Monsters on Monday

My brain does not feel up to any Middle-aged Musings nor yet Mental Meanderings, so I went to Facebook and looked around for some pictures to share.  Eventually I found my way to a page I like called Famous Monsters of Filmland.  Who doesn’t like monsters?  Oh, I know there are some that don’t, but I just imagine they were put off by today’s headline.  I amused myself my downloading a few classics.

“I bid you welcome.”

One of the most debonair of monsters is Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula.  I’m thinking Dracula reached his height point of sexiness with Frank Langella in the 1970’s, but I never saw that movie.  I’m just going by what I heard.

The new spokesmodel for Norelco?

We go from sexy to shaggy with the Wolfman.  I don’t know what movie or actor this is (I suppose real bloggers research these things and here we come to the ugly truth about me), but I liked him.

Ranking high in the annals of bad first dates…

I can’t help by notice there is a dearth of good female monsters.  The Bride of Frankenstein, despite being the title character, had an embarrassingly small part in a sequel.  I find that a little sad, especially given that she was portrayed by the wonderful Elsa Lanchester.

Oh, Julie, your date is here!

And here is the Creature of the Black Lagoon.  I think his body is scarier than his face, but that is one scary body.  Official Julie Adams (who played the object of the Creature’s desire) is another page I like on Facebook.  She seems to be a very gracious, classy lady.

The scariest one!

I think I have used this photo before, but I wanted to close with Nosferatu, which gets my vote for the scariest movie ever.  And I see I am approaching 300 words.  I don’t think that is bad for a brain-dead Monday.  I hope to see you all on Tired Tuesday.

 

Long Run, Long Post

There was a moment on this morning’s run when I did not feel that I was rocking it, yet I suspected I was.  Later on, when I had finished my run and was about to begin my cool-down walk, I felt an impulse to yell, “Yes!  I am Bad! Ass!”  Of course I did not.  It would be the wrong thing to do in a residential neighborhood prior to eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.

I had not run for two days and when I got out of bed this morning, I felt the desire to make it three.  After a cup of coffee I felt a little better about things.  The temperature was 45 degrees, my cut-off temperature for shorts and short sleeves which, as regular readers may recall, I have been thinking about re-thinking but I never feel like doing that much thinking.  So I dithered a little before getting dressed, but eventually got into shorts and short sleeves.  After all, it was supposed to be a long run.  I would have plenty of time to get warmed up.

My run was further delayed by a plumbing problem.  While the toilet was filling it began to make a hideous, loud pounding noise.  Steven turned off the water and got on the phone with our plumber.  I did not know how long the water would remain off so thought it best not to get all sweaty and stinky right away.  I got myself a half slice of the pizza we had sent out for last night and awaited events.

Our plumber, it turned out, is visiting family in New Jersey and won’t return till Tuesday.  However, when Steven described the problem, he said as long as the noise stopped when the bowl was filled, nothing terrible would happen and he would take a look at it on Tuesday. That’s in a nutshell.  I would probably get it wrong if I tried to repeat the whole thing and, anyways, this is Sunday Running Commentary, not a Plumbing Post.

So I decided to run without waiting for the pizza to digest.  I’m always pretty good about waiting an hour or two after eating, but now that I think about it, that’s what they always told us about swimming, not running.  I didn’t know what would happen for running but decided to find out.

I had it in my head to run up to Herkimer College, but as soon as I started running I knew I didn’t feel like doing that.  I was cold, especially my hands.  I was tired.  I was afraid this would not be an especially fun run.  However, I did not feel as utterly incapable of continuing as I had felt on Thursday, so I counted my blessings and headed towards the college.  Before I got to Lou Ambers Drive, I thought of running up the back road to the college.  Not as steep but longer.  That would work.

As I ran through a residential area, I saw my neighbors delivering papers and said good morning.  The wife told me to run a couple of miles for her.

“I will!”  I had no idea how many miles, if any, I would actually run that day, but I wanted to be obliging.

“All right!”

It wasn’t much fun running up the hill, but I tried to appreciate the woods on either side of me.  The little stream to my left laughed at  me as usual.”Look at me, going downhill,” it seemed to say.  “Look how easy this is and how much fun I’m having!  This is the way to go!”  But it was a weird image in my head.  Was the stream talking to me or was it all the little molecules of water talking in unison?  That’s the trouble with anthropomorphizing some things. Anyways, I thought, who wants to go in only one direction?  Wouldn’t you like to decide where to go?  And I thought there might be a profound point to make about how people often want to go in the more difficult direction and have to figure out ways to do it. Man vs. nature, and all that sort of thing.  I was having too much trouble running to come any good conclusions on these thoughts, but these are the things that go through my head sometimes.

At one point I looked ahead and saw how pretty the road looked, curving around to an unknown destination.  I will have to go back with my tablet and get a picture to share with you.  I thought how one might not know where the road went after the curve, so it would make an evocative picture.  However, I knew that once I got around that curve I would be almost at the top of the hill, so I was encouraged.

At last I was there.  Puff, puff.  Running is certainly an effort at times.  I wondered if it was the pizza weighing me down.  However, I did not feel sick to my stomach, so I counted my blessings and kept going.  When the road began to slope down, I felt very happy.  Now all I had to do was move my feet and let gravity take me along.  Then the downgrade got too steep to be really enjoyable.  I leaned back and tried not to jounce myself too much.  I thought of a story my husband Steve tells about how he was running down a hill as a boy and got out of control fast.  That did not happen to me today.

As usual, I calculated in my head a few times if I ran X today, then increased it by 10 percent each week, where would I be at the end of June?  I figure in pretty good shape for the Boilermaker 15K in July.  It was towards the bottom of the hill that I experienced the thought that I was rocking the run while not feeling that I was.  I was soon extremely tired but managed to keep going.

Eventually an odd thing happened.  I still did not feel I was rocking it, but my legs felt pretty good.  They felt supple, warmed up and, well, like legs that were capable of running for a damn long time.  My breathing was a bit labored, but my legs were all, “We cool.”

Now I see I have gone on for over 1,000 words.  I haven’t done a Running Commentary that long in a while!  And how appropriate, since this was my longest run in 2017. Boilermaker, here I come!

 

Still Posting Lame on Saturday

I came up with a new expression yesterday:  I Meatloafed it home, meaning I drove like a Bat out of Hell.  Not everybody will get this.  You see, there was a singer called Meatloaf, and he had an album (it was the 1970’s) called “Bat out of Hell.”   Well, it amused me, anyways.

So here it is Saturday and I guess I’m making another lame post.  Never mind why.  It’s been a long day and I’ve done very little of any interest.  I took a drive on the New York State Thruway, but since I was driving, I could not really enjoy any views.  Incidentally, despite my grandiose claims of speed, I did not go considerably above the posted limits for any considerable length of time.  After all, safety first.  Also, I do not want to get a speeding ticket.  Still, the speed limit is 65 m.p.h.  That is faster than a mile a minute, so I don’t think I was pokey-poking along too slowly.

And that is really all I have for today.  I felt so pleased about the Meatloaf pun, I thought I could get a whole post out of it.  I guess it turns out, not so much.  Oh, I know what, like yesterday’s post, I can give a shout-out to a local business.

When I arrived home, tired and hungry, Steven called Salvatore’s in Herkimer and ordered a garlic pizza and antipasto salad.  Yum!  Prompt delivery of delicious food as always.

Also as always, I’ll try for a better blog post tomorrow.

 

 

I Interrupt my Coffee for a Friday Lame Post

Can I make a post at 4:30 in the morning on Lame Post Friday?  Apparently I can, because here I am, typing.  Will it be any good?  Oh, who cares on Lame Post Friday?  I’ll just keep typing.

I left out one good part of my run yesterday.  Towards the end, I heard a horn beep and I recognized the car and occupant!

Now, I am famous for not recognizing folks who beep at me.  In fact, many years ago when I lived in Potsdam, I completely stopped looking up when I heard a beep.  This is because I was a young, fairly shapely female and it seemed every beep came from, as I put it at the time, “some asshole in a pick-up truck with a baseball hat yelling, ‘Hey, Babe!'”

Oh, don’t start hating at me!  There is nothing wrong with driving a pick-up truck or wearing a baseball hat.  Personally, I miss driving a pick-up truck, and I know many very pleasant people who invariably wear a baseball hat.  This was in the late 1980’s.  I’m just repeating what happened and what I said about it at the time.  These days, I usually look.  I haven’t gotten a “Hey, Babe!” in years.  The last thing that got yelled at me was, “Hey, Grandma!”  I laughed at that.

Getting back to today’s good story, when I looked up yesterday, I immediately recognized the delivery car for the Medicine Shoppe, driven by my friend Rick.  We waved at each other.  Yay, I love Rick!  I love The Medicine Shoppe, too, so you see I have gotten a in shout-out to a local business.  Pretty good for 4:30 in the morning.  I’m going back to drinking coffee now.

 

Now I’m Sitting!

Today I had a run in which every step was either a chore or a misery.  I thought I would write a little about it as encouragement to others because, dammit, I kept going.  One might argue that perhaps my body was trying to tell me something and maybe I should listen.  I answer, when do I ever listen to anybody telling me to stop doing something?  It is against my nature.  In fact, it is a little embarrassing how easily reverse psychology works on me.

I almost did not run at all.  I made one stop on the way home from work which naturally  took longer than expected.  Additionally, it was very warm in the sun.  Perfect weather to sit on the porch.  Warmer than I ideally like to run in.  However, things will only get warmer as we get into summer, so I might just as well get used to it.  At least a nice breeze was blowing.

Finding running clothes and putting a load of laundry in took a few minutes, but eventually I was on my way.  A couple was sitting on the porch of the house next door.  We exchanged greetings.

“That’s what I want to be doing,” I said.  It sure was.  I envied all the other porch-sitters I saw as I ran, of which there were a lot.

I had it in my head to do a long run, because I may not get to run Friday or Saturday.  I even thought of running up the hill to Herkimer College.  The heavy traffic on German Street discouraged me from that, because I would have had to cross it at some point, then cross back.  As I continued to put one foot in front of the other, it was brought home to me that my body was not the least bit inclined to run up such a hill anyways.  In short, I did not rock this run.

My legs hurt, my feet hurt, I forgot how to breathe.  I said that sentence as I was narrating in my head (as I like to do when running), then I asked myself, How do you forget to breathe?  You can’t forget to breathe!  Was I breathing?  Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale.  I did not have a Vocal Chord Dysfunction episode, but I just felt I was not getting the oxygen I needed.  Apparently I was, though, because I kept going.  After all, without sufficient oxygen you die, or at least pass out.  You don’t keep running, however slowly.

And it was a slow, slow run.  How in the world was I ever going to run the Boilermaker 15K?  I didn’t want to run at all! I haven’t wanted so badly to stop running since I first started running in Army Basic Training twenty years ago (oh my God, it WAS twenty years ago!).  However, I did not stop running.  I continued.  And I pointed out to myself that I was continuing.  I find it helpful to remind myself how much it can suck and I can still keep going.

I ended my run going up my street on the opposite side from my house.  I ran by the house to the end of the street, crossed the street, and ran back to my house.  It was quite the triumph to keep going that long.  As I passed our neighbors, they were still sitting on the porch.

“You need to sit down,” the lady called to me.

“Ain’t that the truth!”  I shouted back.  I got home, grabbed my bottle of water and walked around the block for my usual cool-down. Oh did it ever feel good to walk!  However it did seem to take a long time to get around the block today.  At long last I passed our neighbors’ house again.  As I hoped, they were still sitting outside.

“Now you’re walking,” the man observed.

I pumped a fist in the air as I answered, “I ran!  I walked!  Now I’m going to shower! And I’m going to sit!”  We all laughed.

 

 

Covered Bridges on Wuss-out Wednesday

So here I sit on Wuss-out Wednesday, and not a word comes to mind to type.  Now I am sternly resisting the urge to backspace over what I just typed in.  I know it is not very good, but if I start that type-it-in-backspace-it-out I’ll never finish this post.  As I like to do in these situations, I looked for some photos to use.

 

Ah, summer is coming!

This is an old Vermont post card.  It is of special interest to me, because my husband Steven and two of his nephews are in it.  They were swimming beneath the covered bridge as they often did when the photographer came along.

A little blurry, but pretty cool!

Here is a closer view.  My silly computer won’t make this one any bigger.  I daresay you couldn’t see the participants much better anyways.  I wish I could find another shot to include!

Found one!

I don’t know any of these people.

I actually found a different one on Facebook and downloaded it.  Then when I went to upload it into this post, I saw this one in our downloads.  Steven must have downloaded it.  I don’t know from where or when.  It fits in better with the previous two than the other.  Then again, why not buck my usual trend and include four photographs?

Different bridge, different season, but isn’t it pretty?

I’ve driven by this bridge many times on trips to Vermont.   It is in West Arlington.  I can give a credit for this one:  John H. Knox of Vermont Four Seasons Photography.  I do like to give credit where credit is due.

So this is my silly post for today.  Heavy on pictures, light on words.  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Beer over Exercise

Yum!

When I was running on Friday afternoon, I ran by the Endzone Pub & Grub on Main Street in Herkimer.  Two guys were sitting at a table on the sidewalk out front, sipping beer.

“That’s where I want to be!”  I said.   Yesterday, I was.

Steven and I had meant to walk to the post office, which we did, then take a long(ish) way home, so it would be good exercise.  Our steps took us by the Endzone and I suggested, not very seriously, that we go in and have a beer.  Much to my surprise, Steven agreed.  I guess when it comes to a choice between beer and exercise, beer wins.  We went in and sat at the bar.

When I asked what was on draft, the bartender told us they had just tapped the Sam Adams Seasonal Ale.  That sounded good to us.  It was!  Very light and flavorful, an excellent summer drink.  Yesterday was such a lovely sunny day, we enjoyed the brew quite a bit.  Towards the end of the beer, Steven said he was hungry.  Obviously the sensible thing to do would be to go home and cook supper, but I said I thought they served food at the Endzone.

“Yes, they have food here,” said a young lady who had just entered and was about to take her drink to one of the tables outside.

We got hot dogs and macaroni salad, with another draft.  Yum!  After we finished eating, we went and sat outside to finish our beers.  A young man went jogging by, and I shared my story of running by and envying the beer drinkers on Friday.  The lady who had told us they had food applauded my better decision to sit and drink beer.  It was a very enjoyable interlude.

The Endzone Pub & Grub is located at 129 N. Main St., Herkimer, NY, phone number 315-219-5796.  They are open Monday from 2 p.m. to 2 a.m., Tuesday through Saturday from noon to 2 a.m., and Sunday from noon to midnight.  You can Like them on Facebook.  I did.

 

It Is Monday After All

As I sat at the Endzone Pub & Grub in Herkimer, NY, this evening, I said to Steven, “I’m going to write my blog post about THIS today!”  Now that I’m home after a couple of beers and some food, and I don’t know that I can really do the place justice.  After all, it is Monday.  I’m tired!

I had a very busy weekend, including a very successful murder mystery on Saturday, auditions for a play on Sunday, and various celebrations and friendly times in between.  I worked a full day today (no overtime, but at my age, just time is enough!).  After work, I wrote some post cards, which I neglected to do on Saturday.  It is a beautiful day outside, so Steven agreed to walk to the post office with me.

Of course we did not walk straight back home.  Long story short(er), we ended up at the Endzone Pub and Grub.  We had some pub.  We had some grub. It was a lovely time.  I hope to write a nice blog post about it.  But that is just the problem.  I want to write a GOOD blog post about an excellent local business.  Right now I feel tired.  And, truth be known, more inclined to watch television.

So, once again, sue me.  I’ll see what I can come up with tomorrow.  As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

Sue Me on Sunday

I was going to write about last night’s theatrical triumph at the murder mystery Who Shot JS?.  I even had a title picked out, “We Killed Off Jack.”  Oh well, maybe not the best title, and perhaps I would have come up with something better.  If I would have written that post.  Logging on to WordPress, I thought perhaps I should look forward not back, and write about the audition I just had for The Tempest for LiFT Theatre Company of Little Falls.  I didn’t do very well but feel I may get a part anyways.  Additionally, I ran this morning, so a Sunday Running Commentary is well within the scope of possibility.

But here I sit, typing in a common or garden Wrist to Forehead Sunday post.

I just can’t help it: I am hard-wired to take Sundays off.  I am not exactly programmed to work as hard as I ought the rest of the days, either, but let’s take our week 1/7th at a time, as God intended (I use that expression a lot, “as God intended,” although I do not really purport to understand the mental workings of the Almighty).

The nice thing is, for the rest of the week, I have no place I have to be until Friday.  Go to work, come home.  Run.  Do laundry.  Clean the house.  Make blog posts.  Simple, right?  Well, I still feel I need to take it a little easy on myself on Sunday.  Sue me.  In the meantime, I am over 200 words.  I am in the bra off, pajama bottoms on, wine sipping, crocheting, TV watching portion of the day.  Time to stop typing and get on with the crocheting and TV watching.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

A Triumph, Or Do I Flatter Myself?

Is it as much of a triumph if, on the way to your goal, you inwardly grumbled and fussed and wished yourself elsewhere?  Or does that make it more of a triumph, that you overcame your own resistance and fought the enemy that was you?

Another philosophical question:  does it matter much if I do another post about running so soon?

The questions in the first paragraph occurred to me in the middle of this morning’s run.  I made it up the hill to Herkimer College (formerly referred to as HCCC), the first time I have done so in a while.  Even getting on the road was something of a triumph, because my first thought on getting out of bed was, “Thank God I ran yesterday when I didn’t want to, because now it won’t be so bad if I don’t run again till tomorrow.”  A cup of coffee helped me change my mind.

It was 46 degrees, according to my thermostat, one degree over my limit for shorts and short sleeves.  I had been going to rethink that rule, but I could not be bothered with thinking this morning.  I found stuff to wear and got out the door.  I soon lamented my cold hands but comforted myself with the thought that I would not try to write anything for a while after the run.

I had told Steven I might run up to HCCC, but I wouldn’t guarantee it.  As a friend of mine said once, “I don’t make plans, promises or excuses.”  I could have expounded for a while on that excellent rule, but I only would have been stalling my run, so I did not.  Instead I ran toward German Street  and turned myself in the direction of the college.  I could not see any alternative to running up that hill.  I had to do it sooner or later, I thought.  The longer I put it off, the worse it would be.  I realize that, logically speaking, that is not strictly true (do I really need both those adverbs in that sentence?  I do tend to overdo it with the adverbs).  If I kept increasing my run time, and kept running other hills (of which there are not that many in Herkimer), it would get easier not harder to run up one particular hill.  But as I said earlier, I could not be bothered with a lot of thinking this morning.

Besides, I wanted to feel bad-ass.

Going up that hill was not fun.  Looking ahead didn’t help.  Looking down at my feet didn’t help.  Looking back at how far I came helped a little bit, since I didn’t do that till I was more than half-way up.  I tried to distract myself by looking at the green on the bushes and some of the trees to the left and right of me.  I do like to see the green.  I did not see any deer or other critters.  A couple of cars went by, also headed up the hill, but I did not try to hitch a ride.  They probably would not have stopped in any case.

At last, at last, I was at the top!  I wanted to put my arms over my head and make fists, although there was nobody nearby to sing, “We Are the Champions”  (regular readers may recall that at the end of a difficult run, I enjoy to walk around with my fists in the air while somebody sings, “We Are the Champions,” if I can get anybody to do so).   I just kept running normally, though, looking forward to the downhill part of my run.

I upped my time by the recommended 10 percent, so I felt pretty pleased about that.  Then I had a hot flash while I was stretching, so a cool shower felt really good.  I used good-smelling soap and lotion (white gardenia, my favorite), so I could feel pretty. Even us bad-ass runners like to feel pretty sometimes. I meant to make my Running Commentary post soon after my run, and perhaps include more of my observations and philosophical thoughts.  Then again, I’ve approaching 700 words.  That is pretty long for me. And I have a murder mystery to get ready for.  Happy Saturday, everyone.