All Over the Place

That is what this blog is going to be; all over the place. I've got some random thoughts that I can no longer harness alongside some happenings that are, well happening or happened. Also, numbers bore me (so not the math geek in school)....do you really care how many laps I did, how many miles I ran or biked? Ok, maybe you do, but there will be and are enough posts about that. How about a little useless information instead?

First, I want to say thanks to the very kind comments on my last post regarding my work. Sometimes (ok, a lot of the time), I get pretty insecure about my stuff. Not sure where that comes from. I am sure someone out there with greater knowledge of Freud or Jung come up with something, but I have to move on to some other tangent.

My coaches had a nice victory/celebratory run this past Saturday morning. It was a simple 15 minute out and back designed primarily for the sake of getting together one last time. One. Last. Time. That makes me very sad. I really loved my group training sessions. I think I missed two the whole season. Saturday was a gorgeous, but bittersweet morning and despite my doctors orders not to run for two weeks (that back thing), I ran about 2.5 miles to the meeting place, then did the run and also ran back home. I did just a bit over 6 miles in total; I felt fine. One of my coaches did the Lake Placid Ironman (which was the same date as my Oly last weekend). He was telling me how he hardly trained for it so his time was pretty crappy and he just wanted it to end (ya think?). This was his 8th Ironman. Someone pick my lifeless body up from the floor. Ok, Frst how do you do 8 Ironmen and how do you "hardly" train for an Ironman and then do an Ironman? He said he's only gotten in one long bike and two long runs. Insanity! How do you do that and still finish? Good Lawd!

On my run back home, I almost kicked a dog. Not on purpose mind you, I love animals. I was keeping to the right and some lady, who clearly saw me coming and apparently could care less, allowed her dog, and hence the leash attached to said dog, to cross in front of me to access the tree on my right. When it became clear to her that I was not going to maneuver around her pup (there was honestly nowhere to go; NYC sidewalks are narrow with brownstones on one side and trees and parked cars at the curb on the other), she yanked the poor thing out of the way. Not 1/2 a block later, I pass some guy who decides at that very moment to hock a lugie. Yeah, right on my shirt and elbow. GROSS!!!! Mostly because he wasn't Daniel Craig, but instead some unsavory looking character....EW! EW! EW! (to his credit he did apologize several times until I was out of earshot, but still...EW!)

What is up with women wearing boots in summer? Summer is hot, boots are hot. I am not talking about the little booties (although I think I lived thru those in the 80's, not a fan then or now), but the full on, knee high boot. Am I crazy or just old? Another thing, pants under skirts (as fashion and not as a means of keeping oneself warm on the way to school in WINTER), when you woke up, you couldn't decide which one to wear so you wore both? Not sure if this one has hit nationwide, but guys who wear their pants below their ass so you can see what underwear they are wearing.

For real people, what is holding up these pants? The belt is decorative at best and I doubt he has the wood to accomplish such a feat.

I know from where this trend originates and it ain't positive; it's "prison fashion". Let's put aside the "wanna be gangster" mentality and talk pure mechanics. How the hell do these pants even stay up at their half mast position? Seriously. Some of these guys are so rail thin and ass-less, I cannot figure out how their pants just don't drop to their ankles. Not to mention it just looks like shite. What's with these kids today? There, I've said it and am now officially my grandmother. This has been keeping me up at night and I thank you for indulging me.

From now on (or until February if I decide to do TNT again), I am on my own. It will be up to me to train. I have a sprint tri in September. I need more races, I have decided. Otherwise I'll be sitting on my ever expanding rear carriage while I slowly inhale a pint of Dulce de Leche. I'm eyeing a couple of biathlons and am somewhat (because it will hurt) eager to work on my running; gaining some speed and endurance. I have been considering joining the NYRR (New York Road Runners), they host the ING NYC Marathon. It's $40 for the year with discounts on races, classes and they have regular running groups and classes ($100/10 weeks, once a week) based on your level of ability. (I like that they consider me "level 4: Advanced Intermediate") I can't afford a coach (that I didn't fund raise to receive), so I will have to get info where I can from here on out.

Yesterday saw me on the floor again, with an achy back. Seems Saturday's run was not the most inspired decision I could have made. While out in Jersey for a shopping expedition (WalMart baby!), my hubby spotted a White Castle and nearly killed us cutting across traffic to get to it. I do not understand the lure of man to the White Castle "belly bomber".

Do not be fooled by the picture, the meat pattie in one of these minuscule burgers is thinner than a dinner napkin (and, by the way, tastes about the same). I think this next pic illustrates it much more accurately.

Mmmmm....thin and meaty as a quarter!

When we pulled up to the drive thru window and it was opened, the smell that wafted out between the accordion windows was so vile ( a mix of deep fried, greasy putrification), I nearly gagged. I was so glad my son was asleep in his car seat so he couldn't ask for one of these loathsome burgers, that claims to pass for food. Yes, I ate them. I paid for it later. 'Nuff said.

I really have a craving for chocolate, dark, dark chocolate...