Adventures in Neighbors and Marathons.

A couple things I want to get out of the way before the main post that has absolutely nothing to do with running.  Or really anything.  So sorry if you're bored to tears. 

1) By a couple twists of fate (mainly being able to get a random bib and having easy access to Sacramento), I'm running CIM.  So is 50% of the rest of the running blogger community!  I don't know if I'm excited or not, but it's happening ready or not.  After CIM, I want to focus on either the 5k or the half.  Time to try to PR in shorter stuff.  If possible.  If you're up at CIM let me know so we can say hi or look for each other!

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 2) Compex has a 20% off code for their machines.  I know these things aren't cheap, if I do think it's pretty sweet if you're in the market.
Code = TU20 http://www.shopcompex.com 

3) It's past Thanksgiving, but I wanted to say thank you for reading my blog.  It's very fun to be able to have a voice and even better to be able to meet people through the blog.  I know there are a billion other blogs to read and you are busy.  So thank you.  

Main Post

I live in an apartment complex that is poorly constructed.  It's probably about the same quality as 90% of the thin-walled, made-for-10-years-of-use apartments throughout west LA.

Which means I can hear almost every move my neighbors make.   And they can probably hear me too.  This was fine until about a month ago.  A song here, an explosion from a movie there, what sounds like a giant dog running around the floor...sure, why not.    Comes with living in an apartment, right?

But about a month ago, something changed.  "Never-sleeping-dudebro" moved into the complex.   I don't really know about the comings and goings of my neighbors but this guy has made his presence known morning, noon, and night.  I feel like I know him better than I should based on his blasted musical selections of Sublime, Third Eye Blind, and The Foo Fighters.

AT 7 AM!!!

It's like he's partying like it's 1997 and there's no stopping him.

"Bump.  Bum. Bum."  is pretty much what I hear when getting ready for work, making dinner, and getting ready for bed.

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 A few days ago, I decided I'd had it.  I asked Anthony about it and he gave the typical chill dude response of "Eh.  I usually don't say anything because then if I'm loud they won't say anything about me."

And...

"If it really bothers you just go ask him to turn it down."

Too easy.  So I did nothing.  Then I fumed a few more days and got up the courage to knock on the wall we share.  No dice - same noise.

Yesterday night I finally got the courage to walk down the hall and ask dudebroneversleeps to turn down his speakers.   I knocked on the door next to me, and after a couple minutes a confused looking old guy answered the door and said "May I help you?".

There was no music.  Clearly this wasn't the right apartment.  I explained that I hear loud music 12 hours a day every day and that I had thought it was him.

"Yeah I hear that too!  I've filed a couple complaints and nothing!  I think it's the guy above us."

Now I was on a mission.  I thanked the old dude and ran up the stairs.  I could hear music blasting from this apartment.  I had found my culprit.

All of a sudden I got scared.  What if this guy is a serial killer and he plays loud music to lure people to his apartment to kill them?  After all, what kind of weirdo needs 120 decibels at all times and doesn't respond to complaints?  Visions of a Dexter-like episode went through my head and I stepped away from the door.

"Well at least that old guy from downstairs knows I'm here if I get killed.  They'll track this guy down in a minute if I go missing", I thought.  

I knocked on the door.  ....A dog growled and the music turned off.  My life flashed before my eyes.

"Shit he's got a giant monster dog too!",  I thought.  "Maybe first the dog attacks and then he does!". 

And then...a small, 23 year old, Mark Zuckerberg look-alike type dude holding a cute 10 pound dog opened the door.  There was a giant lit Christmas tree in the background.  Not what I was expecting at all!

"Hi?  Uh I'm Margot.   I live downstairs.  Uh...your music is a little loud.  Would you mind not playing it early in the morning or late at night?"

He looked embarrassed.  "Yeah definitely!  I had no idea people could hear it.   Sorry about that!".

Wow.  Too easy.  

I said thank you and goodnight and went back to my apartment.   It was blissfully quiet.  I sat back down on the couch and put up my feet.   And contemplated how I made that much harder than it needed to be.  Maybe it's just tough to talk to strangers, even if they are my neighbors.  But it worked out ok.  I guess I should meet the rest of my neighbors too.  You never know when you'll need a cup of sugar, right?

This place is gonna be all hella Mayberry.

Well maybe not, but at least it might be quieter.
  

Fire Up Old Sparky

I've had a tiring week, but pretty much only because I'm badly addicted to Downton Abbey and I've been staying up late watching it.  It is fantastic. 

Honestly, I'm pretty sure that Mitt Romney wants to cut PBS funding because he's jealous that Ann's got a major crush on the Cousin Matthew. 

I mean...I get it girl.  I have a crush on him as well.  I mean...hello?

Sorry.  I know that if you don't watch that show, that was totally boring. 

In case you were wondering, I have been trying to run more and I even put in a 55 mile week last week.  I'm still slow though.  I can't believe that taking only a couple weeks off (and a couple months of half-assing) has had such repercussions on my speed.  I probably shouldn't be surprised though.  Running doesn't lie.  And not working hard for a couple months doesn't lie either.

I'm going to try to regain as much as I can before NYC/Ragnar.  Fingers crossed. 

I've also managed to do several electricity / fire themed things in the past week. 

1)  Set My House On Fire.

You know that "storage area" underneath stoves?  Yeah.  Turns out for a gas stove, it's not exactly storage.   Or at least not for my gas stove storing a sandwich maker and a still unidentified additional now-melted appliance. 

There go my dreams of hot sandwiches at home. 

Last Sunday night, I wanted to bake a Butternut squash.   I started pre-heating the oven, like a normal human being would, and I noticed some white smoke coming out of the oven.  Since the place is new, I figured maybe there was something random down there that needed to burn up, so I turned off the oven and waited.

However, the smoke kept coming.  And there were some small flames at the bottom of the oven.  I figured they would go out.  Go out they did not.

I went next door to ask my neighbour what to do, and he didn't know either.   It didn't seem like an emergency just yet.  So we just stood there staring at the stove.  And then black smoke started coming out. 

"F it I'm caling 911!!!" 

My hands were shaking as I dialed 911 and as the fire in the oven grew bigger and bigger.  Then the alarms throughout my new complex started going off as the sirens of the fire-trucks approached. 

"Holy shit", I thought, as I frantically moved boxes out of the way of the growing flames. 

But thank god for emergency services - those firemen were there and putting out the flames in no time.  They pulled out the remains of the sandwich maker (with melted plastic everywhere) as I apologized profusely for my mistake. 

"If you wanted to see us so badly, why didn't you just come down to the station and say hi?".  

Haha.  All's well that ends well though, and nothing got damaged.  My night just ended with me feeling a little bit shaken and under a lot of ashes. 

Pretty crazy and embarrassing though.  A banner way to introduce myself to the new neighbours!  

2) The Gaslight Anthem I only mention this part because of the irony.  The night prior to setting a fire in my gas stove, I went to go see the band, the Gaslight Anthem at the Honda Center in Anaheim. 

They were pretty rocking and I love them. 

I mean... I guess it would have been more funny had the band's name been the "Gas Fire Anthem", but you get the idea.

3) Compex Electrostimulation Machine:  As you may have heard, our ultra relay is sponsored by a company called Compex (along with Pro Compression.  Woot!).  Compex makes electro stim machines that basically serve to help build muscle as well as to help recovery. 

Frankly, I'd never heard of a machine like this until I mentioned our sponsor to my boss (a former ridiculously good track athlete) and a couple other people who have gotten physical therapy.  They were all jealous that we each got a machine!   Apparently this method for recovery is legit.

But the thing is...I am too dumb to use it.  Tonight I followed all the steps in the manual and I'm still not sure if it worked.  I'm also kind of scared to put it on anything but the lowest setting (uh after I nearly burned the house down).  Here're some pictures of the attempt:

I don't know about you, but the cartoon of the naked man with socks on in the middle diagram is enough to make me keep using this machine. 

In all seriousness, I am really excited to learn proper usage because I don't recover well from workouts and this could be a great tool.  If you've ever used one of these, tell me about it!  I'd love to hear more.  

Also, if you've ever set your house on fire, perhaps you can tell me about that one too.  I'd like to think I'm not the only one who has burned up a sandwich maker in a cloud of black smoke.