Every year around this time, the city of Chicago grants us a most magical gift. I’m not saying that a pretty sweet public transit system isn’t a  gift in  itself (I mean, really, we could be Los Angeles. I watched Speed this weekend. I know how their mass transit works. No thank you), but, from late November through late December one sparkly, beautiful train runs on a lucky line for a few days, granting riders a little Christmas cheer.

Here it comes!

Oh so close!

Seriously you guys, I can’t even begin to describe how freakin’ happy this thing makes me, especially since I’ve opted not to decorate for Christmas this year (I’m lazy. Sue me), I’m getting my holiday cheer in as many ways as I possibly can!

Elves hand out candy canes! I had two

Tinsel garlands everywhere

Interior lights all changes to red and green

North Pole themed advertisements

Heh

Candy cane poles. Please do not lick. Germs.

Holiday upholstery. Squee (she doesn't say squee )!

And that’s just the inside, ya’ll. Once the train came to a stop and I finally got off (I may or may not have ridden it to the end of the line and then back to my actual stop. Okay that’s totally what I did. I love sparkles and Christmas music. SUE  ME!!!), I managed to get a few exterior shots. Enjoy

See, how can anyone not feel all holly-jolly after that? Okay, I’ll admit I didn’t enjoy being packed in like a sardine for 45 minutes or fighting my way around strollers full of screaming children during rush hour (really, strollers during rush hour? But no bicycles? I ask you! WTF?), but it was a great way to end a Friday at work and crossed of one of the many things on my holiday to-do list this year. If you’re in Chicago during the Christmas season, I highly recommend seeking out this gem. You won’t regret it (well, you might regret it. If you’re dead inside.)! Happy Holidays!!!!

Well, I just returned from what was probably the saddest run I’ve had in a long time. I don’t if it was because I lifted weights (for the first time in two and a half weeks) last night, or I was short on fuel, but here’s what happened:

Yeah…that was in an hour. My legs just felt like lead, my usual 1% incline felt like I was trying to trek up a mountain, maintaining 6.3 mph just wasn’t happening, I didn’t have any music, and, oh yeah, this is the reading material that assaulted my mailbox this afternoon:

Two magazines, all three Kardashians. US Weekly, I expect that from you (and I love you for it, you’re a great treadmill read), but c’mon Glamour. FIrst JLO is the Woman of the Year (m’okay) and now this mess is happening? I’m gladly handing this over to my hubby to do his usual chest hair and mustache artwork. I might ask him to leave Khloe alone,  though. I kinda dig her

Anyhoodle, post workout I got to cool down with a little bit of Community (Nick Kroll is guesting tonight. I dig him, too).

Trying to capture my sweet eyebrow sweat. I just look creepy and pained.

After that crappy run I still managed to sprint home like I was being chased (by zombies of course. But you don’t really have to run fast from zombies. But they do have endurance, so those bastards can chase you forever. Unless they get distracted by a squirrel or something. I digress…obviously). Probably because I was dressed like this in 25 degree weather:

Yeah brrrrr.

And with that, I’m off to eat my arm. Or an egg and some toast. Whatever. Good night and peace out.

Chuckles says good night too. Or feed me.

‘Sup ya’ll? Happy Sunday, I guess? I don’t know, Sundays are rough for me. I’ve been cooking and spending way too much on a sweet pair of wine-colored jeans while grooving to Big Sam’s Funky Nation to bust myself out of this end of the weekend funk I’ve fallen into. I guess a big of a crash was inevitable, considering how freaking AWESOME yesterday was. Let me back up.

My Saturday started with a disgustingly early (4:10AM!) alarm and about a third of a Clif bar. After checking the weather (temp 45 degrees, Real Feel 39, winds SSW at 20-25 mph, yikes) and choosing my outfit according, I gathered up my gels, phone, water bottle (I bought an Amphipod water bottle recently because most of the fountains along Lake Michigan have been shut off for the season. WTF? Anyway, the bottle worked great)  and keys and was out the door.

BREAKFAST!!!

My original planned route would have taken me about three miles NW of my apartment before I tunred around and started heading south, and then after I hit 13 miles, I would turn back and head home to shower before I left for my hair appointment later that morning.

Something needed to be done with this business.

Yeah…turns out it’s really dark and scary at that hour of the morning. About five minutes into my run I opted to turn around and just head south on one of the busier roads near my place. Still pretty scary, but there was a steady stream of cars present all morning, so I figured if shizz hit the fan there was a chance I’d be able to get help from somebody.

I didn’t take my camera with me because it was super dark, plus every pocket I had was stuffed with gels, phones, CTA card, etc, but I would have loved to have shot a self-portrait at some point in the first 2.5 hours of the run because I know that wind was blowing my skin back making look like Joan Rivers. Oh my gravy, it was awful. So bad, in fact, that about three miles in I started thinking “This is ridiculous. It’s so early. My legs hurt. This is dangerous. There are rapists and murders (and zombies) still out at this time. I don’t have to work Thursday. I could do this Thursday. Yeah, run 23 miles and then faceplant into a pumpkin pie. Hello, winning.” Ultimately, I did not turn around. I decided I’d soldier on and make this run my bitch.

Unfortunately, with the wind and my leg soreness from the ten-mile run/walk the day before, I was going a little slower than I had hoped I would and would likely not be able to run all 23 miles and make it back home in time to get showered and grab the car to get my hair did. Luckily, my loverly hairdresser, Rori, is super awesome and would probably not judge me too harshly for showing up at the salon a hot, stinky mess. So, onward I pushed, down State Street (that great street), which was pretty awesome since it was essentially deserted but all the holiday lights were up (man I wish I had pictures!) and over to the lakefront path, where I keep getting bitch-slapped by 30 mph gusts until I turned around at about mile 15 to proceed to my ultimate destination.

Once I turned around and had the wind at my back, things started looking up a little, though it was pretty heartbreaking when I hit 18 miles and realized that I still had five more to go. It took a few self-pep talks and a run by the United Center to salute the new Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita statues, but eventually I landed at Rori’s doorstep with these numbers on my Garmin:

Yeah baby!

Yesterday morning I came within about three miles of running a full marathon. All by myself (I did have some help from my favorite podcasters, but that’s another post for another time). It was kind of awesome.

The rest of my day was spent brunching with the Hubster, napping, and shopping. I think mall-walking (and spending money) is the best way to keep the ol’ legs loose after a long run, don’t you? Heh

After all that shopping I came home and made an absolutely amazing late night dinner:

Brown rice toast w/ Biscoff, almond butter, and a New Glarus Stout. Gourmet, I tell ya.

Seriously, this stuff is amazeballs.

So, that was my Saturday. I’m feeling a little long-winded so I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ve got a sweet evening of laundry-folding and finding out why the hell Herschl has a barn full of walkers. BTW, Barn Full of Walkers is totally going to be my band name. I play a killer kazoo, yo.

Oh yeah, this is how the hair turned out. I love it. Good night!

Ridiculous face.

So, I guess I lied. As I said before, my training schedule called for a ten mile walk on Saturday, 23 mile run/walk on Sunday. Here’s the thing: I have a hair appointmtent tomorrow morning. Chances are good it will be dyed. Don’t wanna wash hair for at least 48 hours after dyeing (first I typed dying. I probably wouldn’t care about my hair after dying). A hairwash is pretty much non-negotiable after 23 miles of running. Yes, vanity and vanity alone compelled me to get to get out of my warm bed at before the ass-crack of dawn and tackle my ten miler. Only problem was it was dark, windy, and cold. I guess that’s three problems. Whatever. I wasn’t running outside, brrrr. Plus it’s harder to see the zombies that are after me when it’s that dark.

So, armed with some magazines, a podcast or two, some tunes and some agua, off to the gym I went to pound out my walk.

The entertainment arsenal

I realized about 30 seconds in that I would likely throw myself off the building if I tried to walk the entire time. No amount of Married with Children or E! “News” (I’m just devasted about Ashton and Demi *cough*notsomuch*cough*)was going to keep me that entertained. I ran the first two miles, walked a mile, then alternated mile for mile from there on out.

The end of hour one

o

Hour number two

After two not-so-terrible hours, one issue of Glamour and some trash TV later, I was FINISHED. And I also discovered that my husband had violated my magazine at some point this week.

Yes, JLO has chest hair. Who knew? What did you think when I said violate? Mind outta the gutter, yo.?

I guess this means I’m running 23 miles tomorrow morning. I’m off to carbo-load and maybe cry a little. Wish me luck!

HEY YOU GUYS!!!!

Did you miss me? Who am I kidding? No one reads this, so no one really knew (or cared) that it’s been, like, two months since I posted. Well, my family reads this, so I guess they might have missed me. HI FAMILY!!! I love you for reading (and because you’re awesome)!!!  Exclamation points!!!!!!!!

Anyhoodle, wow, a whole lot of shizz has happened in the last several weeks. I don’t think I could even begin to play catch-up, so here’s a summary in  (mostly) pictures:

I hate the Cubs. Born and raised Cardinal fan. It was an awesome October

Represent

A finger is not big enough to trip elevator door sensors, FYI. You’re welcome. And I need a manicure.

I’ve been to like 8 of these already.

Best National Anthem singer. Ever. Suck it, Roseanne.

Epic Southern IL wine tour. Deserves a full recap. Eventually.

An evening with this guy (that would be Kip Winger). And that other guy I live with. Awesome.

I put on make-up and drank Prosecco. I felt fancy.

X2. I love it so much.

So that pretty much sums up what you’ve missed.

Oh, there’s been this:
A lot of this

And there’s more to come. On the Galloway agenda for the weekend:

Saturday: 10 mile walk
Sunday: 23 mile run/walk

That’s a lot of mileage. Many Swedish fish will be consumed. To be followed by a big ol’ slice of Godiva cheesecake, yeah…

Thanks for coming back! I’ll try not to abandon you for that long ever again.

Oh, and the Goofy Challenge is only 7.5 weeks away. Holy monkeyfarts.

As I said earlier, one of the things I love about the Jeff Galloway training plan for Goofy is that it only requires two runs during the week for a duration of 30-45 minutes. Heck, they don’t even have to be runs, they can be run/walks. Should be easy, right? Well today, not so much.

I spent my entire day talking myself in and out of running after work. Should I just do my usual path by the lake before I go home? Nah, I want to go home, grab the new US Weekly and just get it over with on the treadmill. I only want to do 30 minutes. Maybe I should just skip it and go home reading The Help. This went on for nine hours today.

At quittin’ time I had to make a choice. Lake? Gym? The Help? Bucket of frozen yogurt and a nap?

I already had my gear at work...

Had a few choices for my listening pleasure

I made a bargain with myself. Fifteen minutes out, 15 minutes back.

I altered the deal. It’s true what they say: You never regret a run. Forty-five minutes. Probably about five miles.

I still got the bucket of frozen yogurt

Good Night!!!

Part of the adventure in doing the Goofy Challenge has been figuring out how I was going to train for it. When I signed up  waaaay back in March (like the day registration opened. While I was still injured. I had some high hopes, man), I had absolutely no idea what kind of training plan I would follow. The only plans the good folks at Google could find cost money. Runner’s World’s Smart Coach offered no option for someone would be running a half-marathon and marathon on consecutive days (plus it too cost money. Boy do I sound cheap). I figured I would just make something up eventually, perhaps every other weekend running a short-ish distance on Saturday and then just doubling it on Sunday. Made sense to me.

It was only after my sister decided that she would be joining me in running the marathon and was looking for a training program of her that she found and directed me to the marathon website, where I found that Mr. Galloway had been so kind as to develop a training plan for we Goofy Challengers. Thanks Jeff! I’ll post a link after I figure out how to make a link. Remember, I’m new at this.

Without going into too much detail (since I’m already hella long-winded and this post is going to be excessive anyway), during the week the Galloway plan simply requires a 30-45 minute run on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That’s all! Totally manageable and appealing to someone like me who’s coming off of a foot injury and doesn’t want to end up injured again and on the disabled list. That would not be good, especially after a $335 (gulp) entrance fee.

So, seeing that yesterday was Tuesday, I had a small window of time between work and class, so I went for a lovely, albeit windy, jog along Chicago’s lakefront.

Gorgeous Day!

The first 20 minutes out I was going headlong into the wind. Not gonna lie, it was rough and I kind of sandbagged it.

This city be WINDY!

After I turned around, the wind was at my back and I decided to put the pedal to the metal.

I was racing that guy in the orange. He just didn't know it.

Haha, I win!

I finished up my run, took a quick sink-shower at the office, and headed to class. While waiting for class to start I had an awesome dinner of a Clif bar and the world’s saddest peach.

And with that, I am off to watch the season premiere of America’s Next Top Model while my husband judges me from afar. Good night!

So, if  you have read my first post, you know that I, like a straight-up cah-RAZY person, am in the process of training for the Disney World Goofy Challenge. What you may not know is that the DW Marathon and I have a history. A hot, sweaty, disgusting history…

In March 2006, I received some very disappointing news regarding a career change I was hoping to make. Since my original plan for the rest of that year was going to have to change, I decided my new goal would be to run a marathon. It was an easy choice which one I would do. Disney, duh. I love Disney World, so what could possibly be more fun than running 26.2 miles through my favorite theme park? Turns out, lots of things. I’ve never had a root canal, but I have a feeling that just might be a little less painful than my first marathon.

For four months, I trained hard(ish), read tons of articles for first-time marathoners on RunnersWorld.com, and acquired a decent collection of dolphin shorts. I was ready!

My buddy Eileen and me, gearing up for the start

I’m guessing we lined up sometime around 5:30, and after a half hour that passed way too quickly, some fireworks were set off, and we runners set off ourselves. I was running a marathon, wheeeee!!!

Us at Mile 1. Still smiling.f

The first few miles passed so quickly and we had settled into a really comfortable pace. I have no idea what that pace was. I had no Garmin then and no concept of what it meant to actually race. I just wanted to keep a pace that I thought I could sustain the entire race. I though I was doing well, but Mother Nature decided to screw with me.

Mile 4. And that's not rain. It was that f*#%ing humid.

I will say that the first 10 miles absolutely flew by. In fact, it was  so foggy from all of the humidity that I couldn’t see any of the miles markers, and didn’t even notice that we were approaching the Magic Kingdom until I was pretty much on top of Space Mountain. I only vaguely remember running through the castle, but I’m sure it was super cool. I’ll be sure to enjoy it more this time around, though.

I believe it was sometime around mile 14 that I saw my family for the last time on the course.

Here I come...

...and there I go.

I believe the picture above was the last time I smiled during that entire race, because around mile 15 I hit THE WALL. Hard. It was totally my fault, I hadn’t been fueling myself properly. At every water table, I took water. Not Powerade. Water. I had a bag of Sport Beans on me that I didn’t eat until I was past 13.1 miles. And did I mention Mother Nature? Yeah, she decided that it was going to be 90 freaking degrees that day. Hello, it was January! I had been training in a nice, dry Chicago winter. My poor body was not responding well to these extreme conditions. Ugh.

The rest of the race was a total blur, I have to be honest. I have no idea what my paced dropped to, but I walked well over half of those last 11 miles. I was so disappointed. Here I was thinking that I had a shot at keeping 10 minute miles, coming in around 4:30, and instead I had a complete breakdown and finished in 5:19 and swore I would never run another marathon again. Not because I was disappointed with my finish, but because running a marathon is HARD!

We done. I was really done.

Well, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, the 2007 Disney Marathon was not the end of my marathoning career. This winter I decided I wanted a rematch with the DW course, but decided this time I would go big. Really big. Perhaps foolishly big, but hey, I’ve always been a bit of a fool anyway. Heh