Currently I'm reading Love in the Asylum. I thought I'd take a break from the deep heavy novels I had been reading and cozy off into the corner with a light, a bit brighter book, or at least I hope. I haven't been able to do much reading so I'm sure these post will be few and far between. I can only afford to read a chapter a night, and by chapter, they are usually 4 pages. Yep, that's the life of the much too busy and I don't like it.
I haven't gotten much into this book yet (probably just 30 pages in) but so far I enjoy the writing and I find that surprising. I keep expecting it to be cheesy or awful but it keeps twisting and turning in directions I don't expect and I find that refreshing.
As for the running, well I just work out right now. I don't think I'll be doing more long distance race running until I get my back checked out. For as long as I can remember, I've had a stiffness in the lower right hand side of my back. I just lived with it as through out the years I've grown accustomed. However, searching back through my memory data banks, I realized that the pain coincided with a car accident I had when I was 15. I remember going to physical therapy once a week for a few weeks, but being 15 and volleyball season right around the corner, I discontinued my sessions and that's probably why this stiffness has stuck with me through out the years and is more noticeable now that I actually do things with my back like dancing where I have to use a lot of rib cage action as well as hip movements. So, off I am to see a physical therapist if she can cure me of this back pain stiffness and I can dance and run freely for at least a few more years.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Long Laps, sorry
Sorry for not having written in a few weeks. I just got really busy at work and then decided that wasn't enough, so I got busier in my personal life cuz I don't need free time, who does!? A couple weeks ago I started a Cha cha/Mambo class, a bachata dance class, along with my already once a week choral rehearsals on top of my working out in the mornings along with my new Fall tv shows (Heroes and Ugly Betty). So really, social life, bah! So over rated (I'm totally being sarcastic by the way. I miss you free time!)
But once this month is over, I'll either continue with one more dance class or just wait till January. Starting the end of November, our choral group will be having more gigs, so I'll be needing that free time.
As for the working out? Well, it was going pretty great until I got sick about two weeks ago. It wasn't a horrible cold, but the headache was pretty debilitating and I've still got that crazy stuffy nose, of course all in perfect timing with the Run Like Hell race my nephew and I participated in. It had been pouring all day Saturday, a rain I hadn't seen in ages here in Portland, Oregon. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to run, and at the time, I didn't want to. The thought of getting wet and cold did NOT appeal to me at 11am in the morning. But when I went to go pick up our race packet and saw all those runners huddled in the store, excited, chatting and laughing, I thought, what the heck, I'll do it! But thankfully, the rain gods always seem to be on the side of runners and it was scheduled not to rain on Sunday . . . and it didn't. As mentioned, I had not worked out in about a week, and I stopped running for longer than that (knee problems) so I was a little worried about the race. I still did well, but I was about a minute or two over and I underestimated the length (as I always do). My time was 31:03 for 3.3 miles. Last time it was 29:29. Oh well, I was sick and hadn't worked out, still a good time, no?
As for reading, last night I finished my book, Eyes, Memory, Breath. It was not quite what I expected but it was also not bad. It was a quick read. I find it interesting how negative traditions can pass down generation to generation until someone puts a stop to it. It takes a very strong person to defy tradition. I also find it interesting how many cultures can degrade and put down women all for the sake of their "purity". I know there are many faults in the United States, their policies, their government, but our history has always been to write the wrongs, to make a better place for those who feel that life has been unjust. So knowing my cultural background, and reading about others, I am very lucky and thankful this country has allowed my parents to thrive and teach their children, especially their daughter, that there is more to life than "having" to get married and have children. Don't get me wrong, actually, all I want to do is get married and have a family, but it has been given to me as a choice, not an ultimatum or an expectation. If I had decided to be purely about business with no family in sight, my parents would love me the same. This country, this culture is all about the right to chose: your mate, your lifestyle, your profession, and after going to one of the most liberal colleges in the country, I know what I want and I am making actively choosing it. Sometimes choices can be overwhelming because hopefully for us (women) in this country, there are so many (and yet at the same time, we can be so limited). But, if one looks deep inside of oneself, without the debris of other peoples' "shoulds", expectations and guilt-ridden disappointment, we can all figure out what we want for our lives.
But once this month is over, I'll either continue with one more dance class or just wait till January. Starting the end of November, our choral group will be having more gigs, so I'll be needing that free time.
As for the working out? Well, it was going pretty great until I got sick about two weeks ago. It wasn't a horrible cold, but the headache was pretty debilitating and I've still got that crazy stuffy nose, of course all in perfect timing with the Run Like Hell race my nephew and I participated in. It had been pouring all day Saturday, a rain I hadn't seen in ages here in Portland, Oregon. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to run, and at the time, I didn't want to. The thought of getting wet and cold did NOT appeal to me at 11am in the morning. But when I went to go pick up our race packet and saw all those runners huddled in the store, excited, chatting and laughing, I thought, what the heck, I'll do it! But thankfully, the rain gods always seem to be on the side of runners and it was scheduled not to rain on Sunday . . . and it didn't. As mentioned, I had not worked out in about a week, and I stopped running for longer than that (knee problems) so I was a little worried about the race. I still did well, but I was about a minute or two over and I underestimated the length (as I always do). My time was 31:03 for 3.3 miles. Last time it was 29:29. Oh well, I was sick and hadn't worked out, still a good time, no?
As for reading, last night I finished my book, Eyes, Memory, Breath. It was not quite what I expected but it was also not bad. It was a quick read. I find it interesting how negative traditions can pass down generation to generation until someone puts a stop to it. It takes a very strong person to defy tradition. I also find it interesting how many cultures can degrade and put down women all for the sake of their "purity". I know there are many faults in the United States, their policies, their government, but our history has always been to write the wrongs, to make a better place for those who feel that life has been unjust. So knowing my cultural background, and reading about others, I am very lucky and thankful this country has allowed my parents to thrive and teach their children, especially their daughter, that there is more to life than "having" to get married and have children. Don't get me wrong, actually, all I want to do is get married and have a family, but it has been given to me as a choice, not an ultimatum or an expectation. If I had decided to be purely about business with no family in sight, my parents would love me the same. This country, this culture is all about the right to chose: your mate, your lifestyle, your profession, and after going to one of the most liberal colleges in the country, I know what I want and I am making actively choosing it. Sometimes choices can be overwhelming because hopefully for us (women) in this country, there are so many (and yet at the same time, we can be so limited). But, if one looks deep inside of oneself, without the debris of other peoples' "shoulds", expectations and guilt-ridden disappointment, we can all figure out what we want for our lives.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Breathe, Eyes, Memory
No, I'm not done with the Bitch, but last night right before I went to bed, something was calling to me. I looked down at my organized pile of books at my floor in between my bed and my nightstand and there it was, waiting, staring at me telling me "it's time". Time for what you ask? Time for me to read it.
I was given this book, Breathe, Eyes, Memory, as a Christmas gift 4 years ago. Four years ago was an interesting time in my life in regards to my taste in things. Sure, I still loved movies and books, but what kind I was able to handle had shifted so slightly. For about 2 years or so, I could not watch drama, or read drama. Things had to be chick lit, romantic comedy, comedy, or nothing. I always make it a point to read books I get as gifts or that have been given to me on loan, but I've also made it a habit (now) to read books when I'm ready to read them. Breath, Eyes, Memory is about a little Haitian girl that get sent to New York to live with a mother she's never known after having been raised by her auntie. The back of the books is very vague but dramatic, she discovers an awful secret . . . And as mentioned, about four years ago, I no longer wanted to continue my exploration into drama and human suffering. I'm not a political person, I hate politics really. People get so worked up. I'm sure there are many people that will argue to death with me on my points (are they politicians?) but I'm a person's person. Things strike me more when it's stories about people and their struggles, or how they've over come adversity. I'm not about measure this or measure that, I want to know how this is all going to affect people, how their lives will change. Is it for the better? So I stay out of politics. One of my strengths is also one of my biggest faults: I'm extremely empathetic to the point of drowning in other people's sorrows. I get so consumed by their problems, that I find it hard to find joy in my own life, I feel guilty. This also happens often with fiction. So until I was able to come to terms with this and move on a bit more rationally, I am finally to read books I wouldn't have been able to handle before, watch movies I might not have enjoyed before and read global news . . .
With that said, the books starts out interesting. It reminds me, for some reason, my ethnic studies courses, probably one in which I read the book A small place by Jamaica Kincaid about tourism in the carribbean and how the local suffer. It also reminds me off learning about Cuba and their sugar fields.
On a work out note, things are going well. I felt a bit under the weather this weekend, but tried hard to not fall off the horse. I ran two miles yesterday, met with my trainer today and will most likely run 3 miles tomorrow. I have my and my newphew's registration for Run Like Hell ready to go and stamp . . . sitting on my table. I forgot it, but tomorrow! Without fail, we will be signed up for the 5k and the kids half mile dash! Go Rodriguezs!
I was given this book, Breathe, Eyes, Memory, as a Christmas gift 4 years ago. Four years ago was an interesting time in my life in regards to my taste in things. Sure, I still loved movies and books, but what kind I was able to handle had shifted so slightly. For about 2 years or so, I could not watch drama, or read drama. Things had to be chick lit, romantic comedy, comedy, or nothing. I always make it a point to read books I get as gifts or that have been given to me on loan, but I've also made it a habit (now) to read books when I'm ready to read them. Breath, Eyes, Memory is about a little Haitian girl that get sent to New York to live with a mother she's never known after having been raised by her auntie. The back of the books is very vague but dramatic, she discovers an awful secret . . . And as mentioned, about four years ago, I no longer wanted to continue my exploration into drama and human suffering. I'm not a political person, I hate politics really. People get so worked up. I'm sure there are many people that will argue to death with me on my points (are they politicians?) but I'm a person's person. Things strike me more when it's stories about people and their struggles, or how they've over come adversity. I'm not about measure this or measure that, I want to know how this is all going to affect people, how their lives will change. Is it for the better? So I stay out of politics. One of my strengths is also one of my biggest faults: I'm extremely empathetic to the point of drowning in other people's sorrows. I get so consumed by their problems, that I find it hard to find joy in my own life, I feel guilty. This also happens often with fiction. So until I was able to come to terms with this and move on a bit more rationally, I am finally to read books I wouldn't have been able to handle before, watch movies I might not have enjoyed before and read global news . . .
With that said, the books starts out interesting. It reminds me, for some reason, my ethnic studies courses, probably one in which I read the book A small place by Jamaica Kincaid about tourism in the carribbean and how the local suffer. It also reminds me off learning about Cuba and their sugar fields.
On a work out note, things are going well. I felt a bit under the weather this weekend, but tried hard to not fall off the horse. I ran two miles yesterday, met with my trainer today and will most likely run 3 miles tomorrow. I have my and my newphew's registration for Run Like Hell ready to go and stamp . . . sitting on my table. I forgot it, but tomorrow! Without fail, we will be signed up for the 5k and the kids half mile dash! Go Rodriguezs!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Holy Soreness, Batman
So, I failed to mention yesterday that not only had I started The Bitch in the House, but I also met with my trainer from the gym. 7 am! I used to like to come home and work out, but as of the last few years, I got used to running or working out in the early mornings to "just get it over with" and it's stuck. It's nice to just get home and unwind after a full days work and work out, and it's still fairly early. Anyway, since it was our first day together, I think we just did about a half hour of a work out, but she was pushing me. We focused on legs, upper body and abs. Abs is a big thing for me cuz I'm a complete laze about it. Anyway, after my 3 mile jog this morning, I can finally feel the repercussions of yesterday. Ouch!
It's interesting to read all the different authors in The Bitch in the House. This one I came across yesterday, I didn't particularly like. She did bring up interesting points. In her marriage, her husband is the basically the primary care taker and she has to fight with him over their daughter's attention. I find that to be a bit uncommon in most of my experiences with mothers and children, so I found her essay intriguing, but her style of writing confusing and therefore, off-putting. When I read, writers for me often fall into four categories: writers I like, writers I don't like, writers I wish I was like, and writers I think I am like. It's much like vocalist. There are singers I admire, I don't care for and the ones I think I sound like. This particular writer I was reading, I disliked. I'm not sure if it's because I might write like that and therefore, confuse my audience, or I just didn't like it. The next one however, I found myself identifying with much more with her style of writing. I'm not done with the essay yet because it was getting late, but I am looking forward to finishing it tonight before I go to bed.
I would like to dive deeper into this idea of what a woman's role is in a marriage, a partnership, motherhood, everything the book talks about, but right now I'm a) not inspired (yet), and b) this is a one sided conversation. I'm basically talking to myself. So if I do have anything interesting to point out, I let you (me) know.
It's interesting to read all the different authors in The Bitch in the House. This one I came across yesterday, I didn't particularly like. She did bring up interesting points. In her marriage, her husband is the basically the primary care taker and she has to fight with him over their daughter's attention. I find that to be a bit uncommon in most of my experiences with mothers and children, so I found her essay intriguing, but her style of writing confusing and therefore, off-putting. When I read, writers for me often fall into four categories: writers I like, writers I don't like, writers I wish I was like, and writers I think I am like. It's much like vocalist. There are singers I admire, I don't care for and the ones I think I sound like. This particular writer I was reading, I disliked. I'm not sure if it's because I might write like that and therefore, confuse my audience, or I just didn't like it. The next one however, I found myself identifying with much more with her style of writing. I'm not done with the essay yet because it was getting late, but I am looking forward to finishing it tonight before I go to bed.
I would like to dive deeper into this idea of what a woman's role is in a marriage, a partnership, motherhood, everything the book talks about, but right now I'm a) not inspired (yet), and b) this is a one sided conversation. I'm basically talking to myself. So if I do have anything interesting to point out, I let you (me) know.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Bitch is Back
And no, I am not referring to myself, or anyone I know. While I wait for my boyfriend to get back from vacation so I can borrow Soon We'll be Invincible, or get my books from the library: Feast of Love (soon to be out in theaters, filmed in Oregon) and How to Make Love like a Porn Star, the autobiography of Jenna Jameson (I'm a sucker for real like: memoirs, autobiographies), I've gone back to reading The Bitch in the House, the predecessor to The Bastard on the Couch, (thanks Kelly.)
I very much enjoyed The Bastard on the Couch. It was truly eye opening, funny, and at times moving. I expected the Bitch to be the same. But perhaps because it was the first one and mainly written by pissed-off women, it has quite a different feel, hence "pissed off" and "bitch". When I started to read this book, I was in a transitional phase in my life. I had attained a really good job in the part of town I dreamed of and therefore, moved to. Be nonce to me, I was going through an attachment phase, I was afraid of being on my own. Not necessarily living on my own, but being on my one, alone. My boyfriend had his place, my parents there's and now I have my own. I had been living with my parents for about 8 months until I finally moved out and it will most likely be the last time I'm truly taken care of. My dad is a mechanic, ok, technician as he insists, and takes care of my car. My mom, well, she's my mom. She takes care of my health, my well being, and my mental state. Not only is she my mom, she's also my best friend. I always told her, if we'd grown up together not being mother and daughter, we'd have been best friends. So, I began reading this collection of essays by working women and mothers with spouses and partners and children. Pretty safe. Then, a few of the essays dealt with deaths of parents, moms and dads and well, it just made me realize that I am in that point in my life where I have to think about it. My parents don't have *that* much longer with me and well, I will be left to fend for myself and that is terrifying to me. My friend and I cannot talk about our mothers' changes let alone their deaths, it's too overwhelming. Just noticing the new wrinkle, the new skin spot, or how their walk has slowed down, is just tear jerking. I'd start to read these essays with all the positivity in the world and hit a spot where a parent died and I'd break down. I'm not ready to think about that yet. I'm not married, I'm not "taken care of" yet, I'm not strong enough, and their deaths are just not going to happen. But the reality is that it will happen, I am strong enough, and I don't need anyone to take care of me. I live on my own, have a great job, great pay, and great co-workers. I have great friends, a great family who is also my main support system and finally, a great partner who, when the time is right and he gets his barrings, will be able to "take care of me", even though I know I can do it myself and I've already proven that I can take care of him. It's not that I need to be taken care of, I just want to know I can fall back on someone just in case. My parents have always been that unit. When my brother got divorced, he moved back in with my parents with his one year old. When my other brother couldn't find a job, he lived with my parents during the transition. When I graduated college and came back from my 6 month internship at 2 and a half moths, homesick and jobless, I moved back in with my parents. When I hit my rock bottom just last year, I moved back in with my parents again, and again, and again a million times over if anyone of us needs it.
I know this post is supposed to be about The Bitch in the House, but I wanted to explain why it has taken me so long to get through it. It made me stare a general future in a the face, one that I had been putting off thinking about because well, parents are superheroes, right? I'm finally ready to face that. Not that I'm ready for my parents to leave me. I will NEVER be ready for that! But I am ready to admit to myself that if anything were to happen, if that unit were to vanish . . . I could still do it on my own and seek help if need be. I am NOT alone and I am lucky for that. Not only do I have my brothers, I have their wives and girlfriends who would lend a helping hand. I am so so so lucky for that. If not them, I have friends who are just like family to me.
So, I'm back to reading The Bitch in the House with my new found amo. I'm ready to battle out the insecurity and the fear that overwhelms me with just one word and to tell myself, I'll be ok, I'll be ok.
I very much enjoyed The Bastard on the Couch. It was truly eye opening, funny, and at times moving. I expected the Bitch to be the same. But perhaps because it was the first one and mainly written by pissed-off women, it has quite a different feel, hence "pissed off" and "bitch". When I started to read this book, I was in a transitional phase in my life. I had attained a really good job in the part of town I dreamed of and therefore, moved to. Be nonce to me, I was going through an attachment phase, I was afraid of being on my own. Not necessarily living on my own, but being on my one, alone. My boyfriend had his place, my parents there's and now I have my own. I had been living with my parents for about 8 months until I finally moved out and it will most likely be the last time I'm truly taken care of. My dad is a mechanic, ok, technician as he insists, and takes care of my car. My mom, well, she's my mom. She takes care of my health, my well being, and my mental state. Not only is she my mom, she's also my best friend. I always told her, if we'd grown up together not being mother and daughter, we'd have been best friends. So, I began reading this collection of essays by working women and mothers with spouses and partners and children. Pretty safe. Then, a few of the essays dealt with deaths of parents, moms and dads and well, it just made me realize that I am in that point in my life where I have to think about it. My parents don't have *that* much longer with me and well, I will be left to fend for myself and that is terrifying to me. My friend and I cannot talk about our mothers' changes let alone their deaths, it's too overwhelming. Just noticing the new wrinkle, the new skin spot, or how their walk has slowed down, is just tear jerking. I'd start to read these essays with all the positivity in the world and hit a spot where a parent died and I'd break down. I'm not ready to think about that yet. I'm not married, I'm not "taken care of" yet, I'm not strong enough, and their deaths are just not going to happen. But the reality is that it will happen, I am strong enough, and I don't need anyone to take care of me. I live on my own, have a great job, great pay, and great co-workers. I have great friends, a great family who is also my main support system and finally, a great partner who, when the time is right and he gets his barrings, will be able to "take care of me", even though I know I can do it myself and I've already proven that I can take care of him. It's not that I need to be taken care of, I just want to know I can fall back on someone just in case. My parents have always been that unit. When my brother got divorced, he moved back in with my parents with his one year old. When my other brother couldn't find a job, he lived with my parents during the transition. When I graduated college and came back from my 6 month internship at 2 and a half moths, homesick and jobless, I moved back in with my parents. When I hit my rock bottom just last year, I moved back in with my parents again, and again, and again a million times over if anyone of us needs it.
I know this post is supposed to be about The Bitch in the House, but I wanted to explain why it has taken me so long to get through it. It made me stare a general future in a the face, one that I had been putting off thinking about because well, parents are superheroes, right? I'm finally ready to face that. Not that I'm ready for my parents to leave me. I will NEVER be ready for that! But I am ready to admit to myself that if anything were to happen, if that unit were to vanish . . . I could still do it on my own and seek help if need be. I am NOT alone and I am lucky for that. Not only do I have my brothers, I have their wives and girlfriends who would lend a helping hand. I am so so so lucky for that. If not them, I have friends who are just like family to me.
So, I'm back to reading The Bitch in the House with my new found amo. I'm ready to battle out the insecurity and the fear that overwhelms me with just one word and to tell myself, I'll be ok, I'll be ok.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Done!
I didn't realize I was about three pages away from the end last night, so I ended up finishing the book just a moment ago. One of the passages I enjoyed was:
"Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight.
But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting."
And I hadn't realized how interested I was in their food. As most of my friends know, I don't branch out on food. It's either all American (pancakes, hamburgers, pizza, hot dogs, mash potatoes, turkey . . . ) or Mexican food (it's not even much a variety here really). And even then, I was extremely picky about what *kind* of Mexican food and what *kind* of American food. Chinese too has always been kind of a staple. I'm a sucker for plain white yummy rice. But now that I've become a bit more health conscious, traded white bread for whole wheat, white rice for brown, and so on. Once in a while, I'll treat myself to white rice =) The past few years, I've gotten a bit more into Thai food as well, and tried to branch out into more types of Latin American food: Cuban and Peruvian. It's interesting how the ingredients I grew up with (rice, beans, tortillas) can be done and substituted in so many different ways. Have I mentioned I also don't cook? Yeah, I'm trying to fix that, but I get bored and discouraged . . . also, I try to keep it healthy which is extra hard. Not even a year ago I had my first taste of Lebanese food. We went to a restaurant called Nicoli. I'd had hummus before and just this year I started to get really into it as an alternative to french fries at bars, "Hummas platter please" I'd tell the bar waitress. But at Nicoli, I had hummus, pita bread (omigod! why was I not introduced to this kind of pitta bread before . . . just another thing to add to my "I can't live without carbs" life!) a green salad with wonderful dressing and rice (not to spicy, I hate spice . . . yes weird, I know given my upbringing) and chicken kabobs. I think I'm a lot like my dad in that I like what I like and I don't branch out, but I think this is one place my dad would like. So I've decided I'm going to look up a few afghan recipes and see if I can't make a yummy salad dressing or learn how to make a different kind of rice or how to saute my chicken with different flavors. In the book they always talked about tea, and cauliflower or another vegetable to accompany rice or pita. I want to learn. I want to learn how to make vegetables yummy, how to add to a main dish.
Man, I should call this "she reads, she runs, she writes, she eats!"
"Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight.
But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting."
And I hadn't realized how interested I was in their food. As most of my friends know, I don't branch out on food. It's either all American (pancakes, hamburgers, pizza, hot dogs, mash potatoes, turkey . . . ) or Mexican food (it's not even much a variety here really). And even then, I was extremely picky about what *kind* of Mexican food and what *kind* of American food. Chinese too has always been kind of a staple. I'm a sucker for plain white yummy rice. But now that I've become a bit more health conscious, traded white bread for whole wheat, white rice for brown, and so on. Once in a while, I'll treat myself to white rice =) The past few years, I've gotten a bit more into Thai food as well, and tried to branch out into more types of Latin American food: Cuban and Peruvian. It's interesting how the ingredients I grew up with (rice, beans, tortillas) can be done and substituted in so many different ways. Have I mentioned I also don't cook? Yeah, I'm trying to fix that, but I get bored and discouraged . . . also, I try to keep it healthy which is extra hard. Not even a year ago I had my first taste of Lebanese food. We went to a restaurant called Nicoli. I'd had hummus before and just this year I started to get really into it as an alternative to french fries at bars, "Hummas platter please" I'd tell the bar waitress. But at Nicoli, I had hummus, pita bread (omigod! why was I not introduced to this kind of pitta bread before . . . just another thing to add to my "I can't live without carbs" life!) a green salad with wonderful dressing and rice (not to spicy, I hate spice . . . yes weird, I know given my upbringing) and chicken kabobs. I think I'm a lot like my dad in that I like what I like and I don't branch out, but I think this is one place my dad would like. So I've decided I'm going to look up a few afghan recipes and see if I can't make a yummy salad dressing or learn how to make a different kind of rice or how to saute my chicken with different flavors. In the book they always talked about tea, and cauliflower or another vegetable to accompany rice or pita. I want to learn. I want to learn how to make vegetables yummy, how to add to a main dish.
Man, I should call this "she reads, she runs, she writes, she eats!"
Success
I ran three miles yesterday! Yay me! I did it in 35 minutes, which means I've got to at least shave off 5 minutes of that, more if I've improved. It's actually one of my favorite runs. I take Lovejoy, go over the Broadway bridge then back. It makes me feel like I'm actually going somewhere. It's not too hill, but does have a slight incline. I'm glad I made myself go because honestly, it was 93 degrees outside and I knew I hadn't had enough water, so I really need to be careful.
After the run, I cooled down a bit with some water and made dinner. I was kind of rushing to get out the door so I don't think I ever really cooled down and at the concert with the AC, I got extremely cold, so once again, I have to really be careful with how my body temperature is doing.
On the Kite Runner side, I am so close to being done. I read a little bit after I got home from the concert and didn't want to put it down, but I also wanted to get more sleep than the night before. I might have to sneak in some reading here at work when I can ;)
One of the passages I found this time around that I liked was:
"I sat by his bed until he fell asleep. Something was lost between Sohrab and me. Until my meeting with the lawyer, Omar Faisal, a light of hope had begun to enter Sohrab's eyes like a timid guest. Now the light was gone, the guest had fled, and I wondered when it would dare return."
After the run, I cooled down a bit with some water and made dinner. I was kind of rushing to get out the door so I don't think I ever really cooled down and at the concert with the AC, I got extremely cold, so once again, I have to really be careful with how my body temperature is doing.
On the Kite Runner side, I am so close to being done. I read a little bit after I got home from the concert and didn't want to put it down, but I also wanted to get more sleep than the night before. I might have to sneak in some reading here at work when I can ;)
One of the passages I found this time around that I liked was:
"I sat by his bed until he fell asleep. Something was lost between Sohrab and me. Until my meeting with the lawyer, Omar Faisal, a light of hope had begun to enter Sohrab's eyes like a timid guest. Now the light was gone, the guest had fled, and I wondered when it would dare return."
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