Imagine.

My run today was polluted with advertisements for the Chicago Olympic bid. It's annoying, really, those signs hanging everywhere and just thinking some of my tax money might have paid for it. Our city and state have superhigh taxes and huge budget deficits - why would we spend money on a giant international party? I hope those IOC people can figure out that it would be just cruel to ask a city that can't afford to patch potholes to pay for their gig.

The run went really, really well though. I was reading about how shorter runs can count for more if you make them harder. 7 miles into the 12 I started kicking the pace, and by 10 I was running a full minute faster than marathon pace. Wowsa, didn't know I had that in me. I got the high, I enjoyed the spring weather, and I'm having one of the days where I sorta believe I can hit my pace goal. Sorta.

Last night Audrey, Erica, Dacia, and I went to see the Feint and Ladytron at Metro. I felt sooooo old. Not just because most of the crowd was younger, but because of what I was thinking. Things like "this place is too crowded," "I'm glad I brought earplugs," "the sound mixing in this place sucks," and "I'm so glad I wore sneakers instead of something fashionable, this is lots of standing." Four years ago I was going to shows weekly and putting up with way worse. (smoking! though the sound at 9:30 is way better...) It was fun, but I think I'll probably not go to Metro again. I miss Backstage at the Black Cat, dc9, but especially The Galaxy Hut. (I could really use a grilled cheese with love right now.)

I dreamed of vultures.

(Photo: BohPhoto)
I'm a huge John Darnell/Mountain Goats fan. Have been for years (and years). He's one of the few artists who can really carry a live acoustic show, since he's smart and hilarious and we all love him. Last night Ben and I cursed the fact that the show was moved from blocks away from our house to about 5 miles away, but the trip was worth it. Ben even got to shout out, "make us cry!" Which John heard, and even later commented on. He also sang about a third of my favorite songs.
"I'm gonna get myself in fighting trim,
scope out every angle of unfair advantage.
I'm gonna bribe the officials.
I'm gonna kill all the judges.
it's gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage."
Oh, hell yeah.
Naturally I sat there and realized that I haven't been motivated, like really motivated, to do anything lately. Where'd all my fiery anger go? Don't you dare say it disappeared at 30. I need to run angrier, campaign angrier, feel determined. Cause more damage. Because not all damage is bad. It's the Steppenwolf problem. Screw contentment, I wanna go break something.

I ran fast this morning.

Audrey's tiling our kitchen, a fact that I forgot when we invited Ben's Mom over for dinner last night. We threw a quiche together and called it a day. I'm a half-assed daughter-in-law. We'll just have to make another attempt at it.

april, come she will.

(photo: Ben)My first piece appears on the CX Mag website today. Tell me if you like it.

My body is toast. I think I'm fighting off the flu bug that everyone around here seems to have gotten. My legs were fried this morning, and it was all I could do to finish the last weekday 8 miler of the plan. I hate Wednesday runs, they make me get up early and run through dawn. Won't miss 'em one bit.

Yesterday I was able to wrangle just about everything in my life back to order - getting thank-yous out for the races, paying bills, writing a letter to my Grandma, uploading Gizmo data, even getting myself a little gift from Rivendell (very little). So now I'm back to having my focus on training, and I'm getting exactly the same feelings I had last year at this time. Near burnout, wanting just to sleep in. "10 more days till taper, just get through."