Tonight, I (mostly) ran my first 5K (well, 3.5 miles so 5.63 kilometers) as part of the JP Morgan Chase Corporate Challenge. I signed up with my company and was one of 15,000 people from various companies who completed the course through Central Park.

I had to slow down to a walk more often than I would’ve liked since my allergies were bothering me and my throat was burning. I now have a nice cough and post-nasal drip to show for it, though. Still, I managed to finish 3.5 miles in just under 47 minutes, meaning that I’m doing a 13-minute mile when I split it between walking and running.

Afterward, a bunch of us went over to a pub to get some food and drinks. We got there about 8:10. They didn’t start serving us food until 9:40, at which time I had to leave to get to the subway (at 77nd and Lex) and take the 6 down to Astor Place (down by my old NYU stomping grounds) to get to the 9th Street PATH and take that back to NJ to get back to my car in Hoboken before the parking garage closed at 11. I got my car at 10:48.

So, until I had some of this peanut butter and jelly sandwich 3 minutes ago, I hadn’t eaten real food (Gatorade and a Special K bar don’t count) since lunch at noon, and had done a 5K in between. I have no appetite, but I ate half of the sandwich so that I don’t wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pains (it’s happened before when I told myself it was too late to eat dinner and skipped it after a day of physical exertion).

I’m glad that I did it, because I proved to myself that I could. But I’m angry that I couldn’t run the whole time because of my allergies. This just means I’ll be working to prove that on the treadmill - which won’t be hard because the treadmill is not asphalt, it doesn’t have hills, it’s not humid and covered in 15,000 other runners, and I can watch TV while I’m at it and not pay attention to how far I’ve gone or how fast I’m going.

Yes, it was good to do, but everything hurts (despite my stretching) and I am not feeling as tired or clear-headed as I thought I would in the aftermath. But that’s my problem, isn’t it?

On the brief walk from my office to the train station, I had a few moments of crazy sensory awareness. Or was this the closest I’ll come to a moment of Awareness? It was mostly auditory and visual. Eh, I don’t know. Anyway, I was aware - all at once - of:

Sound: helicopters overhead, the puffity-sucking sound of an old man smoking his pipe alongside me, the jangling of metal dog tags on a pair of dogs getting walked, seagulls crying, the rhythmic splashing of water against the dock, the soft sounds of my ballet-flat-clad footsteps compared to the clomping of the business men walking ahead of me, the old man speaking in Italian on his cell phone and repeating “ciao” over and over trying to get someone off the phone, the possibly-homeless man repeating, “Good evening, spare some change?” to every passerby, the wind whistling and rushing by my ears when it kicked up, rush-hour horn-honking a few blocks off…

Sights: the Hudson River catching the light of the late afternoon sun and splaying it along the train station and wood of the dock, long strips of sunlight cast onto the walkway from between the buildings to the west of the river, the tendrils of smoke from the old man’s pipe moving very slowly and thickly despite the windy day, the tessellations formed by the hexagonal stones of the walkway, the tips of my striped shoes appearing and disappearing rhythmically from under the hem of my skirt…

…reminding me of something Stephen Pinker wrote - that one of the most amazing things we do as true bipeds is walk upright. With every single step, we’re defying gravity and saving ourselves from falling by just a fraction of a second. A toddler learning to walk really is a big deal in those terms.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much in the olfactory sense group since I didn’t take my allergy medicine and am a congested girl.

In other news, I will be Twittering a bit (again, after my aborted efforts last year because it bored the crap out of me) every now and again. It will be an easy way to post quick stuff when I’m on vacation–or when I’m just really busy this week.

I feel compelled to do some Pilates and go running since my rock-climbing plans for tonight didn’t pan out. I happen to have gotten all addicted to a sport that requires a partner; this is highly uncharacteristic of me, but it happened. Tough. The friend with whom I climb regularly and have climbed regularly since September (”my climbing buddy”) is on the West coast at the moment and, thus, not able to belay for me. My efforts to arrange otherwise didn’t pan out for tonight, but I’m making an effort to arrange something for tomorrow night. If not, I will be doing a LOT of running. It’s just not as fun or rewarding or challenging. Boo-hiss.

I can’t believe it’s 9:00 already. I guess that’s what happens when you get home from work after 7, though. The hours run away like horses over the hill… to adapt and paraphrase a phrase. But something that will feel wonderful will be collapsing into my bed tonight and maybe getting rid of this headache. Ah, bed. Ah, slumber. You elusive temptresses.

I don’t even know how much time I’ll have to write in the next week. Seriously.

Today I drove my friend to the airport in the morning so he could catch his flight to San Francisco, and I will be flying out there to hang out with him next Wednesday. The seven days between now and then will be both interminable and far too short.

For example, I’ll be working every single day, including the weekend. That’s when I’ll be working the New York ComicCon to represent my company’s Shakespeare: The Manga Edition series. It should be pretty cool (if providing a little bit of geek overload - which I might even enjoy a bit if I didn’t get scared by people who are crazy hardcore about [insert comic book/graphic novel/manga/TV/movie series here] ) and the days should fly by since it will be busy.

Neil Gaiman is doing an appearance and signing sometime during the convention, but one part is a $500-a-ticket fundraiser for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the other (reading - $20 a ticket) is most likely going to have lines spilling out the door if it doesn’t sell out. Since I’m working Saturday and Sunday, Friday is my only free night this week (and I’d like to see my other friends before I disappear for about two weeks), I won’t be attending, as much as I enjoy Mr. Gaiman - and I do.

All that coolness doesn’t change the fact that I will have spent all the hours between noon and 8 pm (you know, hours when I could be taking care of things like laundry and shopping and packing) standing in a noisy convention center.

It just puts a lot more pressure on me to get things done in the evenings. My usual evening routine is to get home from work around 6/7pm, change into running clothes, run for 30-45 minutes or so, shower, eat, check email/RSS feeds, and then read or watch a movie until I fall asleep. Tonight, I was unable to adhere to that routine; I got home at 6:30, checked email quickly and then ran out to stores to get vitals like sunglasses, shorts, a couple of tank tops and such. I got home at 9:00 and ate some dinner (leftover spinach and a piece of toast - PATHETIC) then tackled email, checking tracking on some stuff I ordered for said trip (durable rock climbing pants since Old Navy cargo pants won’t cut it), put away purchases, did some cleaning… and now it’s 11:00. Where does the time go?

Somewhere I can’t see. And the reasons for my blindness may vary.

But I’m glad to know that the title of a mix CD I made provided the possible title for a story my friend is writing, that I am basically guaranteed to have non-stop fun during my vacation which makes everything coming up to it worthwhile, that the stress I’ll be feeling at work will be productive stress because I’ll be getting lots of things done, and that I’m going to go rock-climbing tomorrow and it will feel good.

• Violet is a repository of beautiful things. They sent me a “Penmanship” themed newsletter last week… and I am in absolute lust with these two items:

On the left, Cards for a Year… “40 cards and 42 envelopes. Each card is imprinted with an icon; text inside the card states the occasion.” Simple… perfect. I love the look and feel of these types of cards - just heavy white cardstock with a single iconic image. It plays right into my esthetic.

On the right, Punctuation Cards. Each card has punctuation marks letter-pressed onto it in bright colors. Striking!

• Then, there’s the new Portishead CD, “Third.” It’s been my soundtrack for the car/train/walk/computer since Saturday afternoon. It releases on April 28th, but some songs have been circulating on music blogs - and here are two that are in my top 4 from the album (so far):

  Portishead - Machine Gun
  

  Portishead -We Carry On
  

• Portishead will be performing at Coachella. So will a plethora of other musical acts I enjoy. Luckily, I will be attending Coachella, so I will get to benefit from all of these musical acts I enjoy performing in once place over a span of three days. Here’s another band I am looking forward to seeing - Cut Copy. They’ve a very retro 80’s feel to them which I enjoy… it’s not world-changing, but it’s fun. Especially around the 1:14 mark. I might be posting sample songs from several of other bands over the next few days:

  Cut Copy - Future
  

• I finally acted on the LibraryThing early reviewer email that I get every month and decided to throw my name in the hat for a few review copies of forthcoming books. I got an email today notifying me that I will be receiving one of them: Love Marriage by V.V. Ganeshananthan. It sounds right up my alley.

“‘In this globe-scattered Sri Lankan family, we speak of only two kinds of marriage. The first is the Arranged Marriage. The second is the Love Marriage. In reality, there is a whole spectrum in between, but most of us spend years running away from the first toward the second.’
The daughter of Sri Lankan immigrants who left their collapsing country and married in America, Yalini finds herself caught between the traditions of her ancestors and the lure of her own modern world. But when she is summoned to Toronto to help care for her dying uncle, Kumaran, a former member of the militant Tamil Tigers, Yalini is forced to see that violence is not a relic of the Sri Lankan past, but very much a part of her Western present. … (show rest)

While Kumaran’s loved ones gather around him to say goodbye, Yalini traces her family’s roots—and the conflicts facing them as ethnic Tamils—through a series of marriages. Now, as Kumaran’s death and his daughter’s politically motivated nuptials edge closer, Yalini must decide where she stands.

Lyrical and innovative, V. V. Ganeshananthan’s novel brilliantly unfolds how generations of struggle both form and fractures families.”

• Here’s a super creative move: this spiffy perfume tester technique from Givenchy. Elegant, eye-catching, and a bit unusual: ribbon. Three styles of ribbon, actually, each pre-printed with the name of the three fragrances in this new line (which they’re treating like a wine - complete with a vintage). Long enough that you can tie it around your wrist/hair/purse strap.

The fragrances themselves are a bit too strong, too floral and too “my summer mink is at the cleaners” for me (and I realize that that might mean something different to different people… I guess it’s my shorthand for something that’s cloyingly sweet and reminds me of extremely wealthy older women).

And yes, I did actually hear a woman utter that sentence once upon a time. It was surreal.

While driving back from doing some shopping with my friend Theresa (Nordstrom’s and Sephora - a girl’s gotta treat herself sometimes. I behaved myself and got some Sephora brand eyeshadow as well as my free birthday gift since I am part of their “insider’s” club thingie) we were listening to the oldies station.

Radio these days plays nothing I want to hear, so I’m all about NPR, the oldies station and my iPod. With those three, I’m guaranteed to have something interesting to listen to ALL the time.

The song that was just beginning to play was Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” We both let out a sort of squeak which apparently meant (in our personal friend language) that we were going to be singing along, ‘Wayne’s World’ style.

And we did. Boy, did we. I know it’s nothing new, but it’s been quite a while since that was the hotness (if ever it really was) and we still know all the words - like, really. We were not approximating sounds. I was impressed with us - all girlie shopping and then all spazzy like that. These are the moments that make life worth living.

Now, I must away to bed. I have to be in the office early tomorrow morning and I need to go running before that, so the only way to accomplish that is to get up at least 45 minutes earlier than usual. It’s not going to be fun.

Then again, I’m going to have plenty of fun later this month when I go out to California for Coachella and spend some time “up north” in San Francisco. More on that later…

I fully intended to come home, go running and then go shopping for spring sandals. But it’s raining. My wrist hurts. I would much rather get into bed and read a book while listening to the rain hitting the roof and the windows.

I think I’ll still go running (treadmill, indoors, Law & Order) but this might be a night to sit home, go to sleep early, and hope that tomorrow is sunnier - not in terms of weather, necessarily, but in terms of mood.

These songs seem appropriate listening choices:

The Dixie Nightingales - All I Need is Some Sunshine in My Life

Beth Orton - Don’t Need a Reason

Caetano Veloso - Cucurrucucu Paloma

Enjoy the tunes.