I *may*have spoken too soon.

That run I was crowing about Monday? Yeah, it may have wrecked me. If your doctor tells you NOT to run for a month, maybe you shouldn’t think “I’m a ruuner, I’ll know when I can get back at it” or something similar. Maybe you should not fucking run for a month, And if you do, and it feels OK, maybe running 3 days later is pushing your luck. Because if you ran 4 miles Friday, and Monday you run 5, but that last mile feels “a little tweaky” on your shin, that’s not good. And if you walk a mile with your husband after work and you’re noticeably limping at the end when you normally run 35 miles per week, that’s really bad. 

It leads to you realizing you’re an idiot. It makes you realize that taking your running shoes on vacation is not a good idea. It makes you realize that running along Lake Michigan isn’t going to happen this year. It makes you realize you actually have an injury. It makes you question that half marathon you’re signed up for 2 months from now. It makes you desperately cross train in hopes of keeping cardio strength, fitness, and weight in check. 

It also frees you. Your running shoes are staying home. Your vacation is about exploring a city with your husband instead of sneaking in a 6 mile run before he’s ready to start sightseeing in the morning. Your vacation is full of walks, and food, and fun. The frantic part desperately trying to fit in exercise will be gone. And though it’s terrifying, it’s damn sure freeing. 

Moral of the story? Listen to your doctor. If the pain was so bad you went to the doctor on a Saturday, and then followed up with the xray place the following Monday, and shoved crutches in your armpits in between, AND looked for a cane half heartedly at Goodwill because your dr told you so…then maybe don’t run for a month. And then, as he said, the counter resets every freaking time you do. Maybe you just ruined your chances of running that half marathon you signed up for in November. Maybe that DOUBLE half marathon weekend you were thinking of being a badass and doing is off the table. Maybe you were basically a running novice, and ran 6 months straight, 30+ miles each week, and it caught up with you. Suck on that, runner chutzpah. 

And just because I can’t end a post without some hilarity, it was pre vacation night at our house. Which generally means it’s also pizza night. And I’d like to imagine Duncan a little bit like this: 

pizza night'


Jeff and I had Friday off work last week to cannonball up to his hometown and back to attend services for a family member. I was kind of edgy all morning, and when I finally forced him to give me a timetable of our day, I realized if I headed out THAT VERY MOMENT, I could get in a quick 4 mile run. Yeah, I hadn’t run in a week or two. Yeah, I was *technically* supposed to be off running for another 2 weeks. But things were feeling good and I headed out the door. Still in our driveway, I realized I hadn’t really looked outside before I left. And it was raining. Without hesitation, I whipped my shirt off, covered my phone with it for protection, and kept going. It was the best damn 4 miles I’ve run in a LONG time. I basically danced along the bike path. Got home and felt no pain in my shin! Fast forward to that evening, and it was a little sore, but nothing major. So I’m working on slowly easing back into it. 

Today I ran over my lunch hour. I hopped on the treadmill, tried to follow the same little program I always did, and choked. I pushed through 5 miles, but they were ugly. I had hoped to go 6 but settled for 5 because around then, I could feel my shin starting to act up. And so, I won’t run for the next few days. That’s how it goes. And yeah, tonight it might hurt even more, but I just can’t help myself! Another weird symptom of whatever’s going on is an aching down into my heel that is pretty much present whenever I’ve run or sat for a long period of time. Same leg, so I feel like it may be related, but how I’m not sure. 

One more day of work this week, and then Jeff and I head out for this year’s vacation. It may not be European, but we are spending decidedly less money this year than last. Found some wicked cheap Southwest air fares and we’re headed to Chicago! Stay tuned for gratuitous food photos, obligatory lake photos, a trip to the Frank Lloyd Wright museum, and probably a Millenium Park bean selfie. It’s how I roll. 

Saw this dog photo the other day…and oh my. 


Wednesday Wanderings

I took a walk Tuesday after work, and it was one of those where you look around and think:

The sky is so blue!
The air is so crisp!

It’s like going for a walk gets me high sometimes. Seriously. The existential thoughts and happy trees going through my mind would make Willie Nelson blush. Some of my thoughts:

a nice leisurely walk outside is so invigorating. Resolution: make 10,000 step goal on my phone each day, by taking a walk or by gym exercise.

I don’t want a fancy house. They seem expensive. And time consuming. I want my modest house I can furnish mostly how I want, and to save any excess for my eventual move to Europe. Which brings me to…

I will live in Europe no longer than 30 years from now. Watched House Hunters International again today, totally bad news for me. BUT, apartments in Spain were like $800 a month! We can afford that. We WILL afford that. I’ll do nothing but work in cafes and bakeries 18 hours a day if I have to, but I will absolutely make it happen.

After my walk, took a nice deliciously long bath and Jeff made pasta for dinner. And when I say “made pasta”, I mean it.





I spent a good part of Monday processing down tomatoes to make some homemade pizza sauce. We’ve been growing basil in our garden. The only thing in the meal that we didn’t make ourselves was the wine and some parmesan cheese we sprinkled on top (Trader Joe’s shredded, not that grated crap in a can!). I cannot convey how delicious it was. And I want to point out that Jeff made that pasta by hand with a giant rolling pin. We’re scouring ebay, craigslist, and the like for a decently priced pasta attachment so he can do this more often. What can we say, we’re Irish by blood and Italian by heart!



Labor of Love

Good Morning! Was getting up this morning as tough for everyone else as it was for me? I had overdone it a bit yesterday so I needed some pain pills last night. While they help me sleep and chase the pain away, they end up giving me some really strange dreams, and I wake up a LOT overnight, positive I just slept 8 hours when it was really 45 minutes from the last time I checked. So I was awake before the alarm this morning, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it! 

All things considered, we had a pretty OK Labor Day weekend. Friday’s surgery was pretty routine. The doctor found a lot of scar tissue that was the source of my pain. He did NOT find any new endometriosis, so there’s hope I won’t need to do this again for a while. Once I got home, all I could do was sleep though! I spent most of Friday half conscious, waking up just enough to start the next episode of Numbers on Netflix and fall back asleep. I got out of bed and went to get the mail-Nurse Duncan was NOT amused. He started howling at me the second I came back in the house! I stood there and tried to talk to Jeff for another minute, and he kept advancing and howling at me. I go back to bed, he follows me in, positions himself between me and the door, and lays down with one eye on me. Apparently my dog knows what’s good for me better than I do! 

We did manage to get out of the house and out to dinner Friday night, since I was blissfully NOT nauseous from the anesthesia. I kept it simple and just had a soup, a delicious salad, and a few bites of Jeff’s pappardale. We got some chocolate and salted caramel cake to go and were in bed by 8:30. Poor Jeff had to get up at 5 with me to make it to the hospital on time and he did NOT sleep all day like I did, so poor guy was OUT cold after our dessert. 

Beautiful AND delicious!

Most of the rest of the weekend, I was keeping a balance between pain pills, doing too much, napping, and repeating. I just get super wiped out after surgery anymore. It’s really the most lingering side effect of the whole thing, which is hard for me to deal with as a normally high energy person. Being laid up for a few days really does give me a chance to kind of examine my life-where I am, where I want to be, is what I hold important REALLY what’s important? It gave me a lot to think about. 

When we were at the coffee shop this weekend, I got in some good people watching. Lately, back to school has been all over my Facebook feed, kids holding the magic chalkboard to document what grade they’re starting. And maybe I’m in an extra introspective mood, but it got me to thinking. When we’re little, we’re just discovering what we’re good at. We try everything (except broccoli). And more often than not, it’s our parents, our siblings, our classmates who determine what we stick with. When our interests or talents veer into the uncool, they’re all quick to let us know-and we stop. It’s all about finding what you’re good at-as long as you fit in with the crowd. We spend the first 18 years trying to find our talents within the bubble of what’s socially acceptable, and the rest of our lives trying to get back the individuality we stuffed down. 

I’m ready to find what I love doing again, whether it’s blog worthy or not. I can remember deciding to go on my first diet at age 10. I was always super conscious of my body and that dictated what situations I’d put myself in. I wouldn’t try most sports because I was uncoordinated, slightly bigger than the other girls, and did NOT like attention. In junior high, I stepped out of my bubble and tried to pay volleyball, basketball, cheerleading. None of them went over well and I got teased a lot. It just reinforced my body consciousness and how I felt about myself. Makes me wonder about all the fun I missed out on because I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. 

I’m not a wonderful chef, but I have good instincts and I’m a fair to good baker. I would be good at knitting if I could sit still long enough to finish something. I am a terrible artist, but some furniture design and DIY has been catching my eye lately. I’m not a fast runner, but my propensity for masochism and a good dose of sweat make it one of my favorite things to do. Maybe it’s time to quit apologizing for everything and try things without fear-even if middle school Laura would get flamed mercilessly for it. I told myself a year ago that once we got married, I’d be able to devote entire weekends to whatever struck my fancy. Get an urge to read all weekend? Go for it! Want to try and make your own tomato sauce? Have at it! I forgot that along the way because I got so fixated on living my life in order to see a certain number on the scale. Will anyone remember that I weighed XXX and was in the middle of my healthy weight range when I die? NO. But maybe they’ll remember how I was always quick to gift some comfort food, a cute craft, or some time walking together to hash out whatever is bothering us. Life’s too short to restrict yourself so you fit in everyone’s box of where they think you belong. 

Dogs. They're just the best.

Dogs. They’re just the best.

Insanity is…

I’m slowly inching away from blogging again. I just don’t know how other bloggers do it. How they stay interesting, fresh, new. Is there interest in the mundane, repetitive events of my day? I don’t know. I work. I eat the same things. I run a lot. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It also feels like my “big revelations”, my mental issues I know I need to solve, keep circling in my head. I have some great idea how to get over it, I never put it into practice, and then a few months later I’m still bemoaning that last 5 pounds, another surgery, or that nagging running injury I can’t shake. 

I’m trying to only blog when I’ve got something important to say. But lately, I feel like what I think is important, I’ve already beat to death with words. I need to start taking everyone’s advice and actually using it instead of just thinking “great idea, would never work for me because XXX” and keep doing what I’m doing. I’m not unhappy, I’m actually pretty darn happy and optimistic these days, but if I keep letting the same themes run my life, I’m just never going to grow. And maybe it’s time. A friend asked me last night if I was taking any steps towards my goal of being a corporate wellness director. I had to admit that I took the one rejection pretty hard and just stopped. One person tells me no and I take it as gospel. Not to get too philosophical or cliched, but I’m sure every great person got told no probably more than once and kept going. So if I want to be greater, I need to do greater. 

More to come, but I’m about to take off for a much needed massage! Getting a sports massage to try and rid myself of this shin pain, and if that doesn’t work I guess it’s xray time. Oh, body, didn’t you get the memo that I was going to beat on you and run you into the ground, but you were just supposed to take it and stay healthy? What do you mean, 30 miles a week for 6 months takes a toll? Lame. But maybe time to evaluate a few items on my fitness routine. 

Am I cranky or are they tacky?

Everyone has undoubtedly heard about the suicide of Robin Williams by now. It’s sad, it’s all over every news page and feed, and it’s a reminder to hold onto those you love. But I’m feeling a bit apprehensive about the number of bloggers I see in my facebook feed trying to use this tragedy to start a discussion and stir up traffic. I just don’t feel like that’s in good form. Maybe it’s just me and maybe I’m cranky, but “Oh, no, Robin Williams died! New blog link in the comments-what’s your favorite movie of his?” just seems tacky and tasteless. 

In more “Laura is basically a grumpy old grandma these days” news, it seems like I’m falling apart these days! Tomorrow we have an appointment to check how severe the return of my endometriosis is, and hopefully from there we can formulate a game plan or schedule the next surgery. My left leg has been bugging me for about 3 weeks, and I can’t decide if I should start by getting a massage and see if that helps or if I should go straight to the dr at this point. I did get a pedicure while this has been going on, and they do give a bit of a massage there and it didn’t help. Any runners feel free to chime in on this-my lower left leg, both front and back (or maybe that means in the bone?) just feels a stabby pain and like it’s heavier than the other when I start running. The pain fades a bit while running, but if I stop and start then I go through the cycle of “OUCH! OUCH ouch ow OK I’m cool now” all over again. Then after the workout, my leg will be sore and the pain radiates down to my heel. If I get up in the middle of the night to pee or get a drink, my heel really hurts for the first few steps. My online research is pretty sure it’s fatal, so any contradictory theories are appreciated. 

I’m also just very exhausted lately. Took a brief nap after work yesterday, which means I’ve just fallen asleep in the middle of the day for 4 days in a row, and my eyes are all red and bloodshot like I’ve been on a bender (I promise I haven’t). Today’s my 3 hour gym day, and I’m hoping I make it through without curling up on a weight bench for 5 minutes! 

So, basically, today’s blog post=Laura’s a big whiner. Tell me something good and cheer me up here, friends! And as always, lets end on a funny note! 


Guys? Guys, why are you laughing? I don’t get it.