Another Nike Plus Challenge

You've gotta be kidding me! After just 2 short months of running with my Nike Plus pedometer, the sensor battery ran out. It's supposed to last a year. I'm pretty sure the receipt is gone, so I can't return it. Lame. Lame. Lame.

Now I've got to shell out another $30 bucks if I want to keep recording my runs. So, I've run 10 miles since the battery ran out last week, and I won't be able to add it to my Nike profile. I'm bummed.

But I'm enjoying my new goal. I love having a new training calendar to fill out. Today I got to enter 29 minutes of swimming, 750 meters.

Shut up! I know, I'm slow! I don't care if I swim like a turtle...on land. At least I'm out there.

Yeah, no way I'd beat a turtle in the water. I've seen them. I've swam with them. Hell, I even threw up next to one. That's right, 40 feet underwater, diving near the lava tubes off the west coast of Oahu. I realized that all the warnings about drinking the night before SCUBA diving were not unfounded.

My dive master saw the look in my eye. I did a little see-saw with my hand, universal SCUBA language for "I'm not doing OK", only because I haven't yet learned the SCUBA sign language for, "I'm going to spew". Then I pulled the regulator out of my mouth and threw up. The wierd thing is, being underwater, it wasn't really like throwing up at all. It was like throwing horizontal. The stuff basically just floated away.

These huge turtles were swimming close and I could see one of them just staring at me as he floated by. All I remember was staring into his eye as he passed and wondering, what could this turtle be thinking about me? I bet he doesn't see this everyday. I mean, he was so close, I could reach out and touch him if one hand wasn't on my stomach and the other wasn't on my regulator.

Believe it or not, I didn't even breathe in during the whole ordeal. I know you don't really think about it when you're kneeling to the porceline throne, but do you breathe in? I was able to do my business, put my regulator back on, do the extra blow out to clear the regulator of any salt water and then take a breath without any problem. I was like an old pro, like I've done it before.

It was early in the dive, and I thought our dive master, Mike, was going to take me back up - 'get this girl out of here'. But he didn't! He looked me in the eye, waited for my "OK" hand signal and proceeded to take us to the lava tubes, which were absolutely, AMAZING!!

All right, I've rambled from my Nike Pedometer to my triathlon training to my Lava Tube dive in Hawaii, but I'm feeling much better now, and not as bummed about the pedometer.

It's storming outside and I'm loving it. I don't mind the rain, but I love it even more when it's accompanied with thunder and lightning. I'm going to pour a second glass of white cranberry peach with a shot of ketel one and enjoy this rare rain in the desert. You know what, I'll make it a double. I'm not SCUBA diving tomorrow!

Tri For The Cure

Staying motivated to run has been difficult after the marathon. It's like no longer having any reason to subject myself to the tedious chore. And when I do get depressed enough to go out and run, I've completely lost my groove. I used to be able to get ready to run and out the door in no time flat. Now, I'm running around trying to find all the necessary running acoutrements...my visor, ipod, headphones, stopwatch, sport beans, ipod sport band, nike plus pedometer. By the time I get myself together, I don't feel like going anymore, or my window of opportunity decreases and I have to shorten my run.

I know earlier this year, I resolved to finish my first triathlon in 2008. After doing some searching, I found Tri For The Cure on April 20th in Chandler, AZ. The triathlon is a sprint, so the distances are short and doable. Perfect for my first tri. It's a 400 meter swim in a pool, 9 mile bike and a 2 mile run. It's also an all women's event, and there is a youth triathlon that day, too.

I asked my 11 year old daughter if she'd be interested. Lately, her class has been studying about heart disease, also next year in Middle School she'll be expected to do a lot more running, so I knew she wanted to do something to get into shape. She's very busy in performing arts, but is currently not in any sports. The youth triathlon is just 150 meter swim, 3 mile bike and 0.5 mile run. It's a perfect mother-daughter goal for us to work toward.

I'm looking forward to blogging about our training sessions. Today, we did a short run, 0.5 mi. She stopped frequently for side cramps, or to tie her shoe or catch her breath. I'm sure she'll get in to shape in no time. Tomorrow we'll see how her swimming is afterschool.

My Nike Plus Challenges

So Nike has this website especially for the Nike plus users. It's my special pedometer that works with your ipod, which I blogged about earlier in this post.

I love the site, though. I get to track my runs and enter personal goals and challenges. I'm in several challenges right now. Like, which networking site is better, Facebook or MySpace? Basically, the real question is, which networking site users run more using Nike-Plus? Right now MySpace is getting their virtual butt kicked here. I am running for MySpace, which currently has 412 miles to Facebook's 1191. Pretty sad, but there are only 16 people on the MySpace team whereas Facebook has 39 people. If you go by averages, Facebook still wins by 5 more miles per person than MySpace. But you know what? I'm back to running! We might not ever catch up to the Facebook in miles, but I can bring up the average miles per MySpace user. This challenge ends on April 5th.



Also, when you win a challenge, the nikeplus website has a special page for you called the "Trophy Case". Here you can see your goals, get virtual Trophies for challenges you've entered, Milestones, etc.

I checked on the status of the "Fifty State Throw Down". Which state will run the most in the next year. Arizona is in a sad 24th place with 64.71 miles. Missouri is in a commanding lead. Then I checked on who is actually running for Arizona and found that I AM THE ONLY ONE RUNNING FOR ARIZONA! And I'm in 24th place! Woohoo! I beat out Texas' 3 runners in 26th place and California's 3 runners in 30th place. If that's not inspiration, I don't know what is. I might not get a trophy in my trophy case online, but I don't need one.

A Cold Day in Hell

The last time it snowed in the Valley of the Sun, it was the day the Patriots lost to the Colts, January 21, 2007 at the 2006 AFC Championship Game. The Patriots blew a big lead of 21 - 6 at the half and lost 34 - 31, sending the Colts to Superbowl XLI last year.



Once again hell freezes over.

The Patriots lost yesterday in Superbowl XLII to the New York Giants, 17 - 14. In a heartbreaking, nail-biting fourth quarter. The possibility of an undefeated season gone, disappearing as quickly as todays dusting of snow on the McDowell Mountains.

There's always next year, Pats! Congratulations, Giants! Good game!

Friday Nights and Saturday Mornings

Actually, it wasn't Friday Night or Saturday morning. It was this past Saturday night. I was able to cross another thing off of my lifes To Do list. I keep this list handy in my Do It Did It Handbook. Filed under Concerts to See and written in blue ink over 8 years ago is 'Counting Crows'.

It was a free concert, put on by the NFL for Superbowl XLII Saturday Night at Tempe Town Lake. My husband spent all day at the FBR and was planning on going to the Birds Nest. So, it looked like I would just be going by myself. But this was actually fine with me - fine and fitting.

Basically, Counting Crows music was there for me at a very tumultuous time in my life. There was a lot of change going on: jobs, moving, relationships. A time where I thought I knew myself completely, yet was redefining myself at the same time, and their songs were the soundtrack. Some of their lyrics lead themselves to interpretation, and somehow, my interpretation of them helped me fit them into my life.

That's why this concert was my own personal journey. I had to experience this by myself because I don't think anybody else would understand the meaning it had to me. Either that, or they'd wonder "Why are you rolled up in a ball crying on the ground? Recovering the Satellites is playing!"

Heheheh. No, I didn't cry to any of their songs. In fact, I must've been all smiles. Adam Duritz performance is poetic. Just amazing! The whole bands performance was everything I've always thought it would be and more.

I'm so glad I went. Going by myself allowed me to get pretty close to the stage. Considering I arrived at the venue 45 minutes after the doors opened, this was pretty good. I didn't go to the beer garden section since a woman hanging out solo shouldn't be around any drunk people. However, being solo granted me the ability to weave my way through the crowd to about 200 feet away from the stage without getting too many dirty "don't-you-dare-stand-in-front-of-me" looks. Still, the video I took is pretty poor quality, but the audio is fine.

Anyway, A Long December is the one song Adam actually sat in front of the piano and played. Thank goodness they played that song because the guy behind me was losing his voice yelling it out since before the opening act started playing. Adam did screw up on a chord in the middle of it, but he handled that with charm by adding "I f*d up the chord" to the lyrics. Listen for it about at about minute 2:37.



Counting Crows' new double album, Friday Nights and Saturday Mornings, is scheduled to be released on March 25th. You can go here to download two mp3's from it for free. "When I dream of Michaelangelo" is one of the first songs they played that night and it sounds pretty good. Nice to know that they've got some new stuff coming out.

There Was a Party in Scottsdale, then a Golf Tournament Broke Out.

If I could sum up the FBR Open, formerly Phoenix open, it would be in this one picture, a sunny Friday afternoon, drinking beers, lake front with a view of the 18th hole:

My sister-in-law Ann Marie has tickets for the Super Bowl so arrived from Foxboro late Thursday Night. We told her that the trip to Arizona would not be complete if she didn't go to the golf tournament dubbed "The Greatest Show On Grass".

Upon entering the tournament welcome tent, I promptly lost my husband in the crowd. There was record attendance of 120,000 that day. Doesn't anybody work anymore?? It's a friday afternoon! I actually took the day off just for this.

So, we headed to the 16th Green where we had agreed to meet if we were separated. This is probably not the most ideal meeting place, since the 16th hole is the most busiest, craziest, wildest part of the tournament. There is nothing else like it in golf. It's a par 3 of about 160-something yards, surrounded by stands. These 153 corporate boxes cost $45,000 each for a total of $6.9 million - the most profitable 160 yards in all of the PGA.

The roar from the crowd is incredible when you tee off and hit the green, but when you don't hit it, get ready for the BOOs and the taunts.


I did find my husband an hour later behind the 16th green, a beer in his hand and talking to two dark-haired, beautiful ladies which turned out to be sisters. One quickly said "We were just networking." I love it. Is that the new excuse? I thanked them for keeping him company and told him that I'm sure he didn't mind the beautiful escorts.

He told me that he was starving and had to get something to eat at the corporate tents before trying to look for us. He knew we had a meeting place. I railed at him for not answering his phone. I had called him 9 times, left a couple of voicemails and text messages. I was worried. He said he didn't think to call. He was worried about pulling out his phone, a forbidden item to bring into the tournament. Also, he didn't realize I had snuck my phone in, too.

After we regrouped, we headed for the corporate tents to get our share of free beer and the great view of the approach to the 18th. We passed by the Greenskeeper lot, an area full of tents and tables where you pay hundreds of dollars to drink, eat and party. I noticed there was absolutely no view of any golf from there. I'm sure that half of the 120,000 people that day didn't know the first thing about golf. Golf watching is definitely over-shadowed by people watching. People come dressed to impress. I've seen stiletto heels, revealing tops, short skirts, you name it. I've heard it said that FBR not only stands for the Friedman, Billings, Ramsey Group, Inc that sponsors the tournament, it could also mean, the Fake Boob Round-Up. We definitely have seen our share of them whenever we go.

Even I wore heels, and my black tank top with "Grayhawk Mom" written in Swarovski crystals, a shirt I purchased from my daughter's school PTA. Grayhawk is not only our neighborhood and school, the golf course is renowned. Phil Mickelson used to play there all the time, and many of the local FBR golfers consider Grayhawk their home course. Including past FBR winners, like JB Holmes, who is currently in the lead today.

Yes, a golf tournament does go on here. I actually was able to see one of my favorite hottie golfers tee off at 11. I would have enjoyed seeing him putt, too. He has the most interesting stance when he gets as low as he can to see the lay of the land and the ball. And on the 16th green, one guy was booed for missing the green on the tee off. Then when he chipped on, it completely skipped over the green and landed on the other side. He didn't hear the end of it! The 16th is not for the faint of heart.

It was a beautiful day for golf. Although a frost warning and 31 degree weather at dawn delayed the golf, it warmed up to the 60s and the lack of wind made it feel even warmer. The tournament is just about 3 miles from my home, so it's a must-go event for me every year.

One degree to Paris Hilton

My husband was having a boys night, so my girlfriend and I were contemplating the FBR (Phoenix Open) Birds Nest Thursday night. KC and the Sunshine band would be playing. Everything was pretty much in the air, so I was letting the wind blow me where it would.

It turned out a friend of ours had VIP tickets to the 944 event that evening; Paris Hilton, 50 cent, Wyclef Jean, the list goes on. We parked at the Fashion Square garage near Nordstrom. The area was buzzing with lights, police, stretch limousines, hummers, pedi cabs and tons of people walking around. They dressed in either warm bundled clothes, or mini skirts and even mini-er tops, braving the cold desert night.

Walking out of the garage, the first person we run into is a tall, long haired woman in her late 20s in the street crying. One of my friends went up to her to find out what was wrong? She just cried and babbled, so he gave her a hug. We could barely get anything understandable out of her.

"Are you OK?"

"I think I'll be OK if I just get a cigarette." Was the first coherent thing I heard from her.

I introduced myself, just the first of many times. Her name was Nicole.
"Why don't you walk with us and we'll find you a cigarette." I offered.

As we walked toward the 944 tent entrance about a block away, I locked arms with her. It was awkward because she had to be 6 inches taller than me, plus she was wearing heeled boots and was swaying from the drinks she must've had earlier. I tried to keep us from both falling in a mess of hair, heels and tears.

"Thanks for hanging out with me. I'm Nicole. What's your name?"
This conversation went on until I found some friends who had arrived in another car and I bummed a cigarette off of them.

"You are so cool to help me out." She said to me, "I'm Nicole. What's your name?"
She smoked her cigarette and it seemed that it did help her. She started to actually start making sense. "Believe it or not, they kicked me out because they said I was too drunk!"

I don't know if I rolled my eyes right to her face as she said this, or if I just did it in my mind 'Too drunk? ya think?'

"But, I got to take a picture with Paris Hilton! I did." She took out her digital camera. We gathered round it and I could see Paris's familiar blonde hair amidst a crowd of other, darker heads. It looked like she had hoisted her camera above the crowd to snap the pic. The next couple pics were about the same. I was pretty impressed about how close she actually got to the celebrity. But then the final pic, there was my new friend Nicole cheek to cheek with the hotel heiress herself, both of them smiling beautifully toward the camera.

She did it! She actually got a picture with her. Too funny!

"There's the general admission section, then there's the VIP section then there's the even more VIP section, where Paris was," she explained. Nicole, in her own drunken way somehow made it to the Very-VIP section, without the proper credentials and got her picture taken with Paris. Something, which my husband later read, that would normally cost you $100.00 to do.

I guess she was immediately escorted out of the 944 event and tossed into the cold streets of Fashion Square.

She wanted a group picture of us, so we posed as a passer by snapped our pic. Then one of my friends gave her his email address, which I knew she would promptly either lose or forget who/why she even has that email address. She suggested we walk around to look for her friends, and I walked with her for about 10 feet before turning around. She didn't realize that she lost me until she was down the street. She turned around and walked back, but I hid behind a friend. Sorry, Nicole. It was great meeting you, but you are a drunken heap of hair, heels and tears.

Our friend wasn't able to get us the VIP passes he talked about, so we hung out across the street at Olive and Ivy, which was crowded, warm and loud. It was a wonderful time, even if Paris couldn't hang out with us.