T minus 18 days, 19 hours, 44 minutes

Outside.

It was 13 degrees outside.

Thanks to Thursday’s additional snowfall, the streets were icy, snowy AND slushy.  Yep.  A trifecta of winter ICK.

My first thought was “Oh, come on – get out of my way!” (I’m impatient. Sue me.)

Hot on the heels of that thought was “Are they worth 10 points each, or do I just get 25 for the group?“

Followed by “You know, that’s INSANE.  Who runs outside in January?“

And then “Oh, my, GOD.  I’m one of those crazy people**.“

Yep. As of last Friday afternoon, I have been accepted into the local running club/training group for THIS.

Shit just got REAL, y’all.***

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*That’s my confirmation number for the race registration.

**I actually ran outside with the training group Saturday morning.  It was SIX degrees Saturday morning.  This means: A) I’m even crazier than the Sunday noontime runners, & 2) My brain really cannot wrap itself around the idea that I’m one of these people yet.

***I know I sound ridiculous with the “y’all” but that was homage****, people.  Had to be done.

***Homage to what, you may ask?  In the interests of efficiency, I think I’ll wait until one of y’all ACTUALLY asks.

1/2 Marathon Training, W1D2*: 30 minutes of cross-training. Did this during my lunch break.  So far, so good.

Other than I want to eat ALL THE FOODS.

Item 2 / Over herd last weekend:

B, in full-on emo mode about why I won’t take her shopping: “…and we never even go on MUHCATION!”
Me: *stammers*
B, calm as Hindu cows: “I may be over-reacting.”

Item trois:

Had a weird, but sort of good, dream about Mom.  It would have been a great dream, except that halfway through, part of my brain did the mental equivalent of prairiedogging, and flashed “THIS IS A DREAM, DUMBASS” at me.  Kinda ruined it. I hate knowing that I’m dreaming, especially when it’s a wish fulfillment dream.  Sigh.

D:

Seriously, ALL THE FOODS. I would eat a waffle right now, that’s how hungry I am.

(I hate waffles.)

(As a matter of fact,the last time I ate a waffle, I was preg—I’m shutting up now.)

Item the last:

Plea to real runners – tell me what the hell I’m supposed to be eating, and in what ratios, while training.  Because I’m all over the place with my appetite, calorie counts, etc.  (Also, did I mention ALL THE FOODS?  Seriously, the last time I ate like this, I was….well, hunh. Pi star ampersand dollar sign.)**

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*Yeah, um, that was 3 days ago. Meant to post earlier but I’ve been busy staying in bed and being sad and pathetic (well, except for doing the designated training runs, I mean. I’m not quite so pathetic yet that I’ve give up on that.)  Don’t ask.  I’m over it.

**Never mind the snow emergency, I think I’m hiking up to CVS tonight to buy a plastic stick to pee on. π*&$

***This doesn’t actually correspond to anything above the line, I just wanted to throw it in at the very end, and this is the very end, so.  Anyone out there have any ideas about freelance opportunities for which I might be qualified, or need a part-time employee of the telecommuting sort?  I could really use a little extra money… All suggestions welcome!

The Photog was a GENIUS, I tell you

But I don’t normally like pictures of myself.  So, finally having one that I like, I sort of want to paper the world* with it.  And the thing I really like about it, aside from the photog making me look waycrazyprettier than I look in real life?  Is that at the time it was taken, I was actually having EVEN. MORE. FUN. than it looks like I’m having.**

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*Apparently my world is damn small, and consists of a Facebook profile, and a blog with 4 readers.

**I KNOW.  The photographer was magical.

• Item the first: thanks to a scheduling conflict and/or some very fortunate (for me) timing, I lucked into a pair of tickets for THIS.  So tonight, instead of the usual Monday routine (hurry home, dart through dinner, speed the scrubbing, tear through toothbrushing,  rush our reading, gallop to goodnight) little girl and I will be racing around to get ready for a big girls’ night out (Big Girls’ night out?)  She doesn’t even know yet, since I just found out about the tickets this morning.  I’m excited enough for both of us, though.  I ADORE the ballet.

• Speaking of little girl, over the weekend we had this awesome mother-daughter moment:

Me, to B: You are so amazingawesome that I can’t believe you’re mine.

*B gives me big hug and smile*

Me: Oh! What if there was a mixup at the hospital? What if you have an amazingawesome mom out there somewhere…?

B (TRES matter-of-fact): Oh, I don’t.

Did I say “mother-daughter” moment?  Cuz it felt more “comedienne-straight (wo)man”ish.

• Troisieme.  Over the weekend, I saw the following quote, and it’s still resonating with me.  I don’t know what to do with/about/because of it, but it definitely felt like the universe was trying to tell me something.  I’m going to share it here because I think *it* IS one of those universal nuggets I spoke of before:

“I read and walked for miles at night along the beach, writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for someone wonderful who would step out of the darkness and change my life. It never crossed my mind that that person could be me.”  (Anna Quindlen)

So now it’s crossing my mind.  A lot.  (Not “alot” though.) Next step? Yeah, I’ll worry about being wonderful and/or changey once I manage that “out of the darkness” part.

• I didn’t register in time for the Indy 1/2 marathon training program (nor even the 1/2 marathon itself), but it turns out, that’s not the only race in town.  Oops, bad phrasing.  It’s TOTALLY the only race in town that weekend.  But who said I had to stay in town?  (You’d think I’d have thought of that first, but apparently I have Exile blinders or something?)  So now my running partner (who did register in time) has a whole team of new running partners (waaah!) and I’m about to find out what I’m really made of, as I train for THIS, pretty much on my own.

• I don’t know what number I’m on anymore. I guess I could have just used the numbered list option instead of the bullets.  Or I could go back and change it.  But then this bullet point wouldn’t make any sense at all, and I’d feel like I should delete it, and after all the typing, that seems wasteful.  Plus, you’ve already read this, and you’re not getting back those 45 seconds no matter what, am I right?

• Reminder to the universe/quantum field/PTB – 2011: Annee des comtesses (ne l’oubliez pas!)

• Super Scribblenauts is my new favorite Quality Time with Goat #1 thing.  Yesterday, we were adding bombs to the scene when he typo’d and we got “Nuclear Bob” instead.  Poor green, glowing Bob.  (He didn’t help, either. Just radiated everyone to death. Sigh.)  In other news – adding “Medusa” to the scene turns the dragon to stone, sure, but unless you give yourself some reflective glasses first, you’re also in danger.

• To Whom It May Concern: Please pick from the following movie quotes*.

1) The fact that you’re not answering leads me to believe you’re either (a) not at home, (b) home but don’t want to talk to me, or (c) home, desperately want to talk to me, but trapped under something heavy. If it’s either (a) or (c), please call me back.

B) We went like this, he went like that. I said to Hollywood, “Where’d he go?”

IV) Come back! Come back! You’s my friend!

• Related: I hate January.  That is all.

No, really.  That is all**.

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*Bonus points*** to anyone who knows where IV comes from.

**Except for this part, I mean.

***Not that those are good for anything but bragging rights.  As far as I know.  And “bragging” might be overstatement.  How about my undying affection?  Would that be better than worthless bonus points?

I’m just…yeah.  Still that.  Whatever it is. Finding out today that I can no longer register for the Indy 1/2 marathon was a bummer.  And there’s all this other baggage that goes with not getting registered in time that makes it harder to shake off.  It’s not completely unshakeable, I just don’t feel like putting as much effort into it (the shaking) as it might take.

Wow.  That last sentence (no, not “Wow.”  The one before that) just sunk in.  Somebody cue the Matthew Sweet “Sick of Myself” for me, all right?

Screw it.  I’m shutting up now.  How about y’all just admire my new header?

I know the Senate hasn’t voted yet but I’m so very very tired of being pessimistic/cautious that I’m leading with THIS: CLICK ME! CLICK ME!

Your turn. Please leave any/all good news (personal, regional, global, I don’t care so long as it’s GOOD. NEWS.) in the comments. No, really. PLEASE. I need this, people. It’s only the first day, and I’m already with Adam Duritz:

Guess who got to be one of the flower girls…?

CDFGE

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*Isn’t that word AWESOME?

Some of it, I’m still processing and don’t quite know what to think/say/share about it…. And some of it was never for public consumption, anyway, so it didn’t get written about.  Actually, a lot of it was stuff I wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing.  Out of nowhere last year, my life became overwhelmingly about a bunch of stuff I don’t want to write about.  Not yet, anyway.

Question: Writer’s block: brings about depression?  Or is it the depression that brings about writer’s block?  Is it a dysfunctional symbiotic relationship?  Like anxiety and cookies?

This is going to be all over the place.  I’m new at this all over again.  Bear with me.

So.  The biggest thing right now: I think I’m trying to become a runner.  All you ACTUAL runners out there: go ahead and laugh until you puke.  I’ll wait.

Back so soon?  Okay, then.  I’m not sure what started it, really, except that I’d begun working out again a lot, and enjoying it, and really noticing a difference in my stamina.  And then a friend of mine started C25K, and I thought “that doesn’t sound so bad…” and then my firm offered to sponsor a team for THIS and so my friend and I registered and ran it together.

It. Was. AWESOME.

Twenty minutes after I got home from my first race ever, friend and I were all over the web looking for another one to enter (there was a very “totally stoned and raiding the pantry for cookies” vibe to it.) (Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.)

We found THIS for two weeks later.

And it. was. AWESOME.

Again.

We beat our Komen time by more than 6 minutes.

Next up is Christmas in the Park. I even got the goats signed up for the 1/2 mile reindeer run. If nothing else, they’ll sleep well after all of the afternoon excitement, right?

After that, I’m not sure what happens. Friend is registered for training for the Indy 1/2 marathon. I think I’m hoping Santa wraps up enough money to pay for registration…but every time I see THIS, I wonder if it might be better if he didn’t:

Hi.

I still don’t know what to do.  I’m still broken.  I’m working on it, but I can’t tell how it’s going.  I don’t know if it’s getting better, or if I just care less than I did.

There’s a lot going on.  A LOT lot.   There always was, but this year has felt like Mach3 with my hair on fire.  I’m not the same person (mother, wife, blogger, friend, daughter, employee, sister, woman….) I was when I started writing here.

In many ways, this is a good thing.  But I don’t know where that leaves me.  Or this blog.

I’m not sure who I am anymore.  I don’t think I ever knew, actually.  I was too busy to notice.  Part of the broken is that I realized it.  So I’m trying to figure out who I WANT to be, what I want this blog to be.

I promise to think about it tomorrow morning at 7:30, when I am here.  No, really.  (I TOLD you there was a lot going on.)

It’ll be a fantastic distraction from my usual OhSweetVishnuWHATWASITHINKING???