I found one, the Merrell Down & Dirty series, and it was this past Sunday. The race was out by my sister’s house and I somehow convinced her and her friend Amy to run with me. (Thank God, because doing that run alone would have made me cry and just fall into a weeping mess on the grassy field.)

It was hot yesterday. Over 90 and super humid. Even early in the morning. I commented at 7 AM that the temp wasn’t too bad, because it was probably in the upper 70s. But our race wasn’t until 9:30.

We got there super early because my sister and her friend needed to pick up their bibs. One very negative thing I will say about this race (and this might be the only negative thing) is that the packet pick-up and race location were nowhere near each other. I drove an hour out of my way to pick up my bib on Saturday, thinking it would save me lots of time on Sunday morning. It did not. The line on Sunday morning was shorter than the one on Saturday.

So basically by about 7:45, we had our packets and had nothing else to do but wait. We sat in the hot, hot sun and just waited until it got closer to 9:30.

I stayed at my sister’s house on Saturday night, which meant I got to spend some time with my niece Maddie, who is starting to realize I’m the funniest person ever. She has the best baby giggle ever!

When I packed my overnight bag, I was super proud of myself for remembering to pack sunblock, knowing this was the first time my winter white skin would be exposed to the sun for any length of time.

Fast forward to Sunday morning, and I realize that I left my sunblock back at my sister’s house. I almost hear my skin sizzling with this realization. Thankfully my sister went into mom mode and decided to find us some. She asked some guy spraying something on himself if we could borrow it, but realized it was athlete’s foot spray and not sunblock. BUT! Athlete’s foot guy told us the Subaru booth had sunblock. And they did! And my skin was saved!

(I totally registered and added my name to every mailing list they had then, because a million emails is worth the fact that I’m not painfully burnt. Thanks Subaru!)

Finally it was close to 9:30. We got in line. We were in the last heat. I didn’t mind since I am a slow runner and I had no clue what to expect. Close to 10 AM, right when it was getting nice and warm and humid and the lovely breeze was dying down, we finally started the race.

Every time I run, I hate the beginning. It makes me hate running and I never understand why I started this stupid hobby in the first place. Add in a trail on not smooth ground, blaring sun, and I was ready, after about 2 minutes, to turn around. I didn’t.

When I told my sister about this race, she was like “OH MY GOD, THE HILLS!!” She knows this farm where the race was held because she used to live right there and go 4-wheeling on it. When she said this my mind thought “it can’t be that bad, I mean we’re in Illinois for Christ’s sake, it isn’t a mountain range.”

We got one mile into the race and there was our first mud puddle and third obstacle. This was a giant fence to climb. I ran most of the first mile. Until my sister pointed out the hills. And then I realized that those were not hills, they were mountains. With inclines steeper than any street in San Francisco.

Do you see it in the background? THIS WAS NOT THE WORST ONE!

This was the second time I wanted to quit.

I jumped in the giant mud puddle, fell on my ass and then climbed the wall. Mud is heavy. And it was only really on one of my shoes and my hands. But I walked up those hills. I thought I was literally going to die or pass out, but I did it. The worst was getting to the top only to realize there was more to climb.

After the second one, my sister took off. She ran when there wasn’t a hill and I did not. I needed to catch my breath. I figured I’d start running again once the hills ended. But it seemed as if they would never end.

We got to some more obstacles – more climbing – and then I ran into my sister’s friend. I decided to walk with her. From there on out, we walked almost the whole rest of the race in between all the obstacles.

There were 11 obstacles in all. They left like four or five until the very end. And they were like some of the hardest. The ones that required upper body strength were the ones I dreaded most. The climbing wall and the slippery rope wall were right near the finish line. I almost fell off both, but I didn’t. I made it up both.

One of the other final ones was a tarp pit filled with mud. I figured, being tall, that it would come up to my knees and I’d walk through it. Oh, hahahahaha! I couldn’t have been more wrong. I did a combo bellyflop/faceplant into this pool of mud. And then couldn’t figure out how to get back up. It seriously had to be one of the funniest things those people had witnessed all day.

I figured it out, got out of there, ran to the last mud pit and leisurely doggy paddled my way to the finish line. (I kind of forgot it was timed and do you know what is refreshing on a 95 degree day after running 3 miles and doing 10 obstacles? A giant pool of mud. No lie.) (Although, I’ve never been that dirty in my life. There was mud where mud shouldn’t be. It was squishy in my squishy parts.)

It took me one hour and one minute. I’m not proud of my time. I wanted to do better. I want to be able to run in the heat and humidity. My goal is to really train this summer to get myself used to it. I don’t want to be such a wuss again.

But my sister! I’m so proud of my sister, you guys! She had back surgery like a year ago. And she just started running like two months ago when we signed up for this race. And she not only finished, she rocked it and finished ahead of me by like seven minutes. And now she’s hooked and wants to do more races and more mud runs! I’m so proud of her! She did so good!

Overall, it was actually really fun! I’m excited to do another one in July with my SIL and hopefully my sister. And I’m excited to get into training mode and teach my body to deal with this heat and humidity like a normal person.

This race has to be one of the harder mud runs, especially with those hills. The people in charge of the obstacles are all Marines and they don’t let you quit. There is no skipping the obstacles and running around the climbing wall. And they don’t mess around with those obstacles. I didn’t think I could do it. I really didn’t. And I am really glad that I did. And that I have the bruises (and SORENESS, OMG!) to show for it.

I was thinking that I’d really like to run it in Tempe next year. But it was like 100 degrees there this year, so I’m not sure about that. It was 40 here. Quite chilly, in fact, as we all stood around waiting for our race to start and I was glad I wore my jacket. (Although, I wasn’t glad as I started moving around and was a bit too warm with it on.)

There were about 20 people who ran. I was the slowest runner on the trail. I started out at the end of the pack as the real runners took off like rockets. I ran a lot of the race in last place. I really, really didn’t want to finish last, but I really, really didn’t want to overdo it.

So I ran my own pace. I had my phone and listened to the live Nerdist Podcast that I saw the week before. It was a nice refresher since I forgot some of the hilariousness. I wanted to run the whole thing and knew that slow and steady was the way to go.

The race was actually on a path that is right near my house, one that I run on every weekend. A little after mile 1, we hit the turnaround at the northern-most part of the race. About that time, we had a few walkers. I finally was ahead of someone! Yay!

I just kept it going. Kept to my pace. And then people started walking more. And people started running slower. By the time we got to the next turnaround, a bunch of people that had lapped me had finished, but I had also moved ahead of a few people.

I really wanted to walk near the end. But the odd thing was it wasn’t because I was unable to run. It’s completely a mental thing. I wanted to walk because I could. And I felt like it was too much and I was overexerting myself. But I wasn’t. I was fine. So I kept running.

I finished in 42 minutes, according to my GPS. It was also a little shy of 4 miles. BUT! I ran for 42 minutes straight without stopping. FORTY TWO MINUTES! That is a first. I’m super proud of myself and how far I’ve come. I remember when three minutes straight was HARD.

Now that I know I can do it, I hope that helps my brain not always want to walk when we don’t need to. Either that or I’m pretending that every run is a race and I can’t finish last.

So what’s new, internet?

Not much is new here. Which is why I haven’t posted. Because while I could write yet another post about running and eating better, I’ve been really slacking lately. So much so that I had to come up with a real present for April to get my ass to the gym 14 days this month. And as it is, I’m really going to have to work for that present. This month will be a Roku! If anything will get me to work out, it’s some sort of added way for me to be able to watch TV. No more watching streaming things on my computer!

I went to see the Nerdist Live last Friday. I got there late because I went out for beers after work before the show with my sister Alix and her boyfriend. And drinking 8% alcohol beers on an empty stomach is always a good idea. But we had a fun time, which was why I was late.

But we only missed a small bit of Matt Mira’s performance and saw the whole rest of the show. It was absolutely hilarious. If you ever have the option to see it, or even any of those dudes do stand-up live, GO DO IT NOW. They are some funny motherfuckers. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!

We didn’t wait around after the show to meet the boys, since the line was insane and I was drunk and we were both hungry. I will have to seduce Chris Hardwick some other time. Some other time…

After the show we went across the street to grab some food at the grilled cheese restaurant. There I had the most amazing sandwich – grilled cheese with chorizo and jalapenos. I’m still thinking about it. It was so yummy.

On Saturday morning, I drove up to Milwaukee to visit her and her family. It was the end of Passover, so I drove up to visit, eat matzah, play Catan and make a million melty bead creations. And really, minus the matzah, it was like any other time I get to hang out with the Martells, AKA always awesome!

I have zero patience for melty beads. I have ideas of how to make it cute, but then three seconds of having to dig through a giant bucket of beads that have 17 different shades of blue and I’m done. I’ll use the first bead I pull out of the tub and call it a day. I have so much admiration for Ali and her kids, who will painstakingly search for all the golds to make a cute peace sign. Or even something that matches.

It’s why my creations end up like this ugly monkey:

As an added bonus, the Martells flew out of Chicago on Monday and I got to meet them for lunch before they flew back to Canadia. I had taken the day off to get all my errands done anyway, so it worked out perfectly. We went to a Kosher diner near my house that had a really amazing burger. I really wanted cheese on it and well, then remembered I was at a Kosher diner. Dairy and meat, no mixy, mixy.

After that, I went home, went grocery shopping and then came home and took a nap at 5 PM. This was the least smart thing I had done. It was the opposite of my brilliant decision to get a chorizo grilled cheese. Yep, still thinking about that sammich.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep on Monday night. That led to me being super sleepy all day Tuesday, falling asleep on the train both to and from work, and walking around half the day with my pants zipper down.

So I went to bed at 9 last night. Skipped my run and everything. Which means my 4.2-mile race this weekend is going to be interesting.

But it’s for a good cause.

I was lucky enough to meet Pat Tillman when we were both at ASU and was honored that the Cardinals organization asked me to help work his memorial in San Jose after he was tragically killed. I’m glad to be taking part in the Chicago race this year and am planning to make it to Tempe next year.

First there was the fact that I was up, wide awake at 4 AM dying of thirst. This was to be blamed on the many pints of beer and glasses of wine I consumed on Tuesday night while out with a friend.

I know better than to drink on school nights. I know that it fills my night with restless sleep and usually panic attacks over the lack of being able to sleep. It doesn’t matter if I have one drink or 20.

When my alarm went off, I did what I do every day – I turned it off and then reset the alarm for 30 minutes later.

Well, at least that was what I thought I did.

Apparently I shut off the alarm and then reset the clock 30 minutes ahead.

Fast forward 20 minutes to see me losing my shit because I thought it was 7:30 and I was running super late and no one likes to be jolted out of bed. And also, why didn’t the alarm go off?

I looked at my phone and it said it was like 6:45. I didn’t believe my phone. I rationally assumed my manually set alarm clock was correct and my cell phone was wrong and the world’s clock was off!

So here I am, half asleep, exhausted, pushing buttons on the alarm and my phone, then checking the clock on the Fitbit just to figure out what damn time it was. There was a lot of nonsensical speech and arms flailing until I got my wits about me, some five minutes later.

It’s a good thing I am not in charge of taking care of human lives since I’m dumbfounded by the workings of a clock and how to tell time.

And as an added bonus, I give you the world’s least unflattering photo of someone running. Caption: “Kill me now!”

Caption that, friends.

You’re welcome.

I’ve done this race once before. That time was on even less training. But I was also five years younger. This time around I had made it to the end of the Couch to 5k program and had run a solid 30 minutes straight. Too bad the Shamrock Shuffle is 8k. Which is an additional 3k. Or almost 2 more miles!

I was super nervous. I’m not sure why. Nothing was riding on it except my pride. I knew that if I walked, it would not be the end of the world and even if I walked the whole thing, I would still finish in the allotted time and not be kicked off the course.

But something about having to walk when you’re running it such a mental sucker punch. Mentally it makes me feel like such a failure. Forget the fact that I’m RUNNING. And I am running for many minutes in a row, something I couldn’t do eight weeks ago. It doesn’t matter because mentally it feels like someone kicked my dog.

I ran with Katie and tried to warn her that I run slowly. Despite my long legs, I have a very short running stride. Taking longer strides fucks with my mind and my breathing. Running: A constant mindfuck since the dawn of upright humans!

Katie is the same height as me and also has very long legs. She does not, though, have a short running stride. She’s also run a half marathon and is much more experienced runner than couch-to-5k me.

We moved closer to the end of the 40,000 runners at the start line. I think we hit the start line over an hour after the race had begun. Before we even hit the starting line, the elite runners were already done and on their third banana.

Katie started off like a rocket. Because she is tall, with a long stride and hates crowds. I too hate crowds, but cannot run fast to save my life. I don’t think it would be possible even if a zombie was chasing me.

I tried to keep up and I slowed her a little, but I think our first mile was a nine-minute mile. Considering I had been running 12-minute miles, I was about ready to quit after the first mile. But I didn’t.

I did walk sooner than I wanted. And regretted not going pee and drinking that second bottle of water before the race. That water and the RUNNING SO FAST gave me a side stitch and made me want to vomit for basically the rest of the race.

We slowed it down quite a bit, but I still had a few sessions of walking as the race went on. And then the sun started scorching me and I realized long, black yoga pants were not a good call, and basically, I wanted to die.

Katie had enough of me during the last half-mile and blew past me and everyone else and met me at the finish line.

The Shuffle is evil and it makes you run up this hill on Roosevelt with like a third of a mile left. You can see the finish line, but you also want to stab a kitten because HILLS! AT THE END! And that SUN! SO HOT! FUCK YOU ALL IN THE EYE!

I ended up walking up part of the hill, but I ran the rest of the way and then all the way to the finish. I tried to sprint through the finish line, but it wasn’t possible. Maybe, had the reward been a fucking TV, I would have sprinted, but I just jogged as best I could.

And I finished! And I would say I ran like 90 percent of it. I tried to make my walking breaks short. My time was under an hour, which was a faster pace than I had been doing – under a 12-minute mile. (And faster than 5 years ago!) Thanks to Katie for keeping me company and pushing me!

All in all, it was a great day. And I’m proud of myself of doing it. And now I’ve signed up for another race in April and will be starting the Bridge to 10k program next week.

So I guess I’m a runner now and not just a “runner”.

I’m skeptical, but we’ll see.

I have an 8k, which is almost 5 miles, on Sunday, March 25. I’m hoping to do as well as I did the last time I ran it in 2007. That time I walked through the water station and for another block or so. That was it. I ran the whole rest of the race.

This year a bunch of other Chicago bloggers are running it too. And I convinced them all to buy this shirt so we can all run together:

I’m looking forward to it!

I’m still running indoors on the treadmill at this point. This is good for me to force me into a steady pace and not run too fast. The problem is the treadmill is SO BORING.

I’ve tried music. I’ve tried every type of music. I’ve tried pop, hip hop, dance, 80s, you name it. But I have adult onset ADD. (Thanks Twitter!) I can listen to something for about 30 seconds before I’m bored and all I’m focusing on is the clock and “how do I still have four whole minutes of running? I HAVE BEEN RUNNING FOREVER!”

TV would be a good solution, but I can’t do Netflix and the running app at the same time. And live TV has commercials. And you know what, when you know a commercial is 30 seconds long, that doesn’t help the whole “make the clock move faster” thing any better.

This week I tried a new approach – podcasts. I downloaded one of the Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me podcasts from NPR. That seemed to help. (It also helped that as I was listening to it, Gossip Girl was on the TV and Blair and Dan KISSED! SQUEEEEEEE!)

But I’m looking for more suggestions for podcasts. There are so many out there and I don’t know where to start. I know Ricky Gervais has some, and I’ll definitely be checking those out. But what other entertaining podcasts are out there? And by entertaining, I mean DISTRACTING. FROM THE RUNNING.

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

I’m still going to the gym. Tonight was day 10 out of 20. I’m halfway there. I have to say that people telling me how awesome the Fitbit is is like 100 percent of the reason I end up going most days. I do not want to fail this goal.

I need to figure out something to make as a goal once February is over.

I’m on Week 3 of the Couch to 5k. Last night I ran three minutes in a row. Without stopping. And did it twice in the workout! And I didn’t die! I still don’t foresee being able to run an hour straight for an 8k, but we will see. I have until the end of March for the race.

I’m eating healthy and tracking my WW points too. Even if I overindulge on beer or pizza, I write it all down. I’m taking this losing weight business seriously this time. Too bad the scale is not really cooperating. But I’m focusing on the fact that my clothes are considerably looser and I don’t look like a stuffed sausage all the time. So there’s that.

I know the scale will eventually show off all my hard work. But, it’s still frustrating to be so good and then nothing. I’m really trying not to get discouraged. I am very thankful for my Fitbit goal, because otherwise I might give up and say fuck the gym.

You know what else is good for the gym? Netflix instant streaming. Particularly, Friday Night Lights. If you have seen this show and have seen the very first episode, you can imagine how good of a show it is to work out to! I mean, most episodes end with football games that are very intense! Just what I need to get through the last 10 minutes of a workout. It’s perfect!

If only I could get it to work with the Couch to 5k app and maybe I could watch and run. Three minutes of running straight would probably be a bit easier.

I got a parking ticket on Super Bowl Sunday. I was over at this lovely lady’s house and knew my meter expired at 7:30. But I just forgot to get out there in time to add more money. I got a ticket three minutes after the meter expired. I’m contesting it because I’ve been told there is some five-minute grace period on meters. We shall see.

When I turned 21, my friends Sharma and Amber got me a keychain bottle opened (that I still carry with me every day) and a giant Budweiser bottle bank. Thirteen years later, the bank was about 3/4 full and I decided to go to the bank and cash it in this past weekend.

The bag was HEAVY. I didn’t know how much was in there, but judging by how heavy it was and my tendency to exaggerate, I was guessing a million dollars!

Turns out it was $238, which is still a shit-ton of change. Cha-ching indeed!

Tomorrow I’ll write about the one time I found a pirate’s chest full of gold! No, not really. But man that would be nice for my bank account and for a blog story.

I am no different. And really, it is about time. I couldn’t even start back working out in the gym come the first of the year. It took me until the 24th of this month to actually step foot in there. But, since then, I have been 5 times. (I couldn’t go tonight since I had a late dentist appointment.) (That’s what the kids these days are calling it.) (I wish.)

See, working out has never been fun. I’ve never really enjoyed it. It’s always been a chore for me, never a habit. Yes, I am aware of the benefits. Yes, I feel amazing after I work out. But that is not enough to MAKE me go to the gym. I need more. I need extra motivation.

This year I’m taking part in the Biggest Blogging Loser again that Jennie is doing. That is giving me a bit extra motivation, since there is money and prizes involved. But that alone isn’t going to get me to the gym because shit, I pay for the gym every month and that isn’t even motivation to go. Plus, while I have quite a bit to lose, I’m also 34 damn years old and my metabolism ain’t what it used to be. Weight comes off slowly for me.

I needed some other sort of reward system.

Regan and I are both trying to lose weight and we banter about it daily on gchat and text messages and chastise each other when we eat entire pizzas in one sitting. Recently, she was telling me about this Fitbit thing she got. It’s like a pedometer on crack. It sounded interesting, but eh. Who really cares how many steps you take in a day? It gets old quick, AM I RITE?

Wrong.

She loves it. In addition to steps, it does stairs, which is helpful since I take a lot of stairs in a day. And it also helps track calories burned and your sleep habits. A few minutes on the website and I was sold! I wanted one!

So I decided to turn that into my reward. And instead of rewarding myself for just losing pounds, this reward is based on me actually going to the gym and working out.

My goal is to go to the gym 20 days between January 24 and February 29. That takes into the fact that we have the Super Bowl this weekend and that I’ll be in Arizona on vacation from the 15th-19th.

Apparently this is what I needed. I am going to get this damn Fitbit! I’m going to make the gym my bitch!

Also helpful is that I signed up to run an 8k at the end of March.

Let’s do this!

So remember how I’m going to the gym now? The gym that sucks and apparently doesn’t have locker rooms? Well, they do. As I figured the other day, they are upstairs. All 2,673 stairs. Or at least that’s what it feels like to climb them after working out.

Anyway, so there are signs all over not to leave personal items in your car in the parking lot because they’ve had some incidents or something. Well, since I didn’t see any lockers, I had been keeping all my shit in my trunk. I mean, steal my underwear and bra inside the gym if you’d like. But I kind of need my wallet and keys.

So tonight I ventured up the 18 flights of stairs to take a look-see at what exactly was upstairs. There are two studios for classes. And then there are two doors. Identical doors. With no markings on them. Nor any signs. Two black doors with the same silver circle on it. The exact same doors. Are your getting it? They are the SAME.

I felt like I was on a fucking game show. (Which normally? Good thing.) Which door to choose? Door number one and I win a new car! Door number two and I may just see a naked, sweaty man changing out of his jock strap. (Which, well let’s face it. I’ve been in an NFL locker room. I’ve seen it all.)

Well, I picked the WRONG door. WRONG! I wasn’t sure when I walked in. Because no one was in there. There was a hair dryer. But this is Lincoln Park. I’m sure there are plenty of men at that gym that might use a hair dryer.

My solution? Instead of asking? I decided to look in the lockers to see if things looked like guys or girls stuff. Seriously. Like I was expecting to see high heels and a dress, or a suit and tie. (I did see some Prada shoes, but they did not scream MEN’S SHOES!) This proved fruitless, obviously, and I finally had to leave.

When I walked out the door, I ran into a guy who works at the gym. Who just started laughing. (That was my first clue that I, indeed, had been in the wrong locker room.) When I went into the women’s locker room finally, I realized that the walls were painted pink in here. Blue in the other.

You can’t make this shit up.

Thankfully (or maybe not) there were no naked men or anything. I don’t need any more reasons to not go to the gym.

But hello, gym? SIGNS WOULD BE NICE!

Speaking of the gym, I am always amazed at people who pick up people at gyms. (No, I don’t know any of these people. I hear stories.) Who are these people? How does this happen? I admit, there are quite a few boys I’ve seen in my three days at this gym that I wouldn’t mind making out with, but what the fuck? I’m at the gym. And I don’t want to be there. At. All. And my red, sweaty face should be the first clue. That and the furrowed brow.

Although, I suppose if you do meet someone at the gym, your stock can only go up. Because if you think I’m cute after working out, it only gets better. I usually clean up good. And actually smile.

The funniest thing was one of the dudes dyed his hair over the weekend too. He’s about 20 years older, so he dyed it brown to cover the grey. We both laughed and pointed at one another when we both realized that this past weekend was The Weekend To Dye Your Hair Brown. Did anyone else partake?

And then I had some chick look at me and say something about strawberry blonde. And I must have looked at her with the most fucked up face evah because what?!? What part of this looks either red like a strawberry or blonde, like LIGHT? Like as in the opposite of brown? And this is why I will stand by my position that some people are just idiots.

In other news, guess what I did tonight? I dyed my hair blonde! No. I kid. I kid. But! I. Went. Running! (I thought that could use some dramatic pauses.)

Yep. And I kind of enjoyed it. For the first 12 minutes (a WHOLE mile). Until I got so damn winded I had to walk. (Not too shabby for the first actual aerobic activity in three damn months, you lazy whore.) I not only ran, I went to my damn gym for the first time since maybe April. And on top of it, this was my first time at the new gym that I moved to once I didn’t work downtown anymore. (I won’t point out that I moved to this gym in June. It’s now August.)

And let me tell you, this gym blows. It’s tiny. And it’s hot. And I’m pretty sure there are no locker rooms. (There is some stuff upstairs, but it was like 347 steps up to the top, and no one needs a locker room that bad.) In fact, I think there are no lockers at all. Which means, you just store your bag in a cubby like if you were a damn first grader. But at least it wasn’t too crowded and I didn’t have to wait for a machine. (Someone might steal my underwear, but hey! No waiting!) And there were like 3 cute boys running that I could stare at, which is always quite helpful. Because the only other option was damn Katie Couric on TV and I already have the urge to vomit from the running. I don’t need anything else contributing to that.

But the goal is to keep this up. One, because it helps with the weight loss. And the whole fitting-back-into-the-pants Plan. And two, oh, because I signed up to run a 5k on Labor Day. Not that I can’t walk it, but I kind of want to get back to running. If only because it burns more calories. And more calories burned = more beers I’m able to drink.

And then all will be right in the world.