Another heroic run...

After running the BAA half marathon (13.1 miles of pure and undiluted toilet yearning), I knew I needed to step up my training for the Canyonlands Half Marathon. Knew... but didn't. After three months of sedimentation, I ran 6 miles about a month ago and ruined my foot - I'll probably never walk again.* Actually, I probably just pulled a ligament. Being born of goodly, stoic parents, but not having myself been blessed with the gift of a high pain threshold, I declared myself unfit to run the 1/2 marathon and sent my brother Michael to the starting line with my racing bib. Michael (who also didn't train) did my name proud and finshed in a great time. I waited on the sidelines and ran the last four miles with Tim, and we practically won the race. **

Note the middle pic: Michael and I are both incapable of serious thought / exercise without sticking out our tongues. It is sure to end badly one day...

*I've been hanging out with my niece Bryn, who regularly declares herself a cripple after earth-shaking injuries like running into the couch and such.

** We came to the high desert from sea level and like to tell ourselves that's why we couldn't breathe.

How I got this way

As seen on the Dickeyfam... These lovebird quasi-hippies are my parents in 1969 shortly before they got married. They spent their first few months as newlyweds living in a cabin in the mountains with a whole slew of wild creatures as pets. Love it, love them.

I heart Somerville

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

Tim was kind enough to make dinner at my place last night - pork chops with an apple cider reduction glaze (the recipe also called for bourbon, but I surprisingly didn't have any on hand). He was whisking quick quick quick (as fast as his hand would allow) and became quite warm so he opened a window despite the winter storm assaulting the easterly parts of the country. The key phrases you should have picked up on thus far are: "opened," "window," "winter," and "storm." Did you see the word "closed" in that list? Nay, you did not. I woke up to a 'feels like' temperature of -86 and was greeted with a kitchen winter wonderland. My cactus is severely upset.

A jolly fine Chistmas fir

This year I decided that even poor graduate students (the worst people in the world according to Ms. Fey) deserve a proper Christmas tree. Tim toted it (and several other trees that I interviewed) all around Home Depot and managed to stuff it in the backseat of his car before carrying it up the narrow stairs to my apartment. And he helped decorate it, but would not admit to it if asked.

Is your tree up?

Grateful

I often don't respond to tags and such, but I can't say no to my niece Sarah, who has asked that I come up with 27 things I'm grateful for today (Thanksgiving). When I didn't respond right away, she quipped, "What? Are you seriously, so unblessed?" Indeed I am not.

• Hob Nobs
• National Parks and other conservation areas
• The purse Jill got me off eBags
• Cetaphil
• iPod
• Darin, Kim, Sarah, Megan, Mathew, and Jacob
• Ibuprofen
• Danskos
• The World Wide Web
• Karen, Zack, Eli, and Max
• Trevin
• Grapes
• The fact that I have so many wonderful friends that I couldn’t possibly list them
• Books
• A healthy body
• The space heater on my desk that Tim gave me even though it wasn’t his
• Cami, Peter, Bryn, Calvin, and Lolita
• Gravity
• Michael, Jill, Mary Kate, Jonathan, and Jeffrey. And keys. And Winnie.

• Lilies
• Indian food
• Dave and Lynette
• Mountains
• Lance and Dani
• Swimming in Walden Pond under a full moon
• Orthotics
• QUALIFYING EXAMS ARE OVER!!!!!!
• Addendum: I am severely grateful for my cousin Adam. Every day.

Not Angry Anymore (but Ani still is)

After spending most of the night pacing and eating HobNobs (brainfood, I rationalized), I bravely showed up in our department's conference room to face the five professors that adorned my qualifying exam committee. They assured me that the exam would be a friendly, non-interrogating discussion, and then spent two hours interrogating me. Bamboo under my fingernails type of interrogating. I stuttered through most of their questioning (regarding a research proposal that I had written in an effort to prevent lung deterioration in cystic fibrosis), but managed to come up with a few words here and there that pacified them. Surprisingly (and thankfully before the Chinese-water-droplet-on-head exercises commenced) they unanimously deemed me fit to continue in the program, which means that I am now allowed to pursue a PhD at Boston University. I know you all think that’s what I’ve been doing for the past two years, but actually I’ve just been going around and around and around the freedom trail.