes in every 5K and I NEVER walked for any reason. I walked for maybe 20-30 seconds, hoping to shake off the weakness in my legs. Hey, when I fartlek a 10 second walk gives me enough of a rest to blast into a much faster pace than I was currently running. Sure, I'd walk again at some point after that, only to sprint again afterwards, but I always had the strength and energy to keep doing it over and over again. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3iVjQO7OeAxFNBw-mEVaH_rm_pNH0qcKyWKl_KKUFYMa-mXpNH2_S2sAOHYewGhuAzynAxLXXgzdt8fTgERW7rEJs4y0E6XlLdiz965hHIFhOGT5YHbMREGpq13hFJsZZFeDgriOSYW8/s1600/17911307-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3iVjQO7OeAxFNBw-mEVaH_rm_pNH0qcKyWKl_KKUFYMa-mXpNH2_S2sAOHYewGhuAzynAxLXXgzdt8fTgERW7rEJs4y0E6XlLdiz965hHIFhOGT5YHbMREGpq13hFJsZZFeDgriOSYW8/s320/17911307-standard.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Not this time. I started running again. My legs still felt like rubber. I ran and ran, but tried adjusting my pace to something a little slower. Maybe I just needed to ease up a bit and that'd fix the problem. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udSStxnLQ9A/VWP6CbGD21I/AAAAAAAACnk/FiaqLHx1q-A/s1600/17911310-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udSStxnLQ9A/VWP6CbGD21I/AAAAAAAACnk/FiaqLHx1q-A/s320/17911310-standard.jpg" width="261" /></a></div>
<br />
Nope. I had to stop and walk again after the 2 mile mark. And one more time after that. At the start of the 3rd mile I still had plenty of opportunity to kick it up and finish under 30 minutes. My brain knew this. But my legs weren't even going to pretend that this was a possibility. I ran the 3rd and final mile as fast as my wobbly Weeble-like legs would allow, and I even felt at the final stretch as if I might puke. But my speed was ... lacking. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0BRB6F9HrlM/VWP4soA1PVI/AAAAAAAACm8/JJO_XeSdRfc/s1600/17911306-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0BRB6F9HrlM/VWP4soA1PVI/AAAAAAAACm8/JJO_XeSdRfc/s320/17911306-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
As I crossed the finish line the clock over my head read 33 minutes and 20 seconds. It was an epic fail. One full year of injury-plagued training had gained me absolutely nothing in this race. I could have run this time without training at all. After I crossed the finish I felt as if my legs were going to literally crumble underneath me. I struggled not to fall to the pavement. This was ridiculous! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g_FV-GzzEp4/VWP6OzqOyjI/AAAAAAAACns/Q238mCKpTN4/s1600/17911089-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g_FV-GzzEp4/VWP6OzqOyjI/AAAAAAAACns/Q238mCKpTN4/s320/17911089-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
So now I have a question for anyone still reading this blog, anyone who just happened by, anyone who is a runner or any sort of athlete and has something resembling an educated opinion about this. I didn't sleep well the night before the race. And I didn't sleep well the night before that. I don't know if that mattered. But I do think that the hour and a half or so minutes that I spent standing and standing and oh-my-God more standing took a lot out of my legs. In fact, I think it turned my legs into blocks of useless wood. Whenever I have to spend hours shopping my legs and my lower back wear out, my bum knee swells, and I feel a powerful urge to go sit in a leather booth and drink something cold and mostly unhealthy. So what do you think? Does standing on your feet for over an hour without a break, prior to a race, take a lot out of your legs? Do you think this is what went wrong for me?<br />
<br />
I wish there was a forum somewhere for people who ran this race to talk. If there were I'd ask them. But as I don't know of any, I'm asking you. Any opinions?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7oqAEVmFma5JTgSvatDiPujnTYkvnqJysHwMJD5cQp66Wx5hFXj9YXo9BfPyk_4MXDL0nslPWf3jl3DSvJA34iR33IOEjZMGGqtItt4DwYW5cMngkx2XOGo8b_cfuRJsH1F-xRHABOzU/s1600/17911098-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7oqAEVmFma5JTgSvatDiPujnTYkvnqJysHwMJD5cQp66Wx5hFXj9YXo9BfPyk_4MXDL0nslPWf3jl3DSvJA34iR33IOEjZMGGqtItt4DwYW5cMngkx2XOGo8b_cfuRJsH1F-xRHABOzU/s320/17911098-standard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-1676157727895022682015-03-10T22:01:00.001-05:002015-03-10T22:01:33.565-05:00Still Running<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hT2BXscVbXc/VP-v9zOa_-I/AAAAAAAAClg/KcJaqorHD9w/s1600/Ice_Storm_Kansas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hT2BXscVbXc/VP-v9zOa_-I/AAAAAAAAClg/KcJaqorHD9w/s1600/Ice_Storm_Kansas.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Yeah, I've been away awhile. It's been one hell of a winter, with ice storms and sleet and an up-down-up-down temperature shift that is making me insane. First it was 10 degrees. Then, that very weekend, it was 60 degrees. My trees started to bud. Then it was 10 again and a big sleet storm his, freezing everything under a layer of ice. Then it warmed up again and rained. Then it was 10 again and we had an ice storm, followed by some snow. This was 4 days ago. Today its 60 and raining cats and dogs. The ground is frozen and flooded. There are still piles of ice where people shoveled it and yet we're wearing short sleeve shirts today.<br />
<br />
<br />
Weather like this reminds me of why I'm currently a big treadmill runner. Can you imagine how my running would be doing if I were trying to run outdoors in all of this?<br />
<br />
OK, so I'm still running, but I'm still slower than Christmas. Yesterday it occurred to me why. When I was a little kid my parents gave me a purple spyderbike for Christmas. That same year, or maybe the next, my best friend and his younger sisters all received neon-colored spyderbikes. We all rode together everywhere. And where we lived was extremely hilly. I remember one hill in particular, a road named BeBe Ann, or however you spell it. It was a road I passed on my way to the swimming pool all the time. It was so steep that even cars seemed to avoid it. I would pedal as far up that hill as I could. When I couldn't make it I'd pedal until I was at a complete standstill, then turn the front wheel and roll back down. I did that every time I passed that street just to see how many tries it would take me to finally make it to the top. It ended up taking years. I was little and my legs were little, too. But I eventually made it. When I wasn't trying to ride up this hill I was riding everywhere else. My bike didn't have gears. It was just one speed and one gear and that was it. Anywhere I rode to required me to pedal as hard as it took to get there. Being a little kid I didn't think this was a big deal. And I had no idea that I was making my legs extremely strong.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ryCaduNLw9E/VP-vW1o3L-I/AAAAAAAAClY/rg7daymq0As/s1600/spyder%2Bbike%2Bblue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ryCaduNLw9E/VP-vW1o3L-I/AAAAAAAAClY/rg7daymq0As/s1600/spyder%2Bbike%2Bblue.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When my elementary school decided to have impromptu foot races in PE class I wasn't surprised when I was one of the fastest kids in my grade. I was already playing basketball and soccer and running track for a church league so I knew I was fast. But I assumed it was something that ran in my family, something I had inherited. My sisters were all fast and they had said running was something we were all good at.<br />
<br />
<br />
But my brother wasn't. And neither was my dad. And none of his sister's kids were good runners.<br />
<br />
By the time I reached high school I was bicycling everywhere all the time. I joined the track team and was fast, even fast compared to all the other kids in my grade all across the state.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcWhB52PAp8/VP-ujeiuzaI/AAAAAAAAClQ/1zGUJtp9HT0/s1600/P19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcWhB52PAp8/VP-ujeiuzaI/AAAAAAAAClQ/1zGUJtp9HT0/s1600/P19.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
All these years later I haven't ridden bikes on a regular basis in a very long time. And when I do ride my legs wear out fast. They're weak. Just a few years ago I used to harassed a friend of mine for constantly complaining about his running not getting any faster. I advised him to do strength training - sprint work, hills, fartlek. He ignored me and just kept running further and further distances while avoiding several extremely good, steep hills right across from his own neighborhood. The first race we ran together I beat him despite not having worked out in years. It made him mad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ROYoxmqpIKc/VP-toed3g7I/AAAAAAAAClE/OdDyt5HhqOU/s1600/runner_with_skinny_legs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ROYoxmqpIKc/VP-toed3g7I/AAAAAAAAClE/OdDyt5HhqOU/s1600/runner_with_skinny_legs.jpg" height="320" width="123" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Endurance runner</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A few years later and I'm living in a city with virtually no hills for me to run. I live in the country where there are no street lights. By the time I get home its dark, so bicycling is a bad idea. As I've written here, I've been running on a treadmill for quite awhile. At first it was just a way for me to get back into the habit while taking it slow and trying to avoid injuries. Instead I had a string of injuries, (probably the result of wearing shoes without any arch support) none of which helped me increase my strength or speed. Since then all I do is run the treadmill. And its boring. And I'm sick of running the same treadmill in the same room all winter long. So I've been treadmill-fartleking way more than I should. Its not really a good, hard workout the way I've been doing it. Its more of an excuse to stop and walk which I then justify by running faster than I otherwise would have in-between. But you can't fartlek every workout, and if you aren't really pushing it then you're just walking a lot when you should be running and working on a steady pace.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
So, yesterday I didn't run the treadmill. Yesterday I did leg presses, as heavy as I could go without exploding my knees. This gym has no squat rack and that's a real shame. All it has are machines. So I pressed and pressed, knowing that my legs are going to hurt badly the next few days the way they should after a good leg workout. Then I did leg extensions and stiff-legged deadlifts. It wasn't a huge workout, but considering I haven't done any strength training in a long time I thought it was a good start. I need to do a lot more of this. Runners can't simply run and run some more and expect that this will be enough to improve their times, especially if you're running long distances. If you want to get faster, or even get back to where you used to be, you've got to build muscle. And that's what I need to do.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-icfk6mE4S-8/VP-soPwdKjI/AAAAAAAACkw/zjlx7Orta-k/s1600/day7aths09_gallery__277x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-icfk6mE4S-8/VP-soPwdKjI/AAAAAAAACkw/zjlx7Orta-k/s1600/day7aths09_gallery__277x400.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Sprinter</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-72691709606976275442015-01-11T00:00:00.000-06:002015-01-11T00:00:50.297-06:00It's 2015 already!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2Ca8aOjKwU/VLIQL-Gq0oI/AAAAAAAACj8/MDnYBBJ_IMQ/s1600/dallas%2Bvs%2Bdetroit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2Ca8aOjKwU/VLIQL-Gq0oI/AAAAAAAACj8/MDnYBBJ_IMQ/s1600/dallas%2Bvs%2Bdetroit.jpg" height="288" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy new year and all that. If you're a Seahawk fan then you should be happy tonight. They just beat the Panthers. If you're a Patriots fan you're relieved. They had to come from behind to beat the Ravens at the very end of the game. So that just leaves the Cowboys vs the Packers and the Broncos vs the Colts. That's all tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Oh, and let's not forget the Oregon vs Ohio State college championship game on Monday night. That's a big deal!<br />
<br />
I'm a Cowboys fan. I have been since I was 10 years old, so at least I'm consistent. I can't recall the last time I saw a Cowboys team in the playoffs and not losing. Last week was the first time in a long time. I'll be honest with you guys, I didn't watch their playoff game against Detroit. I just couldn't do it. I hadn't seen Dallas beat Detroit since Megatron joined the team. I believe Megatron's real name is Calvin Johnson or something like that, but everyone just calls him Megatron. He's a giant and for several years Dallas had no corner or safety tall enough or skilled enough to stop him. I left the game playing on the TV and went upstairs to watch Lord of the Rings. I had just seen The Hobbit 3 and wanted to rewatch all the Lord of the Rings movies now that I had finally seen the entire first book in movie form. I came downstairs just in time to see Erin Andrews interviewing Tony Romo and asking him about how it feels to finally win his first playoff game.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is the big day, the Cowboys vs Packers in Green Bay, Wisconsin day. Its expected to be <i><b>COLD</b></i> and the stadium is an outdoor stadium. That's bad for Dallas. But Aaron Rodgers has a tear in his left calf which somewhat limits his mobility. Just how important that is remains to be seen. But that's bad for Green Bay.<br />
<br />
OK, well, it's 2015 and I'm still posting to my blog despite the fact that roughly 3/4s of the blogs in my blogroll haven't posted in months, some in over a year. I'm late to the party, obviously, but I'm still here. Don't give up on me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YDe73b3DTX8/VLIPHR-LtNI/AAAAAAAACjw/hJaXkFTFVYA/s1600/erin-andrews%2B002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YDe73b3DTX8/VLIPHR-LtNI/AAAAAAAACjw/hJaXkFTFVYA/s1600/erin-andrews%2B002.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Very</i> popular sideline reporter Erin Andrews</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-42224067287346878302014-12-21T18:56:00.000-06:002014-12-21T18:56:02.334-06:00Merry Christmas!!!Doomed. This blog is doomed. I know that this blog is doomed because I have gone over 1 month without posting anything. I've never done something like that before.<br />
<br />
I'm still working out, mostly running. And most of my running is on the treadmill. I don't know how much I should count that as running. It's more like trotting electronically. Its an electric trot. Yes, that's what I'm going to call it from now on. I have been going on 3 mile electric trots 2 to 3 times per week on a fairly regular basis. It's been awhile since my last injury. That's a big relief. Of course, it's also been awhile since my last race and I have been running more slowly in an attempt at avoiding further injury. I'm pretty sick of the whole constant injury thing. But I'm equally sick of running at a ridiculously weak pace.<br />
<br />
I'm fartleking a lot now. It's not because I'm strong and free of the fear of injury. I wish it was. Its because I'm sick of running the same 3 miles on a treadmill while watching the same Seinfeld rerun in the same cinderblock room, day after day. I just want something to break up the monotony. Fartleking allows me to convince myself that the workout will end more quickly. It doesn't, but I feel less bored.<br />
<br />
Other than this, Merry Christmas! If you're still reading this blog after so many have bailed on me then I owe you a Christmas card. If you want it, send me your name and address and I'll send you the Christmas card. :-)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--z1WCmrhxF8/VJdr4xkP0vI/AAAAAAAACjc/y0HKIj0hAT0/s1600/christmas_day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--z1WCmrhxF8/VJdr4xkP0vI/AAAAAAAACjc/y0HKIj0hAT0/s1600/christmas_day.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-88136748247163599532014-11-02T22:19:00.001-06:002014-11-02T22:19:09.000-06:00Checking InIt's been awhile since I was here last. Not a lot has changed. I'll make this quick. I injured my hamstring before the Warrior Dash. It was cold and wet and I couldn't see any point in my going and trying to run the hills of the Warrior Dash this year with a pulled hamstring. This was the first time I skipped the race after running 3 straight. And I didn't feel terribly disappointed about it. I think perhaps that is a bad sign. My fatigue is not from running. My fatigue is from being repeatedly injured and constantly having to fear the next injury, whatever it may be.<br />
<br />
My workouts since skipping the Dash haven't been great. It is now taking me almost a full mile of fast walking before I feel warmed up enough to break into a slow run. Even with the slow run I feel my calves and hamstrings threatening to pull. It makes no sense to me. But it is certainly frustrating.<br />
<br />
Aside from workouts, I have stress at work. As part of my position I am required to maintain 2 professional certifications in addition to my degree. I earned my first certification early this year. It was fairly difficult. My 2nd certification I earned just yesterday. It was very difficult and I barely passed. But if I am to keep my job I have to deliver both of these certifications to my employer or else they'll have armed guards escort me out after a specific period of time. I delivered the first certification already, but I'm having trouble getting the 2nd one to download. The company that conducted the test and awarded me my certification sent me an email congratulating me for earning it, as well as giving me a link to download my certification. When I click the link it tells me I have not earned the certification and then forwards me to a link to register for the certification test. I am more than slightly frustrated by this.<br />
<br />
Anyway, no one is going to read this so rather than continue with other things about what is going on, I'll simply stop here.<br />
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-80812633717509730172014-09-30T22:44:00.001-05:002014-09-30T22:44:26.550-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sjy_SYpouXc/VCt4fJP1Y1I/AAAAAAAACjI/K6FIiUDeiCs/s1600/flip-fail.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sjy_SYpouXc/VCt4fJP1Y1I/AAAAAAAACjI/K6FIiUDeiCs/s1600/flip-fail.gif" height="280" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-56059220954922561192014-09-27T22:20:00.001-05:002014-09-27T22:20:36.792-05:00Lacking MotivationIt's been so long since I've last blogged that Blogger seems to have locked up my page. I can't even get the URL to come up. How funny.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OjnW5B-xHio/VCd8oP-wnoI/AAAAAAAACic/PE-XDGkALqE/s1600/sign-cripple-crossing-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OjnW5B-xHio/VCd8oP-wnoI/AAAAAAAACic/PE-XDGkALqE/s1600/sign-cripple-crossing-2.png" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Anyway, over the past month, which is about how long its been since I wrote last, I've been battling this injury and that one. I even ran a 5K race with a pulled hamstring because I was just so sick and tired of always feeling like I couldn't do what I wanted due to the latest in an endless stream of stupid injuries.<br />
<br />
One thing all these injuries have done, though, is to take away my motivation. I don't have any real reason to train anymore. I have a race coming up, the Warrior Dash, but there is no hope of my being able to run up those hills with a hamstring injury nagging at me and calves that are perpetually ready to let go any any moment. I have thought long and hard about whether I am even going to train for it and try to go. I've just about decided not to bother. Last week I skipped the treadmill and went to one of the only hills anywhere near this Godforsaken city to run 'sprints' repeatedly up it. I put sprints in quote marks because my hamstring makes it impossible for me to truly sprint. The best I can do is carefully stride in sprint form, as if I were truly sprinting, but not quite. I could feel everything in my legs straining close to the limit, wanting to strain something - a calf or hamstring or perhaps something new.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvMYiJyDCi4/VCd-Zw2Q7TI/AAAAAAAACi4/j0mk4d2mQfw/s1600/sp503_CrippleFight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvMYiJyDCi4/VCd-Zw2Q7TI/AAAAAAAACi4/j0mk4d2mQfw/s1600/sp503_CrippleFight.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I've had it. I'm still training, but not for any race. At this point I'm barely able to make myself even get on the stupid treadmill. On Monday I jacked up the elevation on the treadmill little by little, until I had it as high as it would go, and I fartleked on it. But after that I was so sore and stiff that I couldn't do jack squat on Wednesday. On Friday I just felt no motivation at all. I wanted to get on a bike or lift weights or something, anything except meander along on a treadmill watching the speed to see if I was even moving fast enough to be worth the trouble. I started running goofy out of sheer boredom. I did the Phoebe, from the episode of Friends when she went running with Rachel and ran like a goof. I ran like Elaine dances on Seinfeld. I ran like Kramer. At one point the guy running next to me commented that he thought I might break the treadmill. I was just so bored and sick of it all I really didn't care.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKbNuGcYklAs7ddai6KJ1lInwt9AW9aveZzpufZabBgme6Kcqs_CVXDoAyNfS_OUAwLFrFBNkf1QvAh25J-uyR-ZEHcwnBnDnIR8WuQcvkpr9GemvFIgKt-tj2hyb7iD_7u_LZ7Itq1sT/s1600/phoebe-running-friends_o_GIFSoup.com_.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKbNuGcYklAs7ddai6KJ1lInwt9AW9aveZzpufZabBgme6Kcqs_CVXDoAyNfS_OUAwLFrFBNkf1QvAh25J-uyR-ZEHcwnBnDnIR8WuQcvkpr9GemvFIgKt-tj2hyb7iD_7u_LZ7Itq1sT/s1600/phoebe-running-friends_o_GIFSoup.com_.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
So this is where I am right now. I don't think I'm going to attempt the Warrior Dash. There is another 5K that same weekend just down the street from my house. I might attempt that one, but the last time I did one of these local 5Ks I ran the entire way with a bad hamstring. It was a disaster.<br />
<br />
That's been my whole year, really, a disaster.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rMDI9XJSFE8/VCd-GOxHvEI/AAAAAAAACiw/YZljtDd4aQs/s1600/rachel-running-like-phoebe-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rMDI9XJSFE8/VCd-GOxHvEI/AAAAAAAACiw/YZljtDd4aQs/s1600/rachel-running-like-phoebe-o.gif" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-63408826537999888902014-08-26T21:59:00.002-05:002014-08-26T21:59:37.500-05:00Wednesday ... again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DL4m85nSQkk/U_1Grv23bzI/AAAAAAAACfk/hoVg3I3an8M/s1600/tumblr_n6exv49fSn1qzpsuoo1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DL4m85nSQkk/U_1Grv23bzI/AAAAAAAACfk/hoVg3I3an8M/s1600/tumblr_n6exv49fSn1qzpsuoo1_250.gif" height="310" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
OK, so it's not a Wordless Wednesday because I'm typing stuff again. I do that sometimes. Still, it's my blog and lately it's just me and AlleyCat talking here, so I guess I'll just go ahead and talk on Wordless Wednesday.<br />
<br />
Back to the Future II is on. I haven't seen this movie in forever. And next is Back to the Future III. It occurs to me that I've never even seen Back to the Future III. So I guess now I'll see it.<br />
<br />
The picture above is an image-stabilized shot from the old Star Trek series. When they did scenes where the Enterprise was attacked or hit with something, the camera would shake all around and everyone would throw themselves around. It looked convincing enough, I guess. But when you remove the camera shake it looks a little .... eh, less impressive. Don't you think?<br />
<br />
I think I've found a possible cause to all my calf injuries. At least, I'm hoping so. You see, for the past few months I've been wearing these dress shoes to work every day because its required. Anyway, the specific shoes aren't required, just a formal dress, or semi ... office attire, I don't know what they call it. Anyway, I'm not exactly wearing Nike running shoes all day. That's the point I'm trying to make. Instead, I'm wearing leather shoes which, as it turns out, have absolutely NO arch support in them. Yes, that's right, none at all. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Zero.<br />
<br />
The lack of any arch support combined with the useless heel makes me lean slightly forward and puts even more pressure on my arches. And then I go running after work and my calves blow out on me.<br />
<br />
On Monday I ran by a sporting goods store to check out some arch supports. The guy working there asked me to take my shoe off so he could look at my arches to help determine which level of arch would be best. I took my shoe off and stepped down. He got on his knees and looked at my foot and said, "totally collapsed. Your foot is flat." Yep, flat.<br />
<br />
So on Monday I put my new arch supports in my running shoes and then got on the treadmill. My right calf was already giving me trouble, so I didn't run. I just walked faster and faster and faster until I couldn't go any faster without having to run. I did just over 2 miles and then did a LOT of toe raises and some upper body exercises. No problems with my calves.<br />
<br />
Now its Wednesday and if my calves seem up for it I'm going to run again. I'm hoping to God that these arch supports combined with my calf sleeves and toe raises I've been doing will finally help me solve these calf injury problems once and for all.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Back to the Future III is starting and I've never seen this before, so I'm going to watch it. Wish me luck.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-17367336500080931572014-08-15T23:44:00.000-05:002014-08-15T23:44:03.966-05:00Wounded Warrior<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FA4oYSQ2KZw/U-7hEbSDdqI/AAAAAAAACfM/uVpKtm5gJHI/s1600/disabledrunner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FA4oYSQ2KZw/U-7hEbSDdqI/AAAAAAAACfM/uVpKtm5gJHI/s1600/disabledrunner.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm running 3 times per week now, always on a treadmill, so the environment is heavily controlled and always the same. The only thing that is changing is what I'm watching on the TV while I try to run.<br />
<br />
My calf injury problem is getting worse. My left calf has bothered me repeatedly. A good wrap seemed to stop that. For awhile. But then my unwrapped right calf went out on me. So I wrapped it as well. <br />
<br />
And just this week my left calf, even with the wrap, went out on me. I felt it going and jumped off the treadmill immediately, limping over to the stationary bicycle to finish my workout. But come Friday, which is today, it was bothering me so badly that I never got beyond the fast walking stage of my warm-up and even then it was hurting. And yes, it was wrapped.<br />
<br />
I've been trying to strengthen both of my problematic calves with toe raises after every run. My calf muscles feel bigger and tighter, but they are apparently no more durable than they were before.<br />
<br />
An article I read said that as runners get older all the usual injuries - hamstring, quadriceps, gluteus - become less and less problematic. But the calves start to become the real weakness, the main source of trouble. I can't imagine why this is. And I can't help but think that it isn't the years of running that have caused this, but something else, something I'm doing wrong. <br />
<br />
Every day at work I am either tired at some point when I can't afford to be tired or else bored to death. So I drink coffee. I've had a friend who is a professional trainer tell me that she thinks coffee is bad and that I should avoid it. But she didn't say it causes pulled muscles or strained calves specifically. I drink it black. And I try to drink a lot of water throughout the day to make sure I'm not dehydrated.<br />
<br />
I've developed a habit of drinking a Coke with my lunch. Sometimes its Orange Crush. I don't sip on this sort of drink all day like some people do. I just have the one drink and when lunch is over and the Coke is gone I don't have any more. But Coke does tend to dehydrate a person.<br />
<br />
Far too many of my lunches have involved going out to eat. Restaurant food takes a lot better than my sandwich, but it is very bad for me. I wonder if this alone could be causing this problem?<br />
<br />
After every workout I drink a gigantic glass of milk mixed with creatine, whey or casein protein, amino acids and various other GNC-approved runner's cocktail stuff. Then I shower and after that I try to either ice or massage my arches and calves. Lately, with all of the injuries, I've been doing mostly icing.<br />
<br />
The more calf raises I do, the more my arches seem to be talking to me in the mornings when I get out of bed. To be fair, this coincides with my calves bothering me and so I'm icing and not doing much massaging or rolling tennis balls under my feet. I returned to the tennis ball tonight after my run. My feet thanked me for it. Then I used The Stick on my calves and they, too, seemed appreciative.<br />
<br />
I have another race in about a month. I really need to figure this problem out and get it resolved. I realize that not many people are reading this blog, but any help or advice anyone has to offer is greatly appreciated. Any ideas?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1815TF45EEo/U-7haeJbjPI/AAAAAAAACfU/s1ZbUy9f-s0/s1600/question.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1815TF45EEo/U-7haeJbjPI/AAAAAAAACfU/s1ZbUy9f-s0/s1600/question.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-58335610468525484652014-08-12T23:04:00.000-05:002014-08-12T23:04:12.170-05:00Wordless Wednesday - White Man Dance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4BohK3lm9Os/U-rjfLGj-sI/AAAAAAAACe0/OLtjoGwvkMY/s1600/whitest-dance.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4BohK3lm9Os/U-rjfLGj-sI/AAAAAAAACe0/OLtjoGwvkMY/s1600/whitest-dance.gif" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-24414787601376794502014-08-05T20:42:00.001-05:002014-08-05T20:42:32.287-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Skateboard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CnxASBuWhcs/U-GH6kVV9qI/AAAAAAAACd0/JhPGugA1d1w/s1600/skateboarding_fail-13343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CnxASBuWhcs/U-GH6kVV9qI/AAAAAAAACd0/JhPGugA1d1w/s1600/skateboarding_fail-13343.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-43004099718491929312014-07-22T22:58:00.000-05:002014-07-22T23:04:00.269-05:00Lawn Care, Sweating, and Overflowing Sinks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xgvr-2gYiE/U88xhtb2_ZI/AAAAAAAACdc/MnZyrzdI8wY/s1600/sweat+kournikova.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bW08dYz4HGM/U88v5Ipj83I/AAAAAAAACdI/fwVgo7bvFEw/s1600/bagworm-infestation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bW08dYz4HGM/U88v5Ipj83I/AAAAAAAACdI/fwVgo7bvFEw/s1600/bagworm-infestation.jpg" height="400" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <strong><span style="font-size: small;">Bagworm bong party!</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Friday I was standing in the parking lot talking to a coworker. Suddenly I realized that I had left my cell phone sitting on my desk inside. Being a runner, or so I tell people, I tried to jog into the building to grab my phone and then jog back to continue talking to my coworker. Can you believe that as I jogged to the door I could feel both of my calves wanting to cramp and pull? I'm serious. What kind of runner can't even jog across a parking lot without a major injury??<br />
<br />
I have a neighbor who for reasons which are hard to explain decided to spray the bushes and trees on the south side of my lawn with poison. The resulting damage to the tree nearly killed it. All the leaves curled up and died. Then bore worms drilled into the tree starting at the top and began literally sucking the life out of it, rapidly working their way down the trunk towards the roots. I dumped a can of fertilizer at the base of the tree, ground up aspirin and dumped it at the base, and then hosed the tree with insecticide to try to kill the borers. I finally had to hack the top off the tree, leaving a big stump and a few straggled branches alive, just to stop those boring futhermuckers from devouring the entire tree. So far it has survived, but just barely.<br />
<br />
Near the tree is an evergreen bush. I hadn't noticed any problems with the bush until just this week. It steadily turned brown all the way around, starting at the back and working around the bush to the front. By the time I went to investigate what was happening to the bush it had become infested with the most bagworms that I have ever seen. There are so many bagworms on this bush that they have knocked each other off the branches, leaving piles of bagworms on the ground deep enough that I could shovel them up if I were so inclined. I bought a giant bottle of Sevin and hosed that sucker until the bagworms were forced to put on swim trunks and snorkels. I did this 3 nights in a row after work. <br />
<br />
Then I noticed that the 'burning bushes' in front of my house were all dead looking. I don't think my neighbor did this one. These stupid bushes have done this 2 years in a row. I can't remember what I had to do last year to save them, so already having the bottle of Sevin on the hose, I soaked them with it. THEN I examined them. This neighborhood has some sort of fungus curse. I don't know what the deal is, but when I moved in every plant had this nasty gray fungus killing absolutely everything. I had to drown all plants with fungicide just to save them. That was years ago. When I examined the Burning Bushes I saw that stupid fungus on them again. So I mixed up and fungicide and sprayed them down top to bottom. <br />
<br />
I know what you're thinking right now. Yes, this has got to be the most boring post I have ever written. Patience!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xgvr-2gYiE/U88xhtb2_ZI/AAAAAAAACdc/MnZyrzdI8wY/s1600/sweat+kournikova.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xgvr-2gYiE/U88xhtb2_ZI/AAAAAAAACdc/MnZyrzdI8wY/s1600/sweat+kournikova.png" height="400" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">It's a tad humid out tonight</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was 7 pm when I went outside to do all these things. The sun was setting already. It was 87 degrees outside. I swear the humidity must be 150%, maybe 200%. Sure, that's technically not possible. But the instant I set foot outside my house I was pouring sweat. And I was already sweating just walking around inside my house while I debated whether to go outside and deal with this crap. Its ridiculous!<br />
<br />
So ... yes, I'm starting a sentence with 'so' .... so after all this poisoning and sweating and cursing I finally came inside the house to shower. My t-shirt was a disaster of sweat, so I threw it into the sink and turned on the faucet to presoak it. I had to start doing this after two of my t-shirts actually molded while sitting in the laundry waiting to be washed because they were so wet with sweat. <br />
<br />
No, I'm totally serious. You think you know humidity? We got your humidity right here, bucko!<br />
<br />
So I threw my t-shirt into the sink, stoppered it, and turned on the faucet to presoak it. Then I jumped into the shower. After showering I turned off the water and stood in the shower drying off. But I could still hear water running. I stood there looking around, worrying that I might have a plumbing issue to deal with on top of everything else. Finally I stepped out of the shower. The faucet at the sink was still running. And the sink, being one of those modern shell-shaped artsy-fartsy things, has no emergency drain hole near the top and so had filled completely up and was overflowing into the floor. The bathroom floor was a swimming pool!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xFdMqZazd9A/U88yZZXuKvI/AAAAAAAACdk/qcRvZMINLsM/s1600/flooded-bathroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xFdMqZazd9A/U88yZZXuKvI/AAAAAAAACdk/qcRvZMINLsM/s1600/flooded-bathroom.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Care for a swim?</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I swam over to the sink and turned off the faucet. Then I started throwing towels frantically onto the floor to soak it up. I ran out of towels pretty quickly, even throwing the towel I had been drying off with into the ocean of sink puke. <br />
<br />
And then I opened the bathroom door. <br />
<br />
The hallway was a lake. I swam across to the linen closet and started yanking out towels, throwing them into the pond that was once my faux hardwood floor. <br />
<br />
Oh, speaking of faux hardwood floors, do you know what happens to laminated cardboard faux hardwood floors when they get soaked like this? Yeah, they ruin. So I was in a panic.<br />
<br />
About this time, my wife came home. She found me standing in a pool in the hallway, towels everywhere, and me stark naked and still dripping wet.<br />
<br />
"What the hell happened?!"<br />
<br />
I can't believe this isn't a Monday. It sure feels like a Monday. It couldn't have been a much worse day. Oh, and my cat has a bladder infection and keeps peeing and peeing and peeing. And the vet can't see her until Friday. So there's THAT.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j8FYa6g0_Lc/U88vSHGX1-I/AAAAAAAACdA/Yj8JQEpYtdM/s1600/calletoilettwo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j8FYa6g0_Lc/U88vSHGX1-I/AAAAAAAACdA/Yj8JQEpYtdM/s1600/calletoilettwo.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Can I pee here?</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-87396289292513939492014-07-15T23:53:00.000-05:002014-07-15T23:53:05.586-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Chariots of Feathers<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ay9PmvOaGNQ/U8YE-IS5yGI/AAAAAAAACco/FV04i6TOJ2Y/s1600/chariot+race.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ay9PmvOaGNQ/U8YE-IS5yGI/AAAAAAAACco/FV04i6TOJ2Y/s1600/chariot+race.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Giddyup!</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-61632419428889577142014-07-11T22:11:00.004-05:002014-07-11T22:11:59.055-05:00Broken Rules<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oq_RBeQXLxw/U8CmQB7FYFI/AAAAAAAACcI/c-Hq3j6aUvY/s1600/calf+sleeve+002+right+leg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oq_RBeQXLxw/U8CmQB7FYFI/AAAAAAAACcI/c-Hq3j6aUvY/s1600/calf+sleeve+002+right+leg.png" height="320" width="254" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So Monday I was all hurt. My right calf was a mess. I even wrote a blog post that was more than just a Wordless Wednesday to tell you all about it. Yep. And I swore I wouldn't run. </div>
<br />
And then on Wednesday I looked in my gym bag and found my calf sleeve and I thought to myself, "I don't want to bike today. I want to run. I wonder ...."<br />
<br />
So I put that sucker on and I ran.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xi6D7-hFczg/U8CnNCsktZI/AAAAAAAACcY/gbRor_n2bq0/s1600/11.22.11_luke_watson_reviews_Clutch_Tights_580_461+crop.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xi6D7-hFczg/U8CnNCsktZI/AAAAAAAACcY/gbRor_n2bq0/s1600/11.22.11_luke_watson_reviews_Clutch_Tights_580_461+crop.png" /></a></div>
<br />
And I had no problems!<br />
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-32293569718503841172014-07-08T23:44:00.000-05:002014-07-08T23:44:07.538-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Tour de France and calf injuriesLately its either been Wordless Wednesday or another post about my latest in a steady stream of injuries. Well, this isn't Wednesday, so ... well, hang on, by the time I post this it'll be Wednesday. OK, I'll combine the two then. Here's a photo:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zUOdia5GBM/U7zDYLStc3I/AAAAAAAACZc/7iGLXmS9KhM/s1600/Bike-Stunt-Fail-Fork-Party-500x375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zUOdia5GBM/U7zDYLStc3I/AAAAAAAACZc/7iGLXmS9KhM/s1600/Bike-Stunt-Fail-Fork-Party-500x375.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
And now for the latest injury update. Monday I got back on my horse, er, treadmill and went for a run. This time I started off slowly and walked steadily faster for the first half mile before breaking into a run. This is how I had been doing it before while training for the Cotton Row. I'd slowly speed up, making sure my body was thoroughly warmed up and then break into a run. After breaking into a slow run I'd continue speeding up until I reached a speed I felt comfortable with. It was when I sped up this process that I injured my formerly healthy right calf. <br />
<br />
OK, so I walked faster and faster for the first half mile. Then I started into a slow run. It was SO boring. I admit, I punched the accelerate button on the treadmill more frequently than I had while preparing for the Cotton Row. I would run at a speed for maybe .15 of a mile and then speed up one notch. I reached a speed of around 10 minutes per mile, which is not fast or competitive by anyone's measure who isn't in a wheelchair or on crutches. I held it there, trying to focus on my form and not injuring anything. That didn't last long.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--IVy8_euYQU/U7zIc7T-QvI/AAAAAAAACbk/DRt--ph615E/s1600/65d8391c8cab553f26015d5f4f38bdfb-bicycle-on-a-treadmill-fail.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--IVy8_euYQU/U7zIc7T-QvI/AAAAAAAACbk/DRt--ph615E/s1600/65d8391c8cab553f26015d5f4f38bdfb-bicycle-on-a-treadmill-fail.gif" height="320" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
At about the 1.5 mile mark my right calf suddenly felt ... weird. I don't know how to explain it. It felt like it was about to cramp. I quickly jumped off the treadmill. A guy on the elliptical who had been working steadily away when I came in and was still going suddenly shouted at me, "come on, keep it going!" He was kidding, but I really did want to take his advice and jump back on again. I told him I had a calf injury and I was worried about what was going on down there. I stretched a little and then tried getting back on. It still felt weird. And I was worried. It wasn't screaming "I'M HURT, YOU IDIOT" but it was definitely saying <em>something</em>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgWBSpiqw6U/U7zHj-mHnnI/AAAAAAAACbY/2wQ2vsYn_Ws/s1600/fail-in-bicycle-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgWBSpiqw6U/U7zHj-mHnnI/AAAAAAAACbY/2wQ2vsYn_Ws/s1600/fail-in-bicycle-o.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I jumped off again. I slowed the speed a bit and tried jogging along. No good. Something was off with my injured calf. It was warning me that it was about to blow again. So I slowed the treadmill to a fast walk speed and tried that. Nope, no go. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKNYjc531y3nJLfTWPI2nhsXPAgL3X3C8EQYXD-Esio_wvdx77Ku4XN5JweDQoJ909yrmpriSwaFsqmFcFFDHcQXojTYqed0THoAqRkDzxkNPsl2595xiF19DeZBfFi7IXyvqyX3nOaB1/s1600/determination-bike-fail-funny-demotivational-poster-1260398623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKNYjc531y3nJLfTWPI2nhsXPAgL3X3C8EQYXD-Esio_wvdx77Ku4XN5JweDQoJ909yrmpriSwaFsqmFcFFDHcQXojTYqed0THoAqRkDzxkNPsl2595xiF19DeZBfFi7IXyvqyX3nOaB1/s1600/determination-bike-fail-funny-demotivational-poster-1260398623.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I shut off the treadmill and started walking carefully around the gym. I stretched and stretched my calf. Nothing doing. It was warning me to lay off. So I, being stubborn, started doing calf raises. I wasn't leaping and hopping like a moonshadow or anything, but I did them slow and steady. It really didn't seem to hurt anything. After 3 sets I stretched thoroughly and climbed onto the stationary bike. I rapid pedaled 2 miles and then called it quits. I know that 2 miles on a bike isn't much, but I was pretty preoccupied with my calf problem and it wasn't as if we had the Tour de France going on the TV. If we had then I'd have ridden a lot more. That thing is addictive. I was watching it the other night. Several other nights, too, actually. Those guys are drug-abusing performance machines! Anyway, enough about French cyclists on drugs. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YZW2lX1_kBE/U7zEWnaktQI/AAAAAAAACZ0/N7bYVQC1ngU/s1600/3891256283_8706a1c4a9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YZW2lX1_kBE/U7zEWnaktQI/AAAAAAAACZ0/N7bYVQC1ngU/s1600/3891256283_8706a1c4a9.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Mais non</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The guy on the elliptical was still pumping along when I stretched a final time and headed out the door. At home I guzzled a giant protein shake and showered. That night I iced the crap out of my calf again. Today it feels mostly OK. I'm not limping and it isn't hurting. But I know I won't be running tomorrow. Most likely I'll have to bike it. Maybe I can find the Tour de France on the TV this time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xG8Ib_MBsXU/U7zD9qqs82I/AAAAAAAACZk/IbMfyIGXcn0/s1600/bike-fail7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xG8Ib_MBsXU/U7zD9qqs82I/AAAAAAAACZk/IbMfyIGXcn0/s1600/bike-fail7.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YZW2lX1_kBE/U7zEWnaktQI/AAAAAAAACZ0/N7bYVQC1ngU/s1600/3891256283_8706a1c4a9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-meogBIJpJRo/U7zEYJjeqxI/AAAAAAAACZ8/W0aIs8HD3uM/s1600/Bike_Fail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-32226903508930231792014-07-02T00:30:00.000-05:002014-07-02T00:30:01.059-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Duck!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wpdo_qD2fLA/U7IkAbErC7I/AAAAAAAACZM/lPLQW9HD5ZM/s1600/Perfect-Timing-Photos-050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wpdo_qD2fLA/U7IkAbErC7I/AAAAAAAACZM/lPLQW9HD5ZM/s1600/Perfect-Timing-Photos-050.jpg" height="640" width="500" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-45324279422291062652014-06-25T22:00:00.002-05:002014-06-25T22:00:32.016-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Horsing Around<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuEP0iK7nbwwCy4hmN_iZDWHE-ATSh9Mcatw_TKWb7OtHKSXrNIQoFY3AowCvQ1M2ZtF-C7HY59n1AB-IpKhF-DaolQtBn2AmhtDL__4ZT0R53bcFbnLZP5YT7ujpCmx6SMzhsA9qcQMm/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuEP0iK7nbwwCy4hmN_iZDWHE-ATSh9Mcatw_TKWb7OtHKSXrNIQoFY3AowCvQ1M2ZtF-C7HY59n1AB-IpKhF-DaolQtBn2AmhtDL__4ZT0R53bcFbnLZP5YT7ujpCmx6SMzhsA9qcQMm/s1600/download.jpg" height="328" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-74393243037915751802014-06-19T05:30:00.000-05:002014-06-19T21:53:51.687-05:00Argh!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBUr4ct8GVo/U6JTP7MBDrI/AAAAAAAACXQ/9tLAZjbbvcQ/s1600/_39995596_hayes_getty300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBUr4ct8GVo/U6JTP7MBDrI/AAAAAAAACXQ/9tLAZjbbvcQ/s1600/_39995596_hayes_getty300.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Monday I returned to running again. In fact, I had a phenomenal run on Monday. I ran faster than I have all year. And I felt great. What a surprisingly good Monday!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2IAjOuwggC0/U6JUPXx2SKI/AAAAAAAACXc/Nsq77MoMS2M/s1600/Treadmill2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2IAjOuwggC0/U6JUPXx2SKI/AAAAAAAACXc/Nsq77MoMS2M/s1600/Treadmill2.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Wednesday was a great beginning. I started my warm-up. The guy I've been running with, more or less, never warms up. He jumps on the treadmill and cranks it up to his top speed. Then he just runs at that speed for 3 miles. Wa-la, he's done. I have this long, careful process I always go through where I slowly build up speed, from fast walking to a jog to finally working my way up to my actual intended speed.<br />
<br />
Ah, but not today. Today I felt great. Especially after Monday's awesome run. So today I jumped on my treadmill and started walking. The other guy jumped on his treadmill and cranked up the motor, running flat out. I rapidly skipped past the fast walking to a slow run. But I was bumping up against the handle already. This was too slow.<br />
<br />
So I sped up. I sped up to the top speed I ran on Monday. Yay me. This was going well!<br />
<br />
I ran at a good solid speed for 1.33 miles. I felt great. A little stiff, but mostly great.<br />
<br />
Then my calf pulled.<br />
<br />
Oh no, not the left calf, the calf I've injured and reinjured over and over. No, this was the right calf. This was the only calf I have been able to rely on year after year while the left calf was a constant problem.<br />
<br />
As soon as I felt the pain I leaped off the treadmill. I stretched and limped around the gym. I stretched some more. I used the rollers on a lower back machine to work my calf like a massage roller. I stretched some more. No good. It's hurt.<br />
<br />
Dammit.<div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-11255121789004496282014-06-18T01:00:00.000-05:002014-06-18T01:00:08.025-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Your date is here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ttXQ7BkP5DU/U6DrPjniX5I/AAAAAAAACWQ/gn8Z8XKpTrI/s1600/5-1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ttXQ7BkP5DU/U6DrPjniX5I/AAAAAAAACWQ/gn8Z8XKpTrI/s1600/5-1200.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-6419804539551214552014-06-11T00:26:00.000-05:002014-06-11T00:26:00.044-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Cheese<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dsNFgAxQtGc/U5e-P4tVvOI/AAAAAAAACV8/bpMxfQWleKM/s1600/2006_big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dsNFgAxQtGc/U5e-P4tVvOI/AAAAAAAACV8/bpMxfQWleKM/s1600/2006_big.jpg" height="400" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Smile for the camera!</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-50016311703837321582014-05-27T23:36:00.001-05:002014-05-27T23:36:47.443-05:00Cotton Row Run 2014Race day has come and gone. I ran it yesterday. It was a hot and humid day. I had set small goals for this race. I had good reasons for that with my recent record of injuries. Even so, I was somewhat disappointed.<br />
<br />
After 2 straight years of limping across the finish line of the Cotton Row's 5K race with a painfully shredded calf muscle I was encouraged by people close to me to lower my goals here and simply try to finish this event without any injuries. That includes all my training and the race itself since both previous years I was injured while training and had to focus on rehabbing the injury enough to be able to race at all instead of working on improving my speed and time. The results were embarrassing race times of over 30 minutes for a 3.1 mile race. For a person who has never run competitively that might be a time they can accept. For me it is humiliating.<br />
<br />
The Cotton Row Run was started as a 10K race, 6.2 miles of Alabama heat and asphalt, with an obstacle they call "heart attack hill" thrown in somewhere between miles 3 and 4 just for fun. At some point, with the rising popularity of 5K races, they shifted the 10K race back an hour to 7 am and added a 5K race at 9 am. When I was young I ran the 10K and was competitive in terms of my times. But even then, had they fired their starting gun at 7 am I wouldn't have been there in time to compete. I'm no morning person, never was and never will be. So these days the 10K is out of the question for me. As injury-prone as I am at 9 am I would be worse if I tried to run while barely awake and poorly warmed-up at 7 am. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I don't want to summarize this race for a third time. I wrote about as many details of the race as I could recall in 2012 and 2013. It's hot. There are a number of annoyingly selfish participants who get in the front of the starting line and walk when the starting gun sounds. They walk in the middle of the road, blocking all the runners just like I'm sure they drive in the passing lane at excessively slow speeds and refuse to get over or let anyone by. Each year these narcissistic 'runners' have increased in number and selfishness. This year was the worst. At one point 5 girls stood shoulder to shoulder all the way across the road blocking the entire course. Real runners started abandoning the street and running on the sidewalks. That is technically against the rules, but if the race officials aren't going to enforce their own rules against blocking runners and all that they clearly aren't going to enforce rules against leaving the course and running down the sidewalks. Eventually all the real runners were streaming down either side of the course on the sidewalks while the narcissistic obstructionists were in the center of the road, blocking everyone. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nyNpX_GNWtM/U4VY_R1gl6I/AAAAAAAACUw/VT5lOHPK0pg/s1600/Cotton+Row+Run+5K+2014+001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nyNpX_GNWtM/U4VY_R1gl6I/AAAAAAAACUw/VT5lOHPK0pg/s1600/Cotton+Row+Run+5K+2014+001.png" height="395" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Let's get in the middle of the race course and walk</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At one point I had a woman race up to get next to me, then jam her shoulder in front of me to block me from passing her. I sped up, stepped around her and got ahead. She sped up and jammed her shoulder in again. She did this 3 times. Finally, I put my hand up to stiff arm her away from me, but she fell back and was never able to catch up with me again. You can maneuver to block runners in a track meet, but in a friendly 5K race with a full street you are not allowed to do that crap. She was unfortunately what I'm increasingly seeing among the up and coming generation of 'entitled' runners. I quit soccer due to injuries and people like her. I noticed that this year's Cotton Row Run had the fewest runners I've ever seen this year in both events, the 10K and the 5K. I'm wondering if more real runners are quitting this race for the same reason - selfish pricks who would rather hurt others than compete. <br />
<br />
My first mile split time was 10:30. That was the pace I had planned to run. It was slower than my previous 2 years, but I was trying a new strategy. My second mile split was 21 something. I don't recall, but it was right on schedule. I was trying to conserve energy and avoid injury prior to the third mile. I hoped that by doing this I would have more energy to speed up on the final mile and sprint the final stretch and across the finish line. This is how I used to run. I always had a last burst of energy for the final 100 yards. Of course, I often puked as I crossed the finish line, but my times were good and it was working for me. My final mile was often my fastest. I was also relatively injury-free, which helped. This year I hoped to get back to that strategy again. <br />
<br />
I trained for this race for about 6 weeks, running 3 and 4 times per week. Several times I came extremely close to a serious injury, usually involving my calf and once, just last week, involving my hamstring. I started off blasting into my training, focusing on speed work and expecting to simply work up to the distance as I went. But with so many close calls I was encouraged to lower my expectations. Several people suggested that I simply aim to finish this race without being injured. I don't know if I made the right decision or not, but I decided to listen to them. I stopped doing speed work and simply ran my distance with a steady increase in speed until I reached the pace I wanted to run the entire race at, and then held it there to the end for each workout. This seemed like a safe way to train. Given enough time I think it could work. Maybe. Either way, one thing I know for sure is that I wasn't even going to show up to the starting line if I was already injured on race day like I was the past 2 years.<br />
<br />
It was hot. During the 10K race the sky was cloudy and the sun was blocked. This helped keep things cooler, not that it was comfortable exactly. But by 9 am at the start of the 5K race the clouds were clearing out. We had full sun. It quickly got hot. The weather channel says it was 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I don't know the humidity level, but it was unpleasant. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmfYoEDLI4s/U4VbC2p6qsI/AAAAAAAACU8/JkEuW2oyD6U/s1600/Cotton+Row+Run+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmfYoEDLI4s/U4VbC2p6qsI/AAAAAAAACU8/JkEuW2oyD6U/s1600/Cotton+Row+Run+011.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">This was NOT how it looked when I got to the water station</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
One thing I did during this race, which I can't explain exactly, was a big mistake. I don't know what I was thinking. After mile 1 there was a water station. With all the obstructionists on the course, they stopped at these water stations, took a cup of water, and stood there in the way so other runners couldn't get water. So when I came to the first water station, I had to stop, reach over someone standing in the way, and grab a cup of water. At that point I was at a dead stop, not running at all. I sipped my water as I walked away from the crowd of people standing around the water station. Yes, walked. I sipped only what I needed, then dumped the rest over my head, and began running again. I did this again at the 2nd water station, coming to a complete stop in order to get to the water. I've never done this before, stopping and then walking for a period before running on. I don't know how to explain why I did it this year when I had no injury and could have potentially run a quicker time than the past 2 years. I wasted probably a full minute doing this. <br />
<br />
Up ahead of me a runner suffered heat stroke. People said he came down the final stretch flopping all over like a rag doll. He wobbled and stumbled and weaved and teetered with a wild look on his face. When he crossed the finish line 2 paramedics caught him just as he collapsed. <br />
<br />
On the third mile I was feeling the heat. I was a lot more tired than I should have been considering I wasn't running an exceptionally fast pace up to that point. I was starting to droop, feeling my back weakening and encouraging me to lean forward. My form was breaking. There are no real hills of any significance on the 5K course, just little inclines here and there along the way. By the third mile those little inclines were straining me. This was the point where I had planned to be stretching out my stride, speeding up ever so slightly, and cutting at least a full minute off my mile pace, if not two or three. <br />
<br />
It wasn't happening. I felt as if I was holding my pace well enough, perhaps slowing just a bit, but not too bad. My first mile was a 10:30. My second nearly a flat 10. If my third mile matched my first I should still be able to shoot for a 31 minute time. It'd be 1 minute and 1 second too slow, but still better than my worst time, which was 33:15 two years ago in the 2012 Cotton Row. My second worst time was 31 flat in last year's Cotton Row, so it wasn't looking good for me even equaling that anymore. And forget about my goal of coming in under 30 minutes. <br />
<br />
I spent the last mile struggling to hold my form, control my breathing, and try my best to at least hold my speed when I felt like slowing down. I should have been going faster, but it just wasn't happening. At the final tenth of a mile I kicked it up with what little I had left. I stretched out my stride and 'sprinted' across the finish line. I didn't even bother looking at the clock. I knew my time was crap. I just didn't know how bad it was yet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
The race organizers seemed to take forever to finally post my time up on the wall. I almost wished they hadn't. It was an all-time slow 33:45, my worst ever.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O76Uglieme4/U4Vj7jaUFQI/AAAAAAAACVM/4Pb-ziyLgm4/s1600/runner-down-tired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O76Uglieme4/U4Vj7jaUFQI/AAAAAAAACVM/4Pb-ziyLgm4/s1600/runner-down-tired.jpg" height="216" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Epic Fail</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All I can say about this race is that I achieved my revised goal - I finished the race uninjured. I'm not sure if it was worth it or not. Even limping so badly that I didn't think I could run the last mile I ran a 31:00 last year. Maybe I just run better when I'm hurt?<br />
<br />
My training goals for this race were too conservative. Aiming for a negative goal like not getting injured encourages you to hold back when you should be pushing harder. Somewhere in the middle should be my training target - not too aggressive and not too conservative, not insane and not completely lame. Basically I need to be pushing it hard, but not so hard that I get injured. <br />
<br />
I'm supposed to run again tomorrow. I think after this disaster I'm going to have to pick up the pace and find me another race to run to see if I can redeem myself before the summer is over. The only other race I'm signed up for at the moment is the Warrior Dash, and Lord knows that isn't going to be a race time I can do anything with. Besides the uniqueness of the course, it recently involved killer hills that are a completely different challenge for me, one that I want to beat this time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZd1OGnE-jM/U4VnQ9keBBI/AAAAAAAACVY/JRNDj-GV8wY/s1600/training-running-up-hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZd1OGnE-jM/U4VnQ9keBBI/AAAAAAAACVY/JRNDj-GV8wY/s1600/training-running-up-hill.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-73292870092915723042014-05-21T04:34:00.000-05:002014-05-21T04:34:00.476-05:00Wordless Wednesday - Fail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcdfZcHkhFYS8X52qXPiKKvyJTh5JS3GrcW57xv2RLn5h8UyLYfBClQPuxeEzts-ubaYJrZz4GCsSkvvId0-64OxeoNxDloTB9skTAxRxvJcsdb0z30y-hXp1WGkfQv6a7RSUPKhThl18/s1600/fail+hurder.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcdfZcHkhFYS8X52qXPiKKvyJTh5JS3GrcW57xv2RLn5h8UyLYfBClQPuxeEzts-ubaYJrZz4GCsSkvvId0-64OxeoNxDloTB9skTAxRxvJcsdb0z30y-hXp1WGkfQv6a7RSUPKhThl18/s1600/fail+hurder.gif" height="256" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4460112716941617007.post-28152109274413299472014-05-19T21:50:00.001-05:002014-05-19T21:50:37.009-05:001 Week to Race DayWith only one week to go until the Cotton Row Run I've been trying to keep my training light, with minimal risk for injury. Today I ran the usual 3 miles at a cautious pace. I steadily sped up until the end, as usual. Everything was fine until the last half mile. As is apparently typical of my luck, suddenly my hamstring started to tighten up. I had wanted to go faster, but my hamstring kept getting tighter and my low back stiffened up, too. I almost stopped running early just to make SURE I didn't pull my hamstring.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U5XRLPNRL7M/U3rB0XKJe9I/AAAAAAAACTA/asVnWCwj7hA/s1600/Sport-Physiotherapy-Perth-for-Hamstring-Injury.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U5XRLPNRL7M/U3rB0XKJe9I/AAAAAAAACTA/asVnWCwj7hA/s1600/Sport-Physiotherapy-Perth-for-Hamstring-Injury.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I finished my 3 miles and immediately slowed down, did my cool down, and stretched my hamstrings, lower back and calves. As I walked across the parking lot to my car I could feel my damn hamstring tweaking the entire way. I ended up limping to the car. It doesn't even feel like I ever really pulled it. It never popped or screamed or burned and tore. It just tightened. It tightened until I was limping, which is pretty much what an injury looks like.<br />
<br />
So I'm home now. I drank my protein and various other recovery-oriented chemicals. I massaged the hamstring. And I've got an ice pack under both hamstrings. I realize only one of them is hurt, but with my luck I figure there's no point in taking any chances. I'm icing them both.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ae9j0gH5jP4/U3rCq3J_cPI/AAAAAAAACTM/ircdteSRG50/s1600/Maya-Rudolph-Show-Cast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ae9j0gH5jP4/U3rCq3J_cPI/AAAAAAAACTM/ircdteSRG50/s1600/Maya-Rudolph-Show-Cast.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Mayo Rudolph Show</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Other than that tremendously exciting new, I'm watching the Maya Rudolph Show, which is brand new. It appears to be a modern version of the old Carol Burnett Show, but she's got a lot of super talented people so it just might work. Well, except there's way too much singing. Speaking of all the singing, Kristin Bell is on the show and she can sing like crazy. I mean, she's honestly incredibly good.<br />
<br />
So that's really all I have to say for now. My hamstring appears to be very close to injured. I guess I'll know for sure tomorrow when I try to get out of bed. Until then, I think I'll Google Kristen Bell for awhile and see where it takes me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_jTKp8fpQdo/U3rA-JvWylI/AAAAAAAACS4/Z8fhnDBW-tA/s1600/tumblr_lyne34XhXz1qazkdco1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_jTKp8fpQdo/U3rA-JvWylI/AAAAAAAACS4/Z8fhnDBW-tA/s1600/tumblr_lyne34XhXz1qazkdco1_500.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">If my life could find a way to suck any worse, it probably will.</div>Emilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18243427784399799169noreply@blogger.com0