The Stubborn Contest

my dad and i recently got into a pretty major argument, after which i made it clear that i was available to accept apologies any time that he decided that he wanted to speak to me ever again. (unfortunately, my parents raised me to stand up for myself, and they have been paying for it for the last 25 years.) he did apologize and when i spoke with him this weekend he informed me that he was advised by several persons close to us both that although he is certainly very stubborn, he did not want to be in this situation with me because i would win in the battle of wills.

i really think this is true. i am reminded most recently of my final semester of law school when i decided my con law professor was an ignorant, pompous jerk and i hated his guts, so i wore dark glasses to class for the final 4 weeks, including the exam, "because i couldn't stand to look at him." and so if i passed him in the hallway i could pretend i didn't see him. and i got an A in his class. it was kind of a silent battle, but i was still 100% committed and i won. jerk. i don't generally want to hold grudges and wage surreptitious wars, but sometimes my conscience fails to allow me to do otherwise. luckily, stubbornness can easily be recharacterized in more flattering terms, like dedication and perseverance, which is how i will refer to this trait in reference to myself from now on.

today i persevered through a half-marathon. even though i had only run 1 time since i moved to prescott because i am too wussy to brave the freezing dark. i registered for it when i first moved to arizona to inspire me to keep running despite the 9% humidity (no that is not a typo) ... and since i was already registered, i figured i'd just wing it. winging things is not really my style, and in fact, i cannot even think of a single example of something thing i have winged (wung???) in my entire life. but it's not like i've been spending the past 2 months laying on the couch watching soap operas and eating bon-bons -- i go to spin class! claye quickly informed me that this is not the same as running, and maybe cycling doesn't use the same muscles (how should i know? i only have an economics degree and a law license...) but the concept of self-torture transcends any differences between a bike, the road, or 7 mountains. it's really easy to keep going when that is the extent of all the choices you give yourself.

as races go, this was a fairly entertaining one. there were bands at every mile so i got to throw up a lot of metal signs, even at the group of mainly banjos and the mexican mariachis. little kids and cheerleaders were doing fun dances on the sidelines. i started out next to a guy wearing a mullet wig and an inflatable guitar around his neck. i also had my first experience with lactic acid around mile 10. i remember learning about this in high school biology ... something about anaerobic respiration and it being a really inefficient way to make ATPs. then the lactic acid builds up in your muscles and causes them to cramp up. i did not remember what this meant in the long-term or what i could do to fix it, so i decided the best course was to run through the pain, maybe a little bit faster than before. because the faster i ran, the faster i could get to the end and stop running and do any number of other things, such as gnaw off both my legs with my own teeth. i am so dedicated. apparently that was all the inspiration i needed ... i actually knocked a couple minutes off of last year's time! i spent the evening daydreaming in the bubble bath and feel significantly less gimpy. i think i will be able to wear my heels tomorrow (good thing i have 1 sensible pair) and successfully extricate myself from my car in a manner that does not involve taking a nose-dive onto the pavement and rolling to my destination. by the way that did not happen yet, although i was afraid that it might.