Halfarsed

I forgot to post about it at the time, but I completed the Golden Driller Half-Marathon in Tulsa on April 18.

I finished in 2:57:14, which isn’t the best time I’ve ever posted in a half-marathon, but it wasn’t the worst, either. If my records are right, I’ve run a total of seven half-marathons: three faster than this one, and three slower. I made a couple of strategic errors during the race, hadn’t run in two weeks because I was recovering from shin splints, and hadn’t run a half-marathon since 2012; in light of those obstacles, I really can’t complain.

I haven’t run a step since then. Mercifully, my shins didn’t do anything too heinous during the race, but the next day was a different story, and I decided I’d pushed my luck far enough, so I am a little over halfway through a self-imposed one-month recovery period.

I think it’s working; the past few days, I haven’t had any pain at all.

My plan is to get back on the bike later this week, start phasing in some strength training this weekend, and if I’m still feeling good two weeks from now, I’ll allow myself three very slow, very gentle miles and see how it goes.

Emily

Tough run

I went out for what was supposed to be a 10-mile run today. I wound up cutting it to 9.6 miles because I simply could not go any farther.

This was less discouraging than you might expect.

The purpose of a training run is twofold. One purpose is to build mileage. The other purpose is to test-drive strategies ahead of race day. Today’s run accomplished both. It was 1.6 miles longer than my last long run (and only four-tenths of a mile shorter than I’d planned), and it revealed some weaknesses that I need to shore up.

Weakness 1: Hydration. This will be a non-issue on race day, because they’ll have plenty of water available at regular intervals, but on long training runs by myself, hydration poses logistical issues, and today, I wound up having to walk the last mile to ward off muscle cramps that were almost certainly the result of inadequate fluid and electrolyte intake.

Weakness 2: Nutrition. My pre-run meal (oatmeal with brown sugar and pecans) was great, but I failed to pay attention to my carb intake during the run, and by the time I realized I was crashing, the fruit snacks I’d brought along just weren’t enough to get the job done. I’ll order some gels and plan on using one every four miles on race day so I don’t hit the Wall.

Weakness 3: Shins and knees. KT tape bugs me, but I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and use it on long runs, because shin splits and sore illiotibial bands are no fun.

Today’s run was unduly challenging because Google Maps routed me onto extremely rough, overgrown terrain. This cost me time and likely contributed to my soreness. I also encountered more hills than I was expecting, which didn’t help.

In light of all that, I’m not terribly upset about being too tired and sore to finish out my planned mileage with a couple of laps around the block once I got home. Nine and a half miles of hill work and trail running is a lot more difficult than ten flat, fast miles, so I’d say I’m ready enough for race day and can go forward with my plan to spend the next two weeks tapering and cross-training.

Emily

Phantom loads

About 25 years ago, I read an article in Home Power magazine about eliminating phantom loads — those small, easily overlooked wastes of electricity that yield no discernible benefits: microwave clocks, LEDs that stay on constantly, speakers that draw power even when the stereo is off, etc.

I had my hair trimmed from shoulder-length to a bob last weekend. I expected it to feel lighter and healthier and take less time to wash and detangle. What I did not expect was to eliminate a mental phantom load in the process.

I’ll explain.

As a high-masking neurodivergent woman, I spend a lot of time actively, consciously managing low-level sensory input and casual social interactions that most people think about rarely, if at all. That requires a lot of mental energy.

You can think of it like energy efficiency in a home: the neurotypical brain is running the equivalent of a well-insulated house full of Energystar appliances, with LED bulbs in all the light fixtures. For my neurodivergent brain, the metaphorical house is actually an uninsulated pole barn full of vintage appliances and incandescent lights. It does the same job, but it requires a lot more energy to do it.

Long hair was a phantom load, because it required me to make daily decisions: down or up? Braid or bun? What kind? These were not important decisions, but they were decisions nonetheless, and as such, they drew small amounts of mental energy while yielding basically nothing in return.

It occurred to me this morning that bobbed hair is less demanding. It requires no decisions; I just towel-dry it, mousse it, and ignore it for the rest of the day.

I can’t update my brain to make it run more efficiently, but this haircut — or, more accurately, what this haircut represents — has inspired me to perform a sort of energy audit on my daily activities to see how many other phantom loads I can find and eliminate.

I’ll keep you posted.

Emily

Adorable.

I returned to school today after being off all last week for spring break. Marley, who is very much a creature of habit, was very excited to see me when I came home for lunch.

Marley and I have a daily routine: I come home for lunch, drink a protein shake, and then head to the bedroom to take a little power nap. Marley escorts me down the hall, then hops up on the bed and curls up next to me. If I come home for lunch and don’t spend a few minutes snuggling with her, Marley gets her feelings hurt.

Today, when it was cuddle time, Marley literally herded me down the hall.

Mind you, there is not a single herding breed in Marley’s background. We had her DNA tested, and she is a mix of Chihuahua, schnauzer, and poodle — but today, she was clearly herding. She circled me until I started moving toward the hall, then led for a few steps, glanced back, decided I wasn’t moving fast enough, circled back, nudged my ankles from behind, galloped ahead again, and repeated the process once more. I wish I’d thought to get video of it, because it was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. About the only trick she didn’t do was the Border collie crouch, and I’m sure if she’d known that move, she would have done it, too.

I can only assume that she learned this behavior from Ramona and Honey, who both have hefty doses of shepherd DNA and are always trying to herd me around the house in hopes of being taken for a walk.

Emily

Absolutely random

I got two packages from Amazon today. One was a pair of cargo pants I’d ordered Friday. The other was a bubble mailer with nothing in it.

My initial assumption was that somebody mistakenly sealed the mailer without putting my order in it, but then I double-checked my account, and my only outstanding order is an autoshipment of yellow tickets that hasn’t left the shipping center yet.

I am baffled.

Emily

Consumption

I stumbled across a cache of those Buzzfeed shopping listicles the other day and got to thinking about all the ways people allow themselves to be manipulated into buying crap they don’t need.

With the economy heading into the toilet again, now feels like a good time to share some of the ways I’ve inoculated myself against mindless consumerism and the marketing tactics used to promote it.

  1. I prioritize comfort and practicality over aesthetics. I’m going to wear hiking cargos, a T-shirt or fitted mockneck, and a cardigan or hoodie no matter where I am or what’s in style, so I have absolutely no reason to buy anything else. (This also saves me money on fancy events, because if I can’t roll up in cargos and 26-year-old Birkenstocks, I’m not going.)
  2. Related: I don’t wear makeup. It feels weird, and I don’t have the executive functioning necessary to get up 20 minutes early to put it on, so I don’t bother. This also saves me money on storage systems; instead of cabinets and train cases full of makeup, I keep a pair of tweezers, a pair of nail scissors, and a tube of lip balm in a 1978 Avon “Achievement Award” coffee cup that I bought for a dime at the thrift store.
  3. I will not buy a new appliance if a vintage option exists. This is something I started about two years ago, and it’s served me well. I love my 1973 Osterizer and my 1980 Maytag wringer washer.
  4. Every time I am tempted to buy new storage containers, I declutter first. This keeps me from wasting money on containers that just enable excess consumption by making the evidence easier to hide.
  5. I buy things based on my own needs and wants, not other people’s expectations. Some of my choices might surprise or confuse other people, but they don’t live here or make the mortgage payments, so I don’t care.

This approach obviously isn’t going to work for everybody, but it works for me, and some of it might resonate with somebody else, too.

Emily

Little treat

I made myself a little treat today. I don’t usually go in for viral recipes, especially if they’re promoted as “weight-loss hacks,” but I stumbled across one last week that sounded like a cheap DIY version of Yoplait Whips, which I like, but which I rarely buy because they’re dverpriced and awfully packaging-intensive for the amount of nutritional value you get.

I finally got a hand free to try the recipe tonight, and it worked really well. I’m not sure what to call it, but it was really easy and did, in fact, turn out tasting a lot like Yoplait. All I did was whisk a small package of strawberry Jell-O into a cup of boiling water, let it sit for a couple of minutes, and then whisk in a cup of plain Greek yogurt. I refrigerated it for a couple of hours while I was watching Astrid on the stationary bike and ended up with a near-perfect recovery snack to follow a workout.

Emily

Mandela or Jell-O?

I follow several Gen X-themed accounts and pages on social media, and a recurring topic of conversation among members of my generation is the Mandela Effect. The Mandela Effect is the phenomenon of shared false memories among large groups of unconnected people.

Sometimes the Mandela Effect is truly weird. For instance, why do so many of us — me included — remember the Monopoly mascot wearing a monocle, the Fruits of the Loom spilling out of a cornucopia, and the comedian Sinbad playing a genie in a nonexistent film called Shazam? (I can explain the first two rationally, but that last one is just bizarre. I have a specific visual memory of that nonexistent tape at the video store, and I don’t know why.)

Other times, things that are described as the Mandela Effect have obvious explanations. For instance, there is nothing strange or sinister about people thinking the Berenstain Bears were called the “Berenstein” Bears; it’s just a spelling error created by the human instinct to adjust an anomaly to fit an expected pattern.

One example of the Mandela Effect that’s been making the rounds again this week is the widespread belief that Ed McMahon used to run around handing out checks for Publishers Clearing House.

This one isn’t the Mandela Effect so much as the Jell-O Effect: If the brand name of a new product is catchier than the generic term for that product, the brand name will become the colloquial term for all similar products subsequently introduced in that category. This is why all fruit-flavored gelatin, regardless of brand, is Jell-O; all red plastic cups sold at keggers are Solo cups; all disposable snotrags are Kleenexes; and, yes, all direct-mail sweepstakes are Publishers Clearing House. American Family Publishing — the company McMahon actually represented — was a Johnny-come-lately with a longer name that we couldn’t be arsed to remember, because we didn’t care.

A lot of people my age like to cite an episode of The Golden Girls as evidence that McMahon actually did work for PCH and that some mysterious overlord somewhere is trying to gaslight an entire generation into believing otherwise.

In the oft-referenced scene, Sophia prank-calls the notoriously gullible Rose and poses as a PCH representative, telling her that she has won the sweepstakes and that Ed McMahon will be coming to her house to deliver her check. The fact that McMahon never worked for PCH is part of the joke: Rose is too naive and too excited to question Sophia’s story, even when it contains a glaring error. It’s the Golden Girls equivalent of Han trying to impress Luke by telling him that the Falcon made the Kessel run in twelve parsecs or the Third Doctor claiming to fix something by reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. People who don’t get that end up becoming part of the joke, as they reveal themselves to be as gullible as Rose.

Emily

Camera update.

After some consideration, I opted to postpone replacing my DSLR for another year or two. Mirrorless cameras are starting to crowd out DSLRs, and I want to see where this goes and spend some time doing my homework before I invest a grand or more in a new camera.

That said, I still need something that focuses faster than my tired old Rebel, especially when I’m trying to get cute pictures of the dogs at the prison — where my iPhone is not allowed — so I did a little poking around online and decided to order a Kodak Pixpro AZ528. It gets good reviews and has several features I think I’ll use, so hopefully it will prove to be a good investment. It’s supposed to come in tomorrow, so I’ll be able to spend some time this week playing with it. We’ll see how it goes.

Emily

Yeesh.

I have GOT to get a new camera. Ron asked me to shoot an assignment for him this morning while he was in Albuquerque for the state basketball tournament, and my Canon POS Rebel’s laggy autofocus really showed its arse.

I still managed to get a couple of usable shots, but it’s time for a new camera. This one wasn’t great when I bought it, and at 13 years old, it has not improved with age.

Neither has Canon as a brand, apparently; online reviews are telling me the autofocus issue is an ongoing problem. (Come on, Canon. You had ONE JOB.) Meanwhile, the Nikon D7500, which runs about a grand for body and basic lens, gets good reviews, and adjusted for inflation, it’s about $300 less than I spent for my first Canon back in 2005.

Alternately, given the amount of time I don’t spend taking pictures these days, a bridge camera might not be a bad idea; the main place I take my camera these days is the prison, where I am not allowed to use my phone, and where a bulky DSLR isn’t terribly practical. Kodak makes several bridges for under $300, and they all get good reviews. Maybe I’ll pick one up next time I’m in Amarillo and just kick that can down the road a little bit.

One way or the other, I need to replace the Rebel, and this is probably as good a time as any to do it, since I’m on break and have time to take it out and experiment with it.

Emily

Sustainability on a shoestring

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