Snoop Dogg Featuring Pharrell - Beautiful ft. Pharrell

Climbing/Running In The Earliest\Darkest Hours

Bob Dylan wrote in a song that 'they say the darkest hour is right before the dawn' (Meet Me In The Morning) which has become a mantra of mine as,
first of all, it is a gift to run my old roads in the dark, and, actually as a result of bloggin this blog, I've come to acknowledge a new way of livening up old routes and that is through nighttime running; it gives the path up entirely to the physical self, eliminating the mind's perception of depth, paces, distance, climb and subsequent effort, it removes the runner's classic most notable ability of gauging and reconciling ability with a quick estimation of the demands of the impending climb and throws in the disruptive newness, the formula that for the runner confuses us especially on roads we swear we know inside and out, upside and downside, running in the dark on roads I'm all too familiar with, sucks the familiarity out and inserts what I call a disruptive newness/unfamiliarity in--the lists and falls are unpredictable in intensity and, because the timing is totally off, the climb gets tough FAST- the nagging wife yanks sub-passionately at my quads, the carpenter's burly vice --in a practical way-- pinches the hamstrings, the shoulders cave, the chin tucks--my body curls into the climb unsure of what the climb will end up demanding because it's like I've never been here before and how fast am i running? how do i know? I listen to to my feet and turn down the music to see what information is available to me, but there isn't much, it's raining, and it's 4:15 a.m. and the ambient light cast from my deadening headlamp illuminates only one foot plant in front of me so my field of perspective is incredibly marginal but in contrast I feel inspired by what I don't know and have to rely on what I know I'm capable of doing because I've been here before, it isn't so much that I haven't the ability to be successful--YET, it's the trickery played on the mind calling in reconnaissance beckoning damage control issuing in the mulligan a moment where confidence in what I felt certain about is swallowed up by insecurity, but it's running and when I get confused I listen to the music play and continue to press the alternating foot down

Bob Dylan - Shelter From the Storm (Alternate Version)

Bob Dylan ~ Shelter From The Storm

It's early enough that I'll finish this tonight and it's late enough for my thoughts to trail which is imperative in this format that I feel like I must stand by despite my want, at times, to use a more firm punctuation ie. the period, however that disrupts the flow of my intent here, it puts stops and pauses where in running there really aren't any stops or pauses --> there are people who have suffered recently, the losses in life that implicate humanness as the fragile and tenuous tiny organism that it really is and then, when at a moment of total consciousness of the concert between flesh and soul, the birth of a child juxtaposed against the most messy a concert of opposites, of wonderful joy and tremendous sorrow, of swelling with love and absolute aloneness, of hearty laughter and weeping loudly, a concert of opposites of cruelty that one must survive or be swept off as a completely fully devastated human woman (in this case), a point where putting a period and moving on becomes the self spoken tough love--a mantra, but there is no period, even if figurative, being in concert this way commands the vulnerability in each of us and when I saw you the other day I hugged you and started to cry but you had done your makeup and looked as beautiful as ever but I know your body still hurts in ways that no mother could endure especially in retrospect while my boys hurl the cantaloupes, swing the celery and you said that you're making great progress with your recovery and the doctor said that soon you will start running again and I am stunned by your strength, for the positivity in your eyes, and for looking beautiful despite the hurt and I love you for wanting to start running again as soon as possible, your first run in many months and I honor running that much more because of you and because what I've insisted as pretty much only a strong metaphor for life for you will become something that you'll rely on -- and if you'd let me, I would love to join you. Period.

Wookiefoot - Be Fearless and Play

55.4 MPH on a Bicycle. My Bike. Snot Rockets.

I have had trouble lately trying to determine what about riding a bike I'd like to talk most about, I mean certainly we have all seen a variety of riders out there on the street and trails and occasionally some of us seek out the bike and performance that best suits us as individuals, certainly that is conversation I am having lately but it is punctuated by the thought of risk that is greater in this sport than in other sports that I've tried lately, I mean gosh, like the only risk in running is that big blue truck that passes me in the pre dawn hour, I swear the driver has yet to drink his or her fill of coffee because the truck negotiates our teeny road with the finesse that you'd expect from a monster truck...very little finesse, actually quite the opposite of it plus factor in wikked wide turns and a thundering motor-I'd much prefer that Buggatti Veyron ride that at $1.5 promises (prolly willing to guarantee, if you're anal like me) that the handling will be so lovely you'd never know you were travelling 110 mph in a 25 mph-- nonetheless, the opportunity to ascertain its handling is like totally not realistic, but FOCUS, today, on my new Michelin tires, I actually hit a new top speed as measured and tracked by the GPS on board...have I piqued your interest? I hit a new top speed of 55.4 MPH on a bicycle, yes a velocipede version of the Bugatti, at least a version that I am willing to, in all kinds of jest, assert that I am deserving of such comparison--maybe it's my new tires, maybe is due to a lack of fear and winters on the slopes scaring the crap out of myself by skiing some fucking fast bursts that feel nearly transcendental like I've liquified or my skis are liquid or like today my tires felt liquid but I felt very tight and strong and in control of the machine but completely reliant on the performance level that these tires had to give and I was so very happy that I lived and it was incredibly fun to go that fast and I'm trying to reel it in so I quit doing messed up stuff like that because today at work the cook insisted that I can only do that kind of riding so many times before I'll have to pay some kind of price (reciting a story about the dish guy who got hit by a dump truck) and I'm not sure the price, not sure how likely I am to fail, but I am willing to risk something regrettable because if I live my life on the very conservative protective side of what makes me feel the most and what registers somehow with passion in my heart, I will plummet into the icky grey white noisy mundane so give me speed and quick breeze and snot rockets and fast times and cars that pass me kinda slowly and keep me safely on my machine because serious injury is really the only thing that will ultimately brake [break] my heart - My first ever bike race is June 17, 45 miles -

Pink Floyd - Is There Anybody Out There?

Time - Pink Floyd + Lyrics

Racing the 20 Mile Distance/Cheeseburger

I'll be totally honest, racing the 20 mile distance was incredibly fun~I could run that distance regularly if the schedule were clear and the calendar wide open but no one has the time for that and these days if I want to log miles at all I'm on the bike, we all have lots we want to accomplish inside of everyday, which is why I'm sitting at the terminal at 2:08 a.m. and writing this blog---the entry wasn't even nagging at me but I had difficulty sleeping and arguing with sleep is not productive so I rise from the bed, make hot cider and doctor up photo ...

Racing the 20 mile distance didn't even cause me much worry compared with other things going on in my life, I came to the start warm (after a quick change into shorts), happy, refreshed, with Sharkies and GU and had a tempo performance in mind; I loved the man at the half split as I strode by he said 'You're half way there! Only 10 miles to go!" I couldn't believe I had only 10 miles left to run --this is the best race ever-- no half split, just a man ...

My pace is pretty good overall, but this pace goes directly to hell for the remaining 6.2 miles of the marathon distance race, had this race been a marathon my pace would have steadily declined worsening for every mile after mile 22 or 24, god that is what makes the marathon such a pain, really the biggest challenge for me, I actually want to do well, want to say I could run the Boston course because I deserve it but that has been an elusive performance goal for all 3 marathons I've run; SO ....

This year, 2012, will be the year of racing 3 marathons that means I'm still on a mission to find that performance that will qualify me as a decent competitor as a runner all around; the epiphany from today's 32 mile bike ride came on heavy and I'm certain that its message is rooted in the stuff I was taught as a youngster: practice, practice, practice makes perfect, training is kinda fun and kinda snooty, but racing and putting forth the most extraordinary effort you can muster is not only a one way ticket to hell in the marathon for some like myself, but also and more importantly has the makings of personal records, wonderful division standings, sweat soaked workout gear and incredibly yummy, well deserved cheeseburgers (with crumbled bleu and sauteed mushrooms on it) ...

I placed 24th in my division of 96 women ages 40-49.

(Special thanks to the firefighter from Mass. who passed me at mile 6 which reminded me that I should be/could be running his pace so I picked it up, followed his heel for 2 miles, initiated the epic re-pass and never saw him again)

A Tribe Called Quest - Vibes and Stuff

Hey Girl. Running: Where Nothing Changes But You. Vibes And Stuff ~ A Tribe Called Quest

Hello readers, enjoy the musical selection while I thank you for your attention to this matter: I love long ROAD MILES, it's true, but for the record training has moved on and picked up in a way that I have missed so desperately since late fall '11 coach has had me relegated to the treadmill and with good reason that subsequently produced great results and allowed me to finish up an indoor half marathon with a 7:54 pace and this is why it's helpful to work with, trust and employ the input of someone who is versed in training both intellectually and physically, I consider myself a total newb in both respects (like about everything) but that's pretty much being humble and recognising myself as never having fully arrived from performance to performance, though at times I'm thrilled by how I ran, certainly what I have going on with running never becomes an accomplishment which sort of carries with it a definite sense of doneness so I come to you with this entry because (well I am a stickler for not over rewarding), for the last couple of years, I started my new year running training with a marathon in March, but this year I decided not to drive to Virginia Beach with all the pomp and circumstance and run the distance, I passed, took a big ol' pass, which failed to enter in as an argument TO register for the VA 26.2 alas the very strong feeling of lostness is now where one finds herself, so in a flurry of confusion I quickly registered for the Eastern States 20 miler, a race that now starts in front of the high school (where I successfully graduated from, ON TIME and stuff) and heads by the house where I grew up (Which is still IN THE FAMILY and stuff) and down the coastline into Massachusetts crossing over the finish line at the 20 mile mark and so I am very excited about this distance, I have never raced it, it's nearly in the middle of the two distances that constantly have my attention and interest, the full and the half marathon, given it's nearly centered there I should find myself in a new category of tired or something or a whole new category of EFFORT one that is touched on in training at times and I know how it feels when I hit that effort it's sort of a cross between oh shit I should stop this because I can stop and I do choose to do this to myself and then it's like oh shit if I stop I make a statement to myself and before I attempt to formulate what that statement is...it's just as well that I choose not to formulate because then I can customize my bail in a very sophisticated way that makes sense to me and because I am nearly always reasonable, ha, second guessing will ultimately unhinge my goal of pushing through challenges and attacking the 20 miles in 5 mile increments and logging hours on the road between this moment here with you and when someone yells GO! in that moment there with them and coming out the other side to enjoy a relaxing cup of coffee, feel largely unaccomplished, and begin the process ALL OVER AGAIN.

Cypress Hill - Hand On The Pump

Cypress Hill MOTM

I've not stopped running, only recovery from some injuries that have finally resolved and I had to switch running shoe manufacturers as Nike is really too sexy for my running habit, unable to stash enough of my favorite shoes under the bed, running out of time really and interviewing every runner I know with a battery of questions keeping in mind distance and training styles; Nike has had to step aside to allow me to seek out a new and dependable shoe -- that quest continues as does training....now, I am nearly in the middle of training for the half marathon in only 5 weeks, this is the one I participate each year around Halloween in North Conway, New Hampshire it's a fun race, my favorite distance giving me plenty of opportunity to restrategize, recover, recompete, rexhaust, refuel and re-empty the tank in the event I took 3rd place last year in my division of 35-39 year old women, this year I am preparing to compete with women 40-44, a group of ladies that are incredibly competitive and athletic and NOT running a good race unless they are of a distinctly badass fitness level so I am going to keep my head straight and do my best and rely on my training, which, right now includes lots of hill and speed work on the TM toggling between quick feet and brief recovery intervals or progressive and relentless climbs at a pace on this side of failure, also some very speedy rides on my 7.5 mile commute to and from work riding a very peppy and lite K2, clipped in, adding this to training is keeping me limber for the weekend 14 milers and helping to stretch the quads after the pre dawn tempos and weight room sessions, Cypress Hill is really the best match for my training program, their compositions are as dark as my star lit center of the road hauls to the gym, i get pretty scared at times (i feel like there are crepuscular iridescent eyes watching me from behind old pines) but CH's music speeds me up and keeps me ahead of the tic that could throw me off tempo, cuz alot of this training shit is about tempo after all, I mean, entering hte stage of periodization approaching the event date, I'm one week into the first microcycle of training--there will be 6 microcycles in this training period before my event, with 5 weeks to go, my mileage will increase with the next to final cycle containing of two 13.1 mile tempos run to roughly simulate my race performance, followed by the last cycle, or, week 5, where i pull back on the reins, I am very excited about periodization while I prepare for this event because i need the freaking map and once it is over, my mileage will drop off some, then increase again and another bunch of cycles will be organized for first event of the new year, a 10K New Year's Day 1.1.12 -- a really hard race for me actually, it's not my favorite distance to race, back to very fast feet intervals, but First things first, THE HALF, I spend alot of time training to Cypress Hill, i recommend it for you.
(this makes me run fast lol)
Being the hunted one is no fun
Here I come son, yo I think you better run
Better run more, and move a little faster
Second of thought and I'm coming to blast ya

_Amy Winehouse - He Can Only Hold Her. (with lyrics)

Nelly Furtado Hey Man

Nelly Furtado, MOTM

I haven't written anything about the marathon or the 40 mile birthday run because I'm still processing what these events mean to me, the marathon race is so far the toughest challenge that I've attempted because of the distress my body feels and I try to be conservative and smart with my execution of the race but the bottom line is that I reach a distinct end in my energy supply and it's never at mile 26.2, it's always before that but this time my end came at mile 24 and that was a ton better than what it was the year prior when it came at mile 20 and felt in trouble but how I feel when it's over is what i really focus on a sense of accomplishment is a positive result and worth all the effort the 40 mile birthday run was also a good challenge one that didn't deplete me as I had predicted but I also paced myself not at race pace but at a pace that would allow me to complete that mission, with the running support of my neighbor Toni, and finally at the end of it I was very tired and slept snugly and now on to wonder exactly where all this ultra running will take me ultimately, and these fairly big weeks of summer mileage, wanting to discover if my dream to run a 100 mile race is really a reasonable one, feeling that fit and that trim, fit and trim enough to complete that race within a 24 hour period would have to be my goal and I won't start it unless i felt certain thankfully I know myself well enough to make the appropriate prediction there before the event so I guess maybe i'll start looking for a 100 mile race and see what comes of it so I chose Nelly Furtado for the MOTM because it was her song that got me stoked for the marathon 'Hey, man!' and my kids like her too which is fun for all of us, her dj scratching very well produced songs all have very real requests inside them and they are tender things i relate to because complicated relationships can be trying and celebratory and intense and lovable and frustrating and new and exhausting even the relationships we have with our children shift across a spectrum of emotions and energy and sometimes, when it feels like I am not recognising my son as he grows and reaches out, it's totally vital to listen to a song that draws it all back together neatly so I don't lose sight of how to really love them and what they do/who they are that gives me a charge and makes me proud and swell with joy, after all, when the day is over and they rest deeply I can do that also and know that we're safe and saved, sometimes maybe, by what we're delicately reminded of through a sweet song.

MOTM Dave Grohl

Something about South Florida that I enjoy are the people, they're laid back in an unexpected way and when you need them the most they're mostly unreliable like the guy who gave me the wrong directions when I left the hotel for a run, which could've presented real problems but for the fact that I can run like the energizer bunny and back tracking won't tax me, whatever, I was told by a couple of young girls intrigued by the length of my hair that I in fact look like a South Floridian, a new found aesthetic of mine I embrace fully and hope to return there asap since clearly that's where I belong--a f'real South Floridian that I met and became fond of was a drummer from a band seen at a smokey bar in Lauderdale by the Sea, like most drummers he rattled off his top three picks Peart, Copeland, Grohl... there is some flexibility there but most can agree that the first two drummers are demi gods to those with strong percussive desires/dreams and then Grohl such a strange pick I think though I get it and while he's the x-factor in a drummer's top three I think its a smart move, did I fail to mention bands play till 4 o'clock in the morning --too much fun--having just enjoyed Iron Maiden, the conversation about Nicko McBrain quickly moved to Dave Grohl who seems like his own brand of monster and who is actually fantastic at many instruments -- like he's good at anything he touches and he's kinda unsettled working all kinds of project not the least of these is Nirvana, Foo Fighters,


you hacked my shit. i know who you are. FOO'

IF YOU HACK MY SHIT....YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS

Slash w/ Dave Grohl & Lemmy Kilmister - Ace of Spades: 2010 Golden Gods...

Wilco - Jesus, Etc (clip)

MOTM Jeff Tweedy

Jesus, don't cry
You can rely on me honey
You can combine anything you want

I'll be around
You were right about the stars
Each one is a setting sun

Tall buildings shake
Voices escape singing sad sad songs
Tuned to chords strung down your cheeks
Bitter melodies turning your orbit around

I know you saw this from a shit shake away that is if you've been watching and listening with a Wilco slant (one reason why this blog is a few days late) that's a big bowl of oranges and what springs from it is a spatter of nutritious juice that is a juicy Mr Tweedy a vitamus spray a lyrically stable significance that clenches a very deep part of me one that is better suited for a world where pretending is effective [just] not to anyone but me or it would be failure a failure as in a text sent hurling into the undesired future of the recipient a chord or progression of intense real that makes Jeff Tweedy so pretty it's like hard for me to even look at him without feeling like i could curl up with him in a major way and get to the heart of the matter and it's not about sex or sexlove even though I'm convinced that every things' baseline is sexual, but not this, specifically about really looking at desire and balancing it delicately on a point that intersects the scientist that exists in all of us and the romantic non scientific in all of us, that like me, wishes its ability to pretend had become a facet somewhere the evolutionary plane perhaps around the time when mating erroneously became lovemaking or something but Tweedy has encouraged me not to stray from recognising a talent beyond most and when I use the word tidy, I mean it with all due respect and not meant to establish a quality to his appearance but rather the sum of Tweedy's complicated parts even the parts that are dark and disheveled and at one point perhaps dependent on controlled narcotics emerges a perfection a talent that uses confusing bytes to create a whole that is, if you listen with a Wilcritical ear, a passionate nerdy and it makes me very very happy when I hear the exactness of a person's talent the event of that artist who has recognised his own potential and not just in working hard but in the knowing he's good and in also recognising that his ability to speak to people live from the stage without the context of the musical float causes a stumble with an artistic bent the kind of bent that makes us smile knowingly even though we don't know that kind of inner torment so prevalent in those people who excel in a way that alienates us but with Tweedy as he has struck a method that gestures to us on purpose, and with the connection but give him notes and out pours some beauty that is really special to me despite his unsettled lyric but I am so impatient with dumb that only through the darkness even a teeny glimpse into his type of art is a gift fit even for me, Tweedy here (fyi, his drummer is killer):
there is something wrong with me
my mind is filled with silvery stuff
honey kisses, clouds of fluff
oh distance has no way of making love
understandable