Every Day is Mother's Day

Well...not really. The title simply helps justify a Mother's Day-themed post written a day late.

My blog. My rules.

 

Life's all about balance. Today's example :

 

When you spend a couple of hours, on Mother's Day, running miles in these sorts of conditions :

that "partly cloudy" description was a lie. Unless sweat in the eyes counts as "clouds"

 

You have to balance it out with spending a greater or equal amount of time doing things like this:

 

bliss for the boys and their mama

 

I hope all of your Sundays were awesome. Next up : Balancing blog-posting laziness with...well...un-laziness. 







 

 

Feelings

I've been staring at this blank page since I raced my way to a Boston Qualifying time. It's not that I was unsure what to say, there's just too much I want to share. (and probably very little that any of you will actually care to read). I've realized I'm going to have to split it into 3 parts.

 

First: I'm going to have to get some feelings out of the way. They were/are integral and important.

 

Second: The Figures and facts. (mile splits, fueling, etc) It's not interesting to everyone, but I love to have it to look back on. Also, I've made poor Mike wait long enough.

 

Third: The actual race specifics. It's an awesome and fairly unique event. It deserves it's own story. This will likely not happen for a few months, though. I think, once Summer descends and my racing season ends for a while, I'll take that time to go back and share some recaps (expos, crowd support, after parties...that sort of thing)

 

See why this has taken so long? That took up a ton of space and it was only a boring intro!

 

note to moms: step out from behind the camera sometimes. Your children get frustrated when these are the only types of photos they can find with you in them

 

In 2004, my dearest friend (who was also nice enough to have birthed me) found a lump in her breast. She's a semi-professional worrier, so I definitely took it seriously, but didn't panic. She was active, ate healthy, had recently lost a bunch of weight and our family doesn't have a history of breast cancer.

 

I, heavily pregnant, joined her and my dad to hear the results of the biopsy. After what seemed like an eternity, they emerged from the office in tears. They were emotional wrecks (naturally) and started spilling out the bad news. 

 

For some mysterious reason, my every emotion, (even the pregnancy/hormonal ones!) were pushed aside and I just started getting down to business. I'm sure they didn't fully appreciate my immediate barrage of questions and detailed plans of attack, but it sure helped me deal. It was in that moment that I realized my role. I needed to be a source of strength. No, crying and showing raw emotions are not forms of weakness. For me, though, I couldn't break down in tears with them AND sort through how we were going to deal with Breast Cancer. I needed to be tear-free and business-like.

 

Weeks later, my mom and I attended a seminar at the local hospital. The volunteers were explaining various options for headgear during chemotherapy (wigs, scarves, hats) and ways to apply makeup when you've lost all of your eyelashes. They showed a video of heartbreakingly beautiful women, like my mom, who had suffered so much and were dedicated to helping others try to keep their spirits up. It was totally random, but I felt the tears coming. I waddled (still pregnant) to the bathroom and sobbed 'til I puked. My mom never saw, though she may have suspected. We finished off the class, laughed and played with the makeup samples and wigs and left feeling simultaneously devasted and hopeful.

 

 She's not called Grandma, she's "Buddy". Oh, and she loves babies.

 

In January 2005, I delivered a beautiful baby boy and my mom started down a long, hideously awful road of chemo and radiation treatments. We threw her a Hat Party, brought her popsicles when it was all she could stomach, scoured the surrounding cities for some sort of air freshener that was "Nothing" scented. (she became hyper-aware of smells and it further nauseated her) She was so physically weak and battered, but still so very "mom". Everything about her personality remained. I will never forget that. Wouldn't it have been so much easier for her to have just broken down and turned into a whiny jerk?!



"silly, Buddy, it's okay!" "I'm bald, too!"

During one of her follow-up Oncology appointments, the doctor (a runner) stressed to my mom the importance of physical fitness for recovery. At that time, my mom was in no shape to even walk for any length of time, but it turned on a switch in my brain.

Soon after, I started turning my (kinda) daily walks into attempts to run. I knew nothing other than the fact that I could move my feet faster than I previously had, without dying. Also, I loved it.  I kept the new hobby mostly between The Husband and myself, though. (my sissy recently mentioned this in one of her brilliant posts. Yes, my mom's illness and recovery had awakened a desperate need for me to keep my body moving. No, I didn't feel it appropriate to be all "Listen, mom, I know you can't even roll over without pain, but I found out I love to run!" Not good timing.

More babies...more life stuff...lots of time off running, but I re-discovered a passion for it a couple of years later. Short story long : My mom is cancer-free and I've proudly called myself A Runner for about four years. Seemingly unrelated until you toss in the Marathon I just ran.

If you haven't yet clicked on the link, it's a race to "Finish Breast Cancer". 100% of the profits go back into local breast cancer research and support. When picking my races for this year, it was hard to argue with the merits of that one. Since it'd be my third one in five months, though, I expected to just run it "for the cause". Once I fell soooo short of my lofty goals at this disaster of a marathon, though, I was dead-set on running these 26.2 miles in less than 3 hours and 40 minutes.

his Game Face is so much cuter than mine

 

I took the no-brainer route and decided to run this race For My Mom. Only, I didn't actually tell her I'd be doing that. To set a nearly 20 minute PR goal, tell her about it and then tell her how I failed would've been disappointing (for me), to say the least.

 

As I mentioned, all the numbers and race details will be included in the next post. Here's a sneak peek, though : For the majority of the race, I was ahead of the 3:35 pace group. When they passed me, and the miles started getting oh-so-dark, I started down the cowardly route.

 

I told myself it was okay to not Qualify For Boston, as I'd still have my fastest marathon finishing time, ever! That thought was thoroughly destroyed when I remembered My Reason, My Why, My Motivation for this race. Those frightening, surgery and misery-filled days flashed before me.

 

My mother had gracefully survived a Life-Threatening Disease and I was whining about keeping up my pace for 30-40 more stinking minutes?!

 

So I pushed on, without crying. All that strength that magically came to me when my mom was fighting this disease, returned.

I thought of Elaine, another very dear-to-me woman who fought (and fought. and fought) and did not, in the end, survive Breast Cancer. I started to choke up and instead smiled when I realized that, if she were alive, she'd be running this race with me. That type of crazy would be right up her alley.

At mile 24, I thought of Sandy. She, too, was taken by this disease. Instead of running, though, she'd very likely be praying for my soul, assuming I'd lost my mind by paying to run 26.2 miles. That, too, chased away tears and brought a necessary calm.

At mile 25, I was basically a robot. No emotion, no thought other than "You have NOT come this far to FAIL!" Then I saw The Dreaded Bridge and nearly lost it. I was desperately conjuring up images of my mom, my family, the tearful, joyous finish line I'd been imagining all year. That Bridge? It was winning.

Then I saw her. The lady on the left side holding a black poster with white lettering. She wasn't jumping up and down or shaking maracas, like the other spectators. She was simply looking right at me and smiling.

As I begged and pleaded for my shaking legs to make that final ascent, her poster lit those things on fire.

"I'm a Breast Cancer Survivor. Thank You For Running For Me"

We both had sunglasses on, but I like to think we made eye contact. I wish I could've thanked HER. I flew down that bridge and crossed that line while the clock still read 3:39xx. But the tears didn't come. The strength and basic lack of emotion stayed with me. Mostly I was in disbelief. It wasn't until several days later, much like the random sobfest with my mom, that it happened.

I was looking at my race photos and pulled up the Finisher's Certificate. For some reason, when I saw my name, followed by those final numbers, I just sat there and cried. (and cried. and cried) I finally realized that I set out to run a Boston Qualifying Marathon, for my beautiful and amazing mother, and had actually done it. It hadn't just "happened". I FREAKING DID THAT!

I'll never know why my mom was spared when others weren't. All I know is that I'm beyond grateful for every single day I have with her and I'll never be able to thank her enough for inspiring me to conquer seemingly impossible challenges.

 

 





We Interrupt This Running Blog

To bring you...

 

skiing!!

 

Some of my more intuitive readers may have wisely realized that this activity cannot take place in Florida. Indeed, wise friends, we took the boys for a long weekend to North Carolina. The two youngers have never tried any sort of snowy sports, so we figured it cheapest best to start them out on tiny, East Coast mountains.

 

Never ceasing to amaze, though, they took to skiing and snowboarding like ducks to water...or maybe penguins to ice blocks....whatever. They were naturals.

oh. They were really cute, too.

Bonus: The Oldest is big enough to wear The Husband's gear!

 

Middle-of-the-night road trip, followed by an entire day on the slopes should have led to utter exhaustion followed by complete meltdowns. Our children surprised us, once again, by being totally compliant, sweet and in total enjoyment of every second of the day.

 



snow angels

 

I know you were dying to know what my feet looked like when not clad in running shoes

 

On the off chance you stopped by my blog to get your much-needed fix of my awesome running tales, there was a bit of that on this trip, too. After our free!! hotel breakfast, I hopped out for a short, hilly jaunt. It wasn't quite as cold as it had been the previous day, and the overnight rain had washed away any snow. It was still lovely to be in new surroundings, enjoying the beautiful area and the feeling of the cool air on my cheeks.

one of the pic-worthy spots on my route

 

I spotted an enormous hill, just off the main road, and decided to attack it. First, though, I pulled out my phone to take a picture from the bottom. I've always seen photos of hills with a caption that reads something like this : "This picture doesn't do it justice" or "You can't really tell how tall it was from this picture".

 

Mentally scoffing at those who'd gone before me, I positioned myself just right to photographically capture a true depiction of the mountain I was about to conquer.

Listen, you can't really tell from this picture how high that thing really was

 

I made it just over halfway up before gasping and panting my way (carefully) back down. My poor, sick lungs were just not ready for that sort of challenge. That yet-to-be-recapped Marathon did a number on me!

 

We took our sweet, sight-seeing time back to Florida. The trip was long enough to squeeze in just about everything we wanted to do, but short enough to where we weren't aching for home by the end of it.

 

pausing the rock-skipping to pose for mom

 

How was your weekend? 





 



 

 



Me + Jeff Gordon = Twins!

Fraternal, obviously.

This is really just a recap of a 5k. The title makes it sound much more exciting, though, doesn't it?! C'mon...would you have been just as excited to read a post called "I Ran a 5k. Read All About It"?

Didn't think so.

This was my first year racing in the Daytona 5k. My brother-in-law's wife picked it out for us, and I'm a pretty easy sell, when it comes to races.

in case you were picturing a scary Race Boss-Lady. She's actually very lovely, all around

 

The race starts on the Daytona International Speedway. It loops around the inside track and finishes on the track. So, the runners are pretty much. somewhat similar to? exactly like the drivers who race on the same Speedway!

 

Also, the race coincides with the Rolex 24, an actual Nascar race, so there were even die-hard fans camped out on the infield to complain about us waking them cheer us on! The concept was pretty cool, but it made for a stressful (for me) parking situation. The Husband drove me, my dad and the boys to the race and handled the poorly-marked signage like a champ.

 

Once parked, my dad and I managed to find a set of port-a-potties with NO LINE and we all hopped on the well-manned Tram to get to the packet pick-up area.

 

It was just under 50 degrees F, which made me ridiculously happy. It's so rare that we Floridians get to race in conditions like that. My high hopes for a PR inched up a notch higher.

 

Our goody bags contained a ticket to the Rolex 24, a couple of race flyers, a shirt and the standard biofreeze sample. I managed to end up with a tee shirt, instead of a tech shirt. This has happened to me before. Not a big deal, but I hadn't complained about anything since the Parking Problem, so I thought it was about time. The race wasn't terribly well-advertised, so I wasn't expecting much in the way of "swag". Despite this fact, over 800 people still showed to up run. Those kinds of numbers are pretty high for our area!

t-shirt proof

 

(I'm still pretty sure some of the participants were Nascar fans who may have wandered away from their campsites and ended up on the track.)

some other cuties who wandered onto the track

 

We found my brother-in-law (Alan) and his wife (Kristi-Anne) (pictured above, for reference) and pinned on our bibs without much time to spare. She'd drawn the short straw and would be pushing their toddler in the race. Alan would get to show off and beat us all, as per usual. This would be my dad's first race in over a year, due to persistent (and REALLY annoying) injuries so we were all pretty ready to start running. There was no time for a warm-up and no water to be found. (too soon for another complaint?), so we hurried over to where we thought the start would be.

 

There was an enormous mass of people that prevented us from even seeing where the start line was located. We saw one guy point in a vague direction and crossed our fingers that we'd see a timing mat, at some point. My dad, Alan and I saw people moving and assumed the race had started. Unsure if it was chip-timed at the finish AND start, I began weaving like a crazylady. The menfolk followed my lead and we eventually made our way out of the throng of racers.

 

While I don't love that sort of cluster at a start, I do have to admit it was pretty fun to pass that many people, once we got moving.

 

About 1/2 mile in, my BIL passed me and I focused on keeping his back in sight. I figured my dad was probably using me as a visual pacing reference, as well. I was feeling very strong, very much in control of my breathing and very confident with him about 30 feet in front of me.

 

And then I heard it. The annoyingly familiar snap-flop sound of my shoelaces, all willy-nilly and free, slapping the pavement.

 

"Aaaaahhh! Are you kidding me?!" 

 

Dear Mr. or Mrs. Brooks : I will give you ten, crisp dollars to fix the laces on these shoes.

Sincerely, Aggravated Consumer

 

In answer to your question : Yes. I always double-knot my shoes. These laces are notorious for coming undone and it was my own fault for not remembering that.

 

I made the agonizing to decision to step out of everyone's way and re-tie the shoe, as I felt it actually slipping off. While I had no qualms about finishing shoe-less, I would've felt awful about someone tripping over it. I didn't stop my watch and saw, later, that I lost over 25 seconds double-knotting (again!) the stupid shoe.

 

I re-focused and re-passed a lot of the racers who'd sped by me while I was crouched in annoyance. Alan, however, was merely a speck in the distance. Undeterred, and knowing I still had a decent chance of placing in my age group, I pressed on. 

 

Then, just after the 2nd mile marker, you'll never guess what happened! (those of you who already know the story, don't spoil it for the others, please)

 

The same, double-knotted, stupid, stinking, good-for-nothing laces came undone. Again. I'm still not at the point where I can think about it and laugh. It was really, really, really annoying and frustrating.

 

In a longer race, I could've made up the time. Not so much in a 5k.

 

This time, however, there was no way I was tying those things again. My gait was wonky, as I fought to curl my speedy foot inside the rapidly loosening shoe, but by golly I was not stopping. As if to taunt me, the laces themselves flew up and smacked me in the calf, repeatedly.

 

"Yoo hoo. We're untied and flopping about wildly!" the jerks teased.

 



Ironic Spoiler: I didn't fall. That happened the next day, with my laces firmly intact.

 

My watch showed 21:55 when I crossed the finish line. Being on the Official Racetrack, and all, I figured that was probably as accurate as a 5k was going to get. There weren't too many women in front of me, so I was pretty happy.

 

Not a PR, thanks to the unruly laces, but good enough to garner me:

 

6th Female, overall

1st Female, 35-39

44th, overall

shiny!

 

My brother-in-law also finished 1st in his division and my dad, 5th. My sister-in-law, in an effort to end the protests of my stroller-bound nephew, flew through the race with a sub-28 minute finish!

me and my fastie daddy. Kinda posing...kinda trying not to roll down the steep bank

 

Alan & I, awkwardly proclaiming our results...and trying not to roll down the steep bank

 

 

The kids race started right on time, which is always awesome. The folks in charge forgot to bring ribbbons to hand out, though. Not quite so awesome.

 

The Littlest, powering through the Finish

The Middlest, leading a cutthroat pack

 

We found some other runner-friends and caught up during the awards ceremony. After I fought my way through the paparazzi, though, to head to the car, I was very sad to discover all the post-race goodies had been packed up and taken away. Missing out on bagels and bananas may have been more upsetting than the lack of a PR, for me.

 

In Summary:

 

• I'd recommend this race. It's a fun and unique experience with a good-sized turnout and smooth organization.
• Don't try to park where you see the giant, well-light "Competitor Parking" sign. It's not meant for you. Drive down the road until you see a small arrow and confusing rows of vehicles.
• I can't guarantee you'll get a tech shirt. If you do, can I trade you?
• If you see me, on the racetrack, steer clear. It's very likely that my shoelaces are untied and I don't want you to trip me us.
• If you see a dark-haired girl, with a adorable-yet-vocal toddler in a jogging stroller, steer clear of her, too. She may run you down in an effort to finish and free him from his restraints.
• When you finish the race, make a beeline for the food tables and just start grabbing. That stuff will be gone before you know it.
• If you get tired, these guys know the perfect place to relax and reflect on the race

Somewere out there, a jealous Nascar fan is dying to have that white paint all over their backside

 

Ever been to a Nascar race?

 

Do you have any tricks for keeping laces tied?

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 





Pride Cometh After A Fall

I was going to recap yesterday's 5k. I'll still do that this week. Today's initially innocuous run just took precedence in my tiny brain, though. Fair warning: there are some gross photos and fairly raw emotion included. Drama? Yes. Long-Winded? Mmm. Hm. Tempted to keep reading? Probably not.

If you prefer to spend your time reading something funnier, lighter and more intelligent, please visit my sissy's new blog and enjoy this post.

Having not run more than 17 miles since my mess of a marathon in December, I planned to knock out a solid 20-miler before this much-anticipated event. Training has been solid. Other than some overall fatigue, I've been feeling great. So, when preparing for this morning's long run, I set a goal.

Keep it easy, but finish with an average pace you'll be happy and confident about. That actual number's not important to the story, but I had a small range in mind.

Unfortunately, even after a relaxing night, good sleep and plenty of hydration, I woke up feeling pretty groggy and un-motivated. Coffee helped and I was out the door with little trepidation. It was (Florida) cool, very damp and foggy. The morning was still dark, quiet and almost silent. Everything was shrouded in creepy, heavy mist and it was too early for even die-hard dogwalkers to be out.

not quite as dark as this run ,but you get the idea

A lot of my runs begin this way. Normally I enjoy the peace. It's a chance to clear my thoughts, plan my week, set small goals and focus on happy moments my family and I have spent together, recently. Today, though, the dark miles passed very slowly, both physically and mentally. Yesterday's race was taking it's toll on my legs and I ran out of happy-go-lucky way too quickly.

Sunrise happened and helped my mood, immensely. And then it didn't. Oddly, for me, I felt very lonely. While most of my runs are solo, I was suddenly craving company. There were overwhelmingly ugly feelings of jealousy towards my running buddies I knew would be enjoying their miles with friends, today.

where were all these guys when I needed them?!

 

Then my phone rang. Sometimes, while "in the groove", the distraction can be a slight annoyance. Today's call was perfectly timed, though. My dear, sweet husband wanted to know where I'd be so he and the boys could come offer "on-course" support. We picked a place and I hung up with a smile to replace my former, sour frown.

 

Miles 8-14 were mostly a blissful blur. I threw in a challengingly faster mile, turned on my audiobook and looked forward to seeing my guys in a short while. The weather prevented me from even working up a real sweat. My legs were getting achy and fatigued, but in a good and normal way. The city was wide awake, finally, and the bevvy of new activity around me was a welcome distraction.

 

When I came up to The Husband and Middlest, sans vehicle, I realized they'd be hoofing it with me, for a bit. That brilliant idea was such an awesome surprise! Middlest rode his scooter (not so fast!) in front of us, and The Husband and I caught up on fun stories while he tried to slow his (much fresher) legs. After a couple sips of water, I left him with my half-full handheld as it was getting annoying to carry. With less than five miles to go, and the temperature being so lovely, I'd be fine without any more fuel.

 

They honked, waved, cheered and drove back home. I returned the wave and rallied my heavy legs to finish this run strong.

Quick disclaimer : "strong" and "fast" are not interchangeable, in this particular context. I'm a firm believer in the benefits of running my long days at an easy pace.



 

I'd gotten about a quarter-mile away before I tripped on a minuscule crack in the sidewalk.

 

My body went flying and skidding. As was the case with my last fall I simply didn't have any spare energy to try to stop the crash. I slid on my palms, scraped my arm, hip, knee and hand.

 

Two things registered, immediately.

1. OW!

2. There was a line of cars waiting to pull into the church entrance where I was hideously sprawled and a dozen or so congregation members, in the parking lot, staring at me in horror.

 

Fact Number 2 got me to my feet faster than I could've ever imagined. I surveyed the important damage (Garmin ok? Ipod still as intact as ever?) ,while I ran away from the humiliating scene. My body, while bruised and stinging, was still moving as it should be. That fact, along with the realization that my phone was in the handheld water bottle I'd sent with my husband, forced me to continue this run I so desperately wanted to abruptly end.

 

When I reached the 16th mile, and remembered that the next few stretches would be full of tall (Florida) hills, I finally paused my watch and fully stopped to survey the damage. I guess I was hoping that it was much less benign than I thought it was? I stopped the exploratory searches when I saw this:

spoiler: I survived and took pics after the run

 

While I now, rationally, realize it's simply a scraped knee, at that moment it was enough to drive me to actual tears. Frustration (why does this keep happening to me?!), Embarrassment (which isn't an emotion I generally succumb to), Exhaustion and Defeat overwhelmed me. Glancing up the steep hill, I saw people coming, so I slowly and sadly stumbled on. The thought crossed my mind to ask them if they had a phone so I could call my husband for a ride. By the time I reached them, though, my stupid crying fit was over and I'd decided to keep running. My pace was abysmal, my spirit was dead and my freaking bruised hands hurt like a b*#)%!

 

With everything now aching, inside and out, I shakily managed to switch my ipod back on to drown everything out with some music. When it started filling my ears, brain and heart, it was like a switch was flipped within me, as well.

 

I picked up my head, focused on the wisdom of Van Halen ("Right Now? It's Everything!") and my form, and destroyed the next hill.

 

Now, well into the seventeenth mile, I stopped looking at my watch but remembered my earlier goals for this training run. My legs started churning out beautiful-feeling movements but my breathing stayed soft and easy.

 

When Dave Grohl started singing about his "Hero", there wasn't a doubt in my mind he was referring to me.

 

Thinking back to my very first 20-miler, and the overwhelming sense of emotion and pride I felt when I knew I was going to finish it strongly, I started to get choked up, once again. That run had been prior to my injury, . While I'd managed to heal and get my fitness to a place where I could giddily complete my very first marathon, I'd very rarely felt "back", during my subsequent runs.

 

Here's the thing about running. It can, without warning or provocation, turn into an absolutely spiritual experience. It's not something you can plan or force. Some miles, some races, some impromptu jaunts with friends, just totally morph into something that cannot be explained without sounding like a complete dork. This, obviously, doesn't stop me from trying...

 



When I finished today's 20 miles, and realized they were, overall, even faster than my pre-injury ones(complete with fall and blubbering like a baby!), I couldn't decide whether I wanted to holler, cry (again) or just let my proud smile overtake my tired face.

 

So I did all three.

bruised & bloodied hip

 

curious about how I managed to scrape the palm AND back of the same hand

 

 

 

 

 



Answers for Un-Asked Questions

Alternate Title : You never asked, I'll answer anyway!

Also, thanks for weighing in on the last post's questions. If you didn't, yet, there's still time! You'll totally win a prize for providing the best answer, too! (Not!)

A lot of bloggers get asked enough questions, that said bloggers can create entire posts dedicated to quenching their readers' thirst for knowledge about them and the life they lead. I don't really get asked any questions, specifically.

This fact will never lead me to believe my life is un-interesting, though. My readers are simply left reeling from the burst of excitement I inect, into their (your) days, with each and every pointless post!

Imaginary Question #1: Haven't seen you around the interwebs, lately. Have you still been running? Yes. I've run in 81 degree afternoons and 40 degree mornings, all in the same week. (Florida weather's pretty interesting, huh?). I expertly avoided a PR in a 15k relay, this past weekend.

not a jump of excitement. The timing mat didn't register me the 1st (or 2nd) time across

 

I counted the 5k as my speedwork and threw in a couple, double-digit runs, too. Everything's been going well and I'm excited for my last few races of the season. I have another 5k, this weekend, that I get to run with some family members. Very awesome.

 

Next weekend, (wow. Is it really coming up that soon?!) I'm going to try to beat last year's time at this half marathon. I love the course, after party and family events there. The two bridge crossings are not real high on my "love" list, but they probably won't kill me.

 

I'll let you digest those two races for a couple days before we dive into the rest of my schedule.

 

Imaginary Question #2: Did you just stop typing up this post to peek through your blinds to watch your neighbors scream at each other? Yes. Yes I did. Lesson : Scream at your spouse inside your house. It's very likely your nosy neighbors are watching when you do it outside.

 

Imaginary Question #3: Do you often, silently curse your dad for giving you chronic Achilles tendinitis? If you're reading this and you ARE my dad, then the answer is no. Of course not. If, however, you happen to be anyone other than my dad, then yes. Yes I do. Out of all of his amazing attributes, he decided to pass on bad teeth and hopelessly weak tendons.



thanks a bunch, dad

 

There are countless other questions no one has asked me, that I feel the need to answer. For now, though, I have to continue to clean up Birthday Weekend 2013. The Oldest and Middlest's birthdays are one day apart, so the partying aftermath tends to look a little something like this:

They had fun and that's all that matters

 







Pretend I asked YOU a meaningful question and go ahead and answer it :

Poll Time

I love getting up really early to work, only to find out the remote server I connect to is down.

NOT!

I'm trying to resurrect that phrase. Let me know if you're on board.

Today's regularly scheduled drivel will be replaced by something beneficial to me only for all of us. The potential racers will be grateful and you, the reader/commenter will be rewarded with a feeling of pride and satisfaction at how helpful you were.

Win-Win.

If you were to be offered a One Mile Race, the weekend of Mother's Day, would you want it to be on Saturday morning (the day before Mother's Day) or Sunday morning (not too early)? The race would be Mom-Themed and very family-friendly. It would, of course, not be limited to those celebrating the holiday, though.

Soooo...that's about it, for now. Two simple questions :

Which day should the race fall on?

How do you feel about incorporating NOT! into your daily conversations?

Oops. Can't have a picture-less post!

"honey, does that say "the clam was hot"?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

"...because the water was hot, mom."

Short & Sweet Holiday Sunday

Happy Week!

Happy Sunday!

Happy New Years Eve Eve!

Some of today's joys included but were not limited to :

managed to avoid *that* particular pile. Stepped in many others, I'm sure

 

A sunrise, 7+ mile, trail run. I haven't attempted one of these for months, after embarassing myself by getting lost so frequently. Happy to report this didn't happen, this morning!! Save your congratulatory responses, though. This is only because I faithfully stuck to a more experienced trail runner who led and paced us brilliantly.

 

38 degrees! Time to bust out the capris & tall socks.

 

 

hot cocoas in the sunshine

 

What's making you happy, today? 





A Runner's Christmas Eve

Twas the day before Christmas, in this runner's place

Morning run out of the way. I tried hard not to race!

Driving home, I saw folks neatly dressed up in red

I'm in shorts and all sweaty, jaunty antlers on head

 

What to do first? Wrap more gifts? Do some baking?

Nah. The Foam Roller's Calling and my tendons are aching!

Stretching's all done, I should don my red hat

But, first, I'm starving! Need to re-fuel, stat!

 

A shower's not happening. This is now sadly clear

This year, for Christmas, folks get stinky cheer

I'll just break out the wet wipes and dry shampoo

Don't judge. I know some of you have been there, too

 

Still on Mom duty, it's breakfast for the boys

Dressed with teeth brushed, playing loudly with toys

Time to get moving. Need to make cookie dough

First, let me just get those miles logged, though

 

Ok. I'll check out this last running site...

Losing track of time, getting closer to night

I'd like that coffee, while it's still warm

Just need to mail this race registration form

 

Time to tackle that laundry, presents and food

Got my mind off running and in Holiday mood

Tape and scissors in hand, all those gifts in big piles

I know! I should go out for a few more miles!

 

So the boys on their bikes and I in my Brooks

Completely ignore the neighbors' strange looks

We get nice and sweaty and have tons of fun

Merry Christmas to all and to all a happy run!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let's Do This (again)

This is a bit of a cheat. I actually drafted this post before my first marathon, back in October. I set it to publish Sunday morning, the day of the race, but it never did.
I still like it, though, and found it fitting as I'll be running my SECOND marathon, tomorrow.

Enjoy!

By the time you read this, I will either be pounding out 26.2 miles (consecutively, apparently?!) or will be finished doing so and whining things like " why did I EVER think that would be a good idea?!" (clean version of what I'll actually be saying)

While I could type, endlessly, about my feelings about this upcoming race. I'll spare you and keep this short, honest and only mildly dorky.

You're welcome.

GOALS : in reverse order, 'cause no one can stop me.

C : Finish with a smile on my face and a strong desire to race this distance, again. Yes, yes, I have read and been told that "finish" should be my one and only goal for the first marathon. Turns out I'm way too stupid over-acheiving for that nonsense. Really, though, I'm not taking it lightly. I respect the distance and have felt the pain of long-distance racing.

B. Sub 4:00. Without the whole stress fracture business messing with my fragile brain, I'd think this would be totally do-able. The facts remain, though. I was forced to sit and not run for seemingly endless weeks during this training cycle. This goal may turn out to be extremely difficult to reach.

A. 3:45 I have struggled, for months, to come up with realistic, fearful-smile-inducing goals. Earlier this week, though, I had a total moment of peace and clarity. 3:45 it would be. The icing on the CrazyGoal Cake? Afterward my a-ha moment, I plugged my most recent 10k time into Mr. McMillan's calculator. He predicts, based on that stat alone, that my marathon finishing time could be 3:45:12.

The nerves and stress are astronomical. Not only am I venturing into completely unknown territory, but I'm also taking my entire family with me.

Imagine packing your suitcase for your very first marathon.
Now imagine it's also out of the Country.
And you have to pack everything your family of five will need for several days.

SeewhatImean?

The Middlest, demonstrating Freakout Mode

 

It'll all come together. It won't be easy,  it will absolutely be life-changing, and I am so excited I can hardly wait.

 

Please stop back by for a marathon of a recap. 

 



Lucky 13

Is it a little weird/sad that when I typed "13", above, it didn't feel right. I had to fight the urge to add a ".1" after it. What's happened to my brain?

Today's Topic : A peek inside my world . My tiny, corner, desk/workstation, as it looked today :

Organization? I lack.



Some highlights :

• The blue foam roller peeking out, on the right. I am proud to say that I remember to use it 5-7 days/per week. It took me a while to remember to do it, regularly.
• The coffee warmer, on the left. That poor thing has been dropped and spilled on numerous times and keeps on warmin'.
• The library book, with the cover strategically hidden under my grocery list. Last month's Book Club host's selection...not mine.
• A 2013 calender that I've had out for over a month, to remind me to start filling in important dates. In all likelihood, that task will actually take place in early March of 2013. Until then, I'll keep pulling out the 2012 one, currently stuffed in the basket on the lower left, and getting frustrated that it still doesn't show the right date.
• My fancy, black Organizer I bought to keep track of Running-related stuff : upcoming race promotions, contacts, Running Club activities, etc. I dutifully filled in pertinent information for about four days. After that, I started stuffing receipts, scraps of paper, and lists in and out of every couple (sadly) blank pages. I still carry it around and will continue to use it. I feel it makes me look immensely cool and important.
• A plastic nose

Pretty sure it's part of these glasses. If not, someone has some 'splaining to do

 

• A teeny, tiny cow with a teeny tiny suction cup. I'm not sure how it ended up there, but I like it.
• 1,415 other random items

You can't see the monitors but I can guarantee one of them would show the predicted weather for Sunday, December 16th, in Jacksonville Florida. must.stop.obsessing.


Other than random body parts or farm animals, what do you have on your desk?



Heavenly Eleven(ly)

I'm feeling a bit "off", during this taper week. Trying not to use it as an excuse, but my posts may be a bit "off", as well. I think it's a combo of limited running and trying to not be nervous about the upcoming marathon.

Today's Topic : Healthy Food Doesn't Have to be Disgusting : I like to promote a feeling of positivity on this blog. However, I also feel it's my duty to prevent the trauma that inflicted The Husband and I, on this past Sunday.

I bought a new kind of healthy snack/protein bar for my hungry man to try. The local Health Foods store had them on sale, so I grabbed a flavor I thought he'd like. He took a long, miserable bite...and then another. When he reported how god-awful it was, I thought he was just being overly picky.

Then I tasted it.

If you're wanting to know what it tastes like to have someone or something die and rot in your mouth, please try these treats!

Someone from their promotions department should be contacting me any minute, now!

just enough to wash the taste away

 

Including bars, there are a plethora of healthy food options for runners and non-runners, alike. Please don't ever sacrifice good taste when trying to make good food choices. If you're ever in doubt, send me an email and I can suggest a healthy option for whatever you're craving, at that time. I just won't be able to actually provide the product.

 

We imaginary internet friends do have limits.

 

Today's Share: Lisa is another blogger I felt instantly connected to. While I generally end up reading only the most recent posts of the blogs I follow, I actually went back and read quite a few of her archived entries. I liked her humor, stories and way with words that much. Someday, the stars will align and we'll pace each other in a race. (she just doesn't know it, yet)

 

not quite Elf Material, yet. Better luck next year, guys...

 

 

Have you recently tried anything that surprised you with its taste?

 

Do your loved ones do their best to look as ridiculous as possible when you try to photograph them?



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day Ten

Double Digits of Adventrageous! Woohoo! We are moving right along. If anyone says "you're almost there!", Misguided Race Spectator-style, they'll get punched in the ear.
 

Today's Topic : Ten Reasons I Run. I actually keep a running (harhar!) list, in my journal. These are just a handful, in no particular order.

•  I run so I can eat ice cream. Every day, if I feel so inclined.

hello, yummy friend!

• I run to make up for all the years I didn't.

Remedying this problem for our future generations by starting the boys out early

•  I run so I can later drive down that same stretch of the road and think "I ran that". Weird? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
• I run so I can feel like a real athlete. My lack of grace, skill, strength or natural talent in any other physical arena kinda limits me. It's cool, though, because I can run. I can even run for hours on end! Without passing out or vomiting!
• I run to clear my thoughts. You have no idea what intricate problems I can solve during my runs. Or, more often, what mind-boggling thoughts I can completely tune out during the time I'm smacking my feet on the pavement. Either way, it provides great benefits.
• I run to clear my sinuses. It's true! It's a great cure for a stuffy nose.
• I run for friends and family who want to and can't.

we all know someone's who has been here...or worse

 

• I run to stay in shape for racing. That may seem like double-dipping, but the two don't always go hand-in-hand. I love running. I love racing. I want to be able to do both for a very long time.

check out that blurry, heel-striking, happy lady!

• I run to show my boys how cool it is to have a hobby or passion that is also good for your health and well-being. Video Gaming just doesn't stand up to running, in those areas.
• I run to maintain my sanity. 

Today's share : Just in case I'm not the last person to stumble on this fun read, I thought I'd pass it on. I check it every now and then and get a little creeped out. It's like the contributors read my mind!

 

Tell me a reason you run :

 

Not a runner? Why the heck not?