Heartbeats

Well finally I have someone to sing the chorus of Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know" about loudly in the shower.

Always thinking positively.

Last night I went for a run along the Westside Highway. I knew I was going to have to work late so this was a good way to get my workout in and easily return to my desk to follow up on some phone calls.

I just started using PicMonkey so get excited for obnoxious color filters and weird ass crap being added onto my photos. 

So my run kind of sucked. The beautiful weather had become overcast and a little chilly by the time I walked away from my desk phone (which never stops ringing by the way!). My shoulder started acting up after a mile. Last week I woke up and the thing was smarting like nobody's business. I think I sleep on my left shoulder funny when I stay at my parents' house because it felt even worse after spending this past weekend there. I also felt weak. I just haven't been hungry for anything recently. I wish people dumped me more often...

I ran about 6 miles give or take my Garmin issues. I can never decide between waiting for the satellites to load and just getting started with my run. Damn you NYC buildings!

Now that I'm single and trying to stay that way, I've been doing some self-reflection. I've concluded that I am awesome and everyone else has a problem. Obvi. I like to do my thinking while pounding the pavement and find that semi-depressing/semi-angry songs with a great beat help my thought processes. Last night I got into "Heartbeats" by The Knife. Perfect for planning out how the idiot who ditched you is going to run into you outside the office one day and be devastated to see how great you're doing without him... Not that I do that or anything.

This Should Happen to No One

This morning I woke up and found the following things in my apartment:

Pre-cut carrots and celery still in the package by my door

Vanilla frosting in the fridge.
I knew to look because I found  frosting shmears on the fridge door... and my forehead.

Empty package of seaweed snacks in the bathroom.
There are seaweed snack flakes ALL over my freaking apartment.

Let's back track.

Yesterday I left work and made plans to run with Favorite Work Friend. FWF decided she didn't want to run so we compromised - I went to the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir for a quick run and then FWF met me for a post-run walk. I ran 2.75 miles, stretched, and did some squats. Then we did a brisk walk around the reservoir and walked home. Grand total was 5.50 miles.

Do you think people think I'm weird taking photos of myself doing weird shit?

FWF and I met at the South Gate House. Now I can stop referring to it
as the stone building thing near 84th Street.

Today is FWF's birthday so we went out for a drink last night after our walk. A drink always turns into 17 at Trinity Pub. I should know by now that nothing good happens after I kill 6 glasses of wine and switch to Dewars. It was trivia night and for the first time in years the art history classes I took in college came in handy.

This says 5.50 miles although you can't read it. Proof of Day 1 redux

I actually woke up at a reasonable hour but I decided not to leave for work until 9:15. Yesterday I brought my monitor home from work and now I have the sweetest home office ever! I can finally leave work at a normal time, hit the gym, eat dinner, and then finish up projects at home. Oh hello extended desktop. You know I love you.

The best home office ever.

I also found this text on my phone.

The recipient was thankfully not the guy who recently dumped me.

Hungry People are Mean, Happy People are Fat 3

My future self-help/weight-loss/lifestyle book is going to be a hit. I haven't had an appetite all day.

Ribbon Dancing

Today I threw back the covers and went to Zumba. It was exactly what I needed - a chance to shake and jump and punch and pretend to be a badass motherfucker who will fuck you up in between some sweet merengue moves. And to top it all off we got scarves to run around with like ribbon dancers. The Ribbon Dancer was one of my all time favorite toys up there with the Skip-It.

I got dumped on Friday. Kind of out of the blue. Now that I've dissected every conversation we ever had, I think there were some very tell-tale signs. But I was blindsided on Friday when I was getting ready to meet him for drinks. Such is life.

I figure that since I tell you about spitting up on myself in spinning class and suddenly being overwhelmed by the need to use the bathroom mid-run, that y'all should get the privilege of knowing that my love life is a cross between a Judy Blume young adult novel and an episode of Jerry Springer.

So I'm on my second failed relationship for the month of May. What have I learned from this experience? (The answer is probably nothing but let's at least pretend I learn from my mistakes and that I'm not doomed to repeat history like the Germans.)

It's time for me to be single. I've got to let go of the hurt I've been carrying around since I was 15. In many ways, I am still 15. This isn't going to happen if I just keep moving from one relationship to a pseudo relationship to a hook up buddy to another relationship over and over.

When someone tells you he doesn't believe in the Second Amendment and has an Obama campaign poster in his bedroom, you should quietly remove yourself and not come back.

Rushing into things may seem romantic, but it creates an artificial attachment. How can you really know someone and have feelings for them in a matter of weeks?

Never build a common bond on your favorite things. Now Arrested Development, a shot of Dewars with a side of Bud Heavy, One Direction, Frankie Valli, Sheep's Meadow, and hazelnut coffee all carry feelings of sadness. These are things that usually make me feel happy.

The last guy (before this one) has temporarily ruined the Museum of Natural History, Guinness and a shot of Jameson, Teddy Roosevelt, Shake Shack, and the sociologist Erving Goffman. Never share a favorite president and a favorite sociologist. You're asking for heartache.

So I took 3 days off from this running challenge. Whatever. I'll figure out a way to redeem myself. On Friday I was hungover and then spent the rest of the evening crying. Had I known that I would be dumped in a few hours, I would've ran earlier and saved Young and the Restless for the night I spent in bed.

Ciao Bella Key Lime gelato

Yesterday my mom came and picked me up. I sat on the couch in a swoutfit and felt sorry for myself/watched an Awkward marathon and cracked up a lot. Season 2 starts June 28. Can't wait.

Sweat shorts are the best invention ever.

Today I had one of my best effed up ideas of all time. In order to better understand why I am the way I am, I invite anyone I've hooked up with in the past 10 years to go for a run with me and share some feedback. You can tell me how I fucked up, acted nuts, and/or blatantly disregarded your feelings. You can also tell me I am incredibly awesome and highlight my finer qualities. All I ask is that you let me summarize your feedback on this blog. I promise to protect your anonymity and you can even choose your own nickname. In exchange for your time, I'll buy you a post-run beer. Email me if you're interested.

After going to the beach with my dad, we hit up Fairway.
I found the Magic Pop station. The fresh ground honey roasted peanut butter is delicious.

I will leave you with a parting question- Can I steal this last guy's favorite guacamole and margarita restaurant? He doesn't live in that neighborhood anymore and he was probably breaking all sorts of relationship codes by bringing me somewhere he used to go with his ex (anyone else watch The Secret Life of the American Teenager?). I think that a strong margarita is a great consolation prize.

#RWRunStreak Summer 2012

Runner's World Summer Running Streak 2012 is a challenge to run at least one mile every day between Memorial Day (Monday, May 28) and Independence Day (Wednesday, July 4). Obviously I see a challenge on the internet and I can't say no. Thirty-eight days of running? No sweat. Well, actually a lot of sweat. It's freaking hot out there. But I am confident that I will be able to do this because I don't accept failure.

On Monday I dragged my hungover ass out of Alyssa's bed and set out to run this loop in beautiful New Rochelle. My phone was dead from drunk dialing the night before and I was forced to run without music. I usually don't care about running with music, but when I am struggling to even put shoes on, I find music essential. So there I am, running along Webster Avenue, hoping for death, and trying to run in a straight line. I remember forgoing the too salty crab cakes in favor of three more Bloody Mary's at dinner the night before. We ate before 4, so yes, it was still appropriate to drink Bloody Mary's.

I couldn't complete the whole loop so I turned early and managed 2.51 miles. I think I hallucinated a lake and someone was smoking marijuana in the children's park on North in case anyone wants to look into this corrupt behavior.

Proof of Day 1

On Tuesday I had plans to go to the gym for yoga. However, I was somehow convinced to see a musical (yes, a musical), so I had to switch up my plans. Fortunately my go-to Equinox is 50th and Broadway, conveniently located near the theaters where musicals are performed. I did 20 minutes on the crossramp, 15 minutes of lifting, and I ran a mile on the treadmill. I ran in my K-Swiss micro tubes. They're fine for running a short distance on a treadmill but I wouldn't run outside in them. They're crosstraining shoes and they pinched my toe after a while. Oh yeah, in case you were wondering, we saw Jersey Boys, which was actually pretty good. I love Frankie Valli and I listen to doo-wop regularly. I just ignored the plot and the fact that grown men were dancing on an oddly tiny stage.

Proof of Day 2
I don't think it took me 15 minutes to run this.
I think the 15 is actually the pace I used to cool down for 1/10 of a mile.

Yesterday I had to leave work early at the time normal people leave to pick up my race packet for the NYRR American Heart Association Wall Street Run. I realized I wouldn't be able to go to a gym class, shower, get my hair cut, and make it to dinner with this guy I'm seeing. Instead I rushed home from NYRR and ran 5 miles along the East River Esplanade.

One of my super cool action shots.

I had planned on making my run closer to 3 miles because I needed to get over to Supercuts. Yes, I cheated on my hairdresser Jorge, but I just couldn't take my hair any longer. It kept getting stuck to my back when I ran and I looked like I was attacked my a weed whacker in the morning.

Goodbye hair.

The last mile of the run was kind of killer. I didn't want to bust through it because I have this 3 mile race tonight, but I also didn't want to run 10 minute miles either. I averaged 8.27 minute miles.

Proof of Day 3

Beach Yoga

Memorial Day Weekend beach yoga.

Hindsight is 20/20 But I've Got 20/15

Well hindsight's 20/20. Part of me wants to say I should've known that rushing into a relationship and reliving the glory days of a college I don't think I really miss was a bad idea. I would also like to say that I have learned my lesson, but that would be a lie. As my mother told my father at family dinner on Saturday, "Allie's on her fourth boyfriend since Christmas." The woman uses the term boyfriend loosely...

What can I say? I work fast.

Speaking of fast...

Not having to worry about contacts at the gym has reduced my prep time considerably. Now I can walk out of my office, hop on the train up to 50th, and be changed for my workout in under 18 minutes. No joke, I timed myself. If you're toying with the idea of getting LASIK, contact Dello Russo LaserVision for a free consultation. Then tell them I sent you so I can get a free pair of sunglasses.

After a two week hiatus, I returned to my yoga class last night. I think I'm getting pretty decent. Mariko had us move from chaturanga dandasana into up dog in a way that really targeted my triceps. Clever woman. My sister got in super good shape from going to yoga three days a week (and eating like a bird, but whatever), so I'm going to stick with it.

This is my sister. She's pretty wise.

Brooklyn Half

I was supposed to run the Brooklyn Half Marathon. And I didn't. I've never missed a race before but I just didn't want to wake up. 5 AM to go to Brooklyn? Only to teach, my friends. I slept through my wake up calls and you know what? I'm kind of okay with that.

I woke up at 8 and watched the Young and the Restless instead!

Congratulations to the Professor and all of my other friends who chose to run instead of sleeping off martinis and making out with an attractive bedmate.

NYRR Run as One

I know I've said that I'm over Sunday races (I just can't stay sober for an entire weekend), but I signed up for the NYRR Run as One 4 mile race because I knew I had the Wendy Walk later that day. If I could haul my ass out of bed for the race, I knew I would definitely make it to the walk.

Obviously I went out the night before (my presence was requested at a going away party, and who am I to say no?) and I woke up and really didn't feel like racing. I was awake with more than enough time to get ready, but I decided to read a few chapters of Fifty Shades of Grey, and as usual found myself sprinting to the starting line. The race had already begun but I was able to hop in with the other yellow bib wearers about 50 feet behind the line.

It was definitely a run that required music. I think I listened to Goyte's "Somebody That I Used To Know" like eight times and some Skrillex. I'm not actually that sure anymore, mostly because I was still a little drunk. This 4 mile race follows the same course as the one I ran in April of 2011. It starts at 68th on the east side, goes up and cuts across the 102nd traverse, heads back down the loop and finishes on the 72nd traverse. I was handling myself pretty well and didn't need to weave much until I got up to the hundreds. I wasn't sure if I was slowing down or not because my Garmin never picked up its signal (this is why I shouldn't show up late to races!) and the distance was too short to bother. Mile 3 felt like a bitch and a half. The hill that normally feels like nothing in comparison to the Harlem Hills suddenly felt like Kilimanjaro and I could taste vodka in my throat. I had flashbacks of chugging vodka over ice while ignoring the people around me the night before. Let's be honest here, what the hell am I going to do at a party of mostly girls that I don't know? I subtle move, I drink, I run, and I passionately fight for ed reform. Drinking was the only activity that made sense. (Actually, later in the evening I found myself discussing the pros and cons of last in first out outside of Sweet and Vicious and it was the best part of the entire night.)

When you're thinking about throwing up at mile 3 of a 4 mile race, the only thing left to do is truck it. You're going to boot or your not, but there's no reason to lose time over it. I channeled the beast and started hauling ass towards the finish line.

the beast in action

My coworker said he saw me passing people like woah. He beat me anyway.

Look at those legs muscles! Does anyone else's form drastically change when running sub 7 minute miles? I propel myself forward and I actually feel a lot better, but I feel like I'm wasting a lot of energy if I use the same form when running slower. It feels awkward.

My original plan was to keep running until the Wendy Walk but it was a little chilly and I wanted to read porn about Christian and Ana so I headed on home. I also took the bus. Super lazy.

I finished in 30:10 with an average of 7:32 minute miles. Definitely not as good as last April's 29:21 (7:20 minute miles) but it could have been worse.

One Reason I Love My Job

One reason I love my job is that my coworkers spice up their emails with fun facts. Today I received a link to this article about an unlikely ultra winner. In 1983, a sixty-one year old man rolled up to the start of a 543.7 mile race, won the race, and shocked all the elite athletes. Read about it here.

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