Tomorrow we're taking off for the Mediterranean. For two weeks. We're visiting Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey and Malta.

I am still having a hard time getting my brain around all of this. As a kid I'd always assumed I'd see the world, but like so many things in life as you get older, you start to understand that the things you assumed for yourself as a child aren't always that easy to come by.

When I was in Mexico in December, on our honeymoon, it hit me the very first night how blessed and charmed a life I have lived thus far, and how I've been places my mother never had the chance to visit. Last year I was traveling to some new place every month! And now my husband and I are off to go on a dream vacation, across the world.

I've never taken a vacation for this long. I'm excited I get to take it with my husband along, too.

We're still not done shopping, and I just learned I'm about a dress or two short of what most people on our cruise will be packing, and I have several errands to run, and a dog to take to my sister's, but holy Moses.

In 48 hours I'm going to be in Barcelona! See you when we get back!

posted by Erin at 01:43 PM | Comments (4) | filed under: Odds and ends

A recent comment by one of you fine people got me thinking about my thyroid again.

I've become loathe to talk about it as much as I used to, mostly because it feels like a crutch. I'm so Midwestern and Catholic about anything that it feels awkward and cop-out to point the finger at a disease or a condition, especially when, well, I'm not dying or anything. I just don't lose weight easily and am prone to stupendous fits of utter exhaustion. But I tend to attribute this past year's weight gain to me not being able to move much, owing to my hip. Still, it's hard to look at the past six weeks, and the massive amounts of moving I've been doing, and not be a little irritable about the whole situation.

Mostly, though, I've been lucky because I've got a couple of good doctors in my pocket and am on not only Levothyroxine but also Cytomel. As much as the weight issue bothers me, and it does more so on some days than others, it was the exhaustion that killed me inside, more than anything. If you don't suffer from this, it's hard to explain what this does to your mental well-being. To constantly feel as though you need to sleep bleeds into your self-worth, and you start feeling as though you are the laziest, most useless human on the planet. Cytomel has helped me to be less exhausted, which gave me the strength to work out, which helped me mentally in more ways than I can explain. So it's hard for me to step back and naval gaze on this whole thing, even though I know I should be more vigilant about it than I am.

Next month I'll be going in to see my doctor and have my annual screening. I imagine it'll say I'm "fine," because as all thyroid sufferers know, despite how you feel or your symptoms, if you fall within an acceptable range you are...fine.

But I know I'm not fine, and I know there are things I could be doing - for instance, avoiding soy and other goitrogenic foods (which are all my favorites that I eat by the ton). Studies show that these foods are known to counter-effect thyroid medications and yet? I have a glass of fiber-enriched vanilla soy milk next to me right now. I go through a pound of spinach a week. I don't eat salads without broccoli, and I probably eat them every other day. And we know about my new-found love of kale.

It's fucking frustrating as, hello, these are good-for-you foods! After years retraining my brain to think about these foods with much love and desire as I did a pile of cheese fries, this is a low-blow. So now I have to go about and retrain it not want these items, too? When does my life get to not be about denying myself yet another piece of food? It's ridiculous.

And yet. I know. I know I've said I won't do more tailoring to my diet and yet. I know. I know I should because it's not as though having a thyroid condition is even in the same boat as a full-blown disease, the problem is that if untreated it can erupt into one. And, frankly, I should be open to trying this out if, in fact, it does help with the weight issues I've been having.

(This leads into that same ol' tired discussion I have about being sick to death of caring about my weight and equally caring about it that in the end I just say "fuck it" to all of it and just try and lead a normal, healthy life, and it pisses me off because it never seems to end, and nothing ever seems to change, and it all makes me feel as though I really just value vanity in the end, especially when nothing works.)

But whatever.

Anyway, this all leads me, also, to a new Web site I found called Dear Thyroid and I thought you might enjoy it. I am. It makes me feel a little self-indulgent, like I said, I have a hard time blaming the thyroid when it's ever-so-much-more-fun to blame it on my lack of character and fortitude! But it's nice to remember that my frustration is not solitary, and that for so many folks, this weird little butterfly shaped gland is a real bitch.

Next month (I'm going on vacation soon so forget cutting out spinach and tofu, much less anything else)I'm going to make a concerted effort to follow a hypothyroid-friendly diet for 30 days to see if there is any improvement. If not?

I'm mainlining spinach.

posted by Erin at 12:12 PM | Comments (7) | filed under: Hypothyroidism

Our friend, Jessie, took these of us last night and they have to be the absolute coolest pictures taken of us. This so much encompasses our relationship - talking, laughing, bellied up to a bar - that I break out into that goofy smile I'm sporting in the pictures, just looking at this.

Man do I love Scott. He's just so awesome.

(I love Jessie, too, for coming to my show last night AND for being so awesome herself.)

See the original at Jessie's Flickr stream!

posted by Erin at 11:28 AM | Comments (2) | filed under: Wedding, marriage, love, etc.

So I bought the Garmin 305 on Saturday.

It's bulky, and it kind of reminds me of how we all feel about the early incarnations of the PC, except it's on my wrist and with me for the duration of an hour or so, but I love it. I seriously, unabashedly love it. And I've only used it three times - my long run on Sunday, my bike commute yesterday, and my short run today.

I love the charts and graphs and numerous things it, well, charts and graphs. I love that I can program workouts that I have never had the patience to try and figure out. I love that I have a history of my runs that I can look at. I love the accuracy - I am a way faster cyclist, for example, than I thought.

I'm still getting used to it from a technical standpoint - I need to program the auto pause because I was standing in the CVS yesterday picking up my prescriptions, and I'd jumped off of my bike and forgotten to stop the timer. Whoops.

Anyway, you were all right, and despite the cost, which is still giving me cramps, I am really happy I purchased it.

Someone asked last night in an old post how I eat "all that spinach" and asked for some ideas. I throw it into EVERYTHING, if I'm not using it primarily as a salad base. I'm serious. There is nothing that doesn't call for spinach. Chili, tofu scramble, chicken marinara, eggs, sauteed with some turkey sausage... Don't look for recipes is my advice, and just toss it into everything you can think of that doesn't totally gross you out.

Anyone else have any thoughts?

posted by Erin at 07:41 AM | Comments (8) | filed under: Lose The Buddha, kinda

So if you've been reading me for any length of time, or at least for as long as I've had Glin, you know I've been a frequent fixture at Montrose Dog Beach. Without a doubt, it's one of the nicest perks to dog ownership in Chicago, and we're a super dog-friendly town.

But, you know, with dog ownership in a dog-friendly town, with dog-related everything, comes one biggie: Meeting other dog owners. I have found that there are a goodly number of responsible dog owners here in Chicago but sadly it seems that every dog park I go to, and especially at Montrose Dog Beach, there is an overwhelmingly large amount of evidence that points to the majority of dog owners in this town to be massive jackasses.

I am pretty protective of Glin when we're in public places as a result. Dogs will go dog on you, which is a fact that most people seem to forget, and I like to make sure she doesn't wander off (more likely when she was younger than now) and to monitor any possible scuffle. For the most part, she prefers to stick by us and play fetch for throws on end than pay attention to other dogs. This is especially true at dog beach, but that's a bit by design.

There is an undeniable truism to taking your dog to the Montrose Dog Beach and that's that if you and your dog are playing you will end up "playing" with at least two other dogs whose owners have parked themselves elsewhere, drinking coffee out of Starbucks cups, gossiping with other irresponsible jackasses, completely ignoring the whereabouts of their dogs.

These types of people don't watch their dogs, let alone play with them. They simply let their dogs off the leash, as though they've stepped into some weird space time continuum where the normal rules of responsible dog ownership don't apply, and let them roam free for the duration of two soy lattes. It infuriates the ever-loving beejesus out of me, especially considering the dogs deserve better. And it's not safe.

So when news broke yesterday that someone "dognapped" a new puppy at the beach, I was skeptical, but was trying to not let my karma get lost in my self-righteous indignation. The woman told police she was talking to someone and then she turned around the dog was gone. And there was some accusatory language made regarding the stranger she was talking to. And a $2500 reward.

Turns out? The puppy wandered off.

I am glad dog and owner are reunited, to be sure, but this is what happens when you aren't watching your dog, let alone your puppy. And, to be frank, it doesn't happen to everyone because not everyone is foolish enough to believe that a section of a public beach, one that does not include any sort of fence or barrier that would keep an animal from wandering off, is a safe place to unleash your dog, and not keep a watchful, hawk-like eye on it. I trained Glin how to behave at dog beach, and the only time Glin has "wandered off" is when she went swimming far into the lake two weeks ago because she'd thought I'd thrown her a ball already. Know why? Because that's what we always do. She's damn-near programmed with a routine, and where I walk? She walks. This is not an exaggeration.

The media attention surrounding this woman has annoyed me, and I know I may incur the wrath of people who think I'm being too harsh but I don't care. You take on the job of owning an animal, you don't get the luxury of being careless and stupid. This woman was careless and stupid with her dog. I just hope she's learned her lesson.

posted by Erin at 07:46 AM | Comments (23) | filed under: Random Stupidity

Yesterday I hopped on the treadmill during lunch, fully ready to run 4 miles.

And yet? Yeah. Not so much. I have been exhausted - a combination of monthly cycle and lots of work and late nights. But my running schedule has felt pretty effortless and natural for the most part, and I haven't worried about making my daily routine stick. But I got on that treadmill and just couldn't find the will. Anywhere. At all. It was ridiculous. I wasn't exactly talking myself off of the treadmill as much as I was exploring every potential reason to stay and try and let that carry me through.

After 2.3 miles, I called it a day. Specifically, I allowed it to count for my 2-miler that I should have done today. I ran at 5.0 mph pace, stretched, showered, called it a day. In terms of cardio, it helps that I biked to work yesterday, providing that extra rush of endorphins I've become so addicted to each day.

Today was another story, but only because I made a more invested decision on my strategy. With my hip healed, I'm feeling more confident about taking it to the streets. And I knew that I'm still tired and feeling funky. My mind is elsewhere and my heart is just exhausted (figuratively, BTW) and I knew that if my interest was not somehow inspired and piqued in some new fashion, I was setting myself up for an awful week of training.

I ran four, 11-minute miles before 7:15 a.m. today and lo' it was awesome.

I even shook things up and listened to the latest This American Life podcast, forever changing my way of thinking that I can only listen to music when I run. The possibilities this opens up is encouraging. I mean, a person can only listen to Christina Aguilera's "Fighter" so many times.

Well, maybe not. I really do love that song to pieces.

I had an early morning meeting, so no bike commuting, and it's unseasonably cold here in Chicago, but I'm still not seeing snow so I'm fine with whatever Mother Nature throws at me in this realm. I'm proud of myself for reaching outside of my super comfy zone, breaking through a bit and finding ways to accomplish my goals.

So yeah. I'm exhausted this week, and my mind is a little funky. I'm curbing it by some - swear to God, not making this up - aromatherapy I keep at my desk. I bought it at Whole Foods, and it's a blend called "Balancing" by Wyndmere and a few times I day, like a coke fiend, I open the bottle, take a huge whiff and a few deep breaths. It seems to be working. It's probably the fresh oxygen. I don't really care - it's keeping me from attacking everyone and everything in sight.

I have been known to curse out blades of grass that look at me funny. Kidding. Sorta.

posted by Erin at 12:37 PM | Comments (3) | filed under: Lose The Buddha, kinda

This weekend, a dear friend of ours lost a dear friend of hers.

To be fair, this is not my story to tell, but since learning of this young girl's passing, her sudden death has been on my brain for more than 24 hours now, and I'm burying myself as deeply as I can into work, even took a half hour to do some yoga in the gym here at work, but it's probably best to just purge a little of this here.

I am not good at many things - math, science, not having irrational reactions to the smallest things - and the things that I am good at - sustaining weight-loss, cooking, driving a car with manual transmission - I am because I practiced a lot. My father has said that when I want something, I am rabid with determination and nothing will stop me. He's right. Sadly, when it comes to dealing with death, I've not been able to apply the same gusto, despite ample practice.

This summer, my mom will have been gone for 20 years. All that that phrase encompasses has the power to suck the breath from my lungs if I'm not careful. How is that possible?

I'm not alone, of course. None of us is particularly schooled in death, other than we know we're headed for it some day.

This young woman (oh, she was so young) was a clever, bright, fragile, lovely person. Twice a year she was part of a group of us who assembled at our mutual friend's house for awards show parties. It was/is a tiny group of us and somehow I always end up winning the pool. One year, for her birthday, she invited us out for dinner to celebrate (she and our mutual friend shared a birthday week, and so it was a celebration for them both) but at the end, of this glorious, stupendous, drunkenly bacchanal of an evening, the girls paid for everyone's meal.

I remember that night how she and I toasted to each other and the drink we'd settled on as our favorite, after trying out about six other concoctions since we'd arrived. We last saw her last winter, the night before she left Chicago, at her going-away dinner.

And tomorrow at her memorial service, our mutual friend will read something out loud that I wrote to her last night, about this young woman's laugh - how powerful, unabashed and deliberate and passionate it was.

(I feel a mixture of things about this, not the least of which is humbled and sad and shy and happy that I was able to help in some way. We were not close whatsoever, certainly not so that my words should be present at her memorial service, but there they are, and I suppose it makes me all the sadder somehow.)

My habit is to remember how people laugh, probably because it is the only very tangible thing about my mother that I can recall and feel like, OK, you know, she was a real person and I had a biological mother and she laughed really loudly and crazily and sometimes it annoyed people but she was real. If I have met you, I probably could pick your laugh out of a line-up.

Maybe.

The irony in all of this is that this lovely, fragile, generous, smart young woman was not happy, and all of the laughter the world can hold sometimes can't find its way to bring someone to happy. And I am so sorry and sad that this is the case, because there is so much of this good stuff in the world, sorry and sad for our friend, her family, I am so sad because it's all I really know how to be today.

Tomorrow, today, tonight, now, please say a prayer, if you do, for this young woman, for our friend who lost her best friend, and for all of us - you, me, them, her, him, us - too.

posted by Erin at 02:30 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends

I managed to run my five miles today in exactly an hour. Considering I try and not worry or think about speed on my long run days, I'll consider 12-minute miles a fine thing.

Unlike last week, when I didn't want to stop running, and then biked to boot, I was ready this morning. It was muggy (I got back in by 8:30 a.m. and within that hour it started raining) and there wasn't a lick of sun and I was really spoiled last week by all of that fabulous activity on the lake.

This week begins a sort of running I haven't done, well, ever. At least in terms of distance. I've got two 4-mile runs, one 2-mile and a 6-mile on Sunday. I have one week after this before we leave for a two-week vacation, during which my long runs are slated for both 7-mile and 8-miles, respectively. I'm determined to do it, even if I'm foregoing a night or two of booze so I'm up and running the track on the cruise ship to do it. I may not get in all of my runs, and really, I'm OK with that, but I'm not using vacation as an excuse. Two weeks is just too long to get lazy.

Plus, there are all sorts of classes being given on the cruise ship, and we're going to be pretty active overall, so I'm not too worried about not finding ways to get some exercise.

As for this week, with the exception of tomorrow, when we have plans in the 'burbs immediately after work, I'll be riding every day this week, which is nice since I've only been able to average about 40 miles a week on my bike. I'll have run 16 miles and, if all goes well, done weight lifting twice and yoga once. And seriously? I'm boring even myself with this rundown. I'll stop now.

Happy Sunday, everyone.

posted by Erin at 07:56 PM | Comments (1) | filed under: Lose The Buddha, kinda