Posted tagged ‘random’

Where’s Pea?

March 9, 2010

Oh good Lord in Heaven… almost two weeks have flown by without a peep from the Pea.  Let’s see if I can get you guys caught up real quick:

  • Spent the weekend with my family in Orlando celebrating Mama’s 60th birthday.  The venture included a trip to Cafe Tu Tu Tango, outlet shopping, and a day at Universal Studios.  Mama’s favorite ride:  Shrek.  Oh man, does she love Shrek.  My favorite:  The Mummy.   A rollercoaster!  In the dark!  With fire!  Dude.
  • Commented on 88 papers in 4 days.  That is 22 papers per day (just in case you didn’t pass 3rd grade math, you know, with the division).  Did I have time to do anything else? Glad you asked.
  • Ran on campus last Thursday, a first for me even though I have worked at USF for 6 years.  Unbeknownst to me, there are hills on campus.  I think I climbed every one of them in the hour that I ran.
  • Discovered that, after a long run, I sometimes feel woozy.  Almost passed out in the girls bathroom in Cooper Hall.  That bathroom is scarier than the thought of passing out.  Trust me.
  • Saturday Monkito and I hit the Gasparilla Art Show, the Buddha Lounge for lunch, and Joffrey’s coffee in Ybor (for a HUGE slice of chocolate cake).  Lovely time had by all.  Then off to Paci’s Pizza for a slice  (Monkito swears it is just like NY pizza… what do I know?  I have never even been to NY) and to our Saturday night AA meeting in South Tampa.  Yes, we go to dinner and a meeting almost every Saturday night.  It is a date.  Shut it.
  • Sunday morning = church!  Then a quick 5k, lunch with Monkito, a jog (with Monkito!) at Lake Park, and some volleying of the tennis ball at another neighborhood park.  Yes, Monkito went for a jog.  She did great!  We did a mile (with exercise stops along the trail, which we did too) and then walked another mile to complete the loop.  And playing tennis (and I use that in the absolute loosest sense of the words) was a blast.  Turns out I can keep the ball on the court the majority of the time.  Who knew?
  • Monday I drove down to Fort Desoto to run.  Beautiful view.  Ran for an hour and a half (a new record for me).  Haven’t calibrated my Nike band yet, but I am guessing I covered 8 mile or so.  Could see the ocean most of the time from the paved trail.  The temperature was about 70.  Gorgeous.
  • And finally, today I was very, very brave as I had two cavities filled.  And, all day long, the Crest Gel commercial from the 80s has been in my head.  Cavity Creeps attacking!  Crest Gel! Crest Gel!  (I need to get out more)

And, just think, we are only on Day 2 of Spring Break!  The adventure continues…

Love & Compassion

February 24, 2010

Perhaps, if we shrug off all the pretenses, we can begin to see each other as human beings first and foremost.  Within all of us, there exists a desire to truly be seen, heard and valued.  As I plow through each day, running about and getting stuff done, I try to remember that my fellow human beings deserve my love and compassion… just as much as I deserve to be loved.  Slowing down can be difficult; but truly connecting with someone reminds me why my time on this earth is valuable… and that sure has nothing to do with how much stuff I can accomplish in a given day.

Why I Suck at Sick

February 15, 2010

I used to be a phenomenal sick person.  Seriously.  I could be completely content to lay around, do nothing and not feel a shred of guilt or a twinge of desire to be productive.

Alas, that person exists no more.

I started to feel bad last Wednesday night.  I conceded to taking a nap on Thursday afternoon, but I felt strange about it.  Lazy, perhaps.  Struggled a bit in classes on Friday, but managed to impart my knowledge upon them and grade some papers Friday afternoon.  Success!

Saturday morning found me well enough for a 6.6 mile run (my longest yet!).  But, afterward, I couldn’t quite shake this foggy feeling.  I felt groggy, like when I first wake up from a nap… ALL DAY.  Odd.  (Of course, it never occurred to me that I was still a bit sick and may have pushed my body too hard).

Sunday, I woke up at 6:30 am for the Flatwoods 4.  Look, I had already signed up for this race.  True, I didn’t feel in top form… but I spent the $25  registration fee, so there was no talking me out of going.  (Not that Monkito even tried.  She understands my various levels of insanity, and she knew that she should just let this one go).  I slammed down a cup of coffee and headed out the door… right into 32 degree weather.  Damn.

I am woefully unprepared to run in truly cold weather.  I live in FLORIDA.  The temperature here typically runs from mild to hotter than hell.  But, Sunday morning caught me standing at Flatwoods in sweatpants and one of those stinky, long-sleeve wicking numbers… in freezing temperatures.  Shit.

The first mile of the race found me frantically searching my brain for reasons to just pull over, call it a day and head home.  The cold weather caused me to suck in a lot of air when I started running (remember, unprepared to run in freezing temperatures), so my breathing was off.  I suck at setting my pace (and I don’t yet have a device to assist me with that), so I probably started out too quickly.  My nose ran so much that I finally stopped wiping away snot.  I jumped over limbs, dodged mud, skirted root systems…  and was surprised to suddenly realize (around mile 2) that I was almost having fun out there.

Entire sections of the road were underwater.  I almost lost my shoe in the mud.  But I finished.  And I did pretty well (for me).  Four miles of trail in 42:38.  Elated.  I always am, after a race (well, all three races I have run, anyway).

But, surprising only to me, this outdoor adventure marked the return of my cold, in full force.  I sneezed and fended off snot all day yesterday.  This morning I woke up feeling like an anvil was on my head.  Monkito and I conferenced quickly (and quietly) in bed and decided (after her reminding me repeatedly that everyone gets sick sometimes) that I should…. cancel classes.  ACK!

After sleeping for 12 hours and trying to do this thing called “resting” all day, I believe I am finally on the mend.  I feel so good that I might try to sneak in a run tomorrow, while Monkito is working.  Sh.  It will be our secret.

*sniff*

February 11, 2010

I started feeling sniffly last night.  And my tonsils feel like they are contemplating mutiny.  This falls into the category of VERY BAD NEWS, since I wanted to do another long run today (my long run on Monday didn’t go exactly as I wanted–and I am nothing if not neurotic.  I wanted a do-over).

So, since sickness seemed to be descending, I slept in a bit this morning.  After my oatmeal and coffee, I drug myself to school for a meeting, alternating between feeling hyper-energetic and feverish and achy.  When I got to school and tried to park on campus, the parking machine declined my card… so Monkito had to come get me and drop me off at the English Dept (oh, and the parking machine that declined my card charged my account anyway.  BASTARDS!).

Now I am trying to keep my chin up; really, I am.  But the combination of swollen tonsils, achy back and Parking Fiasco 2010 has left me a bit frazzled.  Then, I walk into my office…. and I see an entire plate of cupcakes baked especially for me by my friend JD.  Vanilla cake with chocolate icing.  And SPRINKLES!

Friends make things suck a lot less.  Just sayin’.  Oh, and cupcakes don’t hurt, either.

Runaway

February 3, 2010

I totally freaked out yesterday.  In my head, I was packing my belongings into my (very sensible) Civic, grabbing my (aging) boxer and heading out.  To where?  Don’t know.  Doesn’t really matter.  Just away from here.

One of the gifts of being sober (read: being able to think rationally on a consistent basis) is that I realize that, while these feelings are real, they are not reality.  I don’t really want to leave.  And, in the above scenario, I would have forgotten Monkito & Milo and would have had to turn around to come back and get them anyway.

This urge to run away directly relates to losing Blat.  I couldn’t control that loss. I saw it happening, and I couldn’t stop it.  I can’t control when (or if) I get pregnant again.  I am facing the typical (for me) concern over finding employment for the summer.  I want to move, but that goal seems to become ever more elusive each time I think I have it pinned down.

My life feels out of control.  I desperately want something look forward to.  I want something to go my way.

Runners Are Strange

January 26, 2010

One of the perks of living in Florida is 68 degree weather in January.  Of course, one of the downsides is the batshit politics, but we will ignore that for now…

Today I took advantage of the gorgeous weather and ran a 5K (3.2 miles).  My running habit should convince you that a) I am only marginally sane and b) that I enjoy pain more than the average person.  I am not a gifted runner.  I do not breeze through a 5K effortlessly.  But I am determined.  Hella determined.

I quit running during our last bout of trying to get pregnant.  I had run throughout the two week wait during all the previous attempts but felt as though I should try one cycle sans running… you know, just to see if it made a difference.  And, lo and behold, I got knocked up.  I walked the same 5K route during my 7 week rendezvous with pregnancy.  But walking just isn’t the same.  And one of the first things I thought after I found out for certain that I had miscarried was… holy shit this sucks.  But after that, it was… I can go for a run!

This enthusiasm clearly marks my teetering on the brink of sanity because I don’t really LIKE running.  Or I thought I didn’t.  I have always liked the post-run afterglow.  And feeling accomplished and strong, in a way that only running can instill.  But looking forward to running?  Not usually.

But, sure as hell, as soon as I deemed it physically possible, I tied on my shoes and headed out on my regular route.  The first run was intoxicating.  I had been experiencing wicked cramps from the misoprostol, and running made them disappear (at least WHILE I was running.  They came back with a vengance later).  I immediately was hooked.  In fact, I loved running so much that I totally would have married it (if that wouldn’t be super-strange, and if I wasn’t married to Monkito…).

I spent the past week working back up to a 5K.  I mixed walking and running, trying to ease back in without hurting myself.  Moderation has never been my strong point.  And today, today people… I ran the entire route.

And as finished up my sprint toward my imaginary finish line, I muttered, “F*ck, yeah” under my breath… just like I have countless times before.  It feels good run again.  It feels even better to know that, although the past few weeks have been shitty, I am going to be okay.  F*ck, yeah.

Simpler

January 25, 2010

I want to live in a yurt.  With a few goats to take care of the landscaping.  Somewhere off the beaten path, reachable by an old pickup truck.  Just a few miles from town.  While I am there, I will write.  And learn to garden.  Each Saturday, my booth at the local market will sell salsa, hot sauce and pepper jellies.  The pups will lay by my feet, wagging their tails in greeting at all the folks that stop by and chat.  Monkito can spend her time scouting out a place for a coffee shop in town, somewhere big enough that I can bake the vegan treats to serve the customers but small enough to always feel cozy.  Sleep by 10, up by 5.  Sounds perfect to me.