Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Looking for Endorphins

Having registered for the Boilermaker yesterday but not gone running, I knew I would be hitting the pavement today. I was a little discouraged when I got up to 23 degrees, according to my thermostat. I thought, coffee first. Always a good plan. Surely it would warm up.

As we sat sipping coffee and watching the news, I became even more discouraged. They were predicting temperatures in the teens and lower. What, it was going to get colder? Warmer later in the week, but I needed to run today. I thought I would eat a banana with peanut butter and run after I felt my stomach had settled.

It had dropped to 21 according to my thermostat by then. I resolutely ignored the temperatures reported on the television (I checked two channels), which were even lower. I had found my one real winter running shirt. I would be fine.

I put long johns on my legs. Not particularly warm long johns, but legs move the most when you are running. It would be OK. I put a hooded zip up sweatshirt over the shirt. For one reason, the shirt is quite formfitting. I felt self-conscious. I found my best winter running socks, added hat and gloves, and was on my way.

It was prior to 8 a.m. (twenty minutes prior, if you want to be exact), so there was very little traffic. The sky was grey, and the air was cold. My outfit helped, except for the long johns, which I discovered were rather ineffectual. My face was cold. It actually started to hurt. Never mind, just keep running.

At least the sidewalks were mostly bare. I shuffled over what ice there was. I crossed German Street and headed in the opposite direction from what I had run on Tuesday, toward Route 28 (I ran up the hill by Valley Health previously). I had no intention of running on Route 28; I’m just giving locals an idea of where I ran.

Where would I run? A dead end run, where I ran up and back all the dead end streets off German? Out German Street extension, which is residential and country-ish? How long? Probably 26 minutes, which is how long I ran the last two times I ran. I would up it by the recommended 10 percent on my next run.

I re-crossed German at the end of the street, where that old factory is. I ran around the factory parking lot. I saw a sign that said no bicycling, skateboarding or roller blades. It didn’t say anything about middle-aged ladies running, so I figured I was OK. I know, it probably would have said “no running” and not specified middle-aged ladies. I tend to take everything personally.

I wasn’t loving the run, but my legs were pretty OK with it. My breathing was even OK, despite the cold air. Still, it wasn’t the thrill I was hoping for. You see, I am not in the best of moods today (Wrist to Forehead Sunday, after all). I was hoping for a dose of those endorphins you hear so much about.

The temperature wasn’t so bad when the wind died down. I persevered. I even added my 10 percent, running a total of 29 minutes (I round up) (good God, you don’t expect me to run precisely 28 minutes 36 seconds, did you?) (I used paper and pencil to figure that out). Tabby walked my cool-down with me, although I was not particularly overheated.

I’m still in kind of a dull, down mood, but I’m happy I ran. No doubt I will soon be in fine shape, and by “fine shape” I mean “a shape other than round and puffy.” Maybe I’ll finally get some of them there endorphins.

Got One Thing Done!

It’s another Scattered Saturday post, as I reach the end of the day and must publish SOMETHING before my husband gets home from work and we begin an enjoyable evening together. Once again I had myriad plans to do this that and the other thing, and blog topics ranging from the marvelous to the perfectly acceptable… and here I am, kind of wishing I had made another pot of coffee instead of just heating up the 3/4 cup that was still in the pot.

Where was I? Ah yes, nowhere in particular. When we last left our heroine (that’s me), she was on her way to what promised to be a very fun evening of friends and theatre (OK, enough with the third person, it’s awkward). It was a fun evening, which ended way later than my normal bed time. As a result, I woke with a headache and got a slow start to my morning.

I managed to write a few post cards and finish two letters. Tabby, my dear schnoodle, and I walked to the post office. Oh, what a nice walk. Still chilly out, but we survived. Then I headed into Rome, getting a later start than I had envisioned.

My destination was my parents’ house, where I intended to attempt to register for the Boilermaker on their computer (a more reliable machine than my desktop). The original plan had been to have a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures along the way, but registering was the only one I had. Yet what a satisfying experience it was!

The Boilermaker, for the initiated, is Utica, NY’s 15K road race. Oh, it is an experience and then some. This will be the fourth time I have run it. Come to think of it, I need to write a whole blog post just about me registering.

In the meantime, Steven is home and I must get on with my Saturday night. I hope you’re all having an enjoyable weekend.

Ready to Cheer for The Psychic

A post on the run for this week’s Lame Post Friday. Steven and I are about to leave for a real theatre party. Regular readers will recall that I recently appeared in Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre, along with a stellar cast aided by an awesome director, sound/light guy and prompter. Well, life goes on at Ilion Little Theatre, and tonight is opening night of The Psychic.

The Psychic features one of the cast members of Busybody. At the Busybody cast party, we all declared that we would attend The Psychic en masse, to cheer on our friend. I wondered if it would be one of those things which we all said, “Yeah, let’s do that!” but it didn’t work out. It seems it is working out.

Not entirely, of course. Not everyone can make it. Some of us are meeting before the play for dinner, some of us are going out after for drinks and snacks, some of us may do both. I don’t think anybody told Andy (the cast member we are particularly going to cheer on) that we will be there.

And I should just mention, we are going to support the ENTIRE theatre group. We will clap for the whole cast. Just wanted to be clear on that.

Anyways, I’m too busy and flustered to write a real post now, and I will be too tired later. But I hope to write a killer post about the play. Stay tuned!

Where’s that Monster?

I did not write my blog post at work today, but I thought that would be OK, because I intended to run so I could do a Running Commentary. As the day progressed, I became increasingly enamored of the idea, because I would HAVE to go running or I wouldn’t have a blog post.

It was a bright, sunny day but not the least bit warm. As I walked from my place of employment to my vehicle, I breathed in the cold air and felt tired. Maybe I could run in place on the mini-tramp. For one reason, my husband Steven was home so I could visit with him as I ran. For another reason, if I was just too tired I could wuss out and already be home. For the main reason, it would be easier to breathe and my nose would not incessantly run.

Even so, I dithered once I got home. Outdoors or in, resolutely keeping the possibility of not running at all off the table. Finally I put on shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt and hauled out the mini-tramp (it is actually quite handily located in the dining room). I asked Steven to find the silent movie I’ve had on the DVR since October.

The movie was The Monster (1925). The description said something about a Dr. Ziska doing… something nefarious. I was just fascinated by the name Ziska, because I’m quite certain a Dr. Ziska figures in one of the cheesy movies on our 50 Horror Classics DVD. I haven’t tried to look it up yet. Uncertainly sometimes adds zest.

I’m taking a long time to actually get to the run, because the run was pretty dull. Another advantage of running on the mini-tramp is that I tend to run harder. I set a leisurely pace outside. I find it easier to be leisurely moving in a horizontal direction than vertically. So I told myself I was burning more calories and building up my legs, even as I kept looking at my watch. I ran 26 minutes on Monday, while calculating and re-calculating in my head if I would be in shape in time for the Boilermaker. Would I make it for 26 minutes today?

Could that movie take any longer to get to the monster? The first scene is dramatic: a scary-looking guy causes a farmer in a car to have a bad accident. Is the farmer dead? As the next scene opens, the farmer has disappeared, causing much excitement in the village. The movie becomes less exciting as the investigation stalls and a lame romantic rivalry takes over the plot. Let’s go, movie! It’s supposed to be a horror movie! Scare me!

I must say, running around my beloved Herkimer looking at houses, yards and passersby is a lot more interesting. Steven and I chatted a little, which was nice. I moved my arms around, over my head, back and forth. I did a little twist, just for something different. After all, it worked for Chubby Checkers. It could work for me.

I made it for 26 minutes. My cool-down walk around the house was only five minutes, instead of my usual 10 to 12 around the block with Tabby. So I owe Tabby a walk. I owe myself an outdoor run, too. Possibly on Saturday, weather permitting. If the weather is bad, well, maybe the monster will finally show up on that movie.

Coming Soon?

Today’s post is either an unsubstantiated rumor or a news scoop. I’m a little hesitant to share, but the people involved did not say it was a secret…

My husband and I were in the Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY, doing our laundry. Next door to the laundromat, in the same building, is a storefront. It used to house the Crave Bakeshop but lately has been empty. Today a gentleman came to look at it. The gentleman works for Jreck Subs.

I LOVE Jreck Subs! I used to eat at Jreck Subs in Potsdam and Massena, NY years ago when I lived up north. Yum! I expressed great enthusiasm at the idea of a Jreck’s in Ilion, especially one I can so easily get to while I am doing laundry. How much better would that make my laundry experience!

Full disclosure: I did not ask the gentleman for any particulars. I did not even ask him if it was OK if I mentioned it in my blog. I wondered if I should put it in my blog. Would I get in trouble? Would the unexpected publicity sour the deal? I thought if that was the case, surely the guy would have been more circumspect, especially when I was expressing my love of Jreck’s.

What really convinced me to go with this topic, though, was that I had not written anything for the blog all day (I was still working on the banana play I mentioned yesterday). I thought, this will work. I don’t think I even have to call it a Wuss-out Wednesday.

But let’s all keep good thoughts for Jreck Subs coming to a storefront near me.

Too Tired to Title

Sorry, folks, it’s Tired Tuesday. I really don’t know what my problem is. I haven’t taken a decongestant since Sunday. I haven’t had a drink since Saturday. I went to bed at a respectable hour for the past two nights. Yet, I spent half the day wanting nothing better to stare into space, doing and thinking about absolutely nothing.

Oh, I did my work. You don’t need to call my supervisor and tell him to keep an eye on me. I even did some writing before work and on breaks. I worked on a letter to a friend AND I began writing another play about bananas. Perhaps you remember that I promised a fellow cast-member of Busybody (the play I was in at Ilion Little Theatre recently) that I would write him a play in which bananas are featured prominently. I began one but found I had gotten a little too fancy (I may have mentioned that in another blog post). I began writing a new, not so complicated play. We’ll see how it goes.

I came home and took Tabby for a walk, thinking a Pedestrian Post might be OK. Tabby turned around and led me back home after a block and a half. I was OK with that; the wind was much meaner than I had realized. I took some trouble cooking supper, so a cooking post was also a possibility. Now I feel so tired, I can’t quite remember what I cooked. Something with garlic and onions. Wait a minute, most of what I cook includes garlic and onions. My cooking posts are probably not all that great.

So I thought I would just sit here and type in words till I got over 200. We’ll try for something better tomorrow.

Surviving the Squall

I had an adventurous drive on Sunday which I thought might be good for a blog post all on its own. We’ll see.

My destination was Chadwicks, to meet my sister and members of her family for church. She had told me directions over the phone Saturday night, which I had written down in a sloppy fashion in a notebook I happened to have handy. I wrote them out again in a slightly more legible manner (I am known for my terrible handwriting).

The directions seemed pretty straightforward: Higby to Graffenburg to Oneida Street. I knew that Higby Road was anything but straightforward: hills, twists, turns. Steven and I once had a rather alarming experience getting lost in the fog on Higby Road. However, no fog threatened Sunday morning. Just a little snow. What could possibly happen?

I had meant to allow get lost time, as I usually do when going to a new place, but I forgot I had to gas up. I almost took a chance on the gas, because “you go by a gas station” was included in the directions, but I thought better of it. Well, I probably still had plenty of time. I usually over-estimate these things. Anyways, it’s OK if you’re a little late for church. You just sneak in quietly and sit in the back.

I had also forgotten just how steep parts of Higby Road are. Up, up, up I went. Like many vehicles, mine does not like to go uphill for sustained periods of time. However, we both persevered.

More worrisome was the snow. It had been coming down in a gentle, Christmas-cardlike fashion when Tabby and I had taken a walk in Herkimer earlier. Now it was finer, more determined, and blowing. A mean snow. It was not exactly a storm, I told myself. More like a squall, perhaps exacerbated by the wide open farmland I was driving through.

Parts of the road were covered with snow, so I drove with care. I could rock this. The twisty, turny nature of the road was a little troublesome, but that, too, I could rock. Still, it seemed to be taking a long time to get to Graffenburg Road. Ah, there was the golf course sign. Easy to find.

And then things began to suck. The road had lots of snow on it. The wind blew curtains of white across my windshield. I slowed to a crawl and put my vehicle in 4-wheel drive. Not full 4-wheel but the “Auto” setting, which is kind of in-between. I wondered if I shouldn’t have chosen full 4-wheel but contented myself with going extra slow. It would be perfectly fine if I was late for church.

I soon found myself laughing out loud. I may have mentioned my odd quirk of laughing at bad weather. It usually happens when I am right out in it, not so often in my car when I am concentrating on staying on the road. I actually was not sliding around much, and the humorous aspect of the situation began to tickle me. It’s March, for heavens’ sake! I started running again. What is with these blizzard conditions? I wondered how late I would be for church and pondered an alternative route home.

At last I reached the turn for Oneida Street. According to my directions I was three or four minutes from my destination. I looked at my clock. 10:26. This could work. Once I was in the village the weather seemed calmer. Perhaps all the houses tamed the wind somewhat.

I made it to church just on time. I found my sister and her family. I could see the day brightening as the sun came out. Perhaps my ride home would be fine. As it turned out, we drove into Washington Mills for breakfast and I went home a slightly different way: lots of Higby, no Graffenburg. I was happy to get home where I could nurse the headache I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Some readers may now be saying, “Ah yes, that headache. Could it be that the drive was NOT that sucky but the headache made it seem so?” I say keep your tabletop psychology for yourself. I braved the elements and lived to tell the tale.

Not Like a Snake Eating its Tail

Earlier today I was in the midst of a Mohawk Valley adventure and I was narrating in my head and I narrated the phrase, “I continued to narrate in my head…” And that amused me so much I stopped narrating in my head and contemplated how writing a blog has changed my inner monologue. I thought when I wrote my blog post I would mention how I narrated in my head that I was narrating in my head.

Just a quick question: is this like a snake eating its own tail? In other words, is it a sign I’m reaching the end of my usefulness as a blogger? SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

I believe in fact it ain’t so, but doesn’t it make a good lead for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post?

Steven and I had rather a delightful afternoon and evening yesterday. So delightful that I have had a bad headache all day today. At least, I’m guessing it is because I drank too much wine. I’m kind of hoping it is, because that means it will go away eventually. But it is a little embarrassing to admit to all and sundry that I overindulged (listen to me, all and sundry, like I have that many readers! Get over yourself, Cindy!).

So, yes, this is Yet Another Post About How I Can’t Write A Blog Post Today. I’ll keep it short. After all, perhaps my readers are having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday too and who wants to read a long blog post? Not me. Hope to see you Monday, when I hope NOT to type, “I had meant to write a real blog post today, BUT…”

(Too Many Parentheses?)

I knew I would not have Saturday Running Commentary when I ran yesterday (I’m not up to running every day yet, nor even doing much after I go running) (oh yeah, I went wine tasting and to get my hair cut after running yesterday; well, that was a major effort) (and my blog post later on was not very good) (and I suppose I’m overdoing it with the parenthetical comments on this one).

Where was I? Oh yes, trying to write a blog post before Steven gets home from work and we go adventuring. One might suggest that I write the post after we’ve gone adventuring so I will have something to write about, but I might be too tired then. Full disclosure: I might also have had a drink or two (don’t judge).

Earlier today I took a walk with my schnoodle Tabby to the post office. I only wrote four postcards this week. I pulled out a letter I’ve been working on to my sister but didn’t feel up to finishing it. I guess I could have just written “Love, Cindy” and stuck in an envelope, but I was at the top of a page and I didn’t want to waste the blank space. Anyways, it was a pleasant walk to the post office, although it could have been a little warmer. And it would be nice if more people cleaned up after their dogs.

Just before logging onto WordPress, I washed my hair for the first time since my haircut. When I got the cut I confess to being a little dithery. I thought I wanted to go longer on top. Then when Claire, my fabulous stylist at the Hot Spot Salon and Spa, was finished, I wondered if we shouldn’t go shorter. Claire liked the way my hair looked and, after all, she is the professional. She said if I still wanted to go shorter after a day or two to call her, she’d fit me in.

I felt bad being ambivalent about my hair like that. After all, everybody likes to have their work admired. I told Claire that if I decided I really liked it I would Facebook her (I think “Facebook” is a fun verb) (unlike “blog,” which I find a little silly). Claire and I are Facebook friends. Also I Liked her professional Facebook page of Claire Does Hair.

So I’ve washed my hair and put product on it and I’m still thinking. I don’t know why I’m so conflicted about this. After all, it’s only hair. It grows out. I’ll get it cut again in another month or two. What’s my stinking problem anyways?

Just the ongoing malaise, I suppose. Another symptom of the disease that has rendered my blog posts less than wonderful for the past few weeks (although I may not be the best judge of that). No matter. One can only do the best one can and drive on. So this is my Scattered Saturday post. Hope to see you all on Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Or perhaps it will be Sunday Running Commentary. A little uncertainly about Sunday will add spice to my Saturday night.

I Daresay I Repeat Myself

I’ve got the dreaded Type It In Then Backspace Over It disease. I think I have started blog posts with that line or something similar before. However, this is the third time I’ve tried to begin this post, I have backspaced over two beginnings so far, it is almost 8 p.m. and I want to get on with my Friday.

I’ve done three things since work which have previously provided perfectly acceptable blog posts: I went running, I tasted wine at a Valley Wine and Liquors, and I got my hair cut at Hot Spot Salon and Spa. Partway through my run I realized I could not write a running commentary. All I could think about was my wet feet. Two running commentaries in one week is OK. Two running commentaries about wet feet is whiny and not very interesting.

I had a vague thought that I could do a silly post about getting dressed for my hair appointment. I’ve written about my wardrobe tribulations before with some success (or do I flatter myself?). Then I didn’t really feel like writing about me being fat and not having many clothes.

Wine tasting is often good for a post. When I remember my wine tasting notebook and take notes about the wines I taste. I actually started to write about my haircut. Couldn’t quite get the lead.

Then again it is Lame Post Friday. What could be more lame than a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today? Hope to see you all on Saturday.