Stephanie Lechner: Nametags and Hairnets

Failing career assessments since the 8th grade

Month: May, 2010

Guerrilla Radio

After almost two weeks of consistent attempts at running, I think I’ve made a very important discovery–the perfect running song. I wrongly assumed that pop or hip-hop would be the style to keep a good pace, but I was lacking motivation, something to spur me on to keep jogging. And then my Ipod hit Rage Against the Machine’s Guerrilla Radio and suddenly I was a running machine! Something about that whole “All Hell can’t stop us now” business and the guitar ingenuity of Mr. Tom Morello got me totally revved up. I now plan on selecting heavy guitar-driven rock to guide my running steps. All rock, all the time.

I went a different direction today, heading west instead of east. I don’t plan out my jogging paths. I like to keep life a little interesting, so I run wherever the lights are green and see where that leads me. Today it led me to this.

I cannot say this enough: I miss trees. You can’t see it in the picture but next to the water–were TREES and GRASS. Now, I am just about as City as a girl can get (I actually likened sitting outside in the rain at Yankee Stadium to camping….seriously), but lately I have been craving trees, nature, or you know anything outside of all this damn concrete. So it filled me with glee to run along side water surrounded by green things. Granted the East River is hardly a glorious site to behold, but I’ll take what I can get. I think I might go back tomorrow.

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Trouble

I was looking over my blogger profile today. I don’t think I’ve paid attention to it for about 6 months or so. When you are setting up the blog, they ask you a random question (just for blogging fun, you know). My question apparently was “The children are waiting! Please tell them the story about the bald frog with the wig”
And this is what is currently written in response:
“Once upon a time, Franky the Frog woke up and much to his surprise, the evil villian, AGE, had evaporated every hair off of his head. He searched the kingdom far and wide for the perfect wig, only to end up with a hot-pink bob wig. He can now be scene on the latest season of RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Here’s what’s interesting. I have ZERO recollection of writing this (this coming from someone who typically has 100% recollection of EVERYTHING). I don’t even remember the question. Oh boy. I have got to get off these sleeping pills. I mean I suppose there are worse things that can happen. I’ve heard of people doing crazy sleepwalking–or even worse, sleep driving!!!. But me, I sleep-blog (with the occasional sleep-email or sleep-text–my apologies to anyone who has received messages from me after 10:00 PM).

I have noticed the increase in my physical activity has resulted in an improvement in my sleep cycle, so let’s keep our fingers crossed, k? Unless I can finish my screenplay in my sleep, that actually might be helpful.

Funny The Way It Is

I interrupt my regularly scheduled blog about running to introduce you to
a dear friend. Living in Nashville and Newy York City has afforded me the luxury of being surrounded by a lot of talent. Singers, actors, writers, musicians, photographers, etc–I’m spoiled, really. It has been almost 8 years since I met Kristine as a freshman at Belmont University and we couldn’t have been any more different. But we met in the middle becoming eventual roommates and very close friends. Time and life pulled our friendship in different directions, but somehow we’ve always been able to pick up right we left off, and I’m grateful for that. I’m not sure if she knows this, but I am completely envious of her ability to marry stability with wild adventures, wisdom with humility, and creativity, well, with just about everything. When I met her she was comfortable expressing herself in the written word and I was comfortable expressing myself behind a camera. Somewhere along the way, I put down the camera and she picked one up. And somewhere along the way I started calling myself a writer. Funny the way it is. I could go on and on, but this is what I wanted to share with y’all–check this out, she’s sooooo good!


She captures life in a way that I want to experience it. And she’s just getting started.
See her blog here and more stuff here and here

We now resume our regularly scheduled blog, already in progress.
I ran yesterday. It hurt.

*editor’s note: when I preview this blog entry it looks fine, but when I actually view the blog, the pics get cut off. And, well, I’m just not as good at HTML as I used to be. So go to her sites to see the full pictures, they look better over there 🙂

Run It

Thank you NYC for bringing the decent weather back. Now keep it this way for another week at least–I got a Red Sox game to go to!

I fell a little short of my prescribed workout. I was supposed to run for 2 minutes followed by 1 minute of walking, repeat 5 times followed by 5 rounds of 1/1. I think I lost my momentum taking those extra days off because I had to cheat a little. But I did it nonetheless and the relentless cough that always follows my runs is in full force, but tonight it was combined with the ab soreness as a result of my Improv team’s pre-practice brutal yoga session. So I have pretty much sounded like this all night: cough, cough “ow!”, cough, “ow!!!!, “cough, cough. You get the idea.
I wish I could write all the random thoughts that pass through my head while I’m running but I can’t seem to remember them all. I do remember noting that there are a lot of Mr. Softee trucks and being grateful that I left my wallet at my apartment. And did you know that pigeons tend to bob their head in perfect rhythm to whatever song I happen to be running to? Yeah, I bet you didn’t.
I miss the free personal training I used to get at the spa. I need a running buddy. It’s too easy to cheat on my own. And what happens if I don’t leave my wallet at home? I’ll tell you what–Mr. Softee cone with sprinkles! I’m so easily distracted, you know.

Don’t You Worry ‘Bout Me

Alright, I’ve had a few concerned friends who know about my history of knee issues. They think that running is a bad idea. It started in my early teens when I spent the better part of the 7th grade on crutches thus sabotaging my burgeoning basketball career (Ok, so I was 2nd string, but whatevs, I could’ve gotten better!). I’ve been to several doctors, and over the last ten years, I’ve been told that my knee pain was a result of poor bone structure, misplaced tendons, degenerative cartilage, arthritis, food allergies and bad negative energy harnessed in my joints as a result of not pursuing my hopes and dreams. Now come on folks, that can’t ALL be true. Hell, the last guy I talked to said that there isn’t technically anything wrong with my joints and that if I exercised and got in better shape (i.e. lose some lbs) I’d probably notice the pain subside. I’ve had x-rays, MRIS, surgery, and pain killers (which are fun, really). Then there were the needles–so many needles–steroid injections, acupuncture, mesotherapy and some pseudo-cartilage endorsed by Bruce Jenner delivered beneath my knee cap by the largest gauged needle I have EVER seen (Bruce, how did you do it, man!?). But no one has been able to pinpoint, without a doubt, what causes my random bouts of knee pain. So I say screw it. I’ll be fine. I’m nothing if not stubborn. I have this weird, almost immediate, reaction to being told that I can’t do something–I immediately want to do it. I’ve spent so much time feeling the weight of these physical limitations that I’m over it. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m being careful. I’m slowly working my way towards running long distance and I don’t expect it to happen overnight and I’m good at listening to my body. If it hurts too bad, I’ll stop.

Unfortunately I was at the mercy of NYC’s weather today which was rainy and COLD, so I did some Yoga inside to stay warm. And guys, I don’t know if you know this, but yoga is HARD. And now I’m tired.
Tomorrow the official running program continues. I appreciate the support and concern from my friends. All concerns duly noted. But don’t worry, I’ll be OK.

Maybe Not

Alright, so I woke up around 4:00 AM not feeling so good. Called out sick for work and spent the day in bed. Which means I didn’t get to do any running for the day. I did however clear out a lot of shows from my DVR.

But I should be back on track tomorrow!

Take It on the RUn

Day 2: “How are you feeling today? Hope you enjoyed your first workout yesterday. Ready for Day 2?

Here’s your workout for today: Start with a 5-10 minute warm-up walk. Run 1/1 x 10. (Run 1 minute, walk 1 minute, ten times, for a total of 20 minutes.) Finish with a 5-10 minute cool-down walk. This is the same workout you did yesterday, so you can definitely do it!”

Today’s workout playlist brought to you by NSync, Foo Fighters and Notorious BIG. Excellent.

So who’s pissed that I’m doing this? Oh, that would be my right and left lung. After day 1’s run last night, I spent the rest of the evening hacking and coughing. And I woke up in pain, soreness everywhere. I am pathetic.

Not having a car means I walk everywhere when I’m not on the subway. You would think that would give me some sort of cardio endurance. But no. I think it’s that whole muscle confusion thing. My muscles are entirely used to the effort it takes to walk around the city but whatever combination of muscle movement that is required to run is foreign. And like I said, my lungs are pissed.

Tomorrow’s a rest day. They encourage cross training, but let’s just be honest, that ain’t happening.

More on Tuesday.

Born To Run

I wish I was better at following through with things. I tend to pick up hobbies or interests quickly, and then drop them even faster. I go out and buy whatever tools are necessary, and then lose interest and toss them aside. Some examples are: teaching myself Italian (lasted about two weeks), becoming an actuary (about 4 months), being a vegetarian (lasted about 6 months), joining an indoor soccer league (about 3 months), ballroom dancing (in my defense this one lasted almost two years, but it was still a really random hobby), and training for a marathon (that lasted about as long as it took me to pick out pretty new running shoes).
Well I don’t want to be that way any longer.
And I also want to be in better shape.
Which brings me to my new project.
Running.
No, I don’t plan on training for a marathon. That’s like saying I’m going to pick up rock climbing starting with Mt. Everest. I just want to be able to run for a period of time without losing my breath or getting really bored.
Ok that’s a lie. I signed up for that newsletter on January 7th but ignored the instructions I received for the next 21 days. BUT I saved all the emails. That’s good right???
Here’s where you come in. I’m going to post short daily updates on my progress. My declaration is on the internet now. Motivation, people, motivation. See, I don’t want to disappoint my readers, so I have to do it. So here we go.

Day 1: Let’s get started.Today’s run: Start with a 5-10 minute warm-up walk. Run 1/1 x 10. (Run 1 minute, walk 1 minute, ten times, for a total of 20 minutes.) Finish up with a 5-10 minute cool-down walk. Remember to take it easy and don’t worry about your pace at all.

Here are some initial post-run thoughts:
1. How come no one ever told me how much more interesting it is to run outside. Have you all been keeping that a secret!!! I didn’t get bored at all!
2. Note to self: Beastie Boys make for a fantastic running playlist.
3. Another note to self: don’t run too far away–you’ll have to get home eventually
4. Where do runners put their keys???
5. I can’t stop coughing. Is this normal?

If It Kills Me

Oh how people would be entertained if there were cameras in my apartment capturing moments like this. It was my turn to clean the apartment, and as I was sweeping the kitchen floor a dust ball rolled under the refrigerator. Or what I thought was a dust ball. It wasn’t until that dust ball begin to shimmy its way up the wall that I realized it was a cockroach the size of my head. MY HEAD! Now if you know me, you know that I’m one tough chick in most situations, but creepy crawlers and rodents are my Achilles heel. I turned into a neurotic mess and called my mom immediately while standing guard in my bedroom to make sure the little bastard didn’t come in. Paranoia swept in while I worried that he had crawled onto the ceiling and if I approached the battle zone he would fall in my hair…..and I would die.

It took me about 20 minutes before my mom had talked me down enough to approach the bathroom where I suspected my nemesis was throwing a kegger with his buddies while wildly reproducing until they formed a giant army designed to take me down (guys, have you seen Joe’s Apartment?????). There I was, in my cropped pajama pants and Sperry boat shoes, armed with a can of Raid and zero confidence. I inched my way into the bathroom as if I was starring in my very own spaghetti western facing off with a Mexican bandit. As I drew my weapon, I discovered that the creature apparently had come to my apartment to die. I found him face up, thrashing his legs about and taking his last breaths. But I was smarter than to believe his act and doused him with Raid until he was sufficiently dead. I should also note that this is the first time my mom has heard me swear as I yelled “Die, you son of b****, die” as I sprayed him. What can I say–it was in the heat of the moment. Victory was mine as I flushed him down the toilet.
I’m still a little shaken up. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to sleep with the lights on tonight, but I’ve come to a decision: I need to get married if for no other reason than I want a big strapping man around to take care of the bugs and mice. Yep, I realize that’s an antiquated notion and a slap in the face of the feminist movement, but I’m ok with that. Just give me an apron, a pair of high heels and call me Donna Reed.