You, sir, are my brick wall

So yesterday I was swimming along happily in my beautiful new pool.  A cold front had come through earlier in the day and my arms were cold but the water was perfect.

Swimming is so therapeutic for me.  I just one-two-three-breathe myself into a sort of hypnosis.

And then, a fastie came into the lane next to me.

Do you want to know what the equivalent of a headwind in the pool is?

The fastie next to me, doing the 'fly, when he was coming towards me.

Brick. Wall.

It wasn't really that bad, though.  I mean I'm not upset about it.  It is good tri practice, swimming with people around, making waves, making brick walls... everything is good practice.

But I was sort of waxing poetic about biking and swimming and brick walls and losing count of my laps and I ended up trying to make a haiku about brick wall dude and do you know what?  Haiku is to swimming and breathing as Sudoku is to my job.  Apparently I can't do them at the same time. 

At. All.

So now we know that too.

The Sudoku Lobe

I made an odd realization yesterday.

I work in a very detail oriented job.  Most people don't seem to understand what I do, and this isn't what I do, but I think a computer programmer (coder) would be the closest approximation.  Very detailed.  Miss a tiny thing and must go back and fix it.  That sort of thing.

I have a Sudoku app on my phone, and about halfway into my job break, I started playing again.  For no apparent reason.  But I really started playing.  Playing for speed.  Playing to learn to play better.  Devoting real time to it each day.  I think there was a part of me that also felt like I was keeping myself mentally fresh.

What I realized yesterday is that I stopped, almost as soon as I started working again.  I tried a few times, but didn't seem to be able to hold my focus.

A few months back I went to hear one of my favorite authors, Brandon Sanderson, speak when he came to town.  And one of the things he said was that he wasn't able to write when he was working a certain kind of day job - I think he actually said computer programming.  And the only thing he could figure was that it used the same part of the brain as the writing.

I think that is what this is.  I think when I am doing this sort of job, it is using the same part of my brain as Sudoku uses.  The logical part that loves putting everything into nice orderly rows.  That part is used up (completely) every day.  Therefore, no more Sudoku for me.

Weird, right?

(I guess I need to find some sort of game app that doesn't use my work brain.  No idea what that would be though!)

Looking Back

Something prompted me to look back at my old blog, the one I had before this.  I haven't looked at it in, well, years, I think.

I started blogging over there in 2002, and moved here in 2007.  The feel over there is very different.  I began blogging in the midst of a depression, and looking back, trying to remember - I think I just really used that blog to externalize the feelings that were too big for me.  Some fun and easy stuff, some rants, some deep thoughts.  I didn't have a purpose like I originally did (and still do to an extent) here.  Or on my Bell's Palsy blog, where I really had a definite purpose.  I treated it just like a straight up journal, largely unfiltered, just writing.

I miss introspective, deep thoughts Amber (but not depressed Amber).  I haven't seen that girl in a long time.  I think I'd like to work on getting that aspect of my brain back.  

But what struck me when I went back and looked at it was how *similar* I am.  I mean, obviously I was that girl, and she is a part of who I am today, but some of the thoughts and feelings I've been having lately I found EXACTLY mirrored over there, 10 years in my past.

This one particularly struck me:

"There are times in my life that I come into disharmony within myself and everything seems wrong. I must remember that no one can take the joy in my life from me, except for me. Allowing my worry, my fear, my own inadequacies to leach the life from me is no way to live. Here I resolve, as I have in the past, and certainly will again in the future, to enjoy what I have, live in the now, and banish worry from my mind and my heart, because it is not me."

 

I need to tattoo that on my arm or something.

Giving Thanks

I am grateful for:

My Kid, because she is the best thing I'll ever do.

My husband.

My parents.

My family.

Old friends and new ones.

Judgment and lack of judgment.

My job, which I usually love.

Running, because it helps keep me healthy and sane.

Reading, because it allows me to escape.

This year, in which I rediscovered myself.

The Universe, for being so big and beautiful.

Haiku Run

Stomach empty, clinch.
Noodle legs running, step, flinch.
Progress, inch by inch.

Also:
Stomach, legs in pain.
From the sky, gentle cool rain.
Morning run for gain.

And finally:
Raindrops on glasses,
Starbursts fog forming can't see.
Should have worn contacts.

(Rough run this morning. Slow to leave the house, upset tummy, so I only had an hour. It was humid and warm. 8 on the schedule, but I only got 5.75 in as 9/1s. Rained almost from the beginning, starting as gentle misting and steadily increasing through the hour. I may try to run Z over to my mom's to get the last 2 in later.)

Way OT - 1/3 Life Crisis?

Warning - this one is really random, even for me.  I'm not really having a life crisis.  It is just that I had the weirdest realization that I'm getting older the other day.  Here's the story.

So I'm in a meeting at work with the *only* attractive man that we have on the whole staff.  I'm serious on that one.  There aren't a lot of guys that work in the library, and of those that do, well, B, when you left, it got pretty bare for boys to look at.  (I'm married, not dead.  And I've already talked to P about this, so don't anyone feel sorry for him. :-))  So anyways, the only attractive man on staff is making this presentation in this meeting and he tells a personal story that starts out like this: "I've been married to my wife for 21 years and we've been a couple for 26...."  And it just SLAMMED into me: goodNESS, I think this guy is cute and I was FIVE YEARS OLD when he got together with his wife.  Ewwwww.....  But then I started running numbers in my head and realized if they were highschool sweethearts or something, that only necessarily makes him in his early 40's (even though I'd really guess he is a bit older than that).  Which sounds old to me, even though I intellectually realize it isn't old in practice.  It just sounds too old for someone that I think is attractive.  But I do think he's attractive.  Which then made me feel old.  (I realize this makes very little sense.)

So then I started thinking.  The last guy I dated before P was 8 years older than me - I guess that makes him turning 40 this year.  Wow.

And then I started thinking about my laminated list and wondering how old those guys were.  (Knowing already that they are all older than me and that this was going to be an exercise in digging the hole deeper.) 
1.  Daniel Craig (born 1968, according to imdb, making him...44)
2.  Hugh Jackman (also 44)
3.  Kevin McKidd (39)
I've actually got 2 open slots on my list - wouldn't want to get into an Isabella Rossalini situation!

And also, thank you Kevin McKidd for being hot and not 40 yet!!!!

But I think the reason this is so odd to me is that if you had looked at my list 10 years ago, most of the guys on it would have been about my age... I think.  Or at least close to it.  And I started bugging P about his list and it seems to me that most of the women on his list are about our age.  Except Jennifer Anniston.  But let's face it, if I was into girls, she'd totally be on my list, too.

Actually, if you went farther back, I guess when I was in my early teens, most of the guys would have been way older.  Brad Pitt, for example, back in the day, and he's even older than the 3 on the list now!  Maybe we do some sort of weird circular thing... you know, you're a teen and the sexy guys are the slightly older ones - 20's.  But as you approach and hit your 20's, your taste doesn't really change, so the cute guys are about the same age as you (Heath Ledger is my example on that one).  Then as you get nearer to your 30's, that teen look loses its appeal and suddenly you like guys who look more...like men?  And it seems like that makes them necessarily older than you again.  All of that to say that I've realized that I've truly moved into a new phase of life.  I mean, intellectually I knew I had.  I'm someone's mom now, and all that.  But my actual *tastes* changed.  That's real subconscious proof.  And that realization was... arresting.

Luckily I still think my husband is hot. ;-)

Because I Can't Resist the Meme

A. Age: 30.
B. Bed size: Queen.
C. Chore you hate: Taking out the trash.  Scrubbing toilets.  That's why I made those Preston's chores!  (And why the toilets are filthy and the trash accumulates on top of and all around the trash cans, but I digress.)
D. Dogs: are very sweet.  I wish we could have one!
E. Essential start to your day: Bolthouse Farms Perfectly Protein Mocha Cappuccino.
F. Favorite color: Blue.
G. Gold or silver: Gold.  I used to be a silver gal until my grandmother passed away and I got one of her rings, which was gold.  I've never liked to mix my metals, so ever since then, gold.
H. Height: 5’5.
I. Instruments you play: Hmm... none really any more, but I've dabbled in piano, violin, clarinet, and drums over the years.
J. Job title: Librarian.
K. Kids: Yes.  Well, one, at least.
L. Live: H-town!
M. Mom’s name: Used to be "Mom", now is "Gramma".
N. Nicknames: Berzle.
O. Overnight hospital stays: Two.  One when I had my baby, and one when she tried to kill me.
P. Pet peeve: Misspelling.  (Not typos, which I frequently make.  Just flat out ignorant or lazy misspelling.)
Q. Quote from a movie: "We've have one, yes, what about second breakfast?" --LOTR-FOR
R. Right or left handed: Dextra.
S. Siblings: Two halfsies.
T. Time you wake up: 4, which is better than 3:30!!
U. Underwear: Yes.
V. Vegetables you dislike: Asparagus, mushrooms (do mushrooms count as veggies? is there a category for fungi?).
W. What makes you run late: My child.  My husband.  The petaQ in front of me going 60 in the fast lane.
X. X-Rays you’ve had: Wrist, teeth, knee.
Y. Yummy food you make: Pineapple pecan cake, Blueberry oatmeal muffins, Roast and mashed potatoes.
Z. Zoo- favorite animal: Monkey, but it makes me sad to see them in a zoo.

I'm Naked!!

Not like that. :-Þ  I've forgotten my phone today, sheesh!

But I really miss the goober.  Not only is it my phone, so it makes me feel safe on the long commute in case of trouble, but it is also my mobile toy, keeping me occupied during breaks and lunch and while I wait for people to show up to meetings, and it is my lifeline, providing a contact number for daycare in case something happens with the Z.

But daycare has other numbers.  And I work in a building FILLED with books - I should be able to find some way to occupy my brain at lunch today!

In the meantime, I'll just get back to researching wagons to get the Z for her birthday, and be extra careful not to forget my phone tomorrow.

What's in Your Purse?

So I saw this series of posts, and loved it!  I think it appeals to the voyeur in us all.  And I think it is an interesting argument: do the contents of your purse say anything about who you are as a person?

So, without further ado, my purse:



Obtained at Kemo's going away Diva party from a 50 earringed hippy chick with an awesome amber necklace.  Still smells faintly of sunscreen.  "Battled" my buddy Liz to win the purse, primary weapon was my specialty, guilt.  I love this purse for the ginormous size (I used to carry small bags pre-baby.  Finding that larger is better post baby, since I can toss diapers and wipes in the purse and go.), and its bright colors.  It goes with anything just because of the sheer forwardness of it.  And its personality goes well as an accent to my normally otherwise subdued dress.  This is the perfect summer purse for me right now.

And the contents:



Bottle of water, a must for the breastfeeding mama.
Book, because I'm reading again!! (The first book in this series actually rode to the hospital in my bag when I had Z.  It moved over to my purse and rode around for 8 months before I finally got to it.  Now I can't put the series down.)
$20 that Preston gave me the other day and I was too lazy to put in my wallet.
Wallet that Chris French gave me in junior high.  It rode around in my back pocket for years (like a boy), and still does take a ride there occasionally, where it fits perfectly.
iPhone, don't leave home without it!
Roll of tape that I used to tape my toll-tag onto my mom's windshield when I borrowed her car 2 weeks ago.
Brush, for the long crazy hair.
Cover-up, in case I want to appear not like a zitty teenager if I get called into a meeting with The Big Boss.
Chapstick, my favorite flavor.
Business card holder purchased at the National Ornamental Metal Museum on our Chicago 2008 road trip.
Sunscreen purchased on our London 2009 trip - never know when its going to come in handy!
Benadryl cream because I'm allergic to mosquito bites beyond what is normal.  They swell up to huge insanely itchy welts.
Hand sanitizer because I have a Kid now.
Work badge, because the only way I won't forget it is to always have it.
Contact drops.
Compact, even though I hardly ever use it and am thinking about ditching it.
Mirror purchased in London.
Tiny tape measure, which comes in handy more than you would think.
Swiss army knife, every self-sufficient gal needs one.
Cloth wipe, good for runny noses and excessive drool.
Prescription sunglasses in case.  (Non-prescription shades live in my car.)
Coupons and current Babies R Us circular, because I've been caught without it too many times.
Gift cards I'm still carrying around from Christmas, again because I've been caught without them too many times.
Keys and back-up keys. (Really ought to not keep them together...)
Small jewelry box so I don't lose anything when I go to the Y or otherwise need to remove my jewelry.
Fancy pen given to me by Preston's sweet grandparents.
Bottle of acetaminophen, which I started carrying around when I was preggo and it was the only thing I was allowed to take, and have continued carrying around since I'm breastfeeding and it is among the very few things I'm allowed to take.  Hardly ever need it, but like having it around.
Trash.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

ABCs of Me

For fun:

 

A~Age: 29. For one more month.

B~ Bed Size: Queen.

C~Chore you hate: Taking out the trash.

D~Dogs: No, no time.  Cats!

E~Essential Start your Day Item: Bolthouse Farms Perfectly Protein Mocha Cappuccino.

F~Favorite Color: Blue.

G~Gold or Silver: Gold.

H~Height: 5’ 5".

I~Instruments you play: I used to play piano, clarinet, bass drum.

J~Job Title: Librarian IV.

K~Kids: Zoë.

L~Live: Houston, TX.

M~Mom’s Name: Sandy.

N~Nicknames: Bik.

O~Overnight Hospital Stays: Only 1, for 2 nights, for having The Kid.

P~Pet Peeve: You're means "you are"; your means "your".  Also, Yay = "woohoo, yipee!", Yea is pronounced yay = "indeed", Yeah (pronounced yah-uh) = slangy "yes".

Q~Quote from a Movie: I quote movies *all* the time, but I come up blank when prompted.  C'est la vie.

R~Right or Left Handed: Right.

S~Siblings: Half-bro and estranged half-sister, both over 20 years older.

T~Time you wake up: 3:15am.  To pump.  I cannot wait until I can quit with that and go back to 4am!

U~Underwear: Yes.

V~Vegetable you Dislike: Asparagus. Gag me with stringyness.

W~What Makes You Late: Nothing.  I don't believe in being late.  I used to have a band director who said, "If you're early, you're on time.  If you're on time, you're late.  If you're late, you're down."  And down meant push-ups.  And I would have done anything to avoid the embarrassment of trying to do push-ups in front of the other kids on my toothpick-sized arms.  So I developed a habit of *extreme* earliness.  And I like it that way.

X-rays ~You’ve had Done: Teeth, wrist, knee.

Y~Yummy Food you Make: Roast and mashed potatoes, a recipe from my mother.  And recently, Oatmeal Blueberry muffins, a recipe from Epicurious.  I also make an excellent Pineapple Pecan cake with a cream cheese icing.  All of these from scratch, of course.

Z~Zoo Animal Favorites: I love all animals,  but seeing them locked up makes me sad.

What does this say about me?

I just learned that I qualify to be a member of the Half Fanatics.

Before this morning, I had never even heard of the group.  I had heard of their "crazier" sister org: the Marathon Maniacs (and vaguely formed a desire to qualify), but never even thought about there being a version for the Half.

If my grand half plan had gone off without 2 DNS's last year, I'd even qualify to be in their second tier of "crazy".  But as it is I qualify twice-over to be in the first tier: once for the marathon warm-up series in '08, and once for the 4 Halfs in 3 months in '09 - aka what I did finish of the grand plan before I got injured and preggo (in that order).

I also have a strange desire to be in the 50 States Marathon Club.  My guest room is decorated with maps, and I've always wanted to put up a big world map and pin all the places I've been.  I want to have a special color pin for places I've run in; not necessarily marathons (as I've only run 1), but any organized run at all.  At the moment, that only includes Dallas, Austin, Houston, Galveston, San Antonio, Roswell NM, St. Louis MO, and London UK.  But every time we take a little vacation, I'm on the lookout for a race.  I love racing out-of-town; I feel like I really get to know a place by running in it.

That, of course, is ironic since I'm looking for shorter races close to home as I continue my comeback into running.  Plan to follow in the next post!

Back to the point: what does all this say about me?  I'm a little obsessive.  I go all out or go home.  If I'm going to train for Halfs, why not race a ton of them and become the best at them that I can be?  If I'm going to train for a full, why not run a ton of longer races instead of training runs on the way?  If I'm going to be racing short distances, let's do a crap-ton of them so I get faster and have ever-present looming motivation?  In short, I'm just this side of crazy.  But it works for me (unless I get injured... or preggo...)!  I love goals.  Love them.  And medals.

In a woman's head, out loud

This morning as I was dressing after my swim, I heard the door to the locker room open, and a voice started moving towards me. I didn't think anything of it, just figured it was a woman walking/talking with a friend, until the lady got to the end of my row and I laid eyes on her.

She was alone.

I heard her say, "Let's see, it's 6:15 now, so I could start with cardio..." Her voice trailed off as she moved away from me, but make no mistake, she was still talking.

It reminded me of the movie "What Women Want" where Mel Gibson can suddenly hear what women are thinking. He goes to a park, having just discovered this, and is assailed by the thoughts of all the women around him, most of which sounded as mundane as what the woman this morning was saying. I think most, if not all, women are constantly thinking stuff like this. I know I am.

The difference is: the woman this morning was thinking out loud. Alone.

Creepy.

Kalla

Actual conversation between Preston and his co-worker:

CW: Mega lame. Kalla.

P: Mwahahaha. Rebar fool. In the middle.

CW: Move it over.

P: Perhaps. Just a minute.

CW: Hurry up mufuka! Ur kalla me!

P: This program kalla me big time. It won't even shut down now. It's just frozen.

CW: Mega kalla moonstar!

P: That comatorium album is super killer isn't it?

CW: So far yup! Haven't listened to it all but super mega kalla soooooo far!

P: It loses my attention at the end but it's almost all mega kalla. Like controlled mayhem.

CW: I would love to listen to them on lsd! Scare the shit out of me walk on the blade you know? No attention needed just close ur eyes and kalla! I'm out there meow! U don't know this.

I can't make this shit up.

You know those weeks?

You know those weeks where every day feels like it should be Thursday?

This is one of them. Thank goodness tomorrow actually *is* Thursday.

You know it is hot when...

77 degrees at 5am feels *noticeably cooler*.

I have been a good girl so far this week. I was careful to not set my expectations too high: no hour-and-a-half workouts before work for me. Just whatever my Woodlands Fit marathon training schedule (though I'm not training for a marathon) says, and on the days it says OFF, 30 minutes of anything I want, as long as it is something. On Wednesday that was biking. I expect on Friday it might be swimming. Or lifting. Or core. Or maybe some DDR... Ah, the possibilities! Not training for triathlon can actually be quite liberating.

21 days to a habit all over again. Hang the fatigue. A habit can carry me though whatever crap life brings on.

Now, I need a hair cut. And can someone tell me when the jet lag will ease up??

Lots, Just Lots

I've got a lot to cover!

Turkey Trot Race Report is forthcoming, but here is a quick recap: I left on Sunday for my parents' house. I ran a 4 miler on hills on Monday, legs still feeling a little dead. Decided to cut the planned 4 miler on Tuesday because I realized I was scheduled to run 8 in the Turkey Trot, then 18 on Saturday. Figured 30 was enough for the week!! Tooled around with my rents, saw some friends, had Thanksgiving with family, saw some of Tut's stuff, then headed home on Friday.

Ok, so, about that 18 miler - I finished it! Woodlands Fit runs this one with Kingwood Fit. I had never been to Kingwood before, but it is quite a nice place. The first 9 weren't too exciting - through standard neighborhoods. I did hook up with a WFitter that I had never met before at about 5, and we would run the rest of the way together. I was glad, because despite the lovely nature trails and lakes of the second half, I was hurting after 15 pretty strongly, and any distraction was welcome. Anyways, 18.28 miles in 3:26. Not too bad for a training run! One of my coaches even emailed me to tell me I didn't look like I was struggling at the end - I may not have looked it, but I felt it! I told her, though, that for the first time I felt like maybe I could actually do this marathon thing. She said, "If you can do 18, then you can do 21, and if you can do 21, you can finish the marathon." Wow.

Beyond that, Preston started C25K on Monday!! I'm really excited. I think that he would really enjoy competing in the 5Ks in the Spring, and I'll really enjoy having him running instead of feeling guilty about dragging him around to all of these races.

I gained a few pounds in the past 2 weeks. I'm back up over 130, so I need to start dieting again, but it is the strangest thing - things just keep happening that seem to get in my way. I'm about ready to drop the hammer once and for all and get in 2 good weeks of healthy eating before x-mas, though... I feel rather like my body is craving a nice long hibernation. I'm storing fat, and each morning when I wake up it is everything I can do to drag myself out of bed, and sometimes I'm not even making it to my workouts. I suspect that this is why people program off-seasons into their plans. I haven't really taken any time off since I started almost 2 years ago, but it is difficult to justify and stomach time off when you use exercise as a method of weight control, mood control, etc. I've been trying to do less time each week in a sort of controlled off-season way instead. Focusing only on running and letting everything else slip so I'm putting in fewer hours. It may be working, but my head is so fuzzy from it that I can't really tell!! I'm sure that this, too, shall pass. I am really looking forward to some short stuff in the Spring, though!

I have just one more thing to really talk about. My work hired my replacement (finally - took them 10 months!). I was really ambivalent about the whole thing... but I really like her. She friended me on Facebook, and as a result I took a look at her blog. Now, here's the thing... I discovered from reading her blog that she is even cooler than I expected, which is great. But, I almost feel like I'm peeping through the window to her private thoughts. I shouldn't, I mean, she linked to her blog, so she must expect that people will follow the link and read it, and she must be intelligent enough to not friend people that she doesn't want reading it, but still, there is something almost wrong about it all. I started thinking about how very few people who know me know about my blog, and about how I like it that way. I never write these entries for anyone else, though I don't mind people reading (obviously). I never wanted to censor myself here, and I never have, with the exception of work stuff. Would I be weirded out if someone from work found my blog and then commented on it (without me telling them about it) - yes, indeed I would. I work with Librarians, y'all, and if they can do their jobs, I think they could find me... Just a lot of thoughts running around in my head regarding blogging and personal privacy and public access and the nature of knowing someone. Somehow a person's blog seems such an intimate thing (or at least, it can). It may only seem that way because of the way I think of my blog, but there it is. If you are reading an uncensored person, then you are really seeing into a part of their personality that they may keep hidden in the world of real life. And if that is the case, could it be true that one who reads your blog knows you better than the people you interact with on a daily basis?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRESTON!!

Back from Chicago Distraction

Back from Chicago. Needed a random distraction from the heap of email I'm buried under at work, so here it is: Via Billy's blog, via Clusterflock:

Your Debut Album
1 - Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:RandomThe first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 - Go to Random quotations: http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3The last four words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
If you want to do this again, you’ll hit refresh to generate new quotes, because clicking the quotes link again will just give you the same quotes over and over again.
3 - Go to flickr’s “explore the last seven days” http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
Put it all together, that’s your debut album.

Sooo... my band's name is: Saint Paul City Hall and Ramsey County Courthouse. (Laaaaame!)

The title of the album shall be: Natural Channel to Open. (WTF??)

The album cover isn't interested in being uploaded to Blogger, but you can see it here. It is totally badass.

To Catch a Thief

One of the buildings at my work has been closed for 2 years for renovation, and was reopened last weekend. A huge festival weekend was planned, and I worked at it both Saturday and Sunday.

So, we'd been open for about an hour on Saturday, and I was working on the main floor when I hear a man cry out, "Stop that man! He stole my wallet! He's a thief, stop him!" I looked over to see a man start running.

I immediately started chasing him, and quickly saw a route through the crowd where I could cut him off. Two other staff members followed the route he took. Sure enough, he lost them, but I saw him run behind a partition, ditch his bag and the man's wallet, and start nonchalantely walking towards the exit. I was heading him off, so I actually greeted him and then just fell in behind him and started tailing him. I looked over at a colleague and mouthed "Help." He looked back and mouthed "Help?" I nodded and mouthed back, "Help, thief." He then quickly joined me and we tailed the man together towards the exit, where we knew there were security guards. As we approached the guard, I could see that she was on her walkie-talkie, and that she was saying she didn't know where the thief had gone. I started frantically waving and pointing at the guy I was tailing, and she stopped him before he could leave.

So that no one asks, no, I don't know what the hell I was thinking, little me chasing a criminal. It was instinct: I was in my place of work, I was responsible for the people in there, therefore I chased the man. I do believe that I acted as safely as possible under the circumstances, not identifying myself or letting him know that I knew what he had just done, and letting the trained professional stop him.

But seriously, holy crap, I totally wouldn't have caught him if I hadn't been a runner!

Public Restrooms

When an architect or builder designs a bathroom, why is it that they don't offset the sewer out-hole for the toilet line based on the knowledge that there will be a toilet paper holder on one wall or the other of the stall? You know what I mean - those bathrooms where your arm is rubbing up against the toilet paper holder while you are sitting...

When an architect or builder designs the bathroom, why do they not leave more than 6 inches of clearance between the toilet and the area where the stall door will be, knowing that the toilet paper holder will by Murphy's Law be on the side where the user will need clearance to simply get in the stall? Again, we've all been in those bathrooms where you open the stall door, stand up on your tippy-toes pressed against the toilet paper holder and suck in your gut to close the stall door passed your body. Seriously, what do people who weigh more than 150 pounds do if I can barely get in??

Why??

Nerves

First tri tomorrow.

Freaking out.

Bike all checked in, chip obtained. Alarm set, bag packed. Checked, rechecked. Nervous.

Must go to sleep: goals first.
1. Finish.
2. Finish in under 2 hours.

That's it. First time, after all.

Must sleep. Quiet, restless mind....