Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned

It's been nearly 3 months since my last post.

I know. All 3 people who read this have been wondering what happened. And if I were a more motivated person, I would probably have posted something to say that I wouldn't be posting for a while. But I've really not felt like it. And so, the avoidance.

I've been thinking about what, if anything, I want to keep doing with this blog. In some ways, the idea of "Helga's Big Adventure" doesn't seem applicable anymore. It's not like I'm going anywhere. I recently started a new job (which really cuts into my blogging time, let me tell you). This means that I don't really have any vacation accrued. So Todd and I have no vacation plans in the near future. No travel adventures there. Also, in my line of work, I spend all day talking to people and, with the new job, a whole lot of time on the computer. So the last thing I want to do in my spare time is spend more time on the computer having to come up with something witty to write.

Also, my life in general doesn't seem all that adventurous. I work at either Job 1 or Job 2, neither of which I can really blog about. I've been somewhat out of running commission because of my injured leg. But this is changing -- I just did a 5K yesterday and, although I was slower than before I was injured, I was not in pain. So, good stuff. But still, I guess I've lately been feeling like I've got nothing blogworthy to say. I guess I could re-title my blog and take the adventure out of it. But my blogging avoidance is beyond just a title issue.

Several months ago, my mother asked me how Kjerste was doing, and I realized I didn't know because she hadn't blogged in a while. And I felt lame. Sometimes I think I rely too much on blogs and don't pick up the damn phone. I think it might be better to spend time really catching up with the people I care about.

So stay tuned. I may keep on blogging or I may not. You'll figure it out if you read another post any time soon.

The first nice day

Today was the first really nice day of spring. It was about 70 degrees and it felt delicious. All the light and heat made me feel kind of giddy and crazed, and it makes me realize just how much more I appreciate the seasons living here than in California. I spent the day reigning in the desire to raise my arms to the sky in thanks. Well, mostly reigning it in. And looking at my pale, pale, PALE arms makes me think that I probably have some kind of Vitamin D deficiency. Don't shine a black light on me!

I'm not the only one who is made manic by the sun. The streets are filled with people coming out of hibernation and enjoying this one nice day. Its like a colony of ant-people broke open and released its contents onto the streets. It's supposed to be 20 degrees cooler tomorrow. Better enjoy it now.

Yeah, this post is all about the weather. I'd apologize for my lack of imagination, but I don't feel like it. I got to wear flip-flops today.

Cohasset 10K

This is a race I had signed up to do and intended to run yesterday. But it never happened. Sadly, I seem to have pulled a muscle in my right leg (maybe my hamstring?) and I've been in pain over the last several weeks. I still try to run though, which really just means I'm reinjuring myself all the time. I do stop to walk or take some days off when I experience stabbing, shooting pain.

One of the things I had been looking forward to with this race was the location: Cohasset is the town where The Witches of Eastwick was filmed. And nobody likes a Cher reference better than me. Except maybe for Jack McFarland. Dr. Bombay (who actually did run this race) and I had toyed with the idea of running the race dressed up as different versions of Cher. You know, one of us could have been the Bob Mackie version:



And the other could have been the blonde plastic surgery version:


The possibilities were endless. Instead, Dr. Bombay ran with my timing chip in his pocket. So I was there in spirit, if not in costume.

In an attempt to cope with my pain over the last several weeks, I've rested, been massaged, seen my chiropractor and seen my general practitioner. Now I have a referral to a physical therapist, who I'll see tomorrow. I've been told to bring some shorts so he can look at my legs. Of course, I don't own any shorts. It's the Bay Area in me that refuses to believe that I need them or that the world needs to see my pasty legs. And capris are just so much more flattering. Which is what I'll tell him when he asks me to don my shorts: "Really, doctor, capris are just so much more flattering."

Show and Tell

I just discovered a fabulous blog called Stuff White People Like. It's hilarious! Here's a recent Boston Globe story about it. And here's my favorite posting, which is a postcard from the homeland.

Who knew that examining white privilege could be so darn fun! And let me confess: I am the sort of white person who this blog pokes fun at. And I lllllove it!

Also, please note that I am aware that calling this entry "Show and Tell" is really just a fancy way of me saying that I'm calling this one in. But I did spend several minutes finding links, so I feel good. You should too.

Ras na hEireann 5K

Do you have any idea about how to pronounce this? Because I certainly don't. But I (along with Dr. Bombay, of course) ran this race last Sunday. Along with something like 2700 other runners who were all squeezed into the narrow streets of my neighborhood for this Saint Patrick's Day run. That's a whole lotta people. Here we all are:


(Though it's hard to tell, I'm in there. I'm wearing blue and I look like I'm about to push a woman with a green shirt out of my way. In fact, that may have been what I was thinking about at that moment.) (Actually, on second thought, I don't think I'm in this picture. Oops. I guess it was crowded. But I was probably still thinking about pushing someone out of my way.)

Because of the huge crowd, I found it difficult to navigate my way through, even though the start was supposedly organized by estimated mile time. I imagine that some people think they are faster than they actually are. Which is funny, because I also thought I would be slower than I actually was. After the race, I had a sense that I hadn't gone very fast. My hamstring that's been hurting was complaining and I figured it must have slowed me down. And the clock at the finish line wasn't much help, since it took me a while to even get to the starting line. But then it turned out I ran it with 7:18 miles, which made me very pleased.

You know, I realize that this may be a somewhat boring post, especially to those who aren't into running. So let me spice it up a bit: I narrowly avoided getting spat on during the race. Now, I can understand having some phlegm build up when you're running fast. But what I don't understand is why one would necessarily need to spit on the street. Especially given the aforementioned crowd. Really, there is no place for the spit to land except on another person. And why is it almost always men who seem to feel the need to do this? Hey Boys! Spitting in public and on others doesn't make you more of a man!

So here's what went down: I was coming up alongside some guy in the race in preparation to pass him. Then he spat and I narrowly avoided the loogie. I yelled out and he said nothing, though he had a smug little smile on his face.

And then I passed his dumb ass.

Helga's Life Lessons

The following are important life lessons that I have learned over the last several months. Feel free to submit some of your own in the comments. (And please note that I am not intending for "Asking people for comments guarantees that nobody will leave any" to be a Life Lesson. Ahem.)

1. When suffering from a sinus headache, it is not wise to look for something under the bed by dangling upside-down off of it.

2. If ice frozen on the sidewalk is clear, it is very slippery; if it is whitish, it is less so. Also, ice seems less slippery when you run over it than when you walk over it. And if the ice is covered with a layer of water from a recent rain, you will slip no matter what.

3. No matter how much "leather protector" you spray on a beat-up pair of shoes, they will still look bad.

4. Wearing a pair of corduroy pants while sitting in a velvet chair creates a lot of friction.

5. When you happen to see your bare arms in the mirror and almost don't recognize them because they are so pale, it means that you are ready for spring.

6. When leaving a voicemail for somebody, never, ever use the word "awesome."

7. It hurts to look directly into a laser pointer.

8. Daylight savings time is a cruel joke.

9. A fuzzy, white hoodie sweater is never a good idea.

10. You know you have watched too much HGTV when you reflexively say "Added value!" every time you see granite countertops.

11. If you avoid wearing mascara in part because it makes your lashes look too long, you're not a make-up person.

12. If homeless people compliment you on your haircut, it means you've got a good stylist. It could also mean that you are in Harvard Square a lot.

13. The best way to deter those people who want you to sign a petition and try to pique your interest by asking "Do you care about the environment?" is to answer "Actually, no." And walk quickly away to go buy your soymilk.

14. The best way to shock somebody in the Boston area is to be courteous to them while on public transit or while driving.

15. The second-best way is to tell them that you don't like baseball and that you routinely root for the Red Sox NOT to make it to the World Series just so the season will end sooner. Or maybe this is actually the best way to shock a Bostonian. Hmmm.

16. If a cop is waving his arms at you in a construction zone, it means he wants you to stop, even if he's on his cell phone, is not wearing any reflective gear, and generally looks disinterested.

17. If you decide that you "don't need" your gloves while running on a cold day, your hands may temporarily become unresponsive lumps.

18. It is really difficult to peel a parking permit sticker off your window by shredding it into a thousand pieces with an Exacto knife.

19. When running, the best way to get a large clump of people who are coming toward you to make room for you on the sidewalk is to just keep running toward them.

20. A good way to kill fruit flies is with a trap made of water, dish soap, and balsamic vinegar. Unfortunately, the gnats that sometimes take up residence in houseplants are immune to the lure of this concoction.

The Hyannis Half Marathon

You know what's a really good way to distract yourself from grieving? Run 13.1 miles!

On Sunday, I did just that in Hyannis, MA. Since my grandfather's funeral happened on the day he died, there was no way I could get out to California for it. So I figured that since I stayed here, I might as well do the race I'd been preparing for. I decided it would be a memorial run for him. He wasn't a runner. He was damn stubborn, though, and wasn't one to be deterred from doing what he wanted. So I channeled this energy and ran with Dr. Bombay.

The race didn't seem particularly well-organized in that there weren't really enough Port-o-lets. The race started when we were still waiting in line to pee. Which meant that by the time we crossed the starting line, we were all the way at the back of the pack. This led to passing lots of people and sometimes getting stuck behind particularly large, slow-moving herds. I did not push anyone out of my way, though it occurred to me. I will say that there is something very, very satisfying about passing so many people. Mwahahaha!

Luckily, the weather was nice: Clear, in the mid-30s, and with only a light breeze. I know, my definition of "nice" has changed since moving to Massachusetts. I ended up running faster than I thought I would (8:13 miles). I found this especially surprising because of how slow and crowded the start and first few miles were. But, hey, in a race that long, I guess you've got plenty of time to make it up. Dr. Bombay also ran faster than he anticipated and we both ended up finishing long before Todd, our official photographer for the event, made it to the finish line. Sorry -- no pictures of me sweaty and half-dead. But here's a picture of us waiting in line for the Port-o-let:


I think channeling my grandfather's stubbornness helped propel me. Every time I wanted to stop and stretch in somebody's front yard (because, damn, were my legs tired), I just told myself (yelled internally, actually) to keep going, @#$! So that's what I did.

Thanks, G-pa.