Sunday, September 15, 2013

Frustration, Capital F

I'm getting angrier by the minute and the things fueling the fire just keep on reminding me to make pile bigger.

First, let's start with my hair.  It's too long to hold curl, too short to stay in a ponytail, and too freaking layered for me to French braid outta my face when I run.  And I'm too young to settle on an old lady haircut.  Old lady haircuts make you look like an old lady, so no thank you very much.  Put down the scissors NOW, because the answer is not to cut it even shorter.  

I want it out of my eyes when I'm dripping sweat, i want it to look feminine, and I want it to look neat at the same time.  IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?  Headbands generally don't help because they're too tight and cause me to have headaches.  Yes, even the Sparkly Soul ones which are expensive and beautiful and don't do a damn thing for my hair. I have a big head, so they hurt quite a bit.  Takes all the fun out of running, on that rare occasion it doesn't already feel like self-inflicted torture.

 Attribute that to my thick skull, rather than a big brain.  It takes a lot of force to give me a concussion, such as a horse accidentally throwing me off so that I land on my jaw.  But hey, that worked, and you can keep the nausea and blurry vision.    

I need my hair out of my face when I run.  When I run, I sweat, and when I sweat, I itch horribly all over the minute the first overly salty bead comes dripping out of my pores.  I get gritty white salty patches when I let my sweat dry on me.  Yep, I'm one of thoooose people.   And I don't need the top half of a mullet drooping soggily into my face when I'm running.  Bobby pins?  Oh sure.  They add to the itch factor because they provide tightly pulled places where the sweat stings first.  They scratch my scalp, and the tightness doesn't let the sweat evaporate.  It just puddles there at my hair roots.  

Speaking of running, I got my invitation to the race which was so rude last year.  I'm surprised there wasn't an option to just give them a cash donation on the registration form.  No water stops on the extra-long course being called a 5k, the sweeper truck that didn't stick with the runners, and the race being announced as over because they hadn't bothered checking that people hadn't finished yet.  I may be out of line for saying this, but it seemed to have been set up for favored friends to win, and for everyone else to just hand over money for.  Does it really cost that much to have a cooler and a few water cups halfway through the course? 

There was such a marked difference in attitude from that race and the first one I was in that I can't understand how they could have done such a horrible and inconsiderate job.  Maybe that's the key.  My first race was a small-time affair, and they provided simple refreshments, and took a photo of all participants.  They cared, and it showed.  I can't say the same for this other one.  Others noted the snobby attitude prevalent.  Well, my money Is probably not good enough for them anyway.  Still, I'm angry and offended to get an invitation to be forgotten about once again.  Oh no, don't ask me why I won't support your organization.... Because if you do, I will certainly tell you why.

And another thing... The race I ran in early last fall... I think that they shouldn't be so pushy with the sweeper truck, and that it shouldn't pass the people in the back.  They're most likely the ones who are injured, and might need to be picked up.  I read articles about other regions' races, and they don't disrespect all of the back-of-the -packers.  One woman works in the sweeper truck, and it's her job to offer water and gatorade to the strugglers and stragglers, gels and fruit if needed, encouragement and reassurance, and sometimes run with that last person, to provide emotional support when they'd otherwise collapse on the curb and cry, never to run again.  But around here, the people in the sweeper truck just can't devote an entire hour to the race. Nice.  Jerks.

I'm frustrated because my dog is on his 4th day of diarrhea, and he has smeared and splattered it to almost every room in the house.  I get it cleaned up, and there he goes again.  He also rubbed his nasty butt on my pillows, so it's quarantine time for him until I see some days of no diarrhea.  I love my dog, but I've spent my weekend cleaning up after him, and dealing with my own migraine and nausea as a result.  I have canning and a lot of laundry to do.  At least if he trashes the kitchen, I feel that I can get that sanitized more definitively.  

Maybe the dropping temps will cheer me up.  It's finally starting to feel like fall in the evenings.  *tired sigh*

Why all the running?  I'm just trying to keep my brain from thinking, trying to distract myself from thinking about my disappointing wreck of a life. I feel like it's the only thing I can accomplish with what's left of my life.  So many opportunities have been taken away from me, I wonder if the field was level to begin with.  I suspect that it wasn't. 

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