Olivia

I met a delightful little girl at the podiatrist's today.

I was sitting in the waiting room reading a magazine when she approached me with a cup of water she drew from the water cooler.  "Here you go!" she said.  She drew a cup of water for herself and sat down next to me.

"Thank you!  That's very thoughtful of you!  What's your name?"

"Olivia.  What's yours?"

"Diane."

"Diane?  Do you have a little girl?"  Holy shit.  The questions little girls ask.

"No, I don't have any daughters or sons."

"Do you have a husband?"

"No, I don't have a husband either!"

Olivia's mom came in and started putting Olivia's shoes on.  "Mommy, this is Diane, and she doesn't have any little girls and no husband either!"  Apparently Olivia found my lacking of daughters and husbands noteworthy.

Where was I?  Oh yeah.  Podiatrist's office.  If you ever want a podiatrist in South Bay Los Angeles, I got you one.  This guy is awesome.  Dr. Thompson on Skypark in Torrance, but he also has an office on Sepulveda in Manhattan.  Best doctor I've met in South Bay so far.

Anyway, I'm cleared to race on Sunday.  Yay!  And both my podiatrist and my physical therapist think I need as little support as possible - neutral shoes all the way for me.

I'm going to drive up to San Francisco tomorrow, and it's going to be excellent.  Tomorrow also happens to be 100 days to MCM as well.  The countdown is on!

So Sunday.  A year ago I ran the same race, and it was quite possibly the most awesome running experience of my life.  Yes, it trumps my beloved first marathon.  When I finished the race I had the most magnificent runner's high.  I was certainly not the fastest half-marathoner that day, but to me, I had just conquered the known Universe.  And I really wanted to f*** someone.  (Hey, conquerors claim prizes all the time, right?)

On top of all of that, I also PR'd that day (PR stands for Personal Record).  I think my time was something like 2:37.  It is easily the toughest half-marathon course I've run, but I had my best time to date.

I'm going to take that bridge by storm this year.  Bring it, hills of San Francisco!  And I'm going to break 2:30. . . . or else I'll just go back next year and do better.

Speed Bump

OK, I'm officially not ever shopping at your store again, Road Runner Sports!  You might have screwed my 2010 racing season up for good!

I went in last weekend to get a new pair of shoes.  Mine were starting to get a bit fatigued and I thought it would be nice to have a new pair for my race next weekend.  They were Mizuno Wave Rider 12s, a neutral shoe.  I never had any problems with them and enjoyed running in them.

At Road Runner Sports, one of the things I liked (read that, liked!  I'm not liking you guys anymore!) about their store is that they have some pressure sensitive mats and a video camera on a treadmill that can analyze how you step, how high your arch is, etc.

Well, my left foot overpronates a bit.  Nothing to be worried about, and while I do have nagging pains every once in a while on my left side, it's nothing I freak out about.  I just make sure I stretch and chalk it up to my body's unique idiosyncrasy.

The girl at RRS practically snapped at me, "Who said it was OK for you to run in neutrals!  You should be in stability shoes!".

For the record, no, no I do not need to be in stability shoes.  Give me my neutral Mizunos and leave my overpronating left foot alone.

So last night, I get the great idea to test out the new shoes (also Mizunos, but stability ones, with a stiffer sole) during my speed workout.  My feet hurt a bit after the run, but I chalked it up to just breaking-in pains.  By 9:00 PM, my left foot had a swollen lump on it (near the back of the arch) and was very painful.  I iced it, and tried to go to sleep.

12:30 AM - I decided to go to the hospital, since the darn foot woke me up and I couldn't put a lot of weight on it.

4:30 AM - The doctor decides to "aspirate" the hematoma (bruise), but we get nothing.  Great.  I've been poked thrice (once for the numbing agent, two tries for the "aspiration") for nothing.  The doctor did say she could inject some liquid Motrin, but I decline.  They send me home with crutches.  I'm slightly grateful for the crutches, because I'm not sure how I could have gotten to my car otherwise.

7:20 AM - I arrive at work after a short nap, sans crutches.  For whatever reason my foot doesn't mind walking around so much.

All of this wouldn't be so stressful if I didn't have San Francisco's half next weekend.  They don't defer registration, and I think even if I could get it deferred it's past the deadline (July 11th).  Brilliant.

I'm totally going to return those shoes and never shop there again.  If they're willing to exchange me some Wave Rider 13s (supposed to be very similar to the 12s) I'll concede them that, but no more shopping there for me.  It's gonna be Village Runner or A Snail's Pace all the way.

Since I'm doing so well today I'm hoping I can just take it easy this week and next and be OK for the half marathon.  I hope.  Man it would suck having to tell my parents they can't watch me race because some blond bimbo at the store tried to tell me what would "work better" for my feet than what was already working fine.  I should make her pay for the hotel and registration fee.

Restaurant Review - Rinaldi's

Oh man, this place is awesome.  I can't recommend this local sandwich shop more.  They use Boar's Head Deli meats, have both hot and cold subs, and a large variety of chips.  I'm never going to Subway again!

The new fellow I'm seeing recommended this place to me for lunch, and it's fantastic.  I wish I had known about this place sooner, because it's pretty much right in my backyard.

I can't wait to get to San Francisco next week and hit up some of the Italian delis there, but I'm stoked that there's one I can frequent for lunch on a weekly basis.

I had the 6" USC Trojans today (come on!  What else would I order?), and it was fantastic.  Add some Kettle Chips and a drink to your order and soak up that sandwich bliss.

323 Main St
El Segundo, CA 90245
(310) 647-2860

The Gripping Hand

One of my favorite operators in C++ is the ternary operator, rarely used in practice.  I was first exposed to it my first or second year of college and immediately liked it.  It was just such a quick and elegant way to express something that could take up four or five lines of code.

I'm not quite sure where I was going with this now, because I really wanted to talk about The Gripping Hand concept in Niven and Pournelle's "The Mote in God's Eye".  Possibly because ternary operator makes me think of ternary logic, and this "gripping hand" concept kind of deals with that. 

I think humans tend to be a bit binary in how we think (on one hand we have A, on the other hand we have B).  So this idea of the Gripping Hand was novel and interesting to me in the book.  Basically, the aliens in the novel have three hands; two hands for detailed work, and one heavy "gripping hand" for the strong-arm stuff.  Because these aliens have three hands, their logic follows suit: on one hand we have A, on the other hand we have B, but on the gripping hand, C.

One of my classmates from USC, who you could say is one of those engineer-types who needs the ideal, perfect solution, asked me which job offer of two he should take.  "Job A makes more money and is stable, but Job B is innovative and unstable.  I'd get to program with Job B."  He liked neither offer enough to pick one on his own.  "So go hunting for more jobs," I said.  Not that he liked that idea any better, but hey.  I guess even the Gripping Hand argument can't win all the time.

Every Time I'm Disappointed . . . .

I try to tell myself that I wasn't entitled to whatever I thought I was supposed to get.  Why this is such a difficult concept for others in my generation, I'll never know.  It certainly is frustrating trying to explain the concept to people who just don't want to see it.  Maybe I am not being articulate enough.

For example, I'm not entitled to receiving e-mails from random strangers from whatever online dating service I use decides it wants to match me with.  I'm not entitled to phone calls from certain guys I happen to be infatuated with.  Unless I'm actually in a relationship with some person and can reasonably expect a certain behavior from that person, I'm not entitled to whatever behavior I thought I was going to get from that person.  Or something like that.  (While it's possible I can correctly predict what will happen given two data points, that is certainly no guarantee, and it's not fair of me to blame the other person for the surprise.)

I have to treat myself respectfully and love myself fully before I can garner any similar feelings for or from another human being.  By putting the responsibility of my happiness and satisfaction in my life out of my hands and into someone else's, I've automatically doomed myself to disappointment and misery.

Also. . . .isn't it nice that life isn't quite what I expected it would be?  For all the downs, I've had some pretty awesome ups as well, including ones I was not anticipating.

Race Report - Redondo Beach 4th of July 5K

Well today surely could have gone better.  I can't imagine it going worse!

It was kind of the perfect storm of crappy circumstances.  I had wanted to PR for this 5K but I knew I had slim chances, given I did a long (7.5 mile) run yesterday that I consider a resounding success.  In the grand scheme of things I feel the long run was a lot more important to feel good about than the 5K.

Showing up at the race at 7:00 AM wasn't early enough this year; the awesome parking spot I had last year had already been taken, so I had to park about a block and a half further away.  Not bad, but there aren't many free parking spots in that part of town.  I can't imagine how ridiculous it will be next year, having to show up 90 minutes before the race.

I do really love how much support this 5K gets every year.  It's also fantastic to see all the parents out with their kids and dog people out with their dogs.  I saw a pair of Dalmatians who were just raring to go, as well as a woman with both a Dachshund and a very grumpy German Shepherd.  Lots of happy Labrador Retrievers as well.

The weather was great for running; not sure what the actual temperature ended up being, but it was overcast and relatively cool.

From this day forward I will not deviate from my proven breakfast strategy of Clif bar and banana chased with water and sometimes coffee.  Oh man.  I thought I'd be fine with cereal and strawberries since that was what I had yesterday morning, but no.  My race day stomach would not have anything of it.

TMI warning, but this was my first race where I had to deal with day 1 of a "monthly" visitor.  Totally not fun.  I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.

My legs were still pretty tired from last night's run, and about halfway through my calves and ankles were screaming, "What fresh hell is this, woman?  What is WRONG with you?"  I did have to stop and walk a few times, but I think overall I'm a much stronger runner now, even compared with last year.

I was able to have an all-right kick at the end, and I definitely pushed myself pretty hard that last mile; hopefully the photos come out with me looking like a winner and not desperate or goofy-looking.  I want some awesome "I am woman, hear me roar!" finish photos some day.  My time? 33:44 (10:53 min miles).  Not bad considering the situation.  Maybe I'll sign up for a Turkey Trot this fall and try to PR then.  I definitely think I'm capable of a sub-30:00 5k under better personal conditions.

Now I Wonder

I was a little surprised at getting picked up at my apartment on our last date.  I didn't really have the time to "sanitize" the place.  Now I gotta wonder what he must have thought when he most likely saw this stack of books in my bookshelf (top shelf, center stack):

Well?  Don't you?

Baggage

We all have emotional baggage.  That shit that weighs us down, that we drag through the years hoping to somehow unburden ourselves of it.  If we're really awful, we force the people around us to carry it for us.  If we're really evolved, we've discovered how to just let it go.  If you're like the rest of us, you pull it all hoping that it doesn't get any heavier.

One particular piece of baggage that I've carried with me involves men and abandonment.  When I was a little girl my dad used to be gone for six months out of the year.  To this day I have no idea how my mom did it, because I'm fairly certain I'm much too insecure to deal with that.

I've always been afraid of being abandoned.  I'd chase my boyfriends with phone calls because I wasn't secure enough to let them contact me.  When they finally would abandon me, I would wonder why I even cared all that much about them in the first place.  Knowing why a thing is broken doesn't do much in terms of fixing it.

He's lightened that load without me even realizing it.  For the first time do I feel free in letting him contact me, secure of his attraction and desire.  How refreshing to let him pursue me at his pace, knowing that he'll be back.  There's a je ne sais quois about his attitude, about how he looks at me, and I just know that I have nothing to worry about.  I'm safe with him.

I savor the sweetness and realize that I think nothing of calling him.  Nothing of a text, an e-mail, a poke on the infamous book of faces.  I relax in that I know he'll be back, and it's delightful.

Granted, I've just been exhausted too, so maybe I took that particular piece of luggage and left it at the last stop.