Yarn Ball Boogie

Gabbana Dog

Here I am in Battery Park City again, helping a friend post-surgery.  She had a bunionectomy.  Sounds gross and medical, but it's apparently routine.  She just can't be walking around so I'm walking Moose, getting dinner, etc.  I feel like a visiting nurse.  I could do it.  I'd be a good one, too. 

There are many benefits to being here.  First, as I've said before, it makes me feel like I'm in a resort town on vacation.  Complete with a gym.  So, first off, I went to the gym the other day, continuing with my mission of running myself to death.  They have these TV screens in front of every treadmill called "Cardio Theatre".  Cute idea, but I feel like I might become dependent on having entertainment in front of me while I'm running.  So, if you watch the next NYC Marathon on TV or as a spectator on the street, chances are if you see someone with an odd contraption taped to their back that arches around to the front with a TV screen, that would be me.  One of the channels they offer is like New York Sports Club's answer to MTV or VH1 (when they used to be music videos).  I was so pumped.  The Britney Spears video "I'm a Slave..." came on (if you ever thought Britney was sexy, this would be the era when she hit it).  But the video is a sweaty workout to pop music.  With hot shirtless boys.  I'm glad I wasn't wearing headphones, because I could monitor myself, keeping all urges to sing out loud in check.  But a sample would have gone something like, "yeah, Britney, I'm a slave, too, yeah!, Go bitch, sing it, whew!  Yeah!  I'm a slaaaaaaave...*gasp for air* yeah!, go, go, hit it bitch!  Yeah, sexy!..."  And then I would trip on the 9mph treadmill belt and bash my face into the floor.  Then, something horrible happened.  (imagine record player screeching to a halt here...)  Next up -  Jewel's "I was meant for you."  Talk about a buzz kill.

Next, there's Moose.  I don't know how you feel about dressing dogs up in clothes, but hey, it's not my dog, and if the owner is ok with it, it gives me an excuse to knit up something with leftover stash yarn.  I had several skeins of Colinette's Point 5 in "ecru" (I call it white), so I grabbed some fatty needles and whipped it out.  I didn't have enough to make a full human garment and I'm sick of hats and scarves, so a dog sweater was the answer.  I call it the Gabbana Sweater.  It reminds me of the Fall/Winter season from Dolce & Gabbana.  They did all these enormous knits in all white that really made me weak in the knees.  So it's a humble tribute to that. 

Oh, speaking of leftover yarn, it's from the Knitty Gritty episode I just taped.  My FIRST episode I taped (a long time ago) is finally coming up.  The networks were playing around with the episodes and were in the process of showing some on HGTV, which apparently a lot more people get.  So, I'm glad they waited, but my episode...drumroll...is #602 and you can see it on Feb. 2 at 11:00am.  I'll keep you updated on the most recent one. 

Or, you can check here.

Who needs Doctors?

This is a non-knitting post, by the way.  I only say that because I usually try to say SOMETHING fiber-related.  Not this time.  So if you're one of those people that think knitting blogs shouldn't talk about anything else...fuck off.  It's my blog.  hee hee

About oh, I don't know, 8 months ago, I was supposed to begin training for the 2006 New York City Marathon.  It would have been my 3rd marathon.  I've competed in many smaller races; actually won a couple awards for the shorter distances.  So I left my apartment on a normal day, the first of what I thought would be many days of grueling training, eating right, and fancy new shoes.   My friend and I used to call them our fast boy/fast girl shoes.  And she should know. 

I started my stopwatch (yes, I'm a dedicated runner when I actually do it) and began my trek. 

43 seconds later (it stuck in my brain like a tragic event because, well, it was) I felt the pain.  Imagine someone sticking a paring knife just below your gastrocnemius muscle (the bigger of the two calf muscles) and then pulling the knife up toward your hamstring.  I shrieked.  And limped home.  Now, I've had injuries before.  Classical ballet background+running+klutzy=injuries.  But this one seemed different.  But, I remained hopeful that it would just "go away".  Not so.  Dianosis?  Medial Gastrocnemius Tear.

The marathon came and went, and sadly I had to cancel.  But, on the bright side, if you have to cancel for any reason, they guarantee your entry for the next year.  Score.  I stared physical therapy, but my therapist sucked.  Literally.  Not on me or my leg muscle, just didn't really seem all that enthused about my diagnosis, recovery, prognosis or otherwise.  He was one of those who would just point somewhere and go, "so do like, oh, I don't know, 10 or 30 of those and I'll be back in a minute."  Then I would get done and go wandering to look for him.  He was usually eating when I found him. 

I eventually decided to nix the therapy and take charge.  I certainly couldn't do any worse.  So I just didn't do anything out of the ordinary and let my muscle heal.  Enter these:

I haven't felt anything so good on my feet since oh....maybe the ink when they took my footprint when I was born.  I've ran about 12 miles this week so far and NO PAIN.  I'm pretty stoked.  So I'm already looking into my next race.  (only a 5K)

Where'd I get the fast boy shoes?  Here.  They are so great there.  If you live in NY, or hell, if you don't live here, you should visit them.  Foot Lockers are ok for what they are, Shoe Carnival, etc.  But, as a runner, you get tired of walking in those places and hearing, "Yo man, these kicks are tight.  You should check 'em out".   I really doubt any of them even know what an iliotibial band is and what the pain feels like when it's rubbing on your knee, much less how to suggest a shoe to correct the problem.  I DID say I'm the poster boy for injury, yes? 

Anyway, running again feels great.  I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of my body again once all the injury-period inactivity fatness falls off. 

Happy New Year to you all.  (all 6 of you that read this)  xoxo