Day 280 = Resistance Bands + Bose

So while I'm still sporting the BodyBugg until my subscription runs out, I'm still plugging it in and checking out the calorie burn. Today I did so much walking that I burned more than 2,300 calories. Not so bad for a night of resistance bands. But hey, hey, hey - the night before a long run is usually scheduled as "rest" but it really just means "no running." Mission accomplished.

Another mission accomplished is I finally treated myself to the Bose iPod docking station. Merry Christmas, Me.

I've been wanting one for years, and not one to settle for just any old sound system, I'm glad I held out for this baby. It sounds great in my living room, and it's going to sound awesome at my party.

Now, I just need to start compiling the many playlists I'll have at the ready at the touch of my Bose remote control button.

Day 279 = Running + Trust?

This morning, I was smart and planned out my workout in advance. So I woke up early and ran 3 miles. I did this because tonight is my company Christmas party, and I decided to bring Deacon. I figure we've been hanging out a little bit recently, and it would be fun to bring him.

Where should I start? Well, he'd warned me ahead of time that he was going to wear a suit he bought at the Goodwill. I thought he was joking, but then I also thought he was telling the truth, yet if he was, I had faith that he'd have the good sense to wear something decent. Verdict? It was decent. I meant it was only about 15-20 years old and not, like, 30 years old, not that it's something I'd condone everyday or for everyone. But it's Deacon, and you just have to know him. But the shoes were thumbs way down.

I decided to check up on my match.com emails while we waited for the cab because I'd written him off on that fact alone. I mean, I'll be honest; I have been starting to wonder about him lately, you know, like does he have potential to roll with me? Um, not sure now. And certainly not putting all my eggs in one basket. But the upside is I could still relax and have fun and hang out with him.

So we waited, and waited, and waited for the cab. Hey, Deacon. I thought I said we needed to leave at 6:15? Scott rolled up with the Land Yacht at about 7:15 and about 2 vodka sodas into the night.

When we arrived at Thistle Cafe (where Deacon's friend happens to be owner and chef), a photographer snapped this picture of us before I could take off my own vintage mink coat (circa 1976). OK. So we were both wearing "vintage." Of course, under my coat I was wearing Michael Kors circa 2009. And you know what goes well with vintage? Vodka does. The bar was and will always be a good idea for Christmas parties. Especially open bars. And especially bars where Deacon has friends.

I realized tonight that yes, I can take Deacon somewhere and he won't throw the shocker sign for every photo and he can carry on a conversation with strangers and he has table manners. So with a few more drinks, I forgot about the suit thing. After dinner, we lingered for a while and talked to Deacon's friend and drank more drinks. Oh, vodka, how I could write tomes about you! That said, there were other bars to get to, so we didn't linger too long. Deacon suggested Malverde again, and I obliged, although I do not know what the big attraction is for this bar.

Once again, we were just about the only people in the place. We sat on a couch that was across from another bank of couches where another couple were "lounging." If you squinted your eyes just right, which is about the only way I could control my eyelids at this point, then it looked like you were watching soft porn. I think we took bets on whether they would go for it right there on the couch. I said, "get a room" out loud, but I knew they couldn't hear me over the music. I just wanted to say it. Out loud.

So to divert our attention and derail any sexual tension that might have been building, we started talking. I think Deacon did most of the talking. And I did some listening. I was tired because I woke up early to run and dare I say I couldn't only finish half of my 7th vodka soda. And at some point, like it has before, Deacon and I started talking about trust and how I should trust him. I told him that I had a dream that a friend of ours told me, "Don't trust Deacon." So this has been a point of contention lately.

Then right there on the couch, Deacon tried to kiss me, but I pushed him off because I said we are just friends (and I was still debating on how I felt about him in a "more than friends" situation). I take my time with things. But it was time for a change of venue, so we walked down the street to Lavaca Street Bar.

To cap off the night, I just ordered a beer. Deacon kept wanting to talk about trust again and why don't I trust him. I said I'm still getting to know you better. He convinced me to do the "fall into my arms" trust exercise. I agreed. But just as I was about to fall, I caught a glimpse in a mirror of him flinching out of the corner of my eye, and I caught myself.

You would have thought I'd just run over a baby if you were judging by the way his attitude changed to a "how dare you? how could you?" tone. I told him about what I saw in the mirror and he denied it. I told him it was a dumb game and I didn't want to play. He kept pressing and I said, "This is the end of the discussion. I'm not discussing this any more." But like a child, he wanted to get his way and have the last word or at least continue to press my buttons. I told him that if he wanted me to trust him then he needed to give me a reason to trust him and not play some stupid game with me. He argued his defense. I whipped out my digital voice recorder and started recording: his side vs. my side of this silly argument. I told him he'd had too much to drink and that when he was sober tomorrow, he could listen to how irrational he was sounding.

After that, we shared a cab back to his house, and I said, "This is why you are single. You go after women with drama, and I will have nothing to do with it. I don't want any part in drama. I'm not going to let you pick a fight with me over nothing." I don't know if he heard any of it or processed any of it or will remember any of it, but when we got back to his house, I didn't even go inside. I just said goodnight and got in my car and drove home.

I'm a little disappointed that the night ended this way. I was beginning to enjoy my time hanging out with Deacon and getting to know him and not having to make any decisions about trust or kissing or conflict resolution. But it is what it is, and there's always tomorrow. And more vodka.

Day 278 = Gym + Last Session

Oh, so sad that this morning was my last session with Regan. Whatever will I do on Monday and Wednesday mornings or when I step into a gym from now on?

I have absolutely loved training with Regan twice a week for the last six or so months. I have seen fabulous results. In fact, we took my measurements today and I've lost 8% body fat and 7 inches around my waist, plus more inches around my hips and other areas. Success!

Day 277 = Running + Bicep Indentations

I woke up early and ran in the morning. Just me, my iPod and my shoes. No, I wasn't running naked; it's not like anyone would want to see that.

My BodyBugg subscription is going to run out soon, and I think I might take a break from it for a while. It's been good to me and has worked well, and I think I know what I should eat each day and about how many calories I can expect to burn based on the activity. But wearing the Bugg starts to become a bugaboo and cumbersome after a while, not to mention that it starts to create an indentation in my biceps. And while that helps with toning my arms, it's still a pretty clear indentation that looks, well, weird.

So around Christmas Eve when the subscription ends, I'm going to take it off and see if my biceps don't fuse back to normal, yet cut.

Day 276 = Gym + On My Own

So this morning I was on my own at the gym. I was a little shy at first, and it was weird seeing Regan in the trainer area training someone else. But oh well. I better get used to it because money doesn't grow on trees and Regan doesn't work for free. I did end up burning about 375 calories according to the BodyBugg, so that's not too bad for "on my own." That tells me that I did retain some of the fine knowledge that Regan threw down on me.

Tonight I started planning my Christmas party and decorated my tree. I have used a blonde-haired, brown-eyed angel for about 13 years, and I'm wondering if I should change and go with a star. She just looks so dark up there with all the lights on the tree. I also think my tree needs something. Like a ribbon, but I don't know how people do that. I am not good at stringing lights and decorating a tree. Every year, I put as many lights on the tree as I can and just hang eclectic ornaments all over it. I'm sure there's a better technique to decorating a tree, kind of like they do on TV and in magazines and at The White House, but I don't have that special touch.

Day 275 = Resistance Bands + Christmas Trees

I need to start getting in my recovery runs on Sundays instead of bailing out and doing a light workout at home, like I did today with my resistance bands. Although, I did stay very busy today.

Around 10 am, I drove over to Deacon's house because I had asked him to help me haul in a Christmas tree and set it up in my house. He had the idea for us to drive to Elgin and cut one down. Oh, joy! I've done this before, so it should be fun. Even in the rainy drizzle.

If you've never cut down your own Christmas tree, you really must try it sometime. I had a fresh-cut tree about 10 years ago that smelled lovely and little Ringo loved to sleep under the tree. He was still a puppy then. I guess he felt like I'd brought the outside in. The tree farm we drove to is in Elgin, Texas, and that's about 45 minutes east of Austin on Hwy 290.

Upon arrival, we took a hay ride over to where the trees are growing. It's only Dec. 6 and already so many have been cut. Deacon grabbed a hand saw from a box when the hay ride trailer dropped us off in front of a row of trees. He kept saying I need something full. But I was looking for something tall to take advantage of my high ceilings that could accommodate my many years of collecting ornaments.

I gotta say it was slim pickins. I felt like we'd never find anything worth cutting down and we almost gave up. And then there it was. The perfect "imperfect" tall and full and green tree. So Deacon got to sawing and then hoisting the tree over his head like He-Man. Show off. But it was nice of him because if he wasn't there, I'd have to drag the tree myself. Wait, if he wasn't there, I'd be home with a cocktail right now.

After supervising him tying it to the roof of my SUV, we went to the ghost town. He'd told me about this place and about the burgers there. When we drove up, it really was a ghost town. It was like someone built this little fake old town from the 1800s. There was a saloon and a jail. An undertaker and a grave yard. And the ice house is where we had a ghost burger, fries and a beer. Then we took a tour and walked through the labyrinth. And posed for pictures in the jail. I thought this would have been a great date if this was a date.

We passed up the strip clubs on the way into Austin, even though Deacon thought I would get loads of comedy material from them. No doubt I would, but I was on a schedule. However, we did decide to drive through the Rundberg area of Austin in case we might have a hooker spotting. And we did. Saw a hooker and her pimp! Deacon said he'd never seen that, which I thought was pretty unbelievable, but I gave him a high five anyway.

Day 274 = Running + Blind Date

This morning, I was supposed to run 17 miles, but I accidentally shaved off the last mile and ended up with just 16 logged on the Garmin. I could have made up that mile on the trail, but I was so sore. And sometimes it just gets old. And me want taco.

Oh happy day. There is a taco place within walking distance from my house now. Not that I'm going to walk after this run, but it's nice to know it's there. It's a Taco Shack on Spicewood Springs. This is different from Molca's on Mesa, which is also walking distance, but they have other food besides breakfast and tacos, which they sell for $2.50 each. I know this because some mornings when I run down Mesa, there is a guy who stands out on the sidewalk with a sandwich board that advertises a breakfast at Molca's.

Today is Taco Shack. I was excited to try Taco Shack, and I just couldn't wait to sink my teeth into a migas taco. So I walk into Taco Shack and go up to the counter and looked at the menu and didn't see what I wanted. But the tall, blonde hyper guy behind the counter tried to help.

Me: Can you make a taco with egg whites?
Hyper Guy: Ummmm, no. We don't do that here.
Me: OK. Do you have migas tacos?
Hyper Guy: Ummmmmm, no. We don't do that either. But I could have them add pico and break up some chips in the taco for you.
Me: Ummmm, no.

So I just got two bacon, egg and cheese tacos and ate them at home without sauce. I'm going back to Juanita's or Tacodeli from now on. Shame on you, Taco Shack. Can't you separate a huevo?

Oh, but before I forget, I had a blind date tonight. His name was Brian and my friend Joel set us up. Joel told me that Brian had seen me across the room when I was at Burger Club and he was at a happy hour. I was flattered because this hardly ever happens, and by hardly, I mean never.

So I met Brian for dinner at El Arroyo, and he told me a completely different story of how Joel set us up, which knocked me right off my high horse. I needed to get off there anyway. After dinner, we walked across the street to the Mean Eyed Cat, which is a brick and mortar shrine to Johnny Cash. Brian and I sat inside in a corner, and I had a beer and kept trying to figure out how in the hell Joel could think we were at all compatible. Brian is nice and single and drinks beer, but beyond that, we don't have a lot in common.

Day 273 = Resistance Bands + TST Party

I'm supposed to be the social director of Twenty-Six Two Marathon Club, but I haven't really done a very good job. I'm really good at throwing parties, but it's hard when you have no budget and people have all kinds of random schedules and don't want to go to anything you try to organize. But when the president of the club throws a party, then it's all OK and people want to go to that. So I baked cupcakes (as promised) to bring to the TST Christmas party tonight, which was only open to board members and first-time marathoners.

Last night as I was making cupcakes, Deacon asked me what people talk about at a running group Christmas party. Well, to answer that question, I can now tell you since the party is in the past. Some of the first-timers talked about how they were nervous about running 17 miles the next day. My advice to them was to just get to the 8.5 mile marker and then just think the rest is on your way home. That's all you have to do is run home now. It's easier for me to compartmentalize it that way.

We also talked about where the where the best bathrooms are on the running route. Most Randall's and HEB grocery stores are good. Sometimes Starbucks will let you in if you don't buy anything, and I prefer them because they are one-stall operations. There's a new Burger King on 35th and Jefferson that is also a very clean one-stall operation.

Others talked about what to eat before a long run. I like to eat a non-fiber breakfast the day before, which consists of egg whites and cheese. I usually have a made-to-order omelet at work. I eat normal throughout the week, but I try to stick to about 1500 calories a day. As you know by now, on a long run day I reward myself with a breakfast taco or three.

Our coach told me about some carb-loading techniques. Evidently, there is the OG way and the new school way. I will have to expand on this later as I forgot those specific details that set them apart.

So tonight, in preparation for that 17-mile run before me, I just did the low-key resistance bands workout.

Day 272 = Running + First Fire

I have lived in my little condo for about two years and have been afraid to start a fire. I have no idea what's up in that chimney, so what if I start a fire and it becomes an uncontrollable blaze? I thought I might need a chimney sweep to clean it out before I get to cracklin'.

So I asked Deacon if he could recommend a chimney sweep. He said they are all BS and that I should just get a Duraflame log. Really? It's that easy? Sweet.

So after work, I went for a run and realized that I was really increasing my endurance and my general speed had increased. I attribute this to working out consistently everyday, but Regan says it is weight training. I'm not stopping either, so I may never know. But for example, my long run pace used to be 12:30 ON A GOOD DAY. Now, my long run pace normally hangs around an 11-minute mile or sometimes under. Sometimes I slow down toward the end, but I'm OK with that. I'm still faster than I used to be. During regular runs that are not long run pace, I'm easily running 10-ish minute miles.

After my run, Deacon sent me a text to ask about the fire. I said it's working! He said he wanted to come over and see it and he'd bring pizza. I figured, "why not?" So Deacon brought Mangia pizza and helped me make cupcakes that I'm taking to a Christmas party for my running group tomorrow. I made them all fancy by piping on the icing and then sprinkling on some Christmas-themed sprinkles. OK, to be a good hostess, I let Deacon sprinkle on sprinkles, too.

Day 271 = Gym + Match.com Date #1

This morning I worked out with Regan at the gym. She really throws so many workouts and variations at me. I hope I can remember them because today is my last official session. I remember a lot of the basics, but I'm not sure I'll be hopping on that step by myself.

Remember match.com and me joining up on this Internet wasteland? Well, tonight I had my first date, and I thought it went well. His name was Russell, and he was tall and looked like that guy on "Sleepless in Seattle" and "While You Were Sleeping" and "Mr. Wrong." Oh, that guy's name is Bill Pullman. He's cute.

We met at the Draught House, and he was already there. So match.com of him to beat me there, but I think I was late. I couldn't decide what to wear since nothing seemed to be clean enough to wear, and I didn't want to drag out 4-day old dirty jeans to wear on a first date. Russell drinks Guinness, so two points for him already. And he works for some hologram-making company, which I thought was pretty cool. But most of all, I remember he kept me laughing most of the time, so that is big time score for him.

At the end of the date, he hugged me and said he wanted to see me again. I said something to the effect of "yeah, I'm agreeable to that," but it was a little more casual. He's going out of town this weekend, so I hope I hear from him next week. Maybe match.com isn't so bad. For now, anyway.

Day 270 = Running + Fonda San Miguel

This morning I ran. I ran about 3 miles along Mesa Drive. The deer were out and about, as well as the people driving to work. And I was running in their faces.

Tonight I'm having dinner with my co-workers and our Microsoft sponsor at Fonda San Miguel. I've never been to this restaurant before, and I've always wanted to go, so I'm super pumped about it. But they don't have mole on the menu. Mole (pronounced mo-lay) is this sauce made of chocolate and spices and something else and it's usually served with pollo (chicken) but you can eat it with other meats or I guess over rice if you're a vegetarian.

Whenever I talk about food and try to find a good photo of food, I realize how difficult it is. Photographing food is a real art. I didn't take this photo, but it does represent what I ordered. The Ancho Relleno San Miguel, which is a chile ancho filled with chicken, olives, capers and almonds in a light cilantro cream sauce. I highly recommend this, and I recommend another 3-mile run to burn it off, too.

Day 269 = Resistance Bands + Chick Schtick

Being out of town for 5 days really gets me out of my groove. I hate when that happens. So while I'm going to use my resistance bands yet again tonight, at least I am on the high that performing at Chick Schtick gave me.

It went really well for being my first one. I'm still making friends there, so no need for any of my real friends to actually show up. I gave everyone late notice, but even those who claim to want to see me have not even showed up. Maybe I'm not such a good friend after all. Maybe I'm more of a loner than I think I am.

I was up first, and I got a lot of laughs. I told my doll house joke and the one about the songs on my ipod and the one about the tramp stamp. I was very pleased with my set. I wore what I wore to work today, which was a white button-down shirt with 3/4-inch sleeves and a black skirt and black boots. I thought about wearing my FMPs, in fact, I had them in my car. But I just stuck with the killer boots.

So here I am, 8 weeks into reuniting with my hobby of stand-up comedy after an 18-month hiatus and 6 years since the first time I ever gave it a try, and this was like a real show that wasn't open mic. Now what?

Day 268 = Resistance Bands + Joke Bombs

I flew back to Austin today and decided that I will be throwing another Christmas party, but this time, it's going to include men. Normally, my parties are usually girls-only events, but one reason I bought my house is because of its great floorplan that is conducive to partying. Why not let guys enjoy it, too?

I worked on my jokes for tonight at Cap City open mic while I was on the plane. I had a lot I wanted to try out from Thanksgiving. Too bad they bombed tonight. They weren't really fleshed out. I had thought about doing some of my set for tomorrow night's Chick Schtick, but I didn't want to be redundant.

Then I came home and worked out with resistance bands and went to bed. Unfunny.

Day 267 = Resistance Bands + The Paper People

Normally, a Saturday morning would begin with me running a lot of miles with my running group. But today I'm in Arkansas, and when I travel here, my routine just goes out the window. And honestly, I'm absolutely tired and worn out from the holiday. I hate letting go of my routine, but this trip is different, and I'm somehow OK with that.

Today, Mom and I had lunch with one of her oldest friends and her goddaughter, Margie and Anna, respectively. Anna and I have been friends for years. Mom and dad and Margie and Steve (her husband) used to hang out on the lake all the time. One time they were driving to the lake, and Margie said to my mom, "Carol, have you ever noticed how many people named Paper live on this road?"

So I'm just going to enjoy hanging out at home with family today and using my resistance bands later. Those things are so easy to pack.

Day 266 = Gym + Jukeboxes

For my brother's 31st birthday this year, I gave him a membership to a gym. No, I wasn't trying to send any message. This is what he wanted. For today's workout, he said he'd take me to his gym so we could work out "together."

My mom took me to his new house, and he gave big sis the obligatory tour. Jason now has two jukeboxes in his living room. One is his; the other is mine. And somehow, some way, I will get that jukebox back to Austin. It's a 1961 Seeburg, and it played music at my dad's office. The one that Jason is keeping is a lot cooler, but it's bigger and heavier, and it's the one that was in our house. The one in this photo is the one that will be in my living room at some point. Then I'll have to find someone to fix it. And then will be the fun task of filling it with records. Maybe I'll host a sock hop. With Jell-O shots.

At the gym, I made the rounds. Working out with Regan has trained me well. Jason and I didn't do much working out together, but he did spot me at one point. Thanks, bro.

Day 265 = Walking + Thanksgiving

My uncle arrived this morning, earlier than we expected, and just before I was heading out for a walk. He's a retired municipal judge, and I'm his "favorite niece (only niece)."

My long walk today included strolling around mom's neigborhood and wandering through all the suburban streets. I walked about 4 miles. I think a good walk is a good way to mix up the workouts. It gives me time to focus on other thoughts that I don't think of when I'm running. Because when I'm running, I'm thinking about my technique or my breathing or my time or if something is hurting and how I need to adjust and compensate for that. But walking is easy and still better than sitting on the couch. You get to take in more, like smells and the rustling leaves. I walked past a bunch of guys hanging out in a garage and deep-frying a turkey. Speaking of that, I know what's cooking at home, so this walk is, like, preventative.

Today is Thanksgiving, and usually we go around the table holding hands and saying what we're thankful for. I'm a sensitive and compassionate person, but this is just too much cheese for me. I'm thankful for my family and friends. I really am. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Day 264 = Running + Electric Cowboy

One day before Thanksgiving and what does one do in North Little Rock, Arkansas? I ran 3 miles today, so I got that goin' for me.

Of course, a visit to Arkansas isn't complete without a trip to the local Wal-Mart. I was in the ice cream aisle and out of nowhere, this skinny redneck guy blurts out in a prime Arkansas accent, "I cain't find anything in this store. She gave me the caysh, but where the hell is the horse-raydeesh?"

By the way he was dressed, something told me this wasn't his first time in a Wal-Mart.

After a long day of cooking and prepping for tomorrow's meal, my cousin and I went to the Electric Cowboy to hear her boyfriend's band. I've never been to this honkytonk. In fact, I'd never set foot in a honkytonk until I moved to Texas, where they are considerably better yet there are a lot of places just like Electric Cowboy. But none of them have a sequined-covered saddle hanging from the ceiling.

Day 263 = Running + My Hometown

I flew into my hometown of Little Rock, Arkansas, this morning for the holiday week. I really don't need to get into the details of the flight other than you can stir a baby (not shake it) to shut it up on a plane. Mom says that's OK. But never shake a baby.

So let me get right to my 263rd workout, which was a 4-mile run. Mom and I drove over to Jim and Pat's house, family friends. And they are like family. Mom and Pat have been BFFs for almost 40 years. Her son, Michael, and I were born on the same day; he's one hour older than me. We grew up having birthday parties together, and his sister Courtney was a bridesmaid in my wedding years ago. Now she has a 4-year-old, Tyler, who when he grows up he wants to be a married person.

When I was married 10 years ago, my ex and I lived in a house just down the street from Jim and Pat, so I walked in this neighborhood a lot. I didn't run back then because I didn't start running until I moved to Texas. But I'd walk my dog Ringo around the neigborhood.

So I started out running down Arlington to Crestwood and across North Hills and then left on Fairway and right on Bunker Hill Drive. I grew up in that house at 4601 Bunker Hill Drive. I ran by that house tonight. It still has the teal doors and window shades from the 1980s; both design elements were additions from my dad's ex-girlfriend who was an interior designer. I wondered if it still had the same carpet, which was mauve with a teal border. Yes. That was my house. I cringe now to think of that Boca Raton look inside a 1976 ranch house. I used to say that I'd buy that house if it was ever for sale again, assuming I'd still be living in Arkansas. It would be so pimp if I lived there.

When I was little, I think I had a couple of lemonade stands on that corner of Bunker Hill and Mt. Vernon. But one time, I had a jewelry stand where I tried to sell my grandmother's costume jewelry and tried to pass it off to my friends as real diamonds. They weren't that gullible, and I didn't make any money.

One time, I joined my friends Jennifer and Angie for a bike ride down the street to the corner of Fairway and Bunker Hill where there was a church and a big parking lot. I lied to my mom about where I'd been because I wasn't allowed to ride my bike that far. I was probably 6 or 7 years old. I got in sooo much trouble.

When I was 17, I had a little party at my house. At one point, my friend Michele went out to her car and came back in and said it had been stolen. We all went outside (I was filming it all with my camcorder) and found out that her car was not stolen but evidently had just rolled on down the hill, right into my neighbor's garage. There were bricks all over the hood of her car. She told her mom her car was sideswiped, and I think she believed it. I think Michele told her mom finally when she was in her 30s.

After my run, I had dinner with Mom, Jim, Pat, Courtney and Tyler, who showed me his bank that "poops money." And by pooping money, I mean the bank lost its bottom cover.

Day 262 = Gym + Running Shoes

This morning was my gym workout with Regan, and we are still seeing results. I can't wait for my family and friends to see me when I fly to Arkansas tomorrow to see them all for Thanksgiving.

I promised an entry about running shoes, so here it is in bullet points.

• Get fitted by a professional. Go to a reputable running store if you can. People at Foot Locker or Academy may be helpful but may not be trained to fit you for proper running shoes. You will want to know if you overpronate or underpronate; if you have a high or low arch; if you have a narrow foot (the two latter you probably already know).
• Take the wet test. You can do this before you get fitted. If anything, it will give you more insight on a personal level for when you set about buying your shoes. Runner's World has a good article here. In fact, Runner's World has a lot of great stuff to say about buying running shoes.
• Don't fall in love with the aesthetics or price. You might think the pink or blue shoe is a lot cuter than the gray one, but the gray one might fit. If the right shoe for you is the fugliest one in the store and costs more than your budget, get the shoe. Trust me. I went shopping for running shoes with my mom and she kept trying to steer me to some cute shoes and I had to explain to her that is not what I'm here for.
• When you find your shoe or a few choices, hold it up and bend it. If it bends in the toe, then it's a good shoe. If it bends in the middle then it's a problem. I'm not sure why, but this was a tip from a coach. And common sense says that your foot bends at the toe so the shoe should bend there, too.
• Get a size bigger. I wear a size 7 in every other shoe I own. But for running shoes (I'm wearing Brooks Glycerin now), I wear an 8.5. In Asics, I wear an 8. It depends on the shoe. But you want room in the toe box. When you're standing up, see if you can fit your thumb width between the tip of your big toe and the end of the shoe. If so, then it's big enough.
• Choose your socks wisely. I don't recommend thick or thin; it's totally a preference. Personally, I wear normal terrycloth running socks. I tried the thin dryfit socks on a run and my feet have never hated me more. Find socks you like and wear them forever.
• Get orthotics if you need them. I bought orthotics in the summer of 2006. I recently had them updated in February 2009. They cost about $400 from a podiatrist, and they are custom made for my feet. Both are unique because my feet are not identical.
• Trade out your shoes. Like you might run every other run in one pair and then offset the other runs with another pair. This lets your shoes last longer and I think that because the shoes stay newer longer then it allows for a more comfortable run. Just my speculation, though.

That's all I can think of now. My favorite brands are Brooks and Asics, and it's OK to wear both and trade out brands. I used to wear Mizuno, and I wore Saucony for my first half marathon. I'm by no means a shoe expert, but I hope my experience can help. It's amazing how many people do not give that much thought to their shoes when shoes are the most critical piece of equipment for runners!

Day 261 = Running + Running Tips

So officially hungover this morning after last night's was dance off with Deacon. We headed back to his house around 1 am and sat on the couch and watched "Vampire in Brooklyn," which definitely marks one of the low points of Eddie Murphy's career. And a low point for Angela Bassett, for that matter. Deacon tried to feed me some croissant with cream cheese and smoked salmon, which (thank you) did not fill me with the usual giddiness that lox and cream cheese usually brings. Instead, I took off the lox. But Deacon's heart was in the right place. He gave me some pajamas and I fell asleep at some point. That's the thing about guy friends - they still try to take care of you.

This afternoon I met up with my running group's board of directors. Among other business that was discussed, we talked about new tips to share with the first-time marathoners. Some I knew already; some tips were new. Let me share....

• Weather Underground - This is where you can go and look up weather conditions (present and historical) in any part of the world; very helpful if you're following the rule of 130.
• Rule of 130 - This means that if the temperature + the percentage of humidity = 130 or more, then don't run. I know I've ignored this before, especially this summer when Austin had about 50 consecutive days of 100+ degree weather. But running when the sum of the formula above is 130 or more will make for an uncomfortable run and if it's for a marathon, then you won't hit your PR.
• Berlin Marathon - This is supposed to be a pretty fast race. And by fast, I mean predominantly downhill. But my group is wanting to plan a trip to run it as a group in September 2010 because the Austin Marathon coordinators know the Berlin coordinators and have been invited. I think it would be fun, but I don't think I'll really want to train for a while after this one.
• No fiber at the breakfast (or the day, if you can help it) before a long run or a race. You know what fiber does, right? You don't want to be 10 miles from your finish and can't find a restroom.
• Electrolytes - I personally like Nuuns tablets. Like Gatorade, they can be mixed with water and provide lots of electrolyte replacement in one small tab. Unlike Gatorade, one tablet is like 10 calories.
• Slimfast - I have yet to try this, but it's supposed to be a good replacement drink directly after a run.
• I recently had a cortisone shot in a nerve in my left foot. At first it didn't seem like it worked. But I think the cortisone just had to settle in. The cortisone can last for weeks or months. I got mine this summer. So far, it's been working.
• Naproxen before a run. You're supposed to take Tylenol DURING a run. You don't want to take Ibuprofen or an anti-inflammatory during the run should you experience pain. But I take a Naproxen (per doctors instruction) before a run and it cuts down on pain in my right ankle and my hip.
• FOAM ROLLER - I put this in all caps because I love mine so much. I cannot stress enough how well these things work. I wish I had a travel size.
• The 5 Keys - Not sure what else to call them, but stretching, water, fueling, rest and conditioning are critical in almost equal ways when it comes to marathon training and long runs in general. All 5 factors have to be present in order to have a comfortable and successful run. Of course, even if you have all that, the run is still about 80% mental.
• Run backwards up hill to make butt pop. Our training director passed along this tip.
• Shoes - I could do a whole entry on shoes. Maybe I will. But the bottom line is to get fitted for the right shoes for your gait.

Additionally, I'm starting to feel arm muscles so I want to keep popping them out, too. But that's all gym stuff since I'm not running on my arms. And I do love to run, so I went for a short run tonight.

Day 260 = Running + Dancing + Bling Bling

I met my running group for a long run this morning for about 13 miles. The marathon is less than three months away now. I was late to my running group because I was charging my BodyBugg. I mean, this morning, I sat there thinking that I had to make a decision: do I really need it charged? Well, yes, I do!

During my run, I saw (i.e., recognized) a guy from match.com who I've been talking to. We were running over the tiny foot bridge on the north side of the river just before the 1st Street bridge. It was completely unexpected and not my most flattering impression. I hope he didn't recognize me, probably breathing out of my mouth.

I realized something new about my body today. I think that since I ran a lot this week, my 13-mile run was much more difficult because I think I was more fatigued. My previous long runs have been much more comfortable, if you can call a 14-miler comfortable. But then, the best part of running sometimes is the breakfast tacos. Lately, I've been favoring Tacodeli, although I'm wondering if I blew my run this morning by gorging on 3 tacos (2 Jess Specials and 1 Sirloin and Egg White with Cheese).

Tonight, I'm going to have a dance off with Deacon. Funny how this started with me inviting him to see a set at The Velveeta Room by a comic I know and now somehow this night is turning into a dance off with a sushi dinner to boot. And Deacon is providing the "bling bling," whatever that is. Well, what it is is you give it away to people like Mardi Gras beads when you're dancing. Wonder who will end up with the least bling tonight.

Day 259 = Walking + On Aging

I went for a walk today because I know I have to rest up for my long run/dance party tomorrow night. It's always something....

My BodyBugg subscription is expiring again. I guess I should re-up and track my progress, but I feel like I'm in a holding pattern because the holidays are right around the corner. But I love looking at the charts on the BodyBug web site. I'm, like, addicted to charts. Love 'em. Eat 'em up. Taste good.

So today during my walk, I realized that thin people do not age well. Fat people have that vibrance in their faces. And it dawned on me that I am truly blessed to be weight-challenged because I'm much more aware of myself and of taking care of myself rather than someone who takes it for granted. And there are a lot of skinny bitches out there who take it for granted; they weigh 112 pounds and it's not toned at all. So in light of this topic, I wanted to find the right photo. Since no one ever guesses my age and generously guess that I'm in my 20s, I found this age-progression photo of Katie Holmes on this site. And the site also pointed out that people in prison age more slowly, which I thought was humorous. There's a joke there somewhere. Gotta find it.

I realize that I will have to work at my weight challenge my whole life, and I accept that. In fact, I am embracing it because I also love working out. Eat it up. Taste good, too.

Day 258 = Running + Retro-writing

So I'm looking back at the notes I wrote for Nov. 19, and I've had a change of heart about writing about my original ideas. I will, however, mention that I had a shitty day at work, which included a lunch meeting at the Olive Garden with my boss. Blech.

I also decided to delete my boss from being a Facebook friend. There just needs to be boundaries. Believe it or not, I stayed away from the Adivan.

The upside of my day was my morning run and then a beer at Burger Club tonight. It's the little things.

Day 257 = Gym + Seriously?

This morning, I was like "this hurts" and "I don't like this" and "I can't feel my arms" and Regan was like, "Girl, you look so tiny." And then I smiled and blushed, but then I still griped and grunted through my workout.

I'm going to keep this entry short because I don't want to rehash the day's events at work, but I just have to say that sometimes I have to be bad cop. And most of the time, I'M the bad cop. I don't like playing that role, but sometimes I find it easy to channel my inner biotch. You don't know how many times I had to bite my tongue on a conference call in an effort to "be profesional" because you can't just tell people to "fucking nut up" in a business environment. I mean, seriously? How can a vendor think it's OK to not escalate a problem that's existed for THREE WEEKS when we are less than 2 weeks from a launch? Seriously.

Drivin' me to take Adivan. That's what it's doing.

Day 256 = Running + Daddy (A Tribute)

I got up and conquered at 3-mile run this morning because it's just safer and lighter. I'm going to start doing this every Tuesday and Thursday this winter. Just 12 more weeks until the marathon.

Now, I have to take a moment to recap a dream I had. It is such a blessing and a special treat to dream about my dad, who died when I was 18. Dreams about him are rare. This primary photo is of Daddy and me (aka Babydoll) in 1991 on my 17th birthday. Yes, the hair is ridiculous, but that was the style back then. Now I sound like my mom.

I dreamt he was alive and living in Arkansas and had a restaurant. He was featured in some full page article in the newspaper with a color photo; and he was standing on a bridge, you could see water. Maybe it was in NYC and not Arkansas. He had built a completely different life from what he had when he was alive. He was married. This time to a sane woman (and by sane, I mean my crazy former stepmother, not my completely sane mother), who was very nice. She has 4 kids. Three are married and then one is not; he's a guy. Then they had a bunch of adopted kids, or maybe they were young workers in the restaurant and they were having a dinner at their house and Daddy cooked. I think he had a BBQ place.

We were at his house. It was modern but warm and homey. It was like something you'd see on a mountain in Colorado at a ski resort with lots of wood, and stone and windows. It was big, too. I saw him, and people around us (his new family) gave us our space. I didn't know what to think. I cried and cried and cried. Like HARD crying. And I was telling him about me and my blog and running and comedy and where I work and how I had been married and it didn't work out but he might like him or he might have not. He was SOOOO laid back in the dream. He really had mellowed out. And I told him about skiing and traveling and living in Houston and living in Austin. And about my friends and dating. Ugh dating. And how I'm a good cook, too. And how I own a house, and I'm not driving a GM car, let alone an American car. I told him about my workouts and working out everyday and how I looked now. He just listened to me and sat and held me. I couldn't believe he was RIGHT THERE! It felt so real. I cried a lot more. Like crying in anguish and not like tears of joy. Probably just pain of missing him in my life and how much he's missed. Weird that you can cry in dreams. It felt so real.

Then cut to my brother Jason and me at our eye doctor's office, Dr. Haas. Only it looked more like a gate at an airport with lots of plain-looking chairs and lots of big windows. There was a refrigerator, and we were told we could help ourselves. I grabbed some juice and two boiled eggs. Jason didn't want any. One egg was fine; the other one had some weird eggy soft spot. I didn't eat that one. Then we were called into the office, and Jason didn't want to go in. I went in to see Dr. Haas in his office, not his exam room, and I told him that I knew about Daddy and he was alive and that I wanted a relationship with him again.

See, in the dream, for some reason, we'd been estranged. Like he'd been in jail, but I'm not sure why, if in real life, if he would really go to jail and that I'd ever disown him. But that is almost how it was in the dream.

Then I woke up and actually pondered whether people visit ghosts in dreams? I believe we are all just balls of energy, and energy is neither created nor destroyed. So when you die, the energy is just transferred somewhere else. Maybe dreams really do connect you to ghost energy. Well, who knows? I don't. But this was a good dream.



What can I say about my Daddy, who died so young at 45? That he was funny, and warm, and ambitious, and outgoing, and charismatic, and firm, and strong, and caring. As an adult, I realize more every day how vulnerable he was and didn't really show that side of him a lot. I'd tell him now that it's OK to be vulnerable, Daddy.

He was big on GM. I wonder what he'd think of the GM downfall. Would he still be driving a Cadillac? What would he think about Obama? Would he have taken up his hobby as a pilot? Would he have a Blackberry or an iPhone? Would he text me? Would he use emoticons like :-)? Would he be on Facebook? Would he even have a computer or email me? Would he have a digital camera? Daddy was all about taking photos. He kept pictures of me and my brother everywhere. Under a glass on his desk at work. Framed around the house and his office. Tucked away in albums. I have boxes of them. It was like he was trying to document every moment. Maybe that’s where my own fascination and pleasure in picture taking derives. If you judged where his heart was by photos alone, Jason and I were clearly the love of his life. Looking at the photos of him with his friends, smiling, a drink in his hand…well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He loved partying with his friends. His funeral was standing room only.

There was always music in our house. My mom’s family was possibly the more musically inclined, but passion for music was evident in our house. This household of music, laughter and creativity created the perfect Petri dish environment for my brother to grow into a musician and me a writer and aspiring comic. We had a jukebox, and Daddy would play music and sometimes break out his saxophone and play along. When I was very young – before my brother was born or while he was still a small baby – I always knew when Daddy came home. I’d be in the back of the house, playing with toys and I’d hear that certain song. It triggered the same reaction as the ice cream truck song, and as soon as I heard it, I’d run to the living room and stand by Daddy as he played this song. We had one of those “fun machine” organs – the kind every hip 70s household couldn’t be without. Daddy learned to play “More” for me, and he’d sing it to me. I requested this song to be sung during his funeral service. He loved Motown and Frank Sinatra and Bob Seger. When I was a teenager, he’d still come home every day and play music. We had a barber’s chair, and he’d make his favorite drink at the bar (equal parts Crown Royal and diet Coke with lots of ice), put on some Sinatra and sit and that chair after a long day at work. My friends and I came to know that was his “alone” time.

Would his hair be gray yet? Would he have gone to jail because of the IRS? What kind of dating advice would he give me? Would he take up running like me? Would he be eating more fiber in his diet? What books would he read; would he read "Twilight?"

He was funny and cracked jokes. He was always telling jokes and making friends wherever he went. And we'd laugh. I could give him a look to let him know exactly where I stood on something and he could do the same. We had date night every Tuesday. He had rules: never leave the house without makeup on or without your hair fixed; could be one or the other. Never eat anything white because it's fattening. Don't order spaghetti on a first date because it's messy.

When I lived with my dad in high school, we developed our own language. For example, “NG” meant “new girl” for him or “new guy” for me. We could look at each other and see right through each other – probably more him through me than me through him. We’d compare our dates – both of us leaving out juicy details, of course. And he’d size up every boy I brought home. “He wears an earring…not good enough for you.” “What kind of car does he drive?” “He’s 22 and in college???” He’d try to give me advice on guys, which generally boiled down to boys will be boys so be careful. When I had mono, he came home from work to bring me ice cream or fetch my medicine. When I was 14 and still a very innocent virgin, I found condoms in his bedroom and opened one out of curiosity. I guess I didn’t dispose of it good enough, and boy did he have questions! He always knew everything I was up to, who my friends were, who my teachers were, what I was reading in school. He was at every game I cheered at or played in and all of my brother’s baseball games. Once, he was almost asked to leave because he was irritating the batter so much with his “hey batter batter” rant going on in the background. He gave Jason and me a boat the summer I turned 16 and made us read the boating safety rulebook from cover to cover. We had to know how to tow and load our boat and clean out the jet when crap got sucked up into it. Maybe we were a little spoiled, but the real reason is he wanted to have his grown-up fun while we had our trivial teenage fun. You could take Johnny Burnett off the lake, but you couldn’t take the lake out of him.

He taught me a lot. About how it's important to maintain good credit. And he'd keep lists (like me). And he'd have a list of motivational quotes; he was always trying to better himself. He'd quote Dale Carnegie: "If you want to be enthusiastic you have to act enthusiastic." And he'd tell me that if you want to be number one, you have to look and act number one. And if you want to be your best you have to look your best. And winners never quit and quitters never win. These are the philosophies I grew up believing.

Loved the lake and boating. He had to have the biggest boat on the lake and then act a fool with his water balloon sling shots. I think a ticket for those cost $50 once. He paid it but it didn't stop him. He trained Jason and me how to hold it just right. Jason was the littlest so he was the one who squatted with the balloon.



He'd play "Johnny B. Goode" on the jukebox and say, "Johnny be no good," and wink. Jason plays that song in his band and I like to stand right next to him. Jason and I can just give a look to each other and just know. What's going through his mind then? I don't need to know, but I sense it. He looks so much like Daddy, and I am so proud of him. I attribute Jason’s great outcome to our mom.

I remember how he liked his coffee with sugar and coffeemate and one ice cube. He woke up and swam every morning and did his situps, and many mornings he'd rip the covers off my bed at 6 am and make me swim with him. He washed his face with Lava soap. He always had chapstick and real handkerchiefs in his pocket. And probably some throat lozenges. His bathroom was the library. He played the sax and went to high school with Bill Clinton, but he did most of his partying with Roger Clinton.

I can hear his laugh when I look at his photos. I still know how his voice sounds. I see the curve of his shoulders and how his arms fall to his side and I can still remember feeling my arms wrapped around him in a big hug. When I was a little kid, he’d lay in the floor with my head on his round, cushy stomach and we’d watch TV together. I had a dream a couple of weeks after he died: We were each standing at either end of a long hallway in the house where I grew up. We ran toward each other and hugged for a long time. I said, “I miss you, Daddy.” He said, “I miss you, too, Baby Doll. You’re going to be OK.” We hugged again, and then the dream was over. Where do people go when they die? Do they really come to you in dreams? Does their energy float around you like a cold draft in the most unlikely places? Is he really watching over me?

So go give your mom and dad and siblings hugs when you see them - if you see them - on Thanksgiving. I mean it!

Day 255 = Gym + Nap

Today was another FMP day because you know I had the ops review to present, followed by a webcast that I was hosting and then a "lunch and learn" meeting to present to people in one of Dell's business units what my team does and does not do, which is critical to point out. That we aren't just your bitch.

Then after that, I worked a little more and then went home and took a nap. I woke up and it was dark. It's like, "Do I just stay in bed or do I get up and piddle around until real bedtime?" I decided to get up and work on this blog.

My gym workouts with Regan are soon coming to an end. I'm not buying any more for a while. I can't afford it. I need new tires. And it's Christmastime soon, so I will need to buy gifts for people. Maybe even one for Regan. So meanwhile, I need to start writing down what I do at the gym so I can replicate it. My gym workouts go by so fast. There's something with a Bosu ball and the Roman chair thing where I work on my core. But you should see my guns! Whatever I'm doing, it's working.

The unicorn pic makes no sense, but does it really have to?

Day 254 = Resistance Bands + Work. On a Sunday. Yeah.

I could have slept A LOT more today. And let me just remind people that A LOT is two words and definitely is NOT spelled with an A. I'm just saying. Try to Google it. Google will say, "Did you mean: definitely?" Yes, boldface, underlined and italics because definately is NOT in the dictionary. Just a couple of pet peeves I'm sharing with you lovely blog readers today.

Around 11 am, I got up and turned on my laptop. Well, I had my personal laptop at one chair at my dining room table and my pretty red work laptop at another chair. I tag-teamed them today. Because I had to create an ops review in a PowerPoint for a presentation on Monday. What does that mean? Well, it means that my boss wants to know what I do and where/if I'm behind on things and what my risk mitigation plan is for that and how I'm tracking my goals and what my time-suckers are and where I can find efficiencies. In a PowerPoint. You know, instead of just asking me TO MY FACE.

This is the part of the day when I say, "Red Bull, I love you."

So my co-worker, who was also tasked with this exercise in asinine-ness, and I IM'd about this task and shared our work. Until 5 pm, when I said I needed to stop and get ready for comedy tonight. And just so ya know, I put a tiny note on the "time-sucker" slide that said this presentation took 7 hours to create (I'm counting the hour my co-worker and I carved out and put a meeting request on our calendars earlier this week to brainstorm about said ops review).

I got to the club and was standing in line when a comic friend walked up and hugged me. We were talking and I took a really long sigh breath. He was like, "Are you OK?" I said, "Yes, I'm just waiting for my Adivan to kick in because I've had a tumultuous afternoon working on an ops review for work. On a Sunday." I mean, the look on his face said he thought I was about to fall over any moment.

I've been coming to the club and telling new jokes each week. Last week was my best set ever, and since I know I should be recycling and honing jokes and I hadn't really been inspired enough this week to bring anything new to the table, I told a similar set to last week plus a couple of jokes that had worked in the past. Well, it was a tough crowd. I got some laughs but I wasn't bathed in laughter like I'd expected. Dang it. Always next week. And note to self that the tramp stamp joke seems to kill every time.

Day 253 = Running + 70s Party Hair

If you're keeping up then you should know by now that Saturday mornings for me means getting up at 6 am, sucking down some kind of digestible breakfast THAT IS NOT A FIBER BAR (trust me, it's strategic) and then meeting my running group for a run. This morning I ran 12 miles and there were two mile repeats. Mile repeats are like speed work in a way. You have to do one mile around the track (four laps) at a faster pace.

I'm onto Tacodeli now. Was so into Juanita's, but now I'm addicted to the steak and egg taco or the Jess Special taco at Tacodeli - all with egg whites. I mean, if I burn over 1500 calories during a long run (like I do each Saturday), then I can eat real eggs if I want, but I prefer the whites. If breakfast tacos were a charitable cause, I'd be all over fundraising for those things. I love them so much!!!! Yes! FOUR EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!

Then I went home and napped a little while until my haircut. That is, haircut deux for 2009. I tried a new girl today, Shannon at Salon Bloom. I love her already! Look how she did my hair. I mean, I brought in pictures, but this was a perfect 'do for the 70s party tonight. And I got to wear my mom's vintage outfit. It's probably more of an 80s look, but I tried to rock it as a late 1979 look.

This was the second haircut I've had all year. I'm pretty lazy when it comes to my hair. I don't color it, and I hardly ever get it cut. Lazy. And I don't even wash it everyday (I use baby powder and I dare you to detect it). And when I do wash my hair, half the time I use shampoo and conditioner I get on sale or at Big Lots. Yeah, I said it. Big Lots, people. Since I'm so lazy and don't really care all that much, I totally have to have a bag of tricks. My bathroom has two sections: 1 for makeup and 1 for hair. I mean look at me. I wake up and look like thirty-something anxiety-ridden Barbie, so I gotta work with what the good Lord gave me. I have all kinds of products (for straight or curly hair because I have natural curls), combs, picks, flat brushes, round brushes, 5 curling irons, a Chi flatiron, two types of hot rollers, hairdryers, hairspray, barettes, bobby pins, etc. I mean, if you're as lazy as I am about hair, then you have to have some tools to pull it off. Lazy hair is all about sleeping as late as possible.

One thing I realized tonight is I cannot ever drunk dial, drunk text or drunk Facebook ever, ever, ever, ever again. Ever. I can't wait for a New Year's Resolution. Drunk communication has got to end TODAY.

Day 252 = Home Workout + Clothes!

Tonight was just too late and too dark after work to get in a run outside. So I opted for a homemade abs workout on my core ball mixed with some resistance bands.

My friend Kristina got a GoWearFit (aka BodyBugg). I feel a movement beginning. That's three friends now who have one. Sweet thing Kristina told me I've "been lookin' skinny lately." The BodyBugg works in that it helps keep me on track. And I'm feeling skinnier this week instead of the bloatapotomus I was feeling like last week. I get so hungry when I'm hormonal and can eat and eat and eat. And then it's like I'm done and I am just not hungry at all. Or I could eat cereal for three meals a day for weeks at a time. Or I get addicted to sugar-free popcicles. Speaking of... I might have one right now.

One thing about working out every day is, eventually, the weight and the inches just start falling off. And the best part about that is re-wearing all the many clothes I haven't worn in a while. And I've noticed that working out every day has really helped with my endurance and running. I'm so stubborn. It's easy to say working out everyday and drinking more water (for that matter) really have some great side effects. And it works. But if you're stubborn like me, then you'll just have to try it out for yourself.

Another reason I didn't run tonight is I was just too stressed at work and came home and acquainted myself with Adivan and pinot grigio. Ok, so not the best combination. In fact, it's not a good combination at all. Since I'm retro-writing this blog, I'll have to admit that on Friday (Day 254) I woke up to emails and winks. From match.com. I'd forgotten that I'd signed up for online dating again. See, stubborn. Like I haven't learned my lesson in the last 7 years of off-and-on online dating. Thanks to the Adivan and wine, the next three months ought to be interesting and filled with great material for the comedy club, as well as disappointment, shattered dreams and crying in my kitchen after kicking off my shoes across the floor after another hopeless date.

And to that, a toast to new beginnings!

Day 251 = Resistance Bands + Knees

I'm just not running today because of my knee. It's my IT bands, which support the knee, so I just need to get up on my foam roller. However, I'm going to do some crunches on my ab ball and some resistance bands and will just have to live with that. Knees are important. A knee injury forced me to bail out of a marathon in 2007, and I took that pretty seriously. And there's not a lot that I take very seriously.

However, I'm about to be damn serious about this Skinny Cow Ice Cream Cone. And this glass of wine. And this Adivan. All very, very, very serious.

Oh, how I miss the daylight. Stress at work gets me down and I hate that I can't just come home and blow off steam with a run. I need to start getting in my runs in the mornings from now on.

Day 250 = Gym + Swimming + Well, Swimming

I don't mind two-a-days. I'd do them every day if I could work from home. I just like getting out of the house and being active. So I had my gym workout this morning then went swimming for 30 minutes tonight. No idea how many laps that was, so don't ask.

Usually, I come up with my comedy sets and other jokes when I'm running, but swimming does nothing for me. I get so bored. A friend told me that it's more fun to swim with friends, but I can't really put my head around that concept. I mean, do you swim and talk at the same time? Or are you just shooting the shit at the end of the pool? And how can you guarantee that you're swimming with people are are FUN to swim with?

Thank goodness it's just for 30 minutes tonight.

I used to swim with my dad almost daily, and I wonder what Michael Phelps sees in this? He must have the FUN swimmer friends. I was in Key West with Paul last year watching the Olympics from a bar that had naked women on the velvet wallpaper. So that is where I happened to be when Phelps earned that 8th medal from the relay. Ah, now that was a fun trip.

Day 249 = Running + Trapeze

I ran 4 miles tonight. It felt great, and I ran into the Rogue Runners who gave me free water. I'd just like to say, in case I haven't, that runners are generally happy people. I mean, if you work out everyday, let alone run mostly everyday, then you can't help but be happy because exercise naturally releases those wonderful endorphins and reduces the stress hormone cortisol, and I'm always more de-stressed and laid back after a workout. It boosts the immune system and increases oxygen to the brain (maybe why a workout clears my mind and generates ideas?). Exercise helps prevent chronic conditions like heart disease. Everyone knows this, but until you experience it on a consistent basis, you really don't get the full effect of BELIEF.

OK, I'm not really a doctor, but I am a believer that working out keeps me balanced and happy. Runners wave to each other and sometimes can tell where you are in your run just by looking at your face. Runners help you and say hello and good morning when they pass by. Thank you, runners!

Another great core workout I'd forgotten about is a trapeze lesson. I had the opportunity to take one in April 2008 with my friend Amy S. for her birthday. We took the class at The Crossings, but there's now a full time class offered in Austin at Trapeze Experience. I think I'm going to give it a go, or a swing, again. Now that I'm not sick anymore, my mojo is in full effect and I can proclaim with confidence, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!"

Day 248 = Gym + European Memories

Yes - another personal training session at the gym. You're probably tired of hearing about it, but suck it up because I'm about finished with my sessions, and you will get to hear about new workouts then (probably at the gym).

I'm not really sure what to blog about today, so I thought I'd copy and paste an email I wrote when I was backpacking through Europe. Enjoy.

-------------------------------------

From: Heather

Sent: Saturday, August 17, 2002 8:45 AM
To: Mom and Richard
Subject: Stuff from Heather

We are in Inverness, Scotland today, Aug. 17. It's about 2:37 p.m. and we are at the library and waiting for the bus to take us to Loch Ness. We are going to find the monster! We are probably going to tour Inverness either later today and tomorrow before we leave. We are going to Orkney tomorrow and then to the Isle of Skye and Oban/Iona and then back to Edinburgh, where we wanted to stay last night but there were NO rooms anywhere there. And Glasgow and St. Andrews was also sold out. I'd like to also tour a whiskey distillery.

After that, we are going back to Devizes on Friday and Roger and Jan are going to drive us to the Isle of Wight to see Scott for the weekend. On our way home, we are going by Stonehenge and maybe Salisbury. The rest of next week, we are going to Liverpool, Stratford on Avon and Cornwall or Wales. That all depends on if we stop at any of those places on our way back from Edinburgh. Scotland is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS. And I hate to say it (don't tell Richard) but I would rather come back to Scotland than England if I had a choice. I just love it here.

I have been journaling a lot and I think I will probably end up having to buy another journal before I leave here! I am running out of pages! I guess that's what happens when you try to find yourself. I've made a lot of observations and I've lost about 5-7 pounds I would say. I still have a fat gut, but the scale says otherwise.

Well, internet time is short, so I will talk to you later. I love you all, and give Ringo a big hug from mommy!

Heather

Day 247 = Walking + Bloatasaurus

I feel like a bloatasaurus. When I Googled a pic for this blog for bloat, the image results were hideous and disturbing. Umm, this one will do.

I got in a walk early this morning. Not sure why I can go to bed at 4 am but still wake up before 9 am. It's not fair. I'm hoping a nap will come my way this afternoon.

I walked to the Mexican restaurant in my neighborhood, had breakfast then did some more walking and went home. I showered, and got back in PJs and it's not even noon.

I have not been eating right for the past week. It's been just crazy bad. I'd think I'd lose weight when I am sick, but I don't think I did. It's all hormonal. Tomorrow is measurements day at the gym, so I'm going to try to avoid that if at all possible.

Tonight at the comedy club, I had my best set ever and hardly anyone saw it! I was on toward the end of the lineup, and every comic I had befriended had either gone home or not even shown up. It was a rainy night, and it turns out that comics don't like to venture out in rain. Evidently, not everyone has a personal goal they're trying to fulfill by doing stand-up every Sunday for the rest of the year. But my friends Ashley and Jeff did come out to show their support. Very sweet of them. And my black blazer did it's best to cover my bloatasaurus belly.

Day 246 = Running + Crafts

I am pretty amazed. After being sick and not running in a week, I pulled out 14 miles today. And I felt good. I could have gone the full 15, but I somehow got off course and missed a mile. Not sure how that happened. It felt like 15 miles. I ran from Town Lake to Far West and back.

I like to use my workout time, when I'm alone running or walking, to come up with my comedy sets. I'd meant to bring my digital voice recorder along on my run today so I could record my thoughts on my set, but I forgot. Need to remember to execute on this brilliant idea next week. For now, I have to resort to jotting down my notes while waiting for Juanita to make my taco.

Tonight I was a double threat with my magic jeans and FMPs. Or so I thought. My friend Hope had a wine glass painting party. I'm ridiculously uncrafty when it comes to stuff like this. I can look at art and describe it and tell you what I like and I can tell a Raphael from a Da Vinci from a Botticelli or if it's a Rembrandt or Michaelangelo or Picasso or Van Gogh or a Monet vs. a Manet. But actually creating something artful, like a wine glass? Well, I suck. SEE????

The party served as way to celebrate my friend Shelli's birthday, and then we headed to Deep Eddy Cabaret. Don't let the name fool you. It's a dive bar. No cabaret action happening. And not the scene for my magic jeans and FMPs. But after a while, we got bored and went to Shelli's house to play her favorite game, Apples to Apples. I gotta tell ya, I love that game, too.

Day 245 = Walking + Vienna

Third day off from work, and I was compelled to get out of the house. Normally I hate being sick, but my mentality about work has really been rejuventated, and I plan on going back with new ideas to meet my goals. So having strep throat also served as just taking personal days. I'm still on my Z-pack and not 100%, but at least not contagious. So I'll venture out to my friend Katherine's baby shower tonight. It's a co-ed thing, like a cocktail party, and Katherine is so cute. She's so tiny but all belly. There's a little girl in that belly, and we all can't wait to meet her.

My 15-mile run is looming tomorrow. I'd planned to really focus on my runs and workouts this week, but being knocked on my ass with strep throat prevented that. I'm very curious about how I'll perform tomorrow. I might just run 11 miles. I'm sure I have that in me. On my walk this afternoon, I felt my mojo coming back. Things are starting to turn around, and my positive outlook is starting to poke out again. As evidenced from recent blog entries, I sink into a negative world when I'm sick, and I'm totally aware of this. I hate being in that place. See that is why I hate feeling sick and helpless and negative.

But a song came through on my iPod that I forgot I had in my playlist today. It was "Vienna" by Billy Joel. I've never really listened to the words, but they had profound meaning to me today. Because I do have lots of ambition and feel trapped in the world I've created to accomplish my goals. It's a paradox. But the song basically says "chill out. you got this."

Vienna waits for you is a metaphor for life. Life is just life. Slow down. I may be ambitious, but that ambitioun won't make things go my way. I have to let go and let God.

-----------------------------------

"Vienna" - By Billy Joel

Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
Are you still so afraid?

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)

Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right (you're right)

You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you

Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you.

And you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through

Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

Day 244 = Walking + Why I'm Not Normal

Still sick. Still home from work. Throat hurts, especially when I yawn. But today I had to get up out this house! I went for a 40-minute walk.

Well, first I opened a bill from Seton Hospital. Seven stitches in the eyebrow is all fun and games until you get the bill for $1248. Hormonal, strep-throat-sick tears in the kitchen ensued. It was pretty horrific. Then I went for my walk.

Normally, working out makes everything all warm and fuzzy again. So I walked. And walked. And waited for the warm and fuzzies to overcome me. I tried to remember that I am very blessed, and this bill is not as bad as it could be. I tried to listen to a fun song, but I just walked around my neighborhood with a scowl on my face. And thought about other shit happening in my life. Errrgggghh.

I get so out of whack when I'm sick. I get out of my routine. I hate getting out of my routine. I'd like to think that I'm flexible and spontaneous, but I think I've been conditioned differently. To the outside world, I have my shit together. But really, I just have my routine because (here comes the A-HA moment) I crave control. It makes me feel safe to be able to "control" things in this plane of my universe. Yes, I put quotes around the word control on purpose. Please, if you will, allow me to live with this false sense of security because I obviously can't afford a therapist, let alone 7 stitches.

OK, so here we go.

I hate to admit that I crave control. I hate it, I tell you. I don't want to be that controlling bitch, but I guess I probably am. I've been trying that mantra "let go and let God" but let's just say it's slow going.

While having a job (albeit in a cube) and having a house to come home to is all "grown up" and signs of having one's shit tightly in tact, it is really just a trap. An evil trap that provides the ultimate false sense of security. And then you wake up one day with strep throat and get all out of the routine and take a look around and are like, "What the fuck is all this for? I don't need 6 dining chairs."

[Earmuffs, Mom]

I can pinpoint the turning point in my life when things got out of control and I had to be the resilient kid and just go with it. Obviously, it was my parents' divorce. I moved around a lot when I was a kid and lived in different houses and went to different schools and made different friends. I even lived in England and had to re-make friends there. Then I came back to the States and had to re-make friends again - twice. I had no choice but to bounce back. It probably did make me stronger, but this is why I do not have kids. Then my dad died, and not to sound belittling or anything, but that was a devastating upturn in my life, which also made me like superhero strong woman. But I get tired of being strong and getting up and doing that everyday. Why can't I just make soup and sandwiches for homeless people on Mondays and then maybe, like, run around Town Lake and nap on Tuesdays?

Now that I'm aware of the by-products of my upbringing (and I've only lightly skimmed the surface of that here), that is the first step. I don't remember being an anxious kid before my parents divorced. But now, I live a life with anxiety because I don't know what's going to happen next. That's scary to me. So my routine keeps me grounded and feeling safe, like I can control something, but "feeling safe" is not all it's cracked up to be. In fact, it sucks. Maslow's hierarchy of needs can kiss my ass.

My craving for safety probably explains my no relationship policy. Well, it's not really a policy, it's more like a reality. Not only do men probably smell eau de controlling bitch a mile away, but it will take a very special man to get me to let down my guard and change my routine to be available for him, and so far I haven't met that guy. I mean, I get all Rainmanny 6 o'clock Wapner about my routine. Plus, I don't want to get hurt and disappointment and drama have run their course. Life is too short for that shit.

So I've devised this plan. Take this blog worldwide and get out of the cube job and sell the house and branch out and take a not-so-safe risk. For this, I need a new blog name, but no one suggested any winners in the contest. So I've been brainstorming and researching blog names the last two days while I've been at home. I have almost 60 names identified. I'm really taking this seriously. Did you know babyfishmouth.com is taken?