Category Archives: Updates

We R Who We R

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The other day I was emailing back and forth with my friend Miranda, as we tend to do on a regular basis, and I was surprised to learn that after one of my previous blog posts, she was a bit concerned about me when it comes to this Ragnar….well, to my running in general.

Let’s be real here. Sometimes I’m a little concerned about me and my running. Obviously, or I wouldn’t write about it so much.

Here’s the deal. Every once in a while I get tired. Really tired. Mentally and physically. I put my body through a hell of a lot on a weekly basis, and sometimes that shuts me down. Add that to the recent complete overhaul of my day-to-day routine, and you end up with one exhausted, sometimes bitchy, every once in a while forlorn, yet always (at least somewhere in my mind) determined Ann.

Like I said to Miranda, there is nothing to be worried about. I’ll get through Ragnar, and I’ll get through it well. It’s not an option to NOT push myself to my absolute limits and beyond. You know why?

Because I am a runner.

That’s all there is to it.

I. Am. A. Runner.

That’s how I know that even when I struggle, I’ll be just fine. I’ll get through my races, I’ll bounce back from slumps or rough days or days where Thin Mints and a nap sound INFINITELY better than 15x80m hill sprints (like today). Even on those days where I forget all of this, somewhere in my brain, in my very core, I know I will be fine.

Because this is who I am. This running thing isn’t just a passing hobby or phase. It’s an ingrained aspect of ME and has been for years upon years, even if sometimes there have been significant periods of time where I’ve neglected it. It’s something I will do until I physically can’t anymore, and then I will mourn the loss of one of my longest-standing and closest allies.

This is my stress-relief, my freedom, my passion.

This is how I know I will be ok.

No Giving Up Now

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Let’s chat.

Guys, my Ragnar is three weeks from tomorrow. Three. Uno, dos, tres. No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds.

Holy. Fuck.

So I figured that this week I would get my shit together since the last few have been, shall we say, less than stellar when it comes to, you know, WORKING OUT. Actually, I’ve been a slacker and a half. Most of me cares about that. That other part? It keeps asking me to eat more Thin Mints. I’ve been obliging.

This is….not the best mindset to have. Trust me.

I mean, not the Thin Mint part because they’re fucking delicious, but you know, the other part. The slightly not caring about training part.

At any rate, Tuesday I went out for a run. It was going to be a 12-mile run. It was going to be AWESOME because I am awesome and fit and in shape and am a badass and these are the things I was telling myself before I got out there.

And then I got out there.

And then I got about three miles into my run and my whole body, physical and mental entities alike, went “Well, fuuuuuuuuuuck this.”

And then I cried.

And then I got mad. Like, what the fuck, self? I BREEZED through 13 miles just a month ago and now I can’t even get an efficient QUARTER of that? This is bullshit.

It is a shitty realization to KNOW that you are nowhere near where you need to be physically. It’s difficult knowing that (my conscious decision of) getting less sleep has had a negative impact on my ability. It’s even worse when you know you’re further away mentally. Because that’s what it is. It’s a mental thing.

I have been SO focused on other shit lately….quitting the hockey blog, spending weekends away, the boyfriend….that my entire focus of “run run run run run” has fallen by the wayside. This is not what I want.

It is unacceptable. I will not accept it.

So I went out yesterday for another longer run. It was MUCH better. Still not quite where I want to be, but that’s even more motivation for me to get out there and PUSH MYSELF.

I have three weeks to do everything I possibly can to bust my ass into better shape. I have three weeks to sweat through some 90 degree days and double-digit mile runs. I have three weeks to get out and LIFT and be sore and push through those days where I can hardly move. I have three weeks to shake myself into this new (though INCREDIBLY delightful) routine I’ve got now. I have three weeks and then I will run what will, I’m sure, be one of the coolest races of my life.

Three weeks.

Let’s fucking do this shit.

Perfect

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So.

Besides swooning, what has Ann been up to over the last month?

Home Opener with the bestie:

Rainy day for a baseball game

Chicago aka Vegas repeat:

Blues playoff games:

The zoo:

Leasburg for Ali’s birthday:

Birthday girl!!

One of my absolutely new favorite pictures
The group

Stupidly happy
What I came home to

Oh yeah, and spread out through all of that was the trip to CollegeTown, meeting GCB’s family….parents, sister/bro-in-law/niece, AND grandparents, JD’s birthday celebration, out of town interweb friends being in town, baseball games, my friend Noelle moving back to STL, and realizing just how quickly I am falling have fallen for the boyfriend.

On deck there is:

  • A cousin competing in high jump at the state track meet….as a freshman
  • My freshman year of college roommate’s wedding
  • Ragnar
  • Taking the boyfriend to Jeff City to meet the family
  • Kansas City for the Cards/Royals series
  • Numerous other baseball games
  • Sunday night dinners
  • Alison’s daughter’s birthday
  • Spending every single day being blown away by how absolutely fucking lucky I am

Perfection.

Dust in the Wind

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Today has already been an interesting day. Today, after a year and a half and over 300 different posts, I retired my hockey blog.

There are quite a few reasons I have for making this decision, many of which I won’t discuss here as I firmly believe that what happens behind closed doors needs to not make its way onto a public(ish) site. If you’re really curious, ask me. I might tell you.

The biggest reason for this, though, is simple.

Life.

Real life, MY life, the one I’m living right now, has been filling up. I have been doing what I can to take full advantage of things, to EXPERIENCE things, and I was running out of time to give my fullest devotion and effort to the blog, as much as I loved it.

A year and a half ago when my friend Mike suggested I contact the network CEO about writing for her/them, there was a lot of hesitation on my part. I knew how to write, but to write about hockey? I mean, hell, I had only been watching the sport for a year. But I went for it. There were A LOT of growing pains, a lot of time spent finding my voice and my place within not only the network, but within the Blues blogosphere as well. Some of those growing pains hurt like a motherfucker.

The thing is, back then I was struggling. I was struggling really hard with my place in life and how things were going at the time. There were a lot of really down days back then. The blog was a bit of a lifeline for me.

It gave me a sense of purpose, something to work for and towards, something to distract me from the not-so-great days. It allowed me to create a niche, however unexpected, and let me feel one of the greatest senses of belonging ever.

What I didn’t expect, though, were the benefits from such a thing. There were things like becoming a better writer and learning more about the sport of hockey in a matter of months than I ever thought possible. There was the absolute crashing face first, head over heels (further) in love with the Blues. There was an undeniable feeling of connectedness to my city. It brought me closer to friends I’d already had because I was more capable of intelligently discussing this sport.

More importantly than any of that is the people.

There have been the people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to strictly on and because of the Twitterverse and that ever so awesome #stlblues hashtag.

Some of the other writers for the network have become incredibly important parts of my life. There have been Aerys meetups and inside jokes (font bowler…heh) and one particular graphic artist who became and still is a phenomenal friend, with whom I have spent COUNTLESS hours talking to. Then of course there’s Miranda, a fellow writer, who has quickly become one of my closest friends.

But the kicker has been the other Blues fans I’ve met. The people who started as screen names on Game Time or a Twitter handle but who became the people I most wanted to spend time with before, during, and after Blues games. These people became my friends and my fellow tailgaters and road tripping compadres and my half-marathon running buddies and, in a somewhat roundabout way, my boyfriend. They became a family, of sorts. A dysfunctional, sometimes argumentative, always insane, yet incredible and supportive Blues family. There have been some awful days where only their comments and hugs have lifted me up.

I am SO LUCKY to have them.

So I suppose it’s the end of an era. I’ll still contribute to Aerys where I can, but the days of You’re My Boys, Blues are over. It’s been a great era, but it’s time to tackle the next thing life has to offer.

Here we go.

Panic Prone

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I am fuh-REAK-ing the fuck out.

Ragnar is five weeks from today. Five weeks. Thirty-five days. I….holy shit.

I pulled up my training schedule today to adjust for the last week of being sick and out of town, switched over to the May calendar, and got a whopping dose of HOLYFUCKINGSHITI’MRUNNINGEIGHTEENMILESINFIVEWEEKS.

Holy fucking shit, I’m running 18 miles in five weeks.

I’m not ready.

Getting sick two weeks after the half marathon has meant that my workout regiment since the half has been, well, more a passing interest than a regiment. This was not my intention at all.

Logically I KNOW that I will be fine. I know that I am in good enough shape to get through.

But I don’t want to be just good enough. I want to have splits that I can be proud of. I want to make our team faster. I want to get through this race and be sore in the best way possible.

I want to absolutely crush my training for the next month.

When I looked at my just barely filled out May running schedule and realized I was supposed to run 10 miles in a few days, I had another freak out moment.

I’m meeting GCB’s parents on Sunday. There is Sunday Night Dinner on Sunday. There is not time for a 10 mile run. Maybe four, but not ten.

So, let’s sum up.

I am freaking out about the biggest race of my life thus far, even though logically I know I’ll be ok, but I know I have to kick ass this month.

I am freaking out about the meeting the parents of the perfect boyfriend because I have not “met the parents” in a DECADE. Even then, the high school boyfriend was a friend first, so I technically already knew his parents. Though I suppose there was the one guy with whom my first date was a trip to the Fox Theater WITH his parents, but I don’t count that so much. I am told, “he likes you, they’ll like you.”

But as we are seeing, LOGIC IS NOT FUCKING PREVAILING WITH ME TODAY.

I need a nap.

This post was brought to you by a severe lack of sleep, a minor instance of lack of self-confidence, and probably not enough (possibly too much) caffeine.

Fever

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On Friday I went down to CollegeTown to hang out with my friend and her husband. We have had this tradition where we go out the Saturday before Easter. We’ve done this every single year (with the exception of one) for the past eight years.

This year we decided to push our tradition back as Easter was the weekend before my half marathon, and I figured I’d “be on a detox week.”
Fun fact: That was day two of my week long bender with Steph. Fun fact 2: It was also the day I met GCB. Timing, it is weird.
Anyway, we pushed our tradition back to this past weekend. We had every intention of taking the town by storm, dressing up, and dancing our asses off. Then we went out to dinner.
And Ann came home and registered a 100.1 degree fever. Fucking great.
I should have realized it after I woke up Saturday morning thinking that I had just broken a fever, but mistakenly thinking there was no reason for it.
So let’s count. Friday night. Saturday night. Three different bouts of a fever breaking yesterday during the day. And at least two last night.
When you have a fever and are totally incapable of regulating your own body temperature, it pretty well blows.
At one point I was so cold I think I was clinging to GCB like a spider monkey. At another, I could have sworn that if he touched me I would have exploded into a bajillion droplets of sweat. Apparently I was radiating heat at one point.
I’m trying to convince myself that I do not have another one today. Mostly because I’m going to the hockey game tonight. There is nothing that will keep me from this game.
Priorities, my friends.
I guess a good thing about being sick is calling out of work and spending the entire first half of the day in bed.
Going to work tomorrow’s going to suck.

Oh Baby, Baby

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Bullet points!!

  • My sister is having a BOY. Nephew Watch 2012!!! Gah, SO FREAKING EXCITED!!!!!!!
  • I lifted for the first time today since nearly a week before the half. My legs feel great. My arms? Yeeeaaaahhhh, ouch.
  • It is time for me to refocus on how I eat. Again. The last two weeks have been ridiculous with what I’ve actually consumed, so yeah. Getting back to being good. These carrots and hummus are really fantastic.
  • I’m getting really excited for Ragnar. My last few runs have been REALLY awesome. Tomorrow GCB is coming running with me, which will be interesting. Pretty sure he’ll be able to hang, though.
  • Today I actually took measurements for the first time since early February. The reason I started doing so was to see just how I would change during my training, but as I’ve been balls to the wall training for quite a few months now, it seems as though I am at a decent plateau, despite the increase in the half inch or so around my midsection (which I attribute entirely to hormones at this point). I am more than comfortable in my skin. I feel like I’m at an incredible point physically, and it makes me proud of everything I’ve accomplished over the last year.
  • As I was telling mi madre earlier today, I really don’t think life has ever been any better than it is at this moment.
Life is incredible.

I Know I Should Be Home

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I was in Chicago this past weekend. There will be pictures to show you all once I get them on my computer, but for now I’ve got to tell you all something that rattled me.

It rattled me because I never thought I’d say it.

For the first time ever, I was excited to get back to St Louis rather than wishing I could stay in Chicago.

Um, what?

I feel like all I’ve been saying lately is “What the fuck?”

Semi-relatedly, last night was GCB’s first appearance at Sunday Night Dinners.

It’s Been One Week

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I ran a half marathon yesterday. Today I didn’t go into work. Not because I need to recover from the race, but because I need to recover from this week.

Well, the last week and three days.

Last Friday my girl Steph flew into town. Since then my budget and liver have both taken the most severe of beatings.

Let’s recap! I can’t believe how long this is going to be.

Friday was the final Blues home game, where we celebrated Steph’s birthday and her arrival into town, met up with bunches of fun peoples, and just enjoyed the evening.

Saturday was a Blues meetup for the final game of the season, some spectacular company, an unexpected introduction to a boy, and several rounds of delicious, delicious beers.

Sunday, being Easter, I actually spent down with some of my family, who are awesome, and then there was an unexpected late night ice cream date (!!!!). Yep, a date. I’ll call him Goalie Cop, since he is both of those things.

Monday I met up with my marathon girls for beers and to watch the Cardinals game, and we sat around laughing and drinking and joking about just how poorly all of us were going to do on this race, given how much all of us had slacked off on our training.

Tuesday two of those marathon girls came lifting with me. That’s right. We actually did work out. Go figure, right? But then we had cocktails and watched Goon, and we spread the love of the movie to Goalie Cop.

Wednesday was another date night (!!!!) followed by a meet up for the first games of the NHL playoffs, which kept all of us out late. Thanks West Coast. Thanks a lot.

That’s when shit starts to get crazy.

Thursday was round one, game one for the Blues playoffs. It was the first playoff game of any kind I had ever been to, and guys? I love playoff games. So very much. After the game, the marathon girls (sans one) and I went to a bar where it was ladies’ night and successfully killed 17 martinis between the three of us. No big deal.

Friday was the Cardinals Home Opener with April, which was followed by too many Irish Carbombs at the bar after, but I got to meet Miranda (WHICH WAS AWESOME) and seriously, even though we stood in the rain for hours, it was all so worth it.

Saturday led to some traipsing around the city looking for appropriate balloons and naps, but then more tailgating and the second Blues game of the weekend.

Yes, those are tall boys.

We did great and actually went home and to bed that night. Go us, right?

Sunday we got up far too early and went out for marathoning. Steph and I realized that we had incorrectly thought the race started at 730am. Nope. 700. At least we were there on time. The race itself was ok. I ran with Steph, who was dealing with stress fracture issues, so we didn’t finish at a time I’d expected, but I’m ok with it. We spent the entire race discussing hockey and quoting Cool Runnings, which was thoroughly entertaining to those around us. Now, however, it’s time to focus on Ragnar.

Highlights of the race? Around mile eight and a half, running through the SLU campus, Steph and I at the same time started batting at each other. Why? Because standing on the side of the road were Blues captain David BaCkes and goalie Brian Elliott. We definitely yelled “Let’s go Blues!” at them and got in return some head nods, waves, and smiles. Being that I’ve loved BaCkes for just about forever, I swooned a bit. Running while going weak in the knees is difficult.

AND THEN. Then there was Mile Nine. The bestest mile in all the land. Not only were we floating because of having just seen two Blues, but then we got to the Darth Vader balloon, under which April, one of her friends from grad school, and Goalie Cop were standing to hand us frosty Budweisers. Yeah, we had a beer stop during our run. Best. Idea. Ever. Mile Nine was a good mile.

After the race there was the delicious lunching, the epic napping, and the staying up far too late to watch West Coast playoff hockey games.

And now here I am. Sitting at home, having done just about nothing productive (besides taking Steph to the airport). It’s noon.

I am exhausted and swooning my ass off and wondering just how much of my budget I’ve trashed this week and already missing Steph and wishing April could have stayed longer and finding myself beyond fucking hopeful about this guy. I will elaborate later as I don’t want to jinx this, but allow me to just say quickly that I don’t think this one’s going anywhere any time soon. Not if I have anything to do with it, anyway.

Phew. The upcoming week seems almost boring in comparison to the last.

Until Friday, when I head up to Chicago with April for a reunion with the girls we went to Vegas with last year.

Shit shows. I’m getting really good at them.

Life is really fucking good.

I’m Walking on Sunshine

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Last night Erratic posted what she thought were ten boring things. She likes these lists, and this particular list of hers made me grin like an imbecile when she said:

“I am ridiculously happy. Not just the house shit, just everything. Perfect job, perfect boy, soon to be perfect house…shit is just awesome right now. I am much funnier when everything sucks, I realize this. Sorry about the cheese…”


Allow me to add my own cheese.

Guys? Things are good right now.

Things are STUPIDLY good right now.

I have been absolutely CRUSHING things at work lately. TWO presentations this morning went off with spectacular feedback. I am feeling comfortable and confident in my role, even with the added juggling of the priorities that it’s given me. My coworkers are awesome, and my boss trusts and respects me as a scientist and quality manager.

My writing has gotten some much bigger attention lately, to the point where not one, but two different Blues blogs have asked me to join their ranks. One I turned down, one I’m highly considering. Not to mention the fact that even right now with Aerys there have been opportunities to be a motivator that has in turn motivated me. Having my Blues in the playoffs helps.

The running thing, after my week long mental break, is better than I imagined. The race is Sunday, and last night I officially signed up for the Disney marathon. My marathon buddies are all in town, and they’re quite possibly some of my favorite people ever. Sunday’s race is going to be my bitch. Full stop.


My sister texted me the other day to tell me that she felt her baby move from the outside for the first time, and I’ll be damned if I just absolutely cannot fucking WAIT to meet that new niece/nephew.

The friends I have are the coolest people on the face of the planet. I have been out of my apartment and/or with friends every single day for the last few weeks, and though it is exhausting, the laughter and happiness that has been ever-present in my day-to-day life has made me so grateful to have them. Planning girls’ nights with Ali and Alison, looking forward to seeing April this weekend, having the marathon girls with me this past week, Sunday night dinners, Game of Thrones watch parties, Blues meetups, and knowing I FINALLY get to meet Miranda on Friday has me over the fucking moon.

And then. Then there is the one thing that I’m just going to tease you all with for right now, the thing that has me probably the most giddy out of all of these things. I am not going to go into details just yet, but I promise to update soon. I cannot WAIT to tell you about this.

You guys hate me right now, I am aware of this.


Oh, and I’m wearing absolutely kick-ass earrings today.

I am quite honestly drunk on happiness.