Happy St Patrick’s Day

I’m in a bit of a mood, and I’m just not going to go much into the horrific details of today’s St Patrick’s Day race.  Suffice it to say that I am not good at learning lessons or learning from my mistakes, and I continually forget that I cannot do deadlifts in a workout and then run two days later.  I can’t, I just can’t.  My hamstrings just won’t cooperate.  I tried.  I ran as much as I could without wanting to die, but the up hills were the worst.

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A promising start.  I’d been worried about my ability to run since the day before when my hamstrings started being sore.  I foam rolled, I stretched, I took copious amounts of Advil (well, that’s just par for the course, unrelated.). I woke up, ready to go, and had a wonderful outfit picked out—that is some serious green happening.

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It was pretty foggy.  And, I told Jen if she wanted to make that face for THE BLOG then that was her right.  I felt that Steve and Jen failed at being remotely festive.  I’m thinking of uninviting them to the 80’s 5k if that’s the best that can do.  A themed race has two parts:  one is running, the other is dressing awesome.  I’m pretty disappointed in my friends on part 2.  They kicked my butt on part 1, but like I said, two parts.  I expect more in the future from everybody.

Why did Steve have a different colored tag?  We’re assuming somebody made a mistake.  While he is an excellent runner in his own right, he is probably not fast enough to be considered an elite runner.  The orange tags were for the people who were starting in the very front and most likely to win.  Steve decided to start back with the common folk anyway.

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The Non-competitive start.  And the Old Courthouse.  It was really foggy!

Anyway, the race sucked.  I was in so much pain, at one point I considered giving up and finding the short way home.  That seemed really lame though, so I figured I’d finish.  58:34.  I felt like I walked the whole damn race.  Boo.

After the race I was super grumpy and nearly had a meltdown at Rue Lafayette (our first idea for brunch)—I had some trouble figuring out what was happening on the menu and was just really thirsty and wanted eggs.  Luckily I have nice friends and then we made our way to Uncle Bill’s.  I whined the whole way there too, and then we came up with the ever so most brilliant idea that maybe I should be doing my deadlifts earlier in the week, so they stop interfering with my runs.  I wrote Mike a note to that effect in my food diary (right next to the bacon, sausage, one pancake and eggs entry) so I won’t be complaining again.  See!  I can learn!

(I just searched my blog for hamstrings and found way too many posts with me complaining how I couldn’t run because of my sore hamstrings, including the one where I had a mini breakdown and ended up yelling at Mike later for laughing at me for complaining. Oops.  What’s especially funny is that that is the day I referenced in my previous post bragging about how awesome my recent deadlifts were… )

Okay, I’m back to practicing.  Or not, actually.  I need to watch it, I’ve already put in a whole hour today and I’m not feeling very pain-free.

Must be my March/April depression time…hmmm…just like last year.  What is the common thread??

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” –J.R.R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)

(link goes to a blog post I wrote about a year ago, somehow it feels promising and relevant right now, minus the bits about wedding planning.)

Acceptance

Okay, so my morning post was a WEE bit overdramatic.  Couple that with reading an awful story on NPR about a photographer who was taking pictures of a little bunny and ended up CRUSHING the bunny by accident (I am not linking to the story, and I had to block it from my newsfeed because I kept crying)…and I was a bit of a drama queen. 

My wrist hurting is more than a first world problem, since it continues to plague me throughout my career.  That being said, I had the signs leading up to it all week. I am taking today off, and as I tell my students, if for some reason you can’t practice, LISTEN.  I’ll be doing that.

It’s just that I woke up early to practice all morning and then my schedule was off.  Those who know me well know I like having my schedule set, I like knowing what’s going to happen and where I’m going to be, who I’m going to see, that sort of thing.  Sometimes I get a little bit anal about that sort of thing, and I don’t adapt well to change.  Once change happens, I have a mini freak out, and then I am usually okay.  (Well, as long as large groups aren’t involved.  The older I’ve gotten, the more I just cannot handle large groups.) 

But I’m very resilient, I am okay NOT practicing today, really. At least I’ve gotten some good practice in this week, right?

See, aren’t I doing well?  Aren’t we all proud of me? 

Today’s workout was heavy on the deadlifts.  I was awesome and deadlifted an amount that my trainer reminded me, just a few months ago, made me cry and say "I can’t, I just can’t."  I took that to me I was getting stronger, he took it to mean that sometimes I tell myself I can’t do things that I actually can.  Agree to disagree.

Frustration

 

Like, not practicing the violin regularly, then practicing again regularly, and I suppose not building to that (though I feel I have), and invariably your damn right shoulder starts tingling, and you sort of stretch it out, but not really, because you are lousy at remembering to stretch.  And then a couple days later your right wrist hurts.  Not tingling, but the sort of aching, mildly nauseating pains as you attempt to play spiccato.  And you feel like you really are doing a lot of things right.  You’re standing up straight when you play, you’re working out so your arm and shoulder muscles are strong, your back could not be stronger than it is.  Everything should be going in your favor.

And of course it’s not.  Because your right wrist is always going to conspire against you and hold you back.  And you don’t know what to do, other than cry (a little, only a little bit), step away from the violin, and just try to relax.  Always it’s the right wrist, ever since you first starting having problems, at the age of 12.

This of course the day after you thought, damn, I just might be in the best shape of my life.

That’s what you get for being proud.

Insanity:  expecting that I can play the violin at some sort of high level without my body conspiring against me. 

Only a little bit of crying, right?  That’s okay, isn’t it? 

Sprinter

No, that’s not me saying I’m a fast runner.  In fact, my trainer suggested yesterday that I might be faster in races if I walked—this is after I admitted that the run on Sunday only took us 5 to 10 minutes longer than usual.  I could tell he was really holding back the laughter.  Or perhaps laughed out loud.  I don’t know, I always forget stuff when I’m exercising.  I thought perhaps this weekend I’ll just walk the St. Patrick’s Day Race holding a bunch of green beers rather than run it…probably get a PR.

One of my students came in yesterday and said they were trying to figure out what to call this really warm season that is still winter.  She and her friends were puzzling between Sprinter and Wring.  I like them both!  (It’s like Brunch, why didn’t Lunfest get the prize instead?)

In other news, it’s been unseasonably warm here.  Everybody is freaking out that the summer will be boiling.  I went shopping yesterday for new spring/summer clothes. 

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It’s the classic blogger pose of self-portrait in a changing room.  BUT…what does that dress remind you of?  I couldn’t resist, especially for the price. (Under $25)

If you guessed:

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The bridesmaid dress from my wedding, well you win the prize!

Here’s the prize:

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I’ll be shipping out the cats in boxes later this week. 

Prokofiev (and lots of asides)

I am having a wonderful time working on Prokofiev’s Sonata for Solo Violin and the Duo (for two violins)—just one movement of each, but still.  WHY don’t I play more Prokofiev??

My sister Leslie and I performed the Duo on her second Master of Music recital back in…2004?  I’m too tired to think about it, but I got this picture from 2004 on my computer.

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And this one, close up on pores and eyebrows (but I remember thinking it was a fabulous picture at the time).

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Yes, friends, that is in the hallowed halls of CIM.  Where else are there blue/green brick walls??

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I evidently wanted my features more in the middle of my face.

Anyway, Leslie played some other stuff on her recital too, but the highlight was (obviously) the Duo for Two Violins.  We’ve decided to reprise the second movement for our encore in April after the concerto performance (in South Carolina, at Presbyterian College). 

The other important thing about that time was that it was right around the time that the heat broke in our apartment.  Little did we know this would lead to a three month long battle with our landlord, moving to a new place, breaking our lease, suing, and ultimately them settling.  Awesome.  I remember mainly being cold and angry, and feeling helpless.  I hate feeling helpless. (Stating the obvious, of course, because who does?)  Our new place was nicer anyway, but we only lived there a few months, and then Leslie went to Phoenix.  So, the Prokofiev (in a really contrived, stretched out way) represents our last bit of living together before we branched out on our own.  The end of childhood and the beginning of adulthood.  (Now I’m just making stuff up.)

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Another picture on my computer in the "2004" folder.  Yes, that’s the fatness ("Oistrakh"), and her old friend "Heifetz" who is no longer with us.  (It’s the sad.  She was my first real pet, and was wonderful.)

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Rarely did they sit this close.  Must have been cold—I still have that cow pillow and the blankets!  Not the couch, ha! 

In a nutshell, I really love Prokofiev.  The D Major Concerto no. 1 is perhaps my favorite violin concerto (I say, perhaps, please don’t make me choose), Symphony no. 5 (two words, midget porn), Lieutenant Kije (TROIKA!), and more…

That said, I’m not sure how I feel about the SLSO’s latest marketing campaign for Prokofiev’s Scythian Suite (which I do not know.)  I know they are trying to be funny (well, I presume)…but…well, check it out yourself if you like. (Oh, you see what I did there??)

I probably won’t attend, I’ll be resting up to kick butt in the Go! St Louis Half Marathon the next day.  I’d listen on the radio, but I imagine it would blow my speakers out.  (haha).