I'm pretty in love with Wisconsin these days

Wisconsin gets a bad rap. It's the butt of many a joke: you know cheese and beer jokes. And cow jokes. As a Bears fan, I've made my fair share of Cheesehead jokes.

In the past 6 weeks I've been lucky enough to spend time in Wisconsin though, and I'm singing a very different tune.

Wisconsin is gorgeous!

I'd quasi spent a week in Madison several years ago for work, but I was shooting a video in an elementary school by day (and night) and didn't really look around. It was January, everything was frozen solid, it seemed dark 24/7 and the old hotel we stayed in was right out of the 1950's. I kept looking around for the Rat Pack to emerge and ask me for a smoke. That was my impression of Wisconsin: cold, dark, snowy with lots of wood paneling.

Not so!

We spent a few days in Madison in September. Think perfect weather this time. I adore Madison. It's cute and modern and clean and cheap. I was impressed and thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of our trip -- IM MOO is definitely on my radar for some day.

This weekend we spent more time in Wisconsin outside of Madison on the Ice Age trail cheering for a friend running 50 miles. Ohmigod I loved it! I was dying to jump the fence and go run through the woods. The fall tree colors were stunning. I like the curvy, hilly roads and can imagine riding up there. People are polite and genuinely interested in a conversation. Everything is connected, yet disconnected. I imagine that the rat race isn't quite so daunting up there.

I could totally live in Wisconsin. :-)

When I did Steelhead in 2008, I was racked next to a woman who'd lived the same lifestyle we do just outside Chicago -- the endless work, the 4 hour daily commute, blah, blah, blah. But she was telling us how she moved to Wisconsin and was beyond happy. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to move to Wisconsin.

I get it now.

In running news, I eeked out 21.5 miles last week! W00t! It's not pretty. I'm going really slow and being uber conservative, but that's literally the most miles I've run since the IM last November. I'm stoked!

It's a wonderful thing

It was bound to happen sooner or later. One of these days I was destined to feel great and smack out a full week of training. I mean it’s been 11 months. Geesh.

Seriously, I’m over the moon happy about feeling great and jumping back into the swing of things.

For the first time since (whispering) 2006 I’m running 5 days a week. Sweet!

I’ve been a runner since day one. I know all little kids run around a lot, but I have memories of plotting a course with my twin brother, Don, who loved to run long as much as I did. I don’t know the distance of our route – looking back it couldn’t have been more than a mile or two, but we thought it was such a long way. We’d run on a path down the tracks to our fort, cross a river and enter the cornfields, where we’d run across several huge fields to a fence – and then back – as fast as we could. We were probably 9, maybe.

My love affair with running continued through high school. By this time we lived in Arizona, a long way from those cornfields. Like many moody teens I needed an outlet to get rid of my general malaise and angst, and regularly ran through the desert behind our house. 3-5 miles at a jaunt was the norm. Again, not super long, but not too bad for a 15-year old in 113 degree temps.

In college I became a running fool. When most kids were drinking or sleeping, I was running. I ran a 6-mile course every morning in the darkness before sunrise – mainly to avoid people, but also because I loved to watch the sun come up over my mountain campus. I was always alone and would listen to my feet on the pavement, watch my frosty breath and enjoy the stillness of a college campus. I’d also run after classes too, 6-10 miles. I usually ran this in the dome (it snowed a lot), until I moved in with Rog – then I ran in the forest behind our house.

Rog used to joke that I should just live in the woods. On my days off from work and school I would spend hours in the forest, running and mountain biking. He always asked me if I was afraid in the woods and my answer was always, “not of animals, just people”. And that’s still true to this day.

The point of all of this is I have a life-long love affair with running going on. I daydream when I run. That little voice in my head is quiet. Totally quiet. In fact, I can’t even remember what I’m worried about 99.9% of the time when I’m running. I get lost in my head, and it’s a wonderful thing.
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I wrote this post a few days ago but haven't had time to post it until today. It leads into my next rant below. I was so happy when I wrote the above post because I've reclaimed the joy I get from running. And I want everyone in the world to have the same peace and joy I do when I run.

That's one of the reasons I get so upset sometimes about elitist pricks.

I'm not fast. I will never be fast, but I love it and I get something from it that I can't find anywhere else.

Athena and the Penguin pointed me to this article today. If you can't get in w/o a log on, the gist is that "plodders" - those who finish marathons in 6, 7, 8 hours shouldn't be marathoners.

Uhm, why exactly?

I despise people who tell me (or others) I can't do something because I don't fit their ideal of who should be "allowed". You know what? They can suck it.

Anyone and I mean anyone who tries to do anything -- from a sprint tri to an ultra marathon to an Ironman to hopping down a canyon wall on a unicycle -- can do it, or try their hardest, and who are these elitist assholes to tell them otherwise?

How does my attempt at a marathon or an Ironman or an ultra in any way, shape or form impact them one iota? It doesn't.

In fact, I'm betting that the money I/we/you plunk down for gels, nutrition, shoes, shorts, bikes, Speedos, coaching, HR monitors, on, and on and on makes it possible for the elites to make a living and for the alarmingly obese masses to get out of their god damned Lazy Boys, shut off the TV and have some real fun. After all, it's not so intimidating once people see other people who look like them do something great -- and have fun doing it. Shouldn't that be cause for celebration and motivation, not reason to ridicule and stomp on each other?

Now if you excuse me, I have to go for a run. At my 12:00 per mile pace. I'll feel great when I'm done and the elitist assholes can try to untwist their panties.

Little things that I think about

Any regular or semi-regular reader of my blog knows that in addition to loving my diggities (dogs), my Moose (hubby), my bikes (Dory and Crow), I also enjoy a nice cold brew.

I didn't always love beer, it's something I developed one summer sitting at Murphy's in Chicago - a baseball's toss from Wrigley -- with one of the best friends I've ever had. We'd eat cheeseburgers and drink beer and it's been love ever since.

I'm really into Belgium brewskis, but they have a lot of calories, at least a lot more than my lite standby, Coors Light. If I have any prayer of seeing 130 again, Coors Light it is!

I'm really amused by their latest "gimmick"-- the blue mountains on the bottle. Really? Do Americans really need a cartoon mountain that turns blue when the bottle reaches that magical degree of coldness?

I'm going old school. I'm a rebel. A revolutionary if you will. I'm gonna do what my parents did and their parents before them. I'm gonna feel the bottle and determine with my keen beer skills whether the bottle is cold enough or not.

For reals.

Just watch.

I'm also amused by the Junior Mints box. It has a tab to close ala cereal box tab. Apparently the Junior Mints people vastly underestimate my ability to eat the entire box. It has like 8 little mints in it, so I wonder -- just who isn't eating the entire box? Some Trixie? Oh I just ate two mints and I'm bursting, bursting I say!

(I realize eating Junior Mints also won't get me down to 130, but they're kind of like lite chocolate goodness. For example, the entire box is 170 calories/3g of fat vs. a candy bar which is usually 12-15g fat and 250 calories).

I have a lot of new goals for next year, a mix of old and new, that I will write about soon. I've had so many shitty things happen this past year that I'm just enjoying feeling good and being healthy. But don't be fooled - my list is formed and I'm ready!

Ask yourself: why or why not?

I know, I know. I've been a total absentee blogger of late. I have no excuses; I simply haven't felt like blogging. I'm spending time with my other time-killing mistress, Facebook.

I'm all good, though!

To my surprise the doc did fish around my intestines and did come out saying, "yer all good to go, get training."

Uh yeah, so the drum I've been beating for months turned out to be the drum of truth and not the musings of insanity. I'm totally healthy now and all of my issues stemmed from modern medicine. For reals.

And that's all I'm sayin' 'bout that. As my favorite TV Judge Marilyn Milian would say, "put a fork in me, I'm done!" (Don't pretend ya'll don't have favorite TV judges too.)

So, back to the "all good" part.

Yay! I feel normal again for the first time in about a year. I've jumped back in like a starved maniac. My gym bag is permanently packed. I know the schedules at 3 gyms. You can find me running, spinning, yogaing and thinking about maybe digging out my swim stuff. My car once again smells like a locker room. I have water bottles strewn about. Protein powder never goes in the cupboard. My laundry pile o' sports gear rivals my work clothes once again.

Life is SO good!

One of my Life Inspiring Forces was talking the other day, and she asked me to think about what stops me from doing things sometimes. OK, keep in mind I am a total, chronic and complete worrier. I have been since day one, and although I work hard to be chill and appear calm, the truth is I'm always thinking a million things and I worry. Like, a lot.

Why don't you do (fill in the blank)? If the answer is fear, as in you don't do something because you're afraid, that's not a valid reason.

Don't ask yourself why, ask yourself why not? Do it and see how liberating it is!

Sounds easy enough. Right? It's something I will have to work on. :-) I'll let you know how that goes. Within a month I'll probably be on a cruise, living in Arizona, pleasantly unemployed, owner of at least a P2C if not a P3C (or two), with Marigold the kitty from the pound I love and adore purring in my lap, and a trip to St. Croix planned for several weeks of non-stop diving.

A fly-by of no importance

I'm sitting here with Meet the Press on while the DirecTV dude upgrades our dish for HD. It's part of my birthday present from last month. This is my life these days.

For the past 5 summers, any long weekend was the opportunity to ride for as many miles as our little legs could handle, and it wasn't uncommon for us to put in 200 miles during a 4-day weekend along with 15-20 miles of running. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love to ride my bike?)

Well, not this year. Moose is out now, limping through a 90-minute ride, a sorry shadow of his former self. (He's taken to the couch with me in a showing of solidarity and, to be honest, I think he's just a little bit pooped.)

Meanwhile, I'm upgrading our TV before the NFL season officially starts, surrounded by a mound of books. I love to read, I just don't do it very often when I'm training. I also enjoy a good TV show and who doesn't love da Bears? Now we can armchair quarterback in 1080i! It's the equivalent of a Cervelo P3C!

Such is the balance of life.

And to continue the yin and yang, I've laid my plans for the 2010 racing season. Or as much as can be schemed from the sidelines, the comfort of my couch. I haven't actually hit the "ok" button on any credit card transactions (I'm not a complete idiot), but the list is built and ready to unveil.

My colonoscopy was moved to the 24th because of work. So two more weeks of my unstable stomach. Not that I expect on the 24th for the doc to say, "wow, everything looks great in here, go train!". But at least to have some sense of my situation from a medical perspective rather than my layman's observations that are based on how much toilet paper I'm going through. (Rolls and rolls if anyone is curious).

And if I know exactly what it is I'm battling, I can figure out how to battle it. (I'm doubtful I have diverticulitis, I think it's more along the lines of colitis or Crohn's, of which every one on my cousins has on my maternal side of the family).

It's been a chilly and wet summer here. Yes, I've noticed despite not really being out in it. It's almost fall now. There are little signs that it's just around the corner -- it's darker longer in the morning and the evening sun doesn't burn quite so long. Several times I've caught the distinct aroma of a fire burning.

Typically I'd be moaning and whining that summer was over, but this year I'm ready for the cold and the dark, for it is in the cold and the dark that I will be rebuilding my body and preparing for next year. Next year when spring bursts onto the scene, I will be there, with my bike, ready to roll.