Guesswork be Gone
Friday, January 26, 2007
2006 was a year of life-changing experiences.
There was turning 30 (which I've heard is the new 20).
Then there was gmail, with its snazzy searches and incredibly convenient g-chat feature (Seriously, people, I didn't believe it either at first. But it's that good.)
And finally, there was Map My Run (also a direct result of the genius of Google. Coincidence? I think not!)
For any runner or cyclist, this is, perhaps, one of the greatest inventions of all time. Right up there with the dry-wick gear, bodyglide, and the ipod.
Gone are the days of driving a route in your car and mentally guesstimating the approximate mileage lost or gained by things like cutting through parks. Gone is the guilt and (if you're anything like me) the subsequent tacking on of extra blocks at the end, to make up for that guessing (because, heaven forbid you should run 2.93 miles instead of 3). Gone are the boring days of running only a few calculated routes, or the difficulties of running or biking while out of town.
You can store all of your routes right online and there's a handy little calculator in which you enter age, height, weight, and total time for the route; in return, it spits out your average pace and how many calories you burned.
It's brilliant. Pure and simple brilliance. And, for the Type-A runner, a little bit like crack.
Try it and see. I dare you. You'll be hooked in no time.
Posted by Erin 1:11 PM 0 comments
For those of you new to this blog thing...
I've heard from quite a few people that they wanted to post a comment on here, but couldn't figure out how. So, here's a primer:
- For the particular post (blog entry) that you'd like to comment on, click on the "comments" portion (ex: Posted by Erin 11:19 AM 0 comments Links to this post) at the bottom of each post.
- In the box under "leave your comment," type what you'd like to say.
- Under "Chose an Identity" click on the "Other" button (unless you have undergone the life- changing experience of gmail) and enter your name.
- Press "Publish Your Comment" and, voila! (or as a certain Wisconsin political blogger who will not be named would say, "Wahlah!"). Mission accomplished. Well done, you!
Posted by Erin 12:47 PM 0 comments
What Comes Around...
Friday, January 05, 2007
I could have had a free bike.
Coulda, woulda, shoulda.
Here's the story: I walk into the Trek store in October, pick out a bike and all of the fixings that go with it...which, if you've ever decided suddenly one day to "take up" biking, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Water bottles, water bottle cages, aerobars, spare tires, tire-changing tools, an under-the-seat pack to hold the spare tire and tire-changing tools, a tire pump, bike trainer, shoes, a fitting. I could go on for close to forever. But, you get the picture. Lots o' stuff.
In any case, I open up a Trek card (great deal - no finance charges for 12 months), promise to make good on all the goods by signing my name on the dotted line, and the store clerk realizes there was a shoe fitting or pair of shorts or something that didn't get rung up. So, she runs the card again, and I sign, again. Then, I go home happy.
About a month down the road, I get a statement from Trek. For $36. So I pay it. And, assuming the big whopper of a statement is not far behind, I pay an extra few hundred dollars toward the bike et al.
Two months come and go, and I get a letter from Trek indicating that I overpaid by several hundred dollars and they'd like to refund my money. I just have to call a specified 1-800 number.
After explaining the reason for my overpayment, the customer service representative tells me she sees no record of me having bought a bike and I should contact the store to see if they do.
I hang up the phone and realize I have two options: 1. call the store, alert them to their (rather large) mistake, and pay for my bike the old fashioned way, or 2. pretend the whole Trek-instigated letter/conversation never happened and go about my training a little bit richer.
Now, I'd like to say that I immediately jumped to #1, but I didn't. I don't know if that makes me a morally-marginal member of society, or just plain human. But we're talking a LOT of money here folks. Money that I wouldn't necessarily have to pay if I didn't pick up the phone and alert the Trek store to a mistake that they didn't even know they had made.
At the very least, it was tempting not to. I thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it. I weighed my options. Over and over again.
In the end, one picture keeps resurfacing: me on a dishonestly-come-by bike, on a miserably hot (or, given this year's weather, cold and drizzly) day in September, struggling up and down hills and struggling just to keep my legs moving after 6+ hours on a bike, with the phrase "most difficult Ironman bike course in the world" (not sure where I heard it, but after seeing the Wisconsin course, there's not a doubt in my mind that it's true) narrating the scene.
The Ironman is a 2.4 mile swim and 112 mile bike, with a marathon tacked on to the end for good measure. It's one hell of a hard race. And, I figured, why make it even harder?
So, I picked up the phone. Because from what I've heard, Karma's a bitch. And I'd really rather not have her tagging along on September 9th.
Posted by Erin 11:19 AM 0 comments
3:25!
Monday, December 11, 2006
That's the time my friend, Patrick Manion, finished the Dallas White Rock Marathon in yesterday. I'm not sure what his previous best was, but I do know that back when I was talking about doing that race with him, we were both aiming for around a four-hour finish. The unofficial results list his time at 3:27, and that's with a detour to the 1/2 marathon finish line. Either way, it's an ridiculously incredible accomplishment (and only 15 minutes off of a qualifying time for Boston...).
Way to go, Patrick! I'm thoroughly impressed, and so happy for you!
Now, get your ass on that bike. I'll see you in Madison on September 9th.
Posted by Erin 2:17 PM 1 comments
Get Your Ass on That Bike
That's what I had to tell myself last night when about the last thing I wanted to do in the whole world was workout.
Surprisingly enough, it worked.
Often, I can get myself out for a run at almost any time, in almost any weather because I really, truly love to run. It's therapeutic and relaxing and energizing. But I've been having serious problems with motivating myself to workout lately for three main reasons: One, I've been really busy lately and, as a result, really tired. Two, I'm having to swim and bike more and more, which I like doing far less than running (see above). And three, I'm having to dedicate increasingly larger chunks of time to working out, which -- when combined with work, extra-curricular meetings, and horse and dog that need exercise -- gets overwhelming at times.
I have little tricks that I use to get myself out for a run -- telling myself I only have to run two miles (I almost always end up going longer), putting on my running clothes to take the wonder dog for a walk...just in case I want to do some hill sprints or intervals (half-way through the gear-up process, I almost always end up gearing myself up mentally to run as well), downloading new music onto my ipod that I won't let myself listen to until I'm out running, or treating myself to a new anything (hat, gloves, shoes, flavor of GU) that I want to try out. These tricks work almost without fail.
I'm still in search of good tricks for talking myself into a pool or bike workout, and I'm open to suggestions.
Until then, I'm just going to have to keep talking sternly to myself.
Posted by Erin 8:48 AM 0 comments
What I Learned in November
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Ok, so November was a wash, blog-wise. It was a busy, busy month bookended by election night and Thanksgiving and peppered with work zaniness. But I'm back, and am making a promise -- if to no one else but me -- to never take an entire month off of posting again. To that end, I'm kicking off my new streak of blogging by listing the top ten things I learned this past month. In do particular order, they are:
- Election nights are like Christmas, prom, and graduation all rolled into one.
- Eating (a second) Thanksgiving dinner (in two days) and then running eight miles is an evil, evil thing to do to your body and a really bad idea in general.
- An afternoon of massage and relaxation can actually wear you out.
- An alternative meaning for "tea bags."
- The Hubbard Avenue Diner is well worth the hype.
- Contrary to St. Norbert lore, your skin will not melt off if you fall into the Fox River. In fact, nothing bad will happen...as long as you don't eat the fish.
- There is a definite technique and strategy to thumb wrestling.
- Sometimes, Denny's at 3 a.m. is not only a brilliant plan, but totally necessary.
- I am the only person on earth who hadn't seen a James Bond movie before Casino Royale.
- Someone else has my exact same stubby thumbs.
Now it's your turn. Ready, set, go...
Posted by Erin 10:41 AM 0 comments
What's in a Scar?
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
I am sitting almost cross-legged on my couch. The comfy gaucho pants that have become a nighttime staple for me throughout summer have fallen above my knees.
For some reason, the sight startles me.
I have, what are quite possibly, the most unsightly set of knees of someone of my age. Or, of someone of any age, for that matter.
But these knees and I have a special relationship. As unattractive as they might be, I’ve never shied away from them. Never did I refuse to wear a skirt or shorts or a dress – even to prom. Never have I apologized for their appearance.
Usually I don’t give them a passing glance. But just as when a word that you’ve used your whole life suddenly looks foreign on the page, the knees suddenly looked that way to me.
Perhaps it’s because, tonight, the summer tan that usually helps to mask them has long since faded, and the many scars – a finger’s width and length each – that surround these knees stand out even whiter now against my skin. Perhaps it’s because I’ve seen them less and less with the onslaught of recent cold weather. Or, perhaps, it’s because I’m going to be expecting a whole lot of them in the coming year.
As I trace the unsightly scars with my fingers, I think about the two surgeries I had on one – a scope to remove cartilage and then a reconstruction of my ACL and MCL – and the three on the other – a scope, a reconstruction, and then another surgery to remove a screw, designed to keep “new” ACL in place, that in a move of independence, wanted out.
I think about how, after blowing out my first knee, I ran disjointedly around one of the top floors of the Embassy Suites in Green Bay before my first appointment with the surgeon, trying – irrationally – to convince myself that if it didn’t hurt all that much, then I wasn’t injured that badly. I think about waking up from surgery each time, my leg in a mechanical cradle that bent it up and down to encourage range of motion – the pain of which made me alternately sick to my stomach and whish that they’d just taken the whole thing off altogether. About the torturous early morning and afternoon sessions of physical therapy that seemed to last an eternity. About others questioning if I’d ever ski race or run or do any number of things again.
And about how it was something I never seemed to question. I always believed, even in the most painful of times, that these knees would work again. I was diligent in my physical therapy until my knees became useful again, at which point I purposely treated them poorly. I didn’t take Advil when they ached and didn’t ice them nearly as much as I should have. I stopped wearing my braces far sooner than was recommended. I tried not to go out too soft for their sake during dryland training or in those first few ski races back.
And they rebelled. They screamed at me, day in and day out. But eventually the screaming became more of a whimper, until lately, when it has died out all together.
This year, I trained for a marathon, all the while expecting them to quit on me. But they easily carried me through five months of training, and then the marathon itself. They were dependable and they were strong.
It wasn’t until then that I had enough confidence in them to commit myself to an Ironman. But they seem to be on board now. And in return, I’ve made a promise to them – to gain a greater appreciation of swimming and biking so as to help deliver them from the pounding of frequent runs as we grow older, together.
Singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen wrote that “Children show scars like medals…a scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.” These scarred knees are my medals – a record of where I’ve been and who I am. They are mine, and I am glad for it.
Posted by Erin 1:39 PM 0 comments