Lakefront Marathon

I woke up around 6 AM and made the same breakfast I always do before a run: an English muffin breakfast sammich with egg and Canadian bacon, swallowed down with some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. It was barely light out when I packed up the rest of my gear when Greg and I hopped into my Camry on our way to Grafton High School. Today I was going to run my first marathon.

Lakefront Marathon, October 4: 48 degrees and cloudy at 7:45 AM. Only 2,700 runners. Not nearly as many as my first race this past May; a half marathon in Green Bay, with almost 10,000 total participants. The Lakefront Marathon limited participants mainly because both Ozaukee and Milwaukee Counties can’t completely close down their roads for the race. The route itself starts off in Grafton, and goes along the Lake Michigan lakefront to downtown Milwaukee. One way. No loops or circles – you’re always headed toward your destination.

I made sure to charge my iPod that morning, and created a list with more than 100 songs, or six hours worth, for the entire 26.2 miles. I took off my sweats, down to my running shorts and tank top. A lot of runners wore cheap gloves, cut-off sleeves, or throw-away shirts to stay warm before the race. I didn’t because I knew I’d be warmed up within the first mile.

I went to the bathroom – a staple of any long distance run. I took one Imodium, to avoid any, err, accidents during the rest of the morning. Plus I was dealing with dear Aunt Flow that morning. TMI? Too bad … it’s worse dealing with it, than hearing about it.

I knew the last half would be more difficult than the first. My longest distance in training was only 16 miles, opposed to the 20 miles I should’ve made it up to. I cut back on my distance during training to avoid a knee injury and focused more on strength training.

Miles one through 10 were pretty uneventful. The run consisted mainly of country roads with a few scattered houses. I kept a 10:40 pace, and stuck with the 4:30 pace group for awhile. There were some volunteers that kept music playing in their cars. I also remember a guy playing a banjo in his driveway, while his dog sat by his feet. I knew I couldn’t use too much energy because I’d have to save up for the second half. I looked forward to seeing Greg, knowing he’d meet me at Mile 10.

I ate my first gel around Mile 8, so I grabbed my other one from Greg when I met him at Mile 10.

I made a pit stop at Mile 12 to go to the bathroom. I figured it was the best idea, since I had a full mug of coffee and at least a full bottle of water already.

I anticipated seeing Greg again at Mile 15, and told myself I only had five miles to run before we met up again. The next time I saw him, Greg gave me some Vaseline for my legs, because my shorts were beginning to chafe my thighs. I told him I’d see him again around Mile 22.

I stopped at every water stop, about every two miles, and made sure to drink at least one cup of water. I even had Gatorade twice, because I knew I needed sodium and electrolytes. I would walk for 50-100 yards to get my bearings and not swallow the water to fast. I also went through two gels, which isn’t much considering they recommend having 1-2 every hour that you’re running. (The second one I had around Mile 18.)

I went into the race knowing my mental strength was half the battle. I knew my body could physically handle it. I’m in pretty good shape, and I’ve been working to get here since March. The problem is, you can’t psych yourself out; 26.2 miles can be daunting if you look at it as an entire distance. So I broke it down to numbers, and made it a game. I knew that after mile 10, and every five miles after that, I’d see Greg. That broke the distance up into four (almost) equal segments, with the longest at the start. I could anticipate seeing him (and everyone at mile 22 :D), knowing he’d be there to hand me gear and he’d be there to push and encourage me. (When you’re at mile 15, and you have 11 more to go … you might need someone to give you some motivation.) I focused on each mile, and would tell myself things like, “Once you pass mile 10, you’re in double digits” or “Once I make it to mile 17, I’m in single digits to the finish.” It also helped that the last 8 miles of the race were usually incorporated into my training routes. I could recognize houses, street names, cracks in the sidewalk …

At Mile 19, I ran next to a middle-aged woman who was running her fourth marathon. We talked for about a mile. She told me she wasn’t sure why she was doing this a fourth time. She didn’t like the idea of taking up her entire summer with training. (For more than half the 3+ months of training, you should be incorporating a long run each week between 10-20 miles – there go your weekends.) But we both laughed about the fact that we’d be able to eat whatever we wanted today once we finished. She had baked brownies the day before, and bought a half gallon of ice cream. We were burning at least 2,800 calories each; an entire day’s worth of food.

While we were talking, the 4:45 pace group came up and ran behind us. The woman holding the pace sign was wearing bright pink shorts, and a pink and white tank top, and continued to smile and say encouraging things to all the runners she was with or passing.

After the next water stop, I broke ahead of the pace group, and the woman I was talking to. I passed Silver Spring Drive, and started recognizing roads. I knew I was getting close to my next cheering section :)

Then, I saw everyone (Greg, Kate, Ivan, Weeks, Jesse, V and Dexter) at Mile 22, near Lake Dr. and Capitol Dr. That gave me the motivation to get through the next four miles.

And it’s true, marathons have two parts: the first 20 miles, and the last 6.2 miles. After seeing everyone at Mile 22, I knew I wasn’t too far from finishing, but I could also tell that my joints and muscles were killing me. I continued to run past Capitol and told myself to keep running until the huge decline on Lincoln Memorial Drive, about a mile ahead. Once I stopped running, I immediately felt my muscles tense up every time I took a step. I didn’t want to mess up my knee, so I walked down the entire hill. Then I saw the 4:45 pace group … except it wasn’t a group, it was the same woman in pink, with two stragglers behind her. I saw her go about 20 yards ahead, then 100 yards. That was it. I told myself that if I was going to finish, I wanted to make it in under 5 hours. I began jogging again. I passed the Mile 24 marker, and started to pick up the pace even more. Once I passed the first couple people, I felt a second (or sixth?) wind coming on. I felt less pain when I ran than when I walked. I had already figured out my breathing, and the harder I pushed my muscles, the less pain (relatively) I felt.

Once I got going, I started gaining on the pace group. I was in a full-out run by the time I got to the Mile 25 water station, and I could hear people cheering. It seemed like (or maybe they actually were?) the volunteers got louder as I came through, because they realized I wasn’t dragging. I was actually running … probably at a 9:30/mile pace.

One volunteer even stepped out, put up his hand and yelled my name (our names were printed on our bibs). I gave him a high-five, and grabbed a water from the last volunteer in the row. For the first water stop during the entire race, I squeezed the cup and chugged – without stopping to walk.

Then I had a half mile to go. I could see spectators walking to and from the finish line. I kept passing people on my left and right. AND THEN, Queen started playing on my iPod: “We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions.” Perfect timing.

I could hear my breath, along with the music … and occasionally people would yell out “Go Erica!” or “Almost there, keep going!”

I could see the curve that took me to the home stretch, and realized I had about a quarter mile to go. I was going to do this. I turned the corner, and “Times Like These” by Foo Fighters started playing. I can justify why making a playlist for each big run is important.

People around me were walking or slowly jogging in, but I wanted it to be over. I wanted to cross the finish line. I heard the crowd around me, and people yelling my name. Almost there.

And then I crossed. I made it: 4:42:39.

A volunteer put a medal around my neck. I grabbed a space blanket, took a slice of orange and a banana. I felt lost for a minute, realizing I was done. It was over. Then I heard my name. Greg!

I found him, and we walked over to my mom. . I needed to stretch. My heart raced. I limped and stumbled. My joints ached. I shook. I didn’t know if I was cold or hot. I felt sweat caked to my face and arms. I had just run 26.2 miles.

And it was all worth it.

Why I (don't) work

YEAH, I haven't been around in awhile; what of it? I've had a pretty busy summer, including camping or traveling out of town at least half the time, seeing the Brewers at least 6x and (literally) running all over Wisconsin. Not that I'm complaining. In fact, I've still got some pretty awesome stuff coming up in the next few weeks.

I'd say this summer was on it's way to making the top three best ever (#1.) Summer of 2003, after my freshman year of college, and #2.) Last year.) Until July 20, 2009. Dun-dun-dunn.

For those of you not familiar ... I got laid off because of financial cuts at the Company. I've also recently found out that the Company filed for Chapter 11, hoping to clear some of it's debt. But that's probably another post.

Optimistically, being let go has given me the potential opportunity to cut ties from Fort Atkinson and will *hopefully* end up being a blessing in disguise. But before I came to that epiphany, I had a few choice words with myself and the keyboard. So without further ado, and any without editing whatsoever, I give you the "Working Rant."


"The look of pity is the worst part.

It hadn’t hit me. It still might not have. I’m sad, but it’s more like a relationship break-up than a job loss. I’ll miss some of the people I worked with. I’ll miss having something to go to on a daily basis. I’ll miss the actual work. But I won’t miss the bullshit of dealing with corporate red tape and preferential treatment.

The question that keeps going through my mind is, “Why me?” It was a purely economical move, so they said … but could it have been some other underlying issue. Was it really only the numbers? When you have a staff of six running two magazines, and four of those individuals are sales representatives, how will one editor handle all of that work? I hope they at least compensate Brendan for the load of work that will now double. Didn’t they realize the assistants and associates (editors) were the ones that do all the work? They’ll find out.

It may have been that I got to work a few minutes later than everyone else. But I also stayed later. Is it because I asked to arrange some kind of telecommuting procedure for working from home a few days a week? Did they then think I’d being my search for another job, because I didn’t get what I wanted? After that conversation, and after reassessing my financial status, I decided I would continue to live in Fort Atkinson for at least another year. But they didn’t know that. Could it have been that?

My being on editorial focus groups, and helping out for different magazines couldn’t have even been a factor. (err, sarcasm.)

The other issue I’m trying to wrap around my head is that I had been doomed from the start. RV Trade Digest, my initial book, had gone under completely. My one saving grace was leaving that magazine – but I still got left behind.

And to reapply for another editorial position at the same company? (HR called to let me know there was another associate editor position available) Really, to work with Brendan, and have a working relationship with some of the people there again, I’d do in a heartbeat. But not at that same company. Why should I even attempt to give anything to a company that believed I wasn’t an asset to their future? We’ll part ways indefinitely, so I can cauterize this wound, instead of wondering if they’ll rip away bandages over and over again.

I’ve come to terms with the publishing world. It’s not the happy-go-lucky, laid back job I thought it’d be. It’s pure cutthroat.

Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy what I do. I take pride in my actual job, and the tasks I complete. Along the way, I meet a few pretty cool people. But in this industry, it’s not what you know. It’s who you know. Networking can be a bitch. If done properly, it’ll get you to the top of the mountain. Not doing it can leave you stranded.

After my mom discussed the possibility of working for Social Security, I thought about it. Why wouldn’t I at least #1: go into a government job, which might have a little more security, and #2. Work in customer service again. I understand the ropes. I also get that it’s treating others the way you’d like to be treated. No more unethical business about running a lax company. I won’t have to deal with the skewed views of middle and upper management trying to handle a financial crisis.

In customer service, at least your job is to help others. That idea is also extended into the workforce. People enjoy helping others, but also enjoy the satisfaction of being treated equally, and with respect based on not only how they interact with their peers, and serve their clientele, but also on their performance. That’s the one thing that distinguishes a service industry career from a media career."


At this point, I'm not sure where I'll go next. I'm still applying for editorial jobs. But I'm applying for more consumer-based publications, or online-focused media. And, I'm keeping my options open.

Keep on keeping on

"The long run puts the tiger in the cat." --Bill Squires, marathon trainer

As many of you already know, I made a few New Year's resolutions in January. To update everyone on the status, and keep myself motivated, here's a little update:

Read books
I've taken certain liberties with this first one. Right now I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Good so far. I've also been keeping up on my Time and New Yorker subscriptions, for the most part.

Other than that, I've become more familar with other forms of literature, including comic books. We'll blame Gregor. But don't laugh yet. I've read Watchmen, and became completely enveloped with the story. I focused so much on it, I was able to finish the whole book within a week, in time to see the movie in theaters. (Which I found mildly disappointing.) Also for Christmas, I got the beginning series of Y: The Last Man, about the only dude left alive after a plague wipes out everyone with a Y chromosome. It's written by Brian K. Vaughn; also one of the lead writers for the TV series, Lost. Reading Y is like watching an episode of a TV show, but you're actually reading. Awesome, and highly recommended.

Visit another country
Completed this last month with a trip down to Florida. Headed to Miami and took a short cruise over to the Bahamas. But even though I showed off my passport to customs, et al, it wasn't that gratifying -- no stamps! But my stepdad promises to remedy this by taking all of his and my mom's kids to Mexico next March.

Control my finances
Working on it. I'm still using mint.com, and it's come in handy to keep me on track (for the most part). I also write down every expense in my ledger, religiously. So, not only do I keep track of things going in and out of my account online, I record how much money comes out exactly when I spend it.

I just have to keep in mind summer's coming up; where I'll want to go to every Brewer game possible, along with camping trips, Summerfest, music concerts and cookouts. Gotta keep it frugal.

Participate in a marathon
My final, and most ambitious feat. (ooh, punz.) I promised myself I'd train hard for a half marathon first (13.1 miles compared to a full marathon at 23.2 miles), because I'VE NEVER RAN A LONG DISTANCE IN MY LIFE. No cross country, no 5Ks, no H.S. track.

Since beginning my training I've had bloody feet, blisters, caluses, shin splints, sores and aching muscles.

Up until recently, I had started falling off the training schedule. I struggled walking into the gym three times a week, not anticipating staring at myself in the mirror while I pushed through five miles on a treadmill. Ugh. It was mundane, boring, overdone.

But two weeks ago, I threw on some sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt and my kicks, and decided to head outside. Only about 45 degrees, I immediately regretted the decision of not bundling up -- until I started running. And I kept running. I made it about 5 miles running, with another 2 miles totaled before and after, for a 7-mile loop.

I had never gone long distances outside, but figured I needed something to change it up. I didn't take for granted the fact that my scenery was changing. I wasn't just running in place, I was going somewhere. It felt amazing.

Then I did it again last Thursday. I planned out a loose trail to follow via mapmyrun.com for my long run of the week, and went to it. I ran a full 7 miles, with an additional 1.5 for warm-up and cooldown, totaling 8.5 miles. And I'm certain I experienced my first-ever real runner's high.

For the second time since I started training, at the end of my route I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and break through the finish line. I felt like I had accomplished something. This was bigger than me.

So, in the final stretch of training -- I know I won't compete professionally with some of those other runners -- my body has already done things I would've never even dreamed of. Here's to finishing up the last seven weeks of training.

Stand by... for news

Back when I was a young tyke, my mom helped my brother and I avoid sweltering Milwaukee summers, where we'd inadvertently be stuck inside, blasting AC and watching TV. She sent us to stay with our grandparents each summer on the lake in Door County.

Every day at lunch, my grandpa turned on his beige Bose stereo to the local radio station, WDOR, tuning in to hear radio news broadcaster Paul Harvey announce and discuss the day's headlines.

After the announcement for News and Comment, "This is Paul Harvey (pregnant pause)... stand by for news!" we didn't say much at the table. Everyone sat facing the radio as we ate and listened -- sometimes my grandpa would grumble or make some comment. Otherwise, we willingly obliged to keep the noise down.

We even kept quiet during the commercials, which Harvey read with the same enthusiasm and voice inflection as the news. The one I remember most was Bose radio; which is why I'm sure my grandpa had one too.

Harvey had a distinct voice, and announced with clear pronunciation. Although he was pretty conservative; from what I remember, he still broadcast the news without a noticeable bias (Then again, I was only eight). Harvey had a way of explaining what was going on with the rest of the world, and helped me appreciate that I wasn't so isolated stuck in a cottage near a lake in northeastern Wisconsin -- even if he was thousands of miles away.

I think it's also why to this day I like hearing news on the radio (like NPR) instead of watching it. At eight years old, I didn't understand how adults could sit through an entire half hour of local news on TV. What about Tail Spin and Duck Tales? But I still listened to Paul Harvey.

In the afternoons, we had to keep the TV down, go outside, or keep quiet in the kitchen, so grandpa could listen to Harvey's The Rest of the Story. Since the show broadcast at 3 PM -- snack time! --, I'd sometimes opt to sit in front of the radio with grandpa with my two gingersnaps or some juicy slices of watermelon.

I liked The Rest of the Story program more, because each segment focused on a certain person, place or thing. They were short interest-pieces, with a twist at the end, where Harvey would finish with "And now you know, the rest of the story." (See: News and Comment is to New York Times, as The Rest of the Story is to Time magazine.)

Last Sunday, February 28, Paul Harvey passed away. He started broadcasting on April 1, 1951, and continued up until a week before he died. He was 91 years old.

Dealing with Uncle Sam

I'm sure almost everyone has received their necessary tax forms over the last month. That includes W-2s, 1099-DIVs, 1099-INTs and 1098 something-or-others for mortgages. Not to mention student loan forms for debt, or forms if you contribute to your HSA, 401k and IRAs after Jan. 1.

Now you have until April 15 to gather all those forms, fill out the information, and file your taxes. Ugh.

I already filed my taxes; which was motivated by the fact that I knew I was getting a return for both state and federal. This year, I only had two forms: one W-2 and one 1099-DIV. That's IT. Total time I'll never get back: 45 minutes. But I'm DONE!

I have three reasons why I can appreciate my situation as an adult come tax season:

#1.) My mom taught me how to file my taxes.
Since I started getting W-2s, she's been there to help me figure out how to fill out the proper paperwork for state and federal taxes. Up until about three years ago, she filed everything by hand. (It's a bitch, don't do it.) I opted to file my taxes online. She insisted I read every page and all the directions, to make sure I didn't skip anything.

#2.) I've been filing my own taxes since I was 18 years old.
I've been employed since the age of 14, but because I didn't work that much for most of middle school and high school, the government kept their hands off most of my money. You're only required to file a tax return if you make more than a certain amount. Even if you don't meet that requirement, you can still opt to file if you think you'll get money back. Or, if you want to pay because they didn't take out enough. But that'd be damn foolish.

#3.) I worked at a bank for more than two years.
A call center to be more exact, and it was bitch come tax season. From mid-January until the end of April, people would call about forms they received, how much interest they earned, and how to file taxes. We couldn't help with the last one -- you're supposed to talk to a tax advisor. But, we had hours of training on what forms go with what accounts, and when people receive certain tax forms for savings accounts, HSAs, 401Ks, IRAs and CDs, or some loans.

Still have to file? Here are a few tips:

-Make sure you have ALL of the proper forms and information before getting started. That means W-2s, even from PT jobs (Did you work for a lawn service for two months last summer? Get paid for some after-school program with kids?); interest earned on stock dividends and savings accounts (But only if it's more than 10.00); and student loan forms. You'll need your SSN, and bank account and routing number too, if you opt for direct deposit.

-If you're getting a refund, go with direct deposit. You'll get your money in about 7-10 days, instead of 4-6 weeks.

-Most people don't have to worry about itemizing deductions on your return. That'll usually happen if you've collected a lot of unemployment over the year, own a house or make a shit-ton of money. But either way, many filing programs can help you with both.

-You have to file your federal taxes before your state.

-The most important: File online -- FOR FREE.
No matter what they say, most people don't have to pay to have your taxes done. If you made less than $56,000 in 2007, even better.
Go to irs.gov and answer some questions about your financial status. The site then automatically redirects you to one of many free tax filing service sites most suitable for you. I've been using H&R Block for the last three years.

-Do NOT pay an additional charge on the federal site you use, to file your state taxes. You can pay $30 for convenience, or spend another 20 minutes filing on a separate site. Just google your state and "free file" or "e-z file". Wisconsinites can go to www.revenue.wi.gov.

Dropping the ball

At the beginning of every January, my biggest concern is usually how massive my hangover headache will be, and how much Tylenol I'll actually be consuming to ring in the new year. I have slight justification, because my birthday is January 1 -- but as I get older, I realize that celebrating by mixing the trifecta of alcohols for one night is not only a terrible idea, but leaves me nothing else to look forward to. I got my practice in this weekend anyway. (Thanks MrB!)

Without further adieu, I've made a few resolutions for 2009:

Read books. Easy enough, right? Maybe... Ever since signing up for not one -- not two -- but five magazine subscriptions, I've had little to no time to catch up on what I really enjoy: Books. I've decided not to renew my NY Review of Books and New Yorker magazines, opting to spend my free time on the dozens of books I bought but haven't picked up in the last year. My goal? Finish at least one book a month, on top of my additional reading. (WI Natural Resources, Lapham's Quarterly and Time magazines.)

Participate in a marathon. Initially, I had decided to run a marathon, but because I pulled my quad back in October, I sometimes have trouble running. Even if I can't run the day of the race, I can still prepare myself for a large feat of athleticism with proper training. By training for something this big, I'll also be able to tailor my diet and work on cross-training with different equipment, including weight lifting, to stay healthy all around.

Visit another country. I left this a little broad, but my main goal is to visit Europe before the end of 2010. Now, I might leave the U.S. this coming February by taking a short cruise to the Bahamas when I go on vacation to Florida. (Apparently, you need a passport; which I have and haven't been able to use.) Otherwise, maybe India at the end of 2009, when my cousin gets married. Regardless of where I go, I want OUT.

Control my finances. Remember in college when you decided applying for a credit card would help solve all your money problems, because you could just pay it back later, when you had a real job? IT'S A LIE.

I've been plagued with controlling my spending since I became an adult. Now, it's time to budget. Mi madre graciously offered to help me, instead of paying credit card companies hundreds of dollars in finance charges, I'll make payments to her each month.

I also need to start budgeting. That means I can't just buy a new outfit at Express, or go out to eat for lunch three times in one week. I've got a set payment for my debt, as well as my car loan -- but how do I keep track of this beast? www.mint.com!

Mint.com is a free personal finance website to help track every aspect of my debt and income. I signed up a few months ago, only to watch my debt fluctuate while my stocks and retirement funds dwindled. AYE YAYE YAYE.

This weekend I took a closer look at how the site really works. After organizing and categorizing all my spending for the month of December, I could take a look at where most of my money was really going. I can track how much I'll set aside each month for my budget, including car payments, gas, groceries, other bills and extras.

I can set limits on how much I'll allow myself in each category, and get an email when I go over budget.

It's easy to set up, and I can monitor all of my accounts on one site, including my 401K, IRAs, mutual funds, credit cards, car loans, checking and savings accounts; instead of logging into each site separately.

Here's to looking up, and saving some this coming year.

Urban sprawl

I headed home to Green Bay this past weekend (for free laundry at mi madres, and to visit Biddy in Marinette).

As I pulled off the highway from 43 N, I noticed a change in the skyline of boxed buildings around the off-ramp.

Great, more stores.

I understand the need for shopping centers, grocery stores, gas stations and restaurants, but since moving to Green Bay 12 years ago, there's been significant development, turning the once prairie-grassed, isolated suburb into a full out traffic laden, brick-built, strip-malled, pavement landscape.

And every time I go back, there's a new commercial building being built.

When we moved in, there were three buildings -- Lou's One Stop gas station, the Dorsch Ford dealership and Cliff & Ceil's ballroom -- and they were just beginning to build a Hardee's.

BEFORE:

Now, across County JJ, passed the backyard of my mom's house, cookie cutter homes dot the other side of the road. Not to mention, the following businesses in the area:

-four strip malls
-Menards
-Festival Foods (my H.S. job as a cashier)
-a rebuilt Cliff & Ceils
-TWO more gas stations
-Home Depot
-a hotel
-some Harley Davidson repair center
-two banks
-Tumbleweed, McDonalds, Jimmy Johns, Taco Johns, A&W and Subway

And the newest edition, right across the street: Stein Gardens and Gifts.

AFTER:

Do we really need eight different fast food options, three places to get gas and two DIY stores within a half-mile radius?

Wouldn't it make more sense to construct one large building (AKA a mall), with a whole bunch of stores, instead of completely destroying all of the natural land around the highway?

It was inevitable that development would happen, especially with so many people moving into the area. (It is a suburb, after all).

Not to mention the affects of locally owned stores. Mom and pop shops are completely run out by corporations who build 1 mil.-sq.-ft. facilities, undercut prices, then abandon the building. From personal experience, I saw it happen in Stevens Point as they continued building along Hwy. 10 instead of renovating and continuing to develop the downtown area.

So I say, develop and remodel what's already there, instead of continuing to spread like an epidemic.

With the increased traffic, destruction of land, and the overall loss of aesthetics to the area -- it only supports what I've been thinking recently: it makes more sense to live in a more metropolitan area.

Although you're not exactly removing your carbon footprint by living within city limits, at least you have access to mass transit, stores in close proximity, and the option to live and renovate buildings that are already there.

Build up, not out.

Negotiator hater

I've owned my Toyota Camry going on two years now. I haven't run into trouble yet (knock on wood), but I credit preventative maintenance and knowing the limits of my vehicle to keep it in near-perfect running condition. After all, it's an investment.

I clean out garbage on a regular basis (unless I'm living out of the thing for an entire weekend). I replace filters and check fluids, including oil, making sure to get an oil change every 3-4,000 miles. That means rotating my tires every other.

So I didn't hesitate when my friend Tom let me know last February that I needed to replace my tires before the first snow fall of next year, because the tread had worn so much.

Now it's the middle of September. It's time to bite the bullet and drain my checkbook for the big investment.


I remember when I signed the contract for my car...

Two Octobers ago, I went back to Mark Toyota in Plover, WI after walking along the lines of used parked cars a couple nights before. My brother came along (for dude support), and I decided to test drive the black '03 Camry I had checked out.

I wanted it. Bad. It rode like a dream, compared to my shitty Ford Contour. It had a CD player, cruise control, power everything and came Toyota Certified for 100,000 miles. Plus, it was black.

I played the used car dealer game. He was a younger guy, maybe mid-twenties -- so there was a possibility one of us might take the other for a fool.

I sat down in the office, talked about price. The sticker sat at $18,900. No way could I afford something like that. He came back with 16 and change. I suggested something less than 15... it had over 70,000 miles. I had done my research -- the car was worth a little under $14,000 according to edmunds.com, with the mileage. He went back, said we could discuss.

I wanted to see the car again.

We checked out the gadgets, opened the trunk, turned on the stereo. I suggested $13,500. He went back in. The final price was set at $14,000. He invited us back inside for paperwork, but I declined. I told him I'd think about it.

Then he said, "If I have your word, will you take $13,500." Yep.

On the contract, I had to cross out my first name, then my last name, I spelled them wrong I was so nervous. I couldn't control the adrenaline pumping through my body, and couldn't hide the wide grin on my face. I just negotiated for, and bought, my first car.

Back to today...

I had looked up prices for tires online, and at the local Goodyear. It was about 30.00 cheaper per tire to go with the Internet price (before taxes and shipping), but I'd have to have someone mount and balance them. I called Goodyear, and said I was told $124.95 a tire, and $60 for the install. I could get them about $20 cheaper on the Internet, and would they match?

He thought about it, but said they couldn't go that low. I suggested $10 off per tire. He explained online purchases are more difficult to cover with warranties. Plus, Goodyear offers free tire rotations for the life of the tire. But -- he agreed to the new price.

I'm getting new tires Friday. And an oil change.

It takes some gall, and I get uncomfortable doing it, but negotiating is a great way to save money, and build some skillz. The worst they can say is "no."

All you have to do is ask.

You almost forgot...

I was walking to my 2nd hour German IV class senior year of high school. It was Tuesday.

Ben Wright stormed in telling the class one of the World Trade Center buildings in NYC had been hit by a plane. Frau Marshall let us turn on the TV to watch.

It had to be a mistake. A miscalculation with the air tower. How does a plane hit a 110-story building, on accident?

Then, the second plane hit the south tower.

First reaction? Confusion. Then, disbelief.

By the end of 2nd hour, the first tower had collapsed.

No one understood what a terrorist attack was. (I'm not talking blatant media scare tactics. I mean actual violence inflicted to make a statement, while jeopardizing innocent human lives as collateral damage.)

Mr. Bauduin, my 3rd hour Psychology teacher, let us watch CNN. I remember bodies falling from the 96th floor. Or the 100th floor? Little black dots, almost confused with the billion sheets of paper floating to the ground. But bodies don't float through the air the same way.

No one talked in the halls. No one did school work. After lunch, the teachers in my classes had shut off the TVs, but no one did any work.

I worked at Festival Foods after school that night. Some people commented; wondered what the world was coming to. Others kept their heads down with sober eyes. Everyone bought canned goods. Bottled water. Propane tanks. Firewood.

I remember bits and pieces days and weeks after. I watched CNN and MSNBC daily. I became obsessed with how the buildings fell, why it happened, finding the victims, and watching every minuscule detail unfold. I felt like I was apart of it -- directly affected.

For awhile, patriotism ran rampant. People smiled and helped out. Neighbors were cordial, if not downright friendly.

And everyone kept saying, "It takes this for people to appreciate others?"

I don't remember when I turned off my TV. It's been seven years.