Bouncing Back

In December I quit my job without having anything else lined up. I intentionally wanted to take some time off because I was overly stressed out. My time off would be at least partially no work and no school, and possibly school with no work, which I was really excited about. However, the spring semester started January 29, and on February 1 I started a new job. So, back at it.

Why this job? In early January I found out I was accepted to an optional course that will take me to Namibia. The course spans summer and fall (7 credits, holy shit) and includes 10 days in the country working with conservationists on a particular issue in that region. For Namibia, that means cheetah conservation. But it's expensive. The course is over $3,000 not including airfare or extra expenses (souvenirs, extra travel days, extra snacks, etc.). Obviously I'll want to travel to other countries while in Africa so I'm looking at $5,000 bare minimum. For what I'm getting it's actually very affordable (7 credits, a flight to the other side of the world, unheard of educational opportunity, and a visit to a place I've been dreaming about for decades), it's just a lot all at once. I've been saving for this so I'm set, but definitely couldn't keep living on my savings for funzies.

This job also comes with the title I've been wanting: content and communications coordinator. Far more than SEO manager, this title is something the nonprofit organizations I'm interested in actually hire for, so having this on my resume is going to be really helpful. This role will give me much more relevant social media experiences and involves the kind of writing I'd like to be doing.

One of the most appealing things about this job is the flexibility. It's slightly less than full time, meaning if I need to not work a full 40 hours I don't have to (which will be a massive break from my previous full-time-plus job), and I'll be working from home a lot of the time, which gives me back that commute time. When I do need to meet in-person it's in a co-working space in my own area, so I can walk or ride my bike. Win win win.

That said, I'm also taking my two regular classes plus an independent study, totaling 6 credits this semester (the most I've ever taken at once was 5). Soooo I'm a little nervous that I've over extended myself.

Which brings me to the title of this post: bouncing back. It's kind of two-fold. I'm back to working and schooling, so I fully anticipate the same level of stress I quit my job to avoid. But it also means I very likely won't be doing much in the way of exercise. I didn't for several months in 2017 and it was brutal. I love running and miss it very much. The weight gain and general depressive state I'm in when not running suck, so running was one of my top priorities during my break (almost every day, even if it was only a mile). I also did a (very) little weight lifting with the free weights we have at home and loved the tone and strength my arms started to show. It's amazing how quickly my body bounces back after neglecting it for some time. I only had a month to really prioritize exercise and eating well and in that month lost some weight, fit better in my jeans, and felt good. Really good. Like I felt when I was running again after recovering from an ankle injury and surgery. I have a 5k next month, but by this time next year I'll be signed up for a bunch of races. It's encouraging that in only a month of running not even particularly far distances I'll feel great again, even after stopping for several months. Just need to remember that the yucky that I feel is temporary.

Edit: I ran that 5K faster than I've ever run anything! Finished under 25 minutes, which is a minute faster than I expected and two minutes faster than my goal. Felt really good to see that end time and be at the front-ish of the herd and to get the validation of the training paying off. Maybe a little extra good because it was raining, on a dirt and somewhat muddy trail, and I was wearing a tutu.

Getting The Best Start

When 2010 was such a terrible year in every facet I made the decision that 2011 would not be the same. It didn't happen all at once, but I eventually got a job that wasn't great but gave me abilities and skills I didn't have before (which led to the great job I have now), started the most wonderful relationship, and ran 3 half-marathons. When 2012 started (by the way, how is it that you can tell so much from a new year's kiss?) I was confident it would be as good as 2011 was, and it only got better. Now it's ending and I have an amazing job at a fantastic company, my relationship with the boyfriend has gotten stronger and I love where I live and how I live.

Going over my predictions for 2012 from last year, I'm a little disappointed. The Mayan End of Times was no big deal. People seemed to treat it like I've treated all of the past end of times... with a party. The last day of the world was the night my company's holiday party and the group next to us was an End of Times dinner party. Awesome, but there wasn't as much fear mongering as there used to be. I suppose people are becoming more rational. Sigh.

2012 has been the year of Apple. In June I bought myself a new shiny, and in October the boyfriend got me a mini shiny, helping me finally join the world of iPhone (yay!). I bought a heavy duty case for it, mostly because the boyfriend is convinced I'm going to drop it in the toilet or something (to his credit, just the other day I was holding it while standing perfectly still and somehow it leaped out of my hand, but my hyper-aware iPhone reflexes helped me catch it, so there), but I want a thinner case to show off the sexy profile. Cause let's be real: a big part of the reason I wanted this phone was because of the slim, sexy design, and my case lets everyone know that I'm a clumsy fool. Or that I have a toddler.

This month my car and I celebrated our 1 year anniversary and I can proudly say I'm a full-fledged stick driver. Plus, I taught the boyfriend to drive so whose car we take doesn't turn into a who has to drive situation. We took my car on a 2,00+ mile road trip up to Oregon in August and he gave it a couple of sexy photo shoots. 

There were a few sort-of disappointments this year. The main disappointment being I did not beat the 2 hour mark on my half marathon in 2012, and in fact did not even come close. I ran the worst race of my life, coming at barely under 3 hours. Embarrassing. But here's to making 2013 better.

I also took out the piercing I got in 2011, finally admitting that it was infected and just not worth the pain and hassle (and money). Rather than working towards 7 piercings, I'll just stick with the 5 healthy ones I already have and be satisfied with that odd number. Maybe that's me being a little bit of an adult... other people, some of whom are younger than me, are removing piercings because they aren't "adult" so maybe it's not so bad that I do, too. 

This year has been a pain in the ass for birth control. I still had no insurance so had to rely on Planned Parenthood even though I was working full time for all of the year, and it's been really frustrating having to give up so much just to stay un-pregnant. I'm not one of those women who has to take hormonal birth control for medical reasons, so for me it's just to be able to have a normal relationship with my boyfriend and not have children neither of us want. Which seems simple enough, doesn't it?

Also, the fish I got in 2011 died. 

I'm ending the year with almost as much debt as I paid off in 2011, which is OK because I have the money to pay it off, but have been saving it for an apartment deposit. Once I have my moving situation settled it'll be paid off in no time. Making pretty good money helps.

So what's going to happen in 2013? One of the first things will probably be moving. This will be a terrific milestone for me because I haven't moved since late 2010, a feat I never really thought I'd do (one thing that stayed the same from 2011 to 2012 was not moving). Now that I'm working 4 blocks from my current apartment I have no reason to leave - especially since I love the neighborhood. So finding a place that likes dogs will be one of my first tasks. My second task will be to start training for my 5th half marathon - the 3rd annual Safari Park Half. This time it's for rhinos! I'm so excited to run for the guys I love. My third event will be my first time as a bridesmaid! All of those activities will take place before June, so I have no idea what the second half of the year will hold, but I'm really excited. If the first 6 months tell me anything, 2013 is going to be another great year.

My resolution will be to redesign this blog, host it myself, and write 10 posts a month. I want a new name, a new home, and a new look. I would also like to do some of the same things for the food blog, even though that's still relatively new... Also take that blog a little more seriously and write a lot more. 

I would like to write about some of the other things that happened in 2012, things not directly related to me, but when I think about what the world was focused on this year (rape, shady politics, genocide, taxes) it mostly depresses me.

So here's to a fantastic 2013, to all of those in my life old and new, to those who had a great year and those who had a not so great year. May 2013 be one of the greatest years. Cheers!

Worst Race Ever

Not really. The pretty medal made it all worth it!

Yesterday I ran the second annual Safari Park Half Marathon (again, for the tigers) and boy was it a rough one. There were a few different points when I wanted to give up and walk the rest or just stop at the next medic station, and I started the run with a full bladder and a rumbling stomach, both of which stayed with me through the next 3 hours (I did stop to pee but was so concerned about getting back out there that I got in and out as quickly as possible, not completely emptying my bladder). 

Although, 90% of the difficulty was my own fault: I didn't train hardly at all, my only long run being the 9ish miles of the Hot Chocolate Race and nearly every other run being less than 5 miles, so I couldn't have been too surprised at my awful time. But then I didn't help my own cause by having shoe problems and changing my race shoe twice in the final week, finally settling on the same pair I ran in this race last year, which I reasoned was better than running in a week old shoe that hadn't had time to be broken in yet. 

The last 10% of the run was totally not my fault: whoever designed the race and decided that a GIANT DIRT HILL was a good idea should definitely not design the next race. This hill was not just any hill, and made the elephant hill of last year look like a driveway. It was enormous, super steep, and all dirt, and I applaud anyone who actually ran that thing. I started off at a jog and pretty quickly gave that up, and jogged over the crest, but that hill was no joke.

Speaking of jokes, the hill had a few punny jokes to try making it more bearable. Why did the tiger lose at poker? Because he was playing with a cheetah! My favorite: What does this hill and an elephant's trunk have in common? They both suck! HAHA! They did make me smile on the hill and briefly take my mind off it, which I guess was the point, but then again I really like punny jokes.

The run did feature a pair of cows, a camel, wine "glasses" of Gatorade at the winery, several animal statues, an elephant herd and a few other cool things worth taking pictures of, but without someone to take a picture for me (and a camera...) I couldn't really take any of that with me. 

All in all it would have been a decent run, all things considered, but the minute I crossed the finish line I suddenly stopped breathing. That has never happened before and it was completely terrifying. My boyfriend was at the finish waiting for me and I eeked out that I couldn't breathe- my lungs felt tight and tiny and I wanted giant gulps of air that just weren't coming. Volunteers handing out medals tried to congratulate me and I couldn't respond. We walked over to the medic station (which seemed to just be a place to get ice on the knees) where they summoned EMTs. While I was waiting I loosened my bra and could breathe better. They hooked me up to two different machines and said my readings were perfect... except for my heart rate, which was a little high, but then I'd just finished 13.1 miles. After a while, when I was breathing normally again, they were satisfied that I wasn't going to collapse and made me sign a waiver saying I refused to be escorted to the hospital, meaning I didn't want an ambulance ride. Actually, the way it was phrased was, "I'm guessing you don't want a ride in a big red box, do you?" I denied and signed.

I didn't feel well for a good portion of the day after that. I was nauseous, had a headache and obviously was sore pretty much everywhere (even my arms for some reason), so I slept for most of the day. This run really took the wind out of me and it'll make me think long and hard about doing it again. In the end, though, I'm really glad I did it and glad I finished, but next time I'll be a lot more serious about training so I'm better prepared.

In Which I Am A Stereotype

Also, a girl.

No idea why this was the first girl I thought of.

In a twist that's mostly unlike me I'm feeling extraordinarily insecure about the world, my own life especially. I feel like I'm failing at most things and being mediocre at the rest and that in order to improve in any one area I need to give up another. Between working, training for a half marathon, the two blogs and job searching my time runs out so quickly. I'm tired constantly, have little energy and spending close to 12 hours a day working (or preparing to work) at a job that's emotionally tiring makes my enjoyable evenings fly by. 

It's disgusting how one of my coworker's is being treated and that I'm being used as a pawn to hurt her after I tried to step in and help, it's terrifying how one owner seems to be actively trying to run the company into the ground and it's frustrating to have been there a year with very little positive changes to the company. I don't have the tools to properly do my job, despite asking for them repeatedly, and have been told we're all expendable, which feels awesome. There is a silver lining to my job: I'm now in charge of the company's social media campaign in addition to writing, there are more promises of taking me off phone call duty (we'll see...), and one owner seems to really appreciate me. 

I loved running 15 months ago when I had only a part time job that I didn't have to get up early for and could do my running first thing, which I prefer but am much too tired to motivate myself to get up at 6. Now it's just an hour or more into my night that I could spend relaxing, cooking, cleaning, running errands, and keeping better tabs on this blog. I had more time to plan my meals to fuel my body and help it recover, could eat immediately and then rest after a long run, and had the energy to keep going without stopping for double digit miles. All of that is gone now. But even if I didn't have the blogs or didn't want to spend time with my boyfriend I wouldn't want my life to only consist of working and running- I don't like either that much. I miss when running was fun and having to do it makes it not fun.

On a daily basis I see people who have made their living from their blog or their passion (hell... I'm dating someone who's doing that) and I'm jealous. I read home remodeling blogs at work, follow people making a difference for animals on Facebook, watch my boyfriend become more successful doing what he loves and feel like I put in a lot of effort and time for something I don't care about, something that doesn't matter. I want to care about what I do, I want to work for a company that respects its employees and tries as hard as we do to make it into something great, and I'm not even asking or hoping to make a lot of money... just to sustain myself and live a modest life without worry. 

But a big part of my newfound insecurity is knowing that there are things I definitely want that I may not get. I've always wanted to get my Master's degree and for the last couple of years have wanted to pursue sociology, partially because it's a field I'm interested in that truly matters and partially because pursuing the field I really want is unrealistic, especially in this educational climate. As funds for higher education are being slashed left and right, as kids barely even have the tools they need to learn and compete in the world, my hope for returning to school while working is starting to fade. Classes at community colleges are being cut, which means the prerequisites I would need are few and far between, and student loans are at an all time high. It's not easy to be in school right now, and it's hard to imagine being in school while having a full time job on top of it- I couldn't even do that as a literature major in undergrad. Another thing I've (almost) always  known I wanted is to have someone I could build the kind of life one would build with a life partner (is it weird that "life partner" sounds less awkward than "husband?"), and as I get older I realize more that it's important to me. My sister recently moved in with her long term boyfriend and they got a puppy together, and while I'm exceedingly happy and excited for them both I can't help but hope I have a similar future. The up side is that for the first time in my life I'm with someone who doesn't come with a "but we'll have to break up eventually" addendum. Like the How I Met Your Mother episode, everyone seems to have a "but;" for the longest time that was "but he wants kids," and it's exciting to date without that on the table. But (ha, see?) it's also terrifying to feel strongly about someone else when I know what I want in my life. 

Hopefully the insecurities will fade quickly... taking care of my taxes this weekend will at least get that off my shoulders and if all goes well money won't be as big of an issue (at least I'll be saving for fun things). At the very least my race will be over in 5 weeks and after that I'll be able to look at running and going to the gym in a fun way because I'll want to do it, not because I have to. And, above all else, hopefully a better work opportunity will come my way soon.

Three Years of Blogging

I started this blog 3 years ago today (under a different name for a few days, until I settled on this) as a way to keep me focused and sharp during what would become a 3 month period of unemployment. There's certainly been a lot that's happened and changed in three years:


Got 2 jobs at the Wild Animal Park
Broke up with my long term boyfriend
Seriously doubted my faith
Collected unemployment insurance
Moved out of my wonderful studio
Changed my phone number
Lived with a friend
Lived with a crazy person
Had an amazing summer
Started running, seriously
Reevaluated my meat eating habits
Dated a friend, then ended the friendship
Used my Class B license for a job
Made a bunch of international friends
Had a shitty year
Said goodbye to a dog
Read a bunch of books
Remembered why I love living in San Diego
Was more or less dumped in favor of cocaine
Was more or less disowned by my father
Found a great roommate and a great apartment
Learned to love North Park
Got a writing job
Rediscovered my real passion
Celebrated 2 cousin's weddings
Ran 3 half marathons in 2 states
Made real friendships
Lost fake friendships
Fell deeply in love with a real friend
Traveled to San Francisco and Las Vegas
Sold a car
Bought a car
Started a new blog


This year has been amazing so far and the vast majority of last year was, too. I fully intend on enjoying the rest of it as much as I possibly can. Imagining what the next three years might hold is pretty exciting, too, especially (and this is where I get to be a girl) when I think about the amazing times in store with my boyfriend at my side. There's one thing that will always be certain in my life, in the next 3 years an beyond, and that is that I will always be writing. 

In Which I Am A Gym Member

Now I have to figure out locker room etiquette...

So I joined a gym.


Didn't really think I was the type of person to pay to exercise, but you know what? Having a machine that forces you to run at a consistent pace is pretty great, and being in a room full of other sweaty people trying to improve their bodies is a good motivator. And I think I'm going to like the consistent climate within a gym.


After spending a few weeks researching my options and trying out a couple of places, I picked the least expensive gym, Chuze Fitness, for a few reasons. 


It's near my home and on my way to and from work. I stop in after work about every other day, and when I want to go on the weekends it's a 5 minute drive from my place or a short trip down the freeway from my boyfriends'. A pretty convenient location and I'm more than happy to make the drive and save $20 a month over every other gym around.


It's enormous. You can see the TVs from the freeway. There are 4 rows of various equipment evenly spaced and in front of the various channels so you can watch the show you choose while working out on the machine you choose. There's a whole dedicated weight area and a class space, and so far I haven't had a problem finding a free locker to use.


It's new. And clean. The cleanliness was a big issue for me and my moderate germophobia. There are signs everywhere reminding people to wipe down equipment after sweating all over it, there are paper towels and sanitizing spray conveniently located everywhere and nothing has felt wet or sticky yet. The walls still look freshly painted, the bathroom is clean, and staff members are constantly walking around with hand vacuums. 


It has variety. There are treadmills, two different kinds of elliptical machines, and stationary bikes and all of the machines have a little thing where you can plug in your headphones to listen to whatever show is on that lets you change channels (there are 10 and the variety is pretty solid. I watched Chicken Run last Saturday.). The weight machines seem to cover every muscle and are designed in a way that women can use them without feeling like we're exposing ourselves. All the weight machines face one direction so you're just staring at people's backs. I've found a machine to train every muscle I want, plus there are enough free weights for the standard stuff.


It has free classes. All classes are included in the membership, which is just $10 a month. I took one and it kicked my butt, but in a way that made me feel stronger. It was good to have a leader yelling at me/the class to not stop; I don't do that to myself. There's also a variety of classes to suit a range of fitness styles at different times so you should be able to go to any class you want at least once a week. Plus, signing up for a membership gives you a 30 minute session with a trainer where you can ask questions about fitness and nutrition and focus them towards a specific goal. 


It has a no grunting policy. Seriously. I had to sign saying I would not grunt. The point (I had to ask) is that grunting is intimidating and Chuze wants to be unintimidating, so if you're working out so hard you're grunting you should step it down a notch or take it to a gym that's better suited for that. Plus, people who are body building and serious weight lifters are probably not going to be at this gym because it's designed for the average person, and it goes to great lengths to make the average person feel comfortable. The other gym I tested out did not make me feel this way, and I did feel rather awkward and even weak compared to the other members. And Chuze has a much higher percentage of female members than the other gym I tried, which is more important than I realized. So there's none of this.


It does, however, also have the former-neighbor-turned-one-night-stand as a member, which I discovered, but that's much better than the person I might run into at the gym near my house.


Since my time for a half marathon has only gotten worse, I'm hoping the gym membership will get my butt back into gear and in May I'll beat my best time. But after this race is over I think I'm going to keep the membership so I don't have an excuse to not run when it gets hot over the summer and can get back the tone I used to have in my arms. For $10 a month there's really no reason not to.

Two Thousand Eleven

After the disappointment that was 2010 I decided 2011 was going to be better. It so fucking was.

First, it was a year overwhelmingly full of love. I fell in love with San Diego all over again, discovered a love for running (which I'm working on rekindling as the year closes), and fell ridiculously crazy in love with a wonderful friend who I absolutely cannot wait to spend the next year with. I love my neighborhood, my brat of a cat, my apartment with the bars on the windows, and my new car. I loved seeing my friends move on in adulthood and succeed, paying off the debt I'd carried around since graduation (one of my favorite accomplishments), and seeing my sister get serious with someone who's great for her.

I started off the year by participating in a flash mob. I enjoyed it a ton, even though my roommate got really sick the days leading up to it and wasn't able to do it with me and now that flash mobs are so last year, I can at least say I participated in one. For silliness.

Easily my biggest accomplishment for 2011 was finishing 3 half marathons, 2 5Ks and a 4 mile race for a total of 49.3 racing miles and who knows how many training miles. I bought two new pairs of running shoes, several pairs of dry wicking socks, a running jacket, shorts and an iPod and send a few hundred dollars on entry fees and transportation. I have a small stack of bibs, 3 finisher medals (one of which glows in the dark!), a bunch of safety pins and more technical t-shirts than I know what to do with. It's a good feeling, and when I continue in 2012 I'm gonna try to beat that 2 hour mark.

Probably my second biggest accomplishment for 2011 was not moving. That's right, I had the same address for a full year, something which seriously doesn't happen very often for me. One of my goals for 2012 (a ridiculously easy goal, at that) is to make this address the one I live in the longest in San Diego. I have absolutely no intentions of moving, and unless my roommate decides to buy a place she doesn't either. North Park certainly feels a lot more like home now, and I've learned to appreciate what it offers.

I also was able to find a job in my area, one in which I'm using my degree (and, for the most part, need it) and making a higher rate than I ever have, which, now that there's a car payment, still seems like I'm just getting by. My commute is short, my hours are good, my coworkers are a lot of fun to be around and my boss can be pretty generous when he wants to be. It may not be my dream job, and one goal for 2012 will be to find my dream job, but it's good for right now, and it's helping me learn a lot that's going to help me in the future.

This year was not without it's down moments, however. In a coincidental yet poetic turn of events, the day before my birthday, which just so happened to be a day before the 1 year anniversary of my dad officially cutting me out of his life, I went to his house and gathered the last of my belongings there. It was civil and very quick and I'm glad to have gotten it over with, but it has made the last few months extra full of anger and resentment. Every time I see an older woman with red hair I feel incredible hatred towards these perfect strangers. It's becoming difficult to understand how such hatred can exist in the same place as such incredible love.

It was also not a good year for electronics. My camera battery is 99% dead, and the minute or so that it holds a charge really isn't long enough to take and download even one picture. Also unfortunately, I don't think they make those camera batteries anymore (at 4 years old it might as well be ancient) so it looks like I might have to buy a new one. Lucky for me, however, I have my own personal photographer (ok, he's not my own personal photographer) who is usually willing to take my pictures for me, so buying a camera isn't an immediate need. My computer also took a turn for the worse- a laptop without a working screen isn't good for much. The weird thing is after all the shit I put that machine through it still works perfectly and is way faster than the one I've been borrowing for the last few months, except for the screen. A new MacBook Pro is very, very high on my list of things to buy once I pay taxes. Finally, though this isn't really an electronic, my trusty Hyundai Accent died, forcing me to buy a new car.

Other events this year included two cousin's weddings, a trip to Disneyland, discovering goodies at my farmer's market, the rapture, the return of 90s TV shows, learning to drive stick shift, paragliding, getting my 6th piercing, not cutting my hair (it's super long!), a power outage, and getting more fish. It's been a very full year, and I'm proud to say I achieved the goals I set for myself at the beginning. I'm also happy to be looking forward to 2012, taking steps to accomplish my new goals, and sitting with my boyfriend and a bucket of popcorn as we watch people flip out over the Mayan calendar prediction.

Why I Love The Oatmeal

As far as internet comedians go, The Oatmeal is easily one of my favorites. I started going to the website for the grammar and stayed for the ridiculousness.

The Oatmeal combines silly cartoons of dinosaurs (and other, non-extinct, animals) with intelligent observations on life. I mean, the guy made a guide on how to pet a kitty. And it's completely accurate. And hilarious! Outside of grammar my favorite comics are called Minor Differences. I look at them at work sometimes and have to try very hard to not literally lol (Part 4 is my favorite).

Also, I found out The Oatmeal is a runner. And not just the I'm-gonna-take-a-quick-jog type of runner. He ran a 50 mile ultra marathon. Through mountains. That's hardcore running.

So not only is The Oatmeal a funny and insightful comic, but he brings awareness of our wonderful language to the masses (if you use the wrong you're/your on Facebook you better believe I'm judging you) and he's apparently a very active person. Props to you, Mr. Oatmeal. And please post things more often.

Love=Anxiety

No anxiety here!

Every so often I'll get this knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sometimes it's because I'm super anxious about something, but sometimes it's because I'm in love with life. When I recognized that it's the same exact feeling, just with very different associations attached to it, I started wondering what makes it one and not the other. I'll get that feeling and attribute it to being in love with my city after a few days of being annoyed with my position in life; these times it's an unexpected but very welcome respite in what can be a dreary week.

Spurring this lovely respite was running my first 5K with my favorite lady in the Race for Autism. We were in Balboa Park, my favorite part of San Diego, in the foggy early morning with thousands of other supporters and fellow runners. Despite starting things off seeing a nasty fender bender over a not-so-desirable parking space, and then having to run my bag back to the car (we didn't realize how far away we'd parked until then) 10 minutes before it started because there was no bag check (which, honestly, how do you not have a bag check?), we were really happy to be part of everything. Because of the whole bag thing we started the run 5 minutes late and had to make our way through hordes of walkers with dogs and strollers, but it made us feel like champs to pass that many people throughout the course. When we finished we were given water and fruit and walked around the rows of booths providing a wide variety of professional resources for parents of those with autism, ranging from medical research to after-school enrichment. Then we trekked through lovely Banker's Hill back to the car and made a delicious breakfast before heading off for shopping. Rounding out the day with sushi with friends and going home still drunk made me a happy camper.

That happiness rubbed off on today and, though all I did was work, I felt in love with life. It was overcast and sprinkling raindrops, good songs were on the radio and I got excited for my plans next week. Again, I was asked why I don't move back to my hometown. These last couple of weeks have made it even more impossible for me to imagine leaving my wonderful city in order to move back there. I may not always live in San Diego, but if I leave it'll be for another amazing city I haven't lived in yet (Seattle's been sounding awesome lately). There's so much to love here: the vastly different neighborhoods, the food, the beautiful weather, Balboa Park, the nightlife, the people watching, the beaches, the friendliness of others and the abundance of running trails and dog parks.

But I still wonder... what makes that knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach feel like love? Or anxiety? Just like there's plenty to love, there's plenty to be anxious about, namely that I've now been job searching, heavily, for three months with no relief, that the job I do have is getting ridiculously out of control in the mismanagement, and that my poor computer– despite constantly outperforming no matter how much I abuse it– is definitely on the fritz.

Still, today that feeling was unmistakably one of love.

13.1

I'm in orange.

Yesterday I ran 13.1 miles– more than I've ever run– in 2 hours and 5 minutes (and 38 seconds, but who's counting?). Today I can barely move.

The event was the San Diego Zoo's Safari Park Inaugural Half Marathon. I raced in a group of 3,500 in order to raise funds to build a new tiger habitat. Though, I wonder how much of our fees actually go to tigers: we got a technical t-shirt (which is the coolest thing ever!), a finisher's medal, fruit, and as much Powerade as we wanted, not to mention paying employees to be there early, equipment to set up water stations, mile markers, a permit to shut down a busy road, winner medals (and the awesome stuffed-animal cheetahs they won), and extra employees to attend to the crowd. We probably raised well over $200k, but I still wonder. Regardless, it was an amazing experience and one I definitely want to do next year.

The biggest pitfall with this run was that it was the same day as daylight saving time. So not only did I have to be up super early, I had to do so on a day I lost an hour of sleep. And, since I'm just this lucky, I woke up in the middle of the night (I'd had a LOT of water right before bed) just in time to see the clock change from 1:59am to 3am. Less than 2 hours later we (my mom came for moral support) were up.

There's only one road leading into the Park and it's only one lane. But there's 2 ways to get to that road, and I knew the one no one else would be taking, which got us into the parking lot in record time (I don't know how 3k+ cars made it on those roads and into the limited parking lot space...). Gear check, potty break, bib on and I was good to go. There was a morning DJ kind of guy with a mic doing his best to get people pumped. There were girls in sequined skirts, groups wearing animal-themed outfits, a guy in a condor costume, and two men in matching zebra and tiger striped leggings, as well as many wearing the orange shirts. The sun started to break, 7am came and we were off.

Somehow the weather was perfect for the run. The sun was out for a while, letting my hands thaw, but after a while the sun retreated behind cloud cover and mist. While the sun was still rising we ran down a road lined with orchards, horse corrals and cow pastures. One house had a large field behind it and a white horse, backlit by the rising sun, ran alongside the fence as cows mooed beyond. It was a beautiful sight and a few people near me took pictures with their phones. The course was a lot hillier than I expected but I told myself to not stop on hills, no matter what. I broke that resolve for a few seconds on the last hill– it looked longer than it was, and because it was steep I gave in halfway up. A man on the sidelines shouted encouragement: "This is the top, you're there." A girl next to me told him he'd better be right and we both picked up running again. He was, we were over the last hill. The medic was stationed at the peak of that hill (which was a point we passed twice), and at the bottom were residents of a neighborhood we invaded cheering us on. One man turned to wave, tripped and fell. He rolled like a hero in a video game, popped right back up, and waved again to the small crowd saying he was alright. His buddies, running alongside him, joked that he'd have to go back up the hill if he needed the medic, and that he should tell others he was saving someone from a lion.

Around mile 10-11 I had to stop for a few more seconds to give some relief to my hip and to adjust my shoe. All together, including walking through the water stations, I stopped running for less than 2 minutes. The last mile seemed much longer than a mile, but when I saw that 13 mile marker I started running fast. I powered through and the last .1 miles was almost sprinting. I saw my time on a giant clock and had a huge grin as I passed the finish line. I knew I'd finish before 2:30, and I secretly wanted to finish before 2:15, but I never guessed I'd finish at 2:05. I accepted my finisher's medal, a bottle of water and Powerade, found my mom (who promptly took my very sweaty picture) and just tried to keep from collapsing. My legs were shaking and there were so many people (over a thousand finished before me) crowding the area that there was no room to walk it off.

Once I regained my composure (and took my zebra stampede photo) I started to feel good. I headed over to see if I could find my former co-workers/fellow runners, and hopped on the one morning caravan that hadn't sold out yet. I finally introduced my mom to the best job ever (she was excited to meet my giraffe and rhino friends) and once the sun came out we started to forget our cold and enjoy the day.

When we were home I took the world's greatest shower, ate a plate-full of pasta and vegetables, and we lay down for a nap. More than 4 hours later we woke up, still exhausted, and I devoured a giant plate of nachos. A day later and I'm still exhausted, and now with very sore legs. But I feel accomplished that I ran a half marathon. This is a race I want to make a tradition, and next time I run I want to beat 2 hours.

One Bad Turn

When in doubt, post lolcats.

We often ask ourselves, or at least I often ask myself, why bad things happen all at once. It feels like one bad turn deserves another and if they were somewhat more spaced out they wouldn't all feel like so much bad. If they didn't happen all at once they would be more manageable, would seem more like unpleasant blips, and wouldn't leave us (or is it just me?) sinking in quicksand.

Not that I'm sinking in quicksand.

But maybe it's not that the bad things happen all together so much as we (goddammit, I) just notice the unpleasant blips in a more significant way when life leaves us feeling run down. Maybe it's all unpleasant little blips and the only reason we notice them is because of our reaction to them. And sure, some really are bad things. I've said several times– much more than I intended– how much it sucked (and continues sucking) to be dumped by my dad. But I can't help but wonder if that's affected the way I reacted to others. The months I spent discovering my dad's increasingly deeper level of alienation were also months I spent entirely uncertain about my relationships with guys, including one I fell for but was cruelly (at least in my head) made aware things wouldn't progress, and one who wanted to be with me who I ended up rejecting (somewhat cruelly). Did my pain over my dad cause me to cling even tighter to the one who was there before I was disowned, making the eventual non-break-up sting even more? Would I have been as upset had the whole father fiasco never happened?

Who knows. It's utterly impossible to look at the situation with an objective eye.

As the matter stands now, I started the new year with the best intentions of doing what's best for me. So far I've made a ton of accomplishments and it's only February. I'm proud of myself. This year holds immense promise, promise so tangible I'm just waiting for what's certain to come. Yet, as I've said before, waiting kills. I ended up rekindling things with the one I'd rejected, which has been an additional bright spot in the last couple of months, though it doesn't help that we see each other somewhat rarely. Between that, being publicly ignored by my dad at my cousin's wedding, and getting drunk "I miss you" texts at 3am, it definitely feels like unpleasant blips happen all at once.

Maybe I'm looking for something to blame for my confusion or am just getting carried away with the self psychology. The good news is March is right around the corner and I'm very excited about it. In March I celebrate some special birthdays, my favorite Irish holiday and, most exciting of all, my half marathon. Running has been my most constant source of happiness this year and I'm thrilled with how far I've come and how far I imagine I can go. Those thoughts make me happy.

Sense Of Accomplishment

Today I woke up and ran 11 miles.

Fuck yeah

BRING ON THE RACE!

That is all.

The Month Of Love

Ah, February. Are you the reason I got that lovin' feeling when I left my apartment tonight, even though I was just going to work? Yeah, I didn't think so either.

But what caused it? Is all this running influencing my endorphins? Am I excited about making some positive changes? Or am I thinking about the prospect of going back to the job that made me the happiest I've ever been? Or could it just be all the heart decorations in windows, fresh flowers in grocery stores, and an extra lovey kitty?

Chuchumia brightens your day.

It's no wonder I'm such a happy camper the last few days– there's so much to be excited for! My family is coming to visit next weekend, I have Super Bowl Sunday off for like the second time in a decade, I get to sleep in tomorrow as late as I want, I'm happy about my living situation, and my future suddenly seems not so far away. And I'm excited about it, looking forward to it, like my life is a book that I simultaneously want to finish because I can't wait to find out how it ends but also want to go slowly and enjoy the experience because it's such a good one. Plus, I feel super accomplished every week just for running, and got a nice reward today when a shirtless guy ran past me with his two beautiful Weimaraners. Trying to keep up with them was far more motivating than any song on my iPod could be.

Then there's the job prospect. I'm not sure about returning to photo caravans. On the one hand, I loved that job so much and was retardedly happy that summer. But on the other hand, I still have nightmares about flightline and the anxiety makes me really not want to go back. But again on the one hand, maybe I need to remind myself that there are people at the Park who care about the animals and the guests. And maybe it would be good to go back to the place that makes me happy... After all, there's nothing in the world better than seeing giraffes and rhinos every day, or being around people who are as excited about it as I am.

See how happy I was? That was every day.

So we'll see. If I go to grad school and can't find a "real" job this might be a good opportunity. I'd just need to get over that pesky anxiety...

Serious Business

Serious cat is serious.

February is the month of love. February is also black history month. But for me, February is serious business.

And what better way to get the point across than with pictures of cats I found on the Internet?

This month my to do list has some important bullet points: peak in my running (2 weeks!), take a terrifying test (5 days...), get my shit together (3 weeks), get through a wedding (1 week), and get a new job (3 weeks). All of these things have to be done this month. The job only has to be found this month for my sanity, but my sanity is a pretty big deal. So for the next few days I'm swearing off the Internet, for the most part (I do have an addiction, after all), and spending my waking non-working non-football-celebrating moments studying and being otherwise productive. Important things are happening. I gotta try my best to not fuck it up.

Positive Thinking

I can go here any time I want.

I've got it pretty good.

It's very difficult to live in such a beautiful part of the world and not appreciate life. Going to the beach and seeing the bright sun setting over waves and dogs in January, having Balboa Park so close to my spacious apartment, living in the center of urban San Diego, living in a city others dream of visiting one day, having such an intimate knowledge of the things to do every day makes me feel very alive.

I really don't have a whole lot to complain about. (Not that that ever stops me.) Sure, I could use a job that provides full-time work, regular working hours, and a decent wage. But I do like my job, so it's not all bad. Plus, I can feel the next opportunity almost as if it were tangible. It's right there. Any day I'm going to get a phone call and I'll rock the interview. Every day that passes just means it's getting closer to that day.

But in the mean time, there's plenty to keep my spirits up about life outside employment.

1. San Diego is awesome. I've been asked why I don't leave and move closer to my family but I couldn't imagine leaving my city for my hometown. I'll leave someday, I know that. But for something better. For San Francisco, New York, London, Seattle, Zurich, or even Granada.

2. My friends are the best. I have so much support from them and their faith in me is the best form of encouragement. It's great to know that on any (albeit rare) night I'm off and have nothing to do a quick phone call can change everything. I've also been wearing a bracelet a student gave me to remind myself that I have a positive effect on others. I feel like Jim Carrey in The Mask: "You love me, you really love me!" God, I would stop breathing from laughing so hard at that movie.

3. I got ZOONOOZ in the mail. I've been getting annoyed at the previous tenant not forwarding her mail, but getting that magazine with a giant picture of my favorite crane on the cover made me super excited. It's the little things.

I want a dress modeled after this bird.

4. My high school boyfriend joined Facebook. His profile picture is super punk/emo, with long hair in front of his face, black clothes, insecure smirk and sarcastic comments on all photos, and 2 albums of him posing with his punk girlfriend (the one who apparently cheated on her boyfriend, his best friend, with him), making hard core hand gestures. I know it's been, like 7 years, but damn. I dated that. But it does make me feel pretty good about myself.

5. There has been some good new music out lately. One of San Diego's radio stations, FM 94.9, plays a good amount of underground and new music that hasn't hit the mainstream yet, and most of it is pretty amazing and ends up hitting the mainstream. It's also a good feeling to listen to a song, think how much I like it, and then realize it's by an artist I already liked.

6. Finally, training for this half marathon feels incredible. Every week I run further than I've ever run in my life, every week I'm breaking my own record, every week I'm doing more than I thought was possible with my body. I wasn't ever really a runner, but would sort of jog around just to get some exercise on occasion. Having this goal (and for a cause I'm all for) forces me to not quit, blisters be damned. Facing every week knowing I have to run 7 or 8 or 9 miles (up to 11 next month) is daunting, and then on top of that after every peak I have to keep building up to and passing that mark in preparation for the next peak. But then I do, and I feel amazing. My legs are looking good, and if I have to have big thighs at least they'll be muscular. 13 miles still sounds really hard, but I'll be wearing this epic (orange!!!) shirt with the marathon logo, will be running alongside 3,000 others and will get a participation medal at the end, which will encourage me to just not stop. And maybe after I've done this half marathon a full marathon won't feel so impossible.

Plus, little fuzzface here has been extra loving lately.

Fall Is Here!

Get ready, California. It's fire season!

San Diego may not have realized it was summer until August, but boy come September and it's already excited about fall.

OK, I may be projecting my excitement on a city, but there is a change in the air.

Some people say that San Diego has only one season: summer. Or, mostly summer. And sure, we don't get snow and our streets aren't lined with fallen leaves (they're lined with palm and pine, instead), but those people don't notice the more subtle changes of the seasons. Going for a run in the mornings is a lot more comfortable since the temperature dropped, and the gathering of dark clouds over my neighborhood the other day (with a bonus of sprinkles!) made taking my car in for work almost not completely miserable. And then I remembered all the amazing things fall brings, like apples! And fall beer! And pumpkins! And orange things! And my birthday! And fog! And warm clothes! And hats! And Halloween!

And Oktoberfest!

Fall also means I can drink tea without it being uncomfortably warm. And light candles for the mood and for warmth. And I won't have to add ice cubes to the fish tank. And the cat will shed less. And I can wear just a sweatshirt. And I can cuddle with blankets on the couch. And maybe it'll rain, and I can listen to it fall in the street right outside my window.

Not to mention, this fall will hopefully bring some new opportunities. And that I'm definitely ready for.

I Was Runnang!

Ridiculously happy.

Now, I'm not a long distance runner, a sprinter, I didn't do track and field in high school (but I did a pathetic year in 5th grade), and I'm not training for a marathon or have any real desire to actually do a marathon (26 miles? Why?). But boy did I miss running.

Right before Easter I twisted my ankle. I figured it wasn't a big deal and the pain would go away in a day or two. Three months later I was still wrapping it and taking it easy (probably should have actually seen someone about it, but I is broke). I also had zero motivation to go running because there was nowhere awesome to go... just some crappy little grass square that had a bunch of signs saying it was for the sole use of the tenants of the condo complexes surrounding it. Lame.

But then I moved back to Hillcrest, and oh my goodness I have Balboa Park. I went for my first run in over 3 months a week ago and it felt FANTASTIC. Like the world was a happy place. Like I was a happy person. Like everything was going right. Like I just had amazing sex. So. Good. And believe me, I would have come straight to the computer and written to you all about how fantastic it was to not only go running again, but to go running in the most beautiful of city parks in my favorite neighborhood in America's Finest City, but, alas, I did not have the Internet (see previous post).

For the last week I've run every other day and it feels wonderful. I've even incorporated this beautiful old foot bridge into my run and I go by a cafe/sandwich shop I want to spend insane amounts of money in. I'm back with all these other runners, walkers, dog owners, yoga masters, and bocce ball players, and I feel like I belong.