Friday, March 29, 2013

Less than a month

This is less than one month away.  I still haven't run over 9 miles in my training, but I have memorized the exact location of every port-a-potty.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

UFC, green beer and fire wallets!

I just returned from a run through Wisconsin and Michigan's upper peninsula.  I worked with the very funny Myke Herlihy.  This is us hanging in the swanky green room on Saturday:

And here he is wowing some security guards with his fire wallet.

We had a great week that included the following:
-The deliciousness that is Glorioso's.


 -Watching tv in the aforementioned swanky greenroom.



-Seeing UFC 158 in Spanish, and learning how to say "dudes sweating into other dudes' cuts = hepatitis."

-Wearing green for St. Patrick's Day.


-Drinking green beer!


-Being told that I would "make a good mom" after telling 30 minutes worth of dick and poop jokes.

-And nearly passing out from exhaustion at my first 15K!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

My first 15K!

In order to train for my first half marathon (I'll be running the Glass City Half on April 28, 2013), I decided to run a 15K (about 9 miles) to gauge my training progress.  Before the race, I had never run more than a 10K (about 6 miles), and my training process has so far consisted of running a few miles on the treadmill here and there and consuming Sour Patch Kids like it's my job.

Since I was in the Milwaukee-area for some gigs, I decided to sign up for the Luck of the Irish 15K race.

I was so not pleased when I received this email the day before the race:

At least, I thought to myself, they might have some green beer to combat the pain of running in the bitter cold and slipping on the ice. Sadly, I was wrong.

Before heading out the door in this get-up (yes, I actually wore those glasses in public),


I made a little video:



 I got to the race early and picked up my bib and tech shirt.  I was pretty disappointed with the way it looked, but I suppose puke green is a genius color for St. Patrick's Day as it camouflages vomit. 


When I arrived at the race site, I was quite blown away by how athletic everyone looked.  Not sure if it's the fact that Wisconsin is known for cheese, but I was looking for people who appeared unhealthy and beatable.  Even though I'm terribly slow, and I am far from being considered an "athlete," I still don't like getting passed by seven-year-olds (which happens nearly every race) and people who look like they might die from a heart attack at any moment.  Just an ego thing, really.

Except for the guy smoking near the starting line of the 5K, everyone looked pretty serious.

I was nervous.  I asked a guy to take my picture (this bad boy below, which is the last time my thighs didn't feel like jelly) near the starting line, and he confessed it was his first 15K. I confided that it was mine as well and made a joke about it becoming a 10K very quickly. He laughed, and I sized up how fit and serious he looked.  He was wearing running pants and appeared to be in good shape.  The likelihood of beating him = slim to none.


I scanned the group and found a guy who looked like he could be a grandfather and a couple of women who, tactfully put, appeared to be in the "beginner exerciser" category.

"Okay," I told myself, "at least I won't come in dead last.  But, it could be close."

The weather was absolutely freezing (below 32 degree temperature + a light snow + wind does not fun make), but as soon as I ran for a half mile or so, I didn't notice too much.  What I did notice was how many hills were in the course!  Rather than being one long course, we ran four loops of the same course.  So the first time I saw the major hill, all I could think was, "dear God, I've got to do this three more times?  Oh, the humanity!"

I tried to ease the negative thoughts in my head, and instead, I turned up my music louder and told myself that I could get through it.  This worked until about mile 6, then I hit a wall.

After mile 7, my legs felt like wet noodles.  No matter how much I tried to pep talk them, they just did not want to move faster, especially on the hills.

I saw a guy with a "Go Vegan!" shirt. I contemplated cheering for him or yelling a supportive message, but then I realized I was too out of breath to do so.  Plus, he appeared to be in great shape and was blowing by the competition.  I wanted people to think that's what vegans are, not some huffing and puffing woman who can barely make it up a hill without grunting and walking.

Despite the pain (and I definitely started to hurt all over after mile 8), I powered through.  And eventually, I finished!


The deserted finish line.  I'm not even kidding, everyone (including the race officials) had pretty much gone home by the time I crossed.

I didn't care though, I was just happy I finished on my own two legs, and didn't have to be carried off in a stretcher.


I got my official time, and here's what it said:



Ouch!

Well, at least I wasn't last.  I'm pretty sure the grandfather and the "beginner" women all beat me and that the mysterious 89th person was just someone who didn't show up that day.  But, hey, I finished, and that's what matters!






I now know that I need to up my training if I actually want to be able to use my legs again after my first half-marathon.  I also know that anything sounds more appealing than running outside in the winter in Wisconsin.

Friday, March 15, 2013

North Dakota

I spent last week in the lovely state of North Dakota with my friend, Steve Sabo.

My view for our 20 hour drive:


I was just glad he took a break from playing Words with Friends and doing crossword puzzles to actually, oh, you know, watch the road so this wouldn't happen to us:

The roads were quite scary, and as expected, there was a crapton of snow.  But, we made it!

First stop: playing the Dreamers Lounge in Grand Forks.  I absolutely love Grand Forks!  It's a cute college town filled with students who talk about sociology with a North Dakota accent. What could be more adorable than someone talking about functionalism while sounding like they just walked off the set of the film Fargo?


Back when we were young and purdy:

We also met the very funny (and really nice guy) Spencer Dobson.  He came by to MC and we had a few (read: several; it is North Dakota after all) drinks with him after the show.



After leaving Grand Forks, we headed to Fargo (well, Moorhead, Minnesota to be exact; they're right next to each other, but Fargo sounds more exotic), where we got to be on the radio to promote our shows.




And the highlight of the trip?  Seeing the infamous wood chipper!




Fargo memorabilia. 






And the best part about the good ol' chipper?  It got us out of a speeding ticket!  On the way back, as we were crossing the Ohio border, Steve got pulled over.  The cop's favorite movie was Fargo, we showed him the above picture of us, and poof, nothing but warning city!

Thank you tributes to gruesome film scenes; you just saved us $200!


Not really the email you want to receive

I received this email regarding my first 15K.  Not what I was hoping for.  Although wishing for a balmy 80 degrees in Wisconsin in March was definitely a bit unrealistic. 


Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Decision made and tuition deposit paid!

After spending the last year of my life studying for the LSAT, freaking out about the LSAT, filling out applications, writing personal statements, ordering transcripts, visiting campuses, hoping for scholarship money and just all around obsessing over where I'll be attending school, I have finally decided where I'll spend the next three years.  Despite not being able to escape the winter like I had planned, I am quite happy about my choice!

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Dia-beetus and wine

Last week, I headed to the south to play the Stardome in Birmingham, Alabama and the Vaudeville Cafe in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  I had the pleasure of working with the hilarious, Alex Ortiz, all weekend.

When I first arrived in Birmingham, I was delighted to see this:

Out of all of the hotels I've stayed in, this one had by far the fanciest shampoo (and cruelty-free too).

On-stage at the Stardome, which is an absolutely gorgeous club that seats around 400 people (and get this, it was SOLD-OUT on a Thursday). 

During the day, I enjoyed the 60-degree-weather, and I also had the pleasure of hearing a real, live person pronounce dia-beetus the way Wilford Brimley does.   His conversation with the cashier went a little something like this:

Cashier (noticing that the man is buying 6 large tubs of ice cream):  Oooh, somebody's having some ice cream today, huh?
Man:  Uh-huh.  My doctor says it's good for my dia-beetus, so I'm stocking up.
Cashier (confused):  Oh yeah?  It doesn't have any sugar?
Man (in a tone that implies him saying "duh"): Oh no, it has 21 grams per serving, but it's low-fat, so it's good for me.

Me:  And I here I was thinking the secret to good health was kale and working out, when it turns out, it's been Haagen-Dazs the entire time.  Well, color me enlightened.

After three shows at the Stardome, I headed up to Chattanooga.


The hotel pool.  Anyone up for a swim in beautiful, crystal clear water?

My Friday show marked the first time I've ever been paid for merch in wine. 


Wait, so you're not supposed to drink it straight from the bottle?


That's me with Alex, Viet Huynh and Mike Haun. 

Of course, no trip would be complete without a late night trip to Taco Bell.  I'm sure we've all heard the joke "if cops want to catch drunks, they should park outside of Taco Bell at 2 am."  Apparently, Chattanooga has implemented this strategy.