You're Not Pinning This One On Me

I cleaned out my Running Command Center last week in preparation for a household renovation project. I drilled through layers of old training schedules, promotional race materials, Gu packets, race bibs, and random odds and ends which had accumulated for years on the surface you see in the picture. At the end, when everything else had been cleared away, this is what was left:

The detritus of a dozen races

Pins. Pins, a racing runner's best friend and bane of his or her existence. Pins on the floor of the car. Pins in pockets. Pins rattling around in the dryer. Pins between the couch cushions. Pins in extremely weird places (I'll leave that one to your imagination).

The small cat-themed container is also packed full of pins. That's my portable pin bin. I take it with me to all major races.

Pins. Gotta love 'em.

After last week's Arctic Blast^TM, this week has seen a considerable improvement in the weather situation. Temperatures vaulted into the forties and fifties, most of the snow melted, and the sun made occasional appearances. However, I have lived in the Midwest for too long to be fooled by this flirtation with still-distant spring. I know that a few days hence there will be fresh snow on the ground and 50-plus degrees will be a fading memory. I took advantage of the favorable yet fleeting conditions by going for three afternoon runs, reveling in the lightness of limbs less encumbered by layers of fabric.

The weekend will bring a return to more typical weather for this time of year, including the dreaded "wintry mix" on Sunday. We're not out of the woods yet, fellow Michiganders. Hang in there.

Collection

You know you are a runner who perhaps has a few too many running clothes when...

...you're moving your clothing stash from one place to another, which entails emptying out various drawers, thereby requiring refolding and rearranging of said clothing so it will all fit into its new home, and you find yourself saying one or more of the following:

"I wondered where that went."

"I totally forgot about this!"

"Ah, the first proper jacket I ever bought."

"Oh yeah...this one."

Additionally, you may revisit triumphs of deep discount sales (hello, Asics Storm Shelter jacket that I got for 50% off), milestone race shirts (Detroit Marathon '08), and questionable purchases (not every piece of gear is awesome).

I am happy to report that all of my stuff is neatly tucked into drawers, and I rotated some neglected items to the tops of piles so I will see them first and therefore be more likely to wear them. 

In other news:

I ran when I got home from work, because the morning temperatures of late have been alarmingly cold. Dangerously cold. Like, wind chills below zero. Having frozen my hands on a subzero run two years ago, I hesitate whenever the ambient temperature dips below ten degrees. Thus, I balked at going out this morning (9 degrees) and pushed my run back to the afternoon when it was a pleasant 25 degrees. I decided around mile 2 to go longer than planned in order to run through the cemetery and take a picture of the sunset, but no sooner had I made that choice than my guts sent out a warning signal of impending doom (seriously, it was like five seconds later) and I knew I would have to go home along my originally scheduled route. The cemetery and the setting sun will have to wait.

Thursday Thoughts: You Know You're A (insert name of cold region here) Runner When...

You know you're a Michigan runner when 15 degrees and four inches of snow don't bother you.

This morning I actually got up and went for a run before work, which has not happened since before the Thunder Road debacle. It was about 15 degrees outside, so I dressed appropriately (thick Sugoi tights, Jacket of Wonder, gloves, earband). I knew I was going short and slow. Longer miles (and hopefully my erstwhile speed) will come in time. My goal for the rest of the month is to ease back into the routine of getting up to run multiple times during the week.

I have to admit, it was pleasant. Lovely, even. The cold temperature was bothersome for only a brief time; the new snow skritch skritch skritch-ed under my shoes. There was no one else around. A few lazy snowflakes spun down in the yellow glow of the streetlights.

I was forced to prematurely abort my run 0.04 short of 2 miles because I had to make a frantic dash for the bathroom at home. I was trying so hard not to let something unpleasant happen my toes were clenched into little toe-fists inside my shoes.

Speaking of shoes, I have pushed my current pair to the brink of 700 miles. They have endured two marathons with me, a distinguished career, and I believe it is time for them to retire with full honors. This means I will have to shoe-shop for the first time in ages, since I have been cruising with an unbroken string of Brooks Adrenaline 9s for over two years (I am on my fourth pair of the 9s). My last pair of 9s I ordered online almost a year ago. I highly doubt there are any unused pairs of a two-year-old model drifting around. This means I must...change shoes. I could take the easy way out and just make the leap to the current model of the Adrenaline, since my feet get along so well with them. Or at least they do until I wear them well past their retirement age, in which case unfortunate things occur such as nasty blisters which lead to bacterial infections and the falling off of toenails. Yes, while the paronychia has cleared up, my poor beleaguered little toenail, battered and insulted, went into its death throes a couple of weeks ago. I helped it commit assisted suicide.

My family is coming to visit for the weekend, which means running with Dad, a trip to IKEA, a fancy dinner, and the enjoyment of my favorite malty beverage. I was with the Engineer down in Indiana on Monday, and took the opportunity to pick up some brews from Three Floyds Brewing for my dad and I to sample.

Now it is time for me to pick up the lovely Redhead for lunch...stay warm out there, folks! (unless you're from somewhere in the South and claim anything under 40 degrees is "too cold." And you think I'm "nuts" for enjoying running in cold weather.)

Name Recognition

You know you're a runner when:

You see the name "Bill Rodgers" listed as a dissertation committee member and you think, "Hey! How cool that he has the same name as the running legend!"

In other news, I have paronychia. That is what has been plaguing my wee little piggy toe since Thunder Road. My brother took about two seconds to diagnose me when I thrust my bare foot at him on Christmas. A visit to the doctor earlier this week confirmed it. I am taking antibiotics and have inserted a foam wedge between my little toe and the one next to it (is it considered one's "ring toe"?) to allow it to have room to breathe, so to speak. I escaped the lance because I took a needle to it myself about two weeks ago, which opened it enough to allow fluid drainage, but it wasn't healing because it was pressed against its neighbor. Hence the wedge.

When I got up this morning and made my trip to the bathroom, I realized as I was sitting on the throne that I had walked down the hall without limping and without holding my right foot in the awkward, curled-toes-side-of-foot configuration I was forced to adopt in order to keep my little piggy toe from touching the ground. Holy shit, it's actually getting better! I can see the light at the end of the bacteria-infected tunnel.

Last week I went for my first run since the marathon: the third annual Christmas Day 5K. It's not a race, it's just me running in my parents' neighborhood. My toe hurt like hell but I managed the 3.1 miles in just over 31 minutes. Other than that, I have been wallowing in sloth and gluttony and have no plans to cease either until the new year has started.

Have a Happy New Year, everyone!

Ouch

You know you ran a marathon recently when you have to use a handicapped stall every time you go to the bathroom. Those safety bars are the only thing standing between me and an embarrassing toilet-related incident.

Yes...And?

Yesterday evening: bundled up and out on the sidewalks of Jackson Rd with my Thursday Night Gang (yes, I know yesterday was Tuesday, but we ran then because of the holiday tomorrow).

Temperature: hovering around 18 degrees. Calm. Jacket of Wonder doing its job. Feeling good. We ran east to Fellow Gang Member Larry's workplace, one of the auto dealerships near Wagner Rd. A local radio station was on site and was giving away vouchers to local businesses. The eight of us entered en masse, breathless and red-cheeked after two miles. We presented an incongruous sight standing in the showroom. As I removed my gloves, one of the salesmen approached me and my Fellow Gang Member Lorenda and said in that voice (the same voice in which that guy asked me if I'd been running "the whole time") I've come to know so well:

"Um...you do know it's only like 20 degrees outside, right?"

See: Title of this post.

Plans

You know you're a runner when someone asks you what you're doing this weekend and the first thing you say is, "Well, I have to run 18 miles on Saturday morning..." and then you completely draw a blank on anything else.

Actually, that's not exactly true; this is my "Weekend Indie Rock Doubleheader of Awesomeness," in which I not only have Grizzly Bear in Ann Arbor tomorrow night, but tonight I am attending a sold-out show of the one, the only, the incomparable, the wonderful Sufjan Stevens. Thanks to the miracle of Craigslist, I scored a ticket to this show only a couple of days ago. To say I am excited WOULD BE THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE DECADE.

Best wishes to Viper in his quest to break the four-hour barrier at the Akron Marathon tomorrow!

Thursday Thoughts: 300

No, this is not about an overly oiled Gerard Butler in a loincloth¹ (as much as I wish it was). This is my three hundredth post for my humble little blog. Shocking, I know.

You know you're a runner when...your phone (in this case, the wondrous iPhone) has Gu residue on it from being stuffed into a waist pack for a long run. Or anything else which one might cram into a pack on a long run. Sticky Gu smears (or the fuel supplement of your choice) are just part of being a runner, I guess.

Also: YKYARW...

You pull something out of your jacket pocket and safety pins sprinkle the ground like fairy dust.

Bonus running dork points if said jacket is a jacket from a marathon you ran.

Double bonus running dork points if you're wearing said marathon souvenir jacket as part of your work ensemble for the day...and you work in an office building.

I think I win for the day. And yes, I fully acknowledge this was a contest only I was playing, and yes, I am a complete running dork. I think y'all knew that already.

I have "new shoes syndrome," that unavoidable malady all runners experience a few times a year. I recently acquired my third pair of Brooks Adrenaline 9s (and yes, once again they are men's size 10 shoes, please hold the big feet comments) and have begun to break them in. These are the shoes which I will wear in the NYC Marathon. Right now they are, to put it lightly, blindingly white. I feel incredibly self-conscious. I need to get these babies dirtied up, stat. Of course this is what happened the last time I had brand-new shoes...I'm not anxious to repeat the sudden-death overtime dirtying experience, but I believe 16 miles of Dexter country roads with my training group Saturday morning should lightly dust them with a respectable sheen of dirt.

Tonight's RF501 group workout: 6.68 miles of HILLS. Whew. Yes, we have a few hills in Michigan. We use one of them for our hill workouts. It may be seen here. That's me at the bottom in the orange shirt.

Registration fee for the 2010 Boston Marathon: $130 (applied to card only when qualifying time has been verified).

Registering for the freaking BOSTON MARATHON: PRICELESS.

1: Confidential to Mr. E: Remember the Beastmaster drinking game where one of the cues to drink was "excessive oil"? Yeah, I know you do...don't deny it. :) See also "hawk vision" and "unnecessary swordplay." And the catchall "things that make no sense," which was pretty much the entire movie...

Also: GQH, somehow Lansing survived the great Angry Librarian Invasion of 2009. No cars were overturned, no mobs of rampaging librarians set fire to couches in the middle of the street. The madness is over...FOR NOW...

Of Dirty Laundry and Dilaudid

You know you're a runner when:

• You transfer some laundry from the washing machine to the dryer, and there are safety pins scattered about the bottom of the empty washer drum. Similarly, you open the door to your dryer, and a handful of safety pins falls out. I have the cleanest safety pins in the world.

• You are lying supine on a gurney in a hospital ER, moaning and shaking and panting uncontrollably as the worst pain you've ever felt rips through your abdomen over and over and over, and the only thing you can think of is "I wonder if I can still go for my long run tomorrow?" Of course, once the sweet, sweet nectar that is Dilaudid hits your brain like a ten-ton truck, you won't be thinking about much of anything. (I yelled, "Now I know why people get addicted to drugs!" before I floated quietly away on a heavenly cloud of narcotic painkiller.)
  

Yes, I spent part of the weekend in the hospital. It meant that my Friday evening and all of Saturday were completely shot. I didn't have appendicitis nor did I have a kidney stone. I had a ruptured ovarian cyst. Guys, be glad this can never happen to you. It was dreadful, excruciating. I was sternly forbidden from running for at least two days. TWO WHOLE DAYS? I'm training here! (I should add another "you know you're a runner when": "everyone in the ER knows you're a distance runner within 20 minutes of being admitted because you're incapable of talking about anything else, espcially when you're actively training for a marathon.") It was difficult, but I managed. I managed by going to the beach on Sunday with a book and lying in the sun for a few hours reading about Bella and Edward and Jacob (if you have to ask...well, just don't). A little swimming, a little sunning...I let the memory of the drama of the previous 36 hours drift away and I returned home happily sunbaked. Monday morning I was back on the road. Yes, I'm fine. No, I didn't have to have surgery. For now....

Stupid female bits. *grumble*

Pin Up Girl

You know you're a runner when you have a pile of race bib safety pins on your desk at work.

You also know you're a runner when you have race bib pins everywhere.

12 days to Cleveland. Taper tantrums in full swing. Stay back.

Priorities, People!

You know you're a runner when someone (runner or not) asks you what you're doing this weekend and the first thing you say is "Well, on Saturday, I have to run 6 miles, and on Sunday I have to run 12..."

I have no idea what you're talking about...(shifty eyes)

Seen at Zoomylicious; from Running Times.

What are the possible side effects of RUNNING?

RUNNING may produce side effects in some patients. In clinical studies, the most common side effects with RUNNING included: obsession with shoes; obsession with numbers; waste of brain power on arcane statistics; insensitivity to clothes that smell like ammonia; searing hamstring pain while driving; black toenails; purple toenails; no toenails; prepubescent biceps; loss of lateral movement; severe reduction in vertical leap; crow’s feet; smelly feet; antisociability; confusion about what constitutes an acceptable toilet; feelings of superiority toward people who don’t take RUNNING; confusion about how much others want to hear about RUNNING; potentially embarrassing public displays of appetite; inability to recognize that RUNNING on television is boring; misperception about how much flesh should be shown in public; excessive time spent reading RUNNING message boards; and extreme fatigue when spouse wants help around the house.

Too close to home:

• obsession with numbers (both running-related and otherwise)
  
• waste of brain power on arcane statistics
• black toenails
• confusion about what constitutes an acceptable toilet
• feelings of superiority toward people who don’t take RUNNING
• confusion about how much others want to hear about RUNNING
• inability to recognize that RUNNING on television is boring

In other news, today is Fat Tuesday and have I ever taken advantage. Someone brought in a metric buttload of pazcki and I have eaten three (two raspberry and one Boston cream).

Truthfully, I feel kind of sick.

Nike Fit Dry: Not Just for Special Occasions!

You know you're a runner when your running wardrobe starts bleeding into your "regular" wardrobe, to wit:

Today I am wearing one of my beloved Nike Fit Dry base layer shirts under a scratchy wool sweater. I needed something long-sleeved, close-fitting, and not too heavy since it is, after all, a wool sweater. The Fit Dry shirt was perfect in every way.

Next thing you know I'll be wearing Smartwool socks with my Dansko clogs.

I don't think my workplace is ready for the stealth bomber outfit, however.

Day After Thursday Thoughts

What a week, people. What a week.

• My standard operating system is up and running. Debugging complete. Virus eradicated.
  
• You know you're a hardcore winter runner when you think heading out when it's 29 degrees is "warm" and "pleasant." Whatever it is, it's better than last Friday's minus-10.
  
• Not only was Tuesday a Very Great Day for America (even if I had to miss the live and in person version), it was also the day Animal Collective's new album, Merriweather Post Pavilion, hit the streets, and I can finally post a link to a LEGAL audio stream/mp3 of what I think IS ONE OF THE MOST AWESOME SONGS I HAVE EVER HEARD: "My Girls." Confession: I snagged a totally illegal mp3 of this back in early December when it leaked on the Internet and immediately put it on practically infinite repeat. iTunes says I've listened to it 34 times, and that's 34 complete times, not counting the times when I jumped back to the start before the song had finished because I couldn't wait for it to begin again. That also doesn't count the times I've heard it on my iPod, because this is truly a fantastic song for running. Well, my running anyway. Standard disclaimer: noisy samples and synthesizers aren't for everyone.
• Tomorrow is a double helping of my other two passions in life: opera and food. First, I am going to see another Met Live in HD broadcast (Orfeo ed Euridice with the stupendous Stephanie Blythe) and then shortly afterward the Michigan Lady Food Bloggers are descending on my house for a very much anticipated "Summer in January" foodie event where we are going to try and recapture some of summer's warmth and cheer. I'm making strawberry shortcake.
  
• The ol' running schedule suffered somewhat this week, but I still managed 5 miles on Sunday and 3 miles last night. Even though today is Rest Day, I am debating taking advantage of the warm temperature (33 degrees in Ann Arbor as of last reckoning) and going out for my 5 mile run after work tonight instead of tomorrow morning, when it will be much colder. And speaking of cold, the low Saturday night is supposed to be minus 5! Sunday's 12-miler is going to be a chilly one...

I've seen this one going around teh Interwebs lately: the "Five Addictions" meme. I thought I'd be a sheep and jump on that bandwagon, too. Or if I'm going to be a sheep, wouldnt' that mean I join the flock? Onward...

1. Running. Duh.

2. My down comforter. I bought this king-sized, silk-clad waft of luxury for an incredibly low price (I think it was 80% off or something: originally over $1000 and I got it for $200) at a clearance sale at The Company Store Outlet in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, shortly before I moved to Michigan for graduate school. It has been my faithful companion in sleep for the past ten years. It has kept me warm and snug in the coldest of barely-heated lakeside cottage Michigan winters (and barely-heated 1920-era bungalows in small Michigan cities).

3. My town. Can I be addicted to a place? I have lived here in my house for almost 7 years, which is second only to the 8 years I spent in the same house in Los Altos, California. I love my town. I can leave my house on foot and in 30 minutes I can buy stamps, milk, cowboy boots, a refrigerator, dog food, a haircut, knick knacks (not always useful, but they have their place), a shot of espresso, a bag full of used paperbacks, drop off some dry cleaning, visit the library, and grab a sandwich for lunch on my way home. It's such a useful town. Additionally, after so long in one place, I'm a regular at several establishments around town (and no, they're not all bars), and as such

4. Ben and Jerry's Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. Hands down, my favorite ice cream flavor of all time. I used to eat it by the pint in college. I still eat it, but only in half-pint increments.

5. Reading. I learned to read when I was about three years old and I've never stopped. I read for a living. I read every night before I go to bed. If I don't I literally can't sleep. My bedtime reading ritual is ingrained into my very soul at this point. I am always reading at least one book at once. When I worked as a temp at Borders Books (the world HQ here in Ann Arbor, not one of the retail stores) I had the key to the mythical Book Room, where surplus and unwanted advance and complimentary copies sent to the buyers ended up. I treated the Book Room like my personal bookstore. In two months I accumulated about 250 new books. It was a bookworm's dream come true. As long as my eyes continue to function I will always read.

Toasting our new President Tuesday evening. This is how I spent Inauguration Day: in a recliner, wrapped in a blanket, with a cat. It wasn't what I had hoped for, but it was enough. Just watching it on TV made me all verklempt.

Bathroom Babble and More

You know you're a runner when you encounter a co-worker/fellow runner in the bathroom and end up having a ten-minute conversation about upcoming races, training plans, paces, group runs, gear, the weather, etc...I can only imagine what the unfortunate person trapped in the bathroom with us was thinking: "Who are these crazy people?"

In other news, I am über-excited because this evening before my regular group run I am going to (carefully) break out some of the megabucks in gift certificate money (monies?) I received for my recent birthday. YakTrax are at the top of my list. After that...THE SKY IS THE LIMIT!

And finally, I am extremely jealous of fellow runner TK who is in Ireland, a place near and dear to my heart (I lived there for 5 weeks for my geology field camp experience). Not only am I jealous because she is in beautiful, verdant Ireland and I am not, but she will be able to run in Ireland while I am stuck on the same crappy snow-covered Michigan sidewalks I've been pounding for the past 2 years (in various states of snow-coveredness; right now, they are covered with a couple inches of fresh snow). I lamented some time ago about missing out on running in various exotic places because at the time of my visits I was not a runner. (Shocking!) One of the two places I regret not running in the most is western Ireland (the other being my beloved valley in Wyoming). Oh, some day I will return. As Arnold said, "I'll be bock."

My Garmy and Me...

You know you're a runner when...you charge your Garmin Forerunner at work.

Garmy is right here next to me, nestled among the pens, Kleenex, lip balm, pads of paper, and stapler, charging up for my group run this evening.

My Garmy, my Garmy, my Garmy and me!

Font of All Useless Knowledge

Scene: the gym, about 6:30 am this morning. I am rifling through the piles of magazines for some reading material for my elliptical session. I find the latest issue of Us Magazine (OMG Jessica Alba's post-baby diet! style tips from Lauren Conrad!) and then unearth the holy grail of gym magazines: Runner's World! I pull it out and then look quizzically at the cover. "London Marathon! Khalid Khannouch breaks his world record and sets new world record of 2:05:38!"

Wait a minute...I think. Exactly how OLD is this magazine? Haile Gebrselassie just set the world record of 2:03:59 in Berlin at the end of September and he broke the world record he set in Berlin last year!

I flip rapidly through the interior of the magazine and discover it's from July 2002. (Why a six-year-old magazine is at my gym, I have no idea.) This magazine is so old Deena Kastor is still shown as Deena Drossin!

Then I think, Oh my god...I have achieved a new level of dorkdom. Not only did I instantly know this magazine had to be hopelessly out of date because of the obsolete marathon world record on the cover, I knew the name of the current record holder, his world record time, and the race at which he ran it.

I am not sure whether to be proud of or kind of scared of the fact that I know these things.

Edited to add: ALL RIGHT I CONFESS, I LOVE CELEBRITY GOSSIP. OKAY? I'm sorry to burst y'all's bubble, but I am NOT the intellectual and cultural snob you think I am. I read Us Magazine (and OK! and In Touch when I find them) at the gym and every single day I visit my favorite celeb gossip Web site: The Superficial. I have to stay abreast of all celebrity news.

Least Creative Costume Ever

You know you're a runner when...

...you dress up as one for Halloween. Or would that be you dress up as yourself?

My shirt and headband say it all, I think.

Last night John and I went to a Halloween party at a local brewpub. I wanted to fully participate in the spirit of the evening; however, lacking in both creativity and advance planning skills, I decided to dress up as the runner me. A pair of tights, "Obsessed Runner" shirt, a bunch of old race bibs, and my marathon jacket later, I was all set.

Enjoying some Espresso Love. My eyes are closed because it's that good.

Don't mind John. He just got out of prison. (Grand theft auto, if you must know. Prisoner number 8675309.)

With my Brasserie Blonde. Or maybe it was the Sacred Cow IPA at this point...I don't really know...

Me and my fellow beer-a-holic friend Patti (dressed up as Britney Spears) who can also be seen here.

And no, I did not bounce out of bed this morning and go for a long run like I had intended. Why do you ask?

You Know You're A Runner When...

• You carry around a sample package of a sports drink powder in your bag or purse
• You have a crumpled race T-shirt riding shotgun in your car
• You dream about running, to wit:
  

I had yet another marathon dream. This one involved me running the first ten miles of the marathon by myself somewhere else and then attempting to join the field at mile 10. Once again I was wearing my green first-timers bib, but this time I had not picked up my race packet and therefore did not have a timing chip on my shoe (I know, I was wearing my bib, but it was a dream, it's not supposed to be 100% logical). When I realized that I was not going to receive a time for my effort, I became very upset. There was crying and yelling. I said, "But what about Boston?"

Indeed, what about Boston. What about everything. I have a sick creeping feeling that the flaring pain in my fibula is not going to go away and I will be running on it as it is come Sunday. I am on the verge of downgrading my expectations to "just finish." It hurt like hell for the duration of my 12-miler yesterday, though it hurt less when I ran faster. I decided to pretend that the last 2 miles of the run were the last 2 miles of the marathon. How much did I have left; how badly did I want it? I ran miles 11 and 12 in 8:04 and 7:57 respectively. Of course once I finished, I was in agony and limping very badly as I walked home. Icing the traitorous area seemed to help but I am really anxious. Very anxious, very nervous, very upset. There is only one week left before the race. Why did this-- whatever it is, and I don't even want to think about "the S.F. word"-- have to happen NOW?

I shall see how it feels when I do my easy 4-miler tomorrow morning. Please please please please PLEASE let it be nothing skeletal.

I hope to soon read some race reports, from my fellow run-bloggers who participated in marathons this weekend.

Tuesday Thoughts

Because I have all these things banging around in my head, clamoring to get out...

• Is it weird that I find the sentence "The most direct experimental signature of a compactified extra dimension would be the appearance of an infinite tower of Kaluza-Klein particles" really exciting?
  
• Note to organizers of the Run for the Rolls: I hereby request you change the name of the event to "The Bun Run." (big kudos to the sister of my RF501 teammate Kara for this one.)
  
• My co-worker keeps a jar of candy for everyone to enjoy. Recently little boxes of Milk Duds have been added to the mix. I am in so much trouble. (MDs are my favorite candy Of All Time.)
  
• You know you're a runner when you keep a copy of your training schedule in your cubicle for easy reference during the day.
• You also know you're a runner when you have this stuff on/near your nightstand (read photo notes).
• Well wishes and good vibes are in order for my fellow run-blogger and Michigander Nitmos.
• John made his first batch of homebrewed beer over the weekend. In two weeks (approximately) we will have our very own beer!
• Listening to Phedippidations today I heard this: "If you have an opportunity--not a perfect opportunity--and you don't take it you may never have another chance." I took this as a sign I am meant to follow through with my crazy plan to attempt to BQ in the Detroit Marathon.
• My new Song Obsession of the Moment: Okkervil River's "Lost Coastlines."
• Today is FINALLY going to be a good day at Weight Watchers weigh-in. I weighed myself yesterday and was pleased. I have also noticed I've acquired a strange angular and sinewy appearance. I think the fat is being vacuumed off my frame. My collarbones and sternum are protruding more than ever. Now, if only I can lay off the Milk Duds...
  
• My ankle does not hurt. My ankle does not hurt. My ankle does not hurt. (do you think if I say it enough times that will make it true?)
• How about that amazing comeback and massive upset win pulled off by my beloved Michigan Wolverines against Wisconsin on Saturday! Go Blue!!