6 in 64, but shooting for 500

I’ve recently started preparing for the Marine Corp 10K. I’m running this race in October in Arlington. I know some of you are thinking WIMP! A 10K is only 6.2 miles – who needs training?! Well….. me!

First off, I’m super excited. To be associated in any way with a Marine, or with anything that has the word “Marine” in it, is a personal accomplishment and an honor. One day I’ll graduate to the Marine Corp Marathon, but not this year. Baby steps. I’m over the moon that I get to run in this race which begins just after the MCM, and on the same course. I even get to cross the legendary MCM finish line at the MCM war memorial. AND I GET A SHIRT! (Little things in life..) It’s going to be an amazing day!

My ultimate, ultimate goal is to finish in 54 minutes. I know that is considered a snail’s pace to many others.. but for me, I’ll take it! That would put me in around 500th place out of approximately 2,600. Last year’s winning time was 33.06. Um, I will NEVER do a 5.5 minute mile, and I’m ok with that.

Today I did it in 64 minutes. Looking at last year’s results, that would put me in 1,079th place out of 2,695. Translate – somewhere in the middle. I don’t like being the middle man, so I’m shooting for the 500. Gotta make that extra 10 minutes disappear.

The Backer Inners

Here we go again. Please know that I am not inherently grumpy. Or cynical. Or a hater. I really am a nice person. I simply have a severe case of self-diagnosed S.P.I.D., aka Stupid People Intolerance Disorder. With the over-abundance of stupidity in the world epidemic, I find it my civic duty to call it when I see it.

Today I ran an errand at lunch and decided to pop into Harris Teeter to grab a summer roll. I LOVE sushi, and they have a fantastic sushi bar at the swanky new HT by my office. Mistake number one was thinking I could just “pop” in and out of there. This area, as we have heard me rant about before, is extremely over-populated. Plus this swanky new shopping center is home to about 8 restaurants, a Starbucks, a bank, and a grocery store. All on one block. Not kidding. Going into the HT shopping center at lunch time is like strolling through Southeast DC alone at 1 AM. It’s just not a smart idea. Anyway, off I go to take my chance and get my summer roll.

In these instances of over-crowded streets and parking lots, it’s not uncommon to dodge the occasional pedestrian, flying cart, darting sports car, and SUV a-hole who thinks because he’s bigger he can just run right over you. I’m used to that. That’s ok. It’s even ok that 5 other cars are tailing me around and around the parking lot like the Daytona 500 just hoping for a chance at the parking spot victory. The kicker came when I finally saw the spot. The empty parking spot that I’ve now circled around 15 times hoping for. I start to think the car in front of me is going to pass right by it, and it will be all mine. But no. The idiot goes just far enough ahead that I can taste it, then puts the car in reverse. You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me. Not only did you drive right past the space, you are now expecting me and the five other people behind me to back up and wait so that you can “conveniently” back in. Just because backing in is your preferred method of parking.

So listen up all you backer inners – DON’T BE A MORON. When you see an empty parking space and you know there is a parking lot full of other people who want it, don’t be an a-hole. Just pull forward into the space and have a nice life!

Is it my IPOD or the Running that Speaks to me?

I love running. I’ve gotta tell you. There’s something truly therapeutic about being out on the open trail bright and early in the morning. I’m not sure if it’s the sleepy-headed little critters that call to me as I pass them, or the feeling I get when I pass other runners or bikers who are out enjoying the beautiful day. But, whatever it is - it does it for me. It’s great mind therapy. Things become clearer to me when I’m out on a run, and I notice things and think about things that typically wouldn’t occur to me. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe just dehydration!

Lately I’ve been taking a particular notice of bikers. They are cult-like. They are part of a secret society – one where you need to know the secret handshake or speak the special code language to become fully integrated. Since I don’t bike, I don’t get it and I just smile and move out of the way as they chant, yell, snort, grunt, send up a hand signal, and fly right past me.

One day (near Father’s day and my little boy’s birthday), I went out for a run. I always take my IPOD with me because the music gives me the extra little oomph I need to go that extra mile. I was listening to my music not really paying attention to my surroundings. I met one biker who said “Arrrrrgh!” Another said “You’re lucky lady!” Another threw up some sort of hand signal that meant absolutely nothing to me. As I ran along about to pass out from the heat and from just tiring out, Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer came on. I laughed and thought “How appropriate!” as Jon sang “Oh, oh we’re half way there, oh oh Living on a Prayer.” How ironic that I was half way through my run at that exact moment. As I moved along, I heard bikers behind me laughing and chanting something unfamiliar. As they flew right by me, it occurred to me that KC and the Sunshine Band’s Shake your Booty was playing in my ear. Then I started to wonder if my booty was doing a little too much jiggling in my running shorts. Finally, as I was headed for home stretch, G&R’s Sweet Child O Mine came on. I thought about my baby, and how he was about to turn 4 years old, and how incredibly proud I am of him every day. With Father’s Day right around the corner, I though of my dad and knew that he was also proud of me for getting out and trying to stay healthy.

Somehow it all connected for me that day. The running high, the music, the camaraderie among the active. I love it, I love it, and I want some more of it.

The First Name Expletive

Just for a second pretend you are me. If I asked you politely “Where would you like to go for dinner tonight?” Of the following two replies, take a guess at which one drives me bonkers.

A. It doesn't matter to me, you choose.
B. It doesn’t matter to me, KIM, you choose.

If you chose option B, YOU ARE CORRECT. I hate the first name expletive. Putting emphasis on the name in a sentence is like saying mean things without having to use the mean words. Example:

It doesn’t matter to me, KIM, you choose sounds like “Kim, I really don’t give a shit. Just pick a place and let’s go. No need to have a discussion over what to stuff in our mouths. It’s just fat and calories anyway. Who cares?”

Whereas;

It doesn’t matter to me, you choose sounds like sing song. “Oh, it doesn’t really matter to me, I’m simply along for the ride, and to enjoy your pleasant company. So you decide and I’ll be happy no matter what.”

See what I mean?!?!?!?!?

Putting the first name expletive in there is so direct and personal and to the point and mean. It brings seriousness to the conversation. I don’t like seriousness. Seriously!

Don’t call me Kim. Or, I won’t ask you to dinner anymore.