Reverse PR: A How To

So, you’ve run at least one previous marathon and want to know “How can I run a marathon again and get a reverse PR (that is, run actually slower than your current best time)?” 

Well, lucky for you I was able to accomplish this highly laudable feat this weekend and I’m ready to share my cornucopia of knowledge so that you can do it to. Ready? Here we go!

TRAINING : The “experts” will tell you that you need to religiously follow a training plan. Do not believe them/ be too lazy to believe them. Forget about those pesky prescribed “long runs” of 16, 18, 20 or even the laughable 22 miler! Instead simply run your monthly half marathon you’ve signed up for, go to some spin classes, and delude yourself into believing that you can just wing it. (Spoiler alert: You can't.)

"Hello, I'm Otto. I'm here to make sure you never get a quiet nights rest."

REST: Getting proper rest is in an important facet of proper marathoning. So in order to reverse PR I recommend the following: get not one, but two new jobs the week of the marathon. This makes it effectively impossible for you to get off work early and make the long drive to your race destination at a reasonable hour. If I were you, I'd leave work at 5, get stuck behind multiple car accidents at Brigham City, and then hit massive traffic in SLC commuting down to the USU/BYU football game. 

While sitting in stand still traffic for two hours have your chocolate lab puppy have a diarrhea accident in the back of your car – this will really take your traffic stress level down and put you at ease. Or cause you to burst into uncontrollable tears. That's just a suggestion, but it worked for me!
Four and half hours later (when it should be a two hour drive), arrive in Orem at your sister’s house.

NUTRITION: At this point you are so frustrated, and its 9:30 at night, so that sitdown pasta dinner is out of the question. Instead get a Happy Meal at the gas station. Eat your four chicken nuggets and curse the fact that this “healthy food initiative” (that you blame on Michelle Obama)  has made it so McDonalds has given you a total of four fries and stuck in a bag of disgusting apple slices. Curse again.

LAY OUT YOUR GEAR: Get to your parents house at midnight. Begin to lay out your gear and realize you’ve left a lot of stuff a home: your hat, your iphone arm band, your toothbrush….Be even angrier. Try to go to sleep for four hours. Its futile.

RACE DAY:  Wake up. Feel like trash already. Drink a diet coke and head to the bus. Its freezing. Try to cuddle with your sister. Realize she has 0% body fat and is actually making you colder. Huddle by the bonfire - this is great because now you can smell like sweat and smoke for the next four hours. Start race. Hate life at mile one. Because you don’t have your arm band, decide to stick your iphone in your sports bra. Around mile 18 its gets too sweaty and shorts out. You have no music for the next 8 miles. Cry. Pull off to an aid station. Ask how long it will be till a rescue van comes. Cry. See your mortal enemy. Decide your mortal enemy can’t beat you. MUST PULL SELF TOGETHER.

(someone else took this picture, I was to busy praying for a swift end to take pictures. Snow Canyon is cool) 

(i look like death you say? I feel like death! .5 miles from the finish)

With renewed sense of purpose, start running again, music-less and angry. Begin repeating mantra to self, “Can’t let enemy beat me. Can’t let enemy beat me.” The last 6 miles fly by this way.

At long last you will make it to the finish. You will want to die. Find the diet coke stand. Get one. Feel restored to full health. Find dad volunteering in Life Flight tent. Let him tell you how awesome you are. Feel good. See other marathoners eating pulled pork sandwiches from the Texas Road House stand. Throw up in your mouth. Exit runner’s area. See sister Anna, she has finished 20 minutes before you. She is your hero. Find your mother and sister Kiersten, they are your saviors, they have brought you flip flops and hugs. Hobble to your friend Brandalee’s house, she is rad and has a cute little gift for you. Feel guilty accepting it as you just had a really embarrassing finish time. Hobble to your car. Go home.

RECOVERY:Your mom will make you an ice bath. The one minute in there is worse than the entire marathon. But it works, so do it. Then get in your mom’s Jacuzzi bath tub, fully clothed, with your sister. Add bubbles. Cry, because you're so glad is over, but it hurts so bad. And the worse part is, "YOU DO IT TO YOURSELF, YOU DO, AND THAT’S WHAT REALLY HURTS (cue radiohead song)". Spend the next day eating really caloric food, because you deserve it, hobbling around, and laying on the couch petting your cat.

Congratulations! You have now successfully reverse PR’ed!!!

A Series of Short Letters

Dear Logan City Councilmen,

    I write as a singular canine citizen of Logan, but I believe my sentiments would be echoed among all the dog inhabitants of Cache County and their caretakers. My parents and I moved here in pursuit of education, and a better life, for all of us. Instead we have faced persecution on every side. One simple question: Why do you hate dogs? Coming for the dog loving metropolises of Monterey and Salt Lake City, my mom never dreamed there was such a place where dogs were forbidden, even on leash, from stepping foot – or paw - in every single park, baseball field, farmer’s market…etc in the ENTIRE TOWN. There is absolutely nowhere they can take me to play. As for where to source my beloved treats and toys, they have been relegated to the paltry Wal-Mart “Pet Aisle” (alas, there is not even a target in this “city.”)

     A final complaint: my mother was livid the other day when she received her first electric bill from the lovely ‘CITY OF LOGAN’. $125?!?! For a basement apartment in the summer with no A/C? Even in the dead of winter in a drafty 19^th century house, our bill in SLC was $75. Clearly there must have been a mistake. But noooo, its right. Logan charges “access fees” for everything. Access to what? Access to non-existent dog parks? Access to non-existent paved running paths? This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me.

         Sincerely,

              Otto

 (instead of stuttering, I could have discussed this wonderful inter-cultural experience, but I am inept on the phone)

Dear Teach For America Interviewer,

   I’m really sorry about our awkward phone interview yesterday. Really, its my fault not yours. Truly, if we could of done this any other way, via email, text, or even in person, I’m sure I could have wowed you. I am actually a fairly articulate and intelligent human being, though I’m guessing that was less than obviously by the number of stutters and “Ummm, well…” I used in our conversation. Something about the phone just makes me nervous and retarded. I’m sure my chances are gone, just wanted to let you know I’m sorry.

     Sincerely,

      Lauren

Dear Eight Year Old Dan,

   Don’t worry, all your semi automatic Nerf gun dreams do come true. In twenty years from now.

                From Future Dan

 {having a renewed appreciation for beauty after our near death experience, I stopped to take this picture after we made it to the part of the canyon that actually connects with the river walk trail and doesn't offer swift and certain death.}

Dear Guardian Angel,

   Thank you so much for saving Anna and I’s lives the other day. Totally my bad. Made the rookie mistake of running down a random canyon without doing any prior research. Turns out that the shoulder of the road disappears for a couple miles, precisely at the time there is a great number of blind hairpin turns. That close call with the SUV really woke us up and made us drop our pace below an 8 minute mile. Thanks for making sure we didn’t come across the three semi trucks in a row till the road shoulder reappeared. Without your help, we’d be lying next to the mangled raccoon road kill – no joke. I promise not to do that again.

    Thanks,

            Lauren

Dear Pinterest,

   Just wanted to thank you for making DIY projects which are in fact far above my abilities seem accessible. I spent way too many hours and way too many coats of paint thanks to you and your amazing looking finished products. No one mentioned that the IKEA Rast looks like this when you open the box:

 {chocolate lab chewing on the pieces does not come standard}

Admittedly my end result could have been worse, but I don’t think Pottery Barn will be coming calling for my secrets any time soon.

Cheers,

    Lauren

The Time We Got Policemanned

Want to hear a funny story? Dan and I, you know, the ones who take our puppy to preschool, spend all of our money on dog toys and treats (even special ordering elk antler chew toys from minnesota), and come home early from date night because we feel bad leaving Otto at home alone - are being investigated for animal abuse. I know.

 Here's what happened: 

Dan and I were out doing yard work and Otto was hanging out with us. We were just finishing up sweeping up clippings when our neighbor's two year old came running by our driveway. Otto loves playing with our niece and nephew, so he ran after the little neighbor boy in hopes he would play with him like they do. Otto is huge now but is still a toddler himself and doesn't always act appropriately... ie knocking down little kids and jumping on them because he's so excited. So Dan and I run after Otto to bring him back to our house, but he's so excited he won't listen or come back. He jumps on the little guy and I'm afraid he's going to accidently hurt him so I grab his collar and pull him away, but I loose my grip on him as he's full on lunging his 35 pounds away and he goes after the little kid again. So Dan hurriedly sprints after him, grabs his collar again and jerks him away into our yard. It must have scared Otto because he begins to scream. He really does this weird screaming thing when he's scared (its happened before when he's gotten stung by a bee and the time he fell out of the Sequoia). He wasn't hurt - Dan didn't hit him or anything - but he wouldn't calm down. Right then this crazy hippy lady from up the street comes by on her bike- wearing a reflective vest in the middle of the day I might add - and starts yelling at us how she's "going to call the police!!!" "You're abusing your dog!!!" "You people are so terrible!!!" I was so mad that I started yelling back at her. She didn't even see what happened! Are you kidding me? We're supposed to let our dog possibly injure a child? No way jose! He's a dog! And he wasn't even hurt! Whatever. Otto chilled out in about 30 seconds and we all went inside. We gave Otto a jerky treat, I listened to some Sufjan Stevens, and we were all mellowed out. Well an hour later when Dan and I are about to leave for a belated anniversary dinner date the cops show up at our door. Seriously. The lady filled a report of abuse claiming that Dan hit the dog repeatedly with a broom (umm the broom was still laying in our driveway, it never even came into the neighbors yard). Don't worry, the cops thought she was crazy too, and the neighbors who actually saw what happended corroborated our story. But still we had to fill out a report and now animal services will be checking up on us to make sure were fit dog owners. 

And that concludes "The Time We got Policemanned."*

*(My mom used to threaten us that the police man would pull us over if we didn't wear our seat belts. Anna somehow turned this threat into a verb, "You'll get policemanned!"

#hashtags 2

#backfromasia

At long last, Dan is back from his one month stint in Korea. Of course, upon return, we found ourselves at Pizza Hut at 10pm, doing happy dances. Kimichi Free. My little sister and her friend decorated our concrete outdoor wall - not sure how accurate the Korean is...

#uselesscollegedegreegettingmenowhere

After much work on my resume design, I am still no closer to being a contributing member of society. There are seriously no jobs in Logan. None. I really don't want to end up back at Applebee's. Actually I can't. When I quit, I was warned: "If you quit now, YOU CAN NEVER COME BACK!" I hope that wasn't an empty promise.

#hedestroyseverything

This is Mr. Piggy, proudly ridding atop my Costco groceries. I was looking at him at Costco, and a lady came up to me and said, "Those are great! I have a rottweiler and he loves his, the are really tough." The tag touted him as "indestructible". So I thought I'd give it a go. 

He lasted all of 5 minutes before being disemboweled. 

Its a good thing I love you Otto, because you're kind of a terrorist. 

#ireallymissmyfamily

{eating Aggie Ice Cream}

{paddleboating around bear lake, well more like around the dock of bear lake. Otto wasn't a fan, but put up with it because I promised him some of my raspberry shake...}

{brigham city temple - not dressing up - pretending to be non-members}

{my dad cut these for me on the way home from bear lake - I love them}

This weekend my family came up to visit and because it was the same weekend as the USU/Utah football game, Lotoja, and Peach days - there were no hotel rooms to be found. Meaning they had to stay at Dan and I's apartment - which I quite preferred. I would be with them every second of the day, if possible. We went to the Pet Fair, Brigham City Temple, Bear Lake, and countless other mini adventures. Otto and I both shed tears when they were gone (my Dad lavishes more attention on the little dog than anyone else). 

Another One?

I'm not really sure what happened this summer, but I ended up running an inordinate amount of Half Marathons. Someone mentions a race, the thought of medals and chocolate milk comes into play, and the next thing I know I'm signed up for six races this season... Ridiculous, I know. But the only race I've done this year that I would do again is the one Anna and I did this weekend:

TOP OF UTAH 1/2

The night before the race, Anna and I debated whether we should bring sweatshirts - I didn't think we'd need them. But Anna, in her infinite wisdom and non-existent body fat, urged that we throw in some warm stuff - just in case. OH. MY. GOSH. It was soooo cold. Seriously, Logan in August is freezing (can't wait for winter to roll around!)

This is what freezing looks like. Its not cute!

And then we were off! Flattering pictures ensued as we proceeded down Logan Canyon. This race was awesome. The course was gentle downhill (read: not deathly downhill like Parowan), it was scenic, and there was a nice light tailwind - like angel wings pushing you along... Well maybe thats too far, but seriously, it was nice. Also nice was that Anna has been sick most the summer so I could actually keep up with her for awhile before she took off. 

The pressure was on to finish in under two hours, being that Anna had a freshman orientation to get to. Luckily we both crossed with time to spare - though I really wanted to break 1:50, I finished in 1:51, with Anna coming in at 1:49. 

The Moose medals were the real catalyst for getting us to sign up for this race. I'm a sucker for anything with a moose on it. Perhaps the most memorable element of this race will forever be what ensued afterword...After getting Anna up to USU, I headed home to find this:

Otto had broken through the baby gate (not that my shoddy assembling craftsmanship had anything to do with that....) and basically wrecked havoc on the house for 4 hours. I mean, I was almost impressed, he must have managed his time wisely. He was able to shred an entire roll of toilet paper, strew the contents of the bathroom garbage around, take shoes and dirty laundry out of our closet and deposit them in random places, pee on my egyptian tapestries!, and eat an entire stick of body glide:

Don't worry, poison control assured me he'd be fine. 

But back to the happy stuff...Later that evening I got a call that from a florist trying to deliver to my house. Getting flowers stresses me out - they die so quickly and they're ridiculously expensive (I mean I'd rather have a lulu tank than a bouquet of roses!). I was so excited to see that they weren't actually short lived flowers, but that my Mom and Dad had sent us congratulatory potted plants! 

Overall, I'd recommend the Top of Utah to anyone as an awesome race. But I'd also recommend securing your destructive puppy before you go. Just a tip.

They grow up so fast...

Its hard sending your baby off to school.

I was a fairly nervous new parent today as Otto and I walked into his first day at puppy preschool,  though he kept it together and exuded limitless confidence in his jazzy new control harness - I was a bit of a wreck. I was unsure of how things would play out: how will he handle having to sit still and learn, will the other kids will be nice to him, will his teacher will appreciate what a perfect little guy he is? 

Turns out Otto is kind of every puppy parent's worst nightmare: 

The only kid in class barking while the teacher is talking. 

Relentlessly bullying the tiny maltese next to us. 

Being easily distracted by the admittedly cute female chocolate lab in class, Kona. 

Dare I say, the most behaviorally challenged kid in class.

Not that I myself was excelling at puppy preschool - I dropped his whole treat bag during the first exercise - free for all! Good thing we have 8 more weeks to get this down, progress must be made... For both of us. 

Otto was able to start obedience classes this week because he turned the big 3 months. Time flies. So in honor of the little guy's every growing list of milestones, may I present:

{Otto Facts at 3 Months Old}

He is a biter. 
Seriously, my arms look like I have a pet piranha. As he's gotten bigger, and his fangs sharper, skin has been broken. I know he doesn't mean to hurt me, and he's so dang cute, but seriously - the biting has gotta go Otto!

He is a chewer.
He shreds anything he can get his paws on. Including an ethernet cord, vital to the installation process, 5 minutes before the comcast guy shows up to do our internet, after waiting 1.5wks for this appointment....Thanks little dog!

{in more irreverent circles, this picture is entitled "Jesus and the Lab}

He's kinda wussy.
For a lab he sure doesn't like running, hiking or the water. So we took him on an activity that encapsulated all of his hates: hiking to dog lake.

His given name is in fact Otto Von Bismarck. 
However, he is called by various people at various times: little bear, otter pop, otto bot, little dog, and pooch. He comes to all names about equally, in that he doesn't come to any of them.

This Otto's bed, aka where expensive toys go to die.
Seriously, I've tried every toy known to man, read every amazon review promising a "bite proof" toy. Nope, my 20 lb. lab shreds any and everything. Including this blue ball - which was toted as "indestructible."

He still doesn't sleep through the night. 
I get to take him out to potty at about 3am every night. In the dark, in my nightgown, with a headlamp on. Its pretty sweet.

I think by this point you must be saying to yourself one of the following things:

A) This girl needs a job/a life/ a hobby

B) There is an unhealthy amount of dog obsession going on here

C) The line between pet and surrogate child is getting awfully blurry, and its scary

D) All of the Above*

* this is the correct answer