Screams

I’m not a screamer. Or a yeller. I would rather see someone I know and not get to talk to them over yelling their name in public. I get so embarrassed when I have to raise my voice.

On Tuesday I saw someone about my leg. I was pretty embarrassed about hobbling around work and explaining to people why I seemed so short all of a sudden (can’t wear heels when you can’t walk, people). He spent some time moving my legs around, poking various areas, and testing the levels of pain and discomfort as he did this. Then, he explained the problem:

Seriously, I understood none of the words. I wish at some point in college I had chosen anatomy and physiology classes over organic chemistry because I don’t think understanding the structural formula of tartaric acid has been as applicable in adulthood as I originally hoped. So, he dumbed it down for me and basically my hip was “jammed” and it was causing distress to the nerves and muscles running down my leg. To fix it, he placed a hand on my hip and one on my calf then yanked just like when you need to rip a Barbie leg off (because sometimes those bitches had to learn lessons the hard way). My doctor was young and nice looking, so I tried to keep it together and maintain my composure.

internally-screaming

But, that’s not how I roll.

It really hurt at the time, but after some foam rolling and those little electric shock patches, my leg feels pretty damn good today and I can walk normally. Apparently, I just need to incorporate some more hip mobility exercises and stretches into my life (more being at least one since I currently do none) and everything should be fine. So hooray for not having a major problem or long-term damage.

My next set of screaming came last night.This week is student worker appreciation week in our office and each department has a day that they are in charge of. Our day is tomorrow and we are having an ice cream party with a “Thank You Dairy Much” theme (I came up with the theme and I think it’s amazing and I don’t care what anyone says). To bring this theme to fulfillment, I needed to get a large galvanized bucket (to hold the ice), cow balloons, and the food to campus. There’s no easy way to do this since I don’t have a parking pass and there’s no way I’m riding the bus with all that crap.

So, last night, I met someone downtown for an improv show and I thought I would just drop all that crap off at the office on my way there. I opened the doors to the building with my key,walked in, and went to our offices and dropped everything off. As I was carefully creeping back to the doors through several minutes of creepy darkness in an old building (it was like Hogwarts at night and not in a good way), a security guard leapt out from behind a stairwell and yelled “STOP.”

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I don’t know which of us were more freaked out, but he eventually pulled it together enough to tell me to “PLEASE STOP SCREAMING.” It scared me worse than I think I’ve ever been scared. I could not calm down. Normally, when scared I just suck air and freeze (I’m probably pretty easy to kill), but this was beyond a level of terror I’ve known in a while. I did learn a valuable lesson though, if I open that door with just a key, a silent alarm goes off.

I hope I learned. I’m just glad he scared me after I dropped off my stuff because I was have been beyond angry if I had let go of those balloons when he scared me. Here’s to a scream-free Thursday.

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WTF Wednesday

For the past month or so, I haven’t been sleeping well (with the exception of the weekend before last). This has been especially prevalent on weekdays which isn’t great since I need to be mostly alert at work.

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In a moment of desperation, I took an Ambien last Tuesday night because I just really wanted to sleep for more than two hours at a time. Yesterday, I received a few unexpected items in the mail.

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A FNL shirt, a waterproof camera, and a knee pillow to sleep with. Guess when I ordered it? At 2:14 a.m. in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. I was originally confused as to why on earth I would purchase these items, but I guess my subconscious is gearing up for a summer full of underwater inquiry, my back hurts, and TIM RIGGINS. Upon further thought, I realized that if someone image mapped my brain, a huge portion of it would look like this:

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I think I just really want to be a mermaid with Taylor Kitsch. Maybe I’ll start working on a series of mermaid romance novels with an environmentalist framework. The plight of the mermaid is real and dramatically romantic and Taylor’s hair would look glorious underwater.

I also learned this week that it’s hipster cool to like Billy Murray. Um, WTF? When was it not cool to like Bill Murray? Has he ever been out of style? He’s a national treasure.

I recently had the pleasure of learning that telling an employee older than you that they are under no circumstances allowed to talk about their sex life during work hours (regardless of where we are physically) is the most awkward and terrible conversation you can have. It’s dramatically worsened when you have to explain why it’s not okay.

IT”S NOT OKAY. EVER. UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

I don’t know why everyone is making so much fun of poor Leo. Just let the man dance it out and relax. Sleeping with supermodels will exhaust and old fella’.

Those first six seconds are like looking in a mirror. Some people have moves and some us. . . don’t.

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Zoom Half Marathon: A Tale of Terrible

After roughly 1.5 hours of sleep, I woke up on Saturday morning at 4:30 for the Zooma Texas half marathon in Bastrop. I was really happy to be awake and lacing up.

I met my friend Maria (of the Mighty Endorphin Power Strangers) at the Austin airport to catch a shuttle out to the race site. We were both pretty anxious about the semantics of shuttling, so we got there at 5:45. At that time there weren’t any lines for the buses and we got to the resort roughly 20 minutes after boarding. The race was held at the Hyatt Regency Lost Pines which was beautiful even in the dark. The resort was gracious enough to let people hang out inside the conference center and use their very nice and clean bathrooms. We really appreciated it since we had over an hour to hang out before the start.

Just before 7:30 we sleepily ambled out to the start line and started running. It was really humid

and I was soaked in my own sweat before the first mile. Then, hills. HILLS HILLS HILLS.

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It was like run up a hill, turn a corner, then keep running up the hill. It wasn’t the worst hill situation ever, but it was more than I wanted to deal with at the time. My legs felt pretty good during my 7-miler last Saturday, but that feeling was not replicated on Saturday. I was just fall-apart whiny bitchy city. I kept telling Maria to leave me and go on without me, but she wouldn’t listen. I was pretty worried that if she spent the next two hours with me then she wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore. The one bright spot in the first three miles was an unbelievably handsome police officer who was standing on the side of the road. We weren’t the only ones who noticed.

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Somewhere around the fourth mile and fourteenth hill, my left leg started a revolt. First my knee started throbbing, then my hip hurt, then my shin and ankle, and finally, pain just started consistently traveling from my hip down to my toes.

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I went from a “just finish this damn thing” mindset to “just amputate your leg and bleed out peacefully in the arms of Officer McHotty.” Every step was hurt. I have never really experienced pain like that during a race. My legs have hurt and felt tired or just plain shitty, but I haven’t really dealt with long periods of sharp pain. I didn’t enjoy it.

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The majority of the course was on rural paved roads and there were plenty of water stops which came in really handy because I was sweating far more than I realized and was thirsty early on. The course was fine until the final 5k. The last three-ish miles were on a very pretty golf course, but it sucked winding back in forth for so many miles. I don’t really enjoy seeing how many more times I have to wind around the same area before I am finished. When it comes to running, ignorance is truly bliss when it comes to the distance left to travel. I don’t need to see it.

(artwork not to scale – those beige blobs are sand traps)

The other kind of depressing thing was that the resort is really beautiful and I was extremely bitter that I would not be spending a week there.

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After a long and arduous run, we finally finished at 2:24:42 which will go down as one of my more dismal performances (which is saying a lot since they are largely dismal as a whole). So much walking and so much pain. My pace was all over the damn place.

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I was pleasantly surprised to see that I finished right in the middle for my age group (I felt like I was more in the 118th place range) and then I was depressed because I realized that the next time I run my age bracket will start with a three.

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Anyway, in case you already haven’t noticed, I was in a really shitty mood about the whole thing. The humidity sucked, my body sucked, hills suck, and I sucked.

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After grabbing a bunch of bagels and water, we laid in the grass and listened to music for about an hour. That was nice.

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The carbs and horizontal body positioning helped my mood and we eventually got a picture of us both looking happy. Maria always looks happy and cheerful, but I think she must have unicorn blood for breakfast or something.

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On the way back to the bus, I did experience a few moments of joy because MINIATURE LIVESTOCK.

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So cute. We hopped on the bus back to the airport and I was showered and on the couch by 1. I’m glad this is my last half until the fall because my body is pretty over running more than five miles at a time at this point. My leg still hurts and I have shooting pain from my hip down the back of my knee and to the outside of my ankle every time I take a step, so that’s been a good time. I normally drink about 100 ounces of water over the course of the work day and yesterday I drank almost nothing because the thought of walking to the restroom multiple times was too much to bear. I didn’t even get up when they sent out an email about cupcakes in the break room. DARK TIMES.

If it still hurts on Thursday, I think might go see someone about it because, unlike House, I’m not cool enough to pull off a limp.

PS: My feelings on Sunday night’s Game of Thrones:

Muwhahahahaha.

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Magnificent Men of Monday

The Red Viper! Or Oberyn Martell. Or Pedro Pascal.

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