Sweat marks

Tell me. Why? Why can't the planes use their air conditioning until they are up in the air? Even if they don't use air conditioning, is there a fan somewhere they could turn on?

what about why they can't close the window shades while they are taking off... isn't that bizarre?

I got off the ridiculously hot plane today with sweat marks on my t-shirt. Also, the man next to me (who was reading a JD Robb book - I hate to be a book/literature snob, but I tried to read one of those once and threw it down in disgust. it was awful!) wanted to talk about how hot it was. And then he had to ask the flight attendant about turning the air on. Like she didn't think about it? Like she didn't notice it was 110 degrees on the plane? Dude, didn't you notice that she is wearing polyester? She is hotter than you are for goodness sake.

Sexy Men

You know the ones I am talking about, you stand near them and you get all jittery inside. They touch you and your eyes lose focus. They are the sexy men.

I suspect that this is all chemical and that phermones are to blame. I also suspect that I have significantly different pheremone receptors than others because often the men that make me nearly faint with orgasm aren't attractive to anyone else.

I have to go on a trip with one today. I almost don't like being near him it is so intense. except I like being near him an awful lot. And I hate when I have to work with him. I am so distracted all the time. Is this what men have to deal with? Every 30 seconds picturing bending some woman they work with over the conference table? If what I think about when I am with this guy is what men think about every day then I am glad I am not a man. I wouldn't have done very well in the business world at all.

Irony is that I wouldn't date this guy, heck I don't even want to be friends with him. He has called me for booty calls and I have turned him down.

He Didn't Call.

Hell, everything else went great for the day. He didn't call, but no biggie. Truth be known, I was at home and fast asleep by 1am. So, even if he did call I wouldn't have answered.

However, I feel confident that he will call. and when he does, I will keep you posted on all the dirty details. he he. well, not all of the details.

Done. And now I can enjoy it.

Sure, I'll concede there are lots of times during the training when I really enjoyed running; however, today was more about just getting it done.
And now that it is over and I finished (yeaaa me!), I am feeling good.

The worst part was being one of the VERY last runners on the course. When you can see them taking down the cones and radioing in that they can see the last runner, you start getting a bit anxious.

But, running into the football stadium and on to the field to the finish line, that did rock. Setting my foot up on a bar so someone else could cut off the chip that timed me, fabulous as well. Then I found my friends, ate an orange slice and drank some water. all good too.
I will admit though, the best part was walking back (felt so good!) and having breakfast prepared by the group's non-runners. That was delicious.

You know is a great topper to that great morning of accomplishment? An afternoon nap and then a night out on the town. the fact that there is a certain boy who might be calling me tonight is good too.

a good day!

Morning of the race

It goes with the theme of the blog- this morning I am going to run Crazylegs - an 8K run through downtown Madison ending in the UW football stadium.
I have to be honest. Monday I was going to drop out or switch to the 2 mile walk. Then I did a training run and although I really only planned on doing 2 or 3 miles, I ran all 5 and felt great.
I was revitalized. I can do this!

Then yesterday I had to go get my packet for the race. Fear gripped me. Doubts reentered my mind.

This morning I woke up and my right ankle (not the one that was most recently broken) is stiff. I am so nervous.

But you know what? I am going to do this.
I will do it more slowly than any of my friends.
I will do it more slowly than most of the people in the race.
Shoot, I could come in dead last, it doesn't matter. I will finish.

after that motivational little speech, I still feel like crying. sigh.