tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Cracked Nuts

Lessee�. I did indeed run the 5k race. The organizers (The Arthritis Foundation) were lucky and managed to get the only hour of the day with no precipitation. It was also warm enough to have melted the sleety snow from the night before so the course was fairly ice-free. I finished in 30:50 � not great, but there were a few very petite hills (really just one long, low hill and a couple of bridges over the Chicago River) and I�m used to completely flat terrain. Question - what is it with the post-race pizza? It made an appearance at this race too, but this time I managed to have the backbone to just walk on by the intoxicating aroma. Instead I had a dry sesame bagel and a cup of coffee. There were also huge platters of cubed cheese because Cabot Cheese was a race sponsor. I don�t know about you but post-race I think the LAST thing I�d reach for would be a hunk o� cheese. Blech � and this is coming from someone who loves cheese and considers it to be an important food group ALL BY ITSELF. Anyway, the next race that I could possibly do is the Rudolph Ramble, but it�s an 8k. How hard is it to go from a 5k to an 8k? Will it kill me? Because no-one can do it with me and I don�t really want to die alone on a race course getting trampled by festive runners wearing Santa hats, elf ears or strap-on antlers. Heh, I typed strap-on. Heh.

I had a complete meltdown this weekend the likes of which I have not had in, oh, truthfully months, but I don�t think I�ve had a �public� meltdown in a good long time. I showed up for Nutcracker/Belly Dance rehearsal expecting to do a few second act run-throughs where we would practice our Arabian veil number in between the Spanish dancers and the Russian dancers like normal, but Nooo-oooooo. The dance school leader, who must fancy herself an erstwhile Martha Graham or some shit like that, decided to � with two weeks to the performance - spring a second act closing number on all of us where we would be expected to execute ballet moves like (warning! massive butchering of the French language ahead!) chasseurs (chassais?), pad a burres, and other shit like that along with triple turns that require the ability to spot. Um, no thanks. That is not what I signed up for. So I �quit� and stalked out to the lobby (Spike is familiar with my stalking skillz � they are fearsome) and I got all weepy and emotional because I wanted to do OUR dance but not this ballet-thing because I (we) were never going to learn it in two weeks and it was going to look like crap and I�d look like an idiot. Luckily I got calmed down by the nice friend of our instructor and Allison and in the end it looks I voiced the concerns of all of us and we�re going to lobby so that we can hopefully do similar moves to the ballet people but with less ballet and more belly so we look like we�re a part of the whole group but there will be no danger of us stumbling and taking out a row of five-year-old angels. Phew.

Food Log:
Dinner last night�was totally disgusting. For some reason I thought it might be a good idea to buy two packages of sticky rice with chicken, shrimp, noodles, and Vietnamese sausage for Steve and I to eat for dinner. Oh, and some sort of pork creation that Steve said looked and tasted like Spam (when I saw what it looked like after cutting into it I refused to eat it � Steve is more daring). It was all pretty gross, and please, no cute comments about the lack of stray cats in the neighborhood by the Vietnamese place.
Breakfast: Kashi bar, lo-fat fruit/yogurt smoothie.
Snack: no-sugar apple/berry sauce.
Lunch: Kashi Lemon Rosemary Chicken w/ multi-grain pilaf, sugar snap peas, and a few paltry sliced mushrooms, small banana. Very �eh�.
Exercise: Boot Camp � they tried to kill us today � I am not meant to run up and down stairs repeatedly and then have to do a �wall-sit� during the breaks � I almost tripped on a stair and caused major dental damage.

1 comments so far

2:50 p.m. - 2007-12-03

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