More Important Things

It just seems so silly to write about running, miles and marathons when people are trying to burst through their roofs and hope to flag a rescue helicopter to escape a flooded deathtrap in New Orleans.

Sister-in-law remains in the Big Easy, relatively trapped in the hospital where she works. Although they are evacuating, the progress moves slowly. Chances are that she won't be able to evacuate until this weekend. As far as their personal possessions, photo albums, childrens' toys, material memories, basic daily necessities and the like, they have in all likelihood lost everything, as they reside on the east side of New Orleans. Sister-in-law's husband has already scheduled interviews here in Georgia; he is also updating his wife's resume. I think we will all just feel a sense of relief once she's out of the foresaken place.

The main question now is what will become of this major American city dessimated by the hand of nature? One has to question whether it would be prudent to rebuild a city sitting that probably should not exist in such a volatile geographical position. The city is sinking -- sinking, now stinking of the refuse and decay and littered with the trash, both human and otherwise. People now resort to their most base form as criminal activity increases - Lord of the Flies with an ugly metropolitan twist.

Mother Nature

The good 18-miler I had this morning seems pretty unimportant right now.

I'm something of a weather buff. With the advent of the latest hurricane, Katrina, I've been monitoring the Weather Channel and internet weather sources like a hawk. A few days ago, I just selfishly worried this storm would head to Georgia and threaten to flood our house as a previous hurricane nearly did. However, now I'm more concerned about the folks who could not or were not able to evacuate New Orleans. Unfortunately, my sister-in-law is one of those individuals. The hospital which employees her demands her services at this time. Now, a mother in Georgia is tearfully worried about the safety of her daughter. Meanwhile, sister-in-law's husband and their two daughters were able to evacuate and seek refuge in a more amenable location. My tendency towards worrying has now reached fruition as the supposed "worst possible scenario" for New Orleans, a category 5 hurricane, is about to play out. We feel that sister-in-law will be safe in the hospital. It will be a long night tonight as we wait for the ultimate climax of this weather drama to play out tomorrow morning.

I personally credit Fox News for worrying my mother-in-law into a tearful frenzy of concern. Does the media now tend to work folks into an innecessary fervor strictly for ratings? Will this storm be as big as they predict?

Confessions of a Crap Addict

I will freely admit that I am a crap addict. By crap I mean candy bars, NECCO wafers, Oreos, Swiss Cake Rolls, Fudge Rounds, ice cream and their kin. Reflecting, I've had something of this ilk at least twice a day for as long as I can remember. My body is finally starting to rebel by pocketing bits of these goodies in unfavorable places. I've probably gained about ten pounds since my Knoxville training days. I keep thinking that my running balances everything out. The bottom line is, it doesn't. I need to eat more responsibly. Through an examination of my daily meals, I realized a tremendous void in the fruit and vegetable department. Some days I consumed nothing at all from these two groups. So, I'm now on day two of no crap. Yesterday I successfully navigated through my routine avoiding the vending machines and sidestepping the inviting container of Oreo cookies on the kitchen counter. I even managed to steer clear of eating a frozen meal for lunch as I opted for a nice hummus/lettuce/pita deal and some cottage cheese. Husband did an excellent job grocery shopping solo this week; the fruits of his shopping labors were just that, good fruits and veggies for snacks. I'm not sure how long I can live without crap. Husband and I gave up meat for months at a time, so surely crap will be easier to give up than meat. Only time will tell.

Split Selves

I decided to take day off from work today to do nothing in particular. It's wonderful. Today's a rest day, so no running either. I thought that I could just sleep late and get up whenever I wanted. It turns out I couldn't sleep much past 8:00 a.m. Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to a lazy day which will be capped off by sitting in swanky boxed seats, cavorting with law firm people and eating burgers (all free of charge) at a pre-season NFL football game.

Running life has been going so-so. Last Sunday I was supposed to have a long run of 17 miles. However, I came up short of my intended mileage by probably over a half mile or so. My anal retentive self was left incredibly disappointed at falling short of my goal. My rational self says that I was probably a bit dehydrated and I was smart to stop when I did.

This week has been a welcome "recovery week" of decreased mileage (just 37 with a long run of 12). I think it's strange that I now look forward to "just" 12 miles.

While I've got the goal of the November marathon in my sights, I keep wrestling with what is beyond. A large part of me says that I should just run for fun for a while without schedules or a plan. Another part of me keeps checking marathonguide.com for races next spring. Tampa in late February appeals to me because a Florida race might be relatively flat. I also saw that there's a race in May in Moab, Utah which would be absolutely cool. I love the southwest. To have an opportunity to race around the scenic arches and desert landscapes would be magnificent.

Work life has reached another lull in the action. Our office became swiftly amused by an internet "personality" quiz at: http://similarminds.com/othertests.html. First we focused on the "What Classic Movie Are You?" portion. I tried the test twice (a shorter and the longest versions) and came up with Apocalypse Now both times (I'm a loner, what can I say). Later I tried the "leader" portion; I'm Einstein.

...And I Did It My Way

It has become extraordinarily evident of late how much of a rigid stubborn freak I am. Husband has thankfully finished the bar exam and will hopefully begin working later this month. Now we experience yet another waiting period (until October) for the results. With the rigors of law school and the bar now past, husband is tasked with finding ways to occupy his time. He's been able to do some "pleasure reading" of outlandish Dan Brown novels and to play some video games that have been collecting dust until recently. He's also been able to accompany me on my weekly excursions to the grocery store. The past two treks to the store reveal to me how much I savor a routine of perusing the aisles in an exacting order, how much I like to drive the cart and how much I enjoy doing things "my way." However, realizing that no woman's an island, I try to work collaboratively on shopping trips. Husband drives the cart because he too relishes the joy of pushing food around and avoiding slow old people and large women who spend hours gazing at the spices. He tries to work with my system while I consciously try to let go of "my way" and be more flexible. This change to a shopping routine applies to all facets of my life. It takes conscious effort and strength to waver from my system.

I have "my way" when it comes to running as well. I keep my schedule posted to the refrigerator. Each day I look forward to checking off a workout accomplished and tracking which shoes I wore that day. I adhere to the schedule as if my life depended upon it. I make sure that my Forerunner indicates I've done the prescribed mileage for the day. My anal retention has become increasingly difficult given that I'm training for the same marathon as my running buddy. Her approach is a bit more flexed than mine. She doesn't worry about doing her long runs at the "right pace." I cringed when she told me her time for a 13-miler; the pace would be about what we're hoping to run for the course of the marathon. This method doesn't seem like the right way based upon the reading that I've done. But I'm no expert. I can't coach her otherwise. She's a stronger runner than I am. She may not be running "my way." I'm learning that "my way" isn't the best way for everyone, no matter how much I've read or run.

Each day is an opportunity for personal improvement. Each day is a step towards learning how to work better with others. Each day I strive to be that twig in the river, floating effortlessly, despite the fact that many times I seem to be stuck between rocks in the riverbed being mercilessly beaten by the current.