Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Sunday Running Commentary

Instead of my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I thought I’d try a Running Commentary. When I first got out of bed this morning I was completely disinclined to run. After some coffee and perusing the paper, I began to reconsider.

By this time I’d been up long enough to get hungry, so I thought I would eat a banana with peanut butter, wait for it to digest a little, then run. This also gave me time to watch one of our favorite shows, Mohawk Valley Living. It gave the temperature a chance to warm up a little too, although we didn’t start out as cold as we have been.

I normally run in shorts and t-shirt for anything over 45 degrees. My thermostat said 44, so I stretched a point. I had a bad moment when I put on my headband and found that my hair looked completely ridiculous. It is at that in-between stage: not long enough to do anything with, too long to do nothing about. Should I put on a hat, hiding the mop? Or just look ridiculous and say to hell with it? Then I asked myself, why was I even debating about it? Who cares what I look like when I run?

The morning was grey and gloomy, which suited me fine. Sidewalks were wet but not icy or snowy, and not too many puddles. It was after 8:30 when I set out, but traffic was OK. Early lasts later on Sunday than it does on Saturday, if you see what I mean.

I headed towards Valley Health, to run the hill by it. I must build back up to the hill to Herkimer County Community College, but these things don’t happen all in a day, or even in a week. I sternly told myself that they don’t happen at all if one continues to take four days off between runs. I had good reasons for not running those days, I argued, but I wasn’t buying it. If only guilt burned calories.

That hill was not fun. Yesterday when walking uphill I had observed that I like to walk uphill. Not too long a hill or too steep a hill, but a certain amount of hill is good when walking. I wished I was walking but continued to run. This would work. I could hang.

I felt better after the downhill and back on level ground. I realized my lungs were not happy, but my legs could totally rock this. One can’t have everything after all. I concentrated on feeling happy that at least part of me was rocking it.

I got tired earlier into the run than I expected to. It wasn’t any specific part of me that felt bad, just an overall tiredness. Yesterday when I was greatly enjoying my walk with Tabby, I had thought how blessed I was to love things. I love to walk, I love to write, I love to run, I said to myself. I asked myself this morning, was I loving this run? Um, no. But I wasn’t hating it, so that was something.

To further enjoy my run I made a conscious effort to look around at houses. One porch railing still sported black garland with skulls. Nice. One house looked abandoned. Not so good. That one had new-looking siding and porch. Nice again. That large house was crying out for a new paint job. Wait a minute, was it really crying? No, it stood there with dignity. “This is me. Take it or leave it.” Good house. I guess I get a little fanciful.

I ran for 26 minutes, which I consider respectable. There is no hurry to improve. Maintaining is good. After all, I’m not a world-class athlete training for a nationally televised event. I’m just a middle-aged lady exercising for my health, entertainment, and perhaps a blog post.

It’s My Birthday, Dammit!

My sister Diane told me I should use that as the title. I had really thought I would make a “real” post today, but I don’t know why I thought that. I’ve been running around doing things and now I’m sitting here composing at the keyboard and wanting nothing more than to get to the sweats on, bra off, sitting on my couch crocheting portion of the day.

One does the best one can, doesn’t one? I offer a Preview of Coming Attractions, which may sound remarkably like What I Did Instead of Writing a Blog Post for Today.

I started doing things yesterday with a wine tasting at Vintage Spirits, always a fun thing to write a post about. This morning I did not run, which would have led to a dandy running commentary. However, I may run tomorrow, so we have that to look forward to (me the run and writing the post, you reading the post) (if you like that sort of thing). I did, however, finish two letters and write three post cards which I then mailed, walking to the post office with my delightful schnoodle, Tabby. Walks with Tabby are often good for a post.

My day was just getting started. I went to a craft fair at the Saquoit Middle School with my sister Cheryl and my mother. What fun that was! And it involved an enjoyable drive over scenic country roads. The journey and the destination are worth writing about. My trip home, with almost freezing rain, was equally memorable.

Back in Herkimer, I stopped at Valley Wine and Liquors where another wine tasting was going on. Oh stop shaking your heads and calling me a lush (you know who you are), I only tasted a few wines. We didn’t even open the bottle we purchased last night and what I bought today I intend to save for Thanksgiving. There is every chance we will open last night’s bottle and have a glass or two tonight, but for heavens’ sake, did you not read the title of the piece? It’s my birthday, dammit! Sheesh!

Well, this is a respectable 300 words. At least, it’s 300 words. Describe them by the adjective of your choice. I’m going back to my birthday celebrations.

Perverse Vindication

And the lame posts just keep coming. At least, this is Lame Post Friday, so I suppose there is some excuse. I did not call any of the previous few posts lame in so many words, but I feel that they were. Do I feel bad about this? Marginally. After all, I think even lame, I am fairly amusing. Or do I flatter myself?

No matter, I am sitting here at my little acer, typing off the cuff. It is what I do many times in my blogging life. However, on Lame Post Friday, it is what I am SUPPOSED to be doing! Vindication is mine!

In fact, today is the day for random observations and half-baked philosophy. What can I come up with under those headings?

Here is an observation about myself: Bad weather makes me laugh. I had a slightly dicey drive into work this morning, due to snow. As I got out of my vehicle to walk into work, I was laughing. Not for any reason that I could name, except that I found it fun. Cold, wet, perhaps a little dangerous (I definitely felt some slipperiness under the snow), yet somehow also fun. Call it my perverse nature.

Ooh, that sounds like an opportunity for some half-baked philosophy: WHY do I find bad weather fun? Do I, in fact, have a perverse nature (no, NOT perverted! Shut up, you) (you know who you are). (There should be a question mark there, but then it seemed as if I was questioning if you know who you are and I know you do.)

Well, that fulfills both requirements. I’m thinking I have talked about this before, the bad weather and my reaction to it. Oh well, these things happen. I’ll try for something more original tomorrow. Happy Friday, everyone.

How Do You Spell “Get My Act Together”?

I may institute a new feature: Panic Button Day. That is when I have something to do in the evening, several things to get done before that, and no blog post written. Why, oh why did I not write something on break at work? Well, I tried. All I could manage was a letter to my sister, in which I lamented that I couldn’t think of anything to write a blog post about.

My event of the evening is the monthly dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre. That is a bonafide Mohawk Valley adventure, which I could in fact write about after I go there. But I’ll be tired by then. And the dinner is BYOB and, well, I thought I would. Never drink and type. You make a lot of typos that way.

A pause while I look up “bonafide.” I have a big red Random House Webster’s College Dictionary that was given to me by a friend many years ago. It is invaluable at times like these. My computer is highly unreliable. For example, the dictionary says it’s “bona fide” or “bonafide.” My computer underlines both versions. Quite frankly, I don’t think technology is all it’s cracked up to be.

I still have to figure out what to wear to my meeting. This makes it a bonafide wrist-to-forehead occasion (I went to the trouble of looking it up, I thought I’d use it again). As usual, I am dreadfully sorry about not having a real post. But perhaps it will amuse my readers to laugh at my haplessness (not going to look up that one).

A Wednesday Kvetch

It never fails: I avoid a Tired Tuesday only to run smack dab into a Wuss-out Wednesday. What, oh what is my problem?

Did anybody answer that or did everybody accept it as a rhetorical question or perhaps an unanswerable lament. Or perhaps you took it as more kvetching, perhaps with my wrist on my forehead (I can be very self-dramatizing). Whatever, it is clear that I have a problem. I have fatigue, aches, pains, blues, etc. Could this be middle age? Say it ain’t so!

I went running yesterday. In addition to wanting to build up my run time and progress toward my weight-loss goals, I thought it would make a good blog post. And it may have, if only I would have written it. I took my dog Tabby for a walk today, another potential blog topic. One reason I mention these things is to show you that I am so active. So if anybody was gearing up to say, “Well if you got more EXERCISE, you’d have more ENERGY,” they don’t have to bother. There’s always someone.

And speaking of middle age, can I just ask, where’s menopause when you need it? It’s getting cold in the Mohawk Valley these days. I could use one of them there hot flashes.

I guess there is no point to this post, although I am glad I got to sneak in my hot flash line.

Back on Stage?

Ilion Little Theatre is moving right along with their 2014-15 season. Noises Off still has another weekend to run (Nov. 21, 22, 23; catch it if you get a chance!), but they are already holding auditions for their next production, Busybody.

My public will be pleased to know that I auditioned last night. OK, I guess my public mostly consists of my husband, Steven, and maybe my Mom and Dad. Steven thought it was cool I tried out. So did I.

The theatre is located in The Stables behind Remington Arms in Ilion, NY. It is a short drive from Herkimer, where I live. It was pouring rain and I was nervous. What if I’d forgotten how to act? Worse yet, given the weather, what if I’d forgotten how to drive? I managed to arrive safely, so I trusted I would be OK on stage.

The director greeted me and introduced himself. Very polite of him, since I’ve known him for five years, ever since I joined the theatre group. I filled out my audition sheet, pausing only when I got to the “experience” section, because I couldn’t seem to remember my character’s name in And Then There Were None (good God, I think that was before I started writing a blog. Did I even have a life back then?) (Note to self: answer that question on Lame Post Friday).

Another auditioner was looking at the script.

“This smells awesome,” he said. “It smells like elementary school.” I just love a good description like that. Ilion Little Theatre gets the coolest actors.

When I checked out the script myself, I was more worried about sight than smell. I had neglected to bring my reading glasses. My regular glasses are progressives, but I like a wider reading area, just to give myself every advantage.

It turned out pretty OK. I think I did all right on the scenes I read. It seems like a really fun play. I’m looking forward to reading the whole script. Or, you know, seeing the show, if I don’t get cast. I hope I get cast. I’ll write numerous blog posts about it if I do.

For more information on Ilion Little Theatre visit their website at www.ilionlittletheatre.org, and Like their Facebook page.

A Fun Saturday Night

Saturday night Steven and I combined three of our favorite things: time with friends, dinner out and theatre.

First we met our friends Phyllis and Jim at Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner in Herkimer, NY. This is one of our longtime favorite spots, and I have given it several shout-outs. It is a regular destination for Phyllis and Jim as well.

After a delicious dinner and enjoyable conversation, we all headed over to Ilion Little Theatre for Noises Off, their first production of the 2014-15 season. Ilion Little Theatre (ILT) is another Mohawk Valley institution which I have given many a well-deserved shout-out. I love the historic Stables that houses it. I love the intimate size of the performance space. And I love seeing my friends from the theatre group on stage.

Noises Off features some players who are new to the ILT stage as well as returning players. All the actors are very talented and they had the audience laughing heartily. My favorite was Act II, which involved whiskey and an ax.

We had originally thought to go out for drinks after the show, to discuss the production. We’ve worked on plays with Phyllis and Jim, so we often find a lot to say about plays we merely watch. However, by the time the play was over, it was late and we were tired. We had a great time and plan to do it again. Perhaps at the next ILT production, if we’re not onstage.

For more information on Ilion Little Theatre, visit their website at www.ilionlittletheatre.org or you can Like their Facebook page. For more information on Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner, their website is www.crazyottosempirediner.com, and they also have a Facebook page.

My Wrist Has Been Busy

So there I was about to write my Wrist to Forehead Sunday post, when my husband, Steven, told me of his plan to rake the front lawn. He nicely said I did not have to help, despite my natural feelings of guilt. I thought, Ah! I will write a Wrist to Forehead post about feeling guilty while he is doing that, then he can get right on the computer when he is done (he was working earlier in the day while I was… not).

Then a friend of his called on the phone and he was talking to her. Tabby and I went outside and I started raking. I am not a completely useless wife. Steven came out and worked too. I kept saying, “I’ll go in now and do my blog post while you finish this,” then deciding to do just one more thing.

At last I came inside while Steven was still outside. Oh, I would just put away the dishes I washed earlier (I am famous for washing dishes, leaving them to air dry and further leaving them for Steven to put away). Then I started thinking about how I had not yet showered for the day, and I got this tantalizing mental image of taking a hot shower and putting on some cuddly, brand-clean sweats and THEN getting on the computer. Maybe with a glass of wine.

By the time I was clean and cuddly, Steven was inside, but nicely got me a glass of wine and let me get on the computer (did mention that I have a very nice husband? Well I do). BUT first I had to check my Facebook notifications. When I finally logged onto WordPress, blogs I follow popped up. Since I was about to write a Wrist to Forehead post without feeling particularly Wrist to Forehead-y (Hello! Hot shower, cuddly sweats, would you feel like putting your wrist to your forehead?), I stalled by reading Return of the Modern Philosopher, one of my favorites.

And then I just had to comment. My comments tend to get a little long-winded, so then I had to edit.
Then I read Modern Philosopher’s post to Steven. Before I got to read him my comment (which after reading the post again I again had to edit), he said, “I want more wine!” Could he be feeling wrist to foreheady because I am hogging the computer?

And now I have to check if the Modern Philosopher replied while I was typing all this, before I hit publish.

Yes, he did respond, and I responded to his response. I wonder if my poor husband will ever be able to get on the computer.

Not Bad Ass Yet, But Getting There

Earlier this morning I made a note to myself: When you plan to run Friday afternoon instead of Saturday morning, do not talk yourself out of it. You will regret it Saturday morning. However, shortly after I made that mental note, I realized I was enjoying my run quite a bit and ceased to repine.

We got snow in the Mohawk Valley Thursday night. Friday it started sticking to the ground. Not a huge amount. We did not have to break out the shovels. Still, it was snow, and it was not warm, even by the standards of someone who spent years living in the North Country (that would be me). I almost talked myself out of it again. After all, I could run in the afternoon, when it might be warmer but would certainly be daylight. Surely a better time to run.

No, no, I told myself. Just put on some leggings and long sleeves. Find your winter running socks. Get going. Steven had cleaned out the living room closet yesterday so it was no problem finding a hat and gloves. I put on a sweatshirt for good measure. I hesitated about the sweatshirt, because I also intended to wear my reflective vest. If the sweatshirt got too warm it would be awkward to take off with the vest on top of it. Then I thought, it’s under 30 degrees. Put on the sweatshirt.

Snow covered the sidewalk but not thickly. I ran with a low, shuffling gait, in case of slick spots. You would think with the amount of padding I carry around my hips and midsection that falling would hold no terrors for me. Well, let me tell you, fat can bruise painfully, too. Spoiler alert: I didn’t fall today.

I was happy I had worn the gloves and hat. I only wished I had something covering my face, because that got cold in a hurry and never warmed up. No matter, I didn’t intend to run very far. 20 minutes would be sufficient, I told myself. I have been running 25 minutes. I thought I ought to think about increasing it by the recommended 10%. After all, I’ve been running for more than a week. Not as many times as I perhaps ought to be running, but I can work on that. For now I just kept going.

Occasionally my trailing foot would slip as I shifted weight to my leading foot. Nothing too worrisome at the speed I was going. I did not increase my pace. I felt so comfortable. Sometimes when I run a slow pace I feel it is too slow. I feel I am plodding like a fat snail, just slogging along in a pathetic, embarrassing fashion. Today it did not feel too slow. I felt awesome! I was so glad I was running!

I knew I would not end on a sprint. Too dangerous. I decided as I went which way to go. When I had mapped out in my head which streets would bring me back home, I thought I would just get home when I got there and that would be how long I ran. I was on the opposite side of the street. As I approached the house, though, I ran by to the corner then crossed the street and ran back. Yeah, I felt bad ass.

It ended up being 27 minutes, an increase of less than 10% but an increase nonetheless. As Tabby graciously walked my cool-down with me I started to feel cold. I suppose that means I did work up a sweat, even at my slow, shuffly pace. I still felt pretty damn good about myself. I will build up my run time. I will be bad ass.

I Just Write

How many different things can one blogger think of to say about not writing, that is the question. I know, you thought it was “To be or not to be,” but you were mistaken. It is Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual.

Hmm, that was not a bad first paragraph, or do I flatter myself? I would feel more comfortable about my future as a blogger if I had not just sat here staring at it for ten minutes unable to think of another thing to say. OK, I just said that to be dramatic. I’ve been blogging for three years and I intend to continue, lame post or not.

One accepts when one begins at a writer that some days will be better than others. At least, I accept that premise. There are those who claim that “you just write.” But we’ve covered “There is no such thing as Writer’s Block” before. And anyways, it’s Writer’s Blank.

Where was I? Oh yes, not writing and apparently unable to think of anything new to say about it. How embarrassing is that? This has been a pretty long dry spell. I mean, I have had some not terrible blog posts (or do I flatter myself?), but the novel remains at a standstill. I don’t know how good my last couple of magazine articles were. I may have had a couple of good lines in some letters and post cards I have written.

Oh hell, Cindy, just end it and get off stage. This post is lame. Try again tomorrow.

And looking back, I’m not sure how good the first paragraph was either.