Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

I think I am mostly recovered from my post-play (Panache) hangover (although I still haven't unpacked my bag of show supplies) so let the blogging commence! (Truthfully, I also had to mentally recover from my colonoscopy, which in many ways was no big woo but I was dreading it SO much but I won't subject the blogiverse to any more about that, suffice it to say all, thankfully, is well on that front...er, end?). And I'm also finished with some work presentations and an awesome return gig of Pigeons From hell, so hey, here's this thing called "free time." "Seriously, you're going to spend less time looking at dresses on Modcloth?" (Okay this is an unrelated "Panache" photo that I don't think I've shared yet and I love Chad's expression and the view of my hair. I tried an actual 'do!) Actually, it feels a little like New Years' to me so some "resolutions" seem in order. Or maybe more accurately a ...

I have a tradition, at least in my mind, of reflecting on, and hopefully blogging about, what I've learned from each show I've acted in. So now that I have a free evening, which is rare (to slightly misquote my onstage alter ego, Kathleen, in "Panache") between performances (so yes, you, yes YOU can still come see us this weekend) I want to chronicle what I have learned from playing Kathleen and being a part of "Panache." Words are scrumptious. And also sometimes evil. The words of "Panache" have dazzled, overwhelmed, confounded and entranced me. Sometimes with the pure number of them that I have attempted to memorize. Sometimes with their beauty (scrumptious, relentless, glorious, desolation) and their banality. And their difficulty. Turns out, I had no idea how to pronounce "tempestuous." I actually hate talking on the phone and am probably holding this upside down...but, ACTING! Quick costume changes are fraught with dange...

It's been two weeks since I ran my first marathon. (Yes, I did say first , implying there may be more. Hey, I've already run 50.5 miles since the marathon, although that has been over 11 days.) I still can't believe I actually did it. AND I did it pretty successfully. I finished in 4 hours, 16 minutes, and 34 seconds (4:16:34). So I didn't just finish, but I finished in a rather respectable time for a 47-year-old woman. (My age-graded time, which is a magical mathematical formula that takes age and sex into account, was 3:54:03). For a little comparison, the average time for the 7,485 people who finished the marathon was 4:24:07. My goal was to finish in 4:15:00, so I was pretty close to achieving that. I started with a goal of beating Oprah's 1994 marathon time of 4:29:20 (for some reason that's a big standard in the amateur runner's world) but as my training progressed I was pretty sure I should be able to beat that. Turns out, beating Oprah's time...

...and all through the house, I've been flitting around trying not to go too crazy. I actually do feel pretty ready, or at least as ready as I can expect to be. My biggest regret is that I didn't find more time for blogging! So I figure at least a last-minute post is better than nothing. It is very surreal to be at this moment...all these weeks of waiting and preparation and here I am. It's also surreal to think that I AM ACTUALLY COMMITTED TO RUNNING A MARATHON. There are many, many things that if 47-year-old Amy had told 17-year-old Amy, I would have disdainfully flicked the fringes on my denim jacket at. But this marathon thing has to top the list. I've learned these have quite a few carbs for their caloric bang.  I've read many inspirational things during training about why people run marathons. I kept hoping that I would come up with a similarly deep and moving reason, but I really have nothing besides it seems like I should and I think I can. Why ...

I'm about to attempt my first marathon in just a little over 2 weeks, and I am officially tapering. I've written about tapering before, as I was approaching my first ever half marathon ( Tip Tapering Away ). Back then, I was a little ambivalent about it. I saw it mainly as a time when I was supposed to be resting up for my approaching race, but I was worried about slacking off too much. Oh the naivety of inexperience! Actually, come closer so I can tell you all about it... Let me take a moment for a little exposition, because I tend to assume everyone knows how long a marathon, and therefore a half marathon, is. A marathon is 26.2 miles, so a half is 13.1. Finishing a half marathon is a completely worthy endeavor, and I'm proud that I've finished six. But while a full marathon is mathematically simply twice as much distance, I can now say, even without having finished one yet, that a full marathon is way more than the twice of the effort and experience. In...

Watching a video of one of my performances, whether it's of me attempting to be musical or theatrical, is almost always disappointing at best, and depressing at worst. I/we never sound or look as good we I thought we did. Or, more accurately, even if it seems like we might have done a pretty good job, the tech at our disposal (meaning, my little yellow camcorder) just isn't going to be able to robustly capture our performance in all it's glory, including sonically and visually. Specifically, I've tried to accept that this means I will never be able to see myself all that well while I'm drumming or hear the bass drum. But I still keep recording our performances when I can, because it's a means, if imperfect, to relive the moment. And sometimes I'm viscerally reminded of something pretty powerful and awesome, such as: PEOPLE F$%KING DANCED AT OUR LAST CLUSTERFLOCK SHOW AT THE MINNESOTA MUSIC CAFE!!! You're just going to have to believe that the...

While the popular inspirational saying "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey," may sometimes be true, sometimes it IS about the starting point. At least when your journey is round trip. This is a life lesson I learned recently at the Minnesota State Fair. A trip on the Sky Ride seemed pretty innocuous, even after a couple of glasses of sickeningly sweet Minnesota Wine. Get on, sit down, enjoy the lights of the Midway, get off when the ride is over. Even I couldn't get lost, right? Only I didn't just need a sense of direction, but I also needed to be paying attention without unthinkingly responding to cues. In other words, I "knew" that I had purchased a round trip ticket, but I didn't stop to think how that meant that there would be more than one place to end the ride. So when the ride stopped, I jumped off, without thinking about how I wasn't at the same location where I had started. That's when I learned an...

Just a few days ago I achieved another personal record and did a training run of (slightly more than) 21 miles. Yes, I'm a little stunned. I did a run that was long enough to be old enough to drink. (Okay, that may not make any sense but that joke is a classic so it's staying). A collection of Touchy-Feely running photos And I still don't think I've ever experienced the fabled "Runner's High." Mostly, during a run, especially a long run, I'm likely to just feel bored, or annoyed, or even a little panicky (as in, "Am I really going to survive this?") At some point it does start to feel surreal (around 2.5 hours) as I lose sense of time and think "My God, how long have I been doing this? What day did I start this? What day is it now?" So I don't think I've experienced euphoria while running, but post-run, I'm prone to feeling many of the feels. As I wrote in my July 14, 2015 post after my first Half Marathon rac...

Last Saturday, I ran 20 miles — 20.32 actually. This is a milestone (unintentional wordplay, honestly) that I never thought I'd achieve, or even want to. So I want to take a little time to savor and reflect on this achievement. And of course, the best way that I know how to do that is by blogging about it, so I can share on Facebook. I think I look super white because of the sunscreen. Yes, there were the "Day Of" posts on Facebook, both to my whole Facebook universe and just to my first time Marathon runners group. It was hard to decide what to post to what audience —a ll of Facebook got my sweaty selfie (see above), while the runners group was treated to a link to my running stats (Average pace: 10:20 min/mile). And yes, there was also contemplative, celebratory drinking. Surprisingly, the drinking didn't commence until several hours after my run. I knew that once the libations began flowing, my day would be pretty much done, so I took a nap instead. Wh...

It's week 9. I AM OFFICIALLY OVER HALF-WAY THROUGH MY TRAINING PLAN, PEOPLE. This makes me proud (I've run my longest distance ever, 16.5 miles), scared (this means the marathon is looming, plus I still have to run 20+miles training runs to do), confused and annoyed (how can I be gaining weight? yeah, I know I'm thin but still, GAINING?!) and obsessed and TIRED. Actually, I totally know what to do. Eat. Drink. Bitch. Repeat.  It's hard to imagine that I could be more excited that tomorrow is a "Rest Day" in my marathon training plan. That means NO running!!! (Also, for me, no exercise beyond walking). The plan I'm following allocates two rest days a week. It's also hard for me to imagine that when Chad and I started our 16-week training plan, we thought that I would resist taking rest days and that we would end up fighting about that. Well, we've certainly had our fights in the last 5 weeks, but not about me skipping rest days. Ah, i...

Once again, I've been suffering from a bit of Writer's Block (perhaps more accurately described as "Writer's Chip.") As a fallback, I was considering doing a list of things that make me happy. And then today I discovered (through doing research while trying to come up with trivia questions for my kids online book club) that August is Happiness Happens Month. So the Blogging Deities are clearly directing me to share with you, dear readers, the small pleasure of life that I am currently grateful for: Halo Top ice cream: Ironically, I tried this after listening to my friend Carissa detail how much she hated it. Perhaps since I’m not an ice cream connoisseur, I enjoy it. It may not hold up to “real” ice cream but it tastes real to me and it’s high in protein (which is potentially good for marathon training) and low in calorie which leaves more room for booze calories. (Only food/consumption item on the list, I promise, as this post could so easily be all about foo...

Today I happily stumbled across the knowledge (a perk of being a librarian) that it's National French Fries Day. To celebrate, I feel morally obligated to share this unflattering selfie of me rocking a sweatshirt that's completely preposterous for someone my age to be wearing. It's age-inappropriate because until I Googled it today, I didn't know what the saying "Fries Before Guys" really means. Thank you, Urban Dictionary! Luckily it just refers to the unwritten law that your fries (female friends) should always come before guys you are "romantically" interested in. In retrospect, it's an obvious play on the slogan "Bros before hoes." Having to choose friends over "dating" interests isn't something that comes up too frequently in my world, but it's a sentiment I can get behind...girl/lady power and all that. I obtained this awesome sweatshirt from a much-younger than me theater friend, Emily. She must have see...

I'm training for my first (and only?) marathon, and it's Week 5 of the 16 week plan that I'm following. So do I say I'm " in training Week 5" (sounds a little like being "in rehab") or " on Week 5"? Preposition confusion aside, the point is that my first marathon is on the horizon and I'm trying to prepare to successfully finish it. (Defining "success" could be a whole separate post, but for now let's go with "crossing the finish line under my own power and not in an emergency vehicle"). I feel Week 5 is significant and worthy of a blog post because a) I have a little free time to indulge in writing and reflecting and drinking at the same time and b) this is the first week of training that has really felt like " Training " (yes, in bold with a capital "T") and not my normal life. Up until now, my training plan has been all about building a basic ability to be able to run slowly for a mode...

This is the 100th post of my blog! If my blog was a television show, it could be syndicated. Actually, while "researching" (googling) that I discovered the syndication threshold has been lowered to 88. This shirt is so old it's survived a couple of blogs Either way, 100 posts is a milestone and I can start officially having reruns of my posts (which I've already been doing and just calling it "repurposing," a term I learned through work). And I won't hide behind humble bragging, I am honestly impressed by many of my posts and pleasantly surprised when I re-read them. I have no illusions about making a living as a writer, but I think many of posts are pretty well-written and entertaining. More importantly than a quest for quality, blogging helps me sort through what I'm thinking and feeling and capture moments that are otherwise all too ephemeral. Blogging helps calm me down a bit, at least temporarily, and helps me feel a little more grounded...

Writing about my dad on Father's Day seems like a natural fit, but I'm not sure I'm up to feeling too many intense feels. As my dad died just over four years ago and was a bit of a "character," the danger of being maudlin and also slipping into PG-13+ uncomfortable territory is rather high. But with a little discretion I think I can safely share some memories of my dad (in no particular order). I used to love going to the Sherwood Inn outside of Fall Creek (sadly, now closed) with my dad for pork hocks and sauerkraut. Clearly, I did not start out life as an almost vegetarian. I think I may have been the only family member willing to eat this delicacy with my dad. I still have a pretty high food gross out tolerance to this day Yep, I went there. I don't think we had any parsley though.... I still love sauerkraut. My dad was a good tipper and always polite to wait staff. At least I remember my mom frequently complimenting my dad for that trait (and per...

Oscar (our dachshund) turned 17 this week. No, that doesn't mean he's 119 in people years (that 1 dog year = 7 people years formula is only for the first couple of years of a dog's life). According to Pedigree dog age calculator, Oscar is only 84. That actually does surprise me because 84 seems a little young. I'd at least put Oscar at 90. However Oscar's age is measured, he's old, and his birthday is bittersweet. We know we don't have much time with him left, and watching him age has been very difficult. But I want to concentrate on the bitter, not the sweet, in this post. While our hearts are breaking during this long slow goodbye, we know we have been so lucky to have our Oscar Dude for so long. We got Oscar a little over 16 years ago in March of 2001 in the pre-ubiquitious internet days from a dachshund rescue organization. He was 9 months old and his family was giving him up because they were moving to a place where they couldn't have him....

At a recent web conference that I attended for work, I learned about Road IDs. These are identification tags, usually worn on wristbands, so that runners and other sporty folk who might encounter ninjas, aliens, memory loss, or other calamities while "on the road" engaging in their hobby can have a means for whoever might find them to be able to tell who they are and who they should call. Never one to miss out on a justification to buy some jewelry and to declare to the world "Hey, I'm a runner!" I got online and ordered one for me and one for Chad. With my "fivehead" (big forehead) I look a little like Groot Deciding what to put on our tags was quite laborious, as you could have up to five lines of text, including some type of  short inspirational saying. While having a slogan wasn't required, I couldn't pass up on the opportunity. I've always loved mottoes and whatnot. I think that's part of the reason I loved Star Wars so much...

This week The Current (our local public radio music station) did a countdown of the Top 893 Essential Artists. The list was compiled based on Top 10 lists sent in by listeners. I didn't participate, but can't stop thinking about and talking about their list. Who would be on my Top 10? I'm thinking purely in terms of who was essential to Amy becoming Amy, and not worrying about who was essential to all of music, and I'm stymied. Essential when and for what?  So since it's our anniversary weekend, I decided to make the question a little easier and limit it to artists who have been essential to Chamy over our 28 years (22 married) together. I'm not claiming Chad would agree with all my choices, but hey, it's my blog. Top 10 Essential to Chamy Artists (in no particular order) The Hold Steady Bruce Springsteen  John Hiatt Jason Isbell The Indigo Girls Counting Crows Willy Porter The Sudden Lovelys  Ben Glaros The Muppets Hmmm, are we singin...

Facebook congratulated me today for having 650 friends. Not sure why 650 is a notable number (and I actually have 657 at the moment) but I'll follow Facebook's lead and take a moment to think, and blog, about what it means—and doesn't mean— to have 650 plus "friends" on Facebook. In some ways it is a little mind boggling, especially when I think about how there were only about 250 people in my entire high school. Of course, not all these 650 friends are real people...some are duplicate accounts and a few belong to pets and some are entirely made up. I certainly don't think all of these "friends" are friends in the sense of people I could reach out to in an emergency, or even go spontaneously grab a drink with if I was feeling lonely. In fact, most of my actual friends who do fit this description aren't even on Facebook or (unlike me) barely use it. The reserve is also true...while I would feel bad if one of my Facebook friends posted about bei...

As the weekend draws to a close, I'm feeling a little sad that I didn't go to Art-A-Whirl. In case you aren't a Twin Citian, that's a free local NE Minneapolis art and music festival. I didn't have any plans to go or any art or music that I particularly wanted to see, but I think I am highly susceptible to "Fear of Missing Out" (FoMO) syndrome. If you haven't heard of FoMO before, simply do a quick search of the interwebs and you will find all types of information on it. It's basically just what it sounds like, the worry that you are passing up on a chance to do something cool. Social media seems to get most of the blame for FoMO, as it constantly shows us all the amazing things other people are doing and highlighting how they are having more fun then we are. While I can certainly see how social media could exacerbate FoMO, I don't think it's the cause of it for me. I think I had it as a youngster out on the tundra – long before social...