July 30, 2006
r you happy
more beautiful spam:
Subject: r you happy
Date: Wednesday 26 July 2006 6:14 am
To: "Nishu" [some email address I've never heard of]
Think your still inquiring on getting the stuff for your suffering, come by
http://www.backingtoyounow.org/qg/ Quick. forgot,
they also retain the slashed pricing still.
the immediate vicinity of effort camp.
before park the then doorway.
as Lys Open Day called it.
The CC list had email addresses after each friendly name. My email address came after "Vasilis." Why not "Rube," I wonder.
"the immediate vicinity of effort camp." God.
July 29, 2006
someday we'll be dignified and old
running week is done:
Su: 15.27mi (8:25)
M: 6.25mi (8:53)
T: PM 6.91mi incl 4x400m hill repeats (supposed to be 10), bailed in the heat
W: AM 13mi (9:06), PM 4mi easy (untimed) with running-club pals
R: 12mi incl 5 miles tempo: 6:58,33,36,38,36
F:10.38mi (9:49), dig that blistering pace
Sa: AM 9.75mi (9:20), PM 3.25mi (8:51)
total: 80.8 miles
I wasn't pleased with Tuesday night's bridge repeats, but the heat was too much even for this Floridian, and there was no choice but to bail. I was much happier with Thursday's tempo. For one thing, I didn't bail. For another, unless the GPS is seriously fucked, my tempo pace is getting faster. The rest of the week was just slow sloggy running.
the worst two weeks of my life are also done. Last night was the dreaded showake for my friend. There were hundreds of people there, many I hadn't seen in years and will probably never see again. They played a photo-slideshow which I didn't watch, but whose soundtrack caught me totally off guard and had me bawling uncontrollably in public, which I absolutely hate to do. Otherwise, it was surprisingly non-awful. Someone said to my husband that we should do this once a year or so, for someone who's still alive.
This afternoon was the formal service, which was actually worse than I thought the wake would be. It was very small, with just family and a few close friends. The service lasted all of 2 minutes, and then one of the friends got up to say a few words, about 20 minutes' worth. Meanwhile another friend began to succumb to grief and the 96F heat, but the eulogy went on. The service ended with the Lord's Prayer and the priest saying "You are dismissed," but it didn't feel finished, at least not like it did last night. Anyway, I was grateful to be asked to such a small service, painful and sad as it was.
Of course I don't mean that all the hurt and pain and guilt and crap is over, but the stuff that had to be done is done now. I have the rest of my life to sort this out, or not. And now I know where his grave is, so I can bring flowers and whatnot sometime.
July 27, 2006
Duncan Larkin is my hero
It's been an alright couple of days, relatively speaking. Things have started to catch my interest. I look for (and find) more things to do at work and otherwise, and it seems I've just gotten up when it's time to go to sleep again. I had a really good workout this morning - the kind of tempo run I'm famous for bailing on, but today I nailed it. I hardly ever stare into space, and haven't cried since Tuesday. Tomorrow is the "public" wake for my friend, in the form of a show at a bar, with a slideshow and eulogies and bands covering his songs and a cover charge. He was a musician and this thing is being put on by members of his latest band. This, to me, is hell on earth. For a while I was pretty adamant about not going, but a few people I know have expressed an interest in meeting early, before the bands and eulogies (but unfortunately not before the slideshow), just to hang out and maybe talk, maybe not. And to my utter surprise, my husband - even more of a misanthrope than I - said he sort of felt like being around people. So I guess we will go.
July 23, 2006
If I hear one more person
say, or write: "Anyone? Bueller? Anyone?" I will surely haul off and scream, or do something equally stupid.
July 22, 2006
first: the running.
Su: 18mi (8:30), solo, tried for MP every 6th mile, almost made it
M: 8mi (9:43)
T: 13mi (9:04) 1st 9 avg 9:xx, last 4 avg 8:15
W: 8.45mi incl 8x400m hill repeats, 400m jog recovery, 6min(?) pace
R: 9.55mi (9:20)
F: 6mi (9:29), legs felt the hills from 2 days before
Sa: 14 mi incl 5@6:56 avg, which would be great but I was supposed to do 10, not 5. went out too fast, tired after 5 miles, did the last 5 easy/hard.
total: 77 miles
Today was supposed to be 15 miles with 10 at MP. I figured I'd be lucky to get 7:10s, but thee head-coach said he expected 6:55-7:10, and I reacted like a teenager being told to do not one, but two loads of laundry before heading out to the mall. Warmed up 5, then ran 5 starting out too fast and tiring by the end: 6:44, 54, 56, 59, 7:07. Stopped for water, decided to do the last 5 alternating easy and hard, but I just couldn't get going enough on the hard miles. In the 13th mile - a hard one - I had to stop due to a traffic standoff between a suburban matron and a lumber truck, and I completely lost it and started screaming at the woman why are you fucking sitting there, why don't you just fucking go. After that I had no energy left, nothing, so I packed it in at 14.
next: this week has been the longest in my life. Work was very slow and I wasn't inclined to look for stuff to do; I spent entire workdays not talking to anyone, staring at the monitor, praying for composure to last until the end of the day, furtively checking non-work email and the various myspace pages acting as 24/7 online memorials to my friend that died. I hate myspace; I hate the instant-ness of it and the highschoolyearbookishness of the comments (stay sweet & safe!! love ya, guy! you and [dead person] and [dead person] are together in heaven now!) . But though I leave no comments, I am drawn to those pages just the same. And against my better judgement, I'm drawn to those last emails: what did I miss? what clue, what word?
The longest week, yes, but the raw ache is becoming less raw.
July 19, 2006
I can't understand
On Monday our best friend killed himself by jumping off a big bridge into the bay. He'd had problems with depression for years, and was kind of depressed when I exchanged emails with him late last week, but he mentioned some plans for the future so his death came as a complete shock.
What's almost as staggering: how loved he was, and is, and by so many. Yesterday I kept thinking of this or that other person that needed to be told. We went last night to his favorite bar and joined all the other stunned-looking people, talking, hugging each other, crying, losing and then regaining control as sadists played our friend's songs on the jukebox. This morning both newspapers carried the story and I heard that one of them ran a photo. There's a memorial website up already, and memorial myspace bulletins are propagating quickly. There's going to be a memorial show/service next week. And this is not a small town! And you know what? That's all just great, just wonderful, that so many people cared, but it just underlines the fact that his suicide was a stupid fucking waste. Stupid, stupid fucking waste. When you are so cared-for and well-loved that a medium-sized city is practically ready to throw a parade in your memory, you have no right to think you have nothing to live for. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you?
July 16, 2006
a little late, a little short
Who says we don't have seasons in Florida? We have plenty of seasons. In late January it is the Season of Citrus Flowers, which smells great for a few weeks. Sometime after that is the Season of Paratroopers (little green caterpillars that hang by threads from trees). Sometimes this coincides with the Season of Oak Pollen. In late March and early April comes the Season of Jasmine, which smells great for a few minutes and then becomes a choking cloying menace for the next few weeks. After the jasmine flowers die, we have the Season of Space Alien Catus Flowers, during which the weird climbing cactus planted in a few yards a block away develop these amazing-looking Invasion of the Body Snatchers pods which bloom at night and which I have never been able to google the name of. Concurrent with that Season is the Season of Getting Used To Breathless Heat, which lasts only a couple of weeks, if we are lucky. And now we have come to the Season of the Tour de France, also known as the Season of Blog-Laziness and sometimes the Season of Bailing on Tempo Runs.
Last week I finished the last of the basebuilding, not with a bang but a whimper. The last run of the week was a 16-miler, and 10 miles in my legs, mind, and the rest of my body said: enough. I weighed the potential benefits of finishing those last 5 against the potential risks, and decided to quit at just under 95 miles, as
Su: 18mi (8:15)
M: AM 11.25mi (9:33), really great, healing massage PM
T: 13.25mi (8:57)
W: AM 11mi incl 2x2mi, .25mi rest (6:43, 6:49), PM 7.12mi (8:15)
R: 11mi (9:54) paying for Wednesday, no doubt
F: 13.25mi (9:27)
Sa: 10mi (9:08), supposed to be 16
total: 94.87 miles
This past week was a blessed cutback and first foray into fast chunks of greater than 2 miles since, well, hmmm, since before the last marathon. It went as follows:
Su: 13mi (8:17)
M: 6mi (8:32)
T: 9mi (9:01)
W: PM 10mi (8:27)
R: AM 8mi incl 10 x strides
F: 11.1mi incl botched tempo run (3mi@ 6:15,45,55; jog 1mi in disgust; 1mi @
Sa: 10.9mi (9:15)
total: 68 miles
Friday I'd planned 4mi @ 6:40-6:50, but I screwed it up by not looking at my watch during the first mile. It felt ok, as did the 2nd mile, but the 3rd was definitely lacking in bang for the buck. I decided I was a failure and a fake, and bailed. Within 15 seconds I felt really guilty for bailing, so I jogged a mile, then ran a fast mile, which Didn't Really Count but what the hell. After I got home I saw I'd run the first mile 30 seconds fast, which explained the deathmarch 3rd mile. Yay, I'm not as bad a runner as I thought! Boo, I'm an idiot!
July 4, 2006
It's a holiday, I ran today, so why wait for the weekend? Let's blog today!
Yesterday I had a first visit with my friend Ray's massage therapist, and boy did that help. My legs felt like the legs of someone who doesn't run. I mean, they just felt like legs. All the way home (about 25 miles) I kept giggling about how they didn't hurt at all, didn't feel tight or tired, didn't even feel like they were there.
Of course good things seldom last, and by this morning (9 hours' sleep, wow) the legs had tightened back up a little. I had 13 on the schedule and by the time I started out it was 80F with humidity still in the high 80s, ugh. To distract myself I ran through some of the nicer parts of my neighborhood (parts I don't live in), past the high school with its perfectly nice track all locked up tight for the summer, and over to peacock park where the peacocks across the river all started screaming as I got close to the bank. With about 5 miles left, I spied Mike out a-runnin' and he graciously let me join. Bless him - those last 5 probably boosted my average pace by about 30s. I can't get over it - by myself I slog along, but put me next to someone and I start running faster without thinking about it. I think if I were a cyclist I'd be a terrible time-trialist.
I'm almost halfway through this last 100-mile week. Tomorrow morning is the dreaded tempo-interval workout. If I can get through that, I'll be happy.
July 2, 2006
all still damn slow
I can't think of any reason to post training-week stuff except that it's become habit to do this on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. Anyway:
Su: 22mi (8:59) solo and boring because Ray was outta town
M: AM 8.35mi (9:47), PM 6mi (9:02) on treadmill - to entertain myself I did "hills" (2% - 6%), which kicked my ass
T: AM 13.1mi (9:35), still whupped from mill hills
W: 10.1mi (9:57). really.
R: 10.25mi incl tempo intervals: 2x1.5mi, 400 jogging recovery. Goal 6:50 pace, actual 6:43 pace
F: AM 13mi (9:29), PM 6mi (9:09)
Sa: 12.2mi (9:12)
total: 101 miles, 9 runs.
The fact that I ran 2 doubles makes this not quite as wonderfulawesome as last week. It was all still damn slow, but the bright spot was the tempo intervals I was actually able to run on pace. A bit faster than pace, even. I really didn't think I'd be able to do it. I think this was the first time I'd held a sub-7 for an entire mile since, well, that lousy 10K I ran back at the end of April.
I don't feel quite as good as I did at the end of last week, but I think I can hang on for one more, which will make 4 100ish weeks in a row and should be an adequate base for a middle-aged midpacker such as myself. The PF lingers and both calves still get really tight and demand lots of attention, but I think I can get another week's worth of slog out of them.