Did you ever notice that sports are really fun no matter where you are? This past weekend we travelled to Pittsburgh. I lived a couple of hours from that city for a decade of my life, but it seemed so FAR. Mom was a single parent who struggled, working long hours to feed and clothe us so jaunts to the big city weren't very common. The only times we went to Pittsburgh were for an occasional Penguins game (pre-Mario days, when the tickets were easy to come by) and a weekly trip-- during 1977-78-- to my neurologist at Childrens Hospital after my accident. Oh yeah, once or twice for a play during high school.
I had never been to a Pirates game (watched them on tv every now and then with my cousin Tammy, who was really into baseball). Never been to a Steelers game (mom is one of the half- dozen people in Western PA who hates the Steelers, so that may have been an additional factor as to why we never went). So it was with a great deal of anticipation that we made our way to PNC Park and Heinz Field on a glorious summer weekend in Western Pennsylvania.
Both parks are situated on the riverfront. First was the Steelers game on Friday night. Pittsburgh is a football obsessed town, so virtually everyone was dressed in the black and gold. I love attending a sports event outdoors at night. The lights make the field seem so surreal and the colors are more intense somehow. I've never been a huge Steelers fan-- my football loyalty lies squarely with the New England Patriots and Chicago Bears (da Bearz!!). I was a little apprehensive about wearing the navy and orange in foreign territory, but no one commented. We were both exhausted from the long drive from Chicago and the late night the night before, so we left at halftime. Regardless, it was a treasured experience. The stadium is beautiful and my only complaint is the serious shortage of cabs there. When we were leaving, I asked an attendant which exit we should take for the cab stand. His look of incredulity was as if I had asked where to board the space shuttle. He said it would be hard. And it was. Although some guy pulling a bike contraption offered to take us back to the hotel for $75. We walked.
On Sunday afternoon we went to PNC Park for the Pirates game. Another gorgeous venue. It has a food court and shopping area that is very reminiscent of my favorite mall (ahhh, malls... ahhh, shopping!). And they had Iron City beer. Just like a trip to Chicago isn't complete without downing a couple pints or more of 312 brews, a trip to the Burgh isn't proper without some IC in your gut. Once again, I stayed true to my roots and came dressed in Cubbie blue. I was greeted mostly with pity because of it. Had I been holding a sign reading "spare change for a fan of a worse team than yours," I probably could've paid next month's electric bill. Again, we left early because our time in the city was short and we were trying to cram in a lot of activity, but it was another special outing.
See ya for a Pens game next time, Pittsburgh. Thanks for a good time.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
An eventful couple of days...
So, I was hit by a car when I was thirteen years old. Smashed my face to smithereens, including my teeth. Consequently, I've had a series of dental bridges since then (hey, at least I didn't have to go through the agony of braces). I had been battling a bad infection in one of my teeth for the past few weeks and my dentist gave me some grim news. The only way to fix it was to pull the tooth. And the tooth was the anchor to the bridge. And by the way, there's other stuff wrong under there. You know where this is going.
To make what is already going to be a long story a little bit shorter, prep work for the new bridge necessitated a bunch 'o processes, including three extractions, some gum surgery, stitches, four implants-- and a partridge in a pear tree. Spent 5 hours with the dentist chair on Thursday. Seems my body burns through anesthesia rapidly, so I maxed out on the dosage when they still had some work to do. Just let me say God bless Vicodin. And props to Dr. Kim and Dr. Patel for being very skilled and super nice people as well.
Although I had planned to work from home on Friday, I was in no condition to do so, so I spent the day watching CNN and Toddlers and Tiaras, taking my meds and gumming down a little bit of low fat yogurt here and there. Who needs Jenny Craig? Mouth from hell is keeping me away from the Swedish fish and Hershey bars quite sufficiently, thank you very much.
This morning I was scheduled to run Champions 5K at Montrose. The oral surgeon told me not to run til 48 hours after the process, but we had been looking forward to this race for months. Plus, my running has been in the toilet for a long time and I wanted to prove something to myself. I needed to convince myself that I still had the guts to suck it up, to break free of my comfort zone and to not take the easy way out. I fully intended to walk the race, but to participate nonetheless.
John was supposed to go, but he messed up his schedule and had to work (a long story, let's just say he's in the doghouse right now), so Teresa, Mike and Denise picked me up. It was a humid day, raining, but not super hot. I started out at a slow trot and felt pretty good. So I kept going. I promised myself I'd walk if I felt any extreme pain or had any bleeding. But I didn't. So I kept going. Did the first mile in just under 10 minutes, then was able to keep a steady 11 minute mile pace for the last few miles. Came in at 33:58. Nowhere near speedy, but on this day, at that moment, I gave it everything I had. I'm more proud of this race than I am of the few sub-30 minute efforts I've had. I did what I set out to do and it felt awesome. Congratulatory kisses (albeit gentle ones to not hurt me) from my Reindears was icing on the cake.
Afterwards, there were scrambled eggs, sausage and beer for the race participants so we relaxed and enjoyed the morning. Teresa took first in her age group and Denise took second-- as always, they're supreme athletes. Mike ran using John's bib and, although he doesn't race much (the guy was wearing two t-shirts and cargo shorts!) he also had a successful outing. We had a lot to be happy about. Good times, good friends, good feelings.
Came home, took a shower and by then my mouth was starting to protest a bit. Laid down for about 15 minutes, grabbed some lunch with John, then hopped on the El to meet Candace and Cheri for Retro on Roscoe festival. The trains were late and I was starting to feel sick and irritable, but by the time we got there, the Vicodin was kicking in (I didn't take any this morning because I didn't want to run with it in my system). I hadn't seen Cheri in about five years so it was great to catch up. She's a free spirit and I enjoy her company so much. And Candace-- she is a joy. We perused the shopping opportunities and caught a little bit of a Beatles cover band called Modern English, then the highlight of the festival for me was introducing my friends to 7th Heaven (including the routine guitar pick dropped in my beer from Richie). Couldn't have been more perfect.
It's only 9:00 but I think I'm headed to bed. Can't smile very well because the inside of my mouth is a war zone, but I'm smiling on the inside.
To make what is already going to be a long story a little bit shorter, prep work for the new bridge necessitated a bunch 'o processes, including three extractions, some gum surgery, stitches, four implants-- and a partridge in a pear tree. Spent 5 hours with the dentist chair on Thursday. Seems my body burns through anesthesia rapidly, so I maxed out on the dosage when they still had some work to do. Just let me say God bless Vicodin. And props to Dr. Kim and Dr. Patel for being very skilled and super nice people as well.
Although I had planned to work from home on Friday, I was in no condition to do so, so I spent the day watching CNN and Toddlers and Tiaras, taking my meds and gumming down a little bit of low fat yogurt here and there. Who needs Jenny Craig? Mouth from hell is keeping me away from the Swedish fish and Hershey bars quite sufficiently, thank you very much.
This morning I was scheduled to run Champions 5K at Montrose. The oral surgeon told me not to run til 48 hours after the process, but we had been looking forward to this race for months. Plus, my running has been in the toilet for a long time and I wanted to prove something to myself. I needed to convince myself that I still had the guts to suck it up, to break free of my comfort zone and to not take the easy way out. I fully intended to walk the race, but to participate nonetheless.
John was supposed to go, but he messed up his schedule and had to work (a long story, let's just say he's in the doghouse right now), so Teresa, Mike and Denise picked me up. It was a humid day, raining, but not super hot. I started out at a slow trot and felt pretty good. So I kept going. I promised myself I'd walk if I felt any extreme pain or had any bleeding. But I didn't. So I kept going. Did the first mile in just under 10 minutes, then was able to keep a steady 11 minute mile pace for the last few miles. Came in at 33:58. Nowhere near speedy, but on this day, at that moment, I gave it everything I had. I'm more proud of this race than I am of the few sub-30 minute efforts I've had. I did what I set out to do and it felt awesome. Congratulatory kisses (albeit gentle ones to not hurt me) from my Reindears was icing on the cake.
Afterwards, there were scrambled eggs, sausage and beer for the race participants so we relaxed and enjoyed the morning. Teresa took first in her age group and Denise took second-- as always, they're supreme athletes. Mike ran using John's bib and, although he doesn't race much (the guy was wearing two t-shirts and cargo shorts!) he also had a successful outing. We had a lot to be happy about. Good times, good friends, good feelings.
Came home, took a shower and by then my mouth was starting to protest a bit. Laid down for about 15 minutes, grabbed some lunch with John, then hopped on the El to meet Candace and Cheri for Retro on Roscoe festival. The trains were late and I was starting to feel sick and irritable, but by the time we got there, the Vicodin was kicking in (I didn't take any this morning because I didn't want to run with it in my system). I hadn't seen Cheri in about five years so it was great to catch up. She's a free spirit and I enjoy her company so much. And Candace-- she is a joy. We perused the shopping opportunities and caught a little bit of a Beatles cover band called Modern English, then the highlight of the festival for me was introducing my friends to 7th Heaven (including the routine guitar pick dropped in my beer from Richie). Couldn't have been more perfect.
It's only 9:00 but I think I'm headed to bed. Can't smile very well because the inside of my mouth is a war zone, but I'm smiling on the inside.
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