Falling Into Place

I’m pretty chatty. Not as chatty as some people, but on a scale of tight-lipped to very chatty, I definitely fall right of center. I tend to be open about the majority of happenings my life, not to mention the stuff that is pissing me off, and if I have a few drinks, I’ll probably tell you everything else. That is why the last couple of months have been an exercise in self control for yours truly.

First of all, for those of you wondering, which I’m sure is none of you, I did actually follow through on my threat to apply to graduate school. I applied in March and waited. As I waited to receive an answer from the program, things started happening. Good things, things that suggested that things might work out better than expected. And I kept it all to myself... for the most part.

I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve been dissatisfied with my job for some time now. In truth I was unhappy with my previous job at the agency, the one I left to come to here, but that was more about the agency lifestyle and whether or not I really wanted to be marketing pharmaceutical products. I didn’t realize until I left that I took being valued, encouraged, thanked, and respected as part of a strong, engaged team for granted.

At the non-profit I work for now, life is different (and for those of you whom I work with, my opinion does not reflect how things work in other departments, only my department), and it’s hard to explain unless you’ve lived it, but I’m going to try. On one hand, this is probably the easiest, most consequence-free job I will ever have. A few of my colleagues and I joke about how “attendance is optional” in our office--not in policy, but in practice. And while pretty much everything I’ve done here either falls in the category of “wrong” or “completely ignored,” nothing changes; there are no repercussions, and ultimately, no one cares.

I have found it hard to be motivated under these conditions and yes, admittedly, my work has suffered. Clashes of personalities, no real management or direction, a demoralized staff, a disengaged team that barely speaks to each other unless to play the blame game, the absence of reward or even recognition, all of this has contributed to my general apathy toward work, and if anything, anywhere is true, it’s that mediocrity breeds mediocrity. It sucks the life out you, makes you question your value/talent/drive, etc., and fucks with your self-esteem, but at the same time, when you have a job that allows you to perpetually show up late and leave early (that is if you are so inclined to show up at all), why would you leave it? Particularly coming from the agency world where 10-12 hour days are the norm, the idea of leaving, of really looking for another job that might require me to actually get involved with my work and stay until 5pm, seemed daunting.

This all changed in April, when I was out on a Wednesday night celebrating the birthday of one of MM's cousins. The birthday girl happens to both be a student and an employee at the university I applied to for graduate school, which will, from here on out, simply be known as The University. On a whim, at the end of lovely, long dinner, I asked her, “Are there any marketing jobs at The University?” The answer was not only “yes,” but as it happened, the department down the hall from her was looking to fill a position that sounded as if it had been created for me. The next day, she passed my resume along. Two weeks later I had a brief phone interview with the hiring manager. A week after that I sat through a horrible board meeting at my current job where I was told the marketing for basically everything we do is wrong. When I got home from the meeting, distraught and angry, MM handed me my acceptance letter to the graduate program at The University. Shortly thereafter, I heard back from the hiring manager. Two interviews and a long HR process later, I was offered the job, and I have accepted. I am very excited about this opportunity. It's definitely a more focused position, which I think I will thrive in, and I seem to be a solid "personality" fit for the team. Plus, my new boss is clearly sweet as she already forwarded me information about a writing event The University is having just because she thought I might be interested--and it's true! I am interested!

I went back through some blog posts, which provide a fairly reliable record of the major happenings in my life for the last three years, to see what I wrote when I quit my job at the agency in late June 2006. It’s amazing having all this information written down in one place. Three years go by and everything changes. I’m getting married, turning 30, starting a new job, going back to school again (not necessarily in this order). I feel as though each documented step, running and otherwise, has been a step toward the life I am supposed to be leading. And despite the fact that my current job has been a crappy work situation, coming here served a purpose, though an unexpected one. I found my friends here. I mean, not all of them, but if you have ever moved to a new place as an adult, you know that your opportunities to meet friends are somewhat more limited than they were when you were younger. The people I met and the turns my life took while at this job gave me a reason stay in Chicago. I did not have that before. I kind of think of it this way: The agency gave me a reason to come; the non-profit gave me a reason to stay; and I’m hopeful that The University will give me a place to settle. It certainly feels like it’s possible. Right now, most things feel possible, which is kind of the same feeling you get when you run a marathon... or a half marathon.

See? We've come full circle.

Real Time

After a week off of work, which sounds awesome, and on one hand was ('cause you know, I didn't have to go to work), but really was kind of stressful and depressing for a variety of reasons. MM and I wasted a few days fighting over my general laziness and bad attitude about various crap; we spent one entire day driving out to a far suburb to attend a wake (I did not know this person); and sadly, we ended up at an animal hospital late at night where a family member-to-be put down their very sick cat. It was just... life... stuff. Not the most funnest vacation ever. And you know what life and stuff and general bad attitude-ness leads to... poor eating habits.

But it is a new week. New attitude. Clean slate. Let's make dinner! But, let's make it quickly.

Spicy Honey-brushed Chicken Thighs

Lately, I have been searching through the Cooking Light Superfast recipes because--from my research--these meals live up to the promise. I don't even think this took me 20 minutes to make, and if you have a decently stocked pantry, you'll probably only need to buy the chicken. And, take it from someone who doesn't like chicken (me) and someone who considers himself a connoisseur of... well... food (MM), this recipe is AH-mazing. Simple, easy, quick, and awesome. It's a keeper.

Things You Must Do

Holy hell. Are you into this? This hot mess (literally) known fondly as endurance running?

It's only been a week and yet, I do not remember how we got here. MM said something to me about an interview on NPR or something about running, some book, Mexican ultramarathons, something...

That's sounds nice dear.

I'm kidding, I don't actually talk to him like that.

Then like a day later, we're walking around the Square and pop into a book store, and there it is, this book, "Born to Run."

So we bought it. More specifically, I (the one who reads for pleasure) bought it. I've never actually seen MM read anything that isn't for school, a newsy-style magazine, or related to his job function in some way. But he immediately took it and finished it in about two and a half hours.

It took me a little longer. Mostly because I slept and ate every so often. But holy hell, you have to read this book. This book... well gosh... it's written by one of those totally dude journalist-types in a magazine feature article style. There's story line, with some facts and science woven in, and some slang peppering the narrative just for good measure. It jumps between a tribe in Mexico known for their endurance running ability to scholars and academics and American ultrarunners and WOW.

It boils down to this... all of those people who say marathoning takes too much of a toll on the human body and we humans aren't really supposed to be beating up our bodies through race courses 26.2 miles long (or 32 miles, 50 miles, 100 miles) are wrong. Dead wrong. We are not only built to do this--and not just "run" but long distance running--but it's against our very nature NOT to run.

Amazing.

And you know all how all of us runners are always getting hurt all the time? Doesn't make sense if we're *supposed* to do this, right? Wrong. Do you know that since all these fancy shoes with cushioning and support and crap came along, injury rates among runners have actually risen?

No shit.

Now, I'm sure there is another side to this argument, possibly something about the increase in sheer number of runners out there? Who knows, but this book presents some pretty interesting ideas about distance running and does not lack in the inspirational nuggets department. And if there's something we runners love as much if not more than running, it's a good one liner about running.

Go on. Get it. Buy it at the bookstore or on Amazon or get it from the library... whatever it is that you hippie runners do these days to obtain reading materials.

A Slice of Americana

Oh look, here we are at the start of another race, the… which one is it? The Indy Mini Marathon, 13.1 miles of pavement, including the race’s claim to fame--a 2 mile stretch around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Here’s what I love. I love running a spring half marathon. I love traveling to a different city (even if it is Indianapolis) to race. I love lounging around a hotel room catching up with my running buddies. And (AND!) I love that my sister and her boyfriend Lars made the trip. Overall, it was a super fantastic time with friends, and I will do it again, just maybe not in Indy…

Here’s why:

Now you know me. I’m all about inclusiveness. I want people who have an interest in endurance sports or distance running, etc.--regardless of their level of fitness--to be accepted and, perhaps if I’m feeling particularly touchy feely that day, embraced. After all, slower runners have been known get a lot of shit from the hot shots who run sub 6-minute miles, and I’d like to think that I understand the plight of those who need a little more time to get through a race course.

Oh yes… best I can tell, from where I’m sitting, there’s a lot of love. But here’s what I did not love, much less tolerate, about the Mini. This race was “walker friendly.” Now I’m not “walker unfriendly” per say, but I have never participated in a distance race that targeted walkers. I’m pro this in theory. In practice… not so much.

I’m not exactly sure what was supposed to happen, but the runners (and the walkers?) were corralled based on expected finish time. The slower your predicted time, the further back you were in the start corral. Runners, at least the ones who have done a race or two, are pretty used to this, and I for one, have realized that it sucks big time to be corralled with a faster group only to be passed by a million and a half people as soon as you cross the start line. The walkers apparently, just lined up wherever they felt like it. And then I spent the entire race passing walkers.

I know, I know. I’m such a complainer, “Wahhhhhh… Lou had to pass a walker every now again…” Oh no. Passing a lone walker here and there would have one thing. But these were actual moving walls made entirely of people… who were walking. They often blocked up to 70 percent (rough estimate) of the path, making it annoying, not to mention dangerous, to navigate the course. I actually saw one runner bite the dust trying to break on through to the other side.

Despite the walkers, I had a pretty decent race miles 1-10. Miles 11-13… less so. At mile 12 point something, I even STOPPED TO WALK. I know, tragic. I made it through 12 point something miles of a race only to stop and walk less than a mile from the finish. My legs just could not take it anymore. I was hurting. Now, I blame this on two things. First, the walkers. How can I possibly blame everything on the walker? Well, because I was constantly moving around the walkers, the lateral movement took a toll on my hips and quads (I think?). Second, I blame my shoes. I recently was refitted with new running shoes, New Balances, and after a few long runs (like two), the shoe seemed to lose all its support. With each step, I could feel shock wave start in the bottom of my foot and make its way up to my hips.

It’s a theory.

I should get new shoes.

Oh and my time was 2:37:15, which isn't my best, but it's solid.

Over Dressed

I've received some requests lately, and by "some" I mean exactly two. One was for an Indy race report and the other was for some "non-running" related blogging. Ah the love. I feel it.

Let's see. I'm going to give a quick wedding update because I actually did start and almost finish an Indy race report, but it's unfortunately saved on a different computer, so I'm not going to start from scratch. I'll have to post it later this week.

Meanwhile at Wedding Planning Central... For the last three months I have been struggling to come to terms with the dress I bought at the Filene's Basement sale. It's not that it isn't a great dress. It is. It's very flattering on me, and it's beautiful, etc. But it's just... not me.

Actually it's a lot of things. If you know me, and some/most/all(?) of you do, you know that on most days I don't bother with modern necessities like makeup or hairspray or curling irons. I'll be honest... it's part ego/part lazy. Frankly I don't think I need it (not that it doesn't make me look "better," I just don't think I look bad to begin with), and my motto Monday through Friday is something along the lines of "I just don't have it in me." I lack the desire to get out of bed much less the patience to take any longer than is necessary to get out the door. I have theories about this... but those will be saved for another day. Soon my people.

But I digress...

What was I talking about?

Oh right. The wedding dress. So anyway, poor simple makeup-less Lou bought a huge freaking dress that after awhile began to feel cumbersome, perhaps even daunting. And the more the ceremony began to take shape -- outdoors, on the grounds of a bed and breakfast in Michigan -- the dress seemed downright silly. I mean, why drag an 8 foot train through the grass?

I tried and tried to talk myself into the dress. But I broke. And when my sister came to visit I dragged her to David's Bridal to find an affordable and simple gown.

Mission accomplished:

So there you have it. The only thing I haven't changed my mind about is the groom.

Word on the Street Is

Every time I post to this blog, I’m all, “So I have some news…” My life is basically one news item after another. Exciting stuff that is.

Right… um… so I have some news. Following in the footsteps of Lindy and CR and others I’m sure, after much consideration, I accepted the offer to pace lead the 12 minute per mile half marathon training group this summer for Chicago Endurance Sports. Only the whole thing was less me “accepting” and more me “begging” as if I don’t have enough to do with myself this summer.

Truly I’ve wanted to be a pace leader for awhile now. I feel pretty comfortable with the half marathon distance at this point and even on a bad day, I can *fingers crossed* phone in 10 miles or less. Ok so that’s only true some of the time, but I trust my body with 13 miles. I know, for the most part, what’s going to happen, good, bad, ugly, or otherwise. The marathon distance, not so much. And, rumor has it, I’m chatty, which is a quality people like in a pace leader, supposedly. I’m hoping I have some newbies so I can be all inspirational on their asses.

Speaking of half marathons, the weather has finally, sort of, warmed up (sometimes) and Meg and I managed to settle nicely into the longest training runs for the upcoming Indy Mini Marathon. Last weekend's 10 mile run, as well as Saturday’s 11 mile run, were solid bordering on phenomenal, so we’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Here’s to hoping for good weather, a good run, and a good meal with friends and family (my sister and the infamous Lars are coming!). Our final long run is a cut back, 8 miles, this weekend and then it’s off to (hopefully) sunny and (at least sort of) warm Indianapolis.

Running Hot Running Cold

Oh dear God, yes... I was there. And no, I don't really want to talk about it, but I will because that's what I do.

I can't lie to you. If it weren't for MM, there is NO WAY I would have gone downtown to run that godforsaken race. I would have woken up, heard thunder, not even looked out the window to see, ta-freaking-da, Chicago covered in a blanket of white shit on Marchfuckingthirtieth, and promptly fallen back to sleep in my warm, DRY bed for another four to six hours.

But no, MM dragged me--against my will--through the elements so I could risk life and limb (mostly limb) to run a measly five miles. At the start line, I had visions (visions!) of being taken to the hospital to have toes removed. How stupid would I feel when for the rest of my life I would think back to this race and shake my head and say, "If I had only stayed in bed, I would still have my toes."

I'm actually being serious. I believed that toe removal was imminent.

But no matter. I am here. Alive. Fully toed.

Anyway...

It wasn't my worst Shamrock Shuffle. It was my second worse, and that's just fine considering the circumstances. And yes, there's a tiny weeny part of me that is happy I stuck with tradition. Race season 2009 is officially here. Here's to hoping it only gets better from here. I mean, we deserve a little good weather at this point, don't we Mother Nature? I mean COME ON. Help a runner out!

In other news... MM and I booked our honeymoon! We're going to a little bed and breakfast type place in Cabo San Lucas. Exclamation point. Exclamation point. Exclamation point. Oh god. I could go on forever. I spent months staring at TripAdvisor, which is a fantastic site, but overwhelming after you've read reviews for every last all inclusive resort on earth. Finally, I had a moment of clarity along the lines of something genius like, "why the hell am I only looking at all inclusive resorts?" I think theknot.com and its bitchtastic community forums had me brainwashed into thinking that our honeymoon would be incomplete without swim up bars, mediocre "International" buffets, and an uninterupted IV of frozen pina colada being pumped into our veins. It was liberating to move beyond all inclusives, and after I was given much needed advice on where oh where we should go, I narrowed down the location and found the most perfect place ever.

In conclusion, I have stopped reading theknot.com forums.