Second Thoughts

Yesterday marked a week until my half marathon. So, as Hal Higdon commanded, I tackled double digits for the first time in my life — ten miles.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it — it sucked. I was bored, I was slow, and I was frustrated — so much to the point, my mind took me to that dark place where I considered throwing in the towel, and instead of taking on the half next weekend, I couldn’t help but be tempted by the thought of staying home to eat Oreos all weekend.

But, of course I won’t — I’m going to bite the bullet and do it. Even though my pace is about sixteen seconds slower than the race’s pace car, meaning it’s pretty much guaranteed I will be left behind by all runners and get stranded somewhere in the middle of wine country (though I suppose there are worse places to get stuck).

If you’re in the neighborhood next weekend, keep an eye out for me by the roadside. I’ll be the one with the bottle of wine in my hydration pack.

Who’s Ready for Some Football?

That pretty much says it all, no?

I was so confused as a child whenever a professional athlete jumped from team to team. The devotion I felt toward the Boston Red Sox was unwavering, and I could never imagine that loyalty changing with the mere cashing of a check — albeit, a very large check.

I was also skeptical of people who were fans of teams, but had no actual connection to the area the team was from (I’m sure some of this had to do with the fact that most of these people I found to be Yankee fans).

Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, UMass — anything having to do with New England sports ruled my house growing up. But, this morning when I turned my TV on and discovered the Steelers game was being broadcast, I let out an audible ‘Yay!’, and realized that my own diehard allegiance had indeed changed.

I’d followed the Steelers for a few years due to a Pittsburgh-born boyfriend, but I was never one to let a man break the holy, almost matrimonial, bond I have with my sports teams. Even after I moved to the Steel City and enjoyed occasionally taking part in the Steelers mania, it still felt unnatural and wrong to be an actual Steelers fan. Rooting for them is one thing, but turning your back on Tom Brady? What would Gisele say?

Nonetheless, the breaking point came not in Pittsburgh or Boston, but in San Francisco. It’s not a secret that I sometimes feel far from home in California and displaced from all that I love about the east coast, but here I am surrounded by a community of diehard Steelers fans, and somewhere in the last year my half-assed enjoyment has turned into real fandom. I’m not entirely sure what tipped the scale, but sometimes being far from everyone and everything you love, you find comfort where you least expect it.

So, there it is — despite my hatred of Ben Roethlisberger and the fact that I look terrible in yellow — I think I am now a Steelers fan.* And it’s definitely not due to winning — cause they totally sucked today.

*Sorry, Dad.

Baby, I’m Back

I’m back from New York, and after a typical moping/whining/sadness episode which occurs every time I leave and involves me watching Sex and the City reruns and complaining on Gchat to anyone who will listen, I’m getting back into the rhythm of life. For instance, just this morning, I ignored my alarm instead of going running. [...]

Gotta Get Down On Friday

Ever since Rebecca Black came out with her breakout hit, life just hasn’t been the same–at least the countdown to the weekend has gotten a lot more entertaining. Anyway, unlike so many people who are going away this weekend, I’ll be staying put in SF, prepping for next week’s adventure in New York. That’s right, [...]

Bring On September

September starts tomorrow? Say what? Seems just like yesterday I was making New Year’s resolutions to get Sexy 2011 off and running. Now, I’ve got two months until my half marathon and four months until 2012. And while I’m sure the greatest adventures are still to come (stay tuned…), here are some highlights from the [...]

Slow by the Dock of the Bay

Slow doesn’t begin to express the pace at which I ‘run’. If I had to rate myself on a scale between the tortoise and the hare, I’d be the snail who moved so slowly, he didn’t even get acknowledged in the story because he’s still on his way to the finish line. Despite this fact [...]