not only do my sister and i share the same voice, but....

we have the same obsession for our cats. we call each other and leave voicemails for the other solely of our cats meowing.

if my sister and her boyfriend break up, i can see us living together in a one bedroom apartment (twin beds with a little night table in between) with our sixteen cats, bitching and complaining with white hair and bad track suits...ooh, getting old can be fun!

so i'm totally obsessed

...but when i saw the new ads on the subway for the nyc marathon, i was SO excited!!! i can't wait--39 days until i run 26.2!!!!

a sad thing

i was at my gynecologist today when she asked me, "is your relationship over?"

"yes," i told her.

"oh that's so sad. a sad thing. so sad," she told me.

adventures in running; or, i did not see any guns on my run this morning

on wednesday i was so excited about running an excellent speed workout, giving my all my final 800 meters and running 7 seconds faster than my fastest so far. who know thursday's workout could hardly compare?

cara and i met and ran over the 59th street bridge (aka the queensboro bridge) into manhattan. i am trying to run over the 59th st bridge as much as possible to practice for the marathon (ugh, mile 15 or 16, ow). we ran down york and then 1st, until the stupid cops yelled at us over by the UN and made us run across a street and climb across cement barricades. we ran down along the east river park, both of us a bit tired but feeling well.

we began running across the williamsburg bridge when i heard jingling. no one else was nearby us on the pedestrian walkway and when i turned to the road below us (maybe 5 or 10 feet below us), i saw a guy walking/running through the cars, keys jangling around his neck, while a cop jogged alongside him. "hmmm, maybe he had an accident." i didn't think much of it...

until i noticed a man standing, pointing his gun. a gun. this is new york still, but still, OMG, a gun! and i'm running in my cute little running outfit several feet away. his back was to me but he was pointing a gun.

i grabbed cara's arm. "run. run! quick!"

"what?" she hadn't seen anything.

i began sprinting in the opposite direction, towards where we had just run from. "a man. with a gun. a gun."

"oh my god!"

cara began sprinting and when we heard something clatter, we feared for the worst and RAN. we run every day but this day, i was convinced we were running for our lives.

the cars were all completely stopped, the cops having blocked traffic completely. cabbies and confused commuters asked us, "what is it?"

"a gun. a guy with a gun!" it was hard not to be hysterical. sure, you see people with guns in movies, but the last place--a place i've been running since i was 19--i expected to see a gun was here, at 7am, during the crush of rush hour. maybe when cara and i explored bedstuy and bushwick, neighborhoods known for seedier histories, but the bridge, where many biked and ran and walked over every day, for work and pleasure?

"what are we going to do?"

i was not running across the bridge if someone had a gun--no, i think i don't feel like getting shot on my run. not on my plans for today (or any day, to be honest). we could hitchhike to the other side of the bridge, run home from there. the traffic was flowing unimpeded in that direction.

"my phone! shit! my phone!" cara realized her phone had fallen in the sprint--that was the clatter, not gunshots as we had thought. we realized it wasn't as far where the guy with the gun was so we began walking rather cautiously over the bridge until we saw it.

and then we saw, walking in traffic, in handcuffs, was the guy, with many cops surrounding him.

we ran home, silence alternating with discussions of what we had just seen. i've lived in new york my whole life save two years, and have never seen this before. no more gossip about dating or complaints about work; right now, i'm just happy to be alive and running.

oh no!

i accidentally broke my "no outfit is complete without a fabulous purse" mug.

i got it as a favour at a bridal shower. teehee.

i ran twenty miles this morning

...my longest run yet. my body is aching but i am so proud of myself. i ran most of the time with a portfolio manager for jpmc (although he only ran 16 miles) and found the last ten miles the most difficult. when they told me on my final lap i of central park i only had to do three miles, i kissed the nyrr official on the cheek.

the best part of the run was when the 8:30 runners came behind me in the last half-mile and were singing frank sinatra's "new york new york." it was a very emotional time and exciting part of my run.

and tonight i will soak in a hot bath with epsom salts and lavendar oils before going out....and my appetite is never squelched the day of a long run.

today's run--splash

cara and i were almost done with our 80-minute run today (in the last mile, or even, last half-mile, perhaps), chatting, running, sweating, in the foggy morning mist. we were running down kent (a messed up road with enormous puddles in it because the drains were too high up for the water to flow down) and passed a stopped car with two men in it. several minutes later, we heard the car gunning its engine...and a loud SPLASH!

the car sped through an enormous puddle, soaking and shocking us. i immediately gave the guy the finger, but then looked at cara, who looked as shocked as i was. we looked at the car driving slowly down the road (the intentionality of the act was obvious) and then back at each other.

and began laughing hysterically.

to just intentionally splash two running women? what the fuck? but somehow, it was hilarious.

we ran home the last minutes, and both of us showered shortly afterwards.

what's really been making me happy lately

on my runs i've been catching myself: a huge smile seems to be across my face at most times. whether i'm running with someone or alone, as long as i'm laced up in my sauconies and moving fast, i'm happier than any other time. i can't help but smile...

how the pro-choice movement saved america: a book review

I just finished Cristina Page's fabulous book of the above title, an overview of choice, family, and its opponents in the US. In case you didn't know, anti-choicers (who like to call themselves pro-life) are also anti-family. These anti-choicers are also often anti-birth control, and if you don't have birth control, you are going to end up with abortion. The "abstinence-only" education that America's moronic president is funding and encouraging is only leading to teen pregnancies at astounding rates or riskier behaviors. The latter reminds me of a now-defunct yet hilarious website, Technical Virgin, that had fake ads of teens saying things like, "My boyfriend was pressuring me for sex, but I want to save myself and do good in college. So now my friend and I put a live girl-on-girl show for our boyfriends. We pleasure ourselves and prevent our cherries from being popped," OR, "I was so worried about getting pregnant and wanted to save that for marriage. So now my boyfriend gives it to me up the butt and we don't have to worry about that." That is so scary because teens are actually doing it.

And choice is VERY, VERY important. Without choice, we are locked into religion controlling our government.

Roe, roe, Roe v. Wade,
Our bodies are our own,
A woman's choice is a human right,
So leave the cunts alone.

it's september 12th today

i went for my pre-dawn run today and the towers of light were still visible, and the empire state building still blasting redwhiteandblue. ran quite far and quite fast, meditating in my own way on my life and life in general.

Quote by Nina Kuscsik, marathoner

"I've always felt running is a form of meditation. Running enables us to stop our lives, to go out and find a safe place for ourselves."

autumn tonight, on 11 september

i avoided the media today. people from our west coast office sent a notice over to us that they are thinking of us. but i knew what it was, and that was partially the reason i was feeling down.

in memoriam to all those who have suffered since that day, from those that were killed on the 11th of september in nyc, dc, and pa, as well as those who have been killed in afghanistan, iraq, and anywhere else the usa decided needed to be cleaned of "terrorists."

riding my bike home from jp's house, i saw the redwhiteandblue of the empire state building, saw the towers of light. safe in my home, food in my belly, i feel lucky.

things that are going on

i'm feeling a bit depressed today. it could be the lack of sleep catching up to me, or the fact that my apartment is super messy, or the fact that i lost *everything* in my pocket pc when the battery died and everything got erased, or it could be the fact that i'm listening to bob dylan and feeling broken-hearted (he always creates that feeling in me, or emphasizes it if i feel it already), or it could be the feeling that it's the 5th anniversary of september 11th attacks.

i was thinking: people mention things like d day or pearl harbour attacks, and youngins are like, "yeah, so what? we don't get a day off and we weren't there and what happened anyway?" i wonder how long it will be before those people are around and how long it will be before new yorkers feel safe and the pain lessens? i suppose we'll need those pesky, rude, and obnoxious tourists to stop mugging for photos in front of a construction site where thousands of people died.

but back to bob, back to work. i know that sadness is only temporary. there are clouds but there is sunshine too. i'm relatively happy, even if the sadness (and stress) has been clouding my dreams lately. this is a time when i need a roommate (as marie had done before) to shout, "cherie you are NOT listening to this! we are putting on happy music."

most likely you go your way and i go mine (bob dylan)

You say you love me
And you're thinkin' of me,
But you know you could be wrong.
You say you told me
That you wanna hold me,
But you know you're not that strong.
I just can't do what I done before,
I just can't beg you any more.
I'm gonna let you pass
And I'll go last.
Then time will tell just who fell
And who's been left behind,
When you go your way and I go mine.

My favourite things about summertime: In mourning of summertime

My dads tomatoes
Amazing fresh produce
Most fruit being in season (ooh, ripe luscious peaches are my latest addiction)
The beach
Running in shorts and a sports bra and socksÂ…how freeing
Miniskirts
Sandals
Sand in toes
No jackets, mittens, scarves
Free concerts, free plays, free things outdoors
Running in the summer
Open windows
Walks with Luna in the park
Iced chai
Rooftop parties
Sweaty kisses
Drinking the air
Sunsets
Fireworks
Barbeques
Parties in parks and yards
Outdoor sports
Naps in the sun
Spending the day outdoors

why i love running in new york city

on a seventeen miler yesterday, i saw two guys boxing on the side of the reservoir.

an imaginary conversation

he said, "you've changed since we broke up."

she said, "yes, i've started wearing eyeliner."

shout out to wanda

wanda, i fucking love you. thank you for all your help with my recent (personal) crisis. i know talking about these issues must have been hard for you, bringing up all those bad memories, but you really helped me heaps. i love you for that! wanda, you rule!

from bob dylan's desolation row

Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain

and then you think,

"wow, i am so glad we are no longer together."

you never thought you'd say that, right?

(note: the you is not referring to a specific you.)

i know i'm hot, but really, must you constantly remind me?

in training for the nyc marathon, i am covering a lot of mileage. i typically wear my sauconies, socks, shorts, and a sports bra. (if it's cooler, i add a t-shirt but i prefer wearing as little as possible, being as lightweight as possible while running.) and it seems so many men have never seen a woman running before. or perhaps it is, as my running partner cara said, "there is a rule that men must stop what they are doing and stare at women running." must be it.

i'm sick of men leering out windows, honking, whistling, yelling, "complimenting," harassing, shouting, stopping, gawking, licking their lips, giving me the up-and-down...come on, i'm a sweaty woman running and i'm obviously not interested in you. i'm focusing on my training, on my sport.

maybe--this must be it--if i see someone who strikes my fancy after yelling a "nice ass" i might rip off my clothes, fling myself on the front of their car and say, "let's just do it right here." is that it?

does paula radcliffe deal with this? deena kastor?

i really am fed up with the shouting, the harassing. i just want to do my run and be left alone.

my run is for me not for you fuck you my run is for me leave me alone my run is for me

running

i ran 19 miles yesterday, and 10 miles today.

i'm proud of myself.