Tag Archives: blog post

It’s Only Lame Post Friday, After All

I am having a simply dreadful time. This is at least the  fourth time I have logged onto WordPress in the last hour and I cannot seem to compose a blog post.  Even a lame one.  What, I ask, is my problem?

I know, a lot of you have been asking that question for years (you know who you are).

Full disclosure (I use that phrase a lot, don’t I?):   It’s not a “real” Friday for me.  I have to work tomorrow.   Of course overtime can be a beautiful thing, especially when one has already spent the money (who, me, not stay within my budget? I daresay I might if I had one, but let’s leave that alone for now).

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I have a fun adventure planned for tomorrow.  At least, I hope it will be fun.  It involves some nice friends and helping a worthy cause.  What’s not to like?  Tonight I have rehearsal for Roxy, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre, another Mohawk Valley adventure.

Now that I think about it, I seem to remember a few other adventures I never wrote about.  Must think back and try to remember those; I don’t suppose it is too late.

All this by way of introduction to a very brief whine about how I can’t seem to get my brain to write anything substantive TODAY!  I feel certain that this is not an uncommon phenomenon among writers.  Perhaps I could overcome it if I sat here and tried.  Unfortunately, I do not have time for such exertions right now.  I must scurry to rehearsal, and when I get home I must hustle to bed to be up early tomorrow.

As I said, I feel dreadful about it.  But not too dreadful to post this piece of nonsense.  I hope you’re all having a marvelous Friday.

 

Blame it on the Boilermaker

I thought that would make a good headline.  I guess what we’re blaming on the Boilermaker is all the running posts I’ve made lately, because I’m making another one today.

I often crash and burn after the Boilermaker.  In fact, that is how I mark it on my calendar:  Sunday: Boilermaker; Monday: Crash; Tuesday: Burn.  What I do not write is Wednesday: start running again, but that is what I did.

All day at work I reminded myself that I was going to run.  And all day I wished I had run Monday or Tuesday (when I was crashing and burning), so I would have an excuse not to run.  But isn’t that always the way it is?  I reminded myself that I do not like to take three days off.  I was going to run.

It’s been stinking hot for two days, but today was nice. Gloomy and almost cold this morning (which is the way I like it).   Sunny this afternoon.  It was quite warm in my vehicle driving home from work, but I did not despair of a moderately comfortable run.

Predictably, it was not comfortable.  For that, perhaps I can blame the Boilermaker (another good reason for the headline!).   I ran slowly.  My legs expressed indignation at having to run.  What, did they think 15 Ks and they were done?  Nonsense!

The sun was bright enough to be hot.  A breeze only occasionally blew. I greatly enjoyed what shade I could find.  I had promised myself a short, easy run.  I shuffled along, hoping I could make it for 20 minutes.

It really was not too bad.  I shuffled along, not worrying too much about speed (do I ever?).  I actually did manage to speed up then sprint it out at the end, so bonus.  I did 22 minutes. 22 has always been my favorite number.  Walking around the block for my cool-down felt really good.

I was glad I had at least gotten back out there. I’ll have to get out for some real runs soon, though. After all, the DARE 5K is only a month away.   Maybe I can write some better blog posts about them.

 

World’s Dumbest Monday

Note to self: If you foolishly decide to run the Boilermaker 15K again, be smart enough to take the NEXT DAY OFF.  It was not such a bad day, but oh, it was long, oh, I was tired, and, oh, I do not feel like writing a blog post right now.  I know, what a kvetch. I should get over myself.

In fact, I did write something while at work.  I don’t feel like typing it in (too long, needs editing).   I got two paragraphs typed in before I petered out.  I’ll finish it tomorrow or Wednesday.  Unless I go running on those days and write running commentaries.   After all, a good run might help my aching legs, then I wouldn’t complain so much.

In the meantime, I would like to post something so I can go back to watchingWorld’s Dumbest on TruTV and enjoying the evening with my husband  (you see what I did with that headline:  I’m watching World’s Dumbest and I’m apologizing because today’s post is kind of dumb).  What to write?  What to write?  What to write?

It was my first day back at work after two weeks off.  I’m going to just go ahead and confess, I did not get much writing done during my time off.  How embarrassing is that?  I have to wonder, is this one reason I’m having such trouble today?  I often observe, writing begets writing.  Maybe I just have not been writing enough.

Ah, but the thought brings me a frisson of hope. Perhaps by writing this blog post, dumb as it may be, I will gain some momentum and write something else.   Maybe after a good night’s sleep and something for my aching middle-aged muscles.

 

 

Wrist to Boilermaker

I knew I should have written this post yesterday.  Well, I was trying to hydrate for the Boilermaker 15K, the premier  15K in Utica, NY.   I ran today.  Then I went to my sister’s house, where I daresay I could have gotten on one of her devices and posted something. Instead I drank some wine, ate some food, swam in the pool twice — once with my delightful great nephew — and generally had a wonderful post-race time.

Now I am at home and I do not feel inclined to make a post, “real”  or otherwise.  Of course I must make a post.  I make a post every day. Luckily for me it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  How many good posts do I make on a Sunday?  Not many,I’m thinking (naturally I am not inclined to look).

I’ll write a few words on the Boilermaker 15K.  I enjoyed it.  For the first mile or so I felt I was running faster than I wanted to, in spite of the fact that I thought 13,999 runners were passing me (the cap was supposedly 14,000 runners).  After that  I felt I was not capable of running as fast as I thought I should.  Then I thought to myself, Just run your race, run your pace, don’t worry about it.

I am so glad I ran it.  I can’t say how soon I shall run it again.  However, I hope to write another blog post about it soon. In the meantime, I hope you are all having a delightful Sunday.

 

On Your Mark, Get Set, Get Nervous

It’s a Mental Meanderings Monday and let me tell you, today I am all over the map.  Not literally.  I did take a long walk that covered a bit of the map of Herkimer, but that’s neither here nor there. Or rather, that was here and there.  Oh dear, I am not making much sense today.

The fact is, the Boilermaker is a mere five days away and I am NERVOUS.  Here’s now nervous I am:  I just hit something and erased what I had just typed in.   As I tried to get it back, I thought, really, no big whoop, it was a dumb paragraph. I can write something better.  Then I got it back and thought, waste not, want not (a favorite saying of mine).

It’s just pre-race jitters, a perfectly normal phenomenon.  All I have to do is get to the race and start running and I’ll be fine.  Well, there’s one problem right there: I have to get to the race.   I keep telling myself:  it’s not a problem:  Steven will drop me off.   So why do I still feel nervous?  OK, try not to dwell on it.  Drink some water.

There’s another problem:  am I hydrated enough?  I keep drinking water, with an occasional break of Gator Ade or seltzer with lemon.   OK, I drank coffee this morning.  Two and a half cups.  I’m sure that’s too much.  And I probably should not have had that wine yesterday.  It is kind of a thing with me to enjoy a glass or two of white wine on a Sunday, but I suppose one ought to forgo these things a week before the Boilermaker.

Well, I can’t help the coffee and wine I already drank, can I?  I can’t help the sprints I didn’t run; it’s too late now.  As a matter of fact, I think I did train enough to run 15 Ks. My last few runs have felt really good.  Maybe not for the whole run, but for a good part of it.  Perhaps I could have run more and would feel even better now, but all things considered (you know, like being  middle-aged and having a life plus the changeable Mohawk Valley weather), I think I did OK.

So I guess this is my post for the day.  I’ve blathered on for almost 400 words about my foolish nerves.  I’d like to feel I’ve gotten it out of my system.  I have rehearsal tonight for Roxy, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre.  Perhaps tomorrow I could take a day off from All Boilermaker All The Time and write about that.

 

Don’t Tell the Cookbook Conglomerate!

So there I was, planning to do a Tired Tuesday post when I remembered I had a minor snack to put together in the kitchen.  I can’t say “cooking post,” because it is not cooked. Call it a recipe post and this can be Tasty Tuesday.  How does that sound?

I’ve had an unopened package of cream cheese in the refrigerator since my last party (didn’t make all the refreshments I had envisioned).   Rest assured, I have kept checking the “use by” date.  Then again, why should you care, unless you meant to stop by and have some.  Of course I should be delighted to have company.  Stop on by.

The recipe I wanted to use I stole from my sister Diane.   I don’t know where she got it, so I may very well be getting myself in big trouble from some cookbook conglomerate, but, hey, I need a blog post.

The recipe says to mix an envelope of Italian salad dressing mix with the cream cheese.  Come to think of it, they may even specify Good Seasons, and Diane got the recipe from the package of Good Seasons.  So there’s a little gratuitous product placement for you.  Full disclosure:  I usually buy store brand.

Only I hadn’t bought any store brand this time.  Here’s something funny:  I said to myself, “If I was really high speed, I wouldn’t use the envelope, I’d use fresh garlic and chives from the garden and make something up.  That would be a better blog post, too.  Nah, I’ll just be lazy.”  Imagine my chagrin.  On the other hand, you see how I err on the side of honesty for your entertainment (I do hope somebody is entertained by my silliness).

Trapped into being high speed,  I contemplated the chives.  It was pouring rain out, and I was wearing little canvas sneakers.  Surely fresh garlic and spices would be sufficient.  Why should I get my feet wet for the sake of a blog post?  I crushed up some garlic and set the timer for 15 minutes, so it could reach its full antioxidant effect.   Oh, what the hell.  I went out and got the chives.

It really wasn’t so bad.  For one reason, there is a patch of chives very close to the house.  I avoided stepping in the big puddle right next to them (a puddle in the yard?  Really?  Who else has one of those?) and also avoided picking too many.   Back in the house I chopped them up and put them in a bowl with the cream cheese.

I forgot to mention that the cream cheese had been sitting out for a couple of hours to soften up.  And it is actually Neufchatel, which is a third less fat and fun to say (try it).  I added horseradish and dill, then mushed it together with the potato masher.  After some consideration I added lemon pepper, oregano and basil.  Mushed some more.  When the timer buzzed, I put in the garlic, mushed some more, then used a fork to make sure the stuff was thoroughly mixed.

My mixture is now sitting so the flavors can blend.  When I get ready to, I will spread it on flat bread which I will use to make small sandwiches with sliced cucumber.  Yum!  You know, now that I think about it, it is possible that the original recipe for this calls for the sandwiches to be open-faced.  It may even have been like a cold cucumber pizza.  It was some years ago my sister first made the stuff.

So was this post better or worse than a typical Tired Tuesday?  It matters not.  This is my story and I’m sticking to it.  Hope to see you all on Wuss-out Wednesday (good God, I’ll be half-way through the week by tomorrow!  I should have known:  vacation weeks are always shorter).

 

My Muddled Monday

Well, I’ve been posting lame since Thursday and I’m sorry about that, but the trend continues.   Today is a new feature called Muddled Monday.  It’s a little like Scattered Saturday.

Today is the first day of a two week break for me (my employer’s idea, not mine).  Steven had to work at 8:30, so we were up betimes (doesn’t that sound fancier than “early”?).  After I let him out of the driveway I ran to the store for a couple of things we needed.   As I drove home, I decided to go for a run.

It was a really good run.  I wanted to write a blog post about it.  Unfortunately, I was meeting my friend, Sherry, to do some fundraising stuff for the Sitrin Run/Walk to benefit veteran rehabilitation programs. We’re on Team Uncle Leo.

What a day!  We went all over the place, stopping at many local businesses. The highlight was The Locavore in Frankfort, NY, a place I had never been.  I got a sample of hot garlic-horseradish pickles. Yum!  I bought some. I mean to do a whole post on The Locavore.   Perhaps I’ll go shop there again first.  You know, to really get a feel for the place.  And maybe to buy more pickles.

I must say, this charity work is not easy, even when you do cravenly let your friend do most of the talking, which I’m afraid I did.  After all our running around I’m tired.  Or maybe because of the running around I did before we left (up to Herkimer College once again; it’s quite a hill).

I’ll write more about the Sitrin Run/Walk soon, and about the fundraising efforts of  Team Uncle Leo.  But right now I have to drink some more Gator Ade in preparation for the Boilermaker 15K.  It’s in less than two weeks!

 

In My Defense, It Was a LONG Run!

I had thought to do a Saturday Running Commentary.  Actually, I had been going to do a Friday Running Commentary, but after my run and before I got to the blog, my dearest husband, Steven, came home and suggested we go to PK’s Pub for dinner.   We’ll blame yesterday’s silliness on that.

This morning I decided not to run, because I had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.  I actually did not plan on starting any of it before nine, when I would drop Steven off at work, but I thought I could have coffee with him and plan my course of action.  Full disclosure:  I did not exactly do that, but I did drink some Gator Ade and cure my headache (YES, I had another Saturday headache!  It’s almost enough to make a girl prefer Mondays!) (but not quite).

One thing I had been going to do was Coffee and Conversation with a Cop, which I thought was the last Saturday of the month.  However, when I drove by the church that hosts the program, the sign was not out front.  Rats.  Well, I thought, this will give me time to run.  It wouldn’t have to be a long run.  Maybe even a run with no hills.  But definitely a shorter run, I reasoned, mentally calculating how much I had to get done.

As you may have guessed, it was not a short run.  It was an hour and a half.  Then a ten-minute cool-down walk.  Then stretching, then a shower… and I definitely had to eat something.  I probably should have drunk some more Gator Ade, but one doesn’t have time for everything.  I did drink a big glass of milk.  Lots of protein in milk.

Obviously I had no time to get to the computer and type.  It is really too bad, because both runs were significant.  I felt pretty bad ass both days, and I would like to write a post detailing my triumphs.  By now, however, I have meandered all over the keyboard writing nonsense.  Not even very amusing nonsense at that.

Sorry, kids, but I guess we’ll have to call it Wrist to Forehead Saturday or Wuss-out Saturday or Lame Again Saturday… can’t think of anything alliterative, can I?  I’ve got it:  a Sad Saturday Post.  To clarify, I don’t particularly FEEL sad, but I feel that this is a sad post.  I’ll see what I can come up with for tomorrow.

 

Aunt Cindy Killed Somebody?

Don’t you think that’s a catchy title for Non-Sequitur Thursday? I do so love an eye-catching headline.  However, I am going to go on to explain that one and talk about killing somebody else, so it is not exactly a non-sequitur.  I ask you to bear with me.

I was on the phone with my sister, Diane, who also writes novels. I had written her a long letter lamenting my novel woes.  I had talked about character and plot, which I rarely do.  For one reason, once you’ve talked about it, you often feel you don’t have to write it.  Must maintain that oomph, after all.  For another reason, the person you’re telling it to might roll their eyes and say, “That’s been done.”  I hate that.  However, desperate times call for desperate measures, so I wrote the letter.

Diane, alas, did not have any specific advice for me.   It had been a couple of weeks since I had written the letter, so I updated her on a couple of  scenes I had written.

“I killed off another character,” I said. “But not one of the ones I was talking about in the letter.”

I heard my niece in the background say, “Aunt Cindy killed somebody?”

I don’t know why she sounded surprised.

The reason I’m using this admittedly thin story for a post is that I must post and run today.  Steven and I have a read-through for a play we are in.  Perhaps you read a previous post where I spoke of how we had auditioned for Roxy, which is being presented by the Herkimer County Historical Society and Ilion Little Theatre Club.  We are very excited to be part of this original production, which is written by a local author and concerns a local, historical case.

The play is about Roxalana Druse, who killed her husband in the Town of  Warren.  She was tried in the  Herkimer County Courthouse, imprisoned and later hanged in the 1843 Jail, which is right across the street.   I believe much of the dialogue is taken from actual court testimony.

Guess what part I got. I’ll give you a hint:  see the headline of this post.

Better Luck Next Tired

Full disclosure:  I did not intend to do a running commentary today.  I wrote a blog post while on breaks at work.  Unfortunately, it is too long for me to type in tonight.  Give me a break, it’s Tired Tuesday!  Could it be I am tired because I ran?  No!  I was tired to begin with.  I invite you to read on…

I spent the last couple of  hours at work telling myself that it was a VERY GOOD IDEA that I go running.  Actually, I was thinking things like, “I must, I positively must run”  and “I have to run tonight, I HAVE to.”  I re-phrased it to “very good idea” in order to short circuit my naturally rebellious nature.  Still, when it poured rain for a short time, I had a moment of hope that I would be off the hook. Only a moment, though.  In the first place, I figured it would stop raining.  In the second place, I have a mini-tramp on which I can run in place during inclement weather.

The rain stopped after a very short time.  It was sunny and breezy by the time I headed home.  Steven was already there.

“A  twenty minute  run will be sufficient for my purposes today,” I said.  I had hopes that I would run for longer once I got going, but it is difficult to predict these things.

To begin with the run was not much fun.  The sun was hot, I knew that going in.  The cooling breeze blew up into a strong wind that was dead against me.  What was that all about? Never mind, I told myself.  It will just take me longer to get from point A to point B. I wondered if it was going to rain again.  It seemed there was not a cloud in the sky, except for a few fluffy, harmless-looking white puffs. No sudden storm was going to let me off the hook ten minutes in.  That was all right too.  Just keep going.

I had a vague thought to run up the hill to Herkimer College.  I wondered if I would make it.  I have previously stated that once I start up a hill it is almost a foregone conclusion that I will make it to the top.  The question was, would I start?  I  turned at Lou Ambers Drive.  I considered stopping at the spring for a quick sip, but it wasn’t that long  into the run.  Besides, I had been drinking water all day.  Surely I was hydrated (I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).

The road has a bit of an upslope, then goes level, then goes steeply up, around a curve and up some more.  I was still on the gentle upslope when the wind against me got even stronger.  It cost a great effort to move even at my middle-aged shuffle.  I decided I would NOT go all the way up the hill.  After all, I did not intend to write a blog post about the run.  I would not have to embarrassedly confess to my readers that I started up a hill and turned off.  I would turn off into the residential area (which I like to call the suburbs) and perhaps run a hill or two there.

The  wind got stronger yet.  I was not all the way up the upslope when I said, “To Hell with this!” and turned around.  The wind almost immediately died down rather than give me a nice push. I have to wonder about that.  Was it all psychological? Or maybe a ghost?  I ask these questions now as I write this. At the time I merely felt a grim  satisfaction at having said, “To hell with it.”

I went through the parking lot of Salvatore’s, because there was some nice shade. I spent a good part of the rest of the run looking at my watch to make sure I at least ran twenty minutes.   It looked as if I would just make it. My body was not feeling any happier with me. I knew I could keep going, but it was not going to get fun.  I thought, “If I’m not into it by now, I am not going to be into it today.”

When I got back to my street, my run unexpectedly lengthened. I had crossed the street, which put me on the same side as a little dog.  I  did not want to disturb the dog, so I continued down the  block and ran up the street parallel to mine.  I felt vaguely pleased with myself over this.  The run still wasn’t fun, but I knew I could keep going.  Many of us, I reflected, can keep going for longer than we think  we can.

I ended up running for 28 minutes.  It would have been nice to make it at least a half hour, but I felt happy that I had gone over my self-mandated twenty.  As I walked my cool-down, I complimented some neighbors on a beautiful new porch they are putting up.  They said thank you. Perhaps now I can go  sit on my own perfectly attractive old porch.   Like I said, I’m tired.