Stepping from the Spotlight

As I mentioned, I am accompanying at a ballet studio two nights a week. I'll admit I was a bit nervous about this altogether new endeavor, especially since I am ignorant of nearly all ballet terms and certainly all techniques.

During my college years, I wouldn't have thought twice about accepting this job (it was actually offered to me, indirectly, while I was still in school). I would have argued that teaching pays significantly better and that the classes are past my bedtime. Yes, I calculated life as if it were an algebraic equation. X always equaled practice. I turned down most invitations or opportunities unless I was sure this equation would balance by the end the day.

While I still aim to fit in my practice and hit the hay early, I am finding that I take joy in other things, as well. For instance, being here:

It's not about me. It's about providing music for the dancers. As long as I'm steady and accurate, I'm really unnoticed. And you know what? That's okay. I get the privilege of sharing in their art. Stepping out of the spotlight (and literally into the corner!) has been a wonderful thing. I love being in their studio. It has given me the chance to venture into an entirely different world - while still doing what I love. It's definitely a change from high-concentration practice and teaching. The atmosphere is terrific; I love watching the instructor interact with his students, as he evidently loves his job.

Funny story: on Monday, I entered the lobby for the first day of regular classes. One of the gals behind the desk looked at me and quickly said, "You must be the pianist." Perhaps it was the glasses and Converse? People have always told me I look like a dancer, but I guess they were all speaking without any authority in the matter. Clearly I do not look like a ballerina, and clearly I chose the correct profession.

(Phew! Glad I look like a pianist!)

Thankful for a full week and the provision of work - work that I enjoy! 

On the Job

Work is in full swing!

My home students are in their third week of lessons, and I began my ballet class accompanying job last week. Today was my first day at the music conservatory. 

My days are long and full, but I'm loving it. Week days entail roughly ten hours at the piano - either practicing, teaching, or accompanying (or all three). I guess it's a good thing I love what I do, right? 

Always checking my "balance temperature," because I know how easily my obsessive work ethic can spike to dangerously high levels. Some days it doesn't all get checked off the list. And that's because some things are more important. (Like dog park dates with Ty and Brook, feeding my family, and spending time with a sister who lives out of the country most of the year.)

Slowly I'm becoming okay with the fact that there will be always be work left incomplete. So thankful for people in my life who understand that hardship and fight alongside me. 

Enough about humans. ;)

Brooklyn has realized that if she wants to be close to me, she has to be near the piano. She brought her blanket out of her crate and dragged it to the piano last week. The habit has countinued. How cute is that?! Don't worry,though, Brooklyn still gets daily exercise and more than her fair share of affection. :) 

See?

Yes, I'm blogging from bed. And yes, she's sitting completely on top of me. 

I have a scheduled break between students up at the conservatory. During my break today I got my hands on this beauty (literally!) for an hour. 

I teach from two different "studios." One of them happens to be a church sanctuary. 

I guess it's not too shabby. (You'd better believe I was geeking out!)

And my other studio is a room with a lovely window. 

I am still shocked that all of this has fallen into place. I feel blessed far beyond my expectations and needs. I don't deserve any of this. I hope to keep this perspective as the new becomes the everyday. I want to marvel when it's the mundane. 

The Secret Weapon

As I previously mentioned, we are warring the roaches over here. Ty brought out the big guns, and I haven't seen a bug in the kitchen since.

And then we had a huge rainstorm.

This morning I encountered two more roaches. Thankfully, neither invaded my breakfast space. Even more wonderful is the fact that my guard doggie was on duty. This one will do what it takes to protect me! (Hear that, robbers? She vicious.)

Folks, she's the secret weapon. The bugs have met their match with Brooklyn.

See that speck near the ceiling? Even this smaller roach did not escape Brooklyn's sight!

In case you're wondering, we do not allow her to make a habit of climbing the walls. I've never even seen her try that before. Extreme measures were called for today. Ty said he was proud of me for not screaming and waking him up. :)

A Walk to Surpass Most Runs

Early Saturday morning I gleefully slipped on my new shoes and walked Brooklyn around the neighborhood.

That was just the warm-up walk, intended to help Brooklyn burn some energy. We had plans to be out all day.

Walking.

Our walk may have involved this:

and this:

Stay tuned!

Fantastic Friday

Had what I thought was a good ten-mile run with Mollie this morning. The running part was great. When I took off my shoes, however, I knew the time had come.

I have been needing (and putting off purchasing!) good running shoes for a long time. I bought a pair of Reeboks on sale on Black Friday last year. I like the shoes, but they are too small. I didn't realize this until I increased my mileage. By then it was too close to my half marathon to break in new shoes. Excuses, excuses. I know. Well, for whatever reason, August found me running in my same old too-small, too-worn sneakers.

Today I took off my right sock to find a lovely blood blister wrapped around my big toe. Ty didn't even think twice.

"We need to buy you shoes," immediately came out of his mouth. I sighed in relief, because I didn't want to force an expensive purchase.

I went through the whole foot-analysis, work-with-a-pro process this time around. I tried several pairs of shoes and ran on a treadmill. (Tired after ten miles!) I came home with these.

Turns out Ty owns the same pair of Mizunos, only we didn't realize it at first. The coloring is so drastically different on his that it's hard to tell. Still, twinsie shoes! That not-so-secretly makes me happy.

While new shoes make my feet happy, my heart was made glad today for another reason:

I performed in the Memory Care unit at my Papa's assisted-living home. He was thrilled! (My parents have been traveling for the last week, so he was missing some familiar faces.) While he can't always remember my name, he remembered that I'm his granddaughter. The nurses gave him a "front-row" seat during my informal concert, and all the while I heard him saying, "That's my granddaughter." I could tell by his voice that he was just beaming.

While many people told me what a blessing I was, I came away feeling truly blessed by the experience. What is it about giving yourself away that changes your own heart? And why is it so hard to do so when I know I'll come away blessed?

It wasn't easy. Many residents in his unit simply sit in wheelchairs and gaze into space. Some talk to you, but most can't carry on a conversation. I feel like I'm yelling when I try to talk to Papa, because his hearing is so poor. People came up and talked to me while I was playing. Buzzers went off when residents tried to leave their chairs. Nurses were taking patients' blood pressure. Not to mention the piano, which was an out-of-tune spinet. It was noisy. It was distracting. It was inconvenient. It was a blessing.

I love my Papa, and he loves music. I feel honored to be his granddaughter, I don't want to miss these  choice moments simply from claiming busyness. Today, my to-do list played second fiddle to family. And that's something I don't think I'll ever regret.

At War

I'm at war.

And I'm losing.

My kitchen hates me.


Just when I was beginning to get the hang of this whole cooking and washing dishes thing, my kitchen fought back. And it played dirty.

I have had numerous roach encounters in the past week. (No, we're not infested. It's rainy season!)
I know I rise in the wee morning hours, but can't a girl get a break when she's making breakfast at 5AM? What do I need to do, wave a white flag?!
Last week, I discovered a roach by the coffee maker. (I skipped the coffee and picked up Dunkin' after my run.) I knew I'd need fuel for my run, so I kept of good cheer and armed myself with a frying pan...to make eggs. When a second sighting occurred less than a foot from my frying pan, I surrendered. Needless to say, a breakfast of milk and nuts is not running-friendly.

Today was below the belt. A breach of the rules of war. Some sort of secret-intelligence mission. These guys take no prisoners. They are suicidal.

As I was opening the freezer to retrieve Brooklyn's breakfast, a commander roach leaped from atop the appliance and onto my person. Thankfully it wasn't quite accurate and hit only my foot. BUT IT HIT MY FOOT!

There may have been some a great deal of hysterics. But you should know that I did not let their schemes completely derail and demoralize me. I made coffee and breakfast. And I hit the keys and went along with normal life.

And I have begun plotting their demise. It will involve Tyler and a poison bomb. And I haven't the slightest twinge of conscience.

And the Neighbors Rejoiced

On Friday I met up with Mollie, my marathon-training buddy. She handed me this lovely bag.

No editing going on here - just a true representation of the amount of sunlight at 7AM.
(That should tell you how HOT it was already. The following day we moved our long run up to 6:30AM to avoid melting.)

Inside I found...

...a photo of us from Tali's wedding...

...and two new pairs of shorts!

Sporting the pink. Brooklyn's not so sure about the color. She's a color specialist, you know.

Speaking of Brooklyn and my new shorts, check out how HUGE she is.

I love the black pair, too!

I wore them for my run with this guy.

He's my favorite.

Mollie is my second favorite, because she gave me new running shorts.

KIDDING 

(mostly)

:)

"Have You Washed Those?"

I have a confession to make.

Running bloggers and fashionistas, prepare to be appalled. 

I only own one pair of running shorts.

Did you hear the gasps across the ones and zeros? Or perhaps this isn't a shocker to you at all. Because you've seen my photos. And you've been wondering, "Have you washed those?"

Backtrack all the way to 2010 when I bought my yellow, grey-lined shorts. 

Run for Africa 5K with my sister and her friends

This was a small race, and I actually medaled in my age-group. Ironically, it was a horrible run for me. I donated blood about a week prior to the race and became extremely anemic. That's another story. I have not donated blood since.

Look! I was even caught washing the Civic in my yellow shorts.

Woah! I was caught washing the Civic?! 

I am the worst about washing my car, so this may be an even bigger story than the shorts. But I digress.

You saw them in Laos.

In...

...every...

...picture.

(By the way, Julia and Sone are both here right now! Julia is here until September, and Sone is studying here for a year!)

You also saw them at my half marathon.

Who would have dreamed that yellow shorts would coordinate with so many shirts?

Look! I even wore them yesterday for my 10-mile run with Mollie! Did I say ten? Why yes, yes I did. I was only planning on doing seven, but why stop at seven miles when you're enjoying every moment of your route and company? I found I had no good reason, so I finished up with Mollie.

She may or may not have bribed me with chocolate milk from Whole Foods. You'd better believe that was my recovery drink. Because that's as true as it gets.

This whole shorts-dilemma came up in conversation during our run. I can't really tell you why I only have one pair. A long while ago I purged all the "athletic shorts" I never wore from my wardrobe. Somehow I've never remembered to purchase an additional pair that I like. Truthfully, I'd prefer to spend my dollars on ice cream. For what it's worth, I love my yellow shorts. I'll admit this has become ridiculous, but it's only fair to point out that the one-pair-of-shorts-dilemma has kept me from falling behind on laundry. Gotta wash them so they're ready for the next run. Somehow I don't see that strategy holding up for the next four months.

Saturday afternoon, after our run, I received a text from Mollie saying she had some hand-me-down shorts for me. What a sweetheart! I guess I should really get my act together and purchase a second pair before strangers start throwing shorts out the window as donations to the "Yellow-shorts Girl."

At this point, perhaps you're thinking, "I've seen the Yellow-shorts Girl!"

Do honk or wave next time.

But don't get too close. There's always a chance I've forgotten to do the laundry.

Training the Humans: Puppy and Running Update

Weimaraners are known for their intelligence. This was mentioned in every one of the 3598382 library books that I read in preparation for our monkey's arrival. In addition to physical exercise, they need brain workouts.

Because of this (but mostly because we I need training so as not to be outsmarted by our dog!), Brooklyn has continued her training lessons. After she completed her one-on-one home course, we enrolled her in her first group class.

I was quite confident that she would ace the class. Week one was rough (mostly for me). She seemed to think it was time to play with (pounce on?) the little dogs. Truly, that's her form of affection.

Week by week, her focus improved, and I learned more and more how to keep her attention in high-distraction settings. (We also positioned ourselves away from the small, yappy dogs.) At the last class, she was even runner-up for the Longest Stay competition.

The Graduate

Training is all about consistency. Dogs want to know what is expected of them. They are creatures of habit. (Perhaps this is why I connect with my dog so much?) I've been hitting the leash training hard with daily walks. 

Those 3598382 library books also emphasized the more obvious fact that Weimaraners need exercise. You know that feeling that you need to get outside and move? These dogs suffer from cabin fever daily and need to stretch their (long!) legs.  While I'm not-so-patiently waiting to take her running until her growth plates close and muscular system is fully developed, we walk. This is slightly a bummer, since I'm already putting in the time and miles myself. 

On Tuesday night, I gave Brooklyn a small taste for running. (Do you know how hard it is to have a running dog that can't run yet?!) It was all very impromptu - I was wearing jeans and Converse. Let's just say our walking party was too slow for these girls. They suggested Brooklyn and I try to make it twice around the lake. We accepted the challenge and took off.

I didn't realize it at the time, but we ran a mile. She loved it. I would have loved it more with shorts and running shoes. In no time, this girl will be out-running me in both speed and distance. I must note that she did wonderfully running next to me. She obeyed my commands to, "Leave it," when we passed people and other dogs, and she only nearly tripped me once. Not bad for a first.

Now to wait out the next YEAR. Looks like I'll be doing a lot of running AND walking. The dog park is a nice option for when Brooklyn needs to burn energy but I want to sit.

Speaking of burning energy, training is coming along slowly but surely. The biggest hurdle to overcome is myself. I hate that I'm mostly starting from scratch again, but I'm learning to let go of thoughts like, "This was so much easier six months ago," and "Why didn't I just stay in conditioning shape?"

Ty and I have run six miles together, and this weekend will be my seven-mile run. This time around, I added a weekly speed workout to my program. It's shorter than any of my other runs, but it is the hardest - hands down. I avoid it at all costs, though I know it has been helping tremendously. My comfortable pace is in the 8:30-8:45 range now. I love when I see anything in the eight-minute range! Yesterday I ran five-miles to my parents' house and conveniently arrived while they were cooking breakfast. If a hot breakfast and a car ride were always waiting for me at the end of my run, I think I'd even look forward to speed workouts.

That being said, today is rest day. :)

Happy Friday!