You are correct. My title is from the game Down By the Banks. Of the Hanky-Panky.
You never had a childhood if you don't know what I'm talking about.
What am I saying? I still love playing that game!
Anyhow, it is almost three in the morning on Tuesday the 31st.
I am pretty much all packed up to move to Missouri! All that is missing is some dirty laundry, a few t-shirts for me to wear these next couple days, and all the make up and products I'll need.
I learned to make eclairs . . . !! Not to took my own horn, but they're one of the most amazing things I've ever eaten in my life. Took some serious self-control to not eat all hundred or so.
Speaking of self-control and food . . . if my calculations are correct, I have gained two and a half pounds in the last week in a half. Which was my goal, but gosh, it's depressing. I know I'm now still only fourteen and a half pounds, which is about where I was at during first semester last year, and I know that during first semester I thought I was oh-so awesomely thin at that weight, but now I just feel fat, fat, FAT!
It's horrible. Sigh.
Plus, I'm having some pretty bad bloating which I know makes me look even worse. On the bright side, I think I'm about to start my period, which is good because that was what I was trying to force into existence with with the whole gaining weight.
Great. Now that I've invited you all to share all the finer, more personal details of my life . . .
I'm so excited to move to Missouri! I'm excited to fill all my blank pictures frames and finally have my OWN apartment. And have a job as a waitress! Hopefully.
I need to become more regular on this blogging thing if I ever expect to get famous and win the Nobel peace blog prize.
So . . . Who wants to hear about Puerto Rico?
I knew you did!
Well too bad!
It'd be too long for a measly blog entry. Maybe I'll publish a book. Sufficeth to say, it did not quite go quite as I had expected. Not exactly my favorite place in the world. But I realize that most of that is because of my weird, eccentric, view on health and eating. A city of hot dog vendors and frying oil where I can't run down the street to Walmart without getting shot or raped or both (in either order) just doesn't do it for me. I am sure going to miss that about Utah when I move next Monday . . .
Which reminds me of a story from my childhood . . .
Once I had this friend named Alyssa. I thought we'd be bffs FOREVER. Then she had to move to California. So my closet-poet-secretly-super-emotional side decided to write her a letter about how much she's changed my life and stuff, but I was too much of a wuss to give it to her because it made me feel like a baby. A few years later, at EFY, we were both forced to share our testimonies (something I find extremely difficult to do, with the whole displaying emotion other than excited happiness) during which I confessed how much it'd pained me for her to leave, and discovered she'd been exactly the same way.
Poo. I love that girl. We don't really talk much, but when you have a good friend you kind of always consider them one of your best friends even if you're so detached you now feel slightly awkward around them. Haha.
Love you Alyssa (if you're reading this)!
Now, I LOVE confrontation, but when I confront someone, I smile and play the whole I'm-above-this-obviously-because-it's-not-phasing-me-one-tinsy-bit role. But I feel angry SO MUCH! And sad and a whole skew of other things. And I feel it a lot. I used to always get mad at people for not knowing when I was upset and rushing to fix things, but now I realize . . . that no one ever knows. For instance, for a few days while we were in Puerto Rico I had . . . some really low self esteem days, just because of the whole not-being-healthy-stress stuff. One night I totally broke down and cried for hours, but no one else knew. No one. So when they were getting on us for not wanting to drive hours to some place to hang out with the family, I wanted to scream LEAVE ME ALONE, CAN'T YOU SEE THAT ALL I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW IS BREAK THE T.V. SCREEN WITH ME HEAD? I NEED TIME TO RECUPERATE AND FIX MYSELF!
But I didn't. And I was mad they didn't know. Did they know I was mad? Of course not. I didn't show any sign. I didn't say anything.
When we finally got back from Puerto Rico I wanted to write everyone an email about how wrong everything was while we were there and what they did wrong. But after letting it cool for a while, I realized . . .
All I had needed to do to fix things and make them better was show a little more emotion and opinions. And if I had a crappy time because I wasn't willing to let people see how I was feeling, well, that's my fault. Not his. They wanted to be all out there and I have a good vacation and I just wasn't quite in sync.
Oh, gosh, this is getting too long.
Peace out, yo, my non-existent readers!
If this totally doesn't make sense, forgive me! Now that I'm finished, it's almost four in the morning!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Nasty Pinecones
My life this entire summer has been pretty much pointless. A few days ago someone backed into me while I was parked either at work or the grocery store.
I think it was at work because I pulled through into my parking spot at the store, so there was a whole spot behind me and only an idiot could accidentally hit me . I suppose it could have been at home but I was only there for about half an hour before I went to David's place and then I was only parked THERE for five minutes before we went outside and saw it.
I feel pretty stupid for not noticing it when I left work because it's kinda really . . . big. When I left the grocery store I never walked around the back so if it happened there I'd feel better about myself.
Anyway.
I think it was a guy. In a truck. With a hitch.
A guy because most truck drivers are guys. A truck because most cars I see with hitches are trucks. A hitch because the hole in the left side of my bumper looks like something a hitch would do. They also pushed a dent into the right side below the trunk. The trunk will still close and stay closed, but there's a small gap that might be a problem should we have any bad rain or snow.
Unfortunately, it's not my car. It's my parent's. David was telling me that he can't imagine my parents forcing me to pay for the damage since it wasn't my fault. But it wasn't their fault either.
The car was in my possesion, and the occurence would never have happened had I not come along because it would have been in a garage. So part of being an upstanding, responsible daughter is paying for the damage to be fixed. And that's what I plan on doing.
I wish I could get it done before my family comes home from Portugal in 1 1/2 weeks, but I won't have the money by that time so it's impossible. I'm not excited to see my mom freak out. I'm also debating whether or not I should tell her now or wait until they're back from vacation. If I tell now, it might ruin her day, and that's not cool for a vacation. But if I wait until later, she might feel like I was trying to hide it from her. So I don't know.
The most irritating thing is that I'm working 40 hours a week at a call center earning 10 dollars an hour or less, wishing I could scratch out my eyes every second I'm there. I also have another on and off job writing articles for an online company (when the work is there) and then I recently started working for chacha as a guide to bring in extra money. My whole life is work. And now, because someone had to be a dishonest idiot, it's gone. Every little penny I have earned and will potentially earn this summer will go towards fixing this car, and that might not even be enough. It almost me want to cry.
I did file a police report. As a formality.
When I imagine the person who did this to me, I'd like to think of him as the rough, gangster, destined-for-jail type. But really? He's probably a normal kid, like me. Maybe it's really a girl. If I destroyed someone else's car, would I stick around to pay for the damage?
Yes, I would. But it'd be really hard/tempting to just leave.
So I don't really hate the dude. I just feel sad and tired and overworked.
I think it was at work because I pulled through into my parking spot at the store, so there was a whole spot behind me and only an idiot could accidentally hit me . I suppose it could have been at home but I was only there for about half an hour before I went to David's place and then I was only parked THERE for five minutes before we went outside and saw it.
I feel pretty stupid for not noticing it when I left work because it's kinda really . . . big. When I left the grocery store I never walked around the back so if it happened there I'd feel better about myself.
Anyway.
I think it was a guy. In a truck. With a hitch.
A guy because most truck drivers are guys. A truck because most cars I see with hitches are trucks. A hitch because the hole in the left side of my bumper looks like something a hitch would do. They also pushed a dent into the right side below the trunk. The trunk will still close and stay closed, but there's a small gap that might be a problem should we have any bad rain or snow.
Unfortunately, it's not my car. It's my parent's. David was telling me that he can't imagine my parents forcing me to pay for the damage since it wasn't my fault. But it wasn't their fault either.
The car was in my possesion, and the occurence would never have happened had I not come along because it would have been in a garage. So part of being an upstanding, responsible daughter is paying for the damage to be fixed. And that's what I plan on doing.
I wish I could get it done before my family comes home from Portugal in 1 1/2 weeks, but I won't have the money by that time so it's impossible. I'm not excited to see my mom freak out. I'm also debating whether or not I should tell her now or wait until they're back from vacation. If I tell now, it might ruin her day, and that's not cool for a vacation. But if I wait until later, she might feel like I was trying to hide it from her. So I don't know.
The most irritating thing is that I'm working 40 hours a week at a call center earning 10 dollars an hour or less, wishing I could scratch out my eyes every second I'm there. I also have another on and off job writing articles for an online company (when the work is there) and then I recently started working for chacha as a guide to bring in extra money. My whole life is work. And now, because someone had to be a dishonest idiot, it's gone. Every little penny I have earned and will potentially earn this summer will go towards fixing this car, and that might not even be enough. It almost me want to cry.
I did file a police report. As a formality.
When I imagine the person who did this to me, I'd like to think of him as the rough, gangster, destined-for-jail type. But really? He's probably a normal kid, like me. Maybe it's really a girl. If I destroyed someone else's car, would I stick around to pay for the damage?
Yes, I would. But it'd be really hard/tempting to just leave.
So I don't really hate the dude. I just feel sad and tired and overworked.
Gr.
Two days ago I decided I didn't like the tip of my left pinky finger.
After reaching this decision I then tried to remove the offending area by slamming down on it with a very dull knife.
Now the ironic thing here is that I had been previously warned about this knife. . . Some nonsense about dull knives being more dangerous than sharp, new ones.
Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get even half way through my finger. Almost, though. Almost there.
So the real story is that I was getting ready for work, chopping up an apple, and somehow my left pinky finger got in the way so I cut myself.
I wasn't joking about it being almost half way through my finger.
I managed to procure two butterfly band-aides from my work's first aid kit and a fistful of normal band-aides so that's how I survived my 8 1/2 hour shift yesterday with my finger half way off. I tried to stop by Target to get butterfly band-aides but they didn't have any. How weird is that?
Anyway, after work I saw some little market on the way home and managed to find some butterfly and special finger bandages there. When I got home, I tried to clean the gaping wound but there was so much extremely dried blood that it hurt to try to peel it off. I also couldn't quite get each side of the cut to touch with the butterfly band-aides, but it was close.
This morning when I was in the shower, the steam and random water splashes cleaned the dried blood off quite thourally. I was stupid and curious so I pulled apart the edges to see exactly how deep the cut way. Ouch! But yeah, almost halfway through.
Sooooo I stuck it back together with butterfly band-aides, put People Paste on it (a miraculous substance that cleans, disinfects, draws out any infection, and can act as a replacement for stitches in a crunch. Love it.), and covered that sucker up.
I feel pretty hardcore. Gr. Maybe I'll try to finish the job today.
After it stops throbbing.
Gr.
After reaching this decision I then tried to remove the offending area by slamming down on it with a very dull knife.
Now the ironic thing here is that I had been previously warned about this knife. . . Some nonsense about dull knives being more dangerous than sharp, new ones.
Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get even half way through my finger. Almost, though. Almost there.
So the real story is that I was getting ready for work, chopping up an apple, and somehow my left pinky finger got in the way so I cut myself.
I wasn't joking about it being almost half way through my finger.
I managed to procure two butterfly band-aides from my work's first aid kit and a fistful of normal band-aides so that's how I survived my 8 1/2 hour shift yesterday with my finger half way off. I tried to stop by Target to get butterfly band-aides but they didn't have any. How weird is that?
Anyway, after work I saw some little market on the way home and managed to find some butterfly and special finger bandages there. When I got home, I tried to clean the gaping wound but there was so much extremely dried blood that it hurt to try to peel it off. I also couldn't quite get each side of the cut to touch with the butterfly band-aides, but it was close.
This morning when I was in the shower, the steam and random water splashes cleaned the dried blood off quite thourally. I was stupid and curious so I pulled apart the edges to see exactly how deep the cut way. Ouch! But yeah, almost halfway through.
Sooooo I stuck it back together with butterfly band-aides, put People Paste on it (a miraculous substance that cleans, disinfects, draws out any infection, and can act as a replacement for stitches in a crunch. Love it.), and covered that sucker up.
I feel pretty hardcore. Gr. Maybe I'll try to finish the job today.
After it stops throbbing.
Gr.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Agua
Upon reflection of the last few months of my life, I have decided it might benefit my readers if I were to share some of the nuggets of wisdom I have recently gleaned:
Boys don't always eat double the quantity of food that girls eat. The quality, however, is usually different.
Drinking dirty tasting water = massive headache.
There is not way to make fluffy oatmeal cookies.
Having more than multiple big goal will ensure failure of inadequate accomplishment of at least one of them.
Facebook is a great tool to help you get even more behind with obligations in the most amount of time possible. Even when you only log on to reply to necessary messages.
Eggs actually taste good when cooked correctly.
People cook eggs with butter.
Brownies from scratch are simply not as scrumptious as the packaged kind. Unless anybody has an amazing recipe they'd like to post for me here!
Diamonds are not impervious to dirt.
Now just a fact I'll like to share: I'd rather die than ever get a good whiff of sulfur again. David and I hiked to these hot springs yesterday intending to swim . . . but I was having trouble just standing by them. GACK!
Leave me some comments with tidbits of wisdom (both serious and funny) you've figured out over the course of your life!
I LOVE YOU (most likely)!
Boys don't always eat double the quantity of food that girls eat. The quality, however, is usually different.
Drinking dirty tasting water = massive headache.
There is not way to make fluffy oatmeal cookies.
Having more than multiple big goal will ensure failure of inadequate accomplishment of at least one of them.
Facebook is a great tool to help you get even more behind with obligations in the most amount of time possible. Even when you only log on to reply to necessary messages.
Eggs actually taste good when cooked correctly.
People cook eggs with butter.
Brownies from scratch are simply not as scrumptious as the packaged kind. Unless anybody has an amazing recipe they'd like to post for me here!
Diamonds are not impervious to dirt.
Now just a fact I'll like to share: I'd rather die than ever get a good whiff of sulfur again. David and I hiked to these hot springs yesterday intending to swim . . . but I was having trouble just standing by them. GACK!
Leave me some comments with tidbits of wisdom (both serious and funny) you've figured out over the course of your life!
I LOVE YOU (most likely)!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Max
I am soooo sorry I have no blogged in sooo long. I've been busy! Really!
So I got into an accident a few weeks ago. All because of a pickle-eating-chum-bucket man named Max.
At least, it makes sense to me that it's his fault. Nobody else seems to really agree.
Here's what happened:
I applied for a job as a content writer for some business and get an email a few days later from a fellow named Max saying he'd like to interview me. He says he would have called me, except he couldn't find my phone number on my resume. I thought that was awfully strange so I pull up my resume and . . . yup! There it is! Plain as day on the top of the page. But whatever.
I didn't call him (didn't even look at his email) for a few days because I was seriously ill. When I did eventually call, we set up a time to interview. At ten fifteen one morning. I had to be at work at eleven and this interview was twenty minutes away. So I drive clear down there and guess what?
I can't find him anywhere. I try to call him, but he doesn't answer the phone. After a while, I give up--feeling quite irate. I start driving home. On my way home, I realize I don't have time to get all the way home and then all the way to work so I just start heading to work and be there early.
As I'm turning left on an intersection, this guy hits me!
Let me clarify the situation . . .
It was a two lane left turning dealio. I was in the outside turning lane. He was on the inside. While we turn he decides he doesn't want to be on the inside and swings into my lane. But I'm not behind him. I'm right next to him. I tried to scoot over, but I couldn't go onto the last lane because there were cars there turning right. Sheesh!
We pull over, I freak out, he says not to worry because he's going to take full responsibility. I call my dad, who gets there at the tail end . . . I think I made the guy feel really bad because I was BAWLING.
Then the guy that hits me tells me he just got laid off. I felt kinda bad.
But back to MAX!
If Max had not called me for that gosh dang stupid interview and then not shown up, I never would have been in that intersection at that time so it's all his fault!!
P.S. Later Max called me to say 'did I miss the time that you were supposed to be here?' Loser. He didn't even acknowledge that he missed my calls.
JERK FACE!!
So I got into an accident a few weeks ago. All because of a pickle-eating-chum-bucket man named Max.
At least, it makes sense to me that it's his fault. Nobody else seems to really agree.
Here's what happened:
I applied for a job as a content writer for some business and get an email a few days later from a fellow named Max saying he'd like to interview me. He says he would have called me, except he couldn't find my phone number on my resume. I thought that was awfully strange so I pull up my resume and . . . yup! There it is! Plain as day on the top of the page. But whatever.
I didn't call him (didn't even look at his email) for a few days because I was seriously ill. When I did eventually call, we set up a time to interview. At ten fifteen one morning. I had to be at work at eleven and this interview was twenty minutes away. So I drive clear down there and guess what?
I can't find him anywhere. I try to call him, but he doesn't answer the phone. After a while, I give up--feeling quite irate. I start driving home. On my way home, I realize I don't have time to get all the way home and then all the way to work so I just start heading to work and be there early.
As I'm turning left on an intersection, this guy hits me!
Let me clarify the situation . . .
It was a two lane left turning dealio. I was in the outside turning lane. He was on the inside. While we turn he decides he doesn't want to be on the inside and swings into my lane. But I'm not behind him. I'm right next to him. I tried to scoot over, but I couldn't go onto the last lane because there were cars there turning right. Sheesh!
We pull over, I freak out, he says not to worry because he's going to take full responsibility. I call my dad, who gets there at the tail end . . . I think I made the guy feel really bad because I was BAWLING.
Then the guy that hits me tells me he just got laid off. I felt kinda bad.
But back to MAX!
If Max had not called me for that gosh dang stupid interview and then not shown up, I never would have been in that intersection at that time so it's all his fault!!
P.S. Later Max called me to say 'did I miss the time that you were supposed to be here?' Loser. He didn't even acknowledge that he missed my calls.
JERK FACE!!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Keep on truckin' . . .
I am sooooo sorry, my avid readers, for not posting this sooner. I wrote it on Sunday but wanted to read through it before posting but didn't have time . . . and now it's super late. Ah, well. Here goes . . .
Finished all the workouts on the agenda this week! Here is next week's schedule:
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 12 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
It's exactly the same except the long run on Tuesday is up two miles. It goes up two about every week. Except every fourth week is an easier week to give my body time to recuperate and heal.
David finished his last day of school on Friday! Woohoo! And I will see him in . . . three stinkin' days! Pretty stoked for that.
Today I have half a mohawk. I spiked up the back of my head with gel and bobby pins. It's kinda weird, but I like it. Guess I'm kinda a true drama kid at heart. Somewhere deep, deep in my heart. Eh.
Hoooookay. What has happened to me this week . . . My mom's been awfully sick so I've been picking up the kids from school and doing a lot of errands for her. Cleaning a lot too. I would have done that regardless--clean freak. She's feeling a ton better which is super lucky since tomorrow I start work and I don't expect to have much free time . . . Add that to all the hours I have to spend at the gym training and having a life. . . busy, busy!
Tomorrow I must leave for the gym at 5:20 in the morning to complete my stinkin' workout before work. Normally I won't start work until 11 a.m., but tomorrow is orientation so it's earlier . . . I cannot wait for my normal work schedule to pick up. I feel like I'm dying without a set plan of activities every day!
Okay, so back in the first semester of college, my roommate bought us a fish and a crab for our dorm room. Except they died. Luckily, we had a 9 week warranty so we just brought the bodies back to Walmart and got new ones. Which also mysteriously died. I swear on my life I remembered to feed them!
After much deep thought, meditation, and careful study of the fish tanks at Walmart, we discovered the reasons for our woe.
The darn creatures needed warm water and were dying of cold. Sheesh. We stopped replacing them then because we couldn't afford to waste the money needed to buy ever a cheap water heater for our mini jar-tank. But a few days ago I realized I still had the fat jar and tons of goldfish food!
So I said to my sister, Catia: "I have a jar . . . and a LOT of fish food. I need a fish," and promptly went out to remedy the situation.
I bought a male Betta fish and named him Spongy. And then I felt bad about his tiny, boring, lonely enclosure, so I bought a little tank, some fake coral, a little 'no skinny dipping' sign, some fake greenery, lots of little pebbles for the bottom of the tank, some big pretty jewels for the bottom, and another fish! A female Betta. My sister named her Katie. I also ended up buying special Betta food and blood worms for them to eat after realizing that there was a reason my goldfish food said 'goldfish' on the bottle. Who knew all kinds of fish didn't eat the same thing?
Apparently Bettas are really violent fish. Which I had read about online and was the reason I bought a female to keep my Spongy company. Because the males are supposed to be the violent ones. But when I stuck the two together, Katie tried to eat Spongy's tail! I thought maybe it was some mating ritual thing but after a quick internet search discovered that was NOT the case, stuck my finger in the tank and gave Katie a little flick.
Male Bettas are GORGEOUS, p.s. The females . . . not as much.
I ended up having to stick Katie in the jar I had originally had Spongy in with a few sparkly jewels to liven up the scenery.
The sexes just can't get along in any species, can they?
Finished all the workouts on the agenda this week! Here is next week's schedule:
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 12 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
It's exactly the same except the long run on Tuesday is up two miles. It goes up two about every week. Except every fourth week is an easier week to give my body time to recuperate and heal.
David finished his last day of school on Friday! Woohoo! And I will see him in . . . three stinkin' days! Pretty stoked for that.
Today I have half a mohawk. I spiked up the back of my head with gel and bobby pins. It's kinda weird, but I like it. Guess I'm kinda a true drama kid at heart. Somewhere deep, deep in my heart. Eh.
Hoooookay. What has happened to me this week . . . My mom's been awfully sick so I've been picking up the kids from school and doing a lot of errands for her. Cleaning a lot too. I would have done that regardless--clean freak. She's feeling a ton better which is super lucky since tomorrow I start work and I don't expect to have much free time . . . Add that to all the hours I have to spend at the gym training and having a life. . . busy, busy!
Tomorrow I must leave for the gym at 5:20 in the morning to complete my stinkin' workout before work. Normally I won't start work until 11 a.m., but tomorrow is orientation so it's earlier . . . I cannot wait for my normal work schedule to pick up. I feel like I'm dying without a set plan of activities every day!
Okay, so back in the first semester of college, my roommate bought us a fish and a crab for our dorm room. Except they died. Luckily, we had a 9 week warranty so we just brought the bodies back to Walmart and got new ones. Which also mysteriously died. I swear on my life I remembered to feed them!
After much deep thought, meditation, and careful study of the fish tanks at Walmart, we discovered the reasons for our woe.
The darn creatures needed warm water and were dying of cold. Sheesh. We stopped replacing them then because we couldn't afford to waste the money needed to buy ever a cheap water heater for our mini jar-tank. But a few days ago I realized I still had the fat jar and tons of goldfish food!
So I said to my sister, Catia: "I have a jar . . . and a LOT of fish food. I need a fish," and promptly went out to remedy the situation.
I bought a male Betta fish and named him Spongy. And then I felt bad about his tiny, boring, lonely enclosure, so I bought a little tank, some fake coral, a little 'no skinny dipping' sign, some fake greenery, lots of little pebbles for the bottom of the tank, some big pretty jewels for the bottom, and another fish! A female Betta. My sister named her Katie. I also ended up buying special Betta food and blood worms for them to eat after realizing that there was a reason my goldfish food said 'goldfish' on the bottle. Who knew all kinds of fish didn't eat the same thing?
Apparently Bettas are really violent fish. Which I had read about online and was the reason I bought a female to keep my Spongy company. Because the males are supposed to be the violent ones. But when I stuck the two together, Katie tried to eat Spongy's tail! I thought maybe it was some mating ritual thing but after a quick internet search discovered that was NOT the case, stuck my finger in the tank and gave Katie a little flick.
Male Bettas are GORGEOUS, p.s. The females . . . not as much.
I ended up having to stick Katie in the jar I had originally had Spongy in with a few sparkly jewels to liven up the scenery.
The sexes just can't get along in any species, can they?
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Life Is Easier With No Goals Or Aspirations
Alright, it is time to start working on number 6 of my list of 21 things to do before I am 21 years of age. Number six is . . . Drum roll, please!
Run a marathon.
I am going to run the Heart of American Marathon on September 6th, 2010, in Columbia, Missouri.
I did a crap load of research about how to train for a marathon and then combined what I had learned/gathered from different sites, and made my own training schedule. Posted here at the end of the week will be the schedule for the upcoming week. It is an 18 week ordeal and starts this Monday.
P.S. I am not crazy by jumping into the training so fast--I already run seven miles a day. This schedule actually decreases my weekly mile total. It just is to get me used to running for longer. Building up mental endurance and all that.
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 10 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
And there you have it, folks! Wish me luck! I'll cross off the days as a complete them . . .
Run a marathon.
I am going to run the Heart of American Marathon on September 6th, 2010, in Columbia, Missouri.
I did a crap load of research about how to train for a marathon and then combined what I had learned/gathered from different sites, and made my own training schedule. Posted here at the end of the week will be the schedule for the upcoming week. It is an 18 week ordeal and starts this Monday.
P.S. I am not crazy by jumping into the training so fast--I already run seven miles a day. This schedule actually decreases my weekly mile total. It just is to get me used to running for longer. Building up mental endurance and all that.
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 10 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
And there you have it, folks! Wish me luck! I'll cross off the days as a complete them . . .
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