Bike and Build

*For those of you simply looking for a way to contribute, click here and select my name from the drop down list. And of course, thank you!

This summer, I'm going to join Bike and Build, an organization that leads groups of people to ride across the country (east-west) and build affordable housing along the way. I was intrigued for a million reasons, but the biggest one is because of their Katrina specialized route this year. One of the routes they're doing is a one across the South (Florida-San Francisco) that crosses through Mississippi and New Orleans and stops for an extended amount of time to help rebuild the hurricane devastated areas. The route even goes right though Lafayette, LA, which is where I'm from.

I know it's not a small thing to take on. It's almost three months of riding and building houses; I've never built houses before. I wouldn't be able to play my flute much, but I talked to my teacher about that, and he gave me some great suggestions for being able to deal with being a flutist on the road. And of course, there is the fundraising.

I've committed to raising $4,000 for Bike and Build; the money will go directly into affordable housing costs. In their words:

Bike and Build organizes cross-country bicycle trips which benefit affordable housing groups. Specifically, we fund projects planned and executed by young adults. We have donated $1,144,231 in our past 5 seasons, and have pedaled over 2.2M miles, spreading the word about the affordable housing crisis in America.

Through pre-arranged gifts, Bike and Build funds affordable housing projects executed by our participants in communities where our events begin. Through our grant program, our organization identifies and supports exciting projects involving young people all throughout the nation. Bike and Build also supports local affordable housing organizations along each route through on the road donations.

Bike and Build garners media and community attention for the affordable housing cause. Bike and Build's expansive national footprint allows our organization to promote the need for and importance of affordable housing in 40 states and hundreds of communities nationwide. Through print and TV media, town-hall style meetings, and informal grassroots interaction, Bike & Build participants bring our organization's message to thousands of people from all walks of life.

Bike and Build fosters leadership and lifelong philanthropic service in our participants. Bike and Build's programming introduces young adults to the affordable housing cause, engages them in a unique and interesting way, and creates a prolonged and intimate connection. By funding building projects involving students and young adults, Bike and Build creates incremental service opportunities among young adults, empowering this crucial demographic.

I know it's a big commitment, but I'm really unbelievably excited about doing something big, about raising the money and accomplishing things I have yet to conquer--riding across the country to be sure, but also learning about affordable housing and even how to build a house.

The catch is that the ride encompasses Coeur d'Alene, but I've gotten permission to take a week off of the ride, and according to the schedule, I'll be in introductory meetings the week beforehand and building the week after. So yes, it's partially crazy to attempt to both do an IronMan and ride across the country in one summer. But, this could be my last summer 'off' since I'll be graduating next year and hopefully joining the ranks of the employed, but besides that--I just really, wholly want to do it.

To any of you who might be surprised that I have any kind of interest at all in building houses, I offer the following anecdote that I wrote about for the application essay...

When I was a little girl, I would look out the window and see my dad building things—a studio for himself, a doghouse, a hammock, a tree house. For the longest time, I thought the grownups just ‘knew’ how to build things. Because I initially didn't know to be proud, it was a big disappointment when I realized that my dad was special, and I was not going to magically know how to create houses or even bookshelves when I got older. I do not know if I inherited any kind of building talent, but I am excited to find out. I might be 'just a girl', but I someday hope to be the kind of mother that a kid would look at and say ‘I want to be able to do that when I grow up.’

I have several fund-raisers in mind, so I'm not begging for money (yet), but if you do want to contribute, just click here and pick my name (Susanna Loewy) from the drop-down list. I've also put a link on the top of the page.

Closed Out

Last year, the Philadelphia Marathon never closed; it was open all the way until the day before the race. So, I was never in the least worried about the fact that I had yet to register.

Until yesterday, when I tried to register and saw that the race is closed.

I'm an idiot.

I guess I'll just bandit, because I'll be damned if I miss running a marathon on my birthday, especially considering the whole running 26 miles the day I turn 26 thing. I already got a T-shirt made and everything.

Again, I'm an idiot.

So, bandit it is...unless anyone has some ideas about how to get me in on the sly??

You want a ride?

I just went for a 5 mile run. Or rather, I just went for miles 13-18 of my long run. I ran 13 this morning with the club, and then called it day since it was a torrential downpour and I smelled like a wet dog. Plus, I was hungry and cranky and wanted breakfast. So, I went about my day (sleeping, practicing...), and then ran again tonight. That was the plan when I quit early this morning, but I'm pretty damn proud of myself for actually doing it. I know it's probably not quite as good as getting the whole thing done at once (you can't split the marathon into two sessions), but at least I got in the mileage and time on my feet.

And you know what? That last five miles felt awesome. I haven't felt so good running in months. Really. I just felt light and I don't know how fast or not-fast I was going, but it didn't matter...I felt fast.

Anyway, so I'm starting out my run, dressed in running gear, and a girl in a car pulls up to me and asks me for directions. I tell her, and start running again. She pulls over to the side and says, 'Oh, you want a ride?'. Um...'no'.

Isn't that weird? I mean, I'm in running clothes, I'm running, why would I want a ride? The rains have stopped and it's a gorgeous night out. It's not like I'm in the middle of nowhere in the rain or snow, or like I even looked like I was in pain. Or maybe I did without knowing it. Maybe my normal running gate makes people want to pull over and ask if I need help.

I think I'm going to make it a practice to offer runners everywhere a ride, just to crack myself up. A good idea, except that some of them might agree...

More Brown: A Change of Mind

A Study in Brown

Calm

I don't think my life is what you could call 'together'.

I'm still in school, with no real expectations of a worthwhile job after I finish. I go out on dates, but can't seem to be brave enough to try a relationship again. I have friends, but no best friends. I'm monetarily challenged. I have two flute recitals to give this year. I'm in shape, but I've also probably signed up for too many races and events this year; I'm a bit overwhelmed by the muscles my legs are going to have to find.

In other words, everything seems to be a bit out of control.

Yet somehow, despite all the seeming entropic chaos, I've managed to find an internal calm that had been missing over the past couple of years.

The side effects are great. I can sit through a three hour rehearsal without fidgeting and looking at the clock on my cell phone every 38 seconds. I can attend a two and a half hour class without covering countless pages with meaningless doodles and (bad!) sketches. I can do my reading and practicing without taking a break every 10 minutes. I can train without obsessing about everything that is wrong with me, not to mention the world at large.

I can concentrate, and I can experience things as they are now.

So, I know that things are far from perfect. But these things, they are getting better. This year is exponentially better than last, and I fully expect next year to be better than this one. I don't know when you can proclaim yourself 'healed', but I do know that I'm racing along the right course.

This internal calm I feel will soon project itself into my external world.

And so that's why I know I can handle everything that I've taken on. I know that the sense of peace I feel will take control and I'll be able to do everything I need to do. I will race and finish the IronMan, I will graduate with my Doctorate, I will (fill in the blank with the exciting thing in my life that I haven't publicized yet because I don't have the details confirmed).

And most importantly, I will be a good person.

That might all sound gag-me-with-a-spoon-(or knife, depending on which you feel would be better)-cheesy, but the cheese-factor doesn't make it any less true. I know that the second I overstep my capabilities, the calm will escape, and I'll be back to filling notebooks with nonsense and snapping at my mom over the phone.

Right now though, I have confidence that I'm on track. My heart and chest are settled, but I have the excitement of the unknown and the thrill of possibility pumping through every cell in my body. I'll keep putting myself out there, and I'll keep doing the things I love to do. After all, you can't do too much of what makes you, you...

We move on.

We all move on from minor disappointments. This is nothing different.

The week is almost over, and I have a long run and a long bike on tap for the weekend. I did alright with my training this week; so far I've only missed one run and one swim. It's hard for me to fit everything in as is, and I'm getting a little worried about IM training, when it all ramps up tenfold. Something in my schedule might have to drop. I'm busy almost every second of every day, from 8-10 (or 6-10 on Mondays and Wedesday). I know that's probably not that much outside of the norm for so many of you out there (doing this with kids? a full time job? both?! I don't know how you do it), but for me it's completely and utterly exhausting and it means that when I have a second of spare time I don't feel relief, but instead panic about what I should be doing to prepare for the next class, the next rehearsal, recital, lesson, or workout.

But, the workouts this weekend will be fun; I'm doing them with friends. On Saturday, I found someone in my running club who is willing to do long runs even though she's not marathon training. Crazy. So, we'll do a three hour run together. And then Sunday, I'm biking to the apple orchard with Courtney, and even though I can't imagine I'll be able to ride 80m comfortably, I'm sure we'll still have a great day.

With 6 weeks to go (yikes!), and next week being the first rehearsal with my pianist, recital repertoire has finally been pinned down. Here it is in performance order:

Milhaud Sonatine
Godard Suite
**intermission**
CPE Bach Hamburg Sonata
Carter Scrivo in Vento
Copland Duo

Oh, and the date has been set. I'm not going to let anything get in the way. The weekend of November 9-11, I'm going to Vermont. I'll be done with my long runs and just in taper zone, I don't have any concerts scheduled, and there is no reason why I can't take the weekend off to see the Vermont leaves, even if it is at the end of their glory.

So, that's about it here; it's time to get up and go to the library and print out thousand pages of articles I was supposed to read for class, so that I at least look like I have everything together. Next week, I once again have 2 papers due; getting the reading done won't be optional.

A Change in Perception

I know I owe you guys a full report. And, I was all set to write about the ups and downs of the day. I already had the thing written in my head.

Then I got a really nice email from one of the judges telling me that I had been close, and he was disappointed I didn't advance. I feel a little guilty repeating that; maybe I shouldn't. But, what does it really matter? It obviously doesn't change the results.

For some reason though, knowing that I was one of the top 12 (when 10 advanced) actually made me feel, for the first time, like I had lost. It's somehow harder to swallow that I actually had a shot. At the competition, I looked around the room and saw all those REAL athletes, and figured that little 'ole me didn't have any kind of chance. Knowing that I did...well, it made me feel that lump of disappointment in my chest.

All the same, I'm of course glad that the guy contacted me. It's nice to know I made an impact, regardless of the outcome.

And so, arriving on Saturday, and seeing all of those girls with ridiculously long running legs and guys who didn't have an ounce of body fat, I set about the day thinking that I was simply there to have fun and learn; I just went through the day and did my best.

We did a 20 minute field test on the bike, which translates into 'ride as fast and hard as you can for 20 minutes and feel like you're going to die after 5'. Then, we did the same thing for 12 minutes on a treadmill on a 1.5 grade incline. I was only able to run 1.51m, which I was a little bummed about (I feel like I should be able to run faster than an 8min/m, even up a hill), but I definitely did my best (I was clutching the treadmill by the end just to stay on the thing), so I couldn't really be upset.

20 minutes and 12 minutes may not sound like much, but let me tell you...after that 32 minutes, my legs were more trashed than they have been in a long time. Too long.

The coaches gave us a printout with our heart rate and wattage information, which was probably the coolest part of the day. I'm going to take full advantage of my new heart rate monitor and become a numbers-psycho...or at least I'll wear the thing and try to pay semi-attention to it. One of the two...or somewhere in-between, right?

Something kind of funny...my average heart rate for the bike was 187, and on the run it was 196. It wasn't even my chest that was hurting when I did the tests; it was my legs that just wouldn't go any faster or further. Apparently I have a hummingbird heart. I don't think that's a good or a bad thing, but definitely interesting to learn.

Anyway, I had a good time. I met some people I'm hoping to keep in touch with, and it was a nice day.

Like I mentioned before, on Sunday I ran a 10K recovery road race with friends. It was perhaps the most beautiful fall day yet this year, and it was awesome to be out running. It might have been a little bit of 'long run avoidance', but it was a good kind of procrastination.

And tomorrow evening? I don't have to teach, and my aunt and uncle can't do our regular dinner, so a-running I will go. I'll get in a couple hours on my feet and then this weekend I'll do the 18 miler.

I hate marathon training.

But it's worth it to run 26 miles on the day I turn 26. You don't have that opportunity more than once, you know? And, it's obviously a pretty big coincidence that I have it all. Of course, I like being in marathon shape; I just don't like the long runs...because they hurt...physically, of course, but also mentally.

But hurting...that's how you get stronger. What hurt before doesn't hurt now, and the pain now will be inconsequential in future races, distances, and accomplishments.

And I have a big announcement to be coming soon; you'll probably all think I'm beyond crazy, but I'm pumped up nonetheless. (No, it's not another Ironman this summer, but think along those lines...)

Cause I know you can't handle the suspense any longer...

I didn't get picked. Let's just say there were some amazing athletes there, and I'm pretty lucky to have been in the last 100. I had a blast though, met some cool people (and saw others I already knew), and found out some useful information about what I can do and what I should be doing. All in all, not a bad turnout.

More details soon, I promise. Right now, I need to shower to get the 10k scum off of me. (I ran/jogged a slow road race this afternoon because it's absolutely gorgeous out and I love local races. Plus, it was my running club's race, and I should have been there helping, but I was afraid to sign up to help because I might have had to be in the city for the Kona thing, and I didn't want to end up backing out. [How's that for a run-on sentence?] So, I figured the least I could do was run the thing and give them my $22 race entry fee. I ate a lot of hot dogs afterwards to make up for it though, so I'm not an angel or anything.)

Cadence Kona Challenge, Day 2

I ate ants for breakfast.

With a side of cereal.

I don't want to talk about it.

Cadence Kona Challenge, Day 1

Tonight, I learned what a 'field test' is. I'm going to have to cycle as hard as I can for 20 minutes, and then run as far as I can in 12 minutes. They're going to have us hooked up to a Computrainer that will let us race against each other and see our wattage, mph, etc.

I don't have any idea what I'll do on the bike (wattage? what's wattage? what's power?), but I'm hoping to run at least 1.6m.

They keep saying they're not looking for the 6 fastest people, but instead people with potential that have good human interest stories. I'm not above smiling for the camera, so I'll just be as personable as possible and do my best during the race.

My wave doesn't start until 1:15, so I'm going to go to the group run tomorrow morning and run a few easy miles before heading into the city, just to loosen up. Then, I'll compete and afterwards find out 'my numbers'. (Regardless, I'll come out of this knowing more about myself as an athlete, so that's pretty cool in and of itself.) Afterwards, I'm hoping to go to Central Park to get some more miles in. (Philly is now only a month away; I can't really afford to lose another weekend.) And then at 5PM, it's verdict-time, and I'll see if I'm one of the chosen ones. It was pretty cool being there; video cameras, all-star judges, food and champagne...we were definitely treated well.

Tomorrow night, I might go to a really cool show that people pay thousands of dollars to see, and get turned away for not being dressed well enough...cause yeah, I've got connections. Of course if I advance I'll come home and get a good night's sleep instead, but if I don't...it might be just what I need.

I used to get pierced after flute auditions; I think I'm over that, but there is still a definite need for stress release after intense competition. Going out with some friends might just suffice.

You know, I do get nervous for this stuff, but not nearly as nervous as I used to get for flute auditions. And the cool thing is that I don't get as nervous for flute stuff anymore either. I don't think I've 'used up' all my nerves or anything, but I think that I've just gotten so much better at handling them, through both athletic and musical experience. I really think that it's the combination of dealing with the different types of performance stress and nerves that has helped. It's pretty neat to see the two main aspects of my life so clearly working in conjunction.

And so without further babbling, here are some pics of the gear they gave us. A Zoot Race Kit and Cadence Kona shirt, complete with Suunto Heart Rate monitor watch...

Eyes Wide Shut

What a week. Maybe my body was pissed at me for attempting to travel across the country for a weekend; maybe I just haven't gotten enough sleep. Regardless, I'm kind of falling apart.

First, I pulled my neck while sleeping and had absolutely no range of motion in my head. Needless to say, I didn't teach spinning. The upside is that now I understand what people mean when they say a muscle seized and they can't move it. I always just thought...well, just move it...it can't hurt THAT much. But actually...yeah, it DOES hurt, and your muscle just won't move. It's not a matter of dealing with pain or not; it's just a matter of possibility, and the lack thereof.

Then, I bit my lip. Twice. In the same spot. Hard. And there was lots of blood. And I play the flute and the combination of swollen lip and piece of metal on lip aren't really working hand in hand.

And now? Last night, I used this face wash that I KNEW I was allergic to (why, WHY? did I use it anyway??!), and so this morning my eyes are all red and swollen and I look a little too much a like a pug dog.

And of course this is the Kona Challenge weekend and I look like a mutant with my red eyes and busted lip. Here's to hoping that a hot compress and Advil will work.

I went into the city and saw my old teacher from Cleveland for dinner last night. He was in New York for a series of concerts, and was nice enough to meet me for dinner. It was really great to see him; it reminded me that not everything in Cleveland is bad, and (more importantly) that he's a really awesome person and I was lucky to get to know him for 6 years.

After dinner, I was supposed to go to the beat box flutist's CD opening, but the person I was going to go with ditched at the last minute, and I was too chicken-shit to go by myself. And so I wandered around New York for a couple of hours, bought a really cool race outfit for Philly, and then headed back home via the train. It was a nice evening, actually.

And the miracle of the week? That by some insane coincidence, BOTH of my classes are paper-less for the next week. That's right, I might have to read some boring articles, but for the next week, I will not have to write anything about music or philosophy or theory or anything else where I pretend to be smarter than I actually am.

And so this weekend I take 'field tests' to see if I'm one of the 6 out of 100 people that will be picked for this Kona Challenge thing. I'm excited, a little nervous, and appropriately hopeful. Wish me luck...

Next month in Triathlete Magazine

The Lafayette Airport is neither large, nor far away...it shouldn't be a big deal to get home.

(warning: rant)

I'm at home this weekend for a friend's wedding. I got in yesterday morning at 10, after taking a 5:30am flight (and getting up at 3 to catch said flight). The trip was completely uneventful until I arrived in Lafayette, at which point I had to get a cab because my parents were both busy teaching classes.

No big deal, right? So I take a cab to my house...not something that needs to be talked about, much less written to the world at large.

But, this cab ride was special. Since Lafayette is not a big metropolis (gasp!), I had to call to get the cab once I got in. Keep in mind that I had slept for 3 hours, and I'm used to 8...at least. Cranky doesn't even begin to cover it...

(As a probably unwanted side note, my stomach seems to stop working when I don't get enough sleep, so with a bloated stomach from that, and nausea from the plane--I don't travel well, obviously--I wasn't feeling great, to say the least.)

And so the cab took 30 minutes to arrive; I had just given up and was going to start calling random people I knew around Lafayette. As I start to get in, a guy comes up and asks if he can share the cab with me.

Of course; no big deal. It turns out he's a friend of the groom and is in town for the same wedding; funny coincidence, we all have a nice chuckle.

I'm tired.

So it's a completely gorgeous day in Lafayette and all I want to do is lie down outside; I want to be home; I want to do my laundry and say hi to my dog.

And then the cab driver asks if he can smoke. Before I can say no, the guy says he doesn't care...so of course I have to agree. I never really say yes; I just look away and close my eyes and pretend I'm not there. Nasty, disgusting cigarette smoke comes floating from the front seat right into my face. I leaned over all the way to one side of the cab to try to get away from it, but it seemed to just keep following me.

And the radio? It was tuned to conservative talk radio. I am liberal; I have no problem with conservatives; everyone is entitled to their own opinions...but I don't want to listen to someone talking about putting all the Mexicans on a boat and shipping them back to where they came from when I'm freaking tired and have the patience of a two year old.

The cab driver decided to tell jokes: 'Where did you fly in from today?' 'New Jersey' 'Wow, your arms must be tired!' And I'm supposed to laugh. A lot, apparently, because he kept repeating the punch line like it was the most hilarious thing anyone had ever heard south of the Mason Dixon line.

I am good with directions. I know Lafayette very well; I grew up here and learned to drive in this city. I know all the shortcuts; I know how to avoid the traffic at any time of day.

This cab driver? Not enlightened.

I get shy, or simply unable to assert myself, when I'm in a position where someone else is in control...and so I watched as Mr. Conservative Smoker took the route that led us right through the middle of the college campus at lunch time. We were stopped; it was worse than Jersey traffic.

I was trapped in traffic, exhausted, in a smoke filled car, listening to a Rush Limbaugh wanna-be and bad, BAD jokes. Not my idea of a good welcome home, to say the least.

And so we're driving down the main street in Lafayette, which is bumper to bumper, and the driver is driving SO slowly; it wasn't just safe-slow, it was unsafe-because-people-will-drive-over-you slow. We're talking 20 miles per hour in a 45 mile per hour speed limit. Not okay, people, not okay.

Then, we see the place where the guy needs to go. Okay, so we drop him off. It makes sense; we were driving right past it--why go out of our way to drop me off first? But, it was MY CAB. I'm the one who called and waited a half hour for the damn thing to come. And now he's sitting in the front (okay, so I wouldn't have wanted to sit in the front anyway, but still...he wasn't getting the smoke shower I was so lucky to receive), and he gets to escape first. It wasn't fair.

So then he leaves and doesn't pay anything. I was going to just accept it and chalk it all up to a bad trip home, but something in me cracked. As he was going into the tux shop (he was in the wedding and needed to be fit), I told the driver to honk and get some money. And so he did. In the guy's defense, I think he just forgot. He was probably tired too. He apologized and gave more than he should have. So all was good.

Until we tried to leave the parking lot. Yes, we're going back onto the busiest street in Lafayette. But guess what? There are still chances to make a right turn. Making a left? Almost impossible. But a right? Every minute or so, there is an opportunity.

This cab driver needed about a half mile of empty space to attempt the turn. It got so bad that I started mumbling 'Turn, TURN, turn NOW, okay...TURN'. I didn't say it loud enough for him to hear, but almost. Finally, after literally 10 minutes of sitting there and him exclaiming about how bad Lafayette traffic has gotten, he made the turn. We're on our way. Thank God.

So then, after 2 more torturous turns and worse-than-Grandma-driving, we get to my house (45 minutes later; I live about 11 minutes from the airport normally) and he tried to lift my suitcase out of the trunk. It was 56 pounds of dirty laundry (yeah, I had to pay the extra $25 for the 6 pounds of shoes I brought that made my bag overweight), and I know 56 pounds is a lot.

But it's not THAT much. And he couldn't even begin to help, and he was in the way of me being able to do it myself. I finally just told him to get out of the way and I would do it.

And so I did.

I gave him a big tip to just get out of my life and walked inside, put my laundry in the washer, gave my dog a big hug, and went to sleep.

When I woke up an hour later in a much better mood (I acknowledge that none of this would have been that big of a deal if I hadn't been completely sleep deprived), I took a shower to get rid of the residue of conservative radio and smoke.

Locker Rooms

I don't mind changing in a locker room. I don't walk around naked, but I'm not so shy that I have to have a towel covering me at all times. There is respected anonymity in a locker room; people don't look at you, and you don't look at them. It's not a place where there is judgment or where you should strut your stuff.

HOWEVER...when I run into someone I know, this whole 'I'm cool with being naked in public' attitude flips on its head.

How do you handle running into your flute student in a locker room? I need to get out of my sweaty clothes and into some not-as-stinky jeans, but I'm not going to change in front of a high school girl that I teach flute lessons in her living room every Tuesday afternoon.

It's bad enough to see people from my spinning classes in there, but that's inevitable, and I've gotten over it.

And around friends, it's also not an issue...like I said, being overly modest is not a problem I have.

But, it seems that my flute student has swim team practice every Thursday night at the same time that I teach spinning...so I will continue to see her in there, every week.

Do I resort to the change-in-the-bathroom-stall game, or do I just quickly change and close my eyes, thinking that if I can't see her, she can't see me?

Neither so-called solutions really solve the problem. I suppose I'll just try to get in there and change before she gets out of practice and hope to avoid the situation altogether...and probably get caught completely naked as a whole team of high school girl swimmers comes flooding into the locker room.

As a side note, these girls were today complaining/shouting (because all conversations in high school are apparently carried out at top volume) about not being able to break 58 seconds for a 100m free. Poor things, eh? I can't even imagine swimming that speed; my insides might implode from traveling so fast.

In any case, locker rooms are just kind of funny because I can't imagine that anyone feels totally comfortable in them, yet everyone is pretending they are.

If I weren't in the midst of it, I'd laugh hysterically.

Flute World

When you're in the midst of a certain environment, there is a huge tendency to forget the world at large, to exist in your own little bubble. Here at Rutgers, all the flute players are especially nice, and I feel confident in both befriending and playing for them.

Flutists at large? Not so much.

There is a definite flutist mentality and attitude that I try hard to avoid. The well-deserved stereotype is realized in competitiveness, snobbery, backhanded actions, and just general bitchy-ness...an "I'm the best" attitude to exponential extreme.

But, being in such a friendly atmosphere, I tend to forget about all that. All the flutists at Rutgers have good attitudes in large part because our teacher, Bart Feller, makes sure that both he and the studio would get along with the applicant before he even considers accepting them to the program.

And so when I walked into the masterclass yesterday and saw bona fide 'flutists', I kind of freaked out. I freaked out because when I see that look, that slant of the eye that guarantees that flutistic attitude, I immediately feel inferior.

As if on cue, I feel mortal, not-special, and I wonder what I'm doing there, posing as a flutist, as a musician. I have good credentials; I went to a top music conservatory, studied with major teachers, and have had a decent amount of outside success. Yet, somehow I always forget all of that--I feel as though I faked all of it, somehow tricked people into thinking that I'm 'good'. For some reason, I feel like if I'm doing it, it can't be all that special.

So last night, as I walked into the music hall, I saw 'The Girl Who is Definitely a Flutist' rehearsing with the pianist and I hated the way she played. It wasn't for any concrete reason (she had a huge, full tone and a technique that left little to be desired); rather, it was just a taste that watching and listening left in my mouth--a bitter, slightly turgid feeling of animosity.

And so by judging, aren't I even worse than what I'm supposing about this girl? Maybe she's perfectly nice. Is it possible that it's just confidence that I'm sensing, and that I'm jealous of, and in turn resent?

And so I thought about my last triathlon, and in fact every triathlon and road race I've ever done. I always feel perfectly fine leading up to race day; I'm not nervous the week before, and I'm confident in my athletic ability and preparation. Yet, somehow, when I get to the race, I always want to fold in half and disappear. Everyone is in better shape and more talented than I, and what was I doing thinking I could finish respectively, not embarrass myself, not end up in an ambulance?

Looking around, I feel afraid. I've done the training, I'm prepared mentally and physically, yet somehow I still collapse when I'm brought outside of my own known circle...my bubble pops. The feeling of feeling of inadequacy and terror is the same, whether in a race or at an audition.

I don't think this gut reaction will ever change; it's ingrained as a part of my personality, and it's simply the way I am. But, what I did last night, and what I've learned to do at races, it to recover quickly.

I look around, I allow myself to be scared, and then I stop looking outside and instead direct the gaze inward. I might not be a musical prodigy or an athletic superstar, but I have done the work, and I understand music--I know in my heart and soul what it takes to endure musically and cross the finish line without collapse.

So last night was a good experience. I ended up performing just fine, and I liked what Paula Robison had to say about my performance; she had some good suggestions that made the piece flow more naturally.

But moreover, I remembered that I have more than I need inside me to get through anything. Sometimes its hard to see that in yourself, even if it's so blatantly obvious in others. I'll do my best to remember that, for my next race or audition, but also in the everyday.

Last night was a success. A revelation, meeting new musicians, seeing old friends, and some awesome sushi to top it off.

I slept hard on the train ride back to New Brunswick.

Playing Tomorrow

So, tomorrow I'm performing the Copland Duo for flute and piano at the Diller Quaile School of Music. It's located at 24 E. 95th St in NYC. I'm playing in a masterclass for flute soloist Paula Robison. The masterclass takes place from 7-9 PM, and entry is $15. If you come, make sure you say hi!

A masterclass is when a student performs a piece for a professional and an audience and the professional gives a critique, or lesson, to the student in front of the audience. It can be relatively interesting, and Paula is known for being especially outlandish and energetic.

I can't say I like being in the guinea pig seat in front of a million flutists, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless...

Gross.

So, have you ever tasted rotten Accelerade? Let's just say that during the first recovery song in spinning this morning, when I took my first, LONG swig of my supposed fresh, cold water, what I tasted instead prompted something akin to the recent Swedish You Tube phenomenon:



The weird thing is that it was only 36 hours old, and the stuff doesn't go bad that quickly when opened in the refrigerator, or of course when unopened...so what is it about leaving it in a water bottle in the trunk of my car that makes it taste so vile? Normal Gatorade wouldn't have been a problem, I don't think.

I came back and made it through class without any more incidents, but even now, 10 hours later, I can still taste the remnants of what seemed to be mold mixed with vomit mixed with something I probably shouldn't mention.

I'll remember to wash my bottle next time.

A New Day

A new day, a renewed sense of breath.

Spinning was great this morning, the music I picked worked perfectly this time.

Life as a whole may not feel exactly right these days, but there are little bits of perfection in the every day that are great.

The bike ride and run yesterday, good spinning classes and flute lessons, the taste of well-deserved cereal in the morning, the phone calls and emails from friends all over the world, and the ability to fall asleep and then wake up and see with perspective.

This weekend I go home to Louisiana for the wedding of one of my first and best friends; the weekend away is just what I need and I'm looking forward to everything- from the visits with family and friends, to the wedding itself, and even to the solitude and forced study time of the plane.

Thanks for all the help and words of wisdom. I might not have responded or picked up my phone, but know that I appreciate it nonetheless.

Sometimes the talking distracts and does good, but other times it's just dwelling on the impossible. Sometimes I don't have the words, but the silent and virtual understanding nod of the head help just as much and more than any conversation possibly could.

So thank you for all of the above and for everything else. Today, I can smile.

Am I allowed to say I wish I had never met certain people?

Am I? Is it valid to really, sincerely wish you could turn back the clock? Is it okay to say that I would give up everything triathlon, the whole Man of Iron, and all the marathons half marathons and 5ks...I would give it all up to have my life back the way it was. I would gladly be 30 pounds heavier and not be able to run a mile without an elliptical machine just to have an afternoon at the park with Phil and Baruch.

And why did it take me so long? What the hell is the matter with me that I want what I can't have and don't want what I do?

I miss my dog. I miss my best friend. I feel so unbelievably abandoned. I know I deserve it, and so I can't be especially angry. But I guess I am...I am because before, I was there for him, even if I shouldn't have been. And now? He's not there for me.

And the worst part is that I understand and I know he has every right to do whatever he wants to do, regardless of anything else. I understand perfectly; he made it clear that there are no ties.

Except that there are. There are the ties of being close to someone; there are the responsibilities of being a close friend--a best friend, someone who has always been there over five years of ups and downs...even if you can't always be there anymore, you should still be there sometimes. 5 phone calls in a row means that there is a need; it doesn't mean I'm just being stubborn and trying to badger or force a conversation. Fuck, what if there was an emergency?

And I haven't written anything here for a long time, relative to usual. I've had all these fun, lighthearted posts that I wanted to share...about me being an idiot for the second week in a row and doing both a speed workout and lifting weights before the 2 spin classes I teach on Thursday nights--and the ensuing pain and hunger...and about masters swimming and smelling like chlorine in a bar...and about everything and nothing else.

But then I get home and I don't want to write those posts anymore. I don't want to write anything because I don't want to be the sad clown and I also don't want to be just plain sad. But the thing is...I am sad. I'm so sad that I'm practicing and I'm playing scales with tears running down my face and it hurts so much I could throw up.

And the only thing that makes me feel better is being surrounded by people or playing the flute or running...and so I do those things...but there is still that time at night and in the morning and so many other times during the day when I'm alone...and I don't exactly know how to handle the hurt.

I realize that I can't seem to get close to anyone, boy and girl alike. I have fun with people; I laugh and joke and have a couple drinks, but damn there isn't much of a bond.

I know people think it's weird to put things like this online, and maybe it is. But, I can't seem to be able to talk to anyone else about it (not anyone's fault but my own)--and I have to get it out--so I don't know what choice I have. Sometimes he cares enough to read this and so maybe he'll be mad because I'm no longer even pretending to cover it up with euphemisms and metaphors...and maybe he'll think I'm even more pathetic and inappropriate then he already does...but the anonymity of not being face to face helps me somehow. And so where he used to be, I am now filling with Anne Frank Live: the Reality Blog, hopefully without the tragic ending.

I was too young before and I know everything I did wrong and I would never, in a million years, do it again. But what good does that do? How does that help make the one person who truly understands me listen again?

Time will pass, I know. And the truth is that a lot of the time I'm perfectly okay. I'm doing well in my classes; my flute playing sounds better and better; aside from me ignoring the necessity of long runs when a marathon is looming, training is going well--I'm in shape, even if I have a little belly. I'm going for a bike ride now and then I'll run and later I'll play the flute. I have lot of things going for me and I'm thankful; sometimes I'm even happy.

Jersey Shore Half Marathon

First, before I talk about the race...

I just want to mention that I went for a short bike ride on Saturday afternoon and it was AWESOME. I felt more comfortable on a bike than I've EVER felt before, and I just had a blast. The Brielle Bike Shop is amazing and set me up absolutely perfectly. I can't wait to get training on the thing...I think I've finally met my match on a bike. That 'WEEEE' feeling that you get when you're riding downhill or with the wind is so much fun. I love running and swimming, but the exhilaration you can get from a bike ride is just incomparable. It's being a kid again, but now we can ride further than the end of the block.

And so onto the race...

I don't really mind out-and-backs, but I gotta say...this course was really boring. There wasn't even ever a view of the ocean, which would be a big part of running a 'shore' race, right? The race wasn't organized very well and it was incredibly low tech, with no chips or timing mats or split clocks. I kind of like that because it feels less commercialized somehow, but it also can make for an annoying race now that we're used to such luxuries.

But, I still had a really good time racing (it's been a while!), and I even ran a bit better than I thought I would. I didn't come anywhere near my best (1:47), but I was closer to that than the 2:00 mark I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hit. I averaged an 8:38 pace, and kept the splits pretty close to that the whole time...I might have pushed it a bit too fast in the first few miles, but I think I did reasonably well. I was happy with the race considering how not-fast I feel right now, so now I just have to get faster...

I want to do a couple more halves before Philadelphia. I know I need to get the longer distance runs in too, but I really think racing is important to see what you can do and to just make you run faster than you would normally. You've got to run fast to run fast, right?

Here are the splits:
mile 1- 8:44
mile 2- 8:37
mile 3- 8:26
mile 4- 8:19
mile 5- 8:29
mile 6- 8:40
mile 7- 8:34
mile 8- 8:47
mile 9- 9:06
mile 10- 8:42
mile 11- 8:48
mile 12- 8:50
mile 13.1- 9:08
total - 1:53:16

The official results have me about 24 seconds slower, but since there were no chips, and I did a good job with starting my watch right at the line, I'm going to go with my time. I finished 15th out of 62 in my age group of Females 20-29 regardless, eh?

The night before, I went to a friend's house for a Mexican meal and drinks. It was fun, but I ate WAY too much because I was stupid hungry when I got there. I think I shoved an entire bag of lime chips down the hatch, plus 2 drinks, plus chicken and rice and vegetables, plus lots of cookies. We're talking two days worth of food. I don't know what got into me...aside from the food, of course. I was so full I couldn't move and my friends all thought I was drunk and didn't want to let me drive. Nope, not drunk, guys...just too full to be able to function properly. Kind of disgusting, I know, but also kind of funny.

So, I didn't sleep very well the night before because of mass quantities of food in my stomach and also because of a horrible sore throat. I thought I just had allergies ('tis DEFINITELY the season), but considering the amount of snot currently pouring out of my nose (where does it COME from??), I'm thinking I just have a cold. I didn't teach spinning this morning, so I got 12 freaking hours of sleep. Hopefully I'll get over this soon.

After the race I went to a party for my coach in celebration of his recent IronMan Wisconsin finish. They had driven me to the race as well, so I spent the whole day with them, it seemed. I hope they don't get sick of me! It was a beautiful afternoon and despite feeling like my head might explode from sinus pressure, I had a good time. So, a nice weekend training-wise and otherwise. I didn't get enough practicing in, so I'm a little uptight about my lesson today, but hopefully my teacher will take pity on me and my running-faster-than-I-can-run nose.

Hope everyone else's weekends went well too...

PS--Check out the picture--As Rainmaker pointed out, Type A strikes again...