tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-235917522024-03-14T08:43:46.726-06:00never mind the bumpsyou catch more air if you hit them at full throttleLana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.comBlogger289125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-36989512226333784112012-03-07T17:30:00.000-07:002012-03-07T17:30:00.046-07:00The Inevitable Catch-up Post<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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November. Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
haven’t posted anything since November?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wow, ok. </div>
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What has happened since November?</div>
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Christmas, obviously. I gained a few pounds (which I have
yet to lose) so that’s no good. I ran a 5k on New Year’s day, and PR’d, which
was good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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We went to Belize for 10 glorious, sun-drenched days in
January, which was good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can check
out the pictures <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/davidbump/sets/72157629021361655/">here</a>.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have a new job (sort of—it’s complicated) which I am
enjoying, and is good.</div>
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Running-wise, I’ve been training. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I volunteered for a race in December, which
was fun, and got me a free entry into one of the other races organized by the
same folks, and I chose the <a href="http://www.greenland50k.com/">25K
Greenland Trail Race</a> as my free race. It’s the first weekend in May and I’ve
yet to run a single trail, but I’ve got about 2 months, and the weather hasn’t
been conducive to trail running lately. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll
get there. The elevation profile isn’t as brutal as the Leadville Heavy Half,
and I think it’s a large loop. Actually, I should probably check on that.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I signed up for the <a href="http://runrocknroll.competitor.com/san-diego">Rock and Roll Marathon in
San Diego</a> on June 3rd, which should be fun. We have great people to stay
with, and the weather should be nice (the weather always seems to be nice in
San Diego).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really really really
REALLY want to run a sub 5 hour marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m hopeful everything will be on my side and I can shave 3 minutes off
my time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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The heart rate training got stalled out over the holidays,
but I’ve been back at it since we got back from Belize, and I can see a
difference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It hasn’t been easy, and the
progress is still untested, but I’m hopeful that it will help. All I really
need is 3 minutes. If you really have nothing better to do (really? I'm sure you do) you can click on my Daily Mile link and track my progress over there. Let's be DM friends, if you have an account! </div>
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I entered the lottery for the NYC Marathon, so if I win (and
it really does feel like if you get in, you’ve won the race right there) I’ll
do that, but if I don’t, I won’t be doing any other races this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just have to hope that I can maintain my
motivation without a race to train for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Right now I’m training through June 3rd, so I’ll have to be contented
with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I don’t get in to NYC, I’m
probably taking marathon break for a while after San Diego RnR.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But ask me that question again after San
Diego.</div>
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There is other news, but I can’t really talk about it
yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry to be cryptic, but there it is. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will tell you I’m not pregnant, so don’t go
there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re curious, email me.</div>
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<b>What about you? How were your holidays? What have you been up to?</b> </div>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-85428585924221507222011-11-30T21:18:00.001-07:002011-11-30T21:26:23.953-07:00move on and forget itI've been feeling mopey and self-disgusted after falling off the posting wagon during Thanksgiving, and then falling off the exercise wagon too. And by falling off the wagon I mean not even going for a walk for a whole week. While simultaneously eating pie like a professional. This <i>I don't give a shit</i> philosophy showed itself on the scale Monday morning, let me tell you. Nothing like a 4 pound gain to make you snap out of your wallow and give a shit. <br />
<br />
I just heard this great mantra about willpower today. When faced with a temptation (whether that's something you want to eat, or something you don't want to do, like go for a run) you
have two options: <b>you can give in and regret it, or move on and forget
it.</b> The forgetting it is, admittedly, harder at some moments than
others, but I'm going to add it to my other mantra: <b>you don't drown my
falling in the water, you drown by staying there.</b><br />
<br />
I'm pulling myself up out of the water right now, trying to make good food and exercise choices. Little by little, piece by piece, I'm trying to move on and forget how I sidetracked myself over the holiday. It's hard work.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-50630299751007523142011-11-21T12:46:00.001-07:002011-11-21T22:08:21.433-07:00many things that bug me monday (and i know you care)Actually, I'm fairly certain no one cares about what bugs me, but I'm going to share them with you anyway. I was making up a list of these today at lunch with Mr. Bump and so I thought, why not write them all down and share them with you. To the list!<br />
<ol>
<li><b>Glitter</b>. Glitter cards, glitter gift bags, glitter everything. It invades your home and you find it everywhere, forever. FOREVER. Try to find a birthday card that doesn't have glitter on it. I dare you. God forbid you need one for a girl child. Christmas is a land mine. Everywhere is glitter from now until the 7th of January.</li>
<li><b>Vibram Five Fingers</b>. I'm going to rope toe socks in here as well. I have a hard time with flip-flops, for that matter. I just don't like my happy little family of toes to be separated from each other. It makes me feel icky.</li>
<li><b>Belts</b>. Your belt is fine for you. But I don't like things around my middle. It might in part be because I'm a sloucher and it cuts at my belly button. But really, either your pants fit you or they don't. </li>
<li><b>Literally</b>. Generally when someone says this, they actually mean the opposite. It's also strangely contagious, like yawning.</li>
<li><b>Partial dampness</b>. I absolutely HATE it when I'm washing my hands and I get a sleeve wet, or when water runs down in your shoe and gets your sock wet. Or you splash water on your pants. True story: when we were in Iceland wandering around at the foot of a glacier, I got too close to someone else and we both sunk into the mud. That water was <b>cold</b>. Also, I just couldn't deal with a cold wet sock and foot so I hoofed it back to the car and waited there while everyone else climbed on the glacier. Some people still won't let that die, and that was in 2007.</li>
<li><b>Turning nouns into verbs</b>. Text is not a verb. It is a noun. You compose a text, you type a text, you write a text, you even send a text. But you do not text.</li>
<li><b>People touching my face</b>. This is just one of those places that seems very intimate and personal and I'd really rather you not touch it. Sometimes I have to suppress the urge to slap Mr. Bump's hand away when he touches it, and I love him. (Sorry hon.) I've never had a facial. I practically have to take a valium when I have my eyebrows done. But needs must, people. I do that for you.</li>
<li><b>The space challenged</b>. You know the people who take up almost the entire aisle in the Whole Foods. Cart parked in the middle at an angle that makes it impossible to get by. And they always seem to be staring intently at something above them, but facing away from you so they aren't able to acknowledge your existence. </li>
<li><b>Bad smells.</b> I'm pretty sensitive to smell. If someone has been toking up before they get on the bus, and they sit down anywhere near me, I'll be nauseous before the bus makes its first turn. In downtown Denver on the 16th Street Mall there is an Aveda training salon that smells very very Aveda-y. Oils and essences, an herbal explosion. In the summer, the hot garbage smell drifting out of the alley next to the Aveda school mixes with the herbal essence explosion that makes for a smell that... ack. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit thinking about it. Moving on.</li>
<li>I really want to have a tenth thing just so it comes out to ten but I can't think of anything right now. I'll update later if something comes to me. Not having a tenth thing bugs me. There you go.</li>
</ol>
Ok, tell me what bugs you? Does anyone share my crazy?Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-91132513647522458102011-11-20T22:08:00.001-07:002011-11-20T22:21:45.756-07:00sundayToday involved much baking. Much baking. Mr. Bump and I made a batch of brownies, a batch of bar cookies, a miserable failure of a batch of chocolate chip cookies (my nemesis, I tell you!), and a whole lot of pumpkin bread. <br />
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<br />
<br />
I made some of the pumpkin bread into muffins and glazed them with a
cream cheese glaze. I baked a loaf of pumpkin bread and made a batch of
them in my mini bundt pan too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proof of the barefoot baking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The mini-bundt pan ones came out really cute drizzled with glaze. You would think all that baking would be enough to exhaust us, but we managed to make and can 6 pints of applesauce and 3 of apple butter. And roast a chicken and root vegetables. And make a trip to Costco.<br />
<br />
And one other small detail. We groomed the dog and cut her hair, which is such a long and arduous process that we all have to go to our separate corners afterwards and meditate for awhile. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but the hair gets everywhere. And when we're done, we have enough hair leftover for a whole separate dog.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This actually wasn't from today, but I'd say there was probably more hair than that tonight.</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
And now it's the tail end of Sunday, and I must admit this weekend was satisfactory. We got a lot accomplished and we had a date and roasted a chicken. And canned some applesauce. We are Superheroes of Sunday, I tell you.<br />
<br />Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-65508314371697671522011-11-19T20:17:00.001-07:002011-11-19T20:34:19.940-07:00date nightMr. Bump and I just got home after a long date. It's been a fabulous day.<br />
<br />
After sleeping in this morning and a leisurely breakfast, we drove down to Boulder to visit <a href="http://www.mcguckin.com/" target="_blank">McGuckin's </a>Hardware, which is always a great place to wander around. A hardware store that's so much more than that, both of us usually find something or other we want. After that we had lunch at Smashburger and wandered down to the Pearl Street Mall. Any time we're in Boulder we generally have two stops. The first is McGuckin's, the second is <a href="http://www.peppercorn.com/" target="_blank">The Peppercorn</a>. They've got all sorts of kitchen stuff, all of it interesting, most of which I covet. Today we got out of there with a few cookie cutters, a new whisk and spatula, some measuring spoons and a couple of Christmas gifts. We found another little store on the mall that sells Toms, and since I've ravaged my last pair within an inch of their lives, I bought a pair (this time gray instead of red--hopefully they'll age better) and then another pair because they were on sale and woobie on the inside. It was that kind of day.<br />
<br />
This evening we had a date night, which is so rare we couldn't remember the last time we had one. We had a Groupon-thingy through Amazon local for a local restaurant called <a href="http://www.venuebistro.com/" target="_blank">Venue bistro</a>. It was really yummy. I had a spinach salad with pepitas and goat cheese, with a Lion Stout vinaigrette. Mr. Bump had a cheese plate with fruit, nuts and homemade lahvosh. For dinner I had a worcestershire glazed pork chop with barley risotto with cheddar cheese, apple and pear. Mr. Bump opted for gnocchi bolognese. Normally when we go to dinner there is a winner declared for who ordered the best dish. Sometimes we get lucky and each of us likes what we ordered more than the other. And rarely, we both love both dishes and get to share. Tonight was the night for that. <br />
<br />
None of the desserts, however, looked interesting, which was a pity. But I had the idea to wander down the street to <a href="http://www.generousservings.com/Apres.html" target="_blank">Apres Dessert Bar.</a> You got it, a restaurant that focuses most of it's menu on dessert. You can get small dinner plates too, but after all dessert is in it's name. Mr. Bump got the belgian waffle with butter pecan ice cream, maple syrup and maple candy. I ordered the banana bread french toast with oatmeal ice cream, spiced apple butter, and candied rice krispie treat. As far as I'm concerned, it was no contest. I won. Oatmeal ice cream? Ah.maze.ing. Crispy cubes of banana bread, and candied rice krispie treat? Fan. Tas. Tic. The piece de resistance, however, was the spiced apple butter, which married it all together. Yum. Mr. Bump's was good too, but not as good, I'm afraid to say. If you haven't been here, go try it. It's only open on the weekends, from 2pm to midnight, but soooo good.<br />
<br />
And now, it's 8:30, I'm already sleepy, and the skinny jeans were a really bad idea. If I'm not careful, I could pop a button and put an eye out.<br />
<br />
How's Operation Swimsuit going, you ask? Yeah. I'm not gonna talk about that tonight. Maybe when I come down off my sugar high. I know I'm not the best role model, but you know what? Some days look like this. And you just have to deal with it.<br />
<br />
Really, that dessert was worth it. And the pork chop risotto was nothing to shake a stick at either. Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-26059245808819013042011-11-18T22:06:00.001-07:002011-11-18T22:11:15.656-07:00maybe baby<h3 class="post-title entry-title">
*<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is a re-post from one of my first handful of blog posts from April 2006. I've never done a re-post before but, I'm tired of trying to scrape together a topic. There, I said it. Anyway, I thought this was interesting to read five years later. Our ship may have sailed on babymaking (and I can't remember the last time I had that dream), but there are always what ifs. Let me know what you think on the subject.* </span><br />
</h3>
<div class="post-header">
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Last night I had one of those nights where you keep falling back into
the same dream--dreaming the same thing over and over, waking up, and
then falling back into the dream. It was a clear case of knowing why I
was dreaming what I was dreaming, but not really knowing or wanting to
know what it might mean. It felt like someone kept pushing my face
underwater--I would struggle to wake up out of it and then I would just
fall back under.<br />
<br />
The dream is fading now but I know it involved a
baby--an infant--and breastfeeding, and a feeling of ineptitude with
regard to the ability to not just care for the infant, but to remember
that it needed caring for. At one point I went out and left the baby
sleeping. The baby didn't seem to cry or make noise--it was like a
doll. A placeholder. So it seems pretty obvious what the dream is
"about," although I'm not sure that the conscription of narrative and
meaning on what is so obviously non-narrative and disjointed is wholly
appropriate.<br />
<br />
The question of children--to breed or not to
breed--has been on our minds a great deal lately. We are entering the
age of life where nearly everyone we know has had children or is having
children. At this point, we only know one couple who are married but
have not made that leap. We feel a bit adrift. Currently we are
reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060737816/sr=8-1/qid=1144085414/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-4706953-7450565?%5Fencoding=UTF8">this book</a>, which, while timely, is not necessarily making our minds up one way or another.<br />
<br />
Tell
me how you know to have children? What are the reasons for it? Why
have children at all? What makes it the "right time" in your life, your
circumstances of place and situation? Am I treading water, waiting?
Or is it not meant to be for us? Do we just not want it badly enough to
justify what comes with procreation? Is it safe? Does it matter if it
isn't? I want to know if anyone thinks about the world their children
will inherit when they make the decision. How do you shrug that off or
make it ok? Will it make me happy? Will it hurt the happiness I
already have? What if it changes me? What if it doesn't?<br />
<br />
Sometimes
I think I do want parenthood, and all that it entails. I think that it
would make things easier, in some ways. You have a defined role: in
your house, in society, in the world. Everyone knows that you are a
Mother, and what that means. But then another part of me wants to make
my own path, my own role. I want to decide who I want to be. I know
that I don't have to be the "mother" as anyone else defines it. I know
that. But I also know that it is easier to walk a path that is already
beaten down than one that you have to forge yourself.<br />
<br />
But I also
would want it for other reasons, too. I would want it for baby smells
and a boy who looked like Mr. Bump, with those same hands that his
father and his brother have, and he has too. I would want it for
teaching someone, and that moment when suddenly you are learning from
them. I would want it for heated arguments about political beliefs, for
watching someone shape who they are, which parts align with yours,
which parts are against yours. I would want it for the experience of
the whole thing, baths and meals and games and tears and hugs and
letting them go. I would want it for my parents' sake, even though
they have never pushed a desire for grandchildren on me. I would want
it for the people I hope I could raise children to be in the world, and
how they might change it in ways the world wouldn't change if they
didn't exist. I would want it for hope.<br />
<br />
There is the other side
of me, too. There is the side which doesn't want to have to discipline
anyone, is frankly afraid of what kind of damage she could do to someone
who is wholly dependent upon my guidance. It is the side that loves my
life with Mr. Bump, loves the freedom we have in what we spend our
money on, and where we can travel to. It is the side that can sit for a
whole afternoon reading a book, letting silence fill the space around
me. It is the side which likes its nap, doesn't like to share, doesn't
like a mess. It is also the side that loves Mr. Bump so much and
worries about how children tax a relationship, how they change it. How
they strain a marriage financially, emotionally, physically.<br />
<br />
If
we had gotten pregnant by accident, I can't tell you what we would have
done, but we are careful people and that hasn't happened. It probably
never will. And so it is up to us which way we want to turn. We don't
have (thankfully) any pressure from parents or families for
grandchildren. We are left to our own decision-making devices. Some
days I'm tempted to flip a coin, I'm so ambivalent.<br />
<br />
But Mr. Bump
is much more cautious about the whole thing. I think initially when I
met him he understood that someday he would get married, have children,
etc. But then he met me, and I imparted the beliefs that I had had
since I was eight or so, which were, "Why have children? Not for me." I
think he challenged his own beliefs and was won over to mine. Now he
claims I did too good a job convincing him he didn't want kids. I
understand how he feels and my feelings are so of two minds that I am on
his side and I am not, all at the same time.<br />
<br />
I want someone to
tell me the answer but I know there is not really anyone who can. And
so I dream this dream, probably at least once or twice a month, where I
lose a baby, or I think I'm pregnant but I don't ever look pregnant, or
something like that. And I know that dreaming about that baby doesn't
mean that I want a baby. But I wish it did. It would be so much easier
that way.<br />
<br />
P.S.--I have heard that there are all these people out
there reading this blog--directed there by one of my dear friends. But
I have yet to hear from any of you--you ghost readers. In the world of
forums and blogs you're called lurkers. It seems to me that I could
use your help--tell me what you think about what I think. I'm never
above hearing other people's opinions, thoughts, advice. Please. I
don't bite. (Unless you ask me to, that is.)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Originally posted April 3, 2006.</i></span>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-71722230392140253162011-11-16T22:45:00.001-07:002011-11-16T22:55:50.633-07:00over itI've successfully made it through half of the month of blogging every day. I'm over the hump. I am also very tired. I left the house this morning at 6:27. I made it back home tonight at 9:40. I spent 4 1/2 hours at work, an hour for lunch with Mr. Bump, 4 1/2 hours working in the afternoon, then went to my hair stylist after going to the post office. After two hours with the Best Stylist in the Universe, I drove over to pick up a friend, and then we drove over to the hospital and spent an hour with a friend who's in the ICU. We sat in the car and chatted for a bit, and then I got home at 9:40. Then I ate cereal and cheese and crackers for dinner.<br />
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I thought I'd throw up a couple of pictures of my new hair and call it good for a blog post. Days like today don't make blogging every day easy. I'm just really exhausted.<br />
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Then I spent 30 minutes posing for Mr. Bump because there is no such thing as a "quick photo of my new hair" apparently. Anyway, enjoy. It's getting long. I'm glad to get some color back in it.<br />
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<br /></div>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-60425905465952315102011-11-15T18:49:00.001-07:002011-11-15T22:55:01.928-07:00testing...testing...testingI'm finally sitting down to write about my date with the <a href="http://www.uch.edu/conditions/bones-joints-muscle/sportsmedicine/human-performance-lab/">Exercise Physiology and Human Performance Laboratory</a>. I can't believe it's been a week and a half. Cripes. Fair warning, this is a long one. If you're interested, (all four of you), click through after the jump break. It's a long post, so if you don't want to read the whole thing, the short version is: I need to go slower, if I want to get faster. And I need to lay off the M&Ms (actually, that one's all me. We didn't talk about nutrition.). But I will get there, eventually, on the M&Ms.<br>
<br>
<br>
<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/testingtestingtesting.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-13034946761426539902011-11-14T14:20:00.001-07:002011-11-14T14:25:10.686-07:00photo booth fun Some more shots from the wedding the other night. These are fun. I actually have some other things to talk about which will happen soon. But man I love this dress. Here's another opportunity to gaze upon it's loveliness.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wasn't really choking her, I promise.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3zYGTg40FmwTPRBu9LB-LEC2RTFJf1ODfU1udCVzcktuWfvuZh4FEXNksulZVfO1SNh9skvuEXdZWmFEa_tLzJjfpNaFRFF4f2FM6CHdz2W3Jwd4Q5D-8kafu_aX0TONcmLlZg/s1600/L%2526D3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3zYGTg40FmwTPRBu9LB-LEC2RTFJf1ODfU1udCVzcktuWfvuZh4FEXNksulZVfO1SNh9skvuEXdZWmFEa_tLzJjfpNaFRFF4f2FM6CHdz2W3Jwd4Q5D-8kafu_aX0TONcmLlZg/s400/L%2526D3.JPG" width="262" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4nUr_S-oQggO8Fu8gB8sXCeMVB20EL0DLxEgLz3hulztzJXEShkc_6BHzesF_Ag1ADcjZcIm5UzZqNkHl7VRtnLtOycCeEdR_65bvzHf1R3U5pwEN8HuI5P1iDKj-B5IWcyPFQ/s1600/L%2526M2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4nUr_S-oQggO8Fu8gB8sXCeMVB20EL0DLxEgLz3hulztzJXEShkc_6BHzesF_Ag1ADcjZcIm5UzZqNkHl7VRtnLtOycCeEdR_65bvzHf1R3U5pwEN8HuI5P1iDKj-B5IWcyPFQ/s400/L%2526M2.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? I love my mama</td></tr>
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<br />Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-33489731463957454562011-11-13T21:48:00.001-07:002011-11-13T22:07:05.207-07:00I have so many things I want to talk about but I waited too late and I'm too tired to get into any of them very far, but I'll give you a preview of coming attractions. To the bullets!<br />
<ul>
<li>I met with an exercise physiologist (<a href="http://www.uch.edu/conditions/bones-joints-muscle/sportsmedicine/human-performance-lab/profile-of-performance-lab-director/">Dr. Inigo San Millan</a>)
on Friday, to go over the results of my V02 max and lactate threshold
tests I did the Friday before. It was fascinating stuff, and is
basically rocking my world in terms of what I need to do to get faster.
I'm going to be changing things up for the next three months to get me
where I'll need to be to train for a spring marathon. I can't wait to
tell you all about it but it's complicated, and I want to explain the
science right, and also I'm waiting for him to email me the report
because he had to fix some things.<br />
</li>
<li>I ran tonight for the second time this week, and despite being
slightly underdressed (no arm warmers/sleeves and it was windy), it was a
good 4 1/2 miler. The shorter runs are always easier, but now I know <i>why</i>. Fascinating stuff, I'm telling you.</li>
<li>I baked a chocolate cinnamon bundt cake (four small ones, actually)
and then 8 small loaves of pumpkin bread. Anyone want some pumpkin
bread? I have lots.</li>
<li>I am so tired. We slept in until 8 this morning, something I don't
think I've done in months. It was delicious. And yet, I'm still so
tired.<br />
</li>
<li>I hate these Mondays. This week is Term of Court, on of five we have
a year, which means I have to dress up like a grown-up, and I'm not
looking forward to it. Normally it snows during this week every year, so
thankfully the weather shouldn't be too awful. But still it's heels all
week.</li>
<li>I do have Friday off, so technically not all week. But still.</li>
<li>I'm finally seeing my hair stylist on Tuesday. I can't wait to get my firecracker back.</li>
</ul>
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Ok, that's all I've got for tonight. Sorry. I'll try harder to be brilliant tomorrow.</div>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-20350565658504931602011-11-12T22:07:00.001-07:002011-11-12T22:23:14.839-07:00just hanging<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZizAHeTZuyCwe9J1L0ZW8qdVsFSouRJScodBz1q60Nd_4PHVGe_AtmABgERHIglyP2wHFKpfQPMjZn3PoZKGERDlVAU5eXV8bn7W0nrNISSlFnHcI8QgQySzEn0b5yurIkvZlg/s1600/G12_IMG_0639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZizAHeTZuyCwe9J1L0ZW8qdVsFSouRJScodBz1q60Nd_4PHVGe_AtmABgERHIglyP2wHFKpfQPMjZn3PoZKGERDlVAU5eXV8bn7W0nrNISSlFnHcI8QgQySzEn0b5yurIkvZlg/s400/G12_IMG_0639.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After some gatorade, some advil, and some quality time with my mom and dad for my dad's 77th(!) birthday, I'm finally feeling better. But this morning was rough. My tolerance for alcohol seems to be somewhere between two and three glasses of wine. Shame last night I had a gin & tonic and three (possibly four--it was an open bar and I lost track at some point) glasses of wine. That falls squarely in much too much alcohol.<br />
<br />
But we had a fun time at the wedding party, and a great day with my folks, including breakfast, a trip to IKEA, some card playing and a birthday dinner. They've gone home, and I'm about spent, so I don't have anything more to say tonight. So I'll leave you with another gem of a photo.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcZEOpOWN3N0vbhgUzS2ZpL0ABL3NRvix0pAy7eAIbiWknocvvgBF15y6VaUD0tdkKmxzD9uBzQuT9r1df2VlLRnJV76poXaKQxnEw300Na3fW1tVutpBTw2Jdkk6j-SPoJ3DPA/s1600/G12_IMG_0637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcZEOpOWN3N0vbhgUzS2ZpL0ABL3NRvix0pAy7eAIbiWknocvvgBF15y6VaUD0tdkKmxzD9uBzQuT9r1df2VlLRnJV76poXaKQxnEw300Na3fW1tVutpBTw2Jdkk6j-SPoJ3DPA/s400/G12_IMG_0637.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
We'll have to talk about the dress later. It was fabulous and wonderful and worth every penny. Sadly this was the best full photo of it that I found on my camera or Mr. Bump's. Perhaps there were paparazzi somewhere and I'll find some more pics in next week's US Weekly. Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-4507966560630500292011-11-11T23:12:00.001-07:002011-11-11T23:12:59.097-07:00proof<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79jHpdIY-ijxV7naQaHRuemDIuoocMZf_On_M-VfOhwzWZS0p2xjLlp0ibhhrnuYWIbODWEASr3qp3QoUK77RJp8wSiqmtnClrhusKjAuWb2Fr5Ex3rteEDCoH2chixn8dEYmYw/s1600/G12_IMG_0648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79jHpdIY-ijxV7naQaHRuemDIuoocMZf_On_M-VfOhwzWZS0p2xjLlp0ibhhrnuYWIbODWEASr3qp3QoUK77RJp8wSiqmtnClrhusKjAuWb2Fr5Ex3rteEDCoH2chixn8dEYmYw/s320/G12_IMG_0648.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
That Mr. Bump does have a boogie woogie bone in his body. Much fun. Very drunk. More later.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-55745881890182851322011-11-10T20:27:00.001-07:002011-11-10T22:31:37.368-07:00tenacious L<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClgilqCRYNykaJt1aQJ9RK0WQR3R-bIjCVPo1DxyVqE_hO7Xp3aewh2vDWjxWmHWVi1laMhk5B053zup1EjUiLapfZppSp12VJxTr02yDyjj6vShbtI2dxIOpi85OpFZyTpLfOQ/s1600/Pb1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClgilqCRYNykaJt1aQJ9RK0WQR3R-bIjCVPo1DxyVqE_hO7Xp3aewh2vDWjxWmHWVi1laMhk5B053zup1EjUiLapfZppSp12VJxTr02yDyjj6vShbtI2dxIOpi85OpFZyTpLfOQ/s320/Pb1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Back in March of 2000, Mr. Bump and I made our love real and signed a lease on a teeny tiny 2 bedroom apartment. We had a short list: dishwasher, washer and dryer, garbage disposal, pets ok, and 2 bedrooms. We managed to get all of these things in the smallest possible square footage imaginable. But we were young and in love and flush with the joys of cohabitating. The only flaw was that we shared a furnace with the landlord, who had what he termed as a "workspace" in the basement. It wouldn't be a big deal, though, because he wasn't there all the time. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7eYBhMNcPSusfh6_1OMzSXoZYEfhG-I4I8myD5EN7-KlqYgke_yVxdZMfZta1fn1G_EVu0rkEw4OESTScMtQQE1KqYDyP7V0ahm2N8Q-L-kxgR9VNPBtvGIXfE3xZqqfnFksHg/s1600/Pit_of_Despair.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7eYBhMNcPSusfh6_1OMzSXoZYEfhG-I4I8myD5EN7-KlqYgke_yVxdZMfZta1fn1G_EVu0rkEw4OESTScMtQQE1KqYDyP7V0ahm2N8Q-L-kxgR9VNPBtvGIXfE3xZqqfnFksHg/s400/Pit_of_Despair.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Except that he was. He was there all the time, nights, weekends. All. The. Time. And guess what? He had control over the thermostat. Which wasn't so bad in the summer, but in the winter our apartment was about 150 degrees, because <i>I don't know if you know this</i> but HEAT RISES. So he'd crank it up and we'd crank it down and scratch our heads. We also scratched our heads at the heat bill.<br />
<br />
There were other things too. He liked to smoke pot down there. Like, often. He enjoyed frying fish. A lot of fish. Some evenings were both fish AND pot. And did I mention that we shared a ventilation system? Basically, we discovered over time, that we were living above our landlord's man cave. It took us nine months to start looking for a place to buy. Unfortunately, what we finally ended up buying was a new home that's foundation was still a dream. We weren't able to close on it until July of the next year. It felt like the house that would never be built.<br />
<br />
This is all backstory, by the way. The other bit of backstory is that when we moved in to the place, the previous renter didn't clean the apartment, and he didn't have it cleaned before we moved in. He promised he'd "make it right" with our deposit when we moved out. <br />
<br />
So we FINALLY close, move all our stuff out, and rent a carpet cleaner. I clean the carpets, but they're pretty dirty in a couple of places, mostly because there were only a few places where we could sit and put our feet. I leave a message for the landlord about when I can get the deposit back. I get a call from the landlord saying that the carpets were pretty dirty, and maybe I could just rent one of those carpet cleaners from Home Depot. I explained to him that I had actually already done that, but he just kept saying "you know you can just rent them for the day at the Home Depot..." <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRrnrgHyzkvQDvaSsJqKBC8yGyNM-j69hTSuysr66PN480iVMEMdin6vZkyyHGF41aOuIdcecuX9bIRL-zjyjT-be-V2kWKxbE3bRf9R7dhslnsDBCdDd3Gn5DtmKPCGhUTtz8g/s1600/wallace+shawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRrnrgHyzkvQDvaSsJqKBC8yGyNM-j69hTSuysr66PN480iVMEMdin6vZkyyHGF41aOuIdcecuX9bIRL-zjyjT-be-V2kWKxbE3bRf9R7dhslnsDBCdDd3Gn5DtmKPCGhUTtz8g/s400/wallace+shawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can clearly rent a carpet cleaner from Home Depot!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Eventually I got so frustrated I just told Mr. Bump to deal with him, because he was chicking me. That's the term I just coined for when some asshole treats you like a girl and pats you on the head. So maybe he won, because I threw up my hands after three rounds of I. RENTED. A. CARPET. CLEANER. ALREADY. Mr. Bump's way of dealing with him was just to let it go. Let the deposit go, move on, concentrate on our beautiful brand new home and our new life together. He let the pot-smoking, heat-jacking, fish-frying bastard go. Can you guess that in some ways my husband and I are not at all like?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLKIeiXnoq-RFnGAO6GfUThQM856LfH2kpuvxRfwhKXmkfaFallAC0wxOQuo4ntO2OUS-no5aZ7hpWTGxjpmqIrCJGNWmJYh_BiQhDJPYZJBq4OZRPJt4uKYKC_qMElJyu2DZSw/s1600/inigo+fezzik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLKIeiXnoq-RFnGAO6GfUThQM856LfH2kpuvxRfwhKXmkfaFallAC0wxOQuo4ntO2OUS-no5aZ7hpWTGxjpmqIrCJGNWmJYh_BiQhDJPYZJBq4OZRPJt4uKYKC_qMElJyu2DZSw/s400/inigo+fezzik.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, he IS taller than me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In case you're not keeping track, let me remind you that this was ten years ago. Have I let it go?<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJbM0hB2xqgumii5IYQUH7PswDVYVZ8FdEODmf-CiclMA3nZEOuzMvlvrHSMh0GmJzGW2KfKQbK9hqhcgWcrh2LN6qjxxZ3x-R0gcdvY-yuITUl2Agc1yX-P_mGfv73RU8soEgQ/s1600/InigoMontoya1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJbM0hB2xqgumii5IYQUH7PswDVYVZ8FdEODmf-CiclMA3nZEOuzMvlvrHSMh0GmJzGW2KfKQbK9hqhcgWcrh2LN6qjxxZ3x-R0gcdvY-yuITUl2Agc1yX-P_mGfv73RU8soEgQ/s400/InigoMontoya1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My name is Mrs. Bump. You have my deposit. Prepare to die.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mostly. <br />
<br />
I tell you this story to illuminate an aspect of my character. I will admit it's not actually one of my finer attributes, but I have a hard time letting things go. Like a pit bull whose teeth have been coated in super glue. Poor Mr. Bump just doesn't understand why I waste so much of my energy on something so CLEARLY not worth my energy. I honestly can't help myself. I'd rather be able to shrug things off rather than obsess about them. But I'm not wired that way.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfipW3N9DHrtNMVR168dV5UMcobgvka-YfRXxaR2LBClzlLijvEiTb1R1fFaPkZY7zJmOf0Y94n4SrWpFwRYDrY6-0pYywFlZyDBCYUdXOmgtAC8rSKspLhGtEiPvgAOLYnQZuw/s1600/the-pit-of-despair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfipW3N9DHrtNMVR168dV5UMcobgvka-YfRXxaR2LBClzlLijvEiTb1R1fFaPkZY7zJmOf0Y94n4SrWpFwRYDrY6-0pYywFlZyDBCYUdXOmgtAC8rSKspLhGtEiPvgAOLYnQZuw/s400/the-pit-of-despair.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not wired this way, either.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The flip side of this aspect of my personality is that I can train for and run a marathon. I can lose 106 pounds. I can re-book a cancelled flight on a transatlantic cell phone call from an Icelandic backwater motel, despite being hung up on several times. If you need help storming the castle, I'm your girl. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have fun baking without dairy! Think it'll taste good? It would take a miracle.</td></tr>
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And seriously, if you need a vegan baked good, I will knock that shit out or die trying. Just don't expect me to make you pot brownies.<br />Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-34666164904337585562011-11-10T07:30:00.002-07:002011-11-10T07:30:52.702-07:00fun with vegans<i>(I posted this last night but there were edits so I'm re-posting it today. But it was posted yesterday. No cheating. Swearsies.)</i><br>
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So my brother-in-law is getting married on Friday, which should be great fun, with a photo booth, a surf rock band, yummy food, and a kick-ass wedding cake. In this day and age, however, it isn't enough to have a kick-ass wedding cake. You also need to have Options. Options for the gluten-free folks. Options for the lactose intolerant folks. And options for the vegans.<br>
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I have been tasked with making some pumpkin cupcakes for the vegans who are coming to the wedding, which sounds like a great and fun baking adventure. I love a good baking adventure. Really I do. I'm pretty good at whipping up someone's dream dessert, be it baklava or boston cream pie. You ask for it, I bake it.<br>
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But baking vegan is hard, yo. Not hard from a construction standpoint. Generally the recipes don't require a mixer, even. But hard from a flavor standpoint. A vegan cupcake, I have learned, is invariably somewhat gummy. It may also have an oddly chemical aftertaste. And don't get me started on the shortening frosting. It goes against everything in me to make frosting with shortening. I fall firmly in the "butter makes the batter better" camp.<br>
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I have a mini-vegan rant that goes along the lines of if you're giving up animal products and by-products, then why eat "fake" food? Why not just cut things that have eggs and butter and whatnot out of your diet? I wouldn't want to live in a world without baked goods. But I think the substitutes aren't very good. These cupcakes, while pretty, are not in the same zip code as the one's I'd make with eggs and butter. Not in the same country. Possibly different solar systems. Is it healthier to give up baked goods altogether if you can't have butter or eggs, or should you eat processed foods like shortening and "buttery sticks" and milk made out of things that aren't milk? I don't know--I really don't.<br>
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<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/fun-with-vegans_10.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-79529334275456442512011-11-08T22:10:00.001-07:002011-11-08T22:10:48.337-07:00travel tuesday: romeAfter my post about <a href="http://www.nevermindthebumps.com/2011/11/cinque-terre.html">Cinque Terre</a> last week, I was going to talk about somewhere other than Italy this week, but I was chatting with a co-worker about Rome this afternoon, and I got that heart ache. The one where you conjure up an image of somewhere and you get a little all senses memory hit. <br />
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The way the light filters into the Pantheon, a cool stream of light that cuts a swath across the floor.<br />
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The cool humidity coming off the Trevi Fountain at dusk. It's bustling with people all hours of the day, but it seems like a party in the evening. People eat gelato, chat with each other. It doesn't feel quite as much a "get out of my photo-op" as it did earlier in the day.<br />
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It was nice to maneuver out of the way of everyone else's photos and just people watch. The photo below is where we were standing to take the photo above.<br />
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The pure sound of silence in the Sistine Chapel when you're the only ones there.<br />
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(I don't have a picture of this one since photos aren't allowed in the Sistine Chapel, but my memories of it are as much about the sounds of that room as they are the magnificent ceiling.) I'll throw in a photo of the Swiss Guard for you, how's that?<br />
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The music of the rollerbladers in the Borghese Gardens, mingling with the taunts they shout at each other, egging the next one over or under the limbo stick.<br />
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The taste of the gelato we bought across the street from Largo Argentina, which we ate while we strolled around and counted feral cats in the ruins.<br />
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The late afternoon light at the Colosseum, as the shade began to climb upwards.<br />
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The nearly unbelievable expanse of St. Peter's Basilica. The longer you're standing in it the larger you realize it is.<br />
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Rome is so very old. It's ruins piled on ruins and then a 500 year old building newly built on top of that. Like New York City, it has it's own way of making you feel small. </div>
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But more than small, it makes you feel how transient life is. These ruins have been here for thousands of years. And they'll be here for a thousand more after we die. They will outlast us. </div>
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I think it would be amazing to live in a city like that, one that is always reminding you that you're only here for a moment, the smallest grain of time. There is a certain kind of Italian shrug (very different from the French one, I think), that says "eh, we're all going to die. What are you going to do about it?"</div>
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I guess I understand that. You walk by the Pantheon every day, or take the metro by the Colosseum to get to work, then you're constantly being reminded of that fact. </div>
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On our last day in Rome, we went up to the Borghese Gardens to see the view of Rome, and wander around like the Romans do on a Sunday afternoon. We sat down for a moment to rest our feet after a long day of walking, and we saw ourselves. </div>
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At least, a version of ourselves, 30+ years from now. While I hope we're laughing more than these two did when we're their age, I hope we love each other as much as they seemed to love each other.</div>
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When I say "We saw ourselves in Rome," I of course mean this little interlude, but also I think we felt the possibility of a life there, in amongst the ruins. </div>
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I know one thing. We'll certainly be going back to Rome. Hopefully soon.</div>
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*All photos are either mine or Mr. Bump's much more fabulous ones. The full set of Italy photos can be found on <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/davidbump/sets/72157625351754700/">his Flickr site.</a></div>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-2194154801634386622011-11-07T22:10:00.000-07:002011-11-07T22:10:38.632-07:00seven days is all she wroteWell, apparently I have about seven days worth of posts in me. Yeah, I know. To the bullets!<br />
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<li>Today went better than yesterday in the food department, but it still could have been better. I'm trying to reduce snacking, and I made it to 3:45 before I had one--a string cheese. But it was kind of a gateway to a handful of crackers, a cup of cocoa (it was cold in the office!). There were a few graham crackers this evening, too. But today was better. </li>
<li>Something in my right foot is hurting, and I'm stiff up and down my right side. Perhaps Mr. Bump's been kicking me in my sleep? Since walking isn't too fun, I didn't run tonight. </li>
<li>I made some vegan pumpkin cupcakes tonight for a wedding on Friday. They were not good. If Mr. Bump doesn't finish a baked good, then it isn't good. Back to the drawing board.</li>
<li>The guy who won the ING New York City Marathon yesterday set a course record by two minutes, finishing in 2:05:05. His marathon time is 15 minutes less than my half marathon PR. Crazy.</li>
<li> I just finished the latest Alan Bradley book in the Flavia de Luce series:<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004X6PSCW/ref=docs-os-doi_0"> I Am Half-Sick of Shadows</a>. I love these books. Start with <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sweetness-at-Bottom-Pie/dp/0385342306">The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie.</a> The protagonist is an 11 year old girl who loves chemistry (especially poisons), her bicycle Gladys, and solving murders. Set in 1950s Britain, the one I just finished is the 4th so far. I love them all, but the first one is the best. Flavia is one of my all time favorite characters, I have to say. Alan Bradley talks about her as willful and fully formed. If he tries to get her to do something she doesn't want to, she just gives him a look of withering scorn. </li>
<li>I love my Kindle, really I do, but I often find if I'm reading a really excellent book, I don't realize how close I am to the end until I hit the next page button and there is no next page. Dismay is the word, I guess, that describes it. This happened to me in New Orleans with <u>Bossypants</u> by Tina Fey. Such a bummer. <u>I Am Half-Sick of Shadows</u> was much the same way. </li>
<li>Finally, this Daylight Savings Time is kicking my butt. I'm just fine with that extra hour in the morning, but I start to drag around 9:30. </li>
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On that bullet, I'll say goodnight, sir! I'll try harder tomorrow for an actual topic. <br />
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<br />Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-42161143774494999462011-11-06T19:53:00.001-07:002011-11-06T19:53:26.939-07:00the reminderIt's Sunday night. And for me, every week begins on Monday morning. So I'm going to try again tomorrow, to do better, to be healthier, and to lose some weight. <br />
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There are many, many times when I need this reminder. And not just about running. About dieting. About taking risks. About life. Tonight is one of them.<br />
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Suck it, negative self-talk.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-32259394464503092412011-11-05T18:34:00.000-06:002011-11-06T09:03:15.265-07:00this must be the place<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ours is the one in the middle with the big green tree in front.</td></tr>
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I have a happy place. It’s the place I let my guard down, kick off my shoes, brew a cup of tea and stare out the window. I bake a cake, read a book, take a nap, take a walk. It’s our cabin near Leadville and I love it. We love it. One of our loveliest, dearest friends named it Bumpalot, and I embraced the name immediately. It fits. <br />
<img height="341" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4154/5170895990_582a69f73a_o.jpg" style="display: block; float: none; margin: 0px auto 15px;" width="318" />We love it in the winter when we can strap on our snowshoes at the front door and set off over the drifts down across the frozen lake in front of the house, and over the mountain behind the house. Snowshoeing is a delight. You can take the beaten down path (if there is one) or you can just go overland. Across beaver dams, and straight down a hillside you could never traverse in the summer. It’s also a delight because the world is muffled by the snow, quiet and full. <br />
<img alt="These tracks are tiny--pea sized." height="335" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2344/2224353983_bdece776dd_o.jpg" style="display: block; float: none; margin: 0px auto 15px;" title="" width="326" />You can see tiny mouse tracks on the top of snow, impossibly small and light enough that the mouse doesn’t sink into the snow. I always get my shoes tangled at some point and pitch into a snowdrift, which is somehow also fun.<br />
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We love it in the summer when it’s 90 something degrees down in Denver, but up here the temperature drops every night and every morning is cloudless, bright blue and full of adventure. A bike ride, a hike, a run, a drive.<br />
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Ten or so miles down the road is Twin Lakes, with cute little weekend cabins and lots of fishermen. On the south side of the lake is a hiking trail that travels along the length of both lakes. The trail goes out to the remains of an old summer hotel called Interlaken, where people would come for the summer. There was a steamboat that brought people across the lake. Now all that is left are a few old buildings, and the owner’s old house, which has been refurbished by volunteers. Just after Mr. Bump and I got married we tried to hike over there with my friends Paige and Melissa. I didn’t make it the 4 miles out to Interlaken before I had to turn around. The first time I eventually made it out there felt amazing. Monumental. Like I could do anything.<br />
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Twenty miles or so south of Bumpalot in Buena Vista is Kay’s Dairy Delight. It’s only open seasonally and you have to order from the window in the front and sit at a picnic table in front along mainstreet or go sit in your car. The soft serve is lovely, especially after a hot day of hiking or driving around. But my favorite thing about it is the fact that they turn their broken ice cream cones into doggie cones. They’ll give your pooch a little soft serve cone for free if you ask, or even if you don’t ask but they see your dog.<br />
<img align="left" height="277" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6167/6183674357_f5a7c76da3_o.jpg" style="display: inline; float: left; margin: 5px 12px 0px 0px;" width="325" />We love it most especially in the fall when the house is surrounded by golden aspen and the valley, all the way up and down, is filled with red and gold and green. <br />
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There is a place we go every year in the fall, called Vicksburg, which is basically an really picturesque strip of log cabins. Usually by the time we make it down there they’re all closed up for the season, but somehow that seems just right. We take the dogs and walk up and down the grassy “street,” checking to see if anything has changed. I remember doing this with Mr. Bump’s dad, who died in 2000. I think their family has been doing it for a lot longer than that.<img align="left" alt="Us in Vicksburg in 2010" height="324" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4113/5025653021_4e3478263e_o.jpg" style="display: inline; float: left; margin: 12px 10px 0px 0px;" title="" width="429" /><br />
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But as much as I love all of the things we can do from here, the reason I love it most that we don’t have to do any of that. We don’t come up here as much in the spring (in part because the weather is more unpredictable) but when we do we tend to light a fire in the woodburning stove and curl up to read a book, because if it isn’t snowing then it’s melting and muddy. Although baking at 10,000 feet can be an adventure, I bake a lot up here, because I have the time to experiment and the kitchen, despite the ugliest of green formica counters, is lovely to bake in. There is lots of (ugly) counterspace, and a fantastically stocked kitchen. A pantry full of baking staples. It isn’t my dream kitchen, but it’s nice. <br />
<br />
We don’t have satellite so no TV, although we have a TV and dvd player and sometimes watch movies. We poach wireless off a generous neighbor who hasn’t enabled security on their network, so it’s spotty and we feel lucky if we get to check our email once in a while. There’s always a project we’re working on (and by we I mostly mean Mr. Bump and my mother-in-law). Lots of puttering happens. <br />
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You can do whatever you want, even if that means nothing. You can read a magazine, see a recipe for an apple cake in it, and bake it for dessert. No need to clip it out or write it down or fold over the page and hope you remember later. You can do it right then. You can take a nap without any shame (it’s almost a requirement). You can paint your toenails. You can throw the ball for the dog, who almost never tires of that game. <br />
<br />
Have you ever had a space like this? It’s kind of amazing to think about, which I guess I don’t that often. One of us, or both of us, acknowledge how lucky we are to have this place, every time we’re up here. <br />
<br />
The only thing about it that makes me sad at all is the fact that we haven’t shared it with more people. It’s a wonderful place. You should come visit. I’ll put the kettle on.<br />
<img alt="This is the view from our front windows." border="0" height="198" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6055/6313917436_ce165b6c10_o.jpg" style="background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="" width="605" />Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-50740831198725604232011-11-04T20:47:00.000-06:002011-11-04T20:51:26.862-06:00we've got tonight, babeI made some vague promises last night about me in a mask, which I fully intend to keep, but not tonight.<br>
<br>
Tonight I've got a little bit of a tickle in my throat, so it's all peppermint tea all the time. In addition to peppermint tea there <i>might</i> have been a Magnum ice cream bar. But really, we're closing down Bumpalot for the winter so these things have to be eaten. Have to. Also it soothes the sore throat, people. Dairy coats the throat. And hey, tomorrow is a new day.<br>
<br>
Tonight I'm curled up next to a wood burning stove that's merrily crackling away. It's actually 77 degrees in this room, which is about the temperature that we turn the air conditioner on down in Denver, but 77 degrees in front of the stove is wholly different from 77 degrees from the sun. Somehow.<br>
<br>
Tonight I finished a book, which isn't exactly a revelation but it was an ok book. It had well written bits. But it was also set in Denver by someone not from Colorado. She called it "UC-Boulder." If she had had anyone from Denver read the book, she would have been told how wrong that is. I'm not going to link to the book here since I don't want her to hate me. Because I have so many followers that I'm sure it would get back to her. But anyway it's CU-Boulder.<br>
<br>
Tonight I am missing good friends who live elsewhere (weighted heavily to the west coast). If I had three wishes (leprechaun <b>or </b>genie) I would use one of them to magic them up here next to this hot fire and hot tea. I'd figure out a way to get them back home again without using an additional wish, in case anyone is worried.<br>
<br>
Tonight I'm thinking about all the runners streaming into NYC for the marathon on Sunday. Some year I'll be there. I'm going to keep trying. If not before, then the year I turn 40 I'll have an automatic in, if I've entered the lottery every year but not been selected before then. It's on the bucket list. Eventually I will get there NYC. Bet on it.<br>
<br>
Tonight I've got at least four more books in my pile, my newest issues of Runner's World and Cooking Light, and Bridesmaids from Netflix. Hot beverage. Cold ice cream bar. Wool slippers. Snowy mountain out my window. A whole weekend ahead to enjoy it.<br>
<br>
Tonight is good, folks. Gimme five until tomorrow.<br>
<br>
Up high:<br>
<br>
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Down low:<br>
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<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/weve-got-tonight-babe.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-32144459565276704052011-11-03T23:06:00.000-06:002011-11-03T23:06:57.803-06:00some things are better left unsaidAnd unfortunately for all three of you, those are all the things I've got on my mind. It's late, and I've got to go run tomorrow with a big ol' mask on my face (more on this tomorrow). So I'll just show you some pretty shiny things and leave it at that. <br>
<br>
I know you're not supposed to play favorites, and truthfully all my medals have their place on my wall of racing, but I do have a few favorites.<br>
<br>
<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/some-things-are-better-left-unsaid.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-20181384406451299782011-11-02T21:10:00.000-06:002011-11-02T21:10:34.751-06:00confession timeI bet you're wondering how Operation Swimsuit is going. You're probably sitting there right now with your coffee in one hand and your leftover Halloween candy in the other, and pondering the vagaries of my most recent weight loss endeavor.<br>
<br>
No?<br>
<br>
<br>
<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/confession-time.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-53853712592084071532011-11-01T10:34:00.003-06:002011-11-01T10:52:04.130-06:00cinque terreI was toying with the idea of doing some posts about places we've traveled, in part because I'm going to try that NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) thing again, and in part because I've not talked much about it (although I always <i>mean to</i>), and it's a big part of our lives. Then last night I heard about the flooding in Cinque Terre, and my heart broke. This is such a beautiful region of Italy. The people were lovely, and each town was really special.<br>
<br>
From <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinque_Terre">Wikipedia</a>:<br>
<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The <b>Cinque Terre</b> is a rugged portion of coast on the Italian Riviera. It is in the Liguria region of Italy, to the west of the city of La Spezia. "The Five Lands" is composed of five villages: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monterosso_al_Mare" title="Monterosso al Mare">Monterosso al Mare</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vernazza" title="Vernazza">Vernazza</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corniglia" title="Corniglia">Corniglia</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manarola" title="Manarola">Manarola</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riomaggiore" title="Riomaggiore">Riomaggiore</a>. The coastline, the five villages, and the surrounding hillsides are all part of the Cinque Terre National Park and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.</blockquote>
The floods have devastated Monterosso al Mare and Vernazza completely, cars pushed into the first floor of buildings by the force of the mud and water. <br>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4131/5175570529_0761050060_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4131/5175570529_0761050060_o.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vernazza October 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://community.frommers.com/ver1.0/Content/images/store/8/6/a8679c62-154f-4eb9-86d1-e33f339dfef7.Medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://community.frommers.com/ver1.0/Content/images/store/8/6/a8679c62-154f-4eb9-86d1-e33f339dfef7.Medium.jpg" width="200"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vernazza post-flood <a href="http://www.frommers.com/community/forum.cfm/europe/italy/flash-floods-isolated-le-cinque-terre-closed-autostrade-tuscany-cut-off-train-service-along-riviera">(source)</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1247/5163511952_fcca3b44d1_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1247/5163511952_fcca3b44d1_o.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vernazza October 2010</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog.davidmcguffin.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/218-Italy-Monterosso-bldings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://blog.davidmcguffin.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/218-Italy-Monterosso-bldings.jpg" width="320"> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vernazza post-flood <a href="http://blog.davidmcguffin.com/2011/10/28/clean-up-from-flash-flood-in-vernazza/">(source)</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4129/5175566739_89c4be32c6_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4129/5175566739_89c4be32c6_o.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monterosso October 2010</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://margieinitaly.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/alluvione-monterosso-1.jpg?w=500&h=350" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://margieinitaly.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/alluvione-monterosso-1.jpg?w=500&h=350" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monterosso post flood <a href="http://margieinitaly.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/latest-news-and-more-photos-from-cinque-terre/">(source)</a> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr>
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For more images of the flood, you can check out <a href="http://photos.denverpost.com/mediacenter/2011/10/photos-major-flood-hits-northwestern-italy/#name%20here">this slideshow</a>. <br>
<br>
<a href="http://nevermindthebumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/cinque-terre.html#more">Read more »</a>Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-13259980289439533582011-10-20T14:09:00.000-06:002011-10-20T14:09:18.435-06:00team bump!I sadly don't have any pictures of these shirts in the wild, but here are the shirts I got for my spectators to wear in Portland and beyond.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFh-MD6XKzczWPN2BRHtEd3hvUszfJrPt2tm772ARNpxoj9Hhs9Nizp08FbqXHA3B7KQfyvWvrYnaZahDw6rv7EG0BaTPgd1u6lnUvK1ar9g-qABPOQgBQEvK93iVVZ_A3JyDuNA/s1600/TeamBump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFh-MD6XKzczWPN2BRHtEd3hvUszfJrPt2tm772ARNpxoj9Hhs9Nizp08FbqXHA3B7KQfyvWvrYnaZahDw6rv7EG0BaTPgd1u6lnUvK1ar9g-qABPOQgBQEvK93iVVZ_A3JyDuNA/s400/TeamBump.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Happily they can function as shirts for future events, even to support other Bumps in their spectator-worthy adventures. I ordered them from <a href="http://customink.com/">CustomInk.com</a> and I really thought they were good quality, although still on the pricey side for a t-shirt. They would have been cheaper if I'd bought more of them, but I can always order more later, and I'm doubting the demand will be extreme. I went for the cheapest of cotton t-shirts, although hoodies would have been a better bet given the weather. Even my dad wore one. It was was super cute on him. I think I'll make him my future model.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-78910263652723330092011-10-19T12:00:00.000-06:002011-10-19T12:00:06.943-06:00up next down the pike<br />
You probably aren't asking yourself any of these questions this morning, but I have, so I thought I'd share my answers.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Marathon again?</b> I'm still chasing that sub 5 hour
marathon. Honestly, I'm so keyed up about it right now I wish I could
run one tomorrow to try again. I'm not sure that would be helpful or
successful, but that's how I feel. I'm itching to go again. But the
reality is that I absolutely need to lose some weight if I want to get
faster. The speedwork and tempo runs I tried to use to get faster
injured me. And that's likely because I'm carrying 15-20 pounds more
than I should. (Before you object to that number, please re-visit horror
show photos the race.) If <a href="http://beginners.runnersworld.com/2011/10/how-does-weight-loss-affect-my-running-speed.html">10 pounds can give me nine minutes</a>
off my marathon finish time, then I should try very hard to lose 10
pounds. But next time I think I'll be doing a spring marathon again.
Training in the winter has its flaws, but I think I'm better with cold
weather running that hot. I just seem to fall apart in the heat.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Sea level marathon?</b> Most definitely. Of all the things
that were a struggle, breathing wasn't among them. It was nice. It
didn't give me a huge advantage time-wise, but it makes running feel so
much easier. I went for a "shake out" run on Thursday before the
marathon, and it was the best run I think I've ever had. Just 3 miles
but I felt like I was floating rather than running. It was a beautiful
thing. Having said that, never underestimate the course profile. I knew
there was a hill from mile 16-17, but until we drove the course on
Saturday I failed to grasp the steepness of that hill. It was on par
with parts of the Leadville Heavy Half. It wasn't steepish. It was
STEEP. And it was the beginning of the end, because that's where I
started walking. And once I start walking, it's walk/run from then on.<br />
<br />
<b>Larger marathon? </b>I absolutely loved all of the spectators
and support for this race, and even all of the company along the way
with other runners. I didn't chat a lot with other runners other than to
bitch about the weather a couple of times, but it's nice just being out
there with other people at your relative pace. It's a trade off because
it was nearly impossible for David to figure out where to meet me, and
apparently there was a long of cursing and u-turning the car to get to
mile 19. Would I rather see lots of people with great signs yelling my
name and ringing cowbells for complete strangers, or would I rather see
my husband three or four times along the course? Of course I would
prefer both, but he can't be with me all the time. He goes by in a
couple of seconds, whereas in a big race you are never really alone. <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>What now? </b>I always get the post-race-no-training-plan blues. This time, however, I'm implementing <u><b><span style="color: black;">Operation Swimsuit</span></b></u>
in preparation for our trip to Belize. (Did I tell you that we're going
to Belize in January? We're going to Belize in January.) What that means
is that I need to be jiggling that thigh until it jiggles off. I've
given myself this week to come down off the marathon, not exercising one
single little bit. Then we're back to counting calories, and burning
400-600 calories per day in cardio for the next three months. I'm also
going to be doing a whole lot of lunges and squats, based on those race
photos, I'll tell you that. I'm <strike>hoping to</strike> planning on
losing 10 pounds by January 11th. That's 90 days, almost precisely.
Twelve-ish weeks. That's less than a pound a week. I can do this. The
other goal of this is obviously to lose weight so that I can speed up,
and hurt less. <br />
<br />
I've run one race each month for the last 12 months. I was
planning on racing once a month this year for a 12 in 12 thing, but I'm
not sure if I'll do any more races this year. Maybe a couple of 5Ks,
but honestly I'm not even sure I want to do those. I love racing, but
I'm tired of the interruption it adds to my training for a longer race.
I've run six half-marathons this year. That's crazy. But also what's
crazy is that my times haven't gotten significantly better. Which tells
me that racing isn't the same as training, and I need to be working more
on the latter. It's hard, though. I get emails for races and I get the itch to register. It's difficult to resist, especially when a medal is involved.<br />
<br />
The other thing I want to do is volunteer for a race or two. I
always feel so grateful to the volunteers, but in the last year I've
raced 12 different events, and 12 different times complete strangers
supported me, cheered for me, congratulated me just because I had
entered a race. They don't get paid for it, and the certainly don't get
thanked adequately for it. It's a wonderful thing to do
and I want to pay that forward. I also hear stories from Mr. Bump or
other people who've come out to watch me race about seeing the whole
race, rather than just the bit I'm in, and I would love to see that.
It's hard to appreciate it as a great feat when you're in it--you're
just slogging through. But I think it will be obvious from the
sidelines.<br />
<br />
I actually emailed the people who run the <a href="http://www.winterdistanceseries.com/">Winter Distance Series</a>, which I ran last year. If you volunteer, they give you free entry into one of their races, so that's kind of awesome. I'm excited, even if it means standing out in the cold all morning on a Saturday in December, January, or February.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking about some yoga classes, and maybe joining a running group. Just to mix things up. I've never been a social runner, or for that matter a exercise class person, but maybe both will help. Neither is like a blood oath, so I think I'll live even if I hate them. I'm kind of awkward in group settings, and my last attempt at a running group resulted in me taking off on my own at about mile 3, so yeah. Not so good at that. But I do like running with a friend, being able to chat and therefore ignore that self-defeating voice in my head and also whatever body part is cranky.<br />
<br />
My main focus right now is dropping some weight, which began on Monday and let me tell you, I forgot how much this sucks. The first week is always the worst, and after that your body stops screaming "FEED ME WOMAN!" And the other part is that you sort of get consumed by it. You're constantly calculating when and what you can eat. That gets easier eventually, too after you've been at it a bit and your routine gets settled. I have chosen the hardest three months of the year to attempt weight loss, but I've done it before, and I know I can do it again.<br />
<br />
<b>Blogging</b><br />
I'm going to start chronicling all this a little closer here, for my benefit if no one else's. Dieting can be such a struggle and a slog, so I'm sure you'll be interested in it's minutiae. See you soon.<br />
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<b>What's the hardest part of the day when you're dieting? Any tips/tricks? </b><br />
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The hardest part for me is the afternoon at work. I bring my breakfast and lunch most days, so the gremlins don't generally come out until 1:30, and then they start shouting "FEED ME WOMAN! I'm bored! I'm stuck in this chair. Reward, please. Gimme gimme gimme." Also going out to dinner can be a disaster. It's so easy to blow it without knowing it. But I try to look online and figure out what I can eat before we leave the house.<br />
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My tricks/tips are peppermint tea, gum, and evening exercise. If I exercise after dinner, I've got to take it easy or I'll vomit. Built in governor.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23591752.post-23696995948412262092011-10-17T21:47:00.000-06:002011-10-17T21:47:30.428-06:00share and compareI promise, I promise, I will stop talking about the marathon soon. Soon is not yet, however. I was curious to see how my stats compared from this marathon versus the Colorado Marathon. As luck would have it, Garmin has a comparison widget. You can click on the images to make them bigger if you actually want to look at the data.<br />
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God bless statistics. While in no way shape or form do they demonstrate a dramatic improvement, they do show improvement. I would also like to note that the first 14 miles of the Colorado Marathon were mostly downhill, while there was a 200 foot elevation climb in the first 4 miles of the Portland marathon. And I'm pretty proud of my miles 25 split in Portland. It's just nice to see that the improvement is consistent. <br />
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In other news, I finally managed to drag my ass out for a run today. It wasn't pretty, but it happened. Now I just need to figure out what I'm doing next.Lana Bumphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17334161158311600061noreply@blogger.com0