"...In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or
brilliance. They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not."

~ Anonymous
(taken from Matt Erbele's, It Takes Time to Get Good)

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Deep Thoughts with RBR

Thoughts on Ironman:

This weekend was Ironman CdA, held in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, also known as the 'home of that stupid fucking lake.' I was joking with people about it being the 'anniversary of my failure.' I was joking, but it was not all that funny to them or me.

It feels remarkably stupid for me to mourn a failure of a race that I, had everything gone exactly according to plan, would have barely made the cut off for. It is a hobby. You do not dwell on a needlepoint that goes badly for a year. Get over it, RBR. I am not a professional athlete. I am not even a kind of good athlete. There are many out there that think people like me should not even be on the course of a race like Ironman (and to all of those people I give a hearty "Fuck you", "Get a life", and a resounding "Worry about your own fucking HOBBY. Ain't no one paying you to do this shit either.")

Despite my embarrassment of dwelling on something as trivial as a race, I have dwelt on it.

Don't get me wrong. I am proud of all the work I did to get ready for Ironman. And really, for a lot of it, I had a blast (the last month or two of IM training sucks ass, no matter how pretty a place you go or how cool the people you meet are, but I digress...) I met some AMAZING people, went to places I had never been. I suffered, I persevered, and had a lot of funny stories to tell of my journey.

Some of the races/events I did training for this that stick out in my mind:

Solvang century (first 100 miler)

Rage in the Sage 1/2 Iron Triathlon

Big Sur Marathon

Grizzly Peaks 74 mile ride

and of course the big event itself: Ironman Coeur d'Alene

Though all of it, I learned I was physically and mentally capable of far more than I would have ever even dreamed of giving myself credit for. I went to races in strange towns alone and met new people. I made friends with creepy internet people (*smirk*) and then met them in real life and realized that I care as much for them as the people I see in my day to day life (in some cases more, we all have our 'assholes' to bear.)

But even with all of that, I still feel the shame of what other people must think about my DNF (stands for 'did not finish', for you fasties that have never had that happen to you)

Hypothetical judgey people that I have created in my mind: "Of course she DNF'd. Look at her. She is a 40 year old ex-smoker, ex-drug addict, that is overweight, and never worked out, EVER until 5 years ago. I mean, what was she thinking trying to do an Ironman?"

Anyhoo.. that is where my mind goes. My mind is not very nice to me a lot of the time.

You may be asking why are we talking about all of this? 1. My blog. I get to talk about whatever I want and 2. I had several of these bloggy friends racing at my nemesis (aka Home of the stupid, fucking lake) this weekend, so it brought up a lot of feelings about all of this. Plus, I had the esteemed honor of tracking them while they raced.

And track I did.

In true RBR style, I did so obsessively. My heart would race and I would feverishly calculate pace and times and swear compulsively as Ironman.com lagged and timed about and (For example, Sarah it had you in T2 for over 30 minutes. I was screaming at my computer. "What are you doing, girl?! Get out of transition!!" Once ironman.com finished juggling it n*ts@ck or whatever the hell it was doing, we found that she was only there for 7 minutes. So my apologies for that.)

My husband got to hear me scream "Form is flying on the bike!", "Ron hit the 90 mile bike split!", "Sarah crossed the half mary split!!" All. Day. Long. I would not leave the computer and felt the need to inform him of every pace calculation I made, and how much time they needed to get to the next timing mat. A patient man, that Mr. RBR, a patient man indeed.

Side note: Cool pace calculator if you ever find yourself in a similar, obsessive, online stalking situation

Team Dork Rocket Pace Calculator

I must admit, that I was concerned that watching others do what I could not would make me feel worse about the whole thing, but honestly, I was so proud to know people so strong and so brave that they we willing to put it all on the line and attempt what sounds impossible to most of the population. I was so excited for them to be out there celebrating all of their hard work.

And, frankly, it made me a little prouder of myself as well. How big of a deal would it have been if I knew at the start that I would make it? The last 900 yards of that swim was physically the hardest thing I have ever done in my life and I still finished it knowing full well that my race day was mostly likely done anyway. I finished the bike course in the rain, even after they took my timing chip. I did not leave that course until they made me. I may not be an official Ironman, but in attempting the "impossible" I finally felt like an athlete.

You do not have to be fast to be an athlete, you do not have to do an Ironman (or even attempt one) to be an athlete, you just have to be brave enough to see what you are made of physically by taking a few risks, and stop caring what anyone will think of you for trying.
I always say. "if you do not want to see my fat ass run, run faster, then you won't see it anymore."

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is to try to please everyone."
~ Bill Cosby

Go tell Formulaic what a BEAST he is. He is a generous friend, loving husband and father (to the cutest baby in the free world, IMHO) and IRON 4 times over.

Once Ron (PunkRockRunner), gets over his post IRON glow and gets his race report up I will link to it. He is hilarious and promised to get revenge for me on that stupid fucking lake. I think a 1:25:30 Ironman swim is about as big a FUCK YOU as you can give to a lake. Thanks, man. I feel avenged.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Race Report: Bear Creek Trail 1/2 Marathon

Race Report: Bear Creek Trail 1/2 Marathon - Martinez, CA

Alternative Title: The Tortoise and the Hare CAN get along.


Total distance:
13.33 miles
Total climb:
3030 ft
Total Time:
Total number of times I said "Oh good, another climb":
I lost count after 16

Yesterday I received a comment from Katie A. that she was also going to be running the Bear Creek 1/2 today. (ok, that does not really make sense, but it seems odd to say 'Saturday' instead of 'today', when today is Saturday.... Move on, RBR, no one cares)

Like any good blogger I went and lurked at her blog. Damn! This chick is fast. Like 'qualified for Boston', 'runs with Aron (runner's rambles)' type fast. I figured I would look for her and say "Howdy!" but we certainly would not be running 'together'.

As is the case in real life, the metaphorical Katie is cuter than the metaphorical me. (As a biology teacher, I must also add that the metaphorical me in this picture is a turtle NOT a tortoise)


I followed the volunteers' directions and pulled into the grass lot and look over at the car next to me. The perky little gal in the car excitedly asks, "Are you RBR?" It was Katie A. What are the freaking odds of that?! We pulled in at exactly the same time and parked right next to each other. It was kismet! (Calm down, RBR. There were only about 100 people doing this race it is not exactly inconceivable)

We check in and get our timing chips (Seems odd for a trail race with over 3000' ft of climb. Anyone planning on setting a half mary PR on this course? *looks around for a show of hands*)

Lined up at the start. I figured this would be the only time me and Ms. McSpeedypants would be together for a picture.

Side note: I do have to say that this is the second Brazen Racing trail race I have done and I am a fan! I think they do a great job. Great course marking, great volunteers, excellent goodie bag (with shit you will actually use not just fliers), and snazzy looking technical t-shirts. I highly recommend them if you are in the area.


Katie said that she wanted to take it easy today and have fun ,so she was going to stay with me. I will be honest and tell you that my thoughts were "Yeah, right." Many a fast person has told me the very same thing and they rarely make it more than a mile at my tree sloth on Quaaludes pace before they say "I am just going to run ahead a bit. I will see you later."

But, bless her little heart, she did stay with me for the whole race. Snaps to Katie! A true endurance athlete!

First climb. Told you, I am a hot chick magnet.

We met up with really nice gal that was training for the Skyline 50k with Team in Training. We chatted about running and triathlons. I felt a little bad ass to be running with these two women.

RBR running with the hardcore club!

This picture really needs no caption, or it needs a really long one. Hilarious!

I felt hardcore, until the next series of climbs started. Let's talk about the climbs...

Elevation profile for the run. I have to say that there seemed to be some sort of physics trick with this run, where you climbed more than you ran down.

The views were beautiful, but like any beautiful view you had to pay for them.

Here was a personal fave. The climb from 6.5 to 7.5 had a particularly nasty billy goat climb that you had to practically scramble up. I snapped this shot of Katie climbing...

You will note I had to zoom since I was still WAY far back scooping up my lungs from the trail

My taking of the above photo elicited this response from our delicate flower....

I know, I was proud too.

After this we began a particularly miserable section of the run. Full sun, long uphills, almost non-existent downhills. And then we were stalked by a cow.

Cow stalker

Katie has some SERIOUSLY bad running juju. I don't want to tell her stories, but go check out her blog I am sure she will tell you, but let's just say that it was not totally outside of the realm of possibility that we had an unfortunate cow encounter, so we kept a wary eye on our bovine friend .

After narrowly escaping the rogue cow, we celebrated with another climb to complete mile 10 and more beautiful views

The last 3.1, wait I mean 3.3 miles, were not easy, but we kept our sense of humor and got 'er done.

The Finish

The last tenth of a mile we ended up at the bottom of stairs. STAIRS!

My sentiments exactly!

After climbing AGAIN we were done. Katie has never had the pleasure of a last place or almost last place finish. She was a little taken aback by the "special olympics" type cheering and empty parking lot.

Before we started, I was telling Katie that when I finished a race there was never any of the good food left. I told her, "Donuts, cookies, sandwiches? All gone. Fucking watermelon, that's all that is left when I finish."

Well, Katie, did you enjoy your watermelon?

Welcome to my world.

The tortoise race experience is a little different from that of the hare, but when they race together I found that they can have a hell of a lot of fun. Thanks, man. It was a great day.

Randomness (meaning it came on TV while I was typing this post, eating a sandwich, and watching a Hoarders marathon. What can I say? I am a multitasker)

This is just hilarious

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Somedays you got it, some days you don't

Last Tuesday I ran 5 miles at a 9:40 min/mile pace

I will let that sink in....

Need another minute? Yeah, that is BLAZING fast for me.

Ok, now close your yap. You will catch flies.

Yes, RBR, the uncontested Queen of 10+ min/mile (or more if there is an incline of ANY sort) ran sub 10's for 5 miles. I was pretty damn stoked. Sadly it was in the middle of my hellish last week and I did not get a chance to brag about, err.... I mean, report it here.

Granted it was a flat course, but still, that is fast for me.

Elevation for the Tuesday 5 miler 383 ft climb

Today, I ran 5 miles at a blistering 10:59 pace (actually, the total time was 54:59 so when I entered in my Buckeyeoutdoors.com log it showed a pace of 10:60, WTF? so I rounded down. My blog, my rules.) Not exactly the same course, but still flat.

Elevation for Today's 5 miler 239 ft of climb

Again, WTF?

Yesterday, I did run 6 miles with 1463 ft of climb, and I biked 18 miles at a 15 mph average (fast for me and fast for the bike trail with its ever present geese, oblivious assholes, and such) So that may have been a factor, but it is always disheartening to struggle on a weekday run at a clearly poor pace.

Elevation profile for 6 miler


Some artsy-fartsy pictures from my 6 mile midweek trail run (God, I LOVE summer vacation. Regretting choosing that high paying corporate job now, aren't you suckers?! Sure, I am to blame for all that ails America today, but I was also wearing pajama bottoms at 1:30 in the afternoon today *raspberry*)

Special Note to all you uber-judgey photography types (Your judgeyness is palpable! Stop it!): I carry a hot pink point and shoot camera. This is a good as my photos get if you want to see actual talent go look at my hubby's photographs (Shut up, SQ)

Upskirt shot of a Madrone Tree. My most favoritest tree!

See? Told you it was my most favoritest! Once the outer bark peels you get this beautiful, silky smooth, orange-red bark.

A perfect dandelion that has gone to seed. I have no idea the species of dandelion-ish plant it came from. Sorry. Bad biologist, RBR! Bad!

Lilac Godetia (Clarkia bottae)

Sierra Monkey Flower (Diplacus aurantiacus)

Ok, this one is from the Big Basin 25k from Hell, but I like it. (Iris macrosiphon)

Also from the Big Basin 25k from Hell. I was laying on my back in the leaf litter, contemplating staying there until a ranger found me, so I decided to snap a photo for my epitaph.

I decided to run the Bear Creek 1/2 Marathon this weekend. 13.1 miles with about 3030 ft of climb. At least I am getting some hill training in now.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Race Report: Angel Island 25k Trail Run

Race Report: Angel Island 25k Trail Run - Tiburon, CA

Alternative title: The Run that Almost Didn't Happen

Short cut details
(for those that like to see how slow I was this time and do not want to read 1000 words to do so)

25k (15.75 miles, plus I had to run 0.25 mile to catch the goddamn ferry. Total: 16 miles)
3:34:40 (self timed. I will get to that)


This run was cursed almost from the start. About a month ago Penny and Jo Lynn and I decided to do this run, then LA Run Buddy said she wanted do it too.

Totally awesome! Girl Power run. I was so stoked. (Every now and then I try to sound as stereotypically 'California' as possible, dude)

Then last weekend LA Run Buddy's knee went kaputt and she had to bail (ok, I told her she should NOT run and that she was a dumb ass if she did. I know, all sweetness and light that RBR). Then this week Penny got invited with her canine run partner, Velcro, to do a Runner's World photo shoot on Saturday (and ummm... hells yeah, I would bail too. Soo cool) so she was out. THEN Jo Lynn, in LA Run Buddy fashion, has her foot go kaputt and doctor says, "No running for you!"

And then there was one.


If you have read the last two posts (or the last 12 posts, I cannot remember a time when I was not blubbering about this stuff) I had a pretty emotional week (Run Buddy update will be at the end of all this.)

In addition to hubby recovering from cancer treatment surgery and my best friend being hospitalized for a unknown and scary as fuck brain type illness, my parents dog, who has been on chemo therapy for lymphoma for the last year, went into liver failure and had to be put down on Thursday.

In a former life, I was a veterinary nurse (still licensed, but not practicing) and am the 'go to gal' in the family for veterinary medical 'splaining. Which means, when they do not understand the options or diagnosis the doctor has given them, I explain it in more understandable terms. (I am sure it is hard to believe for anyone that reads my overly verbose rantings that I can make things more clear, but that is my job in the family)

Anyhoo, between testing and the specialist visits at my friend's bedside in the hospital, I was explaining to my crying mother and deeply saddened daddy, what liver failure meant and was having the dreaded "how do you know when it is time?" conversation.

Fuck me. Enough already.

Needless to say I strongly considered not even getting up to do the damn thing on Saturday.

Pre-run, part deux

This gets its own section because the other one was too long already and well, my blog, my rules. I can have 12 pre-run sections if I want. So there.

I DID get up on Saturday. I DID drive through fucktarded San Francisco with its fucktarded and convoluted detours to get to the race site in Tiburon. I DID fight with asshole Tiburon business owners that, even though there was a public parking kiosk and 47 fucking signs advertising public parking for $5 in their goddamn parking lot, said we could not park there. I DID eventually park my car and get to the ferry landing. I DID make it to the restroom before my bladder ruptured after 2 hours of driving and 42 oz. of coffee consumed.

Ferry Dock in Tiburon, CA

However, I DID NOT make it on the first ferry to Angel Island which was the one I was supposed to be on to make the 25k and 50k start time at 8:30.

I watched it pull away actually.

Standing on the dock, holding my little ticket.

*Alarms sound*
Whoop Whoop

My throat tightened, my eyes started to fill. I put my sunglasses on (trying to maintain a sliver of self-respect) and stared after the ferry.

RBR devil:
Fuck this. I am going to get breakfast and drive back home.

RBR angel:
Just wait for the next ferry and you can start late. There is no cut off for the 25k. You are fine.

RBR devil:
I don't even want to fucking be here. Why the fuck am I here?

RBR angel:
Even if you run a shorter run, just get out there. You will feel better once you are on the trail.

RBR devil:
There is an 8k right? Where are all the fucking fat people? Why am I always the fattest fucking person at these fucking things? Fuck.

RBR angel:
Just get your whining ass on the goddamn ferry! Fucking A, you are a baby. Damn! (Well, it IS an RBR angel. It is only so angelic)

And so I did. I got on the goddamn ferry.

The Run

I talked to Sarah (the very kind woman that runs the PCTR runs) and she let me and this other gal, a 50k'er that also missed the first ferry, start when we got there. She asked if we could keep our own time.

If you happen to look up my results on the website it will show my time as about 30 min slower than I report here. To prove I am not a liar here is a shot of my Garmin. Yeah, I like I would lie to make up a 13:39 pace. *eyeroll*

I was not sure what I was going to run when I got there. I wasn't sure how far I would go for almost the entire run. I decided this run was purely therapeutic and when it stopped being that I would stop, whether that was at 1 kilometer or 25 kilometers.

First kilometer was climbing a shitload of stairs. Hmmm.... may be a short day. We got to do these 3 times for the 25k.

The 50k'er was excited to have someone to run with and that we would be on the same trail for about 8 miles.



She was super fit and clearly MUCH faster than me. I know she thought we were going glacially slow, but I was at a pace I could not maintain and we were climbing so I was DYING. She was really nice and very interesting and I usually LOVE running and chatting with people, but yesterday I just needed to be alone and run.

So I did something terrible.

I mean, really terrible.

I played the cancer card. Yep, I dropped the 'my husband has cancer' bomb. NO ONE, no matter how nice or how co-dependent, wants to run 8 miles (or even 2 miles) with a stranger talking about cancer. I know, that makes me an asshole, but I did it and it worked, which only reinforces my bad behavior.

About half a mile after the cancer bomb. She was a seriously cool person and on any other day I would have been thrilled to run with her.

After that I settled in for the run. Not knowing if this was going to be the only loop or if I was going to continue for 2 or maybe even all 3. For the 25k you run three loops the Perimeter Road loop, and two interior trails that I can not remember the names of. Each one is about 5 miles give or take.

Profile for the Angel Island 25k. 2035' ft of climb. Little cruel that the climb gets worse on each successive loop.

Running alone somewhere beautiful and away from everything was exactly what I needed. I was completely alone for 90% of the run since I started 30 minutes behind the 50k'ers and the other 25k'ers and about 10 minutes before the 8k'ers 16k'ers. I would love to say I had some great catharsis of the last few months or deep spiritual epiphany, but mostly I thought about nothing and ran.

View of the Golden Gate Bridge

Action Shot of me and the GG bridge. I am going so fast the background is blurred. Ok, fine maybe it isn't, but I was running.

Where's RBR? More self-timer silliness.

Angel Island has a mix of dry grass, full sun trials with panoramic views...

...and magical feeling, fern lined forest trails

This one is to make Penny feel better about missing the run. It was full sun and got hot. Not oppressively so, but certainly not the typical overcast, cool San Francisco area weather.

Cool house that we ran by.

This is where I missed a trail ribbon and went off course twice. Some visitors doing a walking tour of the island had to scream up to me that I was going the wrong way. Then since I was slow on the uptake and changed course to go the wrong way AGAIN, an older woman hiked back up the hill to show me where the trail was (in my defense the ribbon was on the ground and the "trail" was little more than flattened grass.) Her comment when I finally was headed in the right direction was "You have some catching up to do the other runners came by a long time ago." Awesome. Thanks.

Flat grass "trail"

Before I knew it I was headed in from the full 25k run. As I crossed the finish line they announced that the ferry for Tiburon would be leaving and the next ferry was in an hour. Fuck that I am not waiting an hour. I grabbed my t-shirt and a Diet Coke and took off running the 0.25 mile to the ferry dock to make the ferry. Thankfully I did not miss this one.

I was, however, the very last passenger to load. Kind of poetic, no?

Oh, and this one? This one was just for you, G. Smooches from Angel Island.

Run Buddy Update

Thank you again for your kindness and well wishes. She is home. I was able to take her home. Thursday afternoon. She does not have a brain tumor, or MS, or any other scary neurological disease, She was diagnosed with pseudotumor cerebre. It essentially presents like a brain tumor, but is caused by increased intracranial pressure associated with the cerebrospinal fluid (it is also known as idiopathic intracranial hypertension. Which translates to: "We don't know why, but you have increased pressure in your head")

She has more appointments this week with the ophthalmologist and has started some medication. I am still freaked out, but at least some of the scary stuff is off the table.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Four Days into summer

Three of the four days this summer I have spent entirely in hospitals. Not one weekday of my fledgling summer has gone by that I have not spent time (and usually a VAST amount of time) on a surgery ward, in a doctor's office, an emergency room, or hospital ward.

My Run Buddy (my first running partner that no longer runs, but is still my one of my two best friends. She needs a new blog nickname, but I am too tired to think of something as creative as 'Run buddy') is in the hospital.

Run Buddy and me at the Nike Women's Marathon 2008. I was injured and had to walk/run and she stayed with me the whole day.

I have been there 10+ hours a day for the last two days. I am headed back there now. Well, as soon as I quit pissing and moaning here.

Us at her bachelorette party last summer. Her crazy party was her and I spending the weekend in Monterey and going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. The 'Girls Gone Wild' crew followed us everywhere! Bastards.

Run buddy AFTER the Mermaid triathlon in 2008. I know, you are not supposed to be that damn adorable after a race!

She has had three MRI's and had a lumbar puncture yesterday for testing and to remove some CSF to relieve the pressure. I threw a mini fit when I could not go in with her. Then I stood guard at the door like some big goon. I heard one of the nurses say, referring to me, "I think that is the girlfriend. She looks scared and kind of pissed." (In their defense, I do sign into the visitor log as relationship to patient: Wife, just to fuck with the guard dude. Prop 8 can kiss my ass)

When she came out I started crying. She kept telling me it was not that bad and she was fine. She is handling it like a champ and I am a fucking basket case. WTF? What a great support crew I am.

Good news: She does not have a brain tumor.

Bad news: There is other scary stuff still on the table in terms of diagnosis.

Good news: She is feeling good besides some really fucked up symptoms (like blind spots and blue waves of light and flashes in her vision)


Anyhoo I need to get going I just needed to rant, since it all about me, and all.

It is official, 2010 can suck it.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Rambling about nothing

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support, kind words, and thoughts for my husband's surgery and treatment. It helps us both more than I can adequately express to have so much positivity and love out there.

At first, I was not sure I wanted to post about this particular area of my life, but now I am really, really glad I did. You all have helped me cope with what is arguably one of the toughest chapters in my life.

Movie Reviews

During our radioactive implant recovery weekend (you like how I fully partake in the 'recovery' part even though I skated on the whole 'having cancer' or even 'having surgery' part? Nice, huh?) we went on a movie watching spree. We have not seen a movie together in months, but in the last 4 days we have watched 5.

My ass is currently sporting a serious couch print, which may not be so bad if my couch was not a circa 1985 hand-me-down, dusty rose behemoth with an embroidered pattern of country blue tulips. Not a good look for me, nor my ass.

Anyhoo, I thought I would continue my uber-thorough movie critiques for the remaining 2 movies.

Here is a refresher of the first three comprehensive movie reviews:

1. Wolfman (review: Meh. But not as bad as they said. I think it is worth seeing)

2. Shutter Island (review: Awesome. A must see if you like psychological thrillers)

3. Valentine's Day (review: Stupid, but not as bad they said.)

And the remaining 2 movies that are lesser known (I think they may have gone straight to video or at the very least went there really, really quick)

4. The Salton Sea (review: Weird, ok, VERY weird, but an awesome psychological drama/thriller. Val Kilmer is great in this role. First movie I have liked him in since Real Genius.)

Make up Artist FAIL - Single WORST fake tattoos of all time. (Val Kilmer in The Salton Sea)

5. The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans (review: Not a sunny, feel good, "Life Rocks" film, but quirky and interesting, with a type of HUGELY imperfect humanity that I can not only relate to, I appreciate. Val Kilmer regains his general suckiness in his role, but Nicolas Cage and Eva Mendez (who I usually can't stand) were great.)

Saturday Run - 12 miles

*Stream of consciousness writing about training partner problem. Feel free to skip*

LA Run Buddy and I ran Saturday morning and unlike last Saturday where I was breathing like a woman in labor and she was nursing a pretty wicked hangover, we were both healthy or so we thought. Her knee gave out at the characteristic 8 miles. In all honesty, we have only had one run over 8 miles that her knee did not give out and even in the 2 and 1/2 years she was in LA she only had one run over 8 miles that she did not have a knee problem. For a grand total of 2 runs over 8 miles without knee troubles for her in 5 and half years of running together.

When she moved to LA (hence the moniker) was when I got into marathons and this is the first time we have been training together full time when I am training for a marathon. That is why it is now an issue.
She is my best friend and I would not have done any of this shit without her. I consider myself a freaking lucky beeotch that I even know someone as amazing as her.

I am trying to accept (and get her stubborn ass to accept) that she cannot do long runs in marathon training with me that are over 8 miles. The reality is if we start a run together I am not going to leave her to walk it in alone while I finish the run if her knee gives out. It really makes her upset and she feels like shit when it happens. (I know, you are thinking if it happens on virtually every run over 8 miles why is it a surprise? and why does she keep doing it? *shrugs* I don't know. She is remarkably stubborn) She, and how she feels, is more important than any run. I will not hurt her feelings to get a few extra miles in.

However, I would like to/need to get some longer runs in.

Sooooo.... we have a dilemma.

She has agreed that the Angel Island 25K next week is a bad idea, so she is not going (which makes her very unhappy that I am "running with other women." That sounds weird, but I knew what she meant.) I know we have to have a talk soon if I am going to get ready for SF Marathon, but I ma not looking forward to that conversation.

That is it. I do not have an answer. That is why I am writing about it, I guess. That and she does not read my blog.

The big, bleach blonde elephant in the room

Say what you will about Britney, but she got her shit together for the 2008 release of Circus. From self-shaved skin head, rehab bound, freak show to this in less than a year? My hat's off to you, Brit!

Ok, the hair.

On Monday at school I looked like this

The Drama Queen title never seemed so apropos as in a post about my fucking hair.

On Wednesday at school I looked like this

The picture I texted to my mother. At least I am not crying.

*The rest of this will bore the snot out of the boys and a good portion of the girls, so I apologize in advance*

I have highlighted my hair for years. It kept me at an acceptable (to me) level of blonde (I was born blonde. Toe headed actually. I was the type of blonde that is bald for the first 3 years of life, and then becomes a wispy, static prone piece of shit for years. It went to a thicker, darker blonde by high school.)

As I have gotten older and my hormones have changed, my hair has gotten darker and darker making the contrast between my highlights and natural color more noticeable and in my opinion unattractive.

Then the grays came in.

Are you fucking kidding me?

My mother has exactly 4 gray hairs at 63. She has never highlighted or colored her hair in any way and it is a beautiful auburn color that people pay for. (Small rant: This is not the only DNA sequence that she withheld from my genome. Apparently, she also hung on to long thin legs, ectomorph metabolism, patience, color sense, and how to look good no matter what the occasion)

My mother in Alaska. We had been living on a boat for 10 days. I looked like I had been very recently rescued from homelessness and she fucking looks like this. Irritating to say the least.

That was the final straw. Graying, dark blonde/mouse brown hair is HIDEOUS, so I did it, I went bleach blonde. I was a little shocked by the results and the jury is still out on how I feel about it, but I am stuck with it at this point.

There it is. Love it or hate it. We are stuck with it for a while at least.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

He's Radioactive!

I can't help but think of that song whenever we talk about radiation therapy.

I feel it is my job to get obnoxious songs stuck in all of your heads as you run. It is one of my more simple pleasures. You don't have to thank me. *smirk*

Today my hubby had his radioactive seed placement surgery (brachytherapy). Today was also graduation day at my school. Needless to say I was not there. It is the first graduation I have missed. I also missed the last day of finals. The school year feels very undone. I am more than a little sad about it.

A gift from my awesome, fantabulous students: the most awesomest, fantabulous coffee mug EVER!

Ok, I possibly go a little overboard. They also bought me a crown, saying 'a proper Drama Queen needs a crown.'
'Cha. As if!

The surgery went very well and hubby is recovering where he belongs, right next to me. And besides the 2 liter bag for collecting urine dangling between us, all feels pretty normal right now. Normal and almost as if he does not have cancer. I have lots of times like this when I think 'he can not possibly have cancer. Look at him. Hot as ever, riding his bike, going to the gym, walking the dog. He looks healthy as a goddamn horse!' But he does have cancer, and this surgery marks the official beginning of the battle against the errant cells that are trying to kill him.

I decided to tell this like a race report, since it is a race of sorts. Just a race, unlike the 'racing' I do, that is really, really fucking important.


In my world, humor gets us through just about everything. I don't actually think my husband finds me all that funny. I think, however, he is hilarious. Sometimes our humor is... umm.. less than appropriate. The 70-ish year old nurse told us we were having too much fun for the surgery floor and let out an audible gasp when I smacked his bare ass in the pre-op room. (If he is going to shake it, I am going to smack it. I am just sayin')

Waiting for check in. You may notice my hair is significantly blonder in this picture. Err...Yeah, I will get to that little midlife crisis in another post. For now, we (and by 'we' I mean G) will ignore it. Moving on.

Checking stock quotes. *eyeroll*

Rockin' the lunch lady look.
"Why, yes" *giggle* "I would love some more peas"


Here is the part that makes me a horrible wife. Hubby's anesthesiologist was ridiculously hot. I mean, like 'melt your fucking mascara' hot and, it is a little known fact, but I am a bit of a flirt. I know, you are shocked. I hide it well.

Anyhoo, hubby typically finds this amusing. Mostly, I am sure, because I married WAY out of my hotness league, and he is never threatened by it. This time he was telling the nurses (who were SHAMELESSLY flirting with him, like, 'hey lady weren't you wearing a bra earlier?' type flirting. Whores!) that he needed an older, fatter anesthesiologist, due to a 'conflict of interest'. Hoo! Told you he was funny.
It was hard to let go of his hand and let them wheel him away. They had to tell me to let go. Twice.

I waited in the outpatient surgery room and got some work done while they injected 40 radioactive seeds into my husband's prostate. The surgery only took about 50 minutes and after he recovered a bit they brought him back down to me. I felt like my heart started beating again, when I saw his smiling face and knew he was ok.


He was clear headed and feeling pretty good already. He said there was some burning where the seeds were injected and, of course, the urinary catheter was uncomfortable, but other than that he was virtually pain free.

When we got home, he wanted a cheeseburger, that has to be a good sign and we settled in for a movie marathon: Wolfman (update: Meh. But not as bad as they said. I think it is worth seeing), Shutter Island (update: Awesome. A must see if you like psychological thrillers), Valentine's Day (update: Stupid, but not as bad they said.)

Post op check up, second hormone therapy injection, and urinary catheter removal this morning (gosh, it won't seem the same without our little yellow bag to snuggle with)

Current score:

Mr. RBR 2 Prostate Cancer 0