Sunday, July 31, 2011

Excerpts

I sometimes hate to admit that I sort of like watching the Jersey Shore. I don't even know if I can explain why I like it. The first time I saw it, I couldn't get through an entire episode, but I somehow ended up watching the train wrecks that make the show on a regular basis. When I heard that two of the cast members had written books, I was shocked. When I found out that one of them was on the New York Times Bestseller list, my heart sank. It meant that this is what people want, not substance.


I'm wondering if an editor was used at all for her book. At first I thought a ghostwriter must have written the book for her, until I read a few excerpts. I don't know if it's for show, or if the girl really thinks "And bacne." and "Not fat at all." are complete sentences.


Excerpts from A Shore Thing by Snooki (Nicole Polizzi)


“He had an okay body. Not fat at all. And naturally toned abs. She could pour a shot of tequila down his belly and slurp it out of his navel without getting splashed in the face.”
“Yum. Johnny Hulk tasted like fresh gorilla.”
“Any juicehead will get some nut shrinkage. And bacne. They fly into a ‘roid rage, it is a ‘road’ ‘roid rage.”
“Gia danced around a little, shaking her peaches for show. She shook it hard. Too hard. In the middle of a shimmy, her stomach cramped. A fart slipped out. A loud one. And stinky.”
“Gia had never before been in jail. It wasn’t nearly as gritty and disgusting as she’d seen on TV prison shows. The Seaside Heights drunk tank — on a weekday afternoon — was as clean and quiet as a church.”
“I love food. I love drinking, boys, dancing until my feet swell. I love my family, my friends, my job, my boss. And I love my body, especially the badonk.”

I don't want to bash anyone, but this is the trend these days. People want what sells, and apparently, things lacking information sell. 
It's hard to explain why the above was accepted immediately and the following was rejected many, many times before someone finally took a chance. 

Excerpts from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling:
"Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you..."
"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" said Harry sarcastically. 
"Well, I had one that I was playing Quidditch the other night," said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "What do you think that means?"
"Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," said Harry, turning the pages of 
The Dream Oracle without interest.
"You know your mother, Malfoy? The expression on her face - like she's got dung under her nose? Is she like that all the time or just because you were with her?" 

I remember reading somewhere that Catch 22 was rejected something like 35 times before it was finally picked up by a publisher. 

Because Mike "The Situation" used "gravitational pull" in this excerpt, I'm going to make an assumption that he might have had some help with the writing, unless he secretly studies while his friends are on the dance floor. It's hard to tell if he would be this kind of writer when he tends to speak in overly simplified sentences with a "you know" thrown in at every opportunity. 


Hum, after reading that, I suddenly have this song stuck in my head:

Well, I'm certainly not saying I'm a genius when it comes to writing. On the other hand, I think I have something important to say. I just hope a publisher will see that. 

In other news...

The stiffness and pain in my foot are frustrating me. It does seem to be getting a tiny bit better. However, when the sharp pain, weakness and stiffness seize my foot, it depresses me. I'm overly focused on every twinge, and the nervy stuff makes twinges more common. 

Sigh. 

It's late, but I can't seem to sleep, despite being extra tired. There's too much on my mind lately. 

I'll leave you with something that makes me smile when things like this get me down. It's an excerpt from an article about Stephen King, when he gave his opinion on the whole Twilight phenomenon. At least someone is brave enough to tell it like it is, despite the great sales of these books. 

Here he compares Stephanie Meyer to J.K Rowling: 
King compared the Mormon author to JK Rowling, saying that both authors were "speaking directly to young people". "The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn. She's not very good," he told an interviewer from USA Weekend.
I had a friend who wrote a blog post on Twilight. It was one of the most hilarious things I have ever read. I should see if I can find a link to it. 

Friday, July 29, 2011

I'm Glad I'm Not a Horse

If a horse had what I did, the outlook would be foggy-try again later at best. Fortunately, even when the navicular is involved, it doesn't mean anyone needs to be put down. Actually, horses are rarely put down for navicular syndrome, but treatment is controversial and it often seems that nobody can agree on either what it is or how to treat it. In humans, problems with the navicular joint usually mean a stress fracture or osteoarthritis. I had the latter, and was given a variety of possible treatments that ranged from doing nothing to fusing my bone together. I am soooo glad I didn't allow anyone to do that! Despite the many little set-backs, I still think the surgery was a success. It's just a matter of making sure I'm not hurting my foot in any new way. I think more rehab is needed, but today my foot felt the slightest little bit better. To me, that is a HUGE relief, despite still struggling with it.

Horse 













Human







I was getting severe SHARP pain lately. It was hard to tell if it was the nerve stuff or something new. My foot felt weak, and I couldn't put my full weight on it. I had that sinking feeling in my stomach that something really wasn't right again. I have an apt on Aug 16th, but I'm incredibly relieved that it's feeling a tiny bit better. It has been hard to know what to do. It's difficult to know what kind of pain is OK to push through, and what kind of pain should lead to resting and pampering. It seems with tons more stretching and easy, careful manipulations, things are improving. Wheww.

Man, I am tired. I'm heading into a LONG stretch of no days off for a long while at work, and I'm already beat. I kind of need to sleep better, but there has been so much on my mind. Plus, I think my hormones are all screwy this month. I know, I know- like that is anything new. At least I'm not getting my period every two weeks this time. Still, I can tell I'm in that grumpy, tired, I want to either take a nap or punch someone in the face mode.


In unrelated news...


I seem to think about death less the healthier I am, but it still trips me out. Perhaps the biggest lesson I learned after the meningitis was that life goes on and everyone is replaceable. In many ways, this makes me sad. I'm not saying people won't be missed, but I did notice that the world continues to spin with or without any one person's participation. People continue to do their thing, businesses keep functioning and things go on rolling along whether or not I'm there to watch it. There was one day after I got out of the hospital that had a big impact on me. Countless times I had walked through the Bookend cafe to get to work, often with my mind wandering or in a daze, sort of asleep at the wheel, not really thinking about anything at all, just going through the motions. My first day back, I was aware that nothing had stopped with my absence. For weeks, I had entered a place far away from the crowds, fighting for my life, and the world had gone on without me. It brought me to tears when I walked through the doors where I work, not so much because I felt sorry for myself, more because it was difficult to step back into the world after being away. I was flooded by feeling glad to be back, but also overwhelmed at the thought of stepping back into things. Mostly, I was sad knowing that there will be so much I will miss when I'm gone. I don't mean I will miss it, like I'd be sitting on a cloud...or elsewhere longing for good times on Earth, because, as I said, I will be gone. What I mean is that I know I will miss out on getting to be a part of the world when I'm gone, obviously. One wonders what advances, discoveries, sights and experiences one will miss. I think this is a common reaction for anyone who has been dangling from a thread, about to fall off the face of the Earth, and then suddenly and unexpectedly gets yanked back onto the hard ground.


I'm ignoring all the google ads about self publishing. Fuck you google!

I just finished a few little rewrites on the manuscript, and though I'm sure some editing could improve things, it's close to where I want it now. it will never be exactly what I think it could be, but I heard that you should stop when   you feel like you're 80 percent done. That applies to artists painting, runners doing workouts and writers writing. Too much work leads to paintings getting over-worked and muddy, runners over-training and getting tired, and writers going too far as well, boring the readers, instead of intriguing them. I hope that's correct, because that's about how I feel- 80 percent done.

While I was at the Humane Society yesterday, I was attaching cards promoting the Cause for Paws Race to adoption pamphlets. The race is Sept 10th. On Sept 9th-15th, SmithKlein Gallery will donate 10 percent of sales of art by certain artists to the Humane Society, so it's a great week to purchase a little sculpture by Louise Peterson or a nice painting by Jessica Garrett, Matt Abraxas or Bryce Widom. There are also some wonderful options by Sergey Cherep, Sydney Lynch and D. D. LaRue.




Wow- I was searching for this song forever! Somehow it's stuck in my brain lately, but I'm not complaining.







Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Rewriting

I took the plunge. The article on the internal temperature of a cooked egg will have to wait. I'm going for the rewrite.

I decided to share another little snippet from the book. Feedback is always welcome.

This is the paragraph that ended up being one of my favorites. I think it's because it describes the moment my life changed. It was such a profound moment in my life, and I know falling into anorexia isn't as black and white for some. For me, it happened in an instant, despite the fact that I didn't know the road I would be taking, only that things were going to change. I could feel it. (I kind of just stole that from Beck.)

This was after something really awful had just occurred:

I tossed the incident over and over in my mind until I was sick of it. The drugs and alcohol were wearing off and I was becoming more aware of myself. Amber and I bought our tickets and parted ways. As I was walking to the bus stop for a ride home, I felt a surge of energy and hope. Then, in an instant, I decided to change. My life was going to be different. I was going to take control. I put forth an intention out into the universe that was so loud and clear, so heartfelt and determined that it couldn’t be denied. I was going on a diet!


I'll also share part of the chapter in which I go over the edge with training. Unlike the moment in which I became anorexic, the over-training obsession came on more gradually:



After the Pikes Peak race, with another cross-country season just a month away, my coach told me to take a week off. I was frantic at the thought of resting, knowing that my daily routine would be disrupted. My body was tired, but my mind was overly active and I was becoming agitated. I rode my bike to ease some of the tension of complete rest and ran a little, so I wouldn’t forget how to run in a week. I was so thoroughly tired of this tedious lifestyle that I wished I would get hit by a car, yet even when given the permission to have a break, I couldn’t do it.  I just wouldn’t allow myself the rest I craved; I couldn’t even take a full week off at the request of my coach, a man I respected and trusted at the time.
After another undefeated season with a few course records in place, I entered the state meet with confidence. Somewhere along the crazy route of compulsive running, I had emerged an intense competitor. Though I was meek and kind off the track, I was fiery and wild in competition, often making extremely bold moves like darting to the far outside to pass people on the track or leading races in full head winds. My goal was not only to win but to push myself as hard as I could. Even if I was in the lead, I wouldn’t allow my pace to slow. I won the state meet and soon after became the first high school girl in Colorado to ever qualify for nationals in cross-country.
The national race took place in California. I was shocked when I walked into a room of 35 other girls just like me. All of us had dreams of the Olympics or various other running titles. I was sad at the thought that I wasn’t anything special here. However, I offered myself some comfort knowing that none of these girls were the kind of mountain runner I was. The race was intense and I fell into last place from the start. I worked my way up to the middle of the pack by passing as many girls as possible in what I considered to be a short race. I wasn’t exactly happy with the 15th place finish, but I also knew the 5k was not the best distance for my running ability. Despite my middle-of-the-pack performance I figured, with yet more training, I could improve and possibly even win the next year.
I was heading into the winter with even more determination than before to train harder. Then without warning as I was on a trail run with my coach, he dropped a bomb. He flat out said I was out of control. He gave me an ultimatum; either I take a break and train according to his plan or I was off the team. That was it. There was no talk of compromise or ideas on how to help me do just that, it was an either-or situation. What could I do? I was hurt and felt rejected. Plus, I was already down in it and unable to retreat, so I took the “I’ll show you” road and decided to train on my own.
For my coach, there came a point where he knew I was lying about my training and eating. He was forced to step back and throw his hands in the air, because there was nothing he could do. I was so headstrong that I couldn’t hear his concern for my health and worry about my overtraining. I was convinced he was using reverse psychology in order to motivate me to train harder when, in reality, he was trying to prevent another injury or illness. At one point the following year he agreed with my parents that I should see a counselor which I did for several months, but before then I was determined to do things my way. Ultimately, my coach always had my best interest at heart, but because I was so caught up in the illness, I couldn’t see that. I continually focused on random comments not just from him but from others around me that supported my distorted thinking. Anything that didn’t fall into my warped sense of reality, I either discarded or ignored.
I spent the next few weeks building up my mileage on an increasingly sore foot. My limp was visible, but didn’t come close to stopping my training of up to 90 miles a week plus biking, one swim session and weight training. I felt so lost at the time, but was convinced that my only option was to run more. Eventually, the continual strain on my pelvis from the improper landing of my sore foot caused my pubic bone to fracture. In the middle of a run, I felt a shooting pain so intense I thought someone was stabbing me. Rather than stop though, I hobbled the rest of the five miles back to school. I continued to train, wrapping my entire pelvis in ace bandages to lessen the severe pain. I could hardly walk down the stairs at school, yet I refused to stop running. The pain was terrible and often I would cry on my runs. Eventually after much arguing, I allowed my parents to take me to see a doctor. The fracture was no hairline mark on the x-ray. Instead, it was a big fat line right there on my bone that was approaching a full break.
The news hit me like a freight train; if I didn’t stop, I might never run again. I tried desperately to quit running, but I was a mess and couldn’t make it through the day. I lost focus in school and spent most of my days crying. Even when I did attend class, I couldn’t concentrate. I was terrified to eat, and when I did eat, I cried out of fear of gaining weight. Finally, it was decided I needed help. I was taken out of school and put in a mental hospital for teenagers. On my first day there, the other kids and I sat in a circle and introduced ourselves and stated why we were there. Most of the kids were experimenting with drugs, having trouble at home or stealing things, many of the very things I had been doing at age 13. When it came to be my turn, I thought how strange the situation was and almost had to laugh, because my response seemed so silly, “I’m Lize and I can’t stop running.”

Monday, July 25, 2011

Calgon - take me away?

I'm tired, but I can't sleep lately.

Last week was crazy. I had too much to do. Somehow, I managed to get through it, but I feel like I'm a zombie, checking things off my "to do" lists daily. Unfortunately, the lists keep getting longer. Actually, I don't think zombies typically have much to do besides stumble around and eat people. Anyway, I just mean that my brain is in a fog. I need a day with no obligations, but that's not happening. Today would have been the perfect day, but I scheduled a PT session and then some other things came up as well. So, instead of sleeping until 10 and then lounging around until I got the urge to do something, I was up at 8, which is actually sleeping in a little, and I am mentally going through all the things I need to do.

Despite my foot not feeling right, I ran a little time trial on Friday- that same one I did shortly after I was able to run again. I did it faster, even though I felt like I was struggling. It was hot, I was tired blah blah. The faster time made me happy. On the other hand, I can't put full weight on my foot, and that's not good. This occurred after one extremely intense PT session early in the week. In the session after that, I had one of those mini and unexpected meltdowns. I was trying to explain the pain, and next thing I know, I can't even speak and I've got tears rolling down my face. Once again, I was spending so much time and effort just getting through the days that I wasn't processing anything. Sigh.

I feel like I'm at odds with everyone. I've sort of been craving isolation, but also some company. Mostly I'm just craving some calmness. It was nice on Friday to go out with a friend for drinks, even though I'm a total lightweight and could only tolerate half a beer before feeling tipsy. I think I've had a total of 1 beer in the last year. I won't go into all the details of why I have stayed away from booze so much. There are a few reasons. Thursday was fun too. I guess the weekend was just tough, because I was doing too much and very tired.

Here's the big question: Should I rewrite my book......again?


It's funny; when I first wrote it, I was super stoked and thought it was pretty good. Then my agent told me to rewrite it and make it twice as long, so I did. I realized it was not as good as I thought, but it was my first attempt at writing. Plus, I finished it! It was better, but still full of mistakes and a bit disjointed. I gave it to a few people to read at this point, despite knowing it was far from what it was going to be with editing and rewrites. While I was having some editing being done on it, I was also adding to it. Giving it to others was a stupid move. I'm not sure why I did, but I guess I was trying to give people sort of the gist of it. After a few rounds of editing, it was better still, so my agent went for round two of submissions to publishers. That was a long time ago though, and after posting that little snippet in my blog the other day, I realize that I have grown a bit as a writer. I think it could be better. Actually, I kind of cringed reading it, knowing that it still needs editing. So, do I tell my agent, and hope that the market isn't completely saturated by the time I finish, or keep letting her shop it around and hope I can rewrite/edit it before it's published? I don't know. "Writing is rewriting" as they say, but is there enough time? 

Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be writing an article about the internal temperature of a fucking hard boiled egg, while my mind is drifting to my book. I wish I could get paid to write blog posts or work on my book. Sigh.

Oh, and this has nothing to do with anything, but I want this bathtub so badly!
It looks like a boat!

I think putting that thing in random places, just so I could sit in it and look like I'm going somewhere would be awesome.
While I'm at it, I would like the rest of my bathroom (even though I don't even have a house) to look like this- all by Villeroy Boch:
OMG! The toilet is like a fat little marshmallow! 
This is a company I love. I actually have a few cute little bowls by Villeroy Boch. In fact, I have this very one:
Love it!
Ok, I'm off to stumble through another day.


ETA:  M & I decided that the tub needs wheels and a steering wheel. That would be awesome! 

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Friday July 22nd

SmithKlein Gallery in Boulder is hosting a presentation by Ken Rogers. Ken will be bringing his dog, Kandu, who had his two front legs amputated. Stop in the gallery to hear Kandu's amazing story of survival. The presentation will be from 5-6:30PM on Friday July 22nd. SmithKlein is located at 1116 Pearl Street in Boulder, Co. on the Pearl Street Mall. For more information, visit their website at www.smithklein.com 

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Racing

I kind of want to race. I also kind of don't want to race. I got all excited, thinking I could jump into something this week, but then all kinds of things happened, including a drop in my confidence, as I realized just how slow I must be these days. A drop in energy has also occurred. I'm not sure if it's because sleep is lacking or things are hectic, but I'm feeling like I want to nap all day. I have no explanation for the desire to eat every 2 hours, but I'm abnormally hungry and cranky lately. Also, some hardcore PT made my foot so sore that I was limping yesterday. Oddly, today it feels a bit better. Still, I all of a sudden can't put my full weight on it when I attempt toe raisers, so I think running in a crowd probably isn't the best idea this week. I mean, do I do it for the sake of doing it with the idea that it's just a hard workout or do I hold off until I can actually really run hard?  :/  Either way, I have to face the fact that I am out of shape and slow- really slow, and that's never easy. And do I really want anyone else to witness that? On the other hand, I'm running. Despite the incredible stiffness I'm experiencing, the pain and the frustration, I am running.

Sigh. So why do I want more?

Monday, July 18, 2011

Selfishness

Addiction is a selfish disease. I mean this in many ways. It's an odd phenomenon that those with an eating disorder can tend to swing from being selfless to being overly selfish, but any type of addiction will cause self absorption and too much self focus. I'm still working on not being all me, me, me all the time. I have definitely come a long way. Even in the past when I was sick, I made an effort. I had a friend tell me that she was impressed that no matter what shit I was wading through, I managed to make at least some effort to be aware and concerned about others.

In the throes of addiction though, there seems to be a big disconnect somewhere. It's like nothing is genuine. Apologies come off as forced and there's a feeling that the person isn't grounded, like there's no true emotion behind anything done. There's a difference between going through the motions and really experiencing something. It makes sense though, because addiction has a lot to do with numbing out and not feeling, so it's not a big surprise that an addict can be cut off from his emotions. Often there's an emotional upheaval when getting to the other side of addiction as the emotions come to the surface, but there are some people who seem to be really good about keeping them at bay, even without any substance to mask what might eventually be uncovered. These are the people who are most likely to relapse. They have learned and probably lived in a way that allowed complete shut down of feelings and emotion. After years of this, it's hard to feel again. The longer it continues, the more out of touch with everything the person becomes. What's right and wrong becomes blurred as the addiction becomes more important. Friends, family and lovers suffer, but to the addict, it's never about them; it's about feeding the addiction. Even though my dad never admitted he was an alcoholic, he knew he had a problem. There were many broken promises to my mom, despite refusing to actually admit he had a problem. Again, there was a disconnect. He was aware on some level, but not willing to change, no matter what the effect on himself and others. I believe in my own case, I eventually became so embarrassed about what I was doing to the people around me, I felt I couldn't continue. Everyone says that getting over an addiction has to be done for the self, but I believe it has to be both. One has to give enough of a shit about others to actually care about actions. Eventually, my recovery became about me, but it didn't start that way. At first, I just wanted to stop hurting my mom, my sister and the friends who had been there time after time while I was dead set on self destructing.

 I used to feel like the world was out to get me. I felt judged at every step. It wasn't until much later in life that I realized most people are just trying to get by, not all that concerned with how some anorexic chick is living. This isn't to imply that people don't care, more to acknowledge that no single person is on center stage at all times.

 As far as the big disconnect, you can go through the motions of recovery, 12 step all you like and keep searching for that magic pill, but it won't work if you don't truly work though it, experience it and push to be outside that familiar comfort zone. Addressing all the crap that makes a person addicted is fine, but there's something more to all of it. As good as it is to look at the past to get an understanding of the causes of the illness, when it started and the potential triggers that have led to slipping down into bad places, I feel it's more important to find tools that will help move forward. I've lost count of how many times someone has told me that the addict in my life "didn't mean to hurt you. It's the addiction" as if the addiction is a separate entity. It's not. My addiction hurt many people in my life, but my addiction was really me. There's this great idea about telling your addiction that the both of you have to share the body, so you better make it work. The thought is that the illness can be recognized, and yet healthy choices can still be made, even when there's a pull from the addiction to go down the wrong path. Ultimately though, the addiction isn't something outside the self. It can definitely feel like it, but it is the dark side of the self. When I could accept this and take responsibility for what I had done both to myself and to others, I was able to begin to move away from the chains that were holding me.

Addiction and the willingness to change have a great deal to do with how much the addictive behavior gets in way of life. That's why some people think hitting rock bottom will promote an upswing. I can't say I agree fully. I bumped along rock bottom for a long, long time before I was able to change. Sometimes I think it was sheer luck that I came out the other side. I know I did a hell of a lot of work, and had to take that first scary jump into the unknown. However, for years and years I was simply stuck, imprisoned in my own fucked up little world, ruled by the dictator in me that was my illness. In the end, I finally saw that I wasn't going to make it if I continued. And I was unhappy, so unhappy. A lady I knew once said, "come over to this side to play! It's fun." She meant be a part of the world again. Somehow I knew I would one day. Even though life can still be a challenge, it's never as bad as it was, ever. Feelings can be a challenge, but I've finally realized that they pass, even when it seems like grief, sadness or fear will engulf me, I know the feelings will eventually change.

I'm sort of leaving my thoughts dangling here, but there's so much to be said about addiction. Sometimes I can only take *talking* about it in small doses.

This may seem inappropriate to get into now, but I have to say that the desserts at Piece, Love and Chocolate continue to impress me.

I was able to sample a few more treats with some friends. I loved them all. They're not overly sweet, which is exactly how I like my desserts. I can't stand that super sweet shock to the teeth that most desserts create. Yuck. These are not like that. They are full of flavor.

The white chocolate cheesecake- insanely good. One of the best cheesecakes I have ever eaten. God- it was sooo creamy and addicting! I could see it served with raspberries, but it stood alone just fine. Soooo perfect.

Chocolate with liquid caramel and salt. The caramel flavor sneaks up on you in a really good, subtle way. The salt is intense, but not overbearing. It's amazing. The unexpected liquid caramel flows over the taste buds, covering them for a spell before the chocolate flavor reemerges. A few thought this was the best of the 4 samples. I liked the cheesecake and mousse cup equally well, if not more.

Chocolate raspberry cake- This was incredible. It has a wonderful natural raspberry flavor, not that gross artificial flavor many respberry treats have. It also has a great texture with a soft chocolate cake and crunchy nuts throughout. The layer of sticky raspberry is in the middle, and it's a nice tart burst that blends nicely with the chocolate.

The chocolate mousse cup- This was ridiculously good. It has a true mousse filling, super soft and creamy, oh so creamy. It's a light chocolate whipped and piped into dark chocolate cups. Wow- the best combination. The dark chocolate cuts the sweetness of the filling so nicely, and I don't mean to imply that the filling is anything other than perfect. I just like the dark cup for added chocolate intensity. I'm not doing justice to how good they were in these little blurbs. They have to be experienced!

The foot is holding up OK. It's very stiff at times, but I ran some good runs last week. Hoping to keep it up this week.

Chocolate raspberry goodness

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Friday July 15th

A friend of mine will be doing a live acoustic set Friday July 15th at SmithKlein Gallery.
Rebecca Abraxas will be singing and playing guitar at 1116 Pearl Street. This is one talented family, as Rebecca's husband, Matt, shows his work at the gallery. Piece, Love and Chocolate will be there handing out samples of fabulous chocolate desserts as well. Things get started at 5PM and wrap up at around 6:30PM.

Yesterday, I bumped into a chocolate demo at Whole Foods. Someone was handing out samples of Justin's peanut butter cups. I had to tell the demo coordinator that I had once sampled those and did a review for a local station, Green Light Radio. I bring this up because:

1. It's chocolate and I can't resist discussing anything chocolate related.
2. The treat stands out as an outstanding product both in terms of quality and flavor
3. The company is awesome. Take a look at their website for more information.

There were several of us there for the review. It was unanimous, everyone loved both the milk and the dark chocolate peanut butter cups. Of course, I had to do what I normally do and mix the two together to get something in between, but I still liked both separately too. If I couldn't mush the two together and had to choose, in this case, I preferred the dark chocolate. One other agreed with me. Two others liked the milk chocolate better, so I guess it was an even split. To me, the dark chocolate was a wonderful change from the usual milk chocolate other companies use, and it's not bitter in any way. It's not as sweet as most peanut butter cups, which I like, and the chocolate is not a thin little layer either- no it's something you can sink your teeth into nicely. This allows you to experience the smooth texture of the chocolate and the solid cocoa taste. I'm not a fan of the super sweet and much too thick peanut butter filling most other chocolate peanut butter cups have. This is much better. The cups are more sophisticated, but I am sure kids will love them too. They are also vegan, organic, fair-trade, and gluten-free. In short...YUM!!! It's a total peanut butter cup upgrade.

*Note- only the dark chocolate cups are vegan, but both are gluten free, fair trade and organic.




As long as I'm plugging cool companies, I went to Roadmasters in Boulder to get my car fixed, and this is the 2nd time I was treated well by them. Many times before, I was really taken for a ride with my car. Several times now, these people have done more work, and charged me less. I'm glad to have found a place where I feel comfortable, because I hate to admit, I don't know a ton about cars. I can change tires, check the oil and give someone a jump start, but, sadly, that's about it.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Let's talk about Sex

Things have been hectic lately. My car was in the shop, and there are some other issues disrupting my thoughts in a big way.

So I thought I would talk about sex and chocolate. ha!

Some time ago, back when I was doing a bit more serious training with a group, a few of us were cooling down after a track workout. We tended to have interesting conversations, and someone brought up horses. Oh wait- this is coming out all wrong. Let me clarify that this part has nothing to do with sex or chocolate! Anyway, two of the girls started comparing people in our group to what horse they would be. For example, Katie would be a thoroughbred, as she is fast and graceful with long legs. There were two strong and powerful girls who always got the job done, so we decided that would translate to a quarter horse in the equine world. My coach at the time was a work horse, but I couldn't figure out what I would be. Finally I asked, and without hesitation, one of the girls said, "Oh, you're an Arab, no doubt." I laughed, and then realized she was right. Shit! The thing about Arabs is that they are a little neurotic, but have endurance. They're unpredictable. When they're on, they're really fucking on, but when they're not, it's an exquisite disaster. She was right. Even my Chinese horoscope insists that those born on my birthday are destined for great success or spectacular failure. I guess I've had a little of both.

The other thing that my Chinese horoscope suggests is that those born on my birthday are intellectually attracted to people. Debate is like foreplay, and a heated discussion can be a turn-on. However, there's more to it than that, of course, as sex is a physical activity. It's like training, only more exciting. I view it almost like a sport. Well, maybe not quite, but it's a good idea to wait an hour after eating before jumping in, don't you think? There was something in my Western horoscope that mentioned compatibility. I'm not sure if these things are true or have any validity, but supposedly an Aquarius paired with a Sagittarius (go figure) is an event that could excite an audience. The exact phrase had something to with with charging admission. The reason I brought up the horse thing is because I also tend to be a little unpredictable when it comes to my sexual appetite. In general though, I have an overly high sex drive. This is the opposite of most of the other girls I ran with. In fact, in another cool down run not long after the horse conversation, a few of the other girls complained that their significant others whined about them having a low sex drive.

It's understandable that training hard can lead to fatigue, and that can affect libido. It's odd that with all my hormonal imbalances and blood tests showing low levels of hormones I would still end up being in the mood more than the average person. But then on rare occasions, my desire drops, and I want to be left alone. Sure, it's fairly rare, but fatigue and a lack of a sex drive can hit me hard. It usually doesn't last, but it happens. The few times where sex really wasn't on my mind was when I was sick with the meningitis and also any time after the surgeries I've had. I guess it's kind of a good thing, because sex to me is a bit of an adventure. It's probably good that I wasn't in the mood while my body was trying to heal and recover. It's a similar thing when you're so sick that you don't feel like running. In some cases, it's a good thing to lose desire in order to achieve solid rest. I should clarify that while I set a record for the longest streak of celibacy ever when I was severely anorexic, I didn't actually lose my desire. I often wonder how other athletes are in this area. Some people have had funny ideas that resisting sex would give a person power in a sport. I can't say I believe this, and haven't found any proof in terms of actual studies. There's no physiological evidence that suggests that refraining from sex can improve performance anyway, so if anyone was worried, go ahead and bang away!

Another odd thing is that with a not so good body image, I never felt overly restricted in getting naked around someone who expressed mutual attraction. There was a time when I was amazed that anyone could find me attractive or my body anything other than disgusting. Sex wasn't as much fun back then, of course, but I still craved it. Now I don't think of it as much. I like my body more now than I did in the past, flaws and all. I'm still floored when anyone even notices me, but I realize that attraction is really not all physical. It took a long, long time before I could accept my body at a higher weight though. As hard as it was letting of of the elite status as an athlete, letting go of the identification of being an anorexic was equally hard if not harder. I still sometimes struggle with it, though not in any limiting way.
Well, onto other things...but first this:
  
beck- sexx laws:




Mmmmm Chocolate! I recently tried the Poco Dolce Bittersweet chocolate, olive oil and sea salt bar. The bittersweet chocolate is just right-not too sweet and no trace of that bitterness that can grab your taste buds in a shocking way. This chocolate lends itself well to the earthy flavor of the California olive oil. I remember once trying a white chocolate and dried olive bar by Vosges that was excellent, but it's not just the flavor that enhances the medium dark chocolate, it's the oiliness of the olive oil added to the chocolate that makes the texture oh so smoooooth. It;s sexy and silky and very addicting. It gives a richness without the feeling of overindulgence. The balance is perfect. That little bit of gray sea salt emerging here and there is just enough to bring out the chocolate flavor, not compete with it. The hazelnut bittersweet bar was good too, but the flavor was a bit more subtle. I like a strong hazelnut flavor, and some texture with it. The idea behind these bars is that they are smooth, and this hazelnut bar certainly is. However, if there's no crunch, I would have preferred the hazelnut to attack my taste buds with a little bit more power. Still, both bars were exceptional.





The foot is very up and down, but PT is helping. I had a great run Monday, but yesterday it was sore at the end of my run. It's stiff, but hopefully no pain today. Whewww.


What an odd post. Oh well. I'm weird.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Grrr

I'm pissed at myself that I didn't go hard Monday. I did one of those medium workouts, not going hard, but not going super easy. Then, I was too tired to go hard Tuesday. And then BOOM! my fucking period shows up after 2.5 weeks. WTF?? Again? No wonder I felt like I wanted to eat a room full of chocolate and started looking like an inflated human peep, all soft and squishy. Gah! I should have known when I went shopping and ended up with 5 chocolate items out of 7 in my cart that something was amiss. Actually, I tend to buy loads of chocolate anyway, but the craving was super intense the other night.

Odd things happen just before I get my period:

Everything hurts
I enter a time warp, and things suddenly seem to take forever, except sleep. I can't seem to get enough, and time suddenly flies when my eyes are closed.
I get extra whiny and crabby
My emotions get the best of me (OK that's nothing new)
I get lazy to the point where I don't really care.
My oversensitivity becomes shocking
I get horny (OK that's nothing new either)

The day I get my period, I generally feel like I've been flattened by a Monster truck, which is where I was just a few days ago. So I was thinking I "need" to do a hard workout anyway, knowing I'd likely feel like shit, or bail completely.

I bailed.

A few days later, after the extra rough day, I was feeling a little better, but still kind of dragging. Stress? That day was bad though. Things were somewhat OK when I decided a workout wasn't going to happen, and I crawled back into bed after a dose of something chocolate. Later though, I had to go to work, and things went from so-so to really fucking crappy. I felt icky, things weren't going well and I just wanted the day to end. The good news is that things do generally get better after a day of complete blah.
I'm not even going to go into all the details of why the day was so awful. Suffice to say that some days just suck. What I don't like is that I lose my confidence when those kinds of days occur. I can tell that lately my confidence is waning anyway. I feel more at ease with everything when I can get through workouts and manage my day a little better. Moving on...

A blog in several disjointed parts. I couldn't log on the last day or so.


I'm still all into the chocolate lately. I even found a really cool blog that the ladies at Piece, Love and Chocolate suggested called Chocolate for Breakfast. I love it!! I shouldn't bypass one of the three chocolate goodies (yes, it was a three chocolate treats day that day-oy) I managed to scarf in a 24 hour period during that bad day. It's called Life Opening Chocolates- ridiculously priced vegan raw chocolate fudge. I'm not sure which of the 7 ingredients is so addicting, but I wanted to eat a large pile of these things. I suppose it was good that I only bought two. At least my pocketbook is thanking me for only buying two when I was tempted to buy more. It's amazing how good this thing was. It has coconut butter, agave, coconut sugar, flax seeds, almonds, cacao powder and sea salt in it, but it tastes like a fudgy chocolate bar. Any coconut flavor is very subtle. It feels slippery on the tongue-in a good way, almost like it's melting. I suppose it's because of the types of oils in it. As far as chocolate treats go, it's not horribly sugary or all that high in fat. The price is a shock, but if I had wads of bills stuffed in my pockets, I'd probably buy these quite often.

Aside from an outrageous cramp I had while conducting an interview with a musician, things have been going relatively well since the bad day. I'm tired, but I got a great PT session in on Thursday. Heather at Avanti Therapy in Boulder is amazing. They all are there, but Heather got my frozen foot to move again. We are in the process of liberating my big toe. It takes some very subtle little exercises that can be a bit painful at times, but they work. Wow! Soon I'll be out of the brace again. I can't wait!
I'm too tired and my head too filled with crap to write a very good post, so I'll leave the rest of my thoughts about sex drive, things I tell myself I could give up if I wanted, training and how I always seem to be unlike normal people for next time.

Here's one things we can all count on- things change.



Monday, July 4, 2011

Change of Plans

My brother always told me that you have to have plan A and plan B. This advice has helped me greatly in life, especially when I was dating someone who tended to be a little bit flaky. It was always so much better to have an alternate plan for when the guy just flat out didn't show. Once he was an hour late, so plan A was still salvageable that time. In general though, it has been good to have a back-up plan ready, just in case. Today was a great example of that.

It's the 4th of July, so everyone on the planet is out running races, getting Barbeques ready or driving to the mountains. My plan was to take the car to do a run up a mountain road. Instead, I locked myself out of the house. This is where plan B came in handy. Fortunately, I also have a safety rule: Always keep at least one pair of old running shoes in the car. I'm a bit careless when it comes to first aid kits, mini tool sets and even spare tires, but I know I can find at least one pair of running shoes in my car at all times. Yay that something went right this morning! Actually two things went right, because my foot held up for an hour easy run without that deep burning sensation in my big toe. There was some minor pulling, but all seems OK. Wheww. Just to note too that two regular bras can do the work of a jog bra, no problem! I won't go into the details of why there was an extra one in my car, as that's generally not one of my standard rules. I just lucked out finding it there. 

Plan A and Plan B are great to keep in mind when it comes to training and racing too. How many times have you been locked out of the track on a day when you had a track workout planned? Last year, I showed up to a race that was held the day before, but was marked on the Colorado race calendar on the wrong day. Instead, I ran a hard workout on the roads. Long ago, a friend of mine and I went to a race in Denver. The course was so icy that we decided to bail. We warmed up, did some strides and went to a coffee shop instead. With the foot issue, I'm always having to think of several options and alternatives for workouts. 

I've noticed a disturbing trend in many women's running blogs lately. There's a tremendous number of whiny I'm so average but look at me  !!! style blogs. Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely not talking about anyone who is simply out there doing their best, running in the middle of the pack and writing about it. (uhh, that's pretty much where I'm at now!) I don't have a problem with that. It's the ones who try to get attention by claiming how lame (not in the sense that they are actually limping like I am) they are, and expect and want everyone to tell them how great they are. I suppose I come down on myself way too hard, but that's the frustration of being where I am compared to where I once was coming to the surface.To help clarify, the blogs I'm talking about all have titles that include one or several of the following words: wannabe, happy, healthy, smiling, active or any random word followed by "on the run". I'm not a fan. I prefer those who tell it like it is in an interesting way. Maybe I'm slightly drawn to the darker side, the obsessed, those who have a tendency to self destruct, loners, addicts and anyone who has at least thought about stepping on the wrong side of the law. Sure it's great that there are millions of happy joggers, but I prefer to read something of substance. That doesn't mean it has to be all gloomy. I'm also drawn to the style obsessed, anyone into animation, people who can play or even those who like bad ass music, anyone who's not afraid to take a nap in the afternoon and those perpetually positive individuals who don't feel the need to inflict their good moods on anyone who's not all smiles.

Ha- wannabe. I actually love the term, but not so much how it's used when it comes to running. It makes me think of this song. Not so cool




And this one too:  Eagles of Death Metal. Very cool.

Happy 4th of July everyone!!



Just ignore this post. I'm grumpy because I want to be able to run hard, and, instead, I'm forced to watch out for my foot.  grrr

Saturday, July 2, 2011

One Among Many

After posting the excerpt, I realize that I have grown a little bit as a writer. I'm no David Foster Wallace and probably never will be, but I see how I could have written my memoirs a little differently. Then again, it was my first attempt at writing, and that was 6 years ago. Hopefully I'm a bit better as a writer now. However, the story is one that I feel needs to be out there, and there are a few passages that still move me deeply.

Yes, my story is not unique. I've read bits and pieces of another blog that seems to be gathering quite a lot of attention lately called She Was Once A Runner. In my own case, I would have to say that there are a few things that make my book different:
1. the severity of my illness.
2. the fact that I'm running again.
3. my recovery.
4. my global approach to the book, interviewing as many people as I could both in the sport and those who had never run.
5 Rather than write a diary, which is interesting but not always informative, I made an attempt to uncover what caused  my eating disorder, looked at the physiology and psychological aspects behind eating disorders, and addressed strategies that worked not just for me, but for others as well.

People often ask me if I would I do things differently if I could go back. Of course I would! On the other hand, I had my moment, and I wouldn't change that. Maybe mountain running isn't as respected a sport as road racing, cross country and track, but how many people can say they were among the top in the world in anything at all, really? I gave it a shot. I 'm glad I did, despite the trouble I had down the road. I suppose I wouldn't change too much if I had a time machine, though I'd attempt a little sanity along the way if it were possible.

6. My book is true. Sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction, and I didn't embellish anything or change the facts. I didn't need to. An occasional name has been changed, but everything else can be verified by at least one other person. I saw and went through some messed up shit in the past.

In the sense that I was a stand out runner, lost my running career to an eating disorder and injuries and eventually disappeared in a sea of mediocrity, yeah, I'm one among many. In how I came back from the near dead? I'm among the very few and know exactly how lucky I am.

In unrelated news, this week I'll be getting some farm fresh eggs in exchange for taking care of a friend's organic garden. I can also help myself to all kinds of lovely vegetables. I'm very excited, because I love eggs. I splurged to relieve some guilt about mistreated hens and bought some from Vital Farms. Apparently the hens at Vital farms get to run around in a real pasture, and come home to sleep in plush hen condos furnished with fancy hay beds. It was worth the extra two dollars to feel better about eating eggs. It must have been a sign that it's the right thing to do, because when I cracked one open, I got a lucky two yolk surprise! And wow- these things are good. I swear there's a difference in taste with quality eggs.

Happy Hens


I've noticed a few other bloggers and friends who are struggling with injuries. Any runner can relate. It's one of those things that happens to everyone, and when you're healthy, you continually knock on wood that it's not you. I remember in college, I was coming off one of many injuries, and some lady had posted a poem about a bird with a broken wing right on the track office door for all to see. It's was a very accurate analogy, but I wasn't in the mood to read about a fucking lame bird. I wanted to run. And yet before our meeting, we had to comment about how great this poem was. I'm not sure why I was so perturbed. I guess being injured takes away that stress outlet. Probably if I had been running well, I would have been more open and accepting of the poem, and it wouldn't have been an issue at all. As it was, it felt like she was rubbing my nose in the fact that I was injured, even though I know she wasn't. I don't even know why I bring this up, but it relates to injuries and how much easier it is to feel happy when running is in the picture, though I have made some progress in feeling OK during times of injury.

Speaking of injuries, the other day I was running after the Dr. told me to go back in the foot brace for a little while again, and I noticed a sharp pain in the 2nd toe on my RIGHT foot! I was thinking, "oh shit, now what??" It dissipated, but occasionally it would flare up. At one point, I yelped, limping a few steps. It felt like glass stabbing into my toe, so I was forced to stop. I thought I could massage it out or something, so I took off my shoe and sock. Guess what I found? Yup- a tiny piece of glass embedded into my toe! I've never been so relieved to see glass in my foot! But at least it wasn't another injury, right? Fortunately, when I pulled it out, all was fine. It didn't even bleed that much, unlike my finger that was munched on by a cat recently. God, I feel like I'm falling apart! 

This is how I feel lately.
I suppose that's supposed to be shocked, but I look at it and think...Oof. Everything seems hard. I'm tired. I'm in pain. It's funny how much I forget about the pain I'm in until I give in and take something to relieve it. I then have a palm to the forehead moment after popping something that floods me with relief and makes me say, "Ahhh, why didn't I do this sooner?" I'm not sure why I'm so stubborn when it comes to pain relief. I guess it has to do with wanting to be both in control and also to know the reality of where things stand.

Well, despite feeling tired today, things are somehow looking up.It's getting late though, so I better head out the door soon. As much as I love the heat, running when it's close to 90 is a bit much. 

Everyone is going to be running races on the 4th. I'll be happy if I can get out the door with less pain. Grrr.