Day 5: Book I Wish I Could Live In

I had to think about this for a while, but then it came to me, and it seemed so obvious. The book I wish I could live in is The Great Gatsby. Of course. Set in 1922 in the West Egg district of Long Island, who would not want to be part of Jay Gatsby’s extravagant parties?

In fact, in high school AP English, we threw a “Gatsby Party.” Naturally, I moaned and groaned and did not take full advantage of such a wonderful opportunity. I completely missed a legitimate chance for fun in a short skirt, a tad too much makeup, and general disdain for social norms and behaviors. Not to mention, jazz. I love jazz.

So Fitzgerald portrays the era enveloped by decayed social and moral values? But the “American Dream,” in which any person from any social bracket was still alive, and almost possible. Nick explains Fitzgerald’s idea that the American dream was originally about discovery, individualism, and the pursuit of happiness. Then Americans became disillusioned after World War I, resulting in the desire for easy money and relaxed morality. Call me crazy, but I guess nothing has changed.

So if I get to have a disillusioned dream of my own, I would love to be living that dream in a swanky home, close enough to attend Gatsby’s parties, but far enough not to have to become irreversibly situated within the plot of the story, alas I become as cynical as Jordan Baker.

3.13

Soooo, as of last week I thought my blogging “career” was over. I was bummed, but Sunday and yesterday I jogged, and just didn’t have time to write. And I thought that was fine. Then I remembered last week, when I did absolutely nothing, and that is unacceptable.

I remembered why I started to blog.

1-I want to run again. My inspiration for this comes directly from a friend of mine, Caylor, from My Navy Days. (You should hear some sort of patriotic music playing in your head.) If memory serves me correctly, which it very well may not, Caylor was not that in shape, and he smoked. A lot. Like all the time. Light up before and after every PRT, all the time. (Sorry to call you out, Caylor.)  But now, I follow him on Facebook and Endomondo, running half marathon distances for fun. I would say “how unfair,” but he obviously works hard at it, and I can (should) too.

2-I like to write. It is cathartic and fun. It even inspires me, and it might inspire (or at least entertain) someone else. Example: I just about fell out of my seat-thrilled, because another Navy acquaintance started a blog (after seeing mine) to help himself lose weight. But more importantly, he called me a friend….that’s huge, because I was not at all nice to him back in the day (cue the patriotic music). I was young and stupid, there was peer pressure, but of course there is never a good excuse, and I truly regret my insensitivity. Clearly, he has been the better person in this situation.

Anyways, I was thinking about all of this when I was running yesterday. You know, the past, present, and of course wondering what I should try to make of my future. It was a lovely 78 degrees or so, but of course I had no life changing revelations. And around 2.5 miles, I stopped being philosophical, sentimental, etc. and just tried to breath. I managed to make it 3.13 miles, which I have not done in several months.

I did realize that I should just enjoy my surroundings, even if it isn’t the NYC skyline.

And I also know that unless I want to continue listening to The Tokyo Police Club’s remake of Party in the USA, I need to make my own play list ASAP.

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.      Henry David Thoreau

Oh My, Recap?

Wow. So it didn’t take long for me to disregard this new project in my typical fashion, which is sad. I really enjoy writing. Unfortunately, my runs (I HAVE BEEN RUNNING! kind of) have not been that exciting. So here’s a brief recap from last week’s “adventures.”

I skipped way too many days last week. I don’t know why, except that when it came time for me to run, I made the (misguided) decision not to run. On Tuesday, I managed 2.5 miles which consisted of a very long, backward loop between Loop 410 and Vance Jackson. I don’t really know why I think it was backward, because I was running clockwise, although I did start out opposite my usual direction.

On Thursday, I ran only 1.99 miles. I swear it said 2, but whatever.My kilometers-to-miles-math failed me. Sigh.

It was not a good week to run.

To make up for it, I kicked it up a notch on Sunday, going 3.12 miles. I am enjoying Endomondo, because if I were to run my normal 2 mile loop, I would definitely quit after 2 miles.

Instead, Sunday’s run took me past La Fogata, a pretty popular Mexican restaurant here in San Antonio.

The beautiful foliage provided some respite from the heat, and I enjoyed the smell of freshly watered plants. However, the delicious scent of Mexican food wafting from inside was just cruel.

I seriously considered stopping for some enchiladas and margaritas. This is why I don’t carry money with me when I’m running.

So, with Patti Smith on repeat, I ran the remainder of the way home.

Margarita Mix It Up

After three unintentional days off, the Bitchy was starting to come around. So, despite the 90 degree temperature and lack of cloud cover, I set out clockwise around the normal loop.

It was a cool 79 in the house, so initially I felt good. I had Patti Smith on repeat. It didn’t take long past one kilometer for me to start feeling the sun rays. The run became miserable. I could feel my days off. The only thing keeping me going was the thought of the bottle of Jose Cuervo on my counter. Calm down, Dad.  I don’t have a problem. At least not a drinking problem.

Nope. I was thinking about the freshly baked Margarita Cupcakes, waiting to be frosted.

I know “they” -who is they anyway?- say not to reward yourself with food, and this really wasn’t a reward. It was just a matter of fact that in order to eat the cupcakes, I had to get home. And the faster I went, the less time it took. Mind you, I was still pretty slow for the duration of the two miles.

Anyway, I found the recipe for these on Lauren’s blog, and I suggest you bake these or any of the other delicious-looking cupcakes you find there.

The consistency of the frosting was a bit runny for my taste. I contribute that to my poor choice to use light cream cheese and butter, which I already had in the fridge. Oh well, they’re still delish. And I have enough tequila and Margarita mix for a real Margarita. Yes! So much for my run.

Speed Training Tuesday?

Well, now I know for certain why running with Jeff is not usually pleasant. I will get to that in a minute.

After Sunday’s three miles, I was feeling pretty proud of myself. Of course I had to undo any progress I had made on Monday.

My sister stays the night with us on Mondays because she has class early on Tuesdays. She’s already received her BS in Exercise Science, but now she’s expanding her career options through massage therapy school. I’m a fan. She practices on me weekly. She had to practically twist my arm to make me volunteer.

So instead of continuing on a healthy trend, I had a beer and slice of pizza before she practiced a one-hour wellness massage on me. I know-what am I doing?

Of course, the batteries in both of Jeff’s MP3 players were low, so I ran without music. I did bring my phone to track the run with Endomondo. I realize that I use the word run loosely, but jog gets redundant. What I should probably be saying is speed walking, but that is just sad. Anyway, I usually run about a 6:30 kilometer. Trying to keep up with Jeff, who slows his pace for me, I finished the first km in 6:01. Great.

So I slowed down. 1-because I didn’t think I could keep up the pace, and 2-the second km has an incline. It isn’t steep but it goes on for over half a mile. The run consisted of me listening to (and being disgusted by) my own breathing and just putting one foot in front of the other Ever since I nearly died (that may be a slight exaggeration) when we were hiking Mt. Baldy in California, I promised that I would not complain about merely jogging. After all, what’s a few miles in the heat compared to nearly losing my toes to frostbite or falling from a snow-covered ridge? (I was inadequately prepared and dressed, which is mostly my fault, although I like to blame Jeff and the weatherman.)

This is my sister and me on the way down from Mt. Baldy.

I ran the second km in average time, but Jeff kept telling me to keep up. I ran the last km in 5:50, and any thought of going farther vanished at the sight of our home intersection. He thought it was a pretty pathetic run; I will call it my speed-training for the week.

Three Miles and The Tokyo Police Club

It was a sunny 78 degrees yesterday afternoon. I did something I have not done in a loooonng time: I ran because I was bored. Yes, I probably could have found something to do, but I had already steam-cleaned the floors with the Shark, cleaned the dishes, and washed the laundry. I knew I was going to run, so maybe it is more accurate to say that I ran out of anticipation. It was inevitable.

Jeffrey was working again, so I asked him if he would leave me his MP3 Player so that I could have some music while I was jogging. In addition, I decided to take a bottle of water (filled only half way-a full 16 oz is just obnoxious) to quench my thirst. No, it isn’t a necessity. But it helps me -psychologically- to have something to keep my mouth from drying out.

Jeff’s taste in music differs quite a lot from my taste. So instead of rocking out to my usual run music, (read: Rolling Stones for the first part, then Cyndi Lauper, Katy Perry, etc to keep up the pace toward the end), I listened to a seemingly random mix of The Pajama Club, Otis Redding, and a pretty catchy remix of Party in the USA  and Since You’ve Been Gone by The Tokyo Police Club. I normally wouldn’t understand Jeff’s appreciation for a Miley Cyrus or Kelly Clarkson song, but these are kind of catchy tunes and TTPC sounds a lot cooler than Miley Cyrus.

I have a very hard time listening to new music. My sister says I never made it past the 90s. It’s really a miracle that I know who Katy Perry is and actually listen to some of her songs.

Other than that, there’s nothing really to write about. I got to one km fairly quickly, and stopped to pick up a penny. No, I am not above picking spare change from the street.

I made my way around the neighborhood park, across Vance Jackson, then over to West Ave. I forgot that several of the neighborhood streets dead end before reaching West Ave, so I had to jog further down than I had intended to. Damn Endomondo and my independent running. It was hot, and my measly 8 oz was gone when I reached 4.8 km. That’s right. Three miles!

I had to find my way back to a familiar street, which landed me at the neighborhood dive. You should be listening to Party in the USA again, if it’s not already stuck in your head.

I seriously considered going inside to wait out my sun-stroke.

I also considered cutting a block off of my walk home, which was over a half mile, by walking down our alley. I know there aren’t any large dogs down it.

But our block has more shade than my entire jog route, so I opted to stay on track.

After a shower and a couple of hours of rest, I noticed that the lack of shade had taken its toll on my skin. I guess I will have to start putting sunscreen on my shoulders instead of just on my face.

So I put my hands up, playing my song, and the butterflies fly away…Anyone else? No? Okay.

The New Two

Another beautiful, sunny day. After yesterday’s run (minus the fence-hopping dog), I was almost excited about going out today. The low 80s have arrived, and so my running tights have been retired to the bottom drawer.

I headed toward the neighborhood park, keeping to the streets, and away from the alleys and their inhabitants.

Nothing screams “Saturday in San Antonio” like a party at the park with a bouncy castle. I wondered if I could burn enough calories while jumping in the castle to just skip the rest of my run. Hey, it’s cardio, right?

I decided to avoid squashing the children and any lawsuits which would ensue. I was quite happy that the first km had passed so quickly. I was aiming for 4 km, or 2.5 miles, at least. Maybe 4.8 km, or 3 miles. I jogged across Vance Jackson, which I have never done before. I’m not sure why. I love the freedom Endomondo gives me. (Jeff’s at work, so I was running solo today.)

I was jogging up and down streets, enjoying myself. Before I knew it I had run 2.5 km. My phone only alerts me every km. Of course, I check it periodically to make sure I haven’t accidentally hit Pause or Stop.

We have had an unusual amount of rain, so the yards are verdant fields, some with more weeds than others. Irises are in bloom-something that always reminds me that Easter is quickly approaching.

The sun was beating down on me, and I was in a full sweat. I’m dreading the next few months when today’s temperatures will seem chilly in comparison. I continued to weave up and down the blocks, basing my route on the amount of shade and downhill gradient.

After I hit 3 km, the shade seemed to disappear. This is another benefit of running in alleys. There is usually more respite from the sun.

As I was creeping up on 4 km, I was thirsty, and I am pretty sure some of my brain cells were frying. I was also getting bored. I will be very happy to receive my MP3 Player in the mail this week. I need something to distract me from the heat.

When my phone said, “Four Kilometers,” I was happy with myself. Sure, I probably should have pressed on for the remaining .8km, but I really just didn’t want to. I stopped to look at the ditch which I like to call “The San Antonio River,” because it reminds me of the LA River. If you haven’t seen it in person, you’ve seen it in the movies. This just isn’t as wide. Or long.  And there may actually be more water in it right now. That will change soon, though. (There is a San Antonio River, and this isn’t it.  I don’t know where the real one is.)

Lesson Learned?

The universe has aligned itself, finally. Yesterday I had a good run.

As I have off on Fridays, I was able to choose any time during the day as my running time. So around 2 pm, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to take my distance up a notch. A small notch. I put on some clean running clothes and grabbed my phone. Using Endomondo really is the easiest way for me to run farther. If I run my regular loop, I tend to be done once I’ve finished the loop.

I turned right when I reached the corner, and began running up the first alley. I know that you are wondering, Why are you still running through alleys after you have been nearly mauled by alley dogs during at least two runs? It is just so much easier to go up and down alleys and streets. I mean, I can run longer distances without feeling like I have actually gone that far. Maybe I’m crazy.

I was feeling good. After the first kilometer, I noticed my pace was slower than usual. I didn’t mind though, because I was more concerned with running farther.

I turned down another alley. This one was paved.

It was basically a small street, and I stopped to snap a picture of this sweet hound who was hanging around the alley.

So far during my run, I hadn’t seen any scary dogs. Most of the canines I encountered were small terriers and chihuahuas, all behind fences. I was still smiling over the hound when I noticed two big wolves dogs in the yard ahead. I saw that the chain-link gate was not completely closed, but I doubted either dog could get through. Turns out, they didn’t need to. The larger one just hopped right over. “No, no,” I said in an unfortunately whiny voice.

He was barking, jumping up and down, following me. I could feel his hot nose on my left elbow. A speeding train of thoughts pumped through my head. Don’t stop. Dogs smell fear. Get it together. Don’t let him bite you. Unless it’s on your left arm. Don’t be afraid. Maybe he will sense my attitude change. But that might anger him. The left arm is the best place for him to bite. Not the upper arm though. Did I just pee myself?

Then he turned around. I don’t know if he went back to his yard. I did not turn around. I also did not run down anymore alleys. Instead, I had to do some block circling and retracing of steps.

I jogged 2.5 miles. I had initially thought I could maybe do three, but it felt hotter than it actually was, and I miss running with music. I finally ordered another MP3 player yesterday. I can’t take it anymore.

I usually don’t reblog, but this captured my thoughts exactly. I could not have said it better.

Couples Who Run Together…

It was only five months ago that I was jogging along for four easy (ish) miles. Of course, that was in San Bernardino, before the holidays, before we moved back to San Antonio, before I didn’t run for a month, and the list goes on and on.

I love a great run. That doesn’t happen very often. For me to have even a good run, several things must happen. And they must coincide exactly. (Unless I am irritable, upset, or just downright pissed, then I just NEED TO RUN!) But on any given day, first, I must feel good. This means I must not be tired, and I’m always tired. My body must feel good: no sore muscles, no neck or back pain. I must be hydrated. I must not be hungry. The weather needs to be cool, preferably sunny, with no strong winds. And finally, the cosmos must be perfectly aligned. I know that is a lot to ask. It’s a miracle I ever run at all.

Well, yesterday, I was hungry. Which resulted in me being achy. I should have eaten right when I got home, but Jeff and I had planned to run around 5:30. He wasn’t feeling well due to some sort of stomach thing which I won’t get into. We decided to just do the usual loop, since he was weak. I like to run it counter-clockwise to get the hill out of the way early. But he’s a creature of habit, and we were off in the clockwise direction.

He’s lucky. His body was made for running. Long legs, lanky, no boobs. I envy him. As he passed me (not surprising since his stride is at least twice mine) he asked why I wasn’t snapping away at the neighborhood.

The other day he said my blog is ridiculous, and I quote, “The only benefit is that you’ve gone jogging everyday.” Clearly, Jeff has not read my posts, or else he would know that jogging more often IS the point of my blog. Well, that and improving my writing skills. Anyway, mission accomplished thus far.

My calves are still sore from the previous two runs. You would think I ran at least a Half Marathon this weekend, the way I’m whining. Between his sick stomach and me, it was another Worst Run Ever. Yet, he seemed to keep increasing the gap between us.

As I said, the mind is a powerful thing. I convinced myself that because we walked the first block when we normally begin running, I might as well walk in the middle of the jog-it would already be less than the regular 2.2. I made it a few yards, before the sane (or maybe most oxygen-deprived) part of my brain told me to get it into gear. It was a beautiful, sunny 73 degrees out, so onward and upward toward Loop 410.

A few blocks from home we encountered a pack of stray dogs. I am continuously berating the irresponsibility of people for not keeping their dogs safe, for letting them run free without tags. Luckily, these guys were friendly. Hopefully, they are fixed, as well.

Alas, the home stretch. One block. I turn the corner, and at the end of the block I see yet another stray dog. A sweet, adorable tri-colored beagle. Crap. That’s not a stray dog. That’s MY dog. Without her tags on. Because she should be tucked away safely in the backyard. Note to self: remember to secure the gate to the alley, and maybe put her tags on her collar. Just in case.

So I pick her up and walk the last few yards to the house. She won’t follow me. She’s more of the follow-her-nose type. Like Toucan Sam.