J. H. Authors

One Woman. Three Names. Many Books.

jhauthors

Happy New Year

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Happy 2010! Twenty-Ten, or so I've been corrected. We missed the "aughts" of the last century, and got in the habit of two thousand and year. Twenty Ten is a little easier. And I am thrilled about the turn into a new decade. Feels fresh.

My blogging here has been random, but it is the time for resolutions, so here is mine. I am going to be better about putting my stuff up there. My stuff being my thoughts on what I've been reading, what I have seen (theatre, movies, TV) and what I think. Likely I will be mostly positive, but when I have thoughts, and I do, I will voice them. After all, this is the point of a blog.

And I am going to focus more on the "art" part of my life for this reason–I need to give voice to the importance of books, live theater, film and some TV in my life. In our world, and with this economy, art is seen by some as superfluous. And next to food and shelter, it is hard to justify the expense (on all levels). Except. Except that art feeds the soul. And nourishes a society. And gives life a depth of color and clarity that makes it worth living. And that is important.

I am post post modern. I get the joke, but also am tired of the irony.
I long for authentic experiences, whether they are on the page, on the
stage, in the museum, or on the screen (large or small).

Lest you think that I am a culture snob, let me assure you, my tastes vary. Greatly. I love Jane Austen. But I adore mysteries. Particularly cozies and traditional mysteries. I love big, bold musicals. But I also love edgy theatre companies. And rethinking classics.

Concern about "who cares?" is gone. I care, and I blog. You may not, but I still hope you come back and visit.

Happy 2010, dear reader. Lets chat.

The Day After

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Though I intended to write last week, the mixed emotions and nuttiness of work precluded that. A quick recap of the week. Monday I went to the doctors who did some moving, poking and prodding of my knees. Long story short, he told me to ice and take ibuprofen, and then reffered me for some PT for my knees. He asked how long my longest run had been, and I told him 12 miles. He said "you can do this". And so I changed from "I can't" to wrapping my brain around doing the race.

Had I to do it over again, I probably would have picked a less formidable half marathon to start. BAA was great (people were great, etc), but they are pretty clear about the course closing after 2.5 hours, and 1/5 of the people who signed up don't go. I wonder if some of them panic. I know I did.

Saturday was between Zen and panic. But I was in. Picked up my bib number. Put the D-ring on my shoe. Laid out my outfit. Reread the "It's all about the Medal" chapter in MARATHONING FOR MORTALS. And got to the place where I realized that, duh, I needed to enjoy this as much I as could. Why was I doing it otherwise?

I am still processing the race, but two thoughts. First, it was harder than I thougJulie Half Marathon 5ht it would be. And I thought It would be pretty hard.

Second, I did it. I freaking ran a half marathon. It took me a little over 3 hours, but I started and finished.

As a friend said last night, I can never again say that I can't do something unless I try. And I will keep trying. The tangible goal of a half marathon helped so much. I am going to keep doing shorter runs this winter, and then set another goal for next season. Maybe a sprint tri?

Now to apply all of these lessons to my manuscript and desired writing life. Thing is, after yesterday I think I can do it.

 

T-6

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I am scheduled to run my half marathon on Sunday, October 11. I am a physical and emotional wreck. Apparently, from what I've been told, this is normal. See, before you run a long race you cut down on your runs. It is called a taper. It is a time for rest and recovery in order to allow your body to prepare. And they say that the taper is a time where emotions run high, aches and pains come to the surface, etc. All true. In fact I am going to the doctor this AM to talk through "is this normal knee pain or not?". I suspect it may be IT band tightness–one of the assistant trainers on my half marathon team suggested a foam roller, which I got last night. A $20 torture device for self massage.

Now, a part of me is worried that I won't be able to run on Sunday. Another part of me hopes I can't. Fear is raising its ugly head, and this is the week to get my head in the game. Because so much of this is a mental game.

I write. I am not published, though it is a goal.  Two reasons I have been able to keep training for this half marathon are the support of my BostonFit group, and the calendar goal. I have joined a Goal for Guppies group, hoping for (and getting) the group support. But the calendar goal isn't there. It is up to me. And there is the problem. Though it is a dream, I do not do all the work to make the dream come true.

Maybe this week, and this race (no matter what happens) will help me figure this disconnect out. And fix it.

There are likely to be a flurry of posts this week as I prepare for this run. And try to get my head in the game.

Who is that old broad?

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Took a Chi Running class on Saturday. The thought was to
learn a technique that will help alleviate injury possibilities. A good
seminar, but again humbling. Not because of the Chi Running, but because of the
technology.

I was one of three students. The other two were guys—one of
whom ran a 5K in 18 minutes. I would be thrilled with a time twice that. We
were filmed at the beginning, middle and end of the day for progress reports.

Watching the film at the end of the day, I was struck. I own
that spandex isn’t my best fashion option (though crucial for chub rub
prevention). Makeup before a run isn’t a great idea, so I go bare faced. I was
prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for is watching an old lady mince
along. And that’s what I saw. Arms out of shape (Michelle Obama has raised the
bar on that front, hasn’t she?), hunched over taking small graceless steps. I
am so afraid of getting injured I don’t risk getting injured. I play it safe.
Talk about life metaphors.

I keep saying that my goal is to finish this race. But let’s
face it—I could walk the 13.1 miles. Adding yoga, strength training to my
training. Also adding a time goal of around 3 hours. I need to get my sexy
back. I need to stand up straight, run and find the joy.

Running Lessons

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The perfect storm that was this past spring (weight gain
over the winter, lethargy and feeling a little blue) inspired me to try to run
a half marathon. My ex-grad assistant Julie has become a marathonaholic, and
was supportive and encouraging (as is her tendency) and suggested her running
group, BostonFit. I signed up (something about a registration fee that helps
with commitment) and showed up the first week. We ran 2 miles (since I am doing
the half it wasn’t a pace run), and I thought I was going to die. Literally, my
lungs burned, shoulders hurt, legs screamed, you name it. But the coach hung
back with me, encouraging and supportive. “I won’t always run with you, but I’ll
always wait for you at the end.” And so I went back the next week. And I’ve
been keeping up with the runs all summer.

This first blog post was going to be about this effort, and
how humbling but inspiring it has been so far. How I’ve been getting better,
but still run at the back of the pack. How hard it is for someone who is
usually good at what she tries to come in second to last in her first race. And
how despite that auspicious finish, the medal I “won” is one of my proudest talismans.
 And how hitting the 100 mile mark for
training (Nike plus tallies since June) and having Lance come on my iPod and congratulate
me on my longest run so far (9 miles) on the same day was a huge moment. And on
this up note I was going to conclude.

But, with no small amount of irony, running has humbled me
again. I bought some new running shoes and was trying them out this AM, for my
scheduled ½ hour run. The shoes are lighter, fit well and are fabulously pink, and I
was running pretty fast (fast for me is around 12 minute/mile. I am a John
Bingham apostle.) And I tripped. And wiped out. Got a cut on my nose. Both knees
skinned and sore (and swollen by the end of the day). My elbow is trashed—skinned
with a huge bloody cut. Nothing is broken (I don’t think), but as the day wore
on, everything started to ache.

This is hard. But I will keep moving forward, and run the
half marathon on October 11. And aspire to use the lessons I have learned in
other areas of my life, including my writing. Hopefully the blog will help with
that as well.

Cozy Thoughts

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My first title was Midlife Musings, but a google search showed that others had come before me. So the title (for now) is Cozy Thoughts.

Why cozy thoughts? The mysteries I read are mostly traditional or “cozies”. The writing I do is in the same genre. (As yet unpublished, but working hard on that!) The definition of a cozy is a mystery without too much sex, violence (blood) or coarse language. A little bit of an irony, since they mostly involve murder, but there you go. One of life’s dichotomies that work.

There are many dichotomies in my life. Having been framed as a non-athlete, I have decided to run a half-marathon in October, and been training since May. A bona fide introvert, I work in the extroverted field of theatre. And so it goes.

This blog will be my thoughts on any number of subjects, from theatre I’ve seen to books I’ve read to my training progress to my writing.

Thanks for visiting.