WTC 93

Until I saw mention of it online, I’d forgotten the 20th anniversary of the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. It got me thinking about how different my life and the world is since then.

If you want to read another interesting perspective on the event, from someone else who didn’t happen to be in the building at the time, check out this Huffington Post article.

I have to find my blue “Welcome Back!” mug. I know I still have it, and like Buck, I’ve never taken a sip from it. At the time I got it, I didn’t think too much of it. Now, it’s priceless to me.


Begin Again

No, not the blog. I’ve been doing this for too long.

I’ve been excusing my lack of weight loss progress over the last four months, saying it’s hard to lose weight in the winter. Our bodies are still under the impression we’re cave people who need to hold onto as much weight as possible in order to survive the colder months. It’s the only thing that makes sense, considering I’ve spent most of the winter in the gym, working my tail off and getting nowhere. Sure, I snacked now and then, but to bounce around the same 5 pounds for 4 months? Aggravating, to say the least.

But winter is almost over, so I plan on seeing some success again soon. More than that, I have a reason to get back to working my tail off:

I was chosen in the Broad Street Run registration lottery! πŸ™‚

I still can’t believe it. I’m SO excited! This was the goal I set for myself last year, when I was still a newbie runner. I’d just seen the news reports of the Broad Street Run and I told myself, “I want that.”

Now, I’ve heard the BSR can be a little crazy. There are 25K runners there, and Broad Street isn’t all *that* broad. I still wanted it.

This year they announced that because of overwhelming demand, registration would be by lottery. I’m never usually one for games of chance, but I didn’t hesitate with this one.Β I wanted in like I wanted my next breath.

Selected runners would be notified on the 18th. It being the day after my birthday, I figured I stood a good chance. A late birthday present, right? Except I had so much fun on Sunday that I forgot about the notifications. I got up on Monday morning, checked my email, and immediately thought someone had gotten into my credit card (again). Who the heck is this, and why are they sending me a receipt for…

Oh. My. God. I’m in. (Who needs coffee when that’s how you start your day?)

So now I’m training, hard. Yesterday I planned on 3 miles but ran 4, just because it felt so good. I did “quarters” (changing the speed every quarter mile), but instead of dipping down to 4 mph, I kept hitting the “up” button on the speed. My goal for the Phillies 5k, next month, is a 10 minute mile. That was my goal last year, before I had any idea how hard it is to run a 10 minute mile when you’ve never run a race before. I still finished with a (then) PR, and have done successively better since. Can I average a 10 minute mile in a 10 mile race? <gasp> We shall see.

I had to share this article I found during the week. Clearly it proves that I’m a double junkie, since I’m addicted to both knitting/crocheting/yarn play *and* running. Hey, I’m no dummy. πŸ˜‰

Can Knitting Give you a Runner’s High?

Hello Out There

I read a blog post the other day having to do with support systems for writers. It got me thinking, because I had a lousy one. It was nice to know I wasn’t alone, and yet it just plain sucks that people can’t back each other up. Usually it’s for selfish reasons, too. Jane wants to write the Great American Novel, but Joe realizes that if Jane is at the computer two hours a day, that’s two hours a day she won’t be spending with him. Never mind that his idea of “spending time together” means sitting in front of the television, watching baseball while she knits and semi-watches too. Productive? If you want a sweater, sure, but if you want a novel written, no.

A writer I follow on Facebook asked about The Biggest Loser yesterday, too. It hit a nerve for me because of 80-something responses, most were, “Oh, I hate that show. The trainers are too hard. The workouts aren’t realistic. These people should be spending time with their families instead.”

I call bullshit to all that. First of all, the trainers have to be hard. No one’s kicked these people’s asses over however long it took for them to gain the weight, and someone has to. Coddling doesn’t get the work done.

Yes, the workouts aren’t realistic. Call it “reality TV” if you want but this is television, people. These folks are taking a time out in their lives to correct something that went wrong over an extended period of time. The fantasy of it is that they CAN spend eight hours a day working out and learning to eat right. (Notice, if you watch the show,Β that they’re also learning to deal with the internal reasons why they gained the weight. That’s major.) Yes, no regular person with a normal family and work schedule can take off eight hours a day and spend it at the gym unless they change careers and become personal trainers. I take an hour a day to hit the gym. It’s what I can manage, my life goes on otherwise, and most everyone around me isn’t inconvenienced by it.

As for spending more time with the family? Does sitting on the couch, watching mindless television count? It shouldn’t. If I go to the gym and lose the weight, I’m healthier. I might live longer, so I *can* spend more time with my family. We can do things together that don’t involve trying to push me off the couch because without human assistance, I need a crane to do it. Sure, it means I’m away from them for an hour a day plus travel time. They seem to manage. I’m not indispensable (though, being a mom, I’m damn close). I raised the boys so that they can take care of themselves for extended periods of time, and if I want to run 10 miles intead of 5, they’re not going to wither and die without me. More than that, I’m giving them an example they can emulate: a parent who puts time and effort into bettering herself, keeping healthy, and staying active. I’d much rather they copy that than a couch potato who’s available 24/7 with a bag of chips in each hand. To suggest I should spend that hour with the boys instead of on myself is just making excuses for being lazy, dammit.

That kind of time investment requires a support system. I want better for the boys than I had for myself, so I’ll be there to encourage them in whatever they choose to do. Even if I know it’s destined for failure. Even if I know that, should they achieve their goal, the struggle will be damn near impossible and even once they achieve it, it won’t result in a lifetime of ease and leisure. I only want them to do what makes them the happiest people they can be.

It’s kind of sad that I didn’t have that kind of backup when I said I wanted to write. Instead I had someone around me who saw my gain as his loss. That’s a selfish view, if you ask me. The whole point of parntership is to support the other person, not because you benefit but because when you see them benefit, it makes you feel good. As Dr. Phil said, “A relationship works insofar as it meets the needs of the two people involved.” If you’re happy at the other person’s expense, something’s not working here, people.

Now get your butt off that chair and run a lap! πŸ™‚