Running away to join the circus

Yes, I got willingly kidnapped by some circus folks and I'm completely unharmed, but not unaffected. Aerial arts have captured my imagination and I want to try a little of everything! I haven't braved the trapeze yet as I'm still working on my getting over my fear of scaling that shaky ladder, but I just attended my second lyra class at TSNY yesterday and I can see myself loving that too. My lyra instructor, a young college student who grew up studying circus arts, caught my attention yesterday with a simple phrase that she probably didn't even realize was important. She said, essentially that aerial arts were a pivotal growth tool for her because one might be awkward on the ground, but one need not be awkward in the air. I totally get that and it resonates with me on so many levels (Hi, remember me? I'm the lady who steps in cheese and trips on her own shadow ;). Silks can be frustrating and challenging, but I keep returning because its beautiful and the process is teaching that I know such a small amount about the universe and I'm okay with that as long as I remain open to learning and evolving.

I may be occasionally awkward in the air right now, but I'm enjoying defying gravity.

I stepped in cheese.

Yes, I have been gone for a long time, but no that is not a euphemism. On Sunday I stepped in cheese. Real, full dairy, animal fatty, melty and sweating on a black topped parking lot in the sun cheese. I think it was pepper jack. If I'd allowed them to lick my shoes as they kept trying to do, my dogs might be able to confirm this, but I'll get to that in a second.

Before the assault by dairy, KJ and I made a plan to enjoy a rare sunny and warm March day. I busted out a short sleeved t-shirt, post-Goth cargo pants (seriously, they have a lace waistband and flared legs. I bought them at Hot Topic and yes, I fully appreciate the irony) and put on my favorite pair of Onitsuka Tigers. KJ and I walked around Old Town, enjoyed a Belgian breakfast and then spent the afternoon hooping in the park. We smiled at dogs, visited a candy store and strolled around town commenting on gardens and architectural elements. *sigh* It was bliss. And then that damned piece of cheese ruined my day, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Before heading home we stopped at a grocery store to pick up cold meds for KJ (despite the weather, it is still Winter)and a few other items we needed around the house. As we walked back to the car we laughed about the kooky Girl Scouts squealing and hawking calories outside the store and KJ referenced a Chris Kattan joke from some really bad Lorne Michaels feature film (something about CK dressed in a Scout uniform and offering COOK-AYS!). Goofballs on the loose...we almost made a clean getaway, but as I approached the back door of the car to place our purchases on the back seat I felt a squish. Initially I thought it was a wet paper towel dampened by the piles of still melting snow, but when I tried to shake it off, it wouldn't go away. "Must be gum," I thought. Gross, but fairly easy to remove with an ice cube. But the texture was wrong. It squished not so much like wet paper or gum, but more like...dog poop. I lifted my foot and there, caught between the rubbery blue and lime green spikes of my retro climbing shoes were the remains of a partially melted and fully rubberized piece of white cheese.

*Hurk*

Seriously. The older I get, the more certain things (the smell of seafood, paper litter on a running trail, melted cheese on my shoe) activate my gag reflex.

I wiped my shoe on the pavement but the offending dairy product continued to cling to my kicks and further embed itself amongst the treads.

"Wipe it off on the ice over there," KJ thoughtfully suggested in between stiffled guffaws. It *was* funny--hell, I was laughing too if only at the sheer ridiculous grossness of stepping in someone's discarded cheese but it really was so so disgusting. Nope, icing it didn't help.AT.ALL.

So I drove us home, careful not to touch anything in my car with the cheese shoe. I could only imagine the way rotting bits of cheese might smell hidden amongst the floor mats on a 90 plus degree Summer day. *shudder*

Safely at home I kicked off my shoe on the front porch, limped around in my one cheeseless shoe, greeting the dogs and gathering supplies to clean my footwear.

Outside all three of the girls were jockeying for space to sniff and get close enough to taste the amazingness that was the cheese shoe. KJ thought it hilarious to allow them to get close enough to attempt a lick and then call them off. Yep. Ha ha . Three bowls of soapy water, one old sponge and five paper towels later my shoe was clean enough to bring into the house. I tried lining it up in the shoe tray by the door to dry but there must have been tiny cheese molecules left in my shoe tread because the girls continued to try to nose my shoe upside down in order to claim their prize (really, what self-respecting dog wouldn't enjoy a little shoe with cheese topping?). Cleaning FAIL. Right now the shoe is drying in the hall closet away from canine noses--drying just enough so I can throw it into the wash and hopefully forget this ever happened.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Sooooo....I am writing a novel. Yep, its one of those life list things that I never really wrote down but always wanted to do. No plot yet, no title, nothing, but I have at least one more day before I need to start putting words to paper so that's good.

We shall see...at least I now have the push I need to start writing again and it will help me shift my focus from all physical training all the time to a bit of mental training.

Three more weeksish until JFK. My finish time in Nike was good--on target with where I want to finish JFK this year so go me!

Just hanging around

 

...waiting for the afternoon to pass so I can get my mileage in and catch up on my reading (for school and for pleasure). I miss aerial already even though I've only missed a week, but with a broken finger I am likely to miss several more.

This is not a test...

...in fact, the gurgling you may have heard (if you'd been running ahead or behind me in this morning's trail half), was my intestines. Too much liquid, not enough solids. No port-o-potties and just my sheer will (and an aid station a few miles away) to keep it in check. Other than my intestinal roiling early on, I felt great so I made a vow to myself to eat something (a PB&J bite and some Pringles) at the next aid station. I settled for a cup of water, a few chips and a bite of the PB&J bite --crust and part of the bread followed the empty water cup into the trash bin--and then I was off. There's something about that aid station that makes me run a little more purposefully. For the second year in a row, one of the volunteers has commented on how strong I looked as I re-entered the woods.

A few minutes into the woods and I'd already picked off my first runner and began progressing along the trail. I felt confident in my technical skills and that made up for my lack of speed. A few miles in I began a conversation with the woman ahead of me--I needed to remind myself that this was just a training run and I needed to save a little for my run tomorrow. So we chatted about last year's race, about JFK50, about trail fashion (I was wearing both a new shirt and new Inov-8s--that's a no no, right? It all worked out, thank goodness--no new blisters, no chafe). Chatting helped keep my pace steady/slow. At the last aid station I gambled on a cup of Mountain Dew. Can't stand the stuff in every day life, but there's something about that neon yellow liquid that gives me the extra push to finish well. And I did--finish well, that is.

As we entered the final 200 m I could see the historical cemetary ahead and to my right and I could hear the strains of some classic rock song. Crazily, it felt like the final scene in The Warriors--hearing that jangly music and seeing the Wonder Wheel and knowing I was home. It felt like that until I broke out of the tree line and saw the crowd in a small knot at the finish line. I was not on Coney Island, but in my temporary home further down the East Coast and I was done--at least for today. I ran through the finish chute and just stopped short and into a walk. My toes hurt a little (a combination of klutziness and new shoes, I suspect), but really I could have gone another 13. I feel good and closer to being ready to slay bigger dragons.

Still. Here.

I'm running. Slowly and in need of new trail and road shoes, but I am happy to report that I am officially training for JFK50. The race essentially filled in two or three days so it has been a worrisome two weeks of waiting to find out whether my application made the cut. Today its official. So I'm pleased.

And I had a fantastic weekend so I'm glowing (and its Monday morning so imagine that!)

As part of my training/life plan I'm also doing this (thanks Ben. Things are going well ;). If you wonder how I look so good (tee hee hee) check it out!

And as part of my sanity maintenance regimen I took an aerial silks class at the Trapeze School-NY on Saturday. It was ridiculously fun and challenging. My shoulders, my forearms and pecs are sore, but in the best possible way. I had such a good time I'm going back next weekend.

Oh and I also checked out a new trail . And somewhere in there was dancing and drinkies and a few too many late nights, but I feel good and had a much needed enjoyable weekend.

Trail inspiration

Yay pix (or at least a single picture)! I'm working on getting a new camera (why are there so many options?!?) and on finding my inspiration these days. The weather is bumming me out, as is the parade of semi-flaky running partners. *sigh*