Do not go quietly into those Spanx

Quick Rant...

Was having a conversation with an otherwise reasonable seeming woman when we got on to the discussion of tattoos. She stated that she had been getting her tattoos strategically in places that won't stretch as she gets fatter. I was baffled, why was gaining weight even an option? Why accept weight gain as an inevitability. I understand that factors like childbirth and menopause will prevent me from remaining 118lbs for ever but I refuse to ever be of a weight that my skin is distorted. I guess this is the closest I'll ever come to understanding the mentality of obesity, that some people just accept there is nothing you can do. But you can! You can fight it just by adjusting your relationships with food and exercise. Don't focus on the things you don't like, find the things you do. I can guarantee there is a vegetable or cardio workout for everyone.

I refuse to accept frailty as an option as well. It never fails when I'm at the grocery store, I usually am just in to grab a few things so I won't get a cart (helps cut down on impulse buys). I'll hand carry my items to the counter, the cashier will scan it and the bagboy will sack it. One of them will ask if I need help out to my car. When I do have a lot of items or if it's a young kid that you know is just doing what they're told, it doesn't bother me. But every now and then I can tell they are asking because they think it's a ridiculous amount for one person to carry... despite the fact that I carried it there all by myself (which I am always quick to point out). I just got this the other day, I was buying cat litter and soda (not intending to use those products together), and the cashier was a woman of 60 or maybe 70, not much older than my own mother. She was thin, frail, and looked older than her years; she struggled to pull the litter across the scanner. I reached for the 25lb box with my left arm, already holding the soda in the right, and she remarks "Oh honey, you should get a cart. You'll give yourself a hernia." I thoughtlessly remarked, "Oh it's only 25lbs," and picked it up from the counter one handed. As I walked away I realized the gravity of that exchange. I certainly take my youth for granted, I possess strength, stamina, and flexibility that I expect as standard for everyone. If I can do it, anyone can. And at some point my body will start to rob the calcium from my bones and the protein from my muscles, but this woman was, as I said, not much older than my own mother who is a triathlete, runs a 3 hour half marathon, avid kayaker and also scoffs at the idea of a 25lb box being something to fear. She is proof that it's never too late to get your fitness where you want it.

Never accept something as inevitable, unavoidable, or beyond your grasp. If you can set your heart on it, you can do it.

Drugs and Guns

Well alright, woke up at 2 so today was completely useless. I putzed around and played with my new toy (Asus Transformer tablet with Android) and at one point stuffed a vespa style scooter and a very tall man into the back of my car. That seemed productive enough. Tomorrow shall be the long awaited return to reality. Waking up at a decent hour, getting back into a workout schedule and eating actual food instead of protein bars, coffee and alcohol. Fringe has been one long, wild ride and I'm sad that it's over but the robot camp is the week after next so I will soon be spending time again with my wonderful Dog Powered Robot Family. I hope to continue the friendships and connections that I have made over the past week, so many exciting and talented people.

Oh and here's my rant about the Miami Cannibal. It's just a stream of consciousness opinion, not an actual article.

The story of the Miami Cannibal has spread faster than the facts can keep up with it. The cliff notes are a man in a drug induced mania happened upon an unfortunate victim, and decided to remove his pants and eat his face. Video of the incident shows several motorists and cyclists passing by, not one stopping to intervene. The attack lasts for 18 minutes before the officer finally arrives and guns the man down. The whole thing is quite horrific and while I was first fascinated by this story I think it's reached a point of insensitivity. Everyone is making jokes and references to the Zombie Apocalypse and openly posting the graphic photo of the victim. All fun and games until you realize the family of the homeless man didn't even know he was alive until the story broke. I think there are several very important issues here that are being missed because of the sensationalism of this story.

Pappo was once a bright and promising youth. Then he just slipped, multiple arrests on petty charges and just sort of disappearing from the lives of his family. That alone should be sparking a conversation on the causes of homelessness and what can be done to prevent it. At no point did no one try to intervene in his life?  It can be near impossible to get someone to change if they don't want to, especially when substance abuse or mental illness is a factor. Who becomes responsible for a person when released from an institution, such a prison. At what point do the red flags go up, 3 arrests? 5? 20? Is it the responsibility of the system, of the family, of society in general? Homelessness needs to be looked at like a disease, something to be prevented not just cured. There are so many resources available but they are underfunded or unknown to many people who need them.

As for Eugene, I've read some articles saying he was on cocaine, some claiming bath salts (synthetic cocaine), but what matters is that he was on a drug in the first place. Say what you want about "nanny laws", drug laws are there for a reason. Yes, what you do to your body is your own business but when a substance makes a person a danger to society that is where the line must be drawn. Anything that has the power to substantially the behaviour of a person does need to be controlled and regulated but when someone can purchase something like bath salts at a gas station but be arrested for an ounce of pot, the laws need to be revised.

Lastly, I've read comments of people being shocked at how many witnesses there were to this broad daylight attack and that nobody intervened. I've driven through Miami there is so much happening on the road itself that sometimes it is difficult to pay attention to anything other than the cars around you. And if you do see something like that all you can do is call the police.

Or shoot the motherfucker yourself.

I am sure that every single person that had called in the incident, had they been properly trained and sufficiently armed would have stepped in. This wasn't a simple fight that could have been broken up by a can of mace. A crazed, nude man was eating another man's face! Even if I had come across the scene and I was armed with mace I would have been hesitant of using it. What if that wasn't enough to deter or stop him, what if by doing so he would become enraged and come after me? I can guarantee, unless you have extensive hand to hand combat training, nothing short of a gun or taser set to crispy was going to bring him. When the cop shot him the first time, the guy simply growled and continued the attack. How is a guy on a bike armed with an iPhone going to be able to stop that? So kudos to all the citizens that did the right thing by calling it in but this story proves how important it is for private citizens to obtain firearms. For personal protection as well as to aid in the safety of their fellow citizens.

Fresh

From December 30th till January 3rd, I was asked what my New Year’s Resolution was. I would reply that I had none because, to me, they are meaningless. My New Years Resolution for 2011 was to learn to drive stick. I had one lesson which ended after 20 terrifying minutes. A second try involved a solo attempt to move my boyfriend's manual car into our garage. I stalled every time I tried to drop into gear. It would lurch forward violently and I was able to get the car half way in using this method before it died entirely. Needless to say, I will be keeping my bike ready in the event of apocalypse and both my car and my boyfriend are immobilized. Despite such a crushing failure of determination, I’d say that 2011 was still pretty action packed.  I learned the basics of aerial gymnastics, performed as a fire eater, got two paid TV gigs, set a PR for 5k and ran my first half marathon, was crowned the first female Scareactor of the Year (voted by other actors) and also Performer of the Year (decided by management) for third time in a row for Halloween Horror Nights.

All in all, I’d say pretty damn accomplished.

So I’ve decided resolutions are not for me...

Can't keep a good dog down!

Here we go, 3 months to go till the Women's Running Half Marathon. Officially signed up, no turning back now. Still haven't hit the 13 mile mark but I know I can do it. My only worry is my knee. You see, a few months ago I fell about 10 feet, the outside of my right knee being what broke my fall. I was in a good deal of pain for a few days but after some RICE and two weeks off any strenuous running, I felt fine. I even ran in the Champion's ESPN 5K at Disney's Hollywood (with it wrapped) and did fine. The knee was behaving and gave me no sign of further problems until my runs started going past an hour long. At first it was just a minor twinge, just sort of reminding me that I might be mortal. But the hour and a half 11 mile adventure brought out a protest I could not ignore. It was no longer a whimper of ache that was gone as soon as I stopped moving but as I reached the hour mark of the run, it felt like an rather distinct, sharp tear feeling to the outside tendon. This is alarming. At the insisting of my boyfriend (who is often more concerned for my health than I am), I took some time to give my knee a chance to get over itself. A few days turned to two weeks far too easily but I'm back on the horse with a bit more caution. Since I was off my feet so long I've started over in my training and switched over from Polar to the Active.com training plan, a free offer for signing up for the race through them. Pretty straight forward plan, effort based rather that pace or heart rate with mileage goals at the end of the week that gradually increase and cross training days on the schedule. The 14 week plan does cut it close to race day, my first 13 mile goal the week before the half marathon but I feel that will be plenty of prep. The main trouble I may run in to is keeping on schedule in October, my busiest month of the year. But more on that later, just know I'm still going and I'll see ya at the finish line in St. Pete!

At the foothills

Finally getting the hang of getting out the door before 8am. It’s amazing the temperature difference a half hour can make. I only had a 35 minute run today but it’s the looming 110 minute tomorrow that I was thinking about. 18km/11 miles. This whole “half-marathon” idea is getting more and more real. I’m excited and nervous and just hoping I can push through it. Going to try driving out to a nearby trail because there just isn’t enough uninterrupted space to run that far around here. Also feeling ambitious enough to get up at 6 to get out early enough. Wish me luck and see you on the other side of tomorrow!

Week....?

Somebody turn down this heat already. And don't know what got into me today but took off in a sprint for my warm up. Spent the rest of this interval run trying to recover my pace. At least I made my full mileage, all 10km today. Sorry I haven't been posting too often. I've been a little consumed with another project lately. But my runs are on track and I'm slowly building the endurance I'm going to need come November. A lot of big stuff is currently hanging in the air for me, so just gotta keep moving.

Week 1: aka week 11 from 10k training

The week began with a breezy 8km run. I kept my pace and met my mileage. Now I know "easy" and "8k" sound like the ramblings of a mental patient, but after completing Polar's 10k Training Program, it was a distance I had done before and knew I could cover at a comfortable pace. The phenomena of expectation is a funny thing. I used to look at the idea of anything beyond my comfort zone of 5k as a dream. Now I know what to expect and how it feels to go the distance and it's good to know I can do it. That certainly helped get the ball rolling on this journey to 13.1 miles. If I had woken up that day thinking of trying to run a half marathon, I have my doubts I would have gotten out of bed. Even thinking that by the end of the week I was going to put more miles on my feet than on my car would have been intimidating. I didn't even think "Okay, just 8 kilometers and then you can make a great big smoothie with all the peanut butter you want". Instead, I thought about the route. I thought about the path around the sleepy golf course and through the quiet park that my run would take me on. Places that I'd run through before. Yes I know how far those distances are but it's nice to not have a big number staring you down. So that's lesson one, if a distance seems intimidating, just think about lefts and rights; think about landmarks not mile markers. Figure out your route for the distance you need and then forget about the numbers. Just know "Okay this is my long day route, my short day route, my hill route..." and so on.

The most notable run of the short week was a 30 minute run that I had been putting off all day. For whatever reason, I never got around to running that morning, never made it to the gym, and before I knew it the time was 8pm and it was now or never. The sun had just settled below the horizon but the reflective blanket of clouds would keep the light for another hour or so. I took my time getting ready, hoping the heat of the day would have time to dissipate and not smother me on this quick jog. Laced and wired up, I finally step outside, trot down the three flights and step out from under the awning to be greeted by thick, black clouds that still glowed by the dying sunset. A heavy rumble, like that of some unfathomable beast asserting it's territory, called down and rattled the windows behind me. The trees danced and bowed and shook about as the wind swept up to deliver the smell of not so far off rain. The sky thundered again, daring me to a test of speed. Who will be faster, a mortal or the Lightning Gods? I smirked and took off into the misty dusk air.

The rain quickly turned from a fine spray to heavy drops so I began to follow the cover of the trees marking the boundary of the course. I darted beneath the canopies until a very near crack of thunder reminded me of my elementary days living in Texas and being lectured on the dangers of lightning and proximity to trees. I quickly began to reevaluate my cleverness and charted a new path, weaving in and out of the hallways of the apartment buildings that pressed up along the edges of the golf course. I ran out of apartment hallways at about 10 minutes into my run and the rain had retreated long enough for me to cross the street and reach the shelter of a series of businesses. The connected overhangs that I used as relief from the sun most days now protected me from the threat of Zeus's bolt. Still I knew my return route would be less sufficient and the skies did not look like they had any intention of giving me safe passage. The clouds were gathering together, growing darker and towering higher and higher. The sound of electricity ripping through the air grew more agitated and frequent; apparently the Lightning Gods are sore losers. As I reached the end of the strip mall and met my turn around point, the wind began to kick up again, bringing rain that cooled my brow and sent sweat dripping into my eyes. It wasn't strong enough yet to saturate my clothes or flood the sidewalk and thus was not strong enough to make me give up the contest. As I bounded up a hill there was a sudden flash of light behind me followed by the crash of thunder. I shuddered forward with the shock from the lightning and doubled my pace without a thought to logic or scientific understanding of the speed of sound and light.

With 10 minutes left, I came around the other side of an office building to 500 meters of side walk and empty lot. I paused briefly to scan the exposed horizon; the sidewalk connects two tall multi-use buildings, with nothing on but dirt and wild, patchy grass on either side. On sunny days, this stretch is like running under a giant magnifying glass in the hands of some sadistic, immature ent. That night, however, there was no sun, no killing heat, but also hardly any rain and an uninterrupted, panoramic view of an angry, ominous sky that threatened with voltage and vengeance. Impressive displays of static electricity danced from cloud to cloud and mocked the conductivity of my puny, 75% water muscles. I gathered my energy, thought rubber thoughts, and sprinted across the stretch of deserted land, thunder practically nipping at my heels. I made it to the other side and under the building's overhang and out the other side to cross the street for the home run. And of course in this last five minutes the rain began to come down with impatiences. It gathered on the ground and began to seep onto the sidewalk. Cars began to turn on their wipers. The sweat that was already pouring from me was washed away before even having a chance to cool. I could see the final turn I had to make up ahead and as I came around I came full on into the wind, pushing me at the shoulders and chest and face. I pressed on as the coach voice on my iPod counted down "5 minutes... 4 minutes... 3 minutes". Lightning flashed and thunder shook soon after, warning of the proximity of the storm. "2 minutes... 1 minute," as I came into the neighborhood and as I reached my building the Nike coach announced that I had completed my run. And not a second to spare, soon as I shut the door, the skies finally opened and poured down. I had done it I had raced against the Lightning Gods and I had won.

Follow Me to the Women's Running Half Marathon

The Women's Running Half Marathon and 5/10k is a specatular event. The race takes place in late November in St. Petersburg, Florida, which might be one of the best times to be outside in Florida. It's unofficially an only women race and the sensations of pride, empowerment, and sorority float on the cold bay breeze. I ran last year as a 5k participant and had a ball. This year I will be running the full 13.1 miles around my old stomping grounds. Why did I choose this race to mark my first competitive attempt at distance running? Why try to run a half marathon at all?

Why the swag of course!

It's a pendant, it's a medal, it's a pedal! ...no wait that's not right.

Honestly I want to start traveling more for races. That is my goal with this blog. I want to travel the country, maybe even the world, to experience races all over in all their pomp and ceremony. I want to meet other runners and to encourage others to get out and be active. I want an excuse to make weekend get-a-ways to cities I've always wanted to see. I want to write about these races as the madness on foot that they are in a way that could only be accomplished by gonzo journalism. I certainly can't capture all of that in a 5k run. To drive an hour and a half across town to get on a plane to fly four or five hours on a red eye, check into a hotel in the host city, get up at five in the morning to get to the race site, spend the next hour dwaldling and stretching and muscling for position, then the two hour after party, an unforeseeable amount of time goofing off and exploring the city only to fly back to be back to reality on Monday, all that for only 30 minutes of running? It seems hardly justified. So I've decided to start working on longer distances and running them faster. I'm starting to get close to the top of my age group in most of the 5k's that I run and it suddenly pace and starting position seem like the matter.

I've tried out a couple of web based training programs and I am sticking with Polar. I like doing the heart rate based training because when I feel I'm finished and I need to slow down I can look down at that friendly little monitor and it tells me, "Keep it moving, this is only 75%," and when my power song pops up and I want to run all out during a rest interval it reminds me to hold back. I have noticed my pace has improved since I started wearing a heart rate monitor and I have been able to go further much quicker than with programs I've tried in the past. This week starts off where I left off with my 10k training, with a goal of three runs totaling at just under 20km for the week. Next week I have 4 runs at 28km and gradually building from there. The program includes rest weeks with lighter loads and heart rate targets with warm up and peak periods for each run. I'm very excited to see where this goal will take me and what the journey will be like. Stay tuned! Better yet, try to keep up!

Detox

It's spring, a time for cleansing and rebirth. The earth is awakening and coming back to life, arisening from the winter as often symbolized through ancient spring time customs and beliefs. One third of the year has already passed us, yes New Years was already four months ago, and it is time to take a moment to assess and ask ourselves.... When the hell did it get to be April? Seriously it finally dawned on me that my March 2nd birthday has come and gone and I have been 26 for a month. I feel like someone broke in and rearranged all my furniture. Where has all the time gone, when did time start moving so quick, have I done anything this year, and what exactly have I been doing?

Updating twitter, it turns out.

In a moment of epiphany, I realized how addicted I have become to my media. I find myself compulsively checking my email and social network for something new, even though I have several devices that will alert me if there is anything new. I check first thing in the morning and last thing at night. If I say "Oh, I'm only going to see if she wrote me back," I am guaranteed to find an interesting article that someone has posted, which inevitably leads to time being sucked away in massive chunks as I jump from link to link like a cyber Tarzan with ADHD.

Funny story, when you google "Cyber Tarzan", this is the first image hit.

It's gotten so bad that I find myself compulsively reaching for my phone as soon as I come to a full stop at red lights. It was quite distressing on my latest road trip to find that, despite wearing a bluetooth headset that would whisper in my ear to let me know if I have received an e-mail, call, or text, I still had to fight the urge to grab the device and look just to be sure. Have I become so sunk into the addiction that I no longer trust the devices that promised to free me from being glued to a glowing screen? Is my denial so bad that I question the infallibility of these gadgets whose combined value probably exceed that of my entire wardrobe? Do I truly believe that if there is not an app for that, then it is nothing? Apparently yes. It's gone beyond social media; I can't seem to turn off the tv, the radio, the xbox. I spend so much time scrolling my Netflix list just to pick out something to listen to in the background (which never works; I average one t-shirt folded per 10 minutes of playback). And I am by no means a "gamer" but when I spent an hour playing Kinect table tennis which caused me to almost throw out my shoulder and be late for a date I think it's time to start making some guidelines. My obsession isn't too bad, in fact when I have music or talk radio playing I find myself very productive and managing my time well. It's when the radio is off that I have trouble with racing thoughts, frequently derailed trains of thought, and losing chronological awareness. There is almost always a pair of headphones on my person; I am that girl that goes to the shops with the giant cans on her head.

So as with all addictions, it's time for an intervention. I need to break myself of habit and compulsion and develop a health relationship with media. I've spent so much time consuming other people's creativity that I have not taken the time to develop my own. That being said... how do I do it? After a grueling Google search (consisting of the first 4 links on the first page) I have found hardly any useful information. So instead I'm going to follow the "Quit Smoking" guidelines I keep sending to Andy and treat this just as seriously. I plan to take the next week or two to log my daily habits, be the Jane Goodall of me; keeping track of how and when I access media, why, and what I was feeling. My official detox date will be April 29, from that day it will be one solid week, cold turkey, to just the cellphone with data swiched off and radio without headphones. I will allow for 10 minutes for e-mail only in the mornings and in the evenings and I can watch the news from 6pm-7pm but that is to keep me up to date on the real world and also so I don't miss any bookings for work. Beyond that I'll be friggen Amish. I also plan to write about the experience, which means one tweet a day and at the end of the week I will post what I have compiled throughout the week. Who knows, I may even finish all the race reports I keep promising you! In the meantime I plan to continue the research into breaking obsessive and compulsive behaviour and what is a reasonable plan when I open the gates to the media stream once more.

Wish me luck and if you have any thoughts, suggestions, similar experiences, or references please leave me a comment!

No Excuses.

For the past week, a sinus infection has been kicking my butt. I feel awful, just dreadful. Death warmed over.

No seriously. I look like Richard Hammond.

It's pretty scary.

But yet, I soldier on. I slacked off this weekend because I was feeling sick and just plain didn't have time to run. I know, terrible. Today though, I was determined not to slacking off in my training. Come hell or high water, I was going to run. It may not be raining today but it feels like trying to suck air from water out there right now. I definitely felt that right at half way after coming up over the tallest hill on my route. And waiting till three in the afternoon was no help. The 24 hours of rain yesterday did nothing to cool things down. It didn't feel oppressive or midsummer, but I passed a woman, at the beginning of my cool down, she looked at me with such horror. Upon getting back to the apartment I saw why. My face was so flushed it looked painted red. I had tied a shoe too tight which had me crying for my Five Fingers for the first half, finally adjusted it but too late to prevent the blister on my arch. Which means I can guarantee we will be doing nothing but foot lock in aerial tonight and I will be bleeding by the end. Snot was pouring out of my nose by the end and once my breathing was controlled I felt very swimming, there was a lot of pressure in my head as the infection made it's last stand and pressed against everything. All I want to do is go lay down and play Portal until I fall asleep but I still have an hour and a half of climbing, spinning, dropping, and hanging from 15ft in the air. At this point I'm sure you're all asking the same question.

Why the hell would you do this to yourself?

Because I love it. Because it will get me to my goal. Because it's the only way I get to take an hour and not do anything for anyone else, be selfish and plug into my head phones and shut off the rest of the world and not feel one bit guilty for not doing something tangibly productive. Because as long as brave men and women are returning home from terrible lands, with limbs they've left behind, and get up and go for a run with their new limbs of plastic and aluminum, and still pass people, then I've got no excuse.

Because I can't let the excuses win. And don't you dare let them win either. When you don't think you have time for your workout, take an inventory of the your day. Find ways to shave some time to squeeze it it. There's almost always, guaranteed, 30 minutes of wasted time. The internet does a good job of that. I have a bad problem with getting on my computer to check one quick thing and then next thing I know I've lost 3 hours of my life reading articles about working out, instead of actually working out. How many of us watch a show simply because it's on between two good shows? That's the perfect time to throw in a quick cardio burst. Don't be afraid to power walk in your pjs. When you walk your dog, actually walk! But most importantly, don't let excuses get in your way. I have let myself down too many times because I didn't go for a run, broke my workout routine, and never progressed. I always had a reason, I was tired or not feeling 100% or I ran out of time (before my show came on) but really what it all comes down to is that I was just letting lazy win. So next time ask yourself, do I really need to see another miserable 30 minutes of "Mad Love" or should I go for a walk?

Lake Eola Run

It took me three laps of Lake Eola to realize there was no free parking. Shows me better than to trust the Internet. After stopping in a grocery store, paying three dollars for a one dollar drink to obtain change, and one more lap of the park before I found a spot by this time I was already ten minutes late for the meet up time that I had set. And of course I was the last to arrive. I spotted the group right away. There was Jorge, a friend from work who insists his name is pronounced "George" Chris, who I had met through my boyfriend; and Brian, who I knew through my father and who had brought Lytle, a friend from work. Somehow these four people, who had never met, had never even spoken online, whose only connection to each other was me, managed to figure out they were all waiting around on that very same person.

"Finally!" Jorge exclaimed as I ran up to them. Brian joined in "Yeah, way to be late to your own party!"

"Hey there's a reason I have parties at my house. Can't be late to your own living room." I bent over to tie my shoes and quickly stretch out as we made our game plan. One lap all together around the path tracing just outside the boundaries of the park. The sun hung just high enough in the sky to keep us warm, and the wind was just swift enough to keep us cool. There was not a cloud in the sky but the ample trees and the tall buildings that surround Lake Eola park were enough to give plenty of shade throughout the course. This azure gem at the center of Orlando's buzzing downtown was the absolute perfect setting for the first run of the Orlando Run and Glug Club.

Okay maybe club is a little too serious of a word but Alcoholic Athletes Facebook Group just doesn't have the same ring to it. But that's what we are. As it stands right now the club consists of my friends and a few of their friends, we get together once a week, run, and cool down at the nearest bar. No we're not hashers, not that there's anything wrong with that...

As tradition would have it, my iPod crashed the moment we started running. What is the point of running if you don't have the data to prove you have done it? But there was no turning back now. The narrow sidewalk and varying paces quickly formed the pack. The experienced runners, Lytle and Brian, took the front and Chris and Jorge, the beginners, brought up the rear. I ended up falling to the middle and somehow managed to hold a conversation between the front and the back. We stuck together and held a solid pace for the first lap. The park was alive with activities all around; people everywhere, though it never felt crowded. The population at the lake was incredibly diverse, made up of families, young couples, other runners, and even a large group of hipsters feeding the homeless. I'm not sure if one man had been homeless or a hipster but he felt the need to cheer us on as we ran past. At one point a young college student, of Asian descent, claimed a spot on the scenic pier to start playing bagpipes. I'm not sure why he had a tip case set out but our pace time always improved when we ran past.

As we came around to the last turn before the Amphitheater, Brian suggested a quick interval to finish out the lap. Feeling good still, we were all in. As we rounded the corner, Brian, Lytle,and Jorge all quickened their stride. Chris, however, double his pace and soon took the lead. Having held back the whole lap, I couldn't resist the urge to showboat. I broke out into a burst sprint, quickly over taking the whole group to come up even with the Chris.

"Oh so you want to go real fast, huh?"

"Uuuugghh no!" he moaned as I comfortably doubled the distance between us.

He later explained that, in his infinite genius, he planned to get far enough ahead of us that when it was time to slow down again he'd have plenty of time to recover as we caught up. This, of course, did nothing but leave him to strain for the second lap. Despite our pace evening out and the group reformed by the time it was time to start the second lap. We kept together for a while but fatigue was starting to show in the novices. Brian and Lytle went on at their pace and I proceeded to quite literally run circles around the boys. The rest of the run we kept up a mildly strenuous pace with slight intervals. It's amazing how much further you can go when you break up a distance into small chunks. 3 miles is a ridiculous amount to run, but five minutes at a hard pace and then five to catch your breath then repeat and you suddenly forget how many times you passed that game of hackey sack. It helped that we were never passed by the speed twins. Okay so maybe a 5-6min km isn't break neck but it can be a morale killer when you're first starting.

Suddenly we where coming up on the last leg of the last lap. Once last rest interval for the boys before putting it all out to cross the finish line. I decided to get in a little extra mileage by cutting back and on to the inner path that winded around the lake then meeting back with them at the last corner. I was quite surprised to see they were ahead of me when I merged back to the sidewalk. I wasn't far behind, coming up on them quick and we regrouped right as we rounded the corner. "Show your stuff, boys!" I shouted over my shoulder as I sprinted past them. The amphitheater was coming up quick and I still had some left in me. Brian and Lytle waved as I darted past; I was determined to make it to the end of the street and surely I was half way. That wall hit about half way past half way, however, and I felt all the energy drop out of my legs. My pace slowed and it felt like a struggle to not just turn around right there. Oh I'll be damned if I'm going to give up in front of all this traffic. I found one last pocket of energy and made it to the end, slapped the light pole as I turned around and trudged back exhausted.

I reached the group and did the best I could to pretend that that was totally what I meant to do. A quick headciunt to check we were all alive and then we made our way to the Relax Grill, an open air bar and grill tucked right along the shore. I'll tell you a pitcher of Stella never tasted so good. As we chatted, Jorge checked the data from his nifty GPS app and informed us that we did three point nine miles! These beginners doubted they'd be able to do much more than one mile and here we sit, alive and well, with almost four miles on our shoes! Just goes to show, no excuses just go.

Posting for Posting's Sake

 While I sit here and wait for iTunes to finish dumping 130gbs of music onto my iPod, I figure I should do something productive rather than shoveling homemade kettle corn into my mouth. Kettle corn that I had made for my upcoming road trip. Nothing special, just heading down to Boyton Beach tonight for a friend's birthday party and maybe a burlesque show. I know I promised a recap on the Run For The Children race at Universal and I swear it's in the works, but for now here's a brief summary of all the things I've been doing that's been keeping me from writing said review.

 Well first off, I've started learning aerial. Yes the crazy, 30 feet up in the air hanging by your foot from a silk, aerials. And I'm in love with it! It's a hell of a work out and by the end of an hour and a half class I can be as bruised and sore as I was after roller derby practice. To some of you that may not sound like such a good time but it's worth it. When you wrap your self up to what an impossible height (okay maybe 15 feet), just to let go and free fall to the ground to stop just above the oh so reassuring 1" thick mat and realize you could do it a million times more, you feel a mixture of adrenaline and accomplishment that I can't even begin to compare to anything I've done before.  When I'm twisted up, swinging around, dangling upside down, I feel the glee I had as an 8 year old playing on the monkey bars. The childlike energy that pours into me I'm sure exhausts the other students as they work to master the trick I just did on the first attempt. I really do turn into a kid for an hour and half, which isn't saying much since I am operating at the maturity level of 12 year old boy at any given point. Though, my first time attempting a major drop, I was in such disbelief that it was possible for me to do. Essentially I had wrapped the silks around my thighs in a way that looked like a rock climbing harness, sitting in a straddle and doing my best to ignore the mega wedgie this position created. Then my instructor tells me to bring my body in front of the silks, still holding on above my head. That's easy peasy, though I scared the shit out of him when I let go of the ropes to do this, apparently you're only supposed to go one hand at a time. After he over comes the shock, he tells me to let go and spread my arms like a bird as I fall forward.

"Uuuuuuuuuummmm, what?"

"Trust me, just put your arms out and you'll be fine," he assures me. "Okay, if you say so," and with that I let go. Now I've done plenty of falls... in a harness... remaining upright the entire way... and with trained medical professionals usually nearby. Never have I done a fall that would, as far as I could tell, unravel my harness. Time slows in moment of hesitation, I take in a deep breath, then I feel my hands let go of the silk. At this point Time realizes the rest of the world has gone on without him and ran to catch up. A scream more appropriate for a cat who's just had it's tail stepped on escapes from my lungs and suddenly I'm at the bottom of the rope, still hanging in the "harness". Sure enough my arms were straight out, aching from the sudden impact of the taunt silks, but I was alive and otherwise unscatched! When that realization I suddenly became an 8 year old again. I jumped out of the silks and began to bounce around, asking to try it again before I let somebody else have a turn. The other girls were looking at the silks as if they were made of mutant cobras. So I jumped back into them and wrapped myself up again. As I settled at the top I felt the scream building in my lungs and Hesitation holding me by the shoulder. Hell no, I've done it once, now I can do this and no one can take that away from me. I closed my eyes so the scream wouldn't know when to come out and let go while Hesitation looked the other way. No scream or surprise at the bottom, just adrenaline and accomplishment. I spent the rest of the class feeling like I was chomping at the bit, ready to do it again, to try the next big and bold trick. It's my latest drug of choice.

But I haven't forgotten running! Oh no, I just ran my second longest distance yet, thanks to the Nike coached runs. If you haven't tried these things yet and you're not the best self motivator, do yourself the favour and get a couple of albums. They're perfectly done. I will have a more in depth review of the few I have after I've tried them a couple of times. I have been using the Kara Goucher's Endurance Boost on and off for a while now and I love it. The coached runs, if you haven't checked them out yet, are essentially a playlist with the BPM set to the pace levels of what you're trying to accomplished. They're all interval training based and the coaches popping in with motivational feedback are very encouraging. And so far I love the music that's picked for these workouts. Quite a few popular artists, as well as some lesser knowns. I'm just the music might be out of reach for some, they do feel a bit geared to the hip and indie, but they don't get played out. What's really interesting is how you feel when you hear that song come on the radio, or at work, or just randomly through your iPod. This Pavlovian desire to just start running or do something awesome kicks into your head. It gets you motivated and thinking "Okay, when's my next run?" Nike also has finally updated their Training Club application. I first began using the iPhone version of the app when it was the "Women's Fit Club" and it was glitchy as all hell. Since then they've ditched the original application and reworked it so that instead of being a list of work outs that crash every time you try to use it, you get several coached and timed workouts. You can even set your own music, playing directly from your own library, and earn rewards like celebrity athletes' workouts and specialized recipes. I've been using the app, in conjunction with the aerial training, to focus on my core and in three week's I'm already seeing the ab muscles I lost when I stopped doing P90x.

So as you can see, all and all I've been quite busy. And yes I have been writing here and there to finish my race review. Need to have it out before the next race! I've also been working on a super secret podcast which you will be hearing more about in the next few weeks. Stay tuned!

Gonzo Sports Journalist

Tomorrow is the first run of the year; the Dick Bachelor Run for Children 5k hosted by Universal Orlando. It will be bittersweet to be in this race since I had orignially planned to run in the Warrior Dash. Luck would have it that when I finally got around to signing up, I had missed the deadline by 3 hours. I had been looking forward to the 5k obstacle course for two months but now I'm kind of happy to not be trudging through mud in 60 degree weather.

All in all it should work out to be a fun race. I'm especially excited to not have to wake up at 4 in the morning to get to the race site on time, seeing as how I live about 2 miles from the park. Universal Studios is also sort of a second home to me; since I moved to Orlando, much of my life has been linked to the Studios in one way or another. From college outings, to my time as a pedicabber and my induction to the cast of real monsters that make up Halloween Horror Nights, Universal Studios Orlando has become my alma mater. I have so many friends I consider my family, I even met my boyfriend through my employment there.

So to be let loose with a couple hundred other people to run through both parks and the City Walk area should be quite the experience. Will my internal map of the area help me to run faster through the narrow runs and changing surface area? Will this be the first race where I successfully time my sprint to the finish to maximize my time?

Will they have the Minions and the Penguins of Madagascar characters out to cheer us on?

No matter what the results are, this should be a fun race and a great way to bring in the new year. I plan to run at least one race each month with a goal of faster times, increased distances, and more frequent writing about it!

Baby, it's cold outside

To deal with record breaking cold, inexperienced Floridians are driving up the workload on their electric heaters. On the news, they were explaining that not only is this expensive but it is causing rolling brown outs. They then cut to an exterior shot of a house lit up with enough Christmas lights to land a 747. Idiots.

So here's an idea. Until this cold snap moves on, let's cut down on the nonessentials. I'm pretty sure you can live without your giant inflatable dancing Santa if it means the family down the street doesn't all have to huddle together for warmth. I will not be plugging in my tree, lighted garland, or even the digital picture frame. I live on the 3rd floor of my building so I can take advantage of heat rising from the apartments below. The average temp in the house is 70, but my thermostat is set to 65. Yeah I can't wander around in the nude but at least I know our heater won't burn out and leave us wearing motorcycle leathers to bed. The sun never really hits our side of the building so I'm keeping my heavy drapes closed to block out cold. Normally we don't latch the door to our patio so the cats can open the door to go in and out. Unfortunately the wind has been doing the same so now the door is closed. Though it is pretty funny to watch them run headlong right into the door and stumble away dazed and confused.

These are merely examples. Just hope it inspires you to take a moment and look around to decide what doesn't need to be plugged in. I know it's less cheery and that dark tree doesn't quite herald in the Christmas cheer but every little bit helps. Give back to the power grid and we can all sleep a little snugger. Of course you can flip on the lights when your holiday revelers arrive, but you're not having a party every night.

At least I hope not...

And if you are, where's my invite?

The Shavening

So who are my Twitter fans? If you have been anywhere near my twitter posts, you've noticed my countdown. In case you missed what I've been counting down to, well to this weekend. At the stroke of Midnight this Saturday, I will be shaving my head.

That's right, I will be bald. 

And I am excited. And I am terrified. I can't wait. I can't wait to get it over with. I am anxious in every sense of the term. I can't wait to see what I'll look like, and I can't wait to see what it will look like when it grows back in. This will be the first time in my life I've not had hair on my head. I'm serious; ask my mother, I was born with a full head of hair.

A lot of people have asked me why, and when I respond with “why not” they seem less than satisfied. To be honest, I’ve always been curious to see what’s lying underneath this big red mop. For some reason, that isn’t good enough; but now when I explain that I am shaving for my role in this year’s Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios Orlando, people seem to be more accepting. I don’t know why people find the idea that the decision is out of my hands so comforting, I wonder if it is because they would be too scared to do it themselves. Whatever the reason, my reasons for doing so always seem to end up becoming more and more involved. What was originally just an impulsive decision made from a vague curiosity has now become a deep, redefinition of my identity and understanding of my feminine self.

Hair is important to women. We pamper it, we talk to it, we have entire rituals and businesses devoted to it. “I can’t go out, I’m washing my hair.” A woman’s hair speaks in volumes about her; a short cut says sporty and defiant, long is glamorous and flirty, simple cuts say practical and forward thinking, even a simple wash and wear style says busy and low maintenance. Women develop relationships with their hair. I know I’ve had days where I felt my hair was rebelling and every time I threaten to cut it, it begins to cooperate. How the hair looks can determine the makeup and wardrobe choices of the day. The affect the weather is going to have on her hair can change all of a woman’s plans for the day. Throughout myth and lore, a woman’s hair often housed her magical powers or abilities. Women used to give her most prized possession, a lock of her hair, to her beau. There are charities specifically devoted to getting lush, realistic wigs to women undergoing medical traumas that result in hair loss. And to take away this icon is somehow disfiguring.  Hair loss in men is something socially accepted, no one gives a bald man a second look, but a bald woman is a stigma. “There must be something wrong,” “She must be a lesbian,” “She must have mental issues.”

To be mentally fit, secure in my heterosexual identity and excessively healthy, I can’t help but wonder how people will react to me. I know people that know me will not be shocked because I am doing it; they just seem shocked that a woman is doing it. Fascinating how the people who know me separate my core personality from my status as a woman. And I know people who don’t know me will go through those assumptions (illness, be it physical or mental). What I will be curious to find out is how differently people will treat me on a subconscious level. I know I get away with a lot because I’m a cute red-head and I know I use this to my advantage. What I don’t know is how much this going to change. I may not be a “red head” but will I still be cute? Will it matter? Let’s be honest, we’re all more likely to respond better to the attractive, no matter what gender they are. It’s evolutionary physiology (or some other combination of big words meaning it’s in our nature). Will people still be so forgiving when I screw up, drop the ball, or generally flake? Do people respond to my beaming personality or flirty smile? I’ve always had an amazing ability to get away with a lot of crazy shit, will people be so amused when it’s the Sinead O’Conner wanna-be that’s doing it? With all this focus on looks, I am panic stricken at the idea of no longer having my hair to hide behind. My thick copper locks conceal my uneven ears, my bumpy forehead, and my mismatched eyebrows. What if on top of that I have a funny shaped head, or a dent? What if I have a huge, vaguely phallic birthmark??? It’s one thing to no longer be a red-head, I’ve experienced that through my various color phases, but if I’m not cute, what am I? Is confidence really that beautiful, as we are lead to believe in Cosmo and on Tyra, or are I confident BECAUSE I am beautiful? I feel confident that I can talk my way out of just about anything, but I’m pretty sure that smile and flick of the hair must help.

But scariest of all, what if nobody notices?

But for all this terror and fret, I am intrigued by what the next two months will hold. I will have to confront this new girl in the mirror and come to a new understanding of my self image. I will have to define what makes me feminine, find where glamorous truly lies. This experiment has so much potential to strip me of the insecurities that get swept up in sweeping bangs. I will have to learn to get passed the wall of obsessive reflection; a term I just made up, meaning that sensation of “They’re all going to notice” when in fact, everybody is too busy wondering the same thing to notice what you’re hoping they won’t notice. So stick with me for the next two months, if anything just for the morale support. I’ll be reporting on the progress of the experiment, all my little freak outs, and any startling revelations I come across! Plus pictures of my bald glory and updates from behind the scenes of one of the country’s best haunted events!

Appetizer

Sad day my friends. I was going to do a second month review of my P90X
progress, instead I will be postponing my workouts for at least two
weeks. On my recent adventure through California, I some how hurt a
tendon in my left leg. I tried to tough through it for the rest of the
trip and I had planned to add extra cardio to my work outs the week
after to make up for the lost P90X days. Unfortunately this only
exasterbated the problem and with a week of AV work I must be able
bodied for, I do not want to risk hurting myself worse. The only way
it's going to get better will be to keep off my feet in my free time.

Sadface.

I do plan to swim and do what exercises I can (soooo Ab Ripper X and
upper body) to at least keep up and not fall too far off track. But to
push through the pain would break a workout commandment, and possibly
me.

Oh but hey that means more time to blog about the trip!

What a whirlwind! Soon as Andy (the Sancho to my Quixote… only
hotter) and I stepped off the plane, we were whisked away by his
father, a character we will simply know as Mr. H. Once free of the LA
traffic we sped away to Paso Roubles, at the breakneck speed of 60
mph. For an SUV with a trailer hauling 2 Honda Shadows, not too bad.
Also large trucks and trailers, etc, have a seperate speed limit in
California than that of regular cars. Either way, California is a long
state and that is a long drive after a long flight. Needless to say I
was tired and restless. When we arrived at the hotel, the last thing I
wanted to do want travel more. But we only had a week and we were
going to lose a lot to travel time and the boys wanted to ride.

Let me tell you, it was worth it! Be sure to check back soon for the
next installment of the trip, "Day 1: Moro Bay"!

Grace "Scully" Nolan
813.545.8444

Ladies and gentleman!

A great day is upon us! I can now blog from my phone! Oh yes, I have
overcome my biggest obstacle to blogging… getting off the couch. So
no more excuses. I can compose quick pieces throughout the day,
anytime anywhere and upload it as easily as sending a text. Oh the
marvels of modern technology.

This is especially convenient with my upcoming trip to California!
That's right, this Saturday I will be leaving for LAX with my every
reliable sidekick, Andy, where we shall rendezvous with the infamous
Mr. H (Andy's father). The week will consist of motorcycles, gorgeous
California coastline, towering forests, breathtaking desert-scapes,
dining expeditions, and adventure! I don't have an official itinerary
to post for you but I will do my best to post a review of each day.

Only detail still troubling me? How do I work in my P90X?!

Grace "Scully" Nolan
813.545.8444

P90X: Day 17

or Why Tony Horton Is My Only Friend

Remember that great and inspiring post about how I was going to start writing every day, inspired by my own progress in jogging? Yeah, sorry about that. I .....uuuuuuuh... Steve Buscemi trapped me in an internet and bear proof container in Fargo and I only just escaped upon discovering the door was a push, not a pull. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Well, as my Twitter followers may have noticed,  I haven't been jogging. But do not fret, I have not betrayed myself or you. I have been engrossed in the P90X Extreme Home Fitness program. My boyfriend had mentioned it as something he wanted to try to build muscle and shed a few vanity pounds and I said I would do it with him for support. And I tell you, o faithful readers (i.e. Dad, Dawn, and Patrick), it is everything it promises to be. Extreme and at home.

I love it though. I'm completely obsessed, at the risk of alienating myself from my loved ones. I talk about my experience and progress every chance I get. And I have become one of those people who turn down food by explaining "I've already had my carb for the day". Yes... I am a fitness douche. It's gotten to the point that both friends and family have begun to tease me about my "diet" (at 120lbs and a size 4 jeans, people don't what to hear me say "diet"). I'm sure even Andy, my forever patient and even tempered boyfriend, must be sick of my bad workout jokes, referencing the trainers in the videos as if we actually knew them, and constantly spouting the catch phrases from the videos.

 The Before Shot

 The Goal (Dreya Weber)

But for the program to be effective, you have to dedicate and commit yourself. And folks, I am most certainly committable! Read on for more about my progress and how the program works.

Travelingshooz reviews the Opening Ceremonies.

As a live events production tech, the Olympics have a completely different draw for me. While others talk about how fast the lugers are going, I'm talking about the camera's being able to keep up. But as a spectator and a viewing citizen of TVland, I could care less. When we were last invaded by the Olympians, I had missed the opening ceremonies and boy did I miss out. All I heard about for the next few weeks from my colleagues was about the impressive scale and magnitude of the whole event, critiques on the director's choice of using CG for broadcast, syncing issues, etc etc. And I was completely left out of the discussion. Well this year I was determined to not make that mistake again. I sat down at 7pm share with water and snacks, ready to take in the splendor of this "intimate" affair.

A day in the life of AV

Get to work, scam your way into parking for free.
Stand around, talk about work to be done.
Wait to do the work.
Get ready to do the work.
Wait for people to get out of the way of the work to be done.
Do the work.
Stop working to take a lunch break.
Get ready to finish the work.
Finish the work.
Talk about the work, wonder if there's more work to be done.
Go home, eat good food and paint, play music or do yoga to replace the feeling of being completely unfulfilled.

Repeat.

Die.