The Race and Whatnot

I had a much deeper post in draft form for today, but I just don’t have the time or energy to finish it with the kind of thought I’d like to put into it.  So perhaps I’ll save that for another day.
The race Saturday was crazy.  There were sooooooooooo many people, walkers and runners all mashed up together at all different speeds.  I ran with A. and another friend of hers that I’m sort of peripherally friends with…regardless, she’s a nice woman and I like her too.  It took us almost 5 minutes to get just from where we were lined up to the actual starting point after the gun went off.
Aside from weaving in and out of people traffic and pulling off a grapevine-sort of run, I pretty much just focused on keeping pace with A.  Because I was there with her, to celebrate her mom’s 20 year survival from breast cancer, and she was my team captain! Thus, very quickly the race became not about time at all. I also learned that a hundred different things can throw the game off on race day, and that you can enjoy yourself regardless.
If I were to guess, figuring the amount of time crossing the starting line AND all the walking/shuffling/dance moves we had to incorporate into our race, my time was probably around 33 minutes.  (A. did keep her stopwatch running)  I’m fine with that.  A. is the most noncompetitive person I know, and she really got my head out of the time obsession.  Anyway, her experience (she’s been running longer than me) is that even on your best days you’re going to hover around the same finish time no matter what.  It’s not like one day you’ll just magically knock 5 minutes off your run!
I didn’t bring home as much loot as usual because the crowds practically guaranteed that the vendor booths were picked over.  The girls and I went out for brunch afterwards (pancakes for me–of course!) and I just really, really enjoyed the time I got to spend with them.
I realize my description may not make it sound like the most fun day, and it definitely was not the most enjoyable race I’ve ever participated in, but it really was just nice to be with my friend.  And I want to say thank you very much to everyone who donated to our team!
Unfortunately, the Halloween race I wanted to do falls on the same day as two other commitments so I don’t think it’s in the cards (it *could* be, but only if I really wanted to create stress for myself…which, no thanks, I will pass).  There were a couple others I found online in October/early November, but all require a pre-race package pick-up which I find to kind of be a pain in the butt.  We’ll see.  Any suggestions for my next 5K?

ETA:  I forgot to mention Dorkathlon Event #6 at Elizabeth’s blog! I still need to think up my own response…

Weekend

So, since Friday afternoon:

One of my closest friends got mugged (she’s okay, thank god)

I ran sideways at times in the most crowded 5K I’ve ever participated in

I came down with some sort of cold/flu thing and spent the last 24 hours primarily sleeping or reading, quarantined from my sweetie

More to come later, but that’s my update for now. :p

Speaking of psychoanalytics…

You guys are going to think I’m making this story up, it’s far too timely.  But I swear I’m not.

Today I went for my last training run.  As promised to myself, I did not take my stopwatch.  I just ran.  I only stopped to walk a couple times (in part because I was getting goosebumps, which always makes me uneasy, especially when it’s hot outside like it is now) and I felt really good.
As I’m running along, a middle school gym class starts running by me.  I was totally struck with a memory of running the 10 minute mile in gym class.  I think it was one of those stupid things we had to do for the president’s physical fitness test or whatever.  Well, I did not run my mile in 10 minutes.  Which was embarrassing enough, but then the gym teachers made us keep repeating it until we could run it in 10 minutes.  In theory.  By my third attempt, despite still not making a 10 minute mile, they let me off the hook.  There were about two other kids I remember having to repeat it with me, but the majority of the class was done and milling around outside.  I got made fun of all the time in gym class anyway, but this was especially humiliating. (I also had to have knee surgery soon after–while it was originally the result of tearing the lining of the joint playing tennis, I’m certain the repeated miles didn’t help). 
So all of that came flashing back and I sort of was able to purge it and put it behind me.  And then I saw the neatest thing–two girls were coming up the very rear of the class, side by side, doing their best.  And their gym teacher was clapping and cheering them and saying, “Good job girls! You can do it!” 
I did my very best to smile at the girls as I jogged by.

Wow!

Can I just say you guys are awesome?  Yesterday was just a day to sit and spill my guts, and the responses were amazing.  I have a lot to think about before race day and in general.   Thank you.

On another note, I started reading Switching Time this week and as a result have not gotten nearly enough sleep.  Whoops.  
What’s really interesting is that there is a tremendous amount of skepticism* around multiple personality disorder (or, Disosociative Identity Disorder, as it is now called).  I read Sybil, and I’ve read a lot of the criticisms that suspect “Sybil’s” therapist constructed the disorder.  The fact that MPD/DID is a recognized psychiatric disorder leads me to believe that such cases really do exist.  And if Switching Time is made up, somebody has a really deranged sense of humor and I will write many angry letters to the publishing company.
It’s by no means an easy read, but it is fascinating (especially for a psychology nerd** like me), assuming you take it at face value.  The author himself states that he has no way of knowing just how bad the abuse was, and that memories from childhood can be confused, distorted, etc etc.  I think abuse happened, especially since the father was eventually arrested for abusing another family member (again, assuming we take the book as stating true facts).  And I do accept that alter personalities can develop when the brain can’t handle reality.  There’s too much we don’t know about how the brain works to discount it.  The mere fact of amnesia after an injury (one I experienced myself after wrecking my bike and hitting a mailbox at age 14) demonstrates to me what the brain will do to protect itself.
So, it’s a fascinating read, assuming it’s true.  And if it’s not true, anyone who would manipulate the reader’s sympathies and exploit child abuse is pretty messed up and probably needs to see a psychiatrist as well. 

*I believe a lot of the skepticism stems from the fact we really do not want to accept that someone could treat a child so cruelly.

**Sometimes I wish I’d toughed it out through that Biological Psychology class I dropped with about 50% of the enrolled students…but knowing how hard it is for me to distance myself from others, I still think psychology, while fascinating, would not have been a good career choice for me.

Self Talkin’

First things first–things I wanted to blog about yesterday but didn’t have time for: S. has 2 interviews this week, H. got a promotion at work (yay!!!), the economy is something I’m just trying to ignore, and I finally saw Tropic Thunder this weekend (and found it entertaining and not terribly offensive in the context of what the movie was going for–how come nobody piped up and said it was rude to poke fun at celebrity drug addicts?  [I wonder how Robert Downey Jr. felt during those scenes]) 
Today I need to vent a little about a crime I’ve been committing against myself.  It seems my biggest obstacle in my running right now is not diet soda.  Nope, it’s me.
I had another difficult run today, in part because it’s 80 some degrees outside and in part because I didn’t take an Ibuprofen beforehand (I’ve noticed I’m having better runs if I do that, it at least takes my mind off little hurts and pains*, and that’s good enough to get me through race day for now).  However, about halfway through my 3 mile runs I start engaging in negative self talk and self-destruct.
Usually I’ll be chugging along fine, enjoying myself, and about halfway through I start to panic.  I look at my watch, estimate that I’ll never finish in a reasonable time, freakout, and convince myself it’s not even worth bothering.  So I start to walk, and once I take a walk break once, the rest of my run ends up peppered with them.  In the end, my time ends up being better than I expected and probably would have been really stellar if I’d not freaked out and just ran the whole time.  
The last time I ran I was in a good enough mental state that I overcame the panic attack and finished with a time that was pleasing to me.  Today, I just wasn’t. 
In my mind I am convinced I will never be a good or very fast runner, and so sometimes it starts to feel like it’s not even worth bothering.  I can’t keep pace with E., I probably couldn’t keep pace with Kim, and I’m sure I couldn’t keep up with Amy.  I tell people I prefer to run alone, but the reality is I’m just too darn embarrassed to run with anyone else. 
Last time just finishing a 5K was enough for me.  Now it’s about getting better and stronger and faster, and it’s turning into stupid  unnecessary pressure.
This one time I am going to try to get better at something that is hard for me instead of giving up like I usually do.  I *like* running.  I like the community, I like the physiology and psychology, I like reading about it and I like how convenient it is (lace up some shoes and run out the door! bam!).  I just need to get my confidence up…and…maybe stop comparing myself to everyone else. :p

*Before anyone asks, I really mean little hurts and pains.  For awhile it was stiches in my side and stomach pain, but that’s gone away as I run more.  I get headaches while running sometimes, and the standard twinges in my feet and legs.  Just enough for me to doubt myself, not enough for me to be sidelined by any means.

Water Water Everywhere

With one week until racetime, and my weight training going significantly better than my running, I am putting up a challenge to myself.  From now until next Saturday, I am only allowed to drink morning coffee, tea, and water.
Now, generally speaking I was not drinking juice, or milk, or even Gatorade.  So what’s different?
No more diet soda. (and that includes Crystal Light–while uncarbonated, it still qualifies)
Not caffeinated, not uncaffeinated. Nada. Nothing.
Tea and water.  Lots of both.
So far it has been going well…thankfully I love tea and have a collection *not quite* comparable to Kyra’s. Black, green, herbal–it’s all there. Dessert teas for afternoon treat time.  Soothing teas for bedtime.  Even E. has a large collection of tea thanks in part to the boxes my parents gave him for his b-day, so I have lots of choices there as well! 
Now tonight at the party we’re attending?  Eh, not so much.  I’m going to be stuck with non-soda mixers or maybe a light beer.  (I hardly ever drink anymore, so let’s just dismiss this, shall we?)
This may very well be harder than when I first cut out the refined carbs… but if I can do it, and I really notice a difference in how I feel, then diet soda is out the door.
Until next summer anyway.

This & That Thursday

Good news–I seem to have come out from my hidey-hole just a wee bit. I don’t know if it’s the sunshine, or just the fact that I blew off some hermitty-steam this week, but I’ll take it.

• Last night I finished the 650 page book I bought last weekend.  Yay!
• I spent most of yesterday evening in bed because my guts were doing acrobatics of Cirque du Soleil proportions.  Thus, the absurd amount of reading.  And I still managed to squeeze in last night’s ANTM episode!
• I had the most HORRIBLE run in awhile yesterday, but I’m going to blame it on whatever was going on inside my guts and give myself a little shot of confidence that race day will be much better.
• After reading this article, I not only deemed E. and I a power couple, but decided that if I continue to have moments of hermitude, I really need to go back to studying for that PHR exam.  Damn stupid PHR exam.  The next testing window is in December and with the pre-holiday slowdown combined with the possibilities that January brings, I have no excuses.
• Plus H. and I are going to the outlet malls in Aurora on Saturday and I need to fund my shopping habit in this crap-hole economy of ours.
• Speaking of, E. had to reassure me that my ING account is probably a much safter place to be saving my money than either Chase or under my mattress.

Antisocial

Okay, I do have something to write about but it’s not great. In fact, it’s kind of crappy. I’m no longer feeling “don’t wanna get out of bed depressed”, but I have sunk into a bout of feeling really antisocial.
Hence the tea and reading conversation yesterday. Which, by the way, is exactly what I did last night.
I was telling H. the other day that right now, I really, REALLY hate running into people I haven’t seen in awhile. Because the inevitable “what have you been up to?” question pops up, and depending on my mood the answer is either a wishy-washy, “Oh, you know…work and stuff…” or a sarcastic, “Well, my grandma got really sick and then died and I spent the first two months of summer having shingles–how are you?” I try to reserve the 2nd one for people I don’t really like. (kidding, I don’t think I’ve ever said the 2nd but I think it)
I feel like I am being a melodramatic baby, but I think it’s even more foolish to act like everything has been sunshine and roses when it hasn’t.
At least I can tell people I’m training for a 5K. Something, ANYTHING that is worth talking about.*
The other thing is I am struggling to be around other people because I really can’t deal with listening to other people’s problems right now. I’m walking around with an attitude for the most part of, you made your bed so lie in it. End point. That is neither nice nor fair. I am well aware of that. I’m just being honest.
Don’t feel like you can’t come to me with a problem if you are my friend. Really, I am not raining curses upon your head. Just know that I’m still not me, and if I respectfully decline an invitation, it’s probably better for everyone.

*I suppose I could also mention that Dave has me pricing out trips to Hawaii after E. did little to discourage such an adventure. Tee hee.

Dorkathlon Event #4

I don’t have a whole lot more right now, so take all your blog energy over to Elizabeth!

Conversation

The following exchange took place over the phone with my dad earlier:
Me – “I don’t know what my problem is, but I just want to stay in my house, drink tea and read.”
Dad – “Sounds like you’re turning into your mother.”

Heh.