Saturday: Slacker and Spin Review

You know, I guess our bodies let us know when we need some extra time and despite all my well-laid plans for a long run, it just didn't happen.  I had trouble sleeping, Ivan was up and down every other hour, due to some serious storms and no one really got to sleep until about 4:30 or 5:00 AM, and my alarm went off at 5:15 AM.  Just brutal.  

Now, right after Ivan was born and I was able to start running again, I had a few nights where I was up all night and I still got up and ran with the 6:00 AM group.  BUT, that was at that terrible stage where, as a new parent, you get sort of used to living on adrenaline and you want to get out and get back into your routine.  It is sort of like I can't really function like that anymore, but I used to do it.  Not today.

So, anyway, two consecutive days off never killed anyone.

Now, last Tuesday night, I took a spin class at a local gym.  Here is what I learned about spin classes at local gyms.  They are playing checkers.  After attending the chess classes that are taught by Todd Nordmeyer, spin class just feels like goofing off.  Just a lot of loud music and encouragement to work really hard, and the instructor talked to us about the Spice Girls and various episode of the bachelor and bachelorette. I felt like a burned calories, but that was all.  I did not hone my skills or increase my aerobic base.  


The whole Todd Nordmeyer experience, just blows a gym spin class out of the water. Taking your bike to class and hooking into a whole system that reports all your progress on the big screen in front of the whole class allows for zero cheating and it forces you to max your effort.  Also, the expertise of the Todd Nordmeyer, who has biked professionally, is worth a million.   


To improve my biking, I feel that the optimal situation would be to attend Todd Nordmeyer's classes once a week and maybe on the weekends and then bike outside a couple of days a week. If the weather is bad, I should be disciplined enough to bike indoors on my trainer with a Spinervals dvd.  Todd's classes have kind of fallen by the wayside, because he moved his bike studio farther away from my house.  However, there is absolutely no substitute for Todd's classes in the Nashville area, and after the gym spin class, I may need to move a Todd class or two back into my regimen.  


I think I can let gym spin classes go, but WOW, they had great showers!!

Friday: A Day Off, Sort Of

Ivan in the Meerkat Habitat

A friend of mine once told me that once you have children, there is no such thing as a weekend or a day off.  This did not seem believable at the time, but she was for serious.  I took the day off today, and worked out harder than ever, and that doesn't even count the real live work that I did for money.

Another friend, pointed out to me that I had not taken a day off since the devil-fired and dastardly Music City Triathlon, and no doubt about it, a day off needs to be taken.  So today, I did not work out, but I had Ivan's burgeoning social schedule to manage, so we were off and running to the pool for a swim lesson touch up at 9:30, where we stayed for an hour or so with me all the while chasing Ivan down, pulling him out of the deep end and threatening him within an inch of his life to stop running.  We left there to meet a friend at Chic-Fil-A where they have a playplace (just awful) and I climbed to the top not once, not twice, but three times to drag Ivan from the top where he was stuck like a cat in a tree.  Then, we raced home for a nap before heading off to the zoo for the afternoon.  The zoo was an inferno and I pushed his stroller up every hill with sweat rolling down my back and my cute zoo ensemble drenched as if I had run a marathon. It was all worth it, however, for Ivan's excitement at seeing the monkey's swing and his beside himself jubilation at seeing the huge fish in the aquarium.

Early run tomorrow morning and Yogurt World tomorrow night!!  My punch card is full, so free yogurt!!!

Thursday: Run, Pure Barre and Hair Resolution

It seems like it has been a long time since I was able to stick to my weekly workout routine.  Really, it has been since July 2nd, when the great Pink Eye saga began.  I have been pretty on it this week, but I feel like next week is my week to start the flow of my routine without cowing to sickness, a competition, a hair appointment, or my work schedule.  Next week is my week.

Anyway, today, Ivan and I popped out for a jog stroller run, which was unbearably hot, BUT after enduring a three hour incarceration in the Music City Triathlon. The hottest and most hellish event of all time, a 30 minute run outside was small beans.  In fact, I am somewhat concerned that I will now judge all heat as compared to the Music City Triathlon, and nothing will ever seem hot again, especially for just 30 minutes.  Today's run was a bit like opening the door of a hot oven to stick in a trey of cookies.  Sunday's triathlon however, was more comparable to hanging out in a burning building just for the heck of it.  No comparison.

Anyway, I did my Pure Barre video in the afternoon, while Ivan watched The Wizard of Oz, which he loves.

This evening, I had a hair appointment, and I made a decision in terms of my hair, that I am going to try for 6 weeks and then reevaluate.  I am only going to wash my hair on the days that I swim.  On the other days, I am only going to condition and style as usual.  Supposedly, this is much better for your hair and will allow it to stay shiny and manageable until the next salon appointment. So, remind me six weeks to give you a full report.

Also, I am not washing my hair for two days after my salon appointment,  BECAUSE, I read that Ken Paves, hair guru to the stars and sayer of gospel truths, says that no matter what your stylist tells you about washing your hair after a salon appointment, you need to wait at least two days to use shampoo, no matter what, to allow your hair cuticle to reform with the treatment.  SO, I am going to follow his advice and see how it all goes.

Wednesday: Swim and Splits are Out for the Music City Triathlon

This morning, we were up late at the Sloan house, after a rather rocky night of infant wakefulness.  My favorite thing is when everyone sleeps through the night without even a peep, and last night was just not one of those nights.  SO, when it was time to head out to swim, things were not running in timely fashion.  Also, the most frustrating thing of all: the car seat was in the wrong car, so there was much running back and forth between cars, rearranging, and situating.  We did get out the door for swim, but we were running late. Ivan had a hard core meltdown when I dropped him off at the nursery and I got to the pool only to find that it is Senior Olympics week in Middle Tennessee, so we didn't really have our own lanes or even a coach.  

We all just scrunched into a lane together and our old swim coach, Dennis, took pity on us and wrote a workout on a big dry erase board.  Workout as follows:

• 400 warmup
• 400 kick
• 4 x 200 (odds IM, evens swim)
• 400 kick
• 8 x 100 descend
• 400 kick

I felt pretty good about getting in 3200 meters.  I swam my 8 x 100's at about 1:45 intervals.  It was a reasonably hard workout after my race on Sunday, from which I am still really not recovered.   

So splits are out for the Music City Triathlon and my times are interesting.  In 2009, my swim was 31:02, my bike was 1:33:44, and my run was 49:53 (the bike time included transition time, as does the run time.  That is just how they did the splits last year).  For 2010, when the splits came out, I had dropped from 7th to 8th place in my age group, and my times are as follows: 32:27 swim with a four minute transition afterwards, 1:34 bike with a 2:21 transition afterwards and a 50 minute run.  There was a ten minute total time difference between my two races.  

I mean, when I really look at the numbers, it was a bad race. My swim was a couple of minutes slower, my bike is slower (and I am biking SO much more than last year) and my run was slower.  I know that the heat was a factor, but that is no excuse for a slower swim.  I have no words for my slowness on the bike, and honestly, with the heat, my run was probably as good as it could have gotten.  This is all rather disappointing.  Maybe it was the pink eye/ heat combo that resulted in poor performance.  

Hmmm.

Tuesday: Four Things I Forgot to Tell You About the Music City Triathlon and Track Workout

I forgot to mention four things about the Music City Triathlon that I am sure you want to know:

1. I had no choice but to use a port-a-john in my bare feet before the swim.  It was scary and terrible, but I am choosing to believe that the funk in the Cumberland River somehow negates whatever I could have caught from the bathroom floor.  It still shivers me timbers, but there really was no other option.
2. After I came out of the bathroom, I realized that I had inexplicably stuck one of my Dr. Pepper chapsticks into my bathing suit right above my hip on the right side.  (Now, I always have AT LEAST two Dr. Pepper chapsticks on my person: one in my pocket, one in my purse.  I am fearful about being caught somewhere without my chapstick.  I like the way it tastes and smells.  It gives a slightly pinkish tint to my lips.  Sometimes, I go to Walgreens and notice that there are only two or three Dr. Pepper chapsticks left, and I buy all of of them, because what if they stop making them, and I am BEREFT?  My lips will just flake off, and I will be lipless.)  Anyway, I did not have time to go back and leave my chapstick in transition and I WAS NOT going to throw away a perfectly good Dr. Pepper Chapstick.  That is crazy talk!!!!!  SO, I simply left the chapstick where it was, AND I swam a full mile.  Unbelievably, the chapstick did not move at all.  It stayed put, was quite comfortable and I was able to reapply as I ran to transition.  AMAZING!!!!
3. Gatorade was giving out their new recovery drink at the end of the triathlon. I love myself a Gatorade and I was pretty thrilled to pop the cap and try it.  When I did, I was forced to honestly apprise if there was any chance that Gatorade was trying to poison me personally.  It was a taste somewhere between chemical and sour dairy.  I have a cast-iron stomach, and I had a strong desire to hurl Wayne's World style.  Though I had just completed a triathlon in 95 degree heat, I was forced to turn down a Gatorade (one of my primary summer joys).  It was very disappointing.  I wish I could recommend it, but I think that we should seek other recovery beverage sources.
4. Finally, as I was getting out of the water from my warm up swim before the race, there was a weathered older man waiting at the ladder asking about how the ladder felt getting out.  He was wearing a Pucci-esque speedo suit, and I found out that he was 81 years old and had completed an astronomical number of races this year.  Now, I assumed that maybe he was doing a relay or aquabike, BUT NO he swam the mile, biked the 26 and ran the 6.2.  A LEGEND.  MY LONG TERM GOAL.  

Now, this morning was my first track workout since our pink eye drama.  I knew that I was most likely going to be a bit slower, especially since my run this weekend was so excruciating.  At the track, Mark Miller told us all about the workout, which he referred to as a "Russian".

A Russian is three 300s, with a 40 second hundred meter jog in between.  We ran at fast (F) pace, which was about a minute per 300.  After we finished three 300s, we jogged a 900. This is a Russian. So, we did three Russians.  

Now, the first Russian was not that bad.  The second Russian, I could not quite keep up with Tracy.  I felt like I was running really fast, but not going anywhere.  During the third Russian, there just was almost no difference between my run and my jog.  I felt rather tragic and sad, and honestly, if I had not missed the last two workouts, I would not have gone, based on recovery from my triathlon.  BUT, since I had missed the last two sessions, I felt like I needed to get back in there and run real fast.  Good for me!!

Also, I just checked my Music City Triathlon splits and my swim was unexpectedly bad and, my bike was bad, but that is absolutely to be expected.  My run was not as bad as I thought, nor were my transitions.  

Took a spin class tonight.  Will tell about it later.

Monday: Run and Swim and Recipe

Race Pic taken by my friend Abby.
Is there such a thing as a
good race pic?!

I did an easy run and swim today.  I met my friend Sara early for a run, and then hustled home to load Ivan up for swim.  Now, today was Ivan's first day back to the swim nursery in three weeks and he has been talking about it for a couple of days.  He has been asking about Ms. Pat and the pool, so I thought he would rush right into the nursery and have the most fun ever.  This was not the case, and he proceeded to scream as if he was auditioning for the starring role in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  It was rough, and I had to sprint out of the nursery so he would calm down.

Swim felt great, but I was glad to get home and my appetite was through the roof.  I don't know that I ate enough yesterday, and I came straight home and made some Lara Bars, before diving into a bowl of guacamole and sweet potato chips.

Now, for several months, I have been having a pistachio thing, and I have PERFECTED it in my rice pilaf.   It is amazing and once you make it, you might make it every night.  Honestly, if there is enough left over, I am totally having it for breakfast tomorrow morning. Recipe as follows:

• one shallot diced
• one tsp of butter
• cup brown rice prepared according to package directions
• two or three tablespoons of mint diced up
• feta cheese
• one cup of pretty finely chopped pistachios

1. sautee the shallot in the butter
2. stir it into the freshly prepared brown rice
3. stir nuts, feta and mint into the rice mixture
4.  serve immediately

Sunday: The Music City Triathlon

 Me at the 2009 Music City Triathlon

This morning, for one of the first times in my life, I got to the race before transition even opened.  It was pretty amazing, and I scored an amazing parking place that was right on top of the transition.  Having attended zero races where I arrived on time, this was really nice.  I got body marked before there was a line (Last year, I arrived SO LATE that there were no body markers left, and I had to borrow a Sharpie from another racer.)

Anyway, I was really wishing that I had brought a book by the time I lined up for the swim.  There was a lot of time to roam around after I set up my transition area and returned to my car to deposit all superfluous packet items.  I had a small drama before the swim, when I left my goggles in a porta-john, but I located them and it all worked out (which for me is kind of great, as I often forget things and sometimes they do not turn up before the race).

Now, I will say that I was royally bummed that Team Magic made the decision to start the Sprint racers before the Olympic Distance racers.  It was a forecasted 98 degrees today and starting the Olympic Distance racers after the Sprint racers meant that I did not get in the water until 8:30ish or maybe even later.  It was brutally hot then and an hour and forty minutes later when I started my run, It was full on into the heat of the day.

Also, today I was race number 764, and Richard Baker (Triswami) was race number 765. This meant we got in the water together, AND racked our bikes together.  Now racing in the proximity of Richard Baker is a real learning experience.  If Richard Baker and I were in the movie Better Off Dead, I would be the one saying to "go that way real fast, and if something gets in your way, turn", and he would be the one skiing the K-12.  He's that good.


Anyway, I got to stand in line with Richard and soak in his knowledge while I stood in line for the swim, but let me tell you what really impressed me.  I, miraculously, beat Richard Baker into the transition from the swim, where I spent less (I thought) than my typical amount of time putting on chapstick, shuffling into my bike shoes, locating my sunglasses, ect.  Richard Baker hustled into transition and took THIRTY SECONDS to throw on his helmet and grab his bike, maybe less.  His bike shoes were already clipped to the bike, he hopped on and fastened his shoes as he road.  Five minutes later, I was still floundering around, apply sunscreen and digging out electrolyte pills from my bike bucket.

It was just phenomenal.  I was positively spellbound as I was sitting there on my bucket stool fumbling around for socks.  I was so spellbound that I exclaimed, "Richard, that took like 30 seconds".  Richard looked at me, and I caught a glint in his eye.  The glint said to me, as I sat fumbling around with my socks, "Yeah, sweetheart, this is now the pros do it; The people who are serious;  The people who practice transitions."

Anyway, needless to say, that was the last I saw of Richard Baker, until he lapped me on the run.

Overall, the Music City Triathlon was a well done event. The swim was great, the bike felt reasonable to me, most likely because I have been putting in more bike time, but the run felt like my all time worst.  Like I said, it was 98 when we started the run, and I clocked a 7:30 first mile, but after that I alternated between nausea and cold chills.  I drank water and hammer heed every half mile, but was still rather suspicious that I was in the early stages of heat stroke.  I actually had a lot of kick left at the end of the run, which makes me wonder if I held back on the run, while fearing heat stroke.  There was liquid all over the course and even the policemen were carrying water bottles to hand out.

I was 10 minutes slower this year and I was seventh place this year, where last year I was fourth.  This was a bummer. Splits aren't posted yet, so I will compare all results when they are.  I feel like I am biking better, so I had hoped that that would change my overall time for the significantly better.  The bike usually ruins my times, so I was hoping for massive improvement.  The heat was certainly a problem, and I had suffered the pink eye situation which had kept me out of the pool for a full 2 weeks and kept me out of my speed sessions.  Maybe all this is why.  Maybe there is no why.

Finally, I learned something important today, and that is that I need to buy and wear a kit.  A kit, I learned today, is one of the trisuits that covers you from shoulders to shorts.  I have been racing in a bathing suit and I got sunburned on my back to day.  A kit would have eliminated some of that issue.  It also would have made me look as if I were there to play the game instead of paddle in the pool.

Saturday: Easy Run on Account of Music City Triathlon Tomorrow

Since the end of our pink eye drama, I have been having all sorts of trouble getting my sleep schedule back on track.  Also, I am embroiled in a love affair with Team of Rivals, the wonderful book by Doris Kearns Goodwin.  Both of these factors have been contributing to my staying up a bit too late AND, as you would expect, having a bit of trouble getting up in the morning.  I have attempted to set my angry alarm clock to the contemporary Christian station in order to have a more positive wake-up call.  Confession: Nothing is positive at 5:25 AM.

Anyway, I did make it out of bed and I did get to the park to meet my friend Dru, so that we could run the 5.8.  It is stifling; just so hot.  Today was one of the first times that it actually felt hotter in the woods, as opposed to cooler.  We just sweltered the whole run, and it felt a lot longer than 5.8 miles  Anyway, we finished, hung out a bit to catch up with the rest of the running crew, and I headed home.

At home, I counted down the minutes till I could take a nap and when Ivan got in bed for his nap, I took a very serious nap, which felt great.  I have also hydrated like a madman in an effort to be ready for the oppressive heat that will be the Music City Triathlon tomorrow.

I will let you know how it goes.  One thing I know for sure is that it will end at Yogurt World!!

Friday: Nothing

I didn't work out at all today. My dad had a small procedure at the hospital this morning, so I headed down to Vanderbilt where I sat with my mom. NOW, let me tell you what happened when I got there: Serious Parking Garage Drama.

Now, my husband has loaded a Yakima silver storage on the top of my car which is a rather tallish SUV anyway. Now, I hopped in the car this morning and promptly headed down to Vanderbilt where my parking options were a garage. I, because I am oblivious, pulled into the parking garage like I was driving a sedan. I hit the height bar at full parking garage speed. It was quite loud and the parking attendant had some serious histrionics. After his initial meltdown, however, Forrest was actually quite nice about the parking debacle.

BUT, he insisted that my only parking option was the East Medical Tower Garage, and decided he would help me remove the silver bullet from the top of the car so that I could park. SO, in 100 degree heat, wearing my white shorts, I ended up crouched like a monkey on the top of my car trying to pry the bullet off my car. I was positively drenched in sweat. It was all very frustrating and, more so, because all the hospital employees that were taking their smoke breaks had advice about what to do. All sorts of advice. Ridiculous advice that I will not go into, but suffice it to say that I seriously thought of taking the silver bullet off the car and handing it over the smoke-breakers to do with what they would.

I finally just told Forrest that our parking relationship was not going to work out, and I sought other parking options, which I found after circling around forever. Upstairs, I had a great visit with my mom until my dad came out of surgery. Everything went really well, and I headed home afterwards to begin a massive grocery expedition with Ivan in tow. I had to make three stops, and Ivan was a trooper for the most part.

At home, I achieved a momentous cooking feat: I replicated a Lara Bar. Lara Bars are these fabulous raw foods bars that are made with various combinations of raw nuts and dried fruits. I found another blog that gives all the particulars of measurement for making Lara Bars and my first attempt was the best Lara Bar that I have ever tasted.

You will have to look at the blog, as it gives explicit directions and pictures to make your Lara Bars. If I could just find a recipe for Grab the Gold Bars, my life would be complete.

Thursday: Gilad, Bike and Some Serious Overeating

This morning was a Four Weddings and a Funeral morning for me. I tried to find a clip of this part of the film where Hugh Grant wakes up and looks contentedly at the alarm clock, only to allow his eyes to focus, before hurling himself out the bed, screeching expletives and throwing on whatever clothes he can find. I couldn't find any video, except in Russian, so I will just have to tell you about it.

Anyway, I set my alarm last night and I rolled over this morning, only to see that the alarm had not gone off and I needed to be in my car in 15 minutes. I shot out of bed like a bullet, shouting things that I will not repeat to you. Honestly, I spent 10 of those 15 minutes running around in circles, looking for things, hopping into a skirt, begging my husband to get coffee started, and thinking on the deep hurt that I felt towards my alarm clock that had betrayed me.

I sprinted into work, and got there just 10 minutes late to meet my appointment. Whatever, I didn't brush my teeth and the other aspects of my personal hygene were negligible, but I was able to professionally apologize for my lateness and move on with my day.

NOW, after work, I met my mother for birthday lunch with my husband and son. I have a deep love for the Cheesecake factory. I am fascinated by their huge portions, the kids that come there for their birthday parties, the millions of different kinds of cheesecake. The menu takes forever to read, and a lot of the things on it are sort of huge and scary. It really is staggering. I always get the same thing, and I look forward to it every year. Lunch portion salmon with asparagus, with the key lime cheesecake for dessert. I also eat the entire contents of the bread basket and use butter. It is once a year, and I don't feel bad about it. Usually.

This year, however, I have to say that I just can't eat like this anymore. I ate way too much, and I felt like I needed to be rolled out of the Cheesecake Factory in Ivan's stroller. I have felt horrid ever since. I had a bike ride tonight and let me just tell you, I felt like I was dragging along a cannonball. Every time we started uphill, I just couldn't keep up. My stomach felt all funny, and it just wasn't great. Even now, I am regretting my earlier food choices.

I am back on it tomorrow. I am putting my oatmeal in the fridge even as I speak. Bike ride was 20ish miles long and my Gilad workout was great.

Also, I got my computer back from MacAuthority. Good for me.

Wednesday: Swim Mix Up and Pure Barre

Normally, on Wednesday morning, I head out to swim, but the parent of one of my husband's high school friends passed away and my husband thought, FOR SURE, that his pink eye had come back. So last night, it was determined that I would represent the Sloan family at the funeral, as going to a funeral and spreading the viral pink eye to a grieving population seems doubly inappropriate.

So this morning, I laid out the funeral uniform (double strand gray pearls, single strand white pearls, stud earrings, my grandmother's brooch, staid black pumps and a black crepe dress) which I wear to all funerals. ALL!! I had just gotten out of the shower and had hot rollers in my hair.

(We do not have to talk about it right now, but one day, you must gather round and listen as I wax poetic about my love for hot rollers; how many sets I have; how I have special travel sets and sets for rolling at home; how my favorite set stopped getting hot last year and they don't make them anymore, and it was like a death to me; how sometimes, I put a hot roller in Ivan's hair when I am getting us ready to make the front of his hair curl)

Anyway, I was completely be-hot rollered and my husband popped his head into the bathroom and said that he didn't think he had pink eye after all and was heading in to the funeral. So after a few nasty words, and the insinuation from me that maybe this could have been settled before hot rollers were involved and I HAD COMPLETELY MISSED SWIM, my husband went to the funeral and Ivan and I stayed at home and played in the yard.

While Ivan napped, I got in a Pure Barre session, which just felt killer today, and then Ivan and I headed in for a great afternoon at my friend Jamie's house, where Ivan swam and treaded water and was loathe to leave. At home Elliott and I traded Ivan like a baton, and I headed into swim. Workout as follows:

• 200 warmup
• 3 x 200 (kick/kick/drill)
• 10 x 150 on a three minute interval
• 900 pull

It was a hard workout. I have gotten used to going to morning swim, and it took some real doing to psyched to go. Glad I went!!

Watching a documentary about the health problems of Henry VIII.

Tuesday: Run, Bike and I am Pretty Much Healed Up and My Computer is Still at Mac Authority

This morning, I made the decision not to go to my track workout, based on the fact that I am coming out of a sickness and I have the Music City Triathlon this weekend. While I do hate missing a workout, I think I did the right thing. I popped up and ran 3.5 miles, and realized that we have definitely reached the time of year when there is really no other option than to run extremely early in order to outsmart the heatstroke. It is so humid and miserable, and I was completely soaked and dripping when I got in the house. When Ivan woke up and I picked him up out of bed, he said, "ooooh, mama sweaty". Which was correct.

I worked today and then came home to mope around the house without my computer. The techs at Mac Authority finally called me to let me know that they were planning to start working on my computer on Thursday. It is amazing how long and strange and isolated the day feels when you can't pop over and check you email every five minutes, or look up something that flitted across your mind. Also, my computer accident happened when I was right in the middle of a whole ebay saga; listing three pairs of shoes and a clutch for sale. I listed one pair of shoes and then the meltdown occurred. So frustrating.

This evening, I met my friend Kennette and we got in a 19.1 mile bike ride on Natchez Trace. I am hoping to bike on Thursday as well and continue implementing the bike into my routine.

I hit Yogurt World on the way home, and I overdosed on sprinkles for the first time ever.

Pic from our hut to hut hiking trip in Hawaii!!

Monday: Swim and Great Anguish and Woe

So this morning, I woke up, as if nothing were wrong, made a smoothie and headed out to swim. While the bloom of health is not yet apparent on my visage, I am confidently walking the road to recovery. When I looked in the mirror this morning, though, I had to admit that I still looked pretty sickly. My eyes are watery, red rimmed and slightly swollen, my face is pallid, and I bear the posture of the downtrodden.

Ivan did not go to swim with me, because he is currently having a love affair with a television show called Calliou. It is a strange cartoon about a boy named Calliou and narrarated by his grandmother. They all speak softly to each other and play nicely and Calliou seems to only have an inside voice. Anyway, I was running late and Ivan had breakfast on the couch while glued to Calliou.

At swim, I hopped in the water and it did not feel that a moment had passed. I felt great. I did some freestyle, some butterfly, a lot of kicking. I did not let myself keep up with my yardage or my intervals as I did not need to blow it out and spend the rest of the day suffering.

Now, a great great misfortune happened when I got home. I inadvertently pushed my thumb against my laptop screen, and I popped a pixel something something and the whole screen shattered into inky leaks. It gave me the same kind of feeling that you have when you have a stupid car wreck that is entirely your fault. It was like wadding up four 100 dollar bills and flushing them willy nilly down the toilet.

So, I spent the evening curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the Mac store. They will fix my computer, BUT like I said, I pretty much flushed a hefty chunk of my vacation fund down the toilet.

Anyway, track workout tomorrow. I am pretty psyched, BUT I am unprepared and recovering. Must cut self some speed slack.

Interesting fact that I learned from my cover to cover Vogue read this weekend: J. Crew has a newish brand called Madewell that sells a more casual and city-contemporary version of J. Crew style. It is sold from their website and from the Shopbop website. They have a pom pom scarf that I like.

Sunday: Day 8 of My Pink Eye Saga

Tomorrow, I am planning to quit using my blog as a marking post for my pink eye suffering. I am feeling pretty good, my eye is only slightly pink, supposedly I am not contagious, I plan to leave the house and resume normal activities tomorrow. Not a toe of me has stepped outside since Wednesday. I am filled with both cabin fever and trepidation. I want to leave, but will the world have changed?? I was unaware that in the year 2010, that it was possible to be sick for a full eight days. Apparently, this can still happen, so do not be cavalier with your hand washing, your bed linen changing or your toilet seat touching.

It is unfortunate, that at the age of 34, I am about to jump into the abyss of hardcore Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Washing my hands raw is something that I am about to count amongst my jobs. Ask me about my daily activities and I will reel off paperwork, childcare and washing my hands raw as easily as Julia Child might have said cooking. It goes without saying that I will invest in a number of spray products from Clorox and maybe take to boiling anything that touches the floor or the hands of the unwashed.

Poor Ivan's dog has been washed every day this week, and it does make me feel sort of guilty when he stands in front of the washer pointing at the big window as his doggie goes around and around in the hot water. BUT, do you know what it worse than guilt???? Viral Pink Eye!!!!!

Wish me luck tomorrow as I reenter society!

Saturday: Day 7 of my Pink Eye Saga

Friends, I just want you to know that in olden times, before there was penicillin, viral pink eye would have killed you. I was too sick to blog last night. I called my doctor at the breaking point, and he called me in some antibiotics and new eye drops which seemed to finally make a difference. Yesterday and last night, I laid around, burst into tears on the phone with my mom and watched A LIFETIME MOVIE. It was about spring break and trying to fit in and still be yourself, and it was so hackneyed and low, but there was no other mindless backdrop for my suffering.

Apparently, and I apologize for even getting into this, viral pink eye needs a certain type of eyedrop, which my son and husband had. I had an eye ointment that is better for bacterial pink eye and long story short it all turned into one big infection that needed antibiotics. (I actually typed a whole paper's worth of information about ocular and nasal cavities and how and where they are joined, various levels of sinus drainage, tonsil spots, and gargling with hot salt water. I then backspaced for about ten minutes all the while scolding myself about how I sounded like the awful invalid you get stuck talking to at a family reunion holding a paper plate of truly terrible food and hearing about cysts and coughs and revolting things that happen to one's feet.)

I know better, BUT when your life is no more interesting than your illness, which mine has not been, there are not many topics to choose from. Anyway, today I actually felt reasonably well and ate a full dinner of steak and asparagus. My husband went straight out and got me a huge yogurt from Yogurt World. I felt well enough to lay in bed and read an entire Vogue from cover to cover, except for one article that was rather creepy, though it is not for me should to judge the artistes at Vogue.

Thursday: Day 5 of My Pink Eye Saga

So today, I am still not feeling great, and this has overall felt like a day of complete debauchery. I have roamed around in my PJs, I have surfed the internet for, honestly, 90% of my day. I did send two work emails, and I spent a lot of time reading Team of Rivals. I am really liking the writing of Doris Kearns Goodwin. She is educated about her subject and seems to be a fair writer about each of her principals. Having been locked down at the house for this long, I am beginning to have the strange feeling that I know Abraham Lincoln better that I know anyone and his marital struggles are becoming personally meaningful to me.

I feel that I am walking a strange line of isolation, where the principals in my books are becoming close friends. I am very worried for Abraham Lincoln right now, and I know what happens. I know where this is heading.

Anyway, noting the course that this followed in my husband and son, I should be feeling better tomorrow. Tonight, however, I am going to take full advantage of my illness and insist that my husband go and get me a Yogurt World.

Wednesday: Day Four of My Pink Eye Saga

Today, because I know you are interested, my eye was not swollen shut when I woke up, but I just haven't felt right. I was feverish this morning, and it is just like an all over bad cold. When talking with my doctor this morning, he reiterated the 7 to 9 day forecast and and acted very sympathetic, though I am quite certain that he was looking at anyone who would make eye contact with him and rolling his eyes and tapping his foot, and covering up the receiver and whispering that "she still lets her son have a bottle". Having been spoiled by fabulous American healthcare my whole life, I tend to have an unrealistic expectation of what my healthcare team will do for me. Must house calls be a thing of the past? Can I not talk to my health care provider daily when I have an irritating and isolating illness?

I think I am making progress, but not fast enough. Today, I have sat about reading Team of Rivals pretty much all day. It is masterfully written, and has made me feel quite guilty about complaining for pretty much the past four days straight. Abraham Lincoln dealt with a lot more than pink eye, friends.

Anyway, whenever I have a fever, I always treat myself to to a Cherry Limeade from Sonic. I find it is very satisfying, and there is always a real cherry and a slice of lime at the bottom. Practically a salad!!!

Tuesday: Day Three of Pink Eye; Pure Barre, Bike Ride

So, I am into day three of my own personal pink eye saga, and I am into day who knows what of our family pink eye saga. Now, I learned some interesting things about my pink eye today, and since it is my primary interest at this point, I will relay the devastating news. We have viral pink eye, which means that you can treat the eye to try to keep it from getting worse, but the eye funk just has to run its course, which typically takes 7 to 9 days. Viral pink eye is the most contagious and usually comes with a fever and cold symptoms, which explains Ivan's fever.

For this reason, it was actually kind of rude of me to go to Bread and Company yesterday. I really just need to avoid people who do not already have the sickness. I had to cancel work today, and I had no choice but to eat a sad and boring lunch within the confines of my home. The good news is that, because it is viral, we should be immune to it after this bout clears up. The bad news is that I am not fully considered not contagious until Sunday-ish morning. This is the longest I have gone without swimming since I started swimming.

We all have serious cabin fever, and it seems like we are all just roaming around the house glaring at each other moodily. When I asked my husband if he wanted to watch The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo last night, he just made a guttural noise similar to Lurch on the Adams Family and slunk into his office and shut the door.

I find myself thinking longingly of things that I will do when I am well: When I am well, I am going to Yogurt World again. When I am well, I am going to Teavana. When I get well, I am going to have lunch with my mom. When I get well, I am going to go the grocery store and buy some avocados. I have not seen anyone but my family for three days, and they are currently a thin milk in terms of the nourishment of companionship.

Anyway, I did get in a Pure Barre workout, and I rode my bike while wearing a pair of monster sunglasses. We got in 16 miles and it was a great ride. SO, I guess that I have had to rearrange my workout schedule based on my affliction, but more biking is always good.

Monday: Day Two of Pink Eye: Run, Gilad, and Yoga

My eye looked worse today than it did yesterday. Just so puffy and pink and painful. You know, it is really only the upper right quadrant of my face that hurts, so I kind of had in my head that I could go to swim this morning. It would, however, be socially irresponsible to plunge my head into any public body of water while walking around with a contagious infection. No doubt about it.

SO, I stayed here, had cookies (gluten free chocolate oatmeal, not that that makes it any better) and tea for breakfast, administered medication to my eye and pitied myself. Long about midmorning, I pulled myself together, put on huge sunglasses, scalded and scrubbed my hands, and drove Ivan and I to Bread and Company to get myself a big salad. After lunch, I went for a run, still wearing HUGE sunglasses. At home, I got in a Gilad workout and some yoga. I made salmon burgers for dinner and made a huge salad to go along.

It seems that track workout for tomorrow is a no go. It just seems rude to show up with a contagious illness in a situation where I could possibly splash sweat all over someone.

In a day making turn of events, I figured out that Swedish movie of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, was available on Netflix on demand. Thilling!!! I am watching it now, and it is so Swedish. There just aren't many pretty people. It is so chilly looking. They actors have European teeth and no one has perfect skin or is aging like Courtney Cox. Overall, quite true to the book.

Sunday: I Too Have Fallen to Pink Eye

You know, I have to say that this pink eye business is not cool. Not cool at all. Last night, after my trek to Yogurt World, I started feeling like my eye was watering a bit much, and when I went to bed, it was indeed looking a bit pinky. I crawled into bed, hoped for the best and OF COURSE, woke up with my eye sealed shut with all sorts of grossness. It was quite swollen and once pried open, quite an angry shade of pink.

Now, I am particularly bothered by the fact that I went to the very crowded Yogurt World last night and touched several door handles and yogurt pulls. I touched the stack of yogurt cups. I had four different types of yogurt, so I pulled four different yogurt pulls. I got three toppings, so I touched three different topping scoopers. I touched the spoon bin. I touched the scale, the napkin bin, and the register girl when I gave her my debit card and my punch card. I breathed near babies and touched tables and chairs. Have I started an epidemic? Am I akin to Typhoid Mary or Mrs. O'Leary's Cow?

I was sort of determined to go swimming at the lake this morning. When I woke up, however, the thought of suctioning goggles to my infected eye was really unthinkable. Also, the thought I getting lake water in my infected eye shivered me timbers, and I stayed at home.

Overall, since we sort of realized that Ivan had pink eye on Monday or Tuesday, we have been stranded at the house. It is the worst. Ivan is bored, I am bored, my husband is bored. I was able to get a prescription and get started on the medication, but it is this gross ointment that I have to put under my eyelid, and I AM LOATHE TO TOUCH THE UNDERSIDE OF MY EYELID. I have to steel myself, before standing in front of the bathroom mirror and treating myself.

I intend to go to swim tomorrow, as 24 hours of medication supposedly make me unable to transmit. Though, I cannot help but feel a little shaky about this supposition, as it seems that I easily got pink eye from two people who had a full 24 hour dose of the medication.

You know, it is times like these, when I think I should not criticize a germ pit, as it may not be a far cry from my house.

The Girl Who Fixed the Umlaut: newyorker.com

The Girl Who Fixed the Umlaut: newyorker.com

Book Report: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson

So this was the last book in The Girl Who.... series about Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist, the strangely matched crime fighting/ mystery solving duo from Sweden. It was a very fast read, with many interesting twists and turns and I was quite sad when I read the last page. I had this odd sort of "I can't wait to read the next one" kind of feeling, and then, I remembered that there were no more of them, because of Stieg Larrson's untimely passing. This is a bummer and has left me no alternative but to begin reading Team of Rivals which is good and I am learning and loving the strength and intellect of Abraham Lincoln, but it lacks the page turning nature of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.

Anyway, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest begins with Lisbeth Salander being admitted to the hospital with a bullet in her head. She is then placed only a few rooms down the hall from her father, who is responsible for the bullet. It turns out that he is a spy and Mikael Blomkvist and Lisbeth Salander (once she recovers from brain surgery and Mikael has smuggled her palm computer into the hospital room) must work together to find out the particulars.

Their investigation leads them into the heart of the Swedish government, where there is clearly corruption involved. Once she recovers enough to go to trial, Lisbeth must also defend herself against her classification as a mentally disabled person, so that she can live free and have charge of her own affairs and money. With the help of her creepy internet friends, Mikael Blomkvist, Mikael's sister (who is pulled in as Lisbeth's lawyer), and a whole host of police officers fighting for right, Lisbeth, of course, triumphs.

These books have been undeniably fascinating, but I have a few criticisms. For one, there were SO MANY new characters that I was constantly forgetting who they were and why they were there. I just couldn't bring myself to make a notebook page of characters so that I could keep everyone straight. It is a novel, for the love of Mike; a summer read!!!!

Another issue, is that I just can't get into the whole publishing world aspect of the novels that Larrson seems to push. The ups and downs of editors, people leaving newspapers to work for other newspapers, sideline plots about drama of higher-ups at newspapers. Honestly, there was a whole side plot about overpriced toilets that were made in Thailand or some such, that I only wanted to stop.

Also, I began to find the whole weird relationship between Mikael Blomkvist and Erica Berger a little too something; maybe too Swedish, too unbelievable, or just too unnecessary. They have this 25 year relationship, where they have ruined each other's relationships, prevented each other from moving on, and everyone is supposed to be comfortable with the fact that they have this magnetic relationship that keeps drawing them together, even though Erica is married to someone else and Mikael tries to date other people, but his relationships are generally ruined by his relationship with Berger. It was beginning to wear on me. Larrson should have wrapped that aspect of the trilogy in the first novel. OR, maybe I am not Swedish enough and that aspect of the the culture is lost on me, Betsy Sloan, quite possibly least Swedish person I know.

Finally, I thought that this Norah Ephron article in The New Yorker was hilarious, because is also made the very good point that Lisbeth Salander is almost needlessly terse and irritable all the time. Ehpron also makes the very good point THAT whenever Stieg Larrson is writing about street names or cities or buildings, we have no idea what he is talking about because those names are so incredibly foreign.

Saturday: Bike Ride and Run

This morning, since I was in town and at the house this weekend, I was able to meet Jill Mongene and bike for about 30 miles. Now, the fact that I left my house to do anything other than run on a Saturday morning, is beyond my personal expectations. I was ready and out the door, I took a cue sheet (which I have never done before). A cue sheet is a list of turn by turn directions that you take with you in case you get dropped by the pack (which I always do) and then don't know where you are (which is also an issue). Since I was riding with a new group today, I felt that the cue sheet was super important since there was a good chance that I could get lost in the land of meth labs and never get home.

Heading to bed. I am starting to have a bad feeling about my eye. Today's bike route is published above.

Friday: Chateau Revenge

You know, I think as a parent you ride a hard line. For instance, this weekend, I had plans to go to Birmingham for the Christening of my nephew, Rye, and if those plans fell through I had plans to go see THE SILVER SEAS, which is just one of my favorite bands. Their CD release party is tonight, and I have listened their first CD into the ground. I have been listening to the new CD LIKE MAD, and I could totally see myself there in my platform espadrilles and a mini-skirt, but Ivan has the pink eye and when I got in last night he was whimpering feverishly in bed, and the guilt was like a steel-toed boot stamping my heart to a pulp.

I knew I wasn't going to Birmingham. I knew that with young Sloan being one day out from a fever, we weren't putting him in the car. Ultimately, I needed to be at home. I guess it is just what happens.

So, its Friday night and here I sit watching Ivan sleep peacefully on the monitor. I am wearing ratty jeans and my dansko clogs and a wife beater and drinking a tall glass of water and listening to Chateau Revenge and riding the hard line that you ride as a parent. I need to be here, and here I am, but I had cool intentions. Anyway, Chateau Revenge seemed like an apt title for my blog, since I wanted to go see the band tonight AND I am stranded at my chateau. There is not really any revenge to be had for such a helpless situation, but revenge is a word that conveys some aspect of my frustration. I may glare at the cat (THE BEAST) later, just to make myself feel better.

Of course, this morning, my husband woke up with pink eye and no doubt the bearer of illness will visit me in the night and leave me with a crusty pink eye. It will stop me from wearing eyeliner, mascara or concealer. It can only be imagined that I will have to discard all cosmetic products that have been anywhere near my eyes. It is written in the cards, a tightly sealed fate of conjunctivitis and further confinement to my home, which has never seemed smaller that it is now. Sigh.

I did run this morning and got in a Pure Barre session in the afternoon.

Pics of my favorite cousins and a great pic of Ivan blowing the tiny parforce horn that hung on my grandma's kitchen wall as long as I can remember. She never let me blow it and the reason for this is that it sounds exactly like the horrible horn that the Orcs would blow in the The Lord of the Rings. Ivan blew it multiple times this morning to wake his dad, and I felt sorry for all of us.

Thursday: Adidas miCoach Pacer

My day today is kind of a sick child train wreck, and it is so not even worth discussing. For this reason, I will tell you all about some interesting information that I learned on the Fourth of July. Now, last year, I met Mike Gugat at a party, and he was then working for Mizuno and he sent me a pair of Mizuno shoes. The shoes were somewhat life changing as I had been running in rather heavy Saucony's with all sorts of added insoles and arch supports, and my feet sounded sort of funny when they hit the pavement. (I would call the sound a slap/ drag) The Mizuno's were lighter, and I didn't need any arch support, and I was a convert. I ran the Boston marathon in them, and I feel that I am a Mizuno girl.

SO, on the Fourth of July, we were invited to a party with the same Mike Gugat and he is now working for Adidas. Now, Mike Gugat himself, is a fascinating individual: charismatic, diplomatic, tall, knowledgable - all of the things that make you want to listen. Anyway, he told me all about a new technology which Adidas is introducing called the miCoach. The miCoach works through any ipod, and it corresponds with a foot sensor, heart rate monitor, and pacer sensor to tell you the paces you need to be hitting to make your goals. You can program it to tell you at any mile mark or meter mark if you are on pace or too fast or too slow.

Now, NO DOUBT, the miCoach would change my life during a track workout. I could set it to tell me if I was on pace every 200 meters. Currently Tracy the Great is my miCoach, but what if I had something in my head that told me to slow down or speed up at every 200 meter evaluation? What if I had had that same technology while I was training for Boston? What if I had programmed that I wanted a 3:20 marathon and the watch told me every couple of minutes whether I needed to pick it up or drop it down.

When I was Boston training, the first several months I struggled mightily with starting out too fast and then being forced to drop down to a shameful pace to finish the run. This was because I tried to hang with the 3:15 runners for the first several miles, before crashing burning and maybe calling my mom on the way home a couple of time and crying a bit. Marathon training was sad times, and I needed a pace car. Is the miCoach that pace car?

I ran Boston successfully this year, by receiving great coaching from Richard Baker. He made me back my times off, and he told me how to start out Boston. I would have had to walk Boston without Richard Baker, but with a miCoach, I could have been on it the whole time. I could have run each mile at Boston 10 seconds faster and finished closer to my long term goal.

I really think a miCoach would make me more successful, but is the miCoach going to be that technology that makes me dependent on technology. My car GPS has robbed me of the knowledge of which way is east and which way is west. I really don't know how to get anywhere, I rely completely on technology. I feel that I would never learn true pacing with the miCoach. BUT, the bottom line is that I am 34 years old, I haven't learned pacing yet, and if I want a faster marathon while I am still at an age to be competitive, the miCoach may be my only option.

I see a miCoach in my future, but I have questions. Is a miCoach race legal? Can I wear it at Boston. You know what, I bet I can. Adidas is the cash cow at Boston and I bet they won't stop anyone from using their products. It may not be for purists, but I bet it works. IN FACT, I think I saw a lot of people running at Boston wearing signs that said "ask me about miCoach". If you can do it at Boston, that is really all that matters. Boston is really the only marathon I want to run. Oooh, I take that back: Paris and London, but just for the trips. Boston is the only place I want to run well.

Pic is of Kathleen Johnson beating me at the Tom King because I started out at sub 7:00 minute miles and fell apart at the end. The miCoach would have stopped me!!

Wednesday: Pure Barre, Run, Bike and Pink Eyevan

So, Pink Eyevan has put a real kink in both of our schedules. Because Ivan started out the day with a fever plus a most unattractive eye situation, we could not go to swim OR ANYWHERE. ANYWHERE AT ALL. I am many things, but I am not the type to tote about a sickly child spreading the funk all over the territory. Ivan was both sickly and bored. He was feverish, but he wanted to run around, then he wanted to cry, then he wanted milk, then he wanted juice. He refused to take his baby generic Tylenol, and then, inexplicably, he wanted to take it and take it he did, he consistently refused and fought, AS IF FOR HIS LIFE, against his eye drops. So it has been that kind of day. I have never looked so forward to nap time as I looked forward to today's nap time, and that seems to be the only pleasant part of two year old sickness: the long nap.

No swim today, because of the Pink Eye situation, so I had to hang out at the house and I was hoping for evening swim to work out. I got in a Pure Barre DVD workout, and I folded laundry like a madman. I did a bit of needlepointing and finished watching This Emotional Life.

This Emotional Life is a three part documentary that I have been chipping away at since last week. It is all about how prisoners of war, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder suffers, and cancer survivors define happiness. It explored Asbergers and depression, rage disorders and Reactive Attachment Disorders. It was simply fascinating, and I felt that I learned a lot. John McEnroe talked about his anger, Chevy Chase spoke openly about feeling friendless, and people with every type of life difficulty and marital strife and loss of a loved one spoke about the way they conquered and survived. I loved it and you must put it on your netflix cue and take notes while you watch it. It enriched my life.

Now, my husband headed out to bike in the afternoon and at the eleventh hour, I got an invitation to bike with my friend Kennette on the trace. I accepted, because my bike situation is bleak, and I MUST START CARVING TIME FROM MY SCHEDULE TO BIKE. I shuffled Ivan into the jog stroller and sprinted a quick three miles before trading off with my husband and heading off to meet Kennette. We road as hard as we could for an hour, and I felt really pleased about the whole thing. It seemed that I had taken the bull by the horns and forced a ride into my schedule. Because I reward myself with food, I stopped at Yogurt World on the way home and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

So a great day, and I will have you know that I made pistachio encrusted chicken tenders for dinner with brussel sprouts and asparagus. It was delicious and so Donna Reed - dinner and laundry. Now, maybe a shower didn't happen and maybe, just maybe I wore my PJs all day, but I had all the other parts right and you can only have so many accomplishments in one day.

Tuesday: Track Workout, Yoga, Gilad,and the Dastardly Pink Eye

This morning, I was actually up before my alarm went off. I just popped out of bed like it was something that I wanted to do. I microwaved some oatmeal, and started the coffee and had a really nice drive to the track. Today's workout felt very manageable, and super-Tracy really kept me on pace. Workout as follows:

• Mile Warm-up
• 200 race pace/ 200 jog
• 200 race pace/ 200 jog
• 3 sets of (800 at race pace/ 200 jog/ 200 fast pace/ 800 jog)
• Mile cool down

I think I enjoyed today's workout because I was rested, it was slightly cooler, and I loved that 800 jog.

I worked today and then came home to an uber healthy lunch of salmon and spinach, before putting Ivan down for the longest nap of his sleeping career. He slept for 3.5 hours, AND during this time, I, Betsy Sloan, wasted time on the internet, did yoga, Gilad, laundry, cleaning, all the ironing in the house for which I would like some sort of prize, and I sat outside and read for 15 minutes. It was heavenly and I would like to have a private talk with young Sloan where I convince him to take a 3.5 hour nap every day. Surely, when he understands my point of view, he will sleep for longer periods of time.

Anyway, when Ivan woke up, I was forced to admit to myself that Ivan's eye was dangerously pink, and he was flushed. We dashed off for a 4:00 PM appointment at the Dr.'s office, and we waited until 5:00 to see the doctor. I mean is this Europe? For the love of Mike, there is no reason for that type of waiting. Ivan was a jewel however, and by the time we left at 5:30 PM it was confirmed that Ivan did indeed have the dreaded and wildly contagious Pink Eye.

At 5:30 PM, Ivan is usually eating dinner, so he was hungry and I was hungry. I stopped at Sonic and got Ivan a grilled cheese and fries, which he ate. I myself meant to have a healthy dinner of pistachio chicken and asparagus and brussell sprouts, but what really happened is that I finished Ivan's dinner and then went to Yogurt World. It's just what I do. Better luck to my eating habits tomorrow.

Can't go to swim tomorrow, because I can't truck my Pink Eye child to the gym nursery. I am going to night swim, but I might run early.

Off to needlepoint!!!!

Monday: Holiday Workout and Needlepoint Review

Holidays are hard for several reasons: They get me out of my routine, I sleep late, it's too hot to do the full outdoor component of the workout, and then I don't accomplish as much as I had intended. I really need 6AM accountability, and holiday weekends are just not conducive to anyone holding me accountable to a 6AM workout schedule. It's not that big of a deal, BUT I like my Monday swim and I kind of missed it today.

Holidays are great for several reasons also: I slept late, I made eggs and sausage and a monster fruit salad with coffee and tea, which I ate at my leisure while I perused the internet and watched a bit of the Today show. I took a nap. I watched ridiculous television while I worked out the kinks in my needlepoint project. I went for a run without my watch, just ran for the fun of it. I rode my bike for a negligible amount of time. Other than my work out, I didn't leave the house. I never got in my car. We ordered take out for dinner, and it was really a perfect day.

Anyway, about my needlepointing: Needlepoint is a sure thing. With my knitting, I have a one in four project success rate. Knitting projects do not always turn out well, based on gauge, weird patterns, and the fact that everyone knits a little tighter or looser means that not every project turns out looking like the fabulous picture of the project you selected. My last knitting project was a great tragedy that has left me with no choice but to distance myself a bit from the craft.

Sewing is the same way. Patterns are notoriously difficult to follow, my machine is not great, and there are MANY variables that mean that your project may never turn out correctly.

Needlepoint, however, is a sure thing. I think it is a sure thing, because, as a general rule, the canvas is uniform, and you are following a pattern stamped on a canvas, and your stitches are always the same, sometime they are variations, but basically the same.

I currently have three of my grandmother's unfinished needlepoints, which I am going to finish. They are quick and thoughtless and easy to do while I fritter away time in front of the television. Now, my grandmother used penelope canvasses, which are slightly different from the starched stiff canvasses that are used today. They are looser and bendable and lend themselves to some shifting about of stitches and holes. I had to run by the local needlepoint establishment (Nashville Needleworks), and get a bit of help in terms of which holes to use, since it was my first time with a penelope canvas, but now I know.

Anyway, pics of my past needlepoint projects, and my current one, the stocking!! Track workout tomorrow at 6AM.

Sunday: The Fourth of July; A Day Off

So last night, Ivan slept with us again. It was better sleep all around, but I MUCH prefer I baby in his own bed. So, tonight we will be back to our usual sleep situation, and I am pretty pleased.

I had breakfast with my sister and her husband, and then lunch with my parents, before getting ready to go to a grown up party at our neighbors' house. Now, I am always so excited to go to a grown up party, but I have only had one successful grown up party since Ivan was born. Not that my deep and grating lack of sophistication is his fault, it just seems that I have less time to research my venues and less time to make sure that my whole wardrobe situation is suited to the event. Anyway, I was pretty sure that I today would be successful. I had a super cute outfit, and I made a minted fruit salad, so I felt like I was on it.

However, as soon as we got there, I understood that it was a pool party and not a stand around party, so I had to send my husband off for my bathing suit. I wore make up, when maybe that wasn't necessary and then to cap off the misery, one of my fake toenails came off while we were standing around the pool. It was tragic. Maybe I am not made for grown up parties. Maybe real grown ups get real pedicures and don't have to send their husbands for their bathing suits.

It is hard not to be cool.