Frosting.

So, yeah. Things have been happening. I didn't think it was possible to be hurting more than I already was, but then some stuff happened, and I said to myself, "Self, your life is ridiculous sometimes."

I'll handle it. I'm pretty good at handling ridiculousness.

Anyway, that leads to my lack of posting lately. I started taking yoga at this place near my house, and discovered that I am hilarious when attempting to bend in ways that my body does not want to bend. The instructor doesn't seem to find it as funny, but I like her because she constantly makes me try different poses even when I'm scared. I'm doing a trial membership right now, and plan to take advantage of trial memberships all over town to see which yoga studio I like best. I think it might be a good thing to pursue when it's cold and snowing outside.

I ran a local 5K, and while it wasn't my best time ever, it also wasn't my worst. I was proud of myself because I sprinted the last little bit and passed a couple people. I did the best that I could, and that makes me happy.

Hood to Coast = ridiculous. If only I felt like publicizing to the Internet the goings on of my life, you would probably all say to me that I'm silly for running Hood to Coast when I had so much going on, but it was a really good distraction. I spent two days locked in a van (with some close friends, but also some strangers). I ran 17 miles in less than 24 hours. I slept in a field because that's what people do... It was an odd 197 miles. Kind of like what I imagine Woodstock was like, but with a bunch of crazy runners instead of drugs, nudity, and music. So really not like Woodstock at all.

My favorite leg was the middle leg. The first one was hot, flat, and boring for 6 miles. The last leg was hot, hilly, and sucked cause I was exhausted and was ready to be done. The middle leg was 7 miles, and I ran them at 3 a.m. through the middle of a pitch black forest. Particularly creepy because all that I had was a head lamp, reflective vest, and flashy lights on either side and at times I was the only person on the road and no vans were passing by. I also tripped in a pothole, nearly fell off the road into the ditch, and was very close to being hit by a car which I suspect was being driven by a drunk driver. Luckily I am excellent at regaining my balance due to my habit of falling down a lot. Also, a handsome man grabbed me out of the way of the drunk driver (if you're reading this, cute guy that runs faster than me, you should call me. We could go out to dinner and not get hit by cars together. Sounds magical, right?) and I did not die.

Some photo goodness:





Hood to Coast people have this habit of calling people "roadkill" when they pass them, and keeping track of their "roadkill count" and let me just tell you... I was roadkill a lot. Those Hood to Coast people don't mess around. We're talking 7 minute miles. On my middle of the night leg, there was a clearing where people were gathered to cheer on their teams, and when I arrived at that point the teams started chanting, "Kill her! Kill her!" as the girl behind me was trying to pass me. I totally hauled ass and avoided her... until we got past the clearing and no one could see us. Holy hell, she was fast.

So, yes, I did not die. Also, recently Shawna and I went on a road trip to Tour de Fat in Boise and I went out in public looking like this:



Luckily it was a drunken bicycle parade, so people didn't really care. And yes, I rode a bicycle wearing that. What?

For some reason, when I am as down as I have been the past couple days, baking makes me feel better. So yesterday I made gingerbread cupcakes with buttercream frosting and tiny gingerbread men on top. I didn't really want to eat them, I just wanted to make something. And frosting makes me happy, in all it's fluffy glory.

I'm pretty convinced that all of life's problems can be solved with frosting.

One Month Later

So, a month ago today, I had my heart broken.

I really thought I would be feeling much better at this point. When does that get to happen?

Last night, in attempt to keep my mind off things, I went to a 75 minute power yoga class wherein I accomplished the crow pose for the first time. I followed that up with running for over an hour. It didn't really keep my mind off things, but at least I wasn't on the couch, right?

A girl can only listen to so much Kelly Clarkson. Seriously though, that woman knows what she's talking about.

It sucks that I believed things that turned out not to be true. It really sucks that I let someone have my whole heart and they decided to toss me aside. I know that everyone else has been in this same spot, but it doesn't make me feel any better right now, when I can't stop crying randomly because the guy I thought I would spend my life with hurt me this much. Everyone keeps telling me I deserve better, and that I'll find a guy who will appreciate how awesome I am, but right now I don't believe that.

I'm trying to be myself again, but it's proving to be more difficult than I thought. I feel like everyone expects me to be happy-go-lucky and cracking jokes and being a smart ass like normal, but I just don't feel like myself since this happened. It really came out of the blue for me, and it hit me hard.

At least I still have my running shoes. And Kelly Clarkson.

Things about which I have been meaning to blog:

1. I started taking Bikram yoga classes. Hilarity has ensued.

2. I've discovered my mission in life, and it is to join the roller derby and knock bitches out.

3. I have every intention of taking an aerobic hula hooping class.

4. Moving out of a small town and into a "big" city has made my life so much more interesting!

5. My new job makes my brain hurt a little, and sometimes I feel like my brain is oozing out of my ear cause there is so much information to retain.

6. It snowed yesterday.

Progress and Motivation

We made it to yoga successfully today. It was actually a really nice class—conveniently they have yoga classes for free near our office every Wednesday, so my coworker and I will definitely be going back. My prior yoga experience involved a class with a crazy woman who made us do sun salutations in rapid succession while making strange growling/breathing noises. It tended to leave me stressed out rather than relaxed, so I was quite happy to discover that these classes left me feeling very well stretched and content while still feeling very productive.

Shawna and I are going to be completing the Breast Cancer Awareness 30 Minute Challenge through Elastic Waist—woo hoo! I keep trying to recruit people to do it with me… I may have one follower so far. Also, I know I have at least two people who are doing the Hundred Pushup Challenge.

Speaking of which, pushups are hard. I may need to repeat week two because the seven required pushups at the end of my pushups last night were crazy hard. I’m doing real pushups rather than girly pushups and I think that may have been too ambitious. We shall see! Regardless, I DID do seven pushups in succession and when I started this I could only do five, so that’s progress, right?

Half marathon training continues to be difficult. A lot of that is due to the fact that its getting crazy cold outside already, but luckily yesterday I discovered a wonderful secret: two sports bras at once. The girls had been having some warmth issues. Earlier today I mentioned to a friend that half marathon training kind of makes me want to die sometimes (I didn’t mean that as a bad thing, as when I describe something as “making me want to die” it generally means that it’s crazy hard and therefore leaves me feeling very fulfilled when I’m done) and she made a comment that perhaps buying new running shoes would motivate me. I was surprised, and didn’t know how to respond, because I don’t think I lack motivation at all. It left me wondering, do my self-deprecating comments make it seem that way? Does something else about me make it seem like I’m not motivated?

I had a conversation about running with Shawna the other day when I told her that running made me want to die all the time when I first started—that’s kind of why I liked it, cause I figure it at least gave me a chance to celebrate each time that I completed a run and was still alive. I still get that feeling of happiness to be finished, but now I don’t find running as painful while it is in progress. The first mile or two is always the worst, and after that I tend to find it relaxing and even, dare I say it, enjoyable at times. Sure, it is challenging, but I’ve reached the point of finding pleasure and enjoyment in running about 90 percent of the time. The remaining 10 percent is reserved for runs where I am just miserable because sometimes that happens regardless of how much ass I kick. Usually on Mondays.

So, sure, half marathon training sometimes makes me want to die. It’s hard to increase my endurance and complete the necessary running each week. Sometimes it makes me sore and tired and cold and cranky. But if I lacked motivation, wouldn’t it keep me from putting my sneakers on and getting my butt out the door? Isn’t it the most difficult things in life that prove most worthwhile?

Perhaps what I should learn from this conversation is to quit whining. Pshaw, what's the fun in that?

I seem to lack dedication...

Me to Coworker: I think I should try to abstain from diet coke for a month. Seriously, I think I have a problem. Also, from having outbursts of rage. That’s a good plan—no diet coke and no rage for one month.

Five minutes later…

Coworker: (mentions so-and-so)
Me: He’s such a douchebag. Oh my gosh, I really hate him right now. (pause) Dude, I just failed so badly. That was literally a few minutes into my month of no rage and I had an outburst of rage just cause you mentioned his name. But I’m still going to give up diet coke!

I swear I’m not an angry person, there are only about three people in the world who bring that out in me. Haha.

Tomorrow… adventures in yoga! Assuming the class isn’t cancelled again.

Also, holy crap, I am excited that this blog was linked from Back in Skinny Jeans partly just cause I love that blog, and also cause we had the first ever comment on here today from someone other than people I know. Hurray!

Update and random photo fun

So yoga didn't happen. Turns out the class was canceled, but I have to applaud us for actually showing up since we've been saying to each other, "Hey, we should go to yoga during the lunch hour on Wednesdays" for about six months and haven't ever gone before. Ha. Anyhow, we fully plan to go next Wednesday, and hopefully hilarity really will ensue. Today we just went for a lunchtime power walk instead, but it wasn't particularly hilarious.

In other news, I have to work this evening, which I didn't know and that makes me moderately sad. Luckily today is a cross training day instead of a running day, cause nothing makes me crankier than having to either skip my run or run in the dark, let me tell you. Tonight shall instead be spent elliptical-izing while watching "Bones." Pretty sure I should stop watching that show though, cause I had a dream about cannibalism the other day and that just can't be normal.

The random photo fun is this: the other day I logged onto Facebook to put up photos from my birthday (which seriously was pretty kickass... 10K awesomeness complete with friends to cheer me on at the finish, then Oktoberfest fun whereupon I joined in a rousing version of the chicken dance while completely sober). Anyway, oddly enough on that very day an old exchange student buddy decided to put up an album of photos from three years ago when she visited me. She's from Iceland and came to visit for my 21st birthday. She tagged me in them so it showed up on my profile. I clicked over to them and it went a little something like this:
"OMFG--DUDE. That is the UGLIEST PICTURE OF ME EVER. Who took that? They need to be punched in the face. OMG AND SHE TAGGED ME! People will SEE THIS!"

I'm sure we've all had Facebook photo moments like this. Anyway, I didn't remove the tag, but I did delete the thing off my profile that says I was tagged. It isn't so much that I was 65 pounds heavier (or 55, or whatever the heck the difference is between now and then) but that there are some seriously ugly pictures of me. And for some reason it bothers me to think that people will see these photos of me and agree that I look ugly. And then I'm annoyed at myself for thinking that, cause who the crap cares? Anyway, I do not look good from this angle, let it be noted:


As a comparison, just for kicks, here are a couple photos of me from this year's birthday... do I look older?


Here is a random one of me being politically enthusiastic:


Why yes, that is a plastic wand in my hand. It also lights up. Birthdays are cool.