Sometimes, Melissa runs her legs. Sometimes, she runs her mouth.

Tag: craziness (Page 3 of 3)

My big fat geek half marathon.

For reasons that to this day I don’t fully comprehend, I have always been a person that other people underestimate. For example, my guidance counselor recommended that instead of taking AP English and Calculus that I take a two period class called Office Lab that taught you how to use all the secretarial machines. I ended up being the one who made the perfect score on the Calculus semester test. There was the time this girl told me that my boyfriend was “TOO FINE” to be dating “someone like me.” (How she managed to live with all her hair perfectly placed on her head, I’ll never know). When I had my first meeting with my piano teacher in DC, I bought a piece I could play to show him my level of proficiency. He told me that this was a “very difficult piece.” Yeah I played it. He was impressed. UH HUH. That’s what I thought.

I’m thinking maybe I should get “that’s what I thought” tattooed on my butt.

Sometimes, I have found that I underestimate myself. I’m a perfectionist and see my flaws and weaknesses a lot more than I see my strengths. As a result, I like to do something that scares me a little to remind me that I’m alive and capable.

I began running in DC. DC has some beautiful running routes. There is the National Mall, which has a gravel trail where you can run from the Capital to the Lincoln Memorial and back again. The sidewalks are wide enough that you can run across the Memorial Bridge into Arlington National Cemetery. Rock Creek Park has a bike and running trail.

Sometime relatively soon after I started running, I thought about completing a marathon. It sounded so over the top that I just had to do it. I had a friend doing the Aids Marathon training program and through that I learned about the Galloway Method

So I put the marathon on my bucket list. I then broke it down to the smaller goals with a 5K, 10K, and a half marathon on my list as well.

Life happened. I moved. I gained a ton of weight. One day woke up and realized, HOLY SHIT I”M FAT! I’m really really fat! and started back to running . . very very slowly. So far I’ve lost about 20 pounds.

Last Saturday was my half marathon: The Little Rock Marathon in, where else, Little Rock, Arkansas. I printed out the training schedule on the site and went to town.

As any longtime reader of “run melissa run” knows, I have been panicking about this race for a good two weeks. I’ve never run a race with this many people. I had visions of being trampled by other runners. I’d never run a race this long. Would the hills kill me? Will I lose my timing chip? lots of concerns.

They turned out to be unfounded. I took pictures. Here we go.

packet pick up

This is where I picked up my “packet” with my number, timing clip, and all the necessary items needed for the race. The expo was nice. I met some of the nicest people while I was there. Runners, as a group, tend to be really nice people. Maybe it’s true what they say about endorphins and mood. I saw lots of nice things and ended up doing a little shopping.

Cool shirts at the expo.

I did not buy either one of these t-shirts.

Goodies

I bought The Stick, which is billed as a “self massager” (no not that kind of massager). IT was worth its weight in gold. I got some gloves, a ponytail headband, a bumper sticker, a magnet, and some jelly beans.

I did my carbo loading at Dam Good Pies. This is an awesome restaurant with great food. I highly recommend it.

Best shirt ever.

I almost wore this shirt to the race, thinking it would be hilarious and might give the spectators a little chuckle. Then I remembered that my pants were black. Oops.

The race itself. Well 6 a.m. is really freaking early. My mother wanted to go with me and since I’m not a morning person, I was more than happy to have someone else with me to wake my sleepy head up for the race.

I started the race with my intent to do 2 minute running/1 minute walk break splits for the duration and I kept this up easy breezy until somewhere between mile 9 and 10.

Around mile 7. (when mothers with cameras attack)

This picture is around mile seven. Our hotel was on the race route and my mother waited and came outside and took this picture. Obviously, I’m not what you would call pleased with my mother playing Paparazzi.

Somewhere around mile 9 and 10, I got real tired. This route was significantly more hilly than the training area in my town. In fact, Little Rock is a lot more hilly than Melissa land in general. The hills had gotten to me. I began walking up the hill in front of the Governor’s Mansion. After that, I pretty much walked the rest of the route. My goal was just to finish. I didn’t care if I was last.

I finally got to the last turn. I got some lipstick at the lipstick aid station and crossed the finish line about 3 1/2 hours later. One person cut off my timing tag. Another person put my finisher’s medal around my neck.

My finisher's medal

(my finisher’s medal)

And none other than Mr. TMFW himself put the mylar blanket around me to keep me warm. By this point, I was so tired I wanted him to tuck me in bed with some warm milk and read me a bedtime story.

The post race atmosphere is a little odd. People are tired and yet supportive. I ate a slice of pizza, some chocolate milk, and a banana. I found my mother. I called my Dad.

“Hey Dad”
“So how did it go?”
“It went alright”
“Did you finish all 13 miles”
“yeah”
“REALLY!”

Uh huh that’s what I thought.

Bragging rights.

I learned a lot during that race. I learned that I need to find more hills for training purposes. I learned that in running, like life, the two biggest things are to show up and to keep going when times are tough. Everything else is gravy.

,

My wild crazy weekend

Last weekend, I had to make a business trip to Fort Smith to tend to some rather stressful business. Since I’ve never been to that part of the state and have tons of friends who live there, I thought I would make it a “big fun weekend” Okay to be fair, the stressful business was originally scheduled for Tuesday but God intervened with the big block of ice.

Anyway, away I go to Fort Smith on Friday. I don’t put enough money in the meter and get a parking ticket. SCORE!

Meanwhile, I’m trying to get coordinated with friends via facebook from Kinko’s because I’ve never been to Fort Smith and don’t know any free wifi places.

I am supposed to meet up with Jennybee later that day. I’ve known Jennybee since high school, which was . . . TWO YEARS AGO! Yes. two years ago. Anyway, a lot has happened in those two years. We’ve dated some losers. Got married, divorced, moved to other states, moved back to Arkansas and a whole host of other things. Hey those were some busy years.

Well I was typing at Kinko’s and pop. There she is. I say “Hi Jennybee” and go back typing.

Yes I’m a dork like that. Then I got up and got all excited and we hugged and acted like 12 year old girls.

One of the fascinating things about seeing someone from your past is that you are instantly reminded of the person you used to be. You see how you’ve changed and how you haven’t.

I got the tour of the house and looked at the shelves and shelves of books and movies. I met the dog and the cat. Both were absolutely adorable. Of course, they loved me. The animals always love me. I emit a scent called “she who gives treats”

We ended up eating at Papa’s Pizza. (YUM!) and I finally met her husband Ben. Ben is a writer. He loves words. In fact, when I told him that Dork was a real word meaning Whale penis, he asked me if it was slang. (well looking it up, I find vulgar slang for “penis” Although someone who is not me at yahoo answers put that it meant whale penis as well. hrmm.) He is also perfect for my friend. Oh and he’s a beer aficionado.

There was eating and chatting. Then we went to their house and more chatting until I just popped out vegging in front of the TV.

The next day was scanning old pictures. More chatting and then they had to work and I had to go.

It was off to the Postsecret exhibit. There was still ice on the ground in Bentonville which was odd since I didn’t get ice at all. The roads were ice free

As I was driving to Bentonville, I got a call from Renee who was sick and would not be eating dinner with me. boo.

For some reason I didn’t take any pictures of the exhibit. I don’t remember a sign up saying that I couldn’t. It seemed a little intrusive to take pictures of these secrets even though they had already been posted up on the internet. They were still fascinating little bits of humanity hanging on a wall. It’s amazing how the adage that “the most personal is the most universal” seems to be true. There were secrets of fear, loss, shame, infidelity, and unmentioned crimes. No matter how odd and out of sync with the world you feel, you can find yourself somewhere in those postcards.

After that, it was a trip to SEPHORA. I love Sephora. It’s a store that sells nothing but beauty products. Yeah I know that I do not necessarily look like a person who would be all giggly over a beauty products store but I am. Sephora has testers of each and every product they sell. Oh the smelling and the testing. I had way too much fun testing lip gloss, tinted moisturizers, blush . . . you name it. I ended up getting the famous Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion (the tinted style). Bellesouth did a review of that stuff and apparently, it does make your eyeshadow last all day.

After that I ended up making attempts to get in touch with Peter which failed and I ended up eating dinner at Doe’s Eat Place in Fayetteville alone. It didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would since I had so many plans to see so many people. The ice storm threw people for a loop and other people, like Ms. Bellesouth, already had plans for the weekend penciled in weeks in advance.

So it was a good trip. It was nice to know that some of the friends you make will last. Also, I’m stronger and more adventurous than I thought. I do eventually get over it, no matter what “it” is. I was pleased to learn that my Garmin does work and is quick to becoming the most prized possession in my car.

cuteness squared.

last words

Don’t you just hate it when you are put in a situation that frustrates you and then ten minutes later, you think of the perfect response? Or you want to be tactful and so you don’t exactly tell the truth. Or you’re just chickenshit and don’t express your true feelings. Yeah I have those moments too. Here are some of those thoughts.

  • You, me, everybody and their mama knows that you don’t give a crap about this community. You only care about yourself. That letter you wrote didn’t fool anybody.
  • You’re a bigot that puts the ass in assbackwards. I am ashamed to be related to you
  • You’re smart, funny, cute, and have a treasure trove of varied interests. I am truly surprised you don’t realize how fucking awesome you are. I want to kiss you smack dab on the mouth and stay up til the wee hours of the morning talking about bullshit. Your bullshit is more entertaining than John Stewart.
  • I’m sorry I’m not a petty, vindictive good old boy. Oh wait, I’m not.
  • Maybe it’s been years since you’ve been in a relationship because you’re too self centered to notice anyone else or their needs. I’m just saying.
  • You are my hero. I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me but I’m a loser like this.
  • We’re not friends because I think you take me for granted and I hate the person I become when interacting with you. I feel you don’t respect my boundaries and that I have to constantly keep my guard up or you will suck me dry. That’s no way to live. I do remember you fondly and you will always have a small part of my heart.
  • YES WE DID. CHANGE DID COME! I am so impressed by you. Have a great inauguration! (oops this one is easy to figure out). BUT shame on you for not liking “girly dogs” Breezy is a girly dog but she is awesome AND hypoallergenic. Breezy the white bichon frise would be the perfect white house dog.
  • Woah you really let yourself go. Get off your ass and lose some poundage. damn.
  • Okay that little know it all kiss the teacher’s ass while stabbing your colleagues in the back bullshit you got going on is old.
  • When I heard that you married a wealthy doctor who is ten years your senior, I thought to myself, “yeah he always wanted to be a kept man.” I feel very sad that our relationship has deteriorated to the point that this is the first thought I think.
  • Look I don’t care who you are, the ten items or less means ten ITEMS or less not ten BAGS OF ITEMS or less. Shame on you, you fucking bitch. And shame on your ms. cashier for not calling her on it. Oh and the part where you act like I’m in the wrong for saying something, well you’re lucky I didn’t send a letter to corporate with your name on it.
  • Alright, your power is going out. I waited until it got especially cold to tell Detroit that your account is with a fake identity. Sucks to be you, you big criminal. At least jail will be warmer than your no power place.

2008 sucked but not completely

Yeah this year was bad. The economy went to the toilet. People are losing their houses and their jobs. It’s chaos. Some fool managed to steal my identity and I am having fun with creditors. Also, I no longer have a job I hated. This is a good and bad thing. The bad thing is that my income went down—way down.

Here are some recaps.

Poop on the sidewalk in front of my office: BAD

A very special Christmas present

George W. Bush getting a shoe thrown at his head: GOOD. REAL GOOD

Sarah Palin’s interview with Katie Couric: BAD BAD BAD

Tina Fey’s mocking of Sarah Palin’s interview with Katie Couric: GREAT!

Team Fabulous racing for the Cure.

Team Fabulous 2008

GOOD

Tripping over Breezy’s Christmas present and breaking it.

uh oh.

BAD!

Michael Phelps winning a gazillion gold medals. GOOD

Chinese gymnast age controversy. BAD

Usain Bolt = Good/bad

Heath Ledger’s performance as the Joker in The Dark Knight. GOOD

Heath Ledger dying. BAD. Very very bad.

Going to Erica’s Halloween party. GOOD (even GREAT)
Everyone and their Mama (including my own MAMA) forgetting my birthday. BAD… real bad. (okay I got some props from facebook but seriously no freaking phone calls or acknowledgement in the non-internet realm. That is sucking y’all.

Canvassing for Obama: good

Canvassing map

Poll watching/voter protecting for Obama: even better.

Voting Rights team represent.

Obama winning: fan-freaking awesome.

More hugging for an Obama win.

Racists going crazy after Obama wins. (thanks for putting the ass in assbackwards guys) BAD BAD BAD

Sarah Silverman fucking Matt Damon. Bad for Jimmy Kimmel Great for US!

Jimmy Kimmel’s revenge. EVEN BETTER!

OH

I love running and today was a very nice seven mile run. It was the same pace I usually run but it didn’t feel tiring. Also, I ran up and down some hills so it should have been more strenuous and slower than my other runs. Somehow I did it and I feel very proud of myself. Yes I am a dork.

I paid the registration fee for the Little Rock half marathon. I have talked and written about it for quite a while but I finally took the leap and paid it. Now I have to go. Well I don’t have to do anything but the fee is non refundable. I have told everybody and their mother. People have even said they would show up to cheer me on. Really? Cheer little old me?! I’m not worthy. Of course, I have a self esteem problem. Or not.

A couple of days ago, a friend of mine wrote about something that was very tragic and painful. I feel empathy for her and her struggle. Unfortunately for me, it is freakishly close to one of my own “very bad events in my life.” As a result, I’ve been a hot mess. I’ve been binging on food like it’s going out of style. I’ve made a very bad trip down to the swampy ugly pothole filled parts of memory lane and I am desperately searching back to Present-ville.

I’m looking towards the future and making plans to change a whole lot about my life. I have managed to put myself in a rut. I need to get out of it.

Food, family, and gifts

When I was a child, the tradition was to spend Thanksgiving with my father’s parents at the family farm. It was a potluck style Thanksgiving dinner (served at lunch time) due to the fact that my father is one of six kids. Of course, one of Dad’s sisters had five kids of her own. The meal had at least twenty people. The farm was completely rustic with a wood stove,
stove;
a well since there was no running water thewell; and an outhouse the OUTHOUSE. It was decorated in this rustic farm house style that decorators try to mimic. kitchen.

Then my Mamaw died and my Pappaw got Altzheimer’s and the tradition died along with her. Years of sibling rivalry and unspoken grudges came to light during the settling of my Pappaw’s “estate” and the tradition is definitely dead since the likelihood for people to sit in the same room isn’t happening anymore. Maybe later but not now. So our small nuclear family has our own Thanksgiving dinner and invites my Mother’s mother and we have a grand old time.

This year my grandma had a cold and stayed home. We still had a grand old time. My brother invited the evil one (let’s just say she and I don’t get along) which caused some bad feelings but I took a nap and woke up refreshed and happy. Also, I was pleasantly relieved that the evil one had eaten and left already. This wasn’t intentional but some surprisingly good fortune. I am surprised that no one in the family woke me up. Apparently, they didn’t want the drama of good versus evil ruining their turkey and dressing.

And so it goes.

The dinner itself was a traditional southern Thanksgiving dinner with turkey, cornbread dressing, pinto beans, greens, Lemon Ice Box pie, pecan pie, sweet potatoes, and this dish my Mama calls Dorito turkey.

Dorito turkey usually has chicken in it but this is how we get rid of the leftovers. It’s a “southern” delicacy.

  • One can of rotel,
  • a bag of Doritos (nacho cheese but it originally used the now discontinued taco flavored chips),
  • cream of mushroom soup,
  • cream of chicken soup, Velveeta,
  • a bunch of shredded chicken/turkey.
  • Mix up all the can goods until it looks like vomit.

Cut the velveeta into cubes. Layer chips, chicken and velveeta in a pan. Pour liquid mixture over it all. Bake in oven until bubbly. (I think its’ 350 degrees but honestly I don’t know) Good times.

My Mama hasn’t learned that we don’t need the huge turkey anymore so we have pounds and pounds of cooked turkey leftover. It was nice to hang out with the fam and talk trash. They are funny. My Dad then went outside and toyed with tools in that stereotypically “real man” way.

That evening my brother and I had some quality time by going to see Twilight. I didn’t hate it but I didn’t like it either. I forgot how much of the story was from Bella’s point of view and was the equivalent of a “voiceover.” This movie didn’t have any voice overs so a lot was lost in translation.

I did see Quantum of Solace earlier this month and it was more like a Bourne movie than anything else. There were no sex scenes or snazzy gadgets. How can you have a Bond movie without sex scenes and snazzy gadgets? But Daniel Craig is great eye candy so I’m not screaming a rant about wanting my money back.

I also made a deal with my Mother that if I woke up and stood in line at WalMart, I would get the Garmin GPS for Christmas. I wanted one anyway but it was half price. I promised that she could wrap it and put it under the tree. I also promised that I would jump up and down and do a happy dance when I saw it. So I got some cash from her and set my alarm.

Now people around here in this small town, or even this relatively small state for that matter, mention that places are crowded all the time even when they’re not. Maybe this is where my New York/DC experience gives me a different perspective on the ideal. I will say that the local Walmart at 5:30a.m. was bona fide crowded. The parking lot was full to the gas station in the back. It was a constant dodging of other people in the aisles. I went to the food portion of the store (which was empty because very few people were interested in groceries) and made it to electronics. OH the line of people wanting Playstations, Wiis, and whatnot was huge but in line I stood. I got a paperback from the nearby book station and waited. [NOTE: carrying a book in your bag and reading it when you wait in line or anywhere else is how “city folk” handle crowds. Most people who have a subway commute are reading the paper or a book. Try it. It will give you something to do rather than be impatient.]

So I got my Garmin and got out of dodge. I did run into an old friend and chatted away. I got back home around 6:30 and went back to sleep. I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.

As I was eating, My mother says, “Missy I got to tell you something.”
“What”
“[my Aunt] was in line this morning too. She was getting one of those Garmins for Grandma so she could give it to you for Christmas.”
“Oh. So this means there are two Garmins. You want one. You can have this one.”
“No I don’t need one.”
“but . . . but… I got up at 5!”
“I know but it would be easier for your to take yours back rather than [your Aunt] to take hers back.”
“okay.”

So a phone call was made and I’m back to Walmart to take my Garmin back.

The plan is not to tell my Grandmother about any of these shenanigans and when I open my present, I am to do a happy dance, hug and kiss my Grandma, and tell her it was something I always wanted. She will be all happy that she made my day and that is really what Christmas gift giving is all about: making other people happy.

My fabulous weekend




Team Fabulous 2008

Originally uploaded by mesawyou

I cannot tell a lie. I was a little bit nervous about meeting the “team fabulous” team and going out with them. The last time I met a large group of people that I mainly didn’t know, I was forced to listen some guy talk about his “Italian sausage” for 45 minutes at a sit down dinner.

But this was not that event. This was fun.

We loaded into the hotel shuttle and took our fabulous butts to La Hacienda on Cantrell. There was booze.

Raspberry margarita

That’s a raspberry Margarita. It was orgasm good.

Since it was also a double birthday party, there was cake.

If you celebrate your birthday at La Hacienda, you get your picture taken with a sombrero and blanket, a serenade and a shot of tequila (if you’re over 21).

There was laughing and practical joking. I think we scared Mitch, the shuttle driver.

I didn’t get the memo about dressing like a Transvestite hooker for the Race but considering that I was called Man Woman in college (damn you Frank and Ken!), I think I can definitely pull that shit off. Nextyear, girls. NEXT YEAR.

It is quite awe inspiring to see 40,000 people gathered in one place to support one cause, no matter what the cause is. The Broadway bridge was bouncing. That was a little bit scary.

The other interesting thing is the groups that line the race route along the way. There are bellydancers, firemen, politicians, regular guys (or the Three miles of men), Bikers, line dancers, cheerleaders, a high school marching band, etc. It’s touching. Really.

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