Chronicles of a Runner Wanna-Be

Survived the Plague...

2012-02-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

Okay, I wasn't expecting that.

I wasn't expecting to be down and out for days on end... coughing up a lung and other assorted crap, snorting and gasping for air through plugged up nasal passages, and feeling like I was about to pass out if I held my head up for too long. I wasn't expecting to be croaking like a dyin' frog when I tried to speak, or almost requiring hearing aids because my Eustachian tubes were sealed tight from swelling. If you watched the movie Contagion you probably get the general idea. I was beginning to wonder whether some mutant super-virus had come to claim me. This was it; the end. I was going to die from suffocation by phlegm and mucus. What a glorious way to go.

But over a week later and thanks to the nasty practice of neti pot flushing, I can actually breathe and I don't feel like I'm about to keel over. Slowly but surely I can feel energy seeping back into my body. Maybe I won't die after all.

Running? Ha! What's that? It feels like ages since I last attempted it. Just thinking about the extra oxygen required left me out of breath. Therefore I am QUITE BEHIND on the marathon training schedule... completely and totally missed the 20 miler this past weekend, and am doing my very best just to get myself psyched up for the shorter distances I need for the week. Although it's my nature to be "Downer Debbie" about all of this, I'm trying my VERY BEST to let it go. As if I had any control over the situation!! Move along, move along.

Speaking of moving along, life goes on despite the attack of the killer phlegm bug.

Snippets from "My Instagram Life":

Sweet picture of Girl Scientist #1 giving the Man some sugar.

The Boy wanted me to spend $7 on these glasses for him. That was a big NO.

Celebrating making Honor Roll.

Too young for Honor Roll, but a great report card nonetheless.

Driving to Richmond for a volleyball tournament and I was feeling creative; rather, I was feeling bored.

Lost in Scrabble to my 12 year old Boy. Now I'm really starting to feel old.

Our Egyptian princess performs in the very popular "Temples and Tombs" production to a "sell out" crowd.

One of my patients last night... a stray kitten found on the street. Who says the homeless are straggly and ugly? What a beauty.

And some other interesting updates:

1) I will be turning 42 in a couple of days and guess what I got as a special gift? An absolutely HUGE zit on my face, right smack on the cheek. Not the kind that goes away with a lil' dab of Clearasil, mind you. The deep, boil kind that will leave a big red mark on my face for weeks. The irony of it all is that I haven't broken out in... well, years. So the timing is a bit ridiculous. Wrinkles and zits. They go together like Laurel and Hardy.

2) I had the honor and the privilege of having not one but BOTH of my Christmas presents I purchased for my mother returned to ME as re-gifts. As in, she gave them back to me for me to "keep for myself." Not exactly shocking behavior on her part necessarily... but it stung anyway. Of course she meant well (I guess) but gifting etiquette has been seriously compromised. Just sayin'... I spent days looking for those "special somethings" and was so proud of myself. Oh well. Merry Christmas to me.

3) Speaking of gifts, I thought of might be a great fantasy birthday gift list (not including the nice earrings and scarf intended for my mother). It might include:

* an all expense paid trip to Scotland/Ireland to include tours of castles and lots of pubs

* a device to waterproof my iPod so I can listen to it while swimming

* my own private volleyball lessons

* an "all you can buy" gift card from Athleta, Title Nine, or Prana

* a private photography coach who will attend volleyball tournaments with me and show me EXACTLY how to set my camera to get the crisp action shots

* daily professional massages for a month... hell, make that 3 months

* a maid. Forever. Amen.

Realistically, a nice evening out is fine. And not too late. I'm sleepy.

Cooties and Perspective

2012-02-03T06:55:00.000-08:00

Saw this post on Facebook this morning and just had to re-post. Pretty fitting, huh?

Well, so much for my theory that as long as I keep running, I will stave off the horrible pathogens that threaten me. While it's true that since I became a runner, I have had exponentially better immunity and have successfully fought off all sorts of creepy cooties... I am here this morning on day two of a doozy of a bug. My throat feels like shredded, raw meat and I'm coughing up my right lung. All of my energy is zapped, and I can't even find enough ooomph to walk the dog let alone go on a run. My muscles ache, especially in my back and I feel like I could fall asleep standing up. What. A. Bummer.

I almost forgot what it feels like it's been so long since I've a had a REAL nasty bug.

So as I crawled back into bed this morning after the school prep rush, I started thinking about what it's like for people with chronic, ongoing conditions (pain, Lyme, cancer, other numerous physical disabilities) and I just felt a huge sense of compassion. I am fortunate enough that almost every day I wake up I have good health and strength. The moment that is temporarily stripped from me, it feels devastating. I find it pathetic that the first thought that came into my brain was "I'll be set back in my marathon training." A few minutes later I took a moment to gain perspective. This is nothing in the big scheme of things. And I know it deep inside, so this is yet another exercise in letting go of what I cannot control, and try to stay positive.

I also got an encouraging email from my running coach. I told him I was going to try to go for 20 on Sunday, by myself, if I could... and he told me to consider just letting my body recover this weekend, and that's completely and totally okay. He pointed out that if I don't make the 20 because I wasn't fully recovered, that could be more harmful psychologically. Go for 5-6 and be content. Another reason to be completely and totally grateful I joined Team in Training. Just having someone with experience throw in their good advice when you're in a pickle about what to do can mean everything.

So here's to those out there who fight through the physical (and psychological) obstacles!! Those who are happy with the effort, not necessarily the actual result. Those who don't focus on the negative, but look for the good side of everything. Those that accept what cannot be controlled and make the best of it.

So I will stop whining, rest up, drink my tea, and continue feeling grateful... it's just a bug.

Uncontrolled Chaos

2012-02-01T08:07:00.000-08:00

Shooooooo-eeeeee it's been a long while since posting. Only 3 posts in the 31 days of January. One might think I'm on vacation or hiding underneath a rock. Wish that I could use those excuses for my apathy, but the simple fact is I really didn't have the motivation to write. Usually I can come up with something to say about the daily grind, but I really have come up empty lately. When I think about what draws me back to a blog, I usually think about the funny, witty ones. Truth be told, I haven't had a good laugh in a long while. It's about time to go searching for the lighter side of things.

We've been busy. The kind of busy that leaves you ridiculously drained at the end of the day... so much so that the bed with all of its pillows and blankies becomes a zone of virtual paradise. I literally can't wait to shut my eyes every night. 9 o'clock rolls around and the body just shuts down. And then morning comes again and I feel a sense of almost dread. Another day of full steam ahead. Ugh.

Our days are filled with appointments, kids with emotional insecurities, sports practices, shopping for our meals, the dry cleaners, the counselors, tutoring sessions, league volleyball, league soccer, running (literally), hours at work, laundry, and now this...

My house looks like an awful episode from "Hoarders"... as we had to empty 4 bedrooms (and all of the closet contents) and a loft of all while 50% of our house is recarpeted. To save some money (actually it was quite a bit) my hubs and BIL moved all of the crap out themselves and pulled up the nasty 14 year old carpet. What. A. Nightmare.

For anyone that truly knows me, they can attest to the fact that I'm a bit of a stress freak. And if you turn my life upside down and disorganize me any more than I'm already disorganized, I tend to lose it. So when the kids underwear is moved to some back corner of a bathroom underneath 5 stacked boxes and is completely inaccessible and I have 3 wailing rugrats going "Where's this?? Where's THAT???" I start to come unglued with frustration. I can't take the chaos. Three days of utter CHAOS.

It reminds me yet again that I have one major goal in my lifetime... and that is to keep the mantras going about what's truly important. It's not access to underwear. Even though that IS important. It's to take things in stride, accept the obstacles, remember that there are worse situations, yada, yada, yada.

And be better prepared!!!

In the midst of all of this craziness, I have tried to make running a priority. After skipping almost all of my training runs the week before last I went on that 18 miler and fell apart at mile 16 while K-Boy went on to finish without me. I was so grumpy about it and disgusted with myself that I let everything go the week before. So I promised myself that the following week I would make no excuses. And I didn't. I did every prescribed distance during the week and when it came time to do my 19 miler on Saturday, I was determined to finish... pain or not. I accepted the fact that I would be alone since K-Boy was out of town but quite fortunately for me I had a buddy for the first 8 miles and our chatting really helped me out.

The trail, however, was an absolute nightmare. It was chock full of runners doing a distance series race and completely laden with ankle deep mud. I almost face planted twice as I tripped over protruding roots in the last half of my run. The first trip was horrific; I jammed my left big toe into the root with too much force and it brought back that searing toe pain I had controlled pretty well thus far. Tears flowed out of my eyes but I kept going. I finished 19.6 miles with about a 9:05 pace. There was nothing pretty about it, and I even had to stop to use the restroom (I hate that but I had to) but I can say I FINISHED.

I feel like an old woman and I ache all over, but I'm plugging along. After a discussion with my coach, a goal of 4:00 or less might be a bit of a challenge at this stage, but I will do my best without pushing myself toward an injury. It's great to dream and have lofty goals, but a bit o' realism needs to come into play here before I blow out a knee.

As far as my fundraising for the Leukemia Society, I'm only about $100 short of my goal with a little over a month left and I think (*I hope*) I'll make it. I really don't like asking people for money and it's excruciatingly hard for me but... I believe in the cause and have thoroughly enjoyed being part of such a motivational group. In a way I'd felt like maybe I'd found my calling. I imagined that I could somehow stay involved as a mentor or even a coach at some point for beginners. But the big reason I joined this effort is to honor my cousin and his family. Sometimes, in my zeal for reaching my goal, I forget how painful it is for them to see reminders of their loss. It was brought to my attention when one of my Facebook posts about TNT fundraising offended my aunt and caused her pain. It's a fine line to walk... sometimes I feel like I don't know what to say or what I should do. I need to put it out there, and do what I can to raise awareness if we're going to fight this disease and find a cure. But I'm well aware we didn't have a cure when we needed it... and that fact alone causes sheer pain and anguish.

More than ever I realize that I MUST be myself and be okay with that. I have to accept that the things I do or the type of person I am will not sit well with everyone. I am a human being, therefore I will disappoint someone out there. For most of my life I have felt inadequate and substandard. It's because I told myself that I need everyone's approval in order to approve of myself. That is a battle that can never be won. At some point, we have to come to terms with the unique individuals we are. Again, I am reminded of one of the Four Agreements: Always do your best and you will be at peace. If you do something with the best of intentions, you cannot be filled with regret. One can spend their whole life questioning everything, and trying their hardest to please those that cannot be pleased. It isn't about me, so I can't become so self-centered enough to personalize it. Just put the best foot forward and not be afraid. If there are consequences to my actions, they will happen anyway. One day I will have to believe in myself and be at peace.

So as I type the carpet's going in and the whole house smells like a hot glue gun. Soon I'll have my house back, and I hope my sanity, too!

A Trophy, A Purple Finger, and an Olympic Gold Medal Too

2012-01-21T13:17:00.000-08:00

It's been a long while since my last post. I'd actually gone back to the idea of quitting the blog. I was pretty stressed out the past week or two and just didn't have it in me. But I'm trying to fight through this latest motivational slump and I figured writing might just be what I need to shake it off.

A few noteworthy things have happened in the past couple of weeks:

1) Girl Scientist #1 (aka Volleygirl)'s volleyball team won first place in their very first big tournament of the season. I daresay they blew their competition away and it was very exciting to behold. The girls have come a loooooong way from where they were last season. It's like they just get it. They didn't lose one set the entire tournament. Incredible.

I had fun taking pictures of them and playing around with my new lens I got for Christmas. This was my favorite shot of the team, although the big lens shadowed out the flash on the girl on the bottom. I don't have Photoshop and I couldn't fix it with my software, which is a complete and total bummer since I love the photo so much.

The Champions in a team huddle.

Bringing home the bling.

2) I played volleyball too and jammed my finger into my own damn teammate. We were both in ball hog mode and wanted to return a hard driven ball and went for it at the same time. Note to self: Let the 6'5, 200 pound man take the ball... because in a collision you will lose every time. My finger swelled to the size of a big ol' sausage and turned about 5 different shades of purple. Hope the Man and I stay married forever because I will never get my wedding rings off... ever.

3) Still on the volleyball subject... superstar Kerri Walsh came to Virginia Beach and conducted a three hour clinic for our girls.

You know Kerri Walsh, right? The two time Olympic gold medalist in two man beach volleyball, of course! She and her partner Misty May-Treanor are icons in the sport we love and it was so cool to see her in person!

Kerri in the 2008 Olympics

You really have to be in awe over how she gave all of the girls personal attention and recognition. She told my little Scientist she was beautiful and I can tell you that single remark will probably stay with her forever and make her shine bright from within. It's one thing to hear it from an adoring parent. To hear it from a hero who is the BEST at the sport you love... well, WOW.

Kerri even brought her ACTUAL gold medal she won in Beijing for the girls to hold.

How's THAT for some serious BLING?

A total inspiration for the girls. Love it!

4) I didn't run for over 10 days. Don't know what to say. Just got myself in a funk. Worked extra hours, freaked out about the separation anxiety thing with Girl Scientist #2, felt tired, run-down, and totally zapped. BUT I got my rear end over to the group run this morning for what was supposed to be my 18 miler. Note to self: don't expect much when you haven't run in days and days. Kept up with K-Boy for 16 miles but the rain was coming down hard and my right knee was acting up. Had to walk the last two and he went on to finish his 18. I grumped as I walked back on my sore knee in the cold pouring rain.

I felt good and bad after the run. Good that I got 16 in, only 2 short of my goal. Bad that I was in pain and not prepared for it.

Next week will be different.

The Troughs with the Peaks

2012-01-10T06:17:00.000-08:00

A few days ago I had started a post about how awesome I was feeling with the running; just completed a 16.3 mile run on Saturday with TNT, and I really just felt this surge of confidence that I am right on track for where I want to be. I've also really made some great headway with my nutritional goals too... have been eating better than before and taking my supplements with regularity. So overall, I just felt awesome.

But on the homefront I'm dealing with an issue that is just tearing me apart and I'm truly in a bad place because of it. My youngest is dealing with what appears to be a pretty nasty case of separation anxiety disorder. After that stint of illness she had before Christmas, she had decided in her little mind that going back to school is just not happening. She just doesn't want to do it. She feigns stomach pain morning after morning. And after four visits to the doctor to determine she in fact has no true chronic medical condition, I am exhausted.

Every morning she cries hysterically and has what is equivalent to a 3-4 year old's temper tantrum. At almost 8 years old and 65 pounds, it's not the easiest thing in the world to deal with I assure you. The pediatrician stated simply that I had to force her through it. Kicking and screaming, whatever... she goes. So morning after morning she screams at me in desperation, then moves onto kicking and even hitting me, when I try to pick her big body up and carry her into the building.. or as today's case may be, on the bus.

The neighbors and the kids stared in horror as I carried her flailing body to the bus this morning. We were a spectacle... and the whole gamut of emotions are raging through my head: embarrassment, anguish, guilt, anger, horror, frustration. I am so tired of this. I can't do this every day. I'm not made for this. God didn't give me tools to keep it together for this. And of course I question whether I should have ever become a parent. If my child is growing up with such a sense of insecurity and fear, what kind of emotional environment am I surrounding her with?

So the tears fell from my eyes after I walked away from the bus where I left my child screaming and refusing to sit down. The kids were probably laughing at her. It just devastates me.

But I remind myself that people have dealt with FAR, FAR worse situations. Children with true ailments such as severe epilepsy, autism, cancer... you name it. I'm sure there are days when those parents feel like they just need a break or want to throw in the towel altogether. But they don't. They don't give up and keep going. Of course this is what I'll do too after I let my pathetic self-pity party end.

So this afternoon we will try to talk out some issues with a counselor, and go from there. And I will most likely take a blogging break while I try to take a deep breath and count to ten.

The Right Start

2012-01-04T07:10:00.000-08:00

Here is my first post of 2012, and it was the post that almost never was. Last night I had trouble falling asleep (darn Hokies and that blasted Sugar Bowl) and my mind went wandering, and when I was halfway to sleepy-land I decided my blog was stupid, time consuming, and non productive. And that I was done with it.

Earlier in the day I received an email from The Ragnar Relay coordinators. This email went out to everyone who participated in the D.C. Relay last year (was it really "last year"?) asking if anyone would be interested in becoming an ambassador for the race... in other words, you go out there and promote Ragnar through blogging, Facebooking, Twitter (whatever that is), etc, and they send you all this cool free gear that you wear to local races and everywhere. I read the email and thought: "How awesome! I could do that! I'm a runner freak, I have a blog, I'm on Facebook, I participate in a lot of the local races, and I loved the Ragnar experience... sign me up!"

So I downloaded the application and immediately I felt my heart sink when I read through the questions. How many tweets do I do in a day? Uh, none. What's a "Twitter"? How much readership does my blog get? Uh, well I get a comment once in a while. Oh... and my neighbor claimed he read it once!!! But that's readership, right? Even though he was making fun of me? How many Facebook friends do I have?? Runners or non-runners? I have quite a few friends who think my running is a mental disorder.

So... I kind of got bummed out about the whole thing, and when I mean the whole thing, I mean the blog too. I did not fill out the application.

But morning brings clarity as it always does and I reminded myself of WHY I am blogging. Sure, I'd like to share my journey from how I became a couch-potato-sad-sack to a freak marathoner with others that give a crap but it really is about the accountability this forum provides. If I put it out there, I'm not hiding. It provides that sense of pressure to finish the story. No one wants their story to be: "and she just stopped and gave up. The End." And so the story goes on, whether it's interesting, boring, or just plain stupid. Somehow, since I started writing about it, I stuck to it. Whatever works. So the blog stays for whatever it's worth.

So... if you happen to be reading this and you are a runner and looking for the next adventure, may I recommend The D.C. Ragnar Relay. It's not just another race; it's one of those bucket list adventures that you just have to experience to describe. It's more about the challenge and the interaction with your teammates than about your pace or finishing time. In a nutshell, it was a blast. Will I do it again? Yeah, I hope so.

So... this year (and let's hope the Mayans were wrong and that it isn't our last here on earth) has been off to a good start for me. I wanted to just stop letting excuses jump in my way and get to the business of training right for this marathon. I want SO MUCH for this to be a strong performance. I've proven to myself over the course of this past year that if I just STICK TO THE PLAN the results will happen. So I told myself: stop thinking about it, make the time, and get out there and do it. I'm a part of a team now with a very clear purpose. To raise money to fight blood cancer (and I really need to work harder on that part) and to run strong in honor of my cousin.

So last week I completely stuck to the plan Coach Bob provided. I ran a 4 mile tempo on Tuesday, a 7 miler on Wednesday, a 4 miler on Thursday, rested on Friday, and met the Team on Saturday (New Year's Eve) for our group long run. We all showed up at The Great Dismal Swamp Canal Trail in Chesapeake... an old road converted into a trail for runners and cyclists.

I was a little disappointed that my running buddy K-Boy was only going for 6 that morning while we had 14 on the schedule, but he decided to do this "Beat the Ball" race in Portsmouth that night so he wanted to conserve his energy, I guess. Seriously? Because he's like, twenty years old. Whatever.

So I was on my own after mile 3 when K-Boy turned back. The paved road was flat, straight, and kinda boring but for some reason I just felt good. I cranked my tunes, looked around at the canal, and just found a zone. Water and Gatorade was planted at every 2 miles by our coaches, and I made sure to stop and drink a bit each time. They "tut tut" you if you don't hydrate. I'm beginning to see their point. It helps. And the stars lined up and I just had a great run. I finished 14 miles in 2 hours and 4 minutes. I just felt awesome. Teammates were giving me high fives for turning it on at the end, which I did. My average pace was sub 9:00 so I was absolutely on top of the world.

On New Year's Day the fam including my sister and BIL decided to head for First Landing State Park. I needed a 4 mile recovery run and the boys wanted to get a run in period. What a gorgeous morning! Temps were ridiculously high for this time of year and the sun was shining.

Pretty sun sparkling trail.

It was so warm I cranked out the skort with no tights. January 1st? Seriously?

Okay, so wow that recovery run SUCKED. Guess turning on the jets at the end of a 14 miler makes your legs pay a dear price the next day. Ugh. I struggled with each stride and my right knee tweaked with pain. I made it to 3 miles and power walked the last mile. Whatever. I'm forty one years old. Things are gonna hurt.

This week the temperature has dropped a million degrees. Now it's the frozen Arctic outside, but I don't mind it!!! Ran a 5 miler yesterday with wind gusts numbing my cheeks (on my FACE). No wimpy treadmill for me! Keep the momentum!!! No excuses! (But the tights went back on).

Back to my resolution to keep up with the supplements...

Coach Bob gave us some Nuun tablets. Kinda excited about these because they have no artificial sugar:

And I'm powering through my glucosamine supplement aversion:

They look like Tootsie Rolls but taste worse. But I've been consistent for a week now. That's a record.

Oh yeah!! I'm supposed to be grateful!! Sooooooooo grateful to have Una dog in our home!!! She's a sweet, FABULOUS critter and she's making all of our hearts soar!!! Love. Love. Love.

For I am JUST a Cookie...

2011-12-29T06:06:00.000-08:00

Saw this photo on someone's Facebook page the other day and I just LOVED it:

Thought it was a perfect reminder that in fact WE are in charge of what our future holds. Well, to a certain extent anyway... I know we can't control everything. But we are more in control than we give ourselves credit for. We can't rely on the way the stars and planets line up, what images emerge in a crystal ball, or the words printed on a tiny slip of paper in a stale cookie. And we can't blame others or make excuses for the undesired outcome.

Nope, it is NOT the cookie's fault.

And this is a reminder to myself that usually it comes down to just making the decision I KNOW is right for me, and I know I just need to DO it. Sounds like a cheezy Nike commercial, but it's just true.

Having said all that, I have a million New Years resolutions. Here is the short list:

1) Absolutely no soda this year. Not a drop. It's bad for you and has a million useless calories.

2) Drink more water. Keep a glass of ice water by my side at all times.

3) Stretch every day. I lost so much flexibility this past year.

4) Take my joint supplements. I bought 2 packages of the chewies and I have NO EXCUSE not to take them.

5) Learn to meditate. Ugh. This one is so hard for me. I can NEVER clear my mind, not for a second.

6) Learn to let go and accept what is. This is a fine line for a mother, I know, but too many times I think I have a choke hold on my children, pushing them too hard... and I know (from my own experience) what a lifelong emotional toll that can take on a little human being. There's a difference between a parent who provides firm structure and one that expects too much.

7) Forgive myself for my shortcomings. I have so many, and all I can say is that I am aware of them and want to change them. I guess the first step is to not become sad or angry about it, but just accept that life is an evolution from the day we are born to the day we leave this world. I am open to this change.

8) Stay as organized as possible. Stick to the calendar, keep it updated, or things will spiral out of control and so will I.

9) Call my loved family members more often; make the time. This past year I have not made it a priority and it will become an enormous regret later if I don't change it now.

10) Walk Una every day. Good for her, good for me.

And the list will go on...

Run or Rant?

2011-12-28T05:54:00.000-08:00

So I mentioned the other day I started reading the blog People I Want to Punch in the Throat. Perhaps I should be a little worried that I am amused by someone's rants about other people... but let's face it... there are some FREAKS out there, and if they lived in isolation and never mingled with the "normal" people in society, then there'd be nothing to complain about. But the FREAKS continue to mingle so it gives the author lots of subject matter, and it IS kind of funny.

Not to steal anyone's unique idea (and I won't), but lately I've considered renaming this blog "People I Want to Slap Upside the Head," because lately I've had too much exposure to those FREAKS. They seem to be crawling out of the woodwork like termites all around me, and since stress has brought my tolerance level to a minimum, I feel myself reacting to them instead of ignoring them (see my last two posts about evil and stupid pet owners).

Just when I thought I'd washed my hands of the madness and was decompressing, another termite emerged out of the woodwork yesterday, and sent me reaching for that can of super toxic bug spray.

So, I was mindlessly taking out the trash yesterday when I heard the most awful string of screaming profanities coming out of a neighbor's driveway. A workman of some sort had his truck parked there and he was screaming at someone and I couldn't help but stare in disbelief: "You f@#$ing sh$%!!! GET UP!!!! I'm gonna knock you OUT!!! etc etc etc!!" As I looked closer, I saw a shepherd dog crouched by the door in terror, ears flat and eyes wide. He couldn't move because he was so afraid, and because he wouldn't move the man screamed and threatened louder. Now I did not see the man strike/hit/touch the dog, but his voice and tone were so scary that I was afraid of what would happen next.

And then my horror turned into anger. I took a deep breath, and in my threatening moon and stars robe and my plaid pajama bottoms I marched over there and said: "Hey!!! Please stop yelling at your dog like that!!"

The man, already in a fury, turned on me and screamed: "I can say whatever the hell I want to my own damn dog!!! I never touched him!!! He just vomited everywhere in my car!! Mind your own damn business!!!"

Startled and a bit scared by his reaction, I couldn't help myself: "He couldn't help vomiting!!! And I don't appreciate the profanity!!! Get a GRIP!!!"

"Well, I apologize for the profanity! But this is MY dog and I can say whatever I want to him!!!"

I stomped away, came inside and sat down, shaking and on the verge of tears. I went through my options. Call the cops? Call Animal Control? Nah, I had no grounds, really. He did not strike the animal. But Lord, if he had, I'd have had Animal Control out there in a millisecond. In my book it's still abuse, anyway. The look of terror on that animal's face said it all. I wanted to strangle that man, and take that poor dog out of there, but... instead I will just wring my hands and complain about the evilness of some people.

I only have one more thing to say about it: if you've gotten to a point in your life that you are verbally threatening an innocent creature for doing something it had absolutely no control over, then you are one sick bastard and need some serious therapy and anger management classes. And don't be a pet owner!! Bastard!!

Okay, enough before I sign myself up for anger management classes, too (which may actually be a good idea at this point). The Man and some friends were a *bit* concerned that I confronted a "crazypants." They have a point.

So all of this made me think of my poor dog, of course. I miss my Fritzy boy so much it hurts. I wanted to come inside after reprimanding that man and give Fritz a hug but he wasn't here. Oh Fritz, I miss you so much.

But our family has some wonderful news. Tomorrow (yes, tomorrow!!!) this young lady is coming to stay with us!!!!...

Una Buna Boo.

This is Una, my daddy's (Mexican) Scottish Terrier and we've all agreed that maybe it would be a good situation for her to live here with us. My dad is retired and they like to travel, and even though I know they love her to the moon and back, dogs are quite demanding. We're home most of the time and the kids should keep her hopping. This way she stays in the family. I just can't wait. I just cannot wait to have her here with us!!!

*Sigh*.

Back to running. No, I'm not changing my blog to "People I Want to Slap Upside the Head." I really DO want to focus on my running and training.

So I RAN yesterday!! It was on the treadmill, but I just had to wimp out because it was pouring rain outside... so I tried to make it useful by turning it into a tempo run. I got through it!!! I was worried there for a little bit around mile 2.5... I get this queasy feeling on that darn rat wheel and I usually want to jump off after about 20 minutes... but I forced myself through it by continuing to bring the pace down. Wooohooo! 5 miles in 43 min! I felt awesome afterwards!

7 miler today outside in the sunshine... and hopefully I do not run into a single termite...

'Tis the Season for Resolution

2011-12-27T07:54:00.000-08:00

So, for anyone who bothers to read this, hope your holiday was wonderful... whatever you celebrate. Our Christmas morning was packed full of indulgence... the Scientists had so many gifts to open that we had to take a break and eat for refueling in the middle of the unwrapping process. Now THAT is craziness. Who does that? We are a very blessed family. And we better never forget it.

So last week it was pretty obvious that stress was eating me up alive and I just let it get to me. I was turning into that cynical, bitter person who looks at everything around me with disgust and frustration, when in reality I was feeling those things about myself. I kept trying to find some Zen and all I could come up with was the desire to strangle someone. Not exactly the Christmas spirit, eh? And the funny part is, when I got enough time to recollect myself and step away from it, I realized I had no good reason for it. Just need to relax a little more and accept the fact that occasionally it's okay to say that I can't manage it all. That I have limitations. That I'm not good at certain things. And it's not the end of the world. The sun will rise again. Let it go. And I have a plan to help me achieve that goal.

So it's time again to reflect back on a great year and look forward to the next one.

What a fabulous year it's been for my running. I really put the training in and it paid off with a series of PR's for every distance I entered... 5K, 10K, 14K, Half and Full Marathons. I feel so pleased about the fact that I showed myself it was all possible with a bit more discipline.

I had so much fun getting out of the box and running an overnight ultra distance relay race with friends. It was an experience like no other, and probably my favorite running event I've done to date. And here I thought my running was such a solo activity. To share in the achievement with others, especially friends, was a feeling I just can't describe in words. The adrenaline rush lasted for days...weeks, even. I hope to do it again sometime. But since I'm such a stress freak I may not opt to be the team leader. Someone with a very organized yet more laid-back personality needs to volunteer themselves.

Probably one of the more meaningful things that I have done with my running is joining the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training. I have really looked forward to our weekly group runs, and sharing a meaningful goal of raising money to fight blood cancer and honor my cousin's memory. It just puts meaning behind each stride besides the feeling of self-accomplishment, and again, I cannot describe that feeling in words. I've even considered staying involved with the group in any way I can after the marathon. We'll see how the next couple of months go, and where it takes me.

So I cannot tell a lie; I haven't run a single step in over a week. I could go on and on about how guilty I feel that I wasn't strong enough to overcome my stress and lack of motivation... but wallowing in self pity is as non productive as climbing back into bed and giving up totally. I may feel like I've just set myself back light years in my training program, but I know that isn't true and I just need to shake off the blah's and pick myself back up and get back on track. It's as simple as that when it comes down to it.

Feeling grateful?? Yep... today I am feeling pretty thankful that I have not come down with any of the nasty cooties that EVERYONE seems to be coming down with around me. They're dropping like flies one by one around me yet I am still standing. Here's to good health. Better get back out there and do my run because I KNOW the running has improved my immunity.

'Tis the season for resolutions... and I have a huge list of 'em for this year, and I'll continue to remind myself of them as often as I can in hopes I will pressure myself to keep myself in line.

One of my goals is to keep it simple, by minimizing the junk. Excess crap stresses me out and then I lose it. Take, for example, that we just introduced a whole truckload of stuff into this house. There's crap everywhere... because the kids literally have no space in their closets for the incoming "junk." So we are developing a strict "for every in, there's an out" rule. So the Scientists have chosen items that they will give up in order to keep their new item. And we will donate the given up items to our local orphanage.

Off to run a 5 miler... back in business!!!

Thou Shalt Not Judge

2011-12-22T18:18:00.000-08:00

Okay yesterday's post was over the top and I knew as soon as I typed it I'd regret it. This is what happens to me when I don't run. I lose my mind. For those who know the common saying "running is cheaper than therapy" I am here to tell you that it's true. I need to keep up or I'll go insane.

But it just wasn't meant to be today. The insanity continues. Ended up back in the urgent care facility bright and early this morning with another sick child, holding her down with all of my body weight while she was shrieking "I am gonna DIE!!! I am gonna DIE!!!" as my wonder-ace phlebotomist hit his second target from my brood of little chickens.

Diagnosis: Bronchitis. Nebulization. Antibiotics. A day at home with the Man.

Then it was off to work for a zillion hours.

So, every year I tell myself the same exact thing. I will not judge people that seem incredibly stupid to me. I will not make mean, sarcastic comments about them to my co-workers behind closed doors. I will not do this because I believe in karma and the powers that be. Evil thoughts and comments bring about evil luck. Yada yada yada.

And then... someone stupid walks in. And the whole thing goes south in a heartbeat.

So today a youngish and very tatted couple bring in a new Husky puppy that they just purchased from a pet store for a million dollars... financed. They have trouble making eye contact with me as I introduce myself. The lady is a grump and does not acknowledge my introduction. The man stares at one of his tattoos as he tries to answer my questions.

Me: So how's "Maverick" doing?

Tat Man: Fine, I guess.

Me: Is he eating well?

Tat Man: I guess. He eats from one of those self feeder "thingies."

Me: Well, it's better to feed him measured portions so you know he's not getting too much or too little.

(Man stares down at tattoo while grump lady shrugs and eye rolls).

Me: So... how are his stools?

Tat Man: Excuse me?

Me: Stools? Bowel movements????

(blank stares)

Me: POO???? Does he POO???

Tat Man: Oh yeah, he poos.

Me (deep sighs): Does he have DIARRHEA?

Tat Man: I don't think so.

With increasing annoyance I go over pup's needs. Shots, parasite prevention, all of it. I mention that topical flea and tick control is highly recommended. That's when grump lady pipes in with a very condescending tone...

Grump Lady: We have FIVE children at home and another one on the way! No WAY am I putting nasty chemicals on my dog!

Me: Not to be smart mouthed, but look at that over-sized flea collar you put on your puppy's neck. That has more dangerous chemicals for your family than the product I am proposing. Not to mention it's pretty darn ineffective.

(eye rolls)

Me: And speaking of parasites, since you have such young children you should really start your puppy on internal parasite prevention. There are a couple of parasites that can infect human children. One dose for this month is about $7, and it will cover him for a month. You can get another dose when he comes in for his vaccine next month.

Grump Lady: I don't have seven dollars. (Turning to Tat Man) You got 7 bucks??

Tat Man: Nah. We're gonna pass on that. We're gonna take him to that place where we can get his shots for cheap.

Me: Well, then you all ski-daddle and have a great holiday, okay??? Good luck with Maverick!!!

And I walked out the door with a fake smile on my face and threw my pen on the desk in exasperation.

I wanted to SCREAM:

1) You have FIVE... no, make that SIX children (I shudder at the very thought of this) and you decided to finance a puppy from a PET STORE???????

2) You don't have SEVEN DOLLARS to buy him a month's worth of parasite prevention?????? Even after I told you your kids were at risk?????

3) You acted QUITE RIGHTEOUS about not putting "harmful chemicals" on your pet for your kids protection yet you had a harsh insecticide collar on your puppy's neck and you can't afford to buy a SINGLE dose of parasite prevention for the sake of your pup and the kids?????? I can't quite tell if this is sheer hypocrisy or pure STUPIDITY.

4) You have FIVE.. no make that SIX kids and you don't know the term BOWEL MOVEMENT????

5) Exactly how much did you spend on all those tattoos? More than SEVEN DOLLARS, I'd wager!!!!

AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! God help me!!!!

So much for my "Thou Shalt Not Judge" idea.

Thank goodness there was a bottle of wine with a big bow on it sitting on my desk before I left for home.

See, some of my clients are really, really SMART.

The Psycho Evil Twin is Back

2011-12-21T07:27:00.000-08:00

I have a zillion fun pictures to post from the weekend... shots of us singing Christmas carols to unsuspecting neighbors (and even adding a Rockettes-like performance that solicited an encore request), and glimpses at our dozens and dozens of cookies we lovingly baked in our annual holiday "Cookie-a-thon" that I hosted at our kitchen this year. All of these things are wonderful, and should give me great reason to be chipper and full of Christmas cheer.

Unfortunately, for reasons I have trouble explaining to myself, I feel more like the lady who writes the punch people in the throat blog, or that mean lady who came into the clinic the other day and chewed me a new one. I feel like my EVIL TWIN has taken over. Maybe the mean lady was contagious with a vicious "fury" virus and breathed it on me, or karma is working out in the mysterious ways that it does... or MAYBE, just maybe, I am just stressed out and angry because I just can't find a way to make it all go away.

Every once in a while I feel overwhelmingly selfish and just want to hide under a rock for a while until the buzzing in my head stops. Sounds a little creepy... buzzing. But that's the best way that I can describe it. Too much going on, too many things to do, and I feel frozen. Instead of organizing my to-do list and going into crazy-productive mode I curl up in a ball and do mindless things like blogging. It's so weird. I can't explain why. I really hate that about myself. I'm jealous of people who clear their heads, keep their focus, dutifully complete all of their tasks and have a smile on their face all the while. Not a care in the world. It's all good, right?

Bah, humbug.

I know... what happened to the grateful thing? Well, I'm still grateful about things even though I'm in a sour mood. I'm grateful to be alone for a little while this morning so I will refrain from snapping at or decapitating anyone. I'm grateful for good tasting coffee and Tracey's coconut cream cheese cookies. I'm grateful the Boy is back to hugging me after days of giving me attitude about his computer video game privileges. I think he realizes I'm on edge... he probably senses it's best not to mess with me right now. The Man has not fared so well. In the line of fire. BANG!

I need so much to get out there and run, but I'm too angry and too stressed to break through that motivational wall and make it happen. I don't know what to say. Maybe I can just blame all of this on hormones and call it a day.

Some people are unapologetic about their bitchy moods. No remorse. It is what it is. Take the bad with the good, buddy, because we all have our crappy days.

Unfortunately, I hate my evil twin and I feel I need to apologize for her existence. Every time she emerges, the weight hangs heavy around my neck and I try to think of how I can make her go away permanently.

Which brings me to the goal part of the post. It would be easy to say "I just won't behave like that." But I think we all know that our behaviors sometimes are reflexic, and need to be conditioned out of us with time, persistence, and discipline. The root of all of this is my response to stress, and why again am I stressed?

The answer is pretty simple, as it is for most women. WE EXPECT SO MUCH OF OURSELVES. We're constantly comparing ourselves to others... she can do it all. No, she can't. No, I can't.

Last night I caught myself having totally ridiculous thoughts. We were watching a TV show, and the main character had a falling out with his girlfriend (who is a sweet, loving mother) and decides to take up with some Playboy sexpot chick who's throwing herself at him. I'm all disgusted. This lady is Miss-I-Want-You-All-The-Time and I hate her for being that way. I want to throw up by the end of the show as they flash from the abandoned girl sitting with her kids all alone to the bedroom where the guy's with Miss Thang doing you know what. I wanted to hurl my shoe at the TV and scream "BASTARD!!"

Meanwhile, my Man, who literally dozes off with EVERY episode is wide awake and smiling. He turns to me and says, "Wow, that was GOOD." He's just all about this, giggling and thinking this whole situation is awesome. I look at him and want to gouge his eyes out. Seriously?!?!? Or you're awake now, aren't ya?

Now I realize this is just a TV show and what person in their right mind should allow pure fiction to translate into real life? Well, since I am stressed I have an inappropriate string of thoughts. Man likes Miss Thang. Man wishes I was Miss Thang. Man wishes he had his own Miss Thang around instead of a bitchy stressed out baggy pajama wearing freak like me. Man approves of the main character's behavior because what man in his right mind wouldn't??

Needless to say I was ticked off. Lord knows, I shouldn't be, because that's completely and totally psycho, but I wanted to punch him in the throat. Because he was wide awake. Because he was smiling and giggling at the cheater and his new ho girl. Because I am not Miss Thang. Because I am not ready for Christmas. Because I haven't run in three days. Because I am bloated and the kitchen is a mess.

Needless to say, no one was giggling or smiling after our final conversation of the evening.

This morning... after my third cup of coffee and after a tiny bit of rational thought has crept into my head I decided Miss Thang has her own set of problems. First of all, sexually transmitted diseases are not all that fun I hear. She gets PMS like all of us I'm sure and will be on the rag soon. And if I'm reading into the foreshadowing messages the screenwriters seem to be sending I think she's actually more psycho than me. Miss Thang is going down.

There's always an upside to everything. Gotta be grateful for the upsides.

The Dreaded Holiday Newsletter

2011-12-17T13:30:00.000-08:00

I don't know how I came upon it (probably a Facebook post, as usual) but somehow I found myself reading a few posts on the blog People I Want to Punch in the Throat. The first post I read was about people who send out those wonderful annual holiday letters with tireless summaries about each family member and their accomplishments. You know you've received them. The author gave a hilarious example of the typical letter content:

Dear Friends and Family,

We are so blessed to have you in our lives. Merry CHRISTmas Everyone! Our children, Margaret (a precocious 9) and Hank (13 already??) continue to dominate the honor roll with straight As, perfect attendance, and Hank was voted Best Hair again for 2010 while Margaret held on to her Nicest Smile crown. This year we had some time to do a little traveling and managed to squeeze in a cruise to Alaska, a trip to Hawaii, we backpacked through Europe and then a mission trip with our mega church to build homes in a village in Belize (the best trip EVER). Ken got that big promotion at work he's been trying for and that afforded us the opportunity to buy Barbie....the 2011 Honda Odyssey completely decked out! Woot! When Barbie's not chauffeuring the kids (and 20 of their closest friends and teammates) to their bazillion and one activities, she loves, loves, loves her Bunko slash Wine group and training Mr. Boots (our award-winning Field Spaniel) for the upcoming Tri-County Dog Show. Mr. Boots had a cold last year so he didn't place, but Barbie is working hard to get him back in competing shape. We know he can do it! This is the time of the year that we are so thankful for our friends and family. We send you our best wishes for a New Year! Don't forget to look us up if you come to town. We'd love to host you in our home or our lake house or our ski chalet - we love company!

Yeah, I was laughing, too. Sadly, however, I was an author of many of these types of letters myself back in the "day." It got to a point a few years ago that I decided handwriting Christmas cards with updates on all of our highlights of the year was virtually impossible. Perhaps if I was quarantined to a jail cell in the remote wilds of China for a month with just a desk, a pen, paper, and my address book, I could pull it off.

But with the miraculous inventions of email and social networks like Facebook, most of the people that actually CARE about how we're doing already know. They've read my emails, seen my online photo albums, perused through my blog posts, and checked my occasional Facebook updates. The people that WANT to know how we are probably know even MORE than they should.

So... no holiday greeting letter from us. The Man used to HATE when I would write them. He'd roll his eyes when I'd type about hard he works and how he's obsessed with volleyball. That the kids were doing great in school and their respective sports. "No one cares about that stuff," he would say. But I had to be one of those Ultra Competitive Moms. I had to share all of our greatest accomplishments. Now I realize everyone really does just want to roll their eyes. Kinda like when I post that I've just run 26.2 miles. The first time it was noteworthy. The second time was old news and I was just a show off. Then the third time I became a freak. Non-runners just ignore me and don't want to hear another peep about it.

Speaking of running (oh yeah, that's what this blog is about)... I had a real crappy training week (I'm not going into THAT gain), so I was nervous about my group long run with my Team in Training buds. But that's the miracle of agreeing to run with others. It's harder to make excuses and you show up to save face and then suddenly you realize you did it! I've done so much training on my own the past few months I forgot what it was like to have the extra incentive you get when you run with someone else.

With Shannon a world away in Hawaii, I was wondering if I could find another person with a similar pace and goals to do long runs with. My questions were answered after the second group run.

The only other "freak" in our TNT group doing the full marathon in March is this young, twenty-something dude who, oh-by-the-way-is-a-triathlon-coach. The first group run I found myself keeping up with him. By the second run we ran the second half of the run together, and this time we just ran the whole thing together, because I told him if I could hang with him, I'm sure I could reach my goal. I probably slowed him down but he was just too gentleman-like to say so.

I was a bit sluggish but the convo really kept me alive. "K-Boy" (I call him this because I don't know if he would appreciate his name showing up in an obscure blog without his consent, and "Boy" because had I been a knocked up as a 17 year old I could easily be his mother) is a recent graduate of my beloved alma mater, Virginia Tech. I am grateful (or appreciative, whatever word one should use) that he has accepted me as his old lady shadow.

We ran 13.3 miles in 2 hours and 2 minutes on the soggy trail. Not bad for a lady who's got to use wrinkle cream!

My goal for this week is to actually get the training runs in. Somehow. Some way. So help me God.

She's So Full of Crap!

2011-12-16T12:33:00.000-08:00

Of all of the hats I wear... veterinarian, wife, housekeeper, runner, photographer, blogger,.. my "mama" hat is probably the one that feels like it bears the most weight most days.

And the one that seems to keep me up at night questioning every move I make.

As my children move out of the "little" stage and emerge into the "midpoint" of their childhoods, I'm frantically realizing that my decisions, actions, and reactions all can have major repercussions. There's no textbook on this stuff. And some days the "right thing" just doesn't seem clear.

Monday morning Girl Scientist #2 wakes up claiming that her stomach was bothering her and she didn't feel well enough to go to school. The stomach flu has been looming around the school so I wasn't surprised. I confess I did not take this news well. Mondays are my marathon shifts at work, and I often work 12 hour days. I couldn't possibly call in for a day off, so I grudgingly took her with me to the clinic. We have a bedroom upstairs for the overnight staff and I told her she'd just have to rest until her dad was available to pick her up after his work day and bring her home.

After a couple of hours she starts getting ancy, most unlike a child who's so sick she just needs to lie down. She watched me in surgery. I took her to lunch and she ate like a horse. She drew pictures. She was conversational, almost "chatty." Most UNLIKE a sick kid.

When I come home from work she is watching cartoons and seems very normal. I think it's over.

Thank goodness. I have a million things to do, errands to run, and I only have a few more days 'til Christmas.

The next morning...

I can't get her out of bed. She's sobbing. She feels like she has to throw up and her tummy "really hurts bad." So I realize there's another day of this. Oh well. It is what it is. I decided to try to run on the treadmill since I couldn't leave the house (ugh). No errands. Kept her in bed and she seemed absolutely fine through the course of the day. Eating, chatty, no vomit. I ask if she's pooping. Yes, she says.

So we wake up on Wednesday morning, and here we go AGAIN. She's dying. Now her throat hurts. She couldn't POSSIBLY go to school like this. I feel my temper rise and my sanity coming unglued. The dilemma: is she sick or not?? What is going on here???

So off to the doc we go. I miss my scheduled holiday breakfast with friends. I have a 6 mile run scheduled for the day. What, on the tready??? I think not. I have a zillion things to do that DO NOT INVOLVE SMALL CHILDREN.

We sit in the doctors office. For a LONG. FRIGGIN. TIME.

She complains: Why is it taking him so long? I'm bored.

Seriously?!?!?

Doc FINALLY makes it in and examines her. Her tonsils are "a touch red" but there are no other abnormalities. Rapid strep test was negative.

So he says: So she has a little bug but nothing serious. She can return to school when she feels up to it.

Seriously?!?!? Three days of missed school for a "little bug"?

She asks me if I can take her to get a frozen yogurt because she was so good at the doctor's. I'm starting to get seriously pissed off. No, she didn't get any yogurt.

Day Four. She's not "up to it." She says her stomach hurts again. I am starting to sense a Peter and the Wolf phenomenon, and am beginning to lose my composure. I start turning ugly like that woman in my office the other day. I feel the non-remarkable doctor's visit validates my anger. So I tell her (quite SHARPLY, mind you):

If you stay home today you will stay in BED. You may not watch TV, you may do nothing but sleep, pee, poop, and drink. It will be the most boring day of your life. A sick kid wouldn't mind it. A well kid will find it like a living hell.

And so she stayed in bed. There was some crying involved. Why can't she watch TV? NOTHING. Stimulus deprivation. If this is a mental game she's playing with me, she will lose.

By the evening we think it's all over. She reports she feels better. We ask if she plans on going back to school. She says yes. Aha!!! The "jail cell" approach worked!! Too damn bad it took me FOUR DAYS to use it!!!

Friday morning we all get up. She dresses herself. She acts perfectly normal. I feed the herd breakfast. Just as they are ready to shuffle out the door to the bus stop, she falls onto the floor (I kid you not) and starts crying.

My tummy hurts again!

I totally lose it. I swear the neighbors must have heard my voice! I was OVER IT!!!! And I realized at that very moment that I could never, ever win a Mother of the Year award. In fact, if someone sane had witnessed my outburst, they would probably see if they could get my parenting license revoked. She was going to try to pull this for ANOTHER DAY!!!! DAY FIVE, people!!!!

I was so angry, I debated whether I should drag her to the bus kicking and screaming (because that's literally what I would have had to do to get her to school), or throw her back into bed, slam the door, and get myself collected.

I decided not to drag her to the bus.

I walked around the house, literally muttering out loud to myself. I truly felt distraught. What if there is really something wrong and we're missing it??? What if I'm angry at her and there's really a problem? Could the problem be THAT serious when she asks for McDonald's and frozen yogurt after the bus leaves the stop?

So I take a deep breath and tell her:

I'm taking you to an urgent care facility. I'm going to ask them to run several tests. There will likely be needles involved, but if you're sick that's just what has to happen. ARE YOU SICK???

And she said yes.

So off we went to urgent care.

We had the best experience there. They got her right in, took all of her vitals. They ordered bloodwork and X-rays. The male nurse hit her tiny vein despite her kicking, screaming, and flailing in terror. That dude deserves to win a major award! I need him at the veterinary hospital!

And the verdict is in: she was sick. Well, sort of.

She is full of crap. Literally.

Despite my Miralax dosing, she is obstipated (really constipated), and there's a bunch of gas behind it giving her bad cramps. Good call on the X-ray because her abdominal palpation wasn't very telling.

Back at the ranch, I've loaded her up with Gas-X, Miralax, Gatorade, and even better.. SUPPOSITORIES.

She's had a really bad day.

And I'm still super grumpy, because we've had to hang out by the toilet all day. She needs my assistance, poor baby.

So... Mother of the Year Award. Not going to get it. Anytime. Soon.

So am I feeling grateful??? Well, of course! I'm grateful she's okay and that it's just a little pooping problem and nothing more serious. I'm grateful I didn't inflict bodily harm (although whether I caused psychological harm is yet to be determined). I'm grateful none of my neighbors called social services on me.

My goal is to not lose my mind this weekend. We've got A LOT going on. I need to hold it together and try to manage the stress. Not getting my runs in this week has not helped at all. It's funny how it can be so hard to get that run in even though you know that when you do, you'll feel so much better.

I run 13 miles with TNT tomorrow morning. A bit worried that my lack of training this weekend will make it a rough go, but sometimes you just have to work with what you've got.

When Someone Gets Ugly...

2011-12-13T06:19:00.000-08:00

So I said I would start every post with a reason for me to be grateful. I have to say that some mornings feeling grace isn't so easy. All the more reason to keep this exercise up.

So, I am grateful for my job. That's saying a lot given yesterday's fun moments. Typically, because I am a professional (so they say) I get treated respectfully. I can count on one hand in my 14 year career the number of times a client has "snapped" at me or even used profanity. I suppose I am luckier than most. But luck wasn't in my corner yesterday. And even though this has NOTHING to do with running, I'll share the story just for cathartic purposes.

A gentleman carries his 70 lb Bull Terrier into the clinic because he cannot walk. The dog's left rear paw is so swollen he cannot bear weight on it. I review the dog's history (I had personally never seen this pet before) and examine the beast. He has a SEVERE case of skin allergies... so bad in fact that his entire body is covered with infected skin, even his toenails. I sense right away that the swelling is likely due to cellulitis (or infection within the tissues under the skin) but I noticed two things: 1) there was crepitus (or a "crunchy" sensation) in his metatarsal joints and 2) his lymph node on that leg was 5-10 times larger than it should be. Because of these circumstances, I recommended an X-ray of his paw to rule out bone infection, bone cancer, or any occult fractures. The man agrees. We carry the dog back to X-ray. The X-rays show some arthritis (cause of the crunchiness) but nothing serious. We cleanse the affected paw and apply some topical medications, and I get several prescriptions geared towards fighting the infection and pain together. I walk back to the exam room to discuss the findings.

When I walk in the man's wife has arrived and she's standing there with a horrendously angry look on her face. Scary angry. Before I get a word out, she snaps "Why in God's name did you take X-rays on my dog?" So I started to explain my reasons for pursuing an X-ray and she's rolling her eyes and cuts me off. She says that every time she comes in here and doesn't see "Dr. X" her bill is run up. Had I even bothered to read the history on the chart I would have KNOWN that an X-ray wasn't necessary. She is sick and tired of everyone trying to make a buck out of the situation. Her dog has allergies. This is all from a split toenail. Dr. X would have seen that, but she just couldn't get an appointment with him.

She is speaking to me so rudely and condescendingly I am taken off guard. I felt pure anger and venom rise in my blood. This was a test to see if I could keep it together.

I had to tell her to stop talking for a moment, it was THAT bad. Meanwhile the husband is cowered in the corner, eyes cast down, shoulders slumped and silent as a tomb.

I told her it was this simple:

1) I read her dog's chart and was aware of her dog's history. I suspected an infection and told her husband so. I didn't appreciate her accusing me of not reading the record.

2) Her dog's paw had an abnormal palpation and a severely enlarged lymph node. Had I NOT suggested an X-ray, I may have missed a serious diagnosis such as bone cancer. How would she have felt about my job as her pet's doctor if it was missed?

3) Her husband had the option to decline the X-ray. He did not.

4) The bottom line on her bill does not affect my salary. I don't earn a commission based on how much more money she spends. What does this mean? It means I recommend what I think is BEST for the pet, not for the hospital's profit. She is flat out wrong if she thinks my motivation is to earn more money for the practice by recommending frivolous tests.

5) If she prefers to see another doctor and does not trust any of the rest of us to make the right recommendations, she should schedule the appointments with Dr. X ONLY. Honestly, I would prefer this (and I said this to her) because I did not appreciate her disrespectful treatment of me and the situation. I did the best that I could for her DOG. And it is about her DOG, right?

I think this says it in a nutshell: after my points were made, she turned to her cowering husband and hissed: "This is all YOUR fault!"

I literally felt nauseous as I looked at his crumpled face. He still said nothing. Not a word. Lord, I felt like causing bodily harm but I just made myself walk out of there.

A few hours later, I decompressed. I told Dr. X about the whole thing. We agreed that some people have real problems, and cannot cope. The filter is gone. We just stand in the line of fire because we are there at the wrong moment. It's SO HARD to do, but you have to take the situation for what it truly is. It wasn't about me. This lady is seriously angry and depressed. And I feel so sorry for her dog and her husband too. I hope they find some peace soon because she's causing people to suffer!

Am I grateful for my job? You bet I am. I have a job. I earn a paycheck doing something I feel has meaning. For the most part I am treated with respect, kindness, and gratitude for what I do. I do the best that I can. I'm not perfect and could always do better, but I know I do what I think is fair and right. I'm under NO pressure by my employer to do anything but what I feel is appropriate. And THAT is something to be very grateful for.

So... what is another goal for the upcoming year? I really have so many. Some are very specific like "no soda for an entire year" and some are pretty vague like "have a better attitude." But given the latest situation I would like to evolve into a more even-keeled mama. We mamas walk a fine line: we need to be a drill sergeant all the while showing compassion and encouragement. There are days I feel frustrated and recognize the "tolerance level" has dropped significantly and I remind myself a bit of that angry client I had so much disdain for yesterday. I catch myself snapping, and it fills my heart with regret and sadness for those (mainly my loved ones) who stand in that line of fire.

It takes the ability to recognize that you are unraveling, and the discipline to keep it from happening. To gain back the rational side of yourself and think before you speak. To realize that your actions can cause others around you to hurt.

My scheduled training distance is 5 miles. I hope to make this week as close to the plan as possible. I've decided my goal of running the marathon in 4 hours or under is a reachable goal. I can do this, but I have to put in the training. Holidays or not, I will make the time.

Passing the Baton... or Volleyball?

2011-12-11T16:29:00.001-08:00

So I am going to start a new format for my blog. It's purely experimental. Who knows if I can keep up with it. But we are on the verge of a new year, and I have big hopes for 2012. I'm in the mood to set the bar higher, so I hope to motivate myself by being very clear about my goals.

First, I will start off my posts with a reason for me to be grateful. There's ALWAYS a reason to be grateful, even when you feel like there isn't, and anger or self-pity has swallowed you whole. Remembering that your life and your circumstances, however grim they might seem at the moment, pale in comparison to others. Bringing it back to what's truly important helps the anger and sadness seep away.

My first and biggest reason to feel grateful is my immediate family: my husband and my children. I often wake up some mornings and wonder how it is that the stars lined up so perfectly and allowed me to be so lucky. I am truly blessed every day that I have with them. We have built an inner circle of love and trust. Every day we strive to make our lives filled with happiness, and it is our dream that our kids reflect back on their childhoods with joy and satisfaction. I can only hope, that despite the mistakes I've made, I make, and will inevitably will make, that they will see the big picture: we want them to live full, productive, and rewarding lives. I want them to honor their health and their minds. I want them to always know what's important. And I want them to know that life is a gift... make it count. Take nothing for granted. Waste no opportunities to be the best you can be. I could go on and on about this subject but I'll keep it simple: I owe my happiness and my life's meaning to my husband and our children.

A goal for the upcoming year: to spend more time encouraging my kids to keep physically fit. All of our kids are active in sports... in fact we may be a bit overzealous in this department but the statistics are clear. More and more kids are fighting heath problems far too early because they are not getting off the couch. Boy Scientist loves himself a video game. In fact, he loves it so much we have to put restrictions on his computer access. If he (and the rest of the rug rats) can strike a balance, then it's my hope it will be a habit they carry through on to adulthood. I wish I learned how important fitness was to both the body and mind earlier than my late 30's. Oh well, it's never too late.

So today's training goal was to be an easy 4 miler. Instead, it turned out to be an easy 3 miler with Girl Scientist #1 and her volleyball teammate. We sang Christmas carols like "Jingle Bells" and tried to name vegetables that started with every letter of the alphabet. I loved every minute of it. Who would have thought two girls, age 10 and 11, would want to run 3 miles with an old mama like me?

Nothing inspires me more than seeing my kids getting out there and giving it their best. Because it's way too easy for them to say no, but they choose to do what isn't the easy way out. They choose to do what's best for them, what makes them feel strong.

Pass the baton.

There is No "I" in Team

2011-12-10T11:26:00.001-08:00

As usual, I started off the week fully prepared to take on my training schedule and not skip a beat. After an encouraging long run with my TNT group last Sunday, I was feeling pretty strong despite my foot/toe pain. I told myself during that run that this was going to be it. I was going to prove to myself that I am capable of so much more than I have already done, and that if I can just stay disciplined and stick to a plan, it will really pay off in March.

Then Tuesday came along with my prescribed 5 miler, and my fears of not having prepared AT ALL for the holidays kicked in and I just gave up the idea I was going to fit a run in before my shopping errands and work shift. So no run.

By Wednesday I told myself there would be no more skipping. To punish myself for missing the day before I hit the only park in our city that has "hills." It was 70 degrees outside (WTH?) and I overdressed. I was grumpy and not in the mood. The prescribed distance was 6 miles. But by mile 3 of running in the "heat" and up and down 2 mini-mountains, my feet were aching, I was out of gas, and I was just over it. I quit early and hit a few more stores and got some more gifts purchased. Whatever.

Thursday the temps came down a bit and I got my mind right to get out there for a 5 miler around the neighborhood. Oddly enough I took my cell phone; this is not a usual thing I do because my iPhone is bulky and cumbersome. As I hit mile 3 the phone rang and it was the school saying Girl Scientist #2 was in the nurse's office with a fever. So thus ended my 5 miler at 4 miles. The good news: I picked up the pace to get home and it wasn't half bad. Unintentional tempo run?

Friday I didn't want to push any distance on the asphalt to prepare myself for Saturday's long run. So I biked instead. I went about 13 miles I think. I was tired. Who says biking is easier than running? If you're keeping a respectable speed (I was trying to stay 12-13 MPH on my hybrid) it can let the steam right out of you. My legs and butt felt a little like jello when it was all said and done. Guess that's a good thing.

So... this morning was my second group run with our local Team in Training chapter. There were TONS more people there than last weekend. Guess everyone was recovering from the 10 miler last weekend that I skipped. It was a bit chilly and windy but otherwise good temps. I like running on the trail this time of year (no biting bugs) and it's softer on my aching toes. I had 12 miles on schedule for today.

I've decided I really like running with others. The first 5 miles I was just following other teammates, using them as my pacers, but most are doing the half instead of the full so they turned back early. At the halfway point I caught up with the only other person who is training for the full that I know of. We decided to hang together the last 6 miles, and the convo really helped. He is a TNT triathlon coach and ran cross country from 8th grade through high school. He hopes to complete his first marathon in 3:30-3:45. Whaaaaat?!? I told him he was going to be my pacer. If I could seriously hang with him for most if not all of the race, that would be something. We ran the 12 miles in about 1:48... not bad for a training run!

I realized that having others around to support and motivate you really helps you past the mental roadblocks. Perhaps I can't do it as well on my own, but I think I can do better with a team. I still need to work on the self-discipline; I will need it when I don't have anyone around to push me. In the meantime, I think joining TNT may have been the best decision I have could have ever made. I could see myself not wanting to give it up once the Shamrock is over.

Contemplative "loner" moment in Mexico last month

So I am really going to try to use my blog to outline my specific goals from day to day, and to reflect on the things I have successfully changed to remind myself that I keep improving when I stay consistent. And I will also use it to remind me to be grateful, every single day, for my health and the ability to keep strong. I may be getting older every day, but I really believe I am getting fitter and stronger. It's far too easy to use the excuse of age to keep us from trying. I will fight that tendency with all my might. I feel better when I move.

Upcoming Week's Plan:

Tomorrow: An "easy" 4 miler
Monday: Rest, yoga
Tuesday: 5 miler
Wednesday: 6 miler, indoor volleyball
Thursday: Tempo 25 min
Friday: Cross Train
Saturday: 13 mile long run with team

My Name Is... Hey, Look! There's a Squirrel!

2011-12-08T05:24:00.001-08:00

I don't know if it's my age, the fact that it's almost Christmas and I'm completely unprepared, or that I've just plain lost my mind. But this is basically how my thought pattern is working these days:

Every cotton pickin' year I go through the same syndrome, and I always promise myself it will not be like this next year. And then the first week of December springs upon me and I have done nothing. I wake up in a panic, wondering how I can miraculously create more hours in a day.

Just when I try to get my mind right, the distractions start kicking in... the checking of the emails, the perusing through the Facebook status updates, the combing through the endless advertisements and catalogs. The clock has not been kind. My time management skills and organizational habits have gone completely out the window. And here I am blogging. Gotta love my priorities.

The upside: I was productive yesterday and got a lot done.

The downside: no running.

Speaking of running (see, my thoughts really are jointed), I actually was able to make my very first group run with Team in Training last Sunday. About 8 people I think? One other guy was doing my distance of 10 miles. It was a trail run and the weather was perfect. My pace was kinda meh but it's okay. It was my first long run after the marathon and I was okay with it.

Did I mention my TNT coach is THE leprechaun for the Shamrock Marathon events?

He really is great and spent some time advising me on using tempo runs as the main may to bring my pace down. I was telling him that without Shannon to force me on the 400 meter track for speedwork, I didn't think I could get myself to go it alone. He was really encouraging and I think these group runs really will save me when it comes down to it.

Off to try to make more hours in a day.... hey, is that a squirrel? I wonder who's on Facebook now...

Mining For Motivation

2011-12-03T11:17:00.001-08:00

So I have to confess this has been a very off week for my training, and it's such a shame. I came home to Virginia and the weather this week has been so depressing, my routine was disrupted, and then I got the news about my feet being all arthritic and all of a sudden my bubble just burst and I couldn't find my motivation.

I KNOW what I need to do to get on with things. I need to stop thinking about it and just get back to where I was. For a while I was in a rhythm and it just became the norm. I've let it slip away, and let my negativity creep in. I need to come to terms with setbacks, because we all have them, and embrace the challenge. Hatch a plan and move forward.

So... need to explain the reference to mining in the post title. One of the highlights of our trip to Mexico (for me, anyway) was driving south back towards Los Cabos from Todos Santos. The weather was strange (by Mexico standards, anyway). We actually experienced a bit of desert rain:

Thanks to my sister for taking a lot of these cool shots.

And we came upon an old mining town called El Triunfo. Here was our first glimpse of it from the road:

In the late 1800's gold and silver were discovered in the mountains, so miners from everywhere including China and the U.S. settled here. They built a big melting facility out of bricks, and the town was pretty built up for being in the middle of nowhere.

But once everything in the mines were depleted, the town just sort of dwindled by the 1920's. Most of the buildings have fallen into disrepair; this is actually part of some one's home:

But there are remnants of the structures left behind:

Gustave Eiffel designed this 35 meter high smokestack:

Pieces of old machinery lying around:

The Scientists really enjoyed exploring the tunnels and passageways created by the dilapidated buildings.

A towns person offered to guide us up the mountain a little bit to see the "English graveyard." Basically, it was a small enclosed courtyard with about 13 unmarked tombs. The tombs were so large we assumed they enclosed several people each. But we were told it was only one individual in each tomb.

It always saddens me to see an unmarked grave, or one that has clearly been neglected or forgotten. It reminds me of our tiny presence in the big scheme of time, and often our impertinence. But it also reminds me that, depending on your beliefs, we are only given one life on this earth, and we need to choose to live it well. Any day could be our last. Make it count.

Isn't it interesting how traveling can bring such philosophical revelations?

Wus-SUP?

2011-11-30T09:37:00.001-08:00

Well, I knew I wouldn't blog in Mexico. I hate it when I know myself too well.

It'll take me several posts to touch on the highlights.

So our weeklong vacation in Baja is over, and it was wonderful... we have every reason to be more than grateful to spend Thanksgiving in such a way. We did so many things. My sister and brother-in-law spent a lot of time and energy to ensure we were thoroughly entertained, and we were. The weather was absolutely perfect and we spent almost every single day on a beach.

My dad bit the bullet and bought a jetski, so our first day was almost completely devoted to that piece of equipment. He also got a pull-behind raft, so that the kids could fly behind the jetski. Pictures and even video to follow in a later post.

But on day two I got to do something that I've been wanting to do for quite a while... SUP.

What's SUP?!?!? It's actually stand up paddling, and I've been watching SUPers here in Virginia Beach as the activity has increased in popularity and read all the blog posts about how it's such a great workout for your arms and core... two areas that I rarely work on. I'm always interested in finding cross-training activities that are fun, so I really have wanted to give it a try.

Well it just so happens my sister had been wanting to try it too and she discovered that SUP Mexico was offering discounted rentals the week we were there, so we jumped on the opportunity.

And so here we go:

And I'm up!!!

The water was so nice and calm that morning. It was a workout, to be sure, but I found the balancing part to be not too hard... at first.

My sister and BIL also enjoyed themselves out there.

And the Scientists wanted their go at it. The Man was completely disinterested but was willing to take Girl Scientist #2 out for a spin.

The Boy mastered the board pretty nicely.

I was proud of the kids getting out there and hanging tough. Only a couple of spills here and there... but they did well!

And even my 13 month old niece wanted to get in on the action!!! How cute is this???

Later in the afternoon the currents really started to pick up and when I went out for the second time with my sister, standing up was not as easy. In fact, I fell over a few times and my balance was just horrible. My sister did lots better than I did. I still liked being out there, which is a lot for me because I tend to get seasick... EASILY.

One thing we all noticed was that our feet ached so much afterward. I guess you don't realize how much you clench your feet on that board. And on that note...

I saw a podiatrist today. I made the appointment before our trip, because I was really worrying about my big toe pain. And with the Shamrock marathon in a little over 3 months, I realized I have a lot more miles to put on those toes and wanted some sound advice as to how to deal with it.

The doc reminded me of a skinnier version of Cake Boss. He's definitely from Jersey or NY. He's even a newbie runner and done a 5K and 10K this year. He was nice and didn't ridicule me for taking my own X-rays or testing my uric acid level. He said it definitely wasn't gout though. Absolutely not.

Basically, I have just really bad arthritis from repeatedly "jamming" my big toes and now I have bone spurs. His Xrays, which included more views, really demonstrate the changes. It's kind of bad... he wanted to inject cortisone into the joints right then and there but I panicked and told him I'd hold off. I just wasn't ready for a big needle to be plunged into my joints. I'm sure I will be back, especially as my long runs get more challenging. He said the shots could give me weeks to months of pain relief.

But...

Osteoarthritis is not cured and it progresses (especially if I want to keep up my running). So surgery was discussed... basically a "cleaning out" of the damaged cartilage and shaving off the bone spurs. Eeeeeek. He said eventually, a fusion may need to be considered, and with the way my toes have been aching I bet he's right.

No more high heels for me, ever. Not that I ever wore them. Just soft, cushy crocs or flops.

Gettin' old sucks.

Interview Intervention

2011-11-18T05:09:00.001-08:00

So yesterday I mentioned that I wanted to conduct an interview with my Boy Scientist after he turned 12 this past Wednesday. I got this idea from Beth Risdon's blog Shut Up and Run and so this is completely unoriginal on my part and cannot take any credit for it. Beth's interview with her son was funny and made for a good laugh, and I just couldn't wait for the silliness that would pour out of my child's mouth.

First, a little time lapse photography:

Rolling around on mama's bed at 6 months.

One year old and smiling!

4 years old and needing a good nose wipe.

Pretty proud of the that number on the cake.

Star Wars still reigning supreme at 8 years.

Taking up a cool new hobby this past summer.

A City Champion with his middle school teammates.

Showing his age on his big day.

So, we were all dog piled on the sofa last night watching our beloved Hokies take on the North Carolina Tarheels and during halftime I whipped out the questions Beth authored and had my pencil and paper ready...

Mom: What does being 12 mean to you?

Boy: It makes me feel older, stronger, and better about myself. I feel more responsible.

Mom: That's it?

Boy: Yep.

Mom: Huh. Okay. If you could change one thing about your life what would it be?

Boy: Hmmmmm. That I wouldn't get depressed so easily.

Mom: HUH? What... what do you mean... depressed?!?

Boy: Well, if I get embarrassed, I don't get over it. I just get sad. I also wish I was taller, and that I was a stronger soccer player.

Mom (staring at child with grave concern and still thinking about the word "depressed"): Oh. Um. So...what's it like having me as your mom? You can be honest.

Boy: Well... you're nice... AT TIMES. But sometimes you yell at me a lot.

Mom (cringing, and getting more and more alarmed): That's it?

Boy (shrugging): Well...

Man: Yeah, but tell me all the great things about your DAD!!!!

Mom (irritated AND alarmed): Wait a minute! This is MY interview!

Boy: I'm done answering questions. No more.

And he was serious. He was done. (Insert image of Heath Ledger's Joker saying "Why so serious???")

So that was our "funny," memorable interview about turning 12. Reading back over it now I don't know whether to cry or pick up the phone now and call a therapist. So much for the great idea I stole from someone else. Maybe this is payback for plagiarizing.

These little snippets/moments, whatever you want to call them, are gentle reminders about the passage of time and I realize that my son's life is not all about what toy he's going to play with next or what food he's going to turn his nose up at that day (he's picky). We're starting to move into the phase of self-doubt as he goes through that dreaded transition from boy to teen. He's still young and in so many ways, dragging behind his peers in size and priorities. But the change is coming, he knows it, and while he is not a very open and outspoken child, he's feeling it.

And I can't control it or stop the hard parts now or those that are yet to come.

So this mom who is nice (AT TIMES) and obviously has yelling issues needs to pack up the posse for our trip south of the border.

This trip snuck up on me... I can't believe it's here. I'm starting to feel the anticipation of being back on the picturesque beach overlooking the aqua blue Sea of Cortez and seeing the amazing and dramatic sunsets. I've said it before, but saying it again never hurts. For all of life's challenging moments, we have to appreciate what is beautiful and what is a blessing. Our family, thanks to the hard work and generosity of my father, has made this trip to paradise several times now, and each time we have amazing memories we treasure. We will never stop being grateful for the opportunity to travel to another country and absorb the phenomenally beautiful landscape and culture so different from our own. Yeah, it's another beach.... but NOTHING like ours!!

I will try to blog while I'm there and the adventures are still fresh, but if this time is anything like our previous visits, it won't happen much if at all. I have "blog guilt" when I'm around family. I only blog when I'm alone and no one is around to judge me for my folly. One day I might be proud of my efforts to record my journey with running (and all the other stuff I tend to ramble on about) and won't be full of shame about taking this time to be completely self-indulgent. But with our lives being so busy I remain a closet blogger.

I plan to run in Mexico. How else will I fight off the fajita and margarita calories?

Still enjoying my tea. This morning it's Sweet Oolong Revolution. Mmmmmm.

A Total Tea Party

2011-11-17T05:42:00.001-08:00

Last Tuesday my friend and I were supposed to meet a professional photographer in Olde Town Portsmouth for a lesson. I was really looking forward to this, because even though I've tried to improve my knowledge and utilization of the manual settings on my camera I still have issues... and with my little side project of taking portraits in exchange for donations to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, I really felt a brush up course would help inspire some more creativity and ideas.

So we waited in the agreed upon coffee shop, soaking in the ambience of semi-city culture... watching the twenty-somethings with their Apple laptops in tow, breezing in for a latte' or other foo-foo drink. We admired the stripped/exposed brick wall covered with artistic photos. We drooled over the baked goods in the display case. We downloaded ridiculous new apps for our iPhones like White Christmas that takes pictures of you with fake snow falling down around you. And we waited some more.

And 30 minutes went by. No sign of the photographer. No response to our text message.

Finally, he answers his cell phone and I could tell right away... the dude FORGOT us. So... basically, we drove all the way down to cute-sey Old Town Portsmouth for... a cup of coffee.

We rescheduled our next FREE lesson and wandered around the town a bit. You'd think we would have taken pictures of some of the neat historical buildings, but nah... we were too busy griping.

We then decided to head to MacArthur's Center in Norfolk to window shop and grab lunch.

One of the first stores we ran across was a tea shop called Teavana.

It was still technically morning and the lady was just setting out freshly brewed samples of numerous tea blends. The first one I sampled was DIVINE, and it hit me right at that moment like a ton of bricks: why don't I ever drink tea??? I like tea. Well, some teas. I like THIS tea. A lot!

The saleslady was a virtual pro. She saw the stars in my eyes from the moment I took that first sip, and she knew she could work me over. She started going into all the health benefits of teas emphasizing the ANTI-AGING qualities (because clearly I look like I am in desperate need of a fountain of youth). She started explaining the ART of tea... because apparently:

1. You should only drink loose leaf tea. Bags are bad.

2. You have to store the tea in an air-tight TIN container (available for an extra fee, of course). Other means of storage will cause the tea to go stale in 5 days and that is bad.

3. You should brew your tea in a cast iron kettle. Other kettle types are bad.

4. You should never press/crush the leaves. That is bad.

5. You should only steep the tea for the prescribed period of time. Too long is bad.

6. You should sweeten your tea with German rock cane sugar only. Other types of sugar and sweeteners alter the original taste of the tea and that is bad.

Huh! No wonder I've never stuck with my previous "tea kicks." You see, there have been periods in the past few years when I would try to go on a tea kick. I'd drink a cup of green tea for a day or two, feel all proud of myself, then rapidly lose interest. Then I'd be back to coffee and it's lack of complications.

But if you could just smell the blend of this tea (imagine spicy, cinnamon-ey, fruity goodness):

A blend of "Samurai Chai Mate" and "White Ayurvedic Chai"

I got suckered by my sense of smell and taste. And the desire to be a cool, new age tea drinker.

I am so pathetic I might cry.

Check out my new tea gadget. Nope, it's not a cast iron kettle. I may be a sucker and dropped a few bucks on some dried leaves and berries, but I had to draw the line at the kettle. T.J. Maxx had this little number for about 1/4 of the price. It may be "bad" but it's getting the job done right now:

Definitely NOT cast iron.

But I DID fall for the German rock sugar bit. Maybe it's because my family is German and I felt a kinship with the sugar. Maybe it was just because it looked COOL:

So... another "tea kick" has begun. Wonder how long this one will last? Anyone a tea leaf fortune teller?

So... tomorrow is our last day in the States before we set on our week long adventure in Mexico. I'm going to try to blog one more time before our trip.

Yesterday was my firstborn's 12th birthday and I think I'm going to steal a brilliant idea from Shut Up and Run's author, Beth Risdon. When her son turned 14 she interviewed him about his thoughts about getting older and what his hopes and dreams are. It was funny and will likely be a great read for their family in years to come. Since it's my hope that this blog might serve one day as a record for my kids and a little insight into my mind/world, it might be a fun twist to add this in.

Cheers (in my best British accent while toasting with my cup of youth)...

Own This Beach: The OBX Marathon 2011

2011-11-16T03:28:00.001-08:00

Time for another race report. My second full marathon is in the books!

So almost 50% of my Chicken Leg Ragnar team (all female by the way, because the 4 males were too scared... ha ha) met up for the OBX Marathon in Outer Banks, North Carolina. Three from Virginia Beach, one from Winchester, Virginia, and one from Rhode Island. Yep, she drove down from Rhode Island to run with us!!! How crazy is that? I love it.

Here we are at an Italian pizza pub carb loading the night before. I ate so many potato products I felt like I was going to explode. And the rest of the girls look nicely dressed while I look like I'm ready to go for an evening run:

Also met up with my vet school classmate, Sam, who ran the 5K with his 8 year old son earlier that morning. He had another PR and felt pretty good about it!

This is my second rodeo with this course, so I wasn't as nervous about getting on the shuttle and driving to the start. Sure was a different experience than last year. I flash back now to the moment I sat on that bus, alone, as freaked out as I could be. Then this man wrapped in a space blanket with big compression socks sat next to me and introduced himself as "Bill from Florida.". And he became my running buddy.

But this time I chatted with Jenn about how I hate porta-potties and stopping at water stops. The ride went by quickly and suddenly we were there at the starting line.

We just couldn't have asked for a better morning. Not too cold, not too warm, beautiful sunrise... even the porta-potties were tolerable. We stretched and chatted and joked.

Now, I realize that for some, running in races is a group experience and that sticking with each other gets one another through a tough distance. So I felt conflicted about what I should do... run with the Chicken Leg pack and not worry about getting a PR, or see if my extra training this year would lead to an improvement on my first performance. I made an executive decision as we stood in our corral that I would try to be a lone wolf and see what I could do. The ladies had similar paces and usually train together, and all of them had done a marathon before, so I didn't feel like I was abandoning anyone. Besides, these gals know how I roll. I'm competitive with myself and they know it (and I hoped they wouldn't hold it against me). So when the gun went off I turned on my iPod and just put one foot in front of the other and tried to find my zone.

Like I said, it was just a glorious morning, and after about mile 3 I just felt good and in a rhythm. I was keeping about a 9 min/mile pace and feeling wonderful. We ran through beautiful residential areas where homeowners were outside cheering everyone on in their pajamas and handing out bottles of water. The sun was rising on our left over the ocean, and we had gorgeous views of the sound on our right.

Then we turned a corner about mile 8 or so and we were upon the Wright Brothers' Memorial and I whipped out my camera to catch this shot. Sepia tone just makes it more serene looking...

After the Memorial, we entered the trail portion of the course and it was a little bit more challenging than I remembered. But I still made it to mile 13 in under 2 hours and still felt good so I was hanging in there both mentally and physically.

Last year, my mental and physical "wall" was hit around mile 16-17. That was the point where I told Bill I was going to have to walk some. This year, I muscled through that point and kept my pace consistent. I was so happy I could have done a back flip.

But... after mile 20-21 the wall stood before me. My feet and toes were burning, my legs were aching and I could feel my will power fizzle. I looked at my Garmin. If I kept going at my previous pace, I would get to the finish in just a bit over 4:00... unbelievable... but then...

The bridge.

I wanted so much to run that bridge... conquer it like it was nothing compared to the hill at Ragnar. But the truth was, I had just run 22 miles before the incline and I was BEAT. But I gave it all I could and mustered a 10:30 pace for the incline. A fellow runner asked if I wanted my picture taken and I said sure... tried to give it my best "smile":

I had to walk a bit at the "top"... so I can't claim true bridge victory, but I ran most of it.

After that point it was a walk/jog/walk/jog to mile 25. It was such a reminder that you just have to respect this distance. It's hard. I didn't have another ounce to give, but I ran that last mile or so in to the finish. The Garmin reported 26.41 miles in 4:17:25.

I stuffed a granola bar and a banana down my gullet in record time and sat on a curb and just sighed with relief. And even though I was pretty darn sore, I walked an extra mile or so to the hotel room, quickly showered and got rid of the stinkiness, and went back to the finish to cheer on my Ragnar teammates.

Here we are. Twenty six point freakin' two miles.

Here are my official stats: chip time 4:17:27.

451 out of 1215 finishers overall.

141 out of 520 females overall.

20 out of 89 finishers in my age group.

So just some overall reflections... first, I'm proud of my time. I cut 31 whole minutes off my time from last year, and that in itself is a reason to call this race a huge success for me. Any improvement is a victory, and reflects a better preparation. I've taken running more seriously this year, and more training = better results. Period.

I really enjoyed being there with friends. Even though I didn't actually run with them, I loved chatting and hanging out with them before and after the race. There were some moments of hardship... like when one of my friends got sick a couple of times after the finish, and a couple of the gals were charged extra for their hotel rooms since they didn't make it back by check out time... but we all decided that no race experience is going to be perfect and we take those moments and turn them into something useful and positive for the next attempt.

Speaking of learning, I had a revelation as I hit my wall during the race. Instead of feeling down on myself, I started having positive inner dialogue. I told myself that I was doing so much better than last year, and what had changed? Consistency. Hillwork. Actually completing the longer training runs on the schedule. The desire to improve. The knowledge that I had it in me, and it's not impossible.

So even though I did NOT reach my goal of no walking during this race, I don't consider it a fail. Maybe I'll just consider this race my training run for my next attempt at 26.2 in March. I have high hopes for that race, I'll make no secret of it. I see potential here, and I hope I can live up to it.

Mexico next week! What a change it will be running in that terrain and in the heat. Looking forward to it!

Totally "P.M.S".-ing It

2011-11-09T06:37:00.000-08:00

Tried to uphold our annual tradition of camping at North Landing Beach Campground with friends last weekend. Wind gusts of over 35-40 mph whipped our tents so fiercely that we couldn't get a wink of sleep. The Man and Girl Scientists and I moved into our vehicles to try to get some rest but it just wasn't meant to be. "Roughing it" is a polite term for what we felt like. Of course I tried to take some pictures though.

My friend's warmed spiced wine made things lots more tolerable.

I have not been in the best frame of mind the past few days. I suppose it could be a bit of "P.M.S." (Pre-Marathon Syndrome)... I remember being horribly grumpy last year a week or so before the race due to the fear of the unknown, but I think this time the stars have just lined up a certain way and I just don't feel on top of my game, in a running sense or any other sense for that matter. I just feel out of control, insecure, and completely off the map. Where did I get off course?

There are days when I see things clearly for what they are, and all I feel is grace for what I am and what I have. I love the days when I have a true sense of perspective... a firm hold on reality, and I am so aware that there is truly nothing to complain about. Life is good. Sure it isn't perfect and it never will be, but the BIG PICTURE is a good one. I am fortunate. My family is fortunate. We have health, we have each other, our children are fabulous and beautiful, we have secure jobs, we have a great home with wonderful friends and neighbors. These are the the things to dwell on, to keep me smiling and inspired.

But every once in a while, as an average human being might tend to do, I can lose focus and think about the negative side of things. Like important relationships that have somehow deteriorated or fallen off track, that leave me feeling rejected and inadequate.

If life is a very big long lesson, then one of the most important things I need to remind myself is that no matter how old you get, or how much distance separates you, or how much time passes by, you will always seek the approval of your parent. It doesn't matter what they do, what they have done, or what they will do. It never goes away.

Last night my middle daughter and I were sitting in the gym watching the Man play volleyball. She stares up at me with her big, brown eyes and says "I want to be just like you, Mama. I want to be pretty and healthy, and a good athlete." I saw in her eyes the same look I had on my face when I was her age looking at my mother. My mother... tall, athletic, beautiful. I just wanted to be her. But now, all I wish is that I can live up to my own daughters' (and my son's) expectations of me and make them feel unconditionally loved for a lifetime. That they are important. That I have their backs, always. To not get lost in my own world and my own wants/needs when I know my presence in theirs is so vital. Not just in my thoughts or dreams, but physical presence.

I know this may not seem to have anything to do with running, but in its own way it does. I have a lifetime pattern of trying to prove myself, because somewhere along the line I just didn't feel like I was cutting it. Running has become another vehicle for this lifelong pattern. I wanted to be someone else from the very beginning. And sadly, in a lot of ways, nothing has changed. It's not that trying to be better at things all of the time is a bad thing. It's only bad when there's no end in sight... no sense of peace with attaining a goal, but always thinking about what's next and how can it be improved. Isn't that a syndrome?

I want to tell my daughter that she has it all wrong. She doesn't want to be just like me. She wants to be herself... a beautiful, confident, strong girl who feels comfortable in her own skin. It's great to work hard to be better at things... but gracefully accept your limitations, and try to work around them. Forget the setbacks. Shake 'em off and just move on with a smile. Negativity is a poison that kills you slowly and painfully. And remember those who love you... engage them, build them up, let them know they are important and you are proud of them.

And when she becomes that kinda woman, I will want to be just like her.

The Epic Showdown

2011-11-03T07:43:00.000-07:00

Last night we witnessed an epic soccer battle at the Virginia Beach Sportsplex Stadium. Boy's middle school soccer team made it to the City Championship after an amazing undefeated season.

Even our school "mascot" showed up to rally support. I was so pleased and amazed to see the stands filled with so many fans!

The OTHER team, Independence Middle, really had a phenomenal group of boys. They had big kids with some serious skills. They scored on us fast and early. But our team "woke up" and fought back. It was literally a nail biter. My heart was in my throat and my head pounded from the stress of watching such a tight match.

By the time regulation was over, we were tied 2-2. They went into two overtimes with no score. So you know what that means... the ultimate stress. Penalty kicks!!!!

Both teams missed their first PK's. Then we were tied 3-3 PK's when our guy made the 4th, and the other team's guy... MISSED slightly to the right. Our team and fans went NUTS!!!

The intensity was nauseating!!

Even though Boy did not get to play a single second on the field in this game, he celebrated like he made the winning goal. I'm so happy for all of them. I'm proud he made the team and got to be part of such a successful year. I'm thrilled he has a renewed passion for soccer, and I hope the upperclassmen inspire the upcoming 6th graders to work hard over the off season to improve and keep the legacy alive.

YOU ROCK BOYS!!!

Meltdowns and Other Implosions

2011-11-02T09:47:00.000-07:00

Welp, we had a great Halloween. Our annual Hallow-Wing Off was cancelled due to nasty weather, but things cleared up just perfectly in time for trick-or-treating. Here are some snapshots of our fun evening:

I've always loved Mexican food...

Still am puzzled as to how the Boy weasled his way into us buying this mask for him...

The Wickedest Family on the Cul-De-Sac...

Joking around with my neighbor friends:

Good times.

On a serious note, I had a major meltdown yesterday. Nothing earth shattering, but a meltdown nonetheless. I'll explain in a minute.

Over the weekend I received a training plan for the Shamrock Marathon from my Team in Training coach. I was so excited about the idea of being a part of a team, and someone with tons of experience giving me guidance, structure, and motivation. I thought, "This is it. It's time to see what you're really capable of, old woman."

It's not that I'm not proud of the accomplishments I've made this year. I could have completely imploded after Shannon moved away, but I kept on plugging away on my own and saw that I could improve with just staying consistent with training. I wasn't perfect, and didn't adhere to my training schedules to the letter, but I was definitely more consistent than I've ever been.

But there are other dimensions to becoming a better runner than just the running part. And this is where I have dropped the ball. I consistently ask myself why I keep up with running, and my answer has always been to be healthy and strong, and to prove that I can do what I never thought I could. It makes me proud, it increases my vitality, it gives me purpose. But it also given me an excuse to disregard the other aspects of health that are so critical to success... NUTRITION.

One of my friends on my Ragnar team wore a headband that read "I run so I can eat." And we all laughed about it, but in my case it has been particularly true... I eat what I want, when I want because running and genetics have prevented the obvious consequences of my actions. I drink sodas, eat crappy pizza and burgers, love chocolate, indulge in a glass of wine or two on most evenings... I could go on and on. I've TRIED to make dietary changes, but they never seem to stick. It's probably worse now than it's ever been since the running makes me hungry all of the time.

I have always had this secret fantasy that I was a "foodie"... one of those girls like Kath Eats Real Food or Eat, Live, Run. They get up every morning, eat nutritious foods like oatmeal sprinkled with chia seeds and the like, eat raw brussels sprouts for lunch, and make these unique meals for dinner that are just plain good for you. I'll read these blogs while munching away on a French bread pizza feeling guilty as sin. But as soon as the guilt washes away, I'm back to eating my Reese's peanut butter cup and planning my next run to work it off. It's just terrible.

Well, when I received the PLAN for Shamrock Monday morning, I had the "talk" with myself. Don't just train for the 26.2 miles. Train for a complete overhaul... change the way I fuel my body. I told myself I could do this... if I can go from someone who couldn't run a mile to someone who can run 26.2 miles, then it can be done. I'm not getting any younger, and I've reached a time in my life where if it's ever going to count, then it's NOW.

But then (and here's the meltdown part) Halloween happened. That big bowl of chocolate on the kitchen counter called my name SEVERAL times and it just could not be ignored. I don't dare to think of how much candy I ate yesterday. I did everything wrong. I didn't run. I ate MORE chocolate at work. I was in a hurry and got a chicken sandwich at Wendy's after work. Had a glass of wine before bed. And I felt like the biggest loser on the planet.

This morning I regrouped. Took a deep breath and asked myself again:

"WHY DO YOU RUN?"

Because I want to be healthy and strong.
Because I want to be proud.
Because you only live once.
Because I want to honor those who have battled illness and lack of health.
Because I can.

Halloween was yesterday and today is a new day. Time to try to be that person I know I can be, if I just make the decision that it's THAT IMPORTANT.

And it is.

'Twas the Weekend Before Halloween

2011-10-31T12:22:00.000-07:00

First things first... a RACE REPORT!!

So the Wicked 10K was a little different this year... our previous group of witches from last year disbanded and so I hitched a ride with my neighbors down to the starting line. Father and daughter had an *interesting* costume, to say the least:

They are blue (obviously) and each wearing a name tag. His says: "My Name is Gene" and hers says: "My Name is Jean." They are the BLUE JEAN/GENE(S). Clever. Perhaps not so obvious to the typical passer by (who probably thought they were from Blue Man Group), but CLEVER.

It was VERY windy and threatening rain that morning, but people were all dressed up regardless. I took a couple of pics of the coolest costumes I saw, but my camera ran out of battery after the third shot.

I waited alone in corral #2 until the start, which was a frustrating one. One would figure that if you're in the second corral you'd be with a faster group of runners. But this race was so ridiculously crowded that there simply was nowhere to break away. When things FINALLY started to loosen up a bit after mile 1, I was pretty disappointed with my 9:20 pace at the marker. So I just tried to turn on the jets.

I was trying to run so fast that I truly started to feel fatigued and could hear myself breathe (i.e., gasp) towards the end. Oh well. I got my PR. My time last year was 55:something and this year I pulled off a 52:22 (av 8:24 pace). I still think I could have done better if I didn't feel like a caged in rat in the beginning.

My stats: I came in 661 out of a total 7,000 participants, 177 out of 4,489 females, and 23rd out of 605 in my age group. I'm happy. Even better, I beat the massive downpour that occurred about 10 minutes after I went into the beer tent.

Later in the day I really felt sore. Which I thought would not be an issue with all of the training I've been doing. And it's not like my time was that stellar; I've gone faster on training runs within this past month. I do think if I broke the run down I would see that I had spurts of faster running that my body wasn't used to... my average pace does not reflect the slow start and my attempt to make up for it by practically sprinting. Take home message: back to speedwork. Yuk.

Anyway, the soreness kind of hurt my long run attempt on Sunday. Made my 13 mile distance in 2:02, but my pace was worse than 2 weeks ago, and MAN did I feel sore! Had to pop the Motrin after that. Ugh.

In other news, we had so much going on this weekend! Girl Scientist #1 went to her school dance all dressed up as.... as....

What exactly would you call this?

Goth/Frankenstein/Princess something-or-other, trying to look menacing:

So hysterical watching a bunch-a 10 year olds trying to dance to "Thriller":

And we carved our Jack-O-Lanterns:

The Man always creates the ultimate Jack:

We FINALLY allowed Boy to attempt to carve his own pumpkin with a KNIFE (talk about scary):

He needed help with the eyebrows...

Note Girl Scientist #2's pumpkin is not featured. A bit of a mishap there. Oooops!

Then off to HallowScream at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg:

The Man takes a picture of us ladies with "Jack"... my face is stark white in the sunlight! BAD photographer!!!

And I just had fun wandering around the park, taking still photos of some of the creepy sights:

Happy Halloween!!!

Don't Pass To the Ghost

2011-10-27T06:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a pretty active day for me. I forced myself out of the neighborhood to do my run, and I find it's always great to mix things up and get away from the "routine" path. I ran a 5 miler in 42 minutes, which is close to a PR for me for that distance I think. It's weird... it doesn't SEEM like I'm going any faster. Guess that's a good thing. But I'm not going to tell a lie. I was tired when I was done and had to catch my breath. Then I walked around for a bit afterwards for about two more miles, just to get the different leg muscles moving a bit. The walk felt great.

Later in the day I went on a 2 mile run with Girl Scientist #1 and her volleyball teammate, "L". This was "L"s first run in... well, maybe forever and she tired out at 1.5 and had to walk a bit. Her parents want her to get in shape for the upcoming season. "L" is a very tall girl... at 11 years old, she is almost my height (5"10)... and she will be a volleyball superstar one day. If she can get some speed with that big, strong body of hers she will simply be unbelievable. At 10 years old, Girl Scientist #1 is a third of "L"s height, and has a completely different frame. Speed isn't her issue... it's strength and power. She will NOT get any of that from me.

Speaking of volleyball, the Man and I played our first games for the winter indoor league last night. There's a new guy on our team who's a monster at the net and an all around ball hog. I was the worst player on the team, and I got most of my balls taken away from better players. For a lot of the games, I stood around on the court like a fool and watched everyone else play ball. I felt like a ghost. It was so hard for me to keep smiling and have a good time. It's just me, who I am. I always want/wish I was better at volleyball. I love the sport so much, but I basically suck. Everyone around me knows it, and tries to make up for my weakness, and I HATE being the weak link. I know I have a bad attitude, and I wish I didn't, but there it is. Man, does it make me grumpy. After we got home the Man snapped at me, "If you don't like volleyball, then you just shouldn't play."

I DO like volleyball. I love it. I DON'T LIKE being bad at it.

I know what the solution is... find a group of gals who are basically my level and play with them. I might actually get some play time and build my confidence. Maybe one day I will.

Until then, I will stick to running. It's just me by myself out on the road, competing with a clock. My only teammate I could let down is my own head.

Oh, the uric acid level came back and it was normal level for a female human. Above normal if I was a dog. So do I have gout? Well, I guess I still could but I probably don't. Probably have that hallux rigidus condition and need a good podiatrist and some orthotics.

The Wicked 10K the day after tomorrow...

A Team Player

2011-10-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, it is my best friend's birthday today.

It is the Man's big fortieth today. So funny. I have a hard time thinking of HIM as being 40 years old, but I have no problem seeing me as almost 42. I guess he'll always be that young buck I met in college in my heart and mind.

I'm so lucky to be with him, I couldn't put it into words.

So... today I chatted on the phone with the local Team in Training coordinator. I won't be able to make it to their informational meeting tomorrow evening (go figure) so I wanted to get as much scoop as possible. I'm pretty excited about what he told me!

Starting early November, the team running the Shamrock Marathon will be meeting once to twice weekly until the race. We will be assigned a coach who will go over our experience/history and then ask us about our goals for this race.

With my first marathon, I just wanted to finish (and hoped I would come in under 5 hours). I didn't care if I walked. And I did walk. But... I finished. In under 5 hours.

With this second and upcoming marathon (OBX) next month, I want to finish (of course) without walking. If I kept my average pace to 9:30, I could finish in a little over 4 hours. That would be a success.

Depending on the outcome of OBX, I may set my goal in March of finishing in less than 4 hours. Crazy, I know. But... maybe, just maybe... with some personalized coaching, anything is possible.

I'm pretty excited about being a member of a team, making new friends, and doing all this for such a worthy cause. If you think fighting blood cancers is a worthy cause too and you'd like to support my efforts at the Shamrock, please click on my fundraising page (I know, I know, shameless promotion... but if it saves someone's life, I have no shame in doing it).

Okay, so I still have very sore big toes. I had my technician draw my blood yesterday for a uric acid level. Yes, veterinary diagnostic labs can run that test, too. I don't need my family practitioner who thinks waiting 3-4 weeks is appropriate for a patient who has a painful problem. I realize I could still have gout even if the test results are normal, but it sure would be convincing if the levels were high. I could just have hallux limitus, which means I've paid way too much money for shoes that don't give me enough support and that I have incorrect running technique.

The Man is HORRIFIED that I have taken my own X-rays and drawn my own blood sample. He thinks a REAL DOCTOR should do these things, because clearly I'm an idiot straight out of "Veterinary School For Dummies." I will NOT be prescribing my own drugs, I assure EVERYONE (I hate meds), but I happen to think testing my blood for uric acid was not a dumb idea.

Off to bake a birthday surprise because I went to the Baking School for Dummies...

Life According to My Cell Phone

2011-10-24T04:14:00.000-07:00

Ever just decide you're gonna review all of the photos you have stored up on your cell phone? I did that this weekend and when I stopped to think about what a person might think if they picked up your cell phone and snooped,... how revealing it would be about your life and your interests!

My lunch:

A patient with a very unfortunate problem:

A patient bitten by the cute bug:

Another cute bug victim:

An abandoned little gosling brought in by a concerned citizen:

A beverage:

My daughter at the amusement park:

Sleepyheads:

Band playing at Fourth of July:

Girl Scientist #2's sculpture of me:

Harris Teeter boarded up for Hurricane Irene:

The Man's artwork on Boy's bedroom wall:

I was so disgusted I took a picture of the advertisement:

The Man in his glory:

The Man's "little" note for the kids on the first day of school:

A wound on a Dachshund's belly I wanted to monitor:

Girl Scientist #2 and her baby cousin:

That wound a week later:

A "white" Scottie (no, not a Westie):

My new haircut:

A Beagle/Bulldog pup (CUTE ALERT!):

A book I wanna read:

Our new T-shirt for our league volleyball team:

And tons of fun with a new app:

Hope it's a good week.

Didn't get my full 20 on Sunday... made it to 14, but my pace was good. I'm still optimistic. My toes are are still ouchy, but I will endure.

Where's The Beef?

2011-10-21T09:40:00.000-07:00

Prepare to be pretty grossed out.

Here's a picture of my feet. Ewwww!

Maybe it's hard to appreciate (some googled internet pictures are just downright horrendous) but the bases of my big toes (also known as the metotarso-phalangeal joints #1) are swollen and a bit reddened. And they just plain HURT! Worse yet, I took X-rays of them last night and I have osteophytes in both of them... arthritic changes that seem to be completely consistent with GOUT. @#$%!

The nail in the coffin will be when I get my blood drawn for uric acid levels and they come back HIGH.

This is really upsetting me. But I shouldn't be surprised. I'm chronically dehydrated and eat too much protein. I'm probably damaging my kidneys right now! GOUT. I thought that was an old overweight man's disease. An alcoholic's disease. This is NO GOOD. And certainly not good for my running.

WAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

So time to ditch meat and high purine foods. Not. Easy.

And still trying to run through it. Not. Pretty.

Onto other distractions...

Boy rode the bench for the last two soccer games. I finally got to go to one last Wednesday and it was a nail biter! I got to take a picture of the 6th graders who saw no time on the field... my Little is the one sitting on the far right next to the tall blonde kid... ya know, the one with the feminine 70's shaggy 'do?

It's all good; they preserved their undefeated status and have one last season game next week and then they find out if they go to the championship. We're all freaking out with anticipation.

Craving a tuna sub and praying for pain relief before Sunday's 20 miler...

My Fundraising Page is Up!

2011-10-19T11:58:00.000-07:00

So, I decided to do the Shamrock Marathon with Team in Training next March.

Why not the Nations Triathlon as originally planned?

Well, honestly, it would be too expensive. Not only would I have to work hard to raise the funds, but I would have to get a better bike and more equipment. Given my recent lecture by you-know-who, I'd better stick to something I already have the equipment for.

I am taking portrait pictures in exchange for donations but if you live far away and you believe this is a cause worth investing in, I'd be so honored by your donation. My young cousin lost his fight earlier this year but he remains ever so strong and alive in my heart. I will continue to fight on for him in any way I can.

My Fundraising Page

I Thought They Said "Rum"...

2011-10-19T09:49:00.000-07:00

So I'm still pretty sure I have gout but the pain subsided a bit in the past 24 hours so I decided to go ahead and run. It was such a robotic kind of run... I don't have many of those. You know... where you slip into a pretty comfortable pace that doesn't make you gasp, and your mind starts to wander, because you've been doing this route for the millionth time... and then boom. You're coming up on that last mile and it's just not so bad. Wow.

So the boys won their soccer game last night, much to the extreme delight of everyone. They not only won, they shut them out. This was a team they have not beaten in YEARS. Maybe ever. Not only that, they have shut out every team they've played this year, and there are only two more games left this season. No, Boy didn't play last night. But I can still brag that he's on one of the best middle school soccer teams in the city, right? And I can brag that he has scored two goals his season as a rookie? Yes, I am a proud mama.

So I was in a funny mood this morning and clearly shirking my priorities when I was thinking about what I was going to wear to the OBX Marathon. I was looking at pictures of people dressed up as pirates on their website, when I saw a caption that said, "I thought they said rum." And I just thought it was so cute and clever that I started browsing to see if there was a t-shirt. Of course there is. It could be mine for a mere $35. Wish I could justify getting another t-shirt, but I can say unequivocally that a t-shirt is the very LAST thing in this world that I need. Things that I DO need include: 1) a winning lottery ticket, 2) a potful of gold at the end of a rainbow, 3) a multi-million dollar selling idea, or 4) my own genie in a bottle. Just add 'em to the shopping list, I guess.

Here were my favorite shirts:

After doing some reading about gout treatment options, I've decided that I need to:

1) Become a vegetarian.
How will I survive without my tuna? Turkey? Steak? Ugh.

2) Drink gallons upon gallons of water every day.
Bah. I've tried that idea already. Didn't happen.

3) Take gobs of vitamin C.
Ugh. Supplements. Might as well throw myself under a bus.

4) Never drink a drop of alcohol.
How will I survive Book and Wine Club? No wine? No beer at the end of a race? Seriously? I'll never survive.

5) Cut out fructose.
No fruit when I'm a vegetarian? Wait a minute. This is getting harder and harder.

6) Take medication (colchicine).
Yep, we have it on our pharmacy shelf for Shar Peis that get amyloidosis and fevers. Very tempting to steal the doggie's supplies...

Ah well.

In other interesting (?) news I saw my first episode of Extreme Couponing last night. Okay, I was taking an interest in cutting more coupons recently due to my Extreme Racing addiction. But watching that just simply scared me. There's a line between saving some bucks on your purchase of NECESSARY items for your household and HOARDING tons of crap that you bought just because you got a good deal. Yikes! Some of those guys might need a touch of therapy (like I'm in any position to judge).

Still... the thought of getting a zillion dollars of groceries for nothing is quite intriguing...

Racing to the Poorhouse

2011-10-18T10:08:00.000-07:00

I made a promise to myself that I would not use this blog as an endless whine session when things aren't going perfectly. I wanted to use this as a vehicle for/account of progress, and sometimes I think I stand in my own way too much by complaining when I need to find an excuse. Besides, no one who bothers to read this including myself wants to hear "woe is me."

Having said that, no road to being better at something is smoothly paved. And if you don't learn something about yourself along the journey that truly stimulates change for the better... then why be on the journey at all? We have ups and downs. We're all human.

So, I had a great long run on Sunday (this isn't the "woe is me" part). This is despite two setbacks: 1) I had a crappy week of missed training runs because I was too busy grieving and feeling sorry for myself and decided other things were too important, and 2) I think I may have GOUT! Well... I'm not sure, but the symptoms sure do fit. Both of my first metatarsal joints (where my big toe connects with the foot) are swollen and really painful. At first I really believed it was the increased distance and the fact that I scrunch my toes when I run sometimes. But it's weird... when I googled the symptoms, gout arthritis fit exactly every one... except the fact that I don't fit the typical description of your average gout sufferer at ALL (an older, overweight male who drinks a lot of alcohol). I do, however, eat a lot of protein. And I do feel that I'm dehydrated most of the time. So I can't say that ALL of the risk factors are absent.

Too bad I may not know for sure for a while. It seems my family doctor just can't find the time to see me for almost a month! That is RIDICULOUS. Had I had time to do so last night, I would have taken my own damn X-rays to see if there are changes consistent with gout, but I was too busy with the critters. I think I may have to draw the line though when it comes to tapping my own joint to look for uric acid crystals. No can do. So it's ibuprofen, massage, Voltaren gel and toughing it out until I can see a podiatrist.

So after another long run that I survived (despite my aching toes), I was starting to feel pretty optimistic. And in my typical fashion, I'm always looking for the next great thing to challenge myself. And wouldn't you know it, it was as if my running buddies were reading my mind because I open my Facebook page to see everyone's planning the next crazy adventure. The first of which is this December here in Virginia Beach... the Seashore Nature Trail 50K. That's right, a 50K (31 miles). We figured: hey, what's 5 more miles than a marathon? So I figured, let me see how OBX goes, and if I survive it strong, well... why not??

Then my Ragnar buddies want to do a reunion run of sorts next spring here in Hampton. It's a 24 hour relay run that benefits cancer research. I'm not sure of the details, but basically you form a team and just take turns running continuously for 24 hours. We thought it might be fun camping and hanging out between runs... and benefits cancer research? Wow, how perfect is that?

So this morning as I was chatting with the Man on the phone and excitedly filled him in about our new adventures that we are planning. Since he's always been very supportive of my running I never even considered for a second that he might have a negative reaction. And boy, was it negative. I basically got a lecture about how these races are quickly adding up, and oh by the way, this has tuned into a "sign up for every possible race" situation and it's gotten out of hand financially. The bills for Ragnar are starting to float in and he hasn't seen any action taken to try to get those paid off. I'm out of control. I've fallen off the deep end. I'm way over my head. I've lost my marbles.

Of course, he's absolutely right. Totally spot on.

That doesn't change the fact that I feel like a four year old girl who's bright new red balloon she just bought in the park with her last cent just popped.

So I sulked around this morning... went to the eye doctor and found my vision's worsened yet again, dragged my feet around Wal Mart buying the necessities (I hate Wal Mart but it is the cheapest place around and since I was just told I am a money waster I figured that was where I'd better go), returned something to TJ Maxx that has been sitting in my car for months just so I could add that $10 back to the credit card. Decided I was only going to buy things that I have coupons for and wait 'til Wednesdays so I could double the coupon amount. Considered what would be my second, or even third jobs.

How would I fit my training in?

Anyway.

Tonight's a big night for the Boy. His soccer team plays the one of the toughest teams in the division, and I will miss it of course. They go into this game undefeated. I hope they pull it off.

Boy went surfing for what is likely his last time for the season this weekend. He lasted 15 minutes in the rapidly cooling Atlantic.

His expression as he gets out of that cold water reminds me of someone I know.

The Creep Squad

2011-10-15T13:53:00.000-07:00

Flashback to yesterday: tried to run an 8 miler and it just didn't happen. At about the 5 mile mark I lost my battle to the mental enemy and just walked the rest back home. Kinda lost my mojo this week. Too bad really, because I've been on target with the training plan up until this point. I'm not going to dwell on it. Doing the best that I can for now and hope to have a successful 13.1 training run tomorrow and that's that. The weather should be delightful.

Had fun watching the Boy play soccer this morning and witnessed the most lovely goal he may have ever scored. The middle school training has paid off, no doubt about it. He looks stronger out there, more aggressive. His growth plates are sure giving him problems but he's fighting through the pain. They lost the game by one goal but I was totally fine with it. He played like a pro.

Meanwhile Girl Scientist #2 also had a great day on the volleyball court. Those little ones sure like to celebrate when they get that ball over the net. Love it!

After our sportsfest morning, we decided to hit the Halloween store to select our costumes for this year (yep, we're THAT kind of family).

Since Boy will be twelve in about one month he thinks he's matured into a the next level kind of costume. His first choice:

Nope.

We axed the exorcist.

Then he came up with this cute little number:

We had not only one, but TWO problems with this one.

1) It's God-awful scary and the kids in our neighborhood would need therapy after seeing it. We can't afford to pay for other kid's therapy bills. We'll have enough to deal with when our own kids need it.

2) It was friggin' $45. Are you kidding me? I already have a problem spending $25 per child per year for these silly costumes that they wear only once then throw into a bin to collect dust in the attic. No thank you. Thanks for playing!

So then he pulls this one off the shelf (it's only $25):

And sure, I'm cringing but he begs and begs and begs. The funny thing is, I don't even think he has the faintest idea who Chucky is. Whatever, I'm sick of this. The Man and I just shrug our shoulders and give up. The kid wants to be a murderous doll. Time to call it a day.

I have to admit, it's kind of fun in the Halloween store. The idea of dressing up like a complete freak for just a day and getting away with it. The Man was all about me getting a costume again this year (last time I was a witch... wait a minute, was that a costume, or...?).

So I found this crazy "Victorian Vampiress" get-up on sale. Yeah, I bought it. I don't know what I was thinking.

Definitely need some white make up with dark ruby red lipstick and maybe a blood drop or two running down the side of my mouth. And maybe of an expression of malice instead of looking like I'm about to cry (sorry, it's been THAT kind of week).

Our house is decorated up quite nicely and the kids are thrilled. Last year I didn't put one thing up because I was too lazy to deal with it. This year, I've decided to lighten the mood and distract the kids with the fun stuff. It's working.

The creep squad is ready for Fright Night!

No Regrets

2011-10-13T06:13:00.000-07:00

So, I'm in a strange mood this morning as I listen to Mediaeval Baebes and am trying to go through tons of papers and garbage on the computer hutch (trying to keep very busy). Just thinking about regrets mostly... I have a few. Don't we all? But I found this quote the other day and thought it most fitting:

I have a ton of regret about all kinds of things... from how I handled my childhood and adolescence to the fact that I stink at cooking. When something happens that fills me with sadness or guilt, I tend to start dwelling on those things that I feel deficient in. I think about how I want to change, and how I will go about it.

All I can do is live in the present and do the best I can with each day. I can always wish I was a better wife, better mother, better friend, better veterinarian/pet owner, better athlete... better PERSON. I guess the key is not to necessarily to wish for all to be perfect but to be satisfied with one's best efforts.

Bad things may happen that we may or may not have control over, but I am trying to live my life by the code "if you don't like something, then change it." We can make excuses for everything. But most of the time it comes back to a simple decision to just do it.

I continue to think about my life's continuous blessings and feel full of gratitude.

30 days until the marathon. I took a "rest day" yesterday but I'm back on the asphalt today for 5.

Busy Little Bee

2011-10-12T08:14:00.000-07:00

My little ghost is looming around every corner. I truly feel like he's right there, just beyond my line of sight, but there nonetheless. I know he's watching me like he always does, curled up in a ball on the big, comfy chair with one eye open as he watches me get lost in cyberspace. He's quietly mocking my computer addiction. I know it isn't true but it's what my heart believes, and I'll believe anything that can ease my grief. I know it will get easier with each passing day. Or at least I hope and pray it will.

If you're reading this and you have left a kind word for me here, on Peertrainer, Facebook, or my phone I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart. I feel blessed to have those around me who care about the situation, in particular my children's emotions as they go through such a difficult time. We've pulled together and talked about how we feel, how we grieve, and we talk about the wonderful memories we will treasure and hold onto. This is the second time this year that death and loss has touched our family so deeply. No one said this thing called life is easy and without its low points. It's how we go forward and continue to smile and celebrate that keeps us sane.

And how I will move forward is to keep myself busy. I will be a busy little bee. It always seems to help me forget about myself, my troubles that weigh me down.

Before our family's tragedy, two great things happened. Last Saturday evening our whole family participated in the All Access 5K at the Virginia Beach Amphitheater. This is our city's venue for big concerts... I've seen the likes of Dave Matthews and Coldplay there. The course takes you around the venue, and you can tour through behind the stage and see where the rock stars get ready for their shows. It was a whole lotta fun.

Here are my Scientists... ready to rock:

The Man was ready to rock it, too. Wow, another race. I'm proud of him. Well, maybe not so proud of the goofy sweatband, but a sweaty person has to do what they have to do:

So, Girl Scientist #2 was not ready for 3 miles. That I knew. But she wanted to run so badly, and she didn't want to go it alone. So we signed up for the 1 miler together. At the start, she shot out like a cannonball and I had to call after her. But a quarter of the way into it Miss Sprinter lost her steam. Poor baby was gasping. I hung with her and just talked to her the whole way, telling her not to give up or walk, just keep moving.

She did.

As we approached the finish line, she turned on the jets for a glorious finish:

And came in third place overall with a time of (about) 8:30. I am so proud of her. I came in fourth, by the way, behind my speedy offspring.

Meanwhile, a major showdown was about to take place as the 5Kers got ready at the starting line. Look at my older two Scientists right there in front with the elite runners. How cute are they?

I betcha some of those elitists were pissed that they were there... probably little tripping obstacles in their eyes. But I didn't tell them to move. Rock on little ones!

My neighbors were in the race too. Dad and son signed up for the "Moe's Challenge" where you have to stop midway, eat a burrito as fast as you can, and complete the race. The top male and female finishers won free burritos for a year.

No, neither won, but it sure was fun watching them try!

So the big question of the evening was...

Which of my older kids would beat out the other?

Here's the background: Boy Scientist held the record for the fastest 5K time when he ran with us at the Virginia Zoo earlier this year. But his past two 5K's this summer were a bit disastrous. He has been running hard with his middle school soccer team since his last 5K, but it was completely up in the air what his performance would be like.

Girl Scientist #1, however, had just come off an impressive 5K 2 weeks prior, and her finishing time was only a minute behind her brother's PR.

Nails biting...

So at the 1.5 mile mark, they were neck and neck, basically running together. The Man was about a half minute behind them.

But the winner was...

BOY. He had an amazing time of 24:03, a new PR for him.

But can I tell you how amazing Girl Scientist #1 was? She too, had a PR with a FABULOUS time of 24:55.

All of my kids are amazing little athletes.

And let's hear it for the MAN! He also got a PR with a time of 25:47. If he keeps this up, he will beat me and humiliate me.

And then it was as if the stars were all lined up perfectly. Both Boy and GS #1 got second place in their age groups so they got called up to the stage and received really cool running hats (which I might borrow). And our lovely neighbor who got so sick after the last 5K was back in action and got a PR, and snagged a third place in her age group!

So, all in all it was a perfect evening.

Then... the next good thing happened. I had been battling shin splint pain during the week and was really daunted about my attempt at a 20 mile training run on Sunday morning. But the tenderness was mild at best when I woke up, and I laced up and threw a Camelback on my back and went for it. The weather was good, and the temps were tolerable. I will admit there were "moments"... but I talked myself through them, and the bottom line is I made it. Without stopping, without walking a step. My average pace was 9:30, and yes, I will take it! I succeeded at my first of two 20 milers before the marathon, and I am feeling really, really good about it. I just need to keep up the momentum and not let my mind interfere with what my body has proven it is capable of.

Now... I need to keep buzzing away... keep going, keep moving, keep doing. Move forward as best as I possibly can.

Broken Heart

2011-10-11T06:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how I'm going to get this out. The most horrible thing happened Sunday evening. My beloved dog, my sweet boy, was accidentally hit by my neighbor's car. He was out playing with the kids, and decided... for some crazy reason, he wanted to dart in the road as her car was coming by. He was struck in the chest and a broken rib likely punctured a major vessel. He bled into his chest rapidly and he arrested within minutes. There was nothing I could do to help him. He died in my arms gasping for air as we tried to get him in the car to take him to the clinic. My poor baby, my poor boy, gone. Just like that.

I could have never imagined this. Or how it would affect me. How much love and adoration I had for such a sweet little creature that filled our every day lives with joy. He was the perfect pet for all of us. He was happy, loving, obedient and pure goodness. I couldn't describe a bad trait about him. And he loved all of us... SO MUCH. He adored the kids and would snuggle with them every day, would come into each of their rooms with me as I tucked them in. He always came when we called, always listened. He never chewed or destroyed anything. He was sweet and gentle. He was perfect. And he is gone.

My heart aches so badly I don't know what else to say. It's a hard lesson I wish I never had to endure. I wish I could turn back the clock and protect him. Wish we had never let him out the door without a leash snapped on and tight in our hands. Wish I could tell him one more time that I loved him while he could hear me and wag his little stump tail. This will be one of my life's biggest ironies: girl who protects/saves animals from sickness and harm loses her own dog by a preventable accident. The whole truth makes me ill.

I could write paragraphs and paragraphs about how much I loved my dog. But my heart is weary and weeping and I just can't do it anymore. All I know is that I miss him terribly. And I always will. Always.

Resting with Dexter

2011-10-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

So the diagnosis is in... I have posterior shin splints in my right lower leg, probably from over-pronation and good ol' fashioned overuse. Add to the mix that I was breaking in new shoes this week. Perfect timing, as always. Just as I was trying to psyche myself up for a big 20 miler on Sunday. I haven't given up hope on that run, mind you, but it's Friday and it's pretty darn tender right now.

So I took to my bike this morning and even though I had my tunes, my back felt stiff and I was just uncomfortable. By mile 10 I was just ready to get back home. I know it's not supposed to feel easy, but I felt like an old woman with an aching back who keeps readjusting herself to try to find an acceptable position. Now, my bike isn't the most fancy in the world, but it's not a piece of garbage either. It's a hybrid we purchased a couple of years ago for our wedding anniversary... and I want to say it was originally over $300. Then I went ahead and invested an extra $100 to have it "fitted" for me by a professional. So it's not like it's just an alignment problem. I know I have an extra long back/torso and I'm constantly hunched over... but the discomfort was pretty ridiculous. This is what scares me about triathlons. Swimming in rip currents and murky waters with jellyfish and man-eating sharks, and if you survive that, an aching back bike ride for what seems like an endless amount of miles. I'm sure I would feel differently if I had a better bike... or would I?

I'm not a big TV watcher, but my co-worker talked me into watching the Dexter series. We borrowed her first season DVD's and watched the first one and a half episodes.

It's pretty interesting! A talented forensic investigator who specializes in blood spatter patterns by day, and a serial killer by night... who's victims are the murderers who got away with their horrific crimes. You gotta admit... that's quite a unique premise! You find yourself cheering him on and then you stop yourself and say... wait a minute... he's a vicious KILLER. And he is totally NOT RIGHT in his head! Sure raises a lot of ethical questions about the line between what is right and what is wrong, and what we as a society will tolerate. I bet moral and ethics specialists are going nuts with this.

Yeah, I'm gonna watch the whole series. I'm in now!

Staying Hungry and Foolish

2011-10-06T08:58:00.000-07:00

Woke up to the news that Apple's Steve Jobs had passed away, and got a little teary eyed at some of the tributes I watched. And yet another amazing person is stolen from us by cancer. The man truly changed our world as we know it. My iMac computer may be my most favorite worldly possession, only to be followed by my iPod, my iPhone, and my Nikon camera. My every day life is filled with the technological advances all dreamed up by this unique individual. And boy, did he have some wisdom to pass along to all of us. Take, for example, this quote from his commencement speech at Stanford University in 2005:

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Stay hungry. Stay foolish."

He really believed that you should never settle and live someone else's life, someone else's dream. He also said that you truly know the answer inside of you, of what's best and what the key to your happiness is. Just listen. And we have to know that waiting until tomorrow may be too late. Dream big, act big, NOW.

Speaking of my dreams, I'm pushing myself through this training program and trying my darndest to stick to it by the BOOK. So far, I've been hanging in strong. The problem is, my tendons are paying a bit of the price for my extra effort. Towards the end of my 14 miler on Sunday, I started to feel that familiar twinge on the inside of my right ankle, but it was bearable. Tuesday and Wednesday's runs felt pretty decent ("fast", even) as I tried to break in a new pair of shoes. This morning, however, I felt discomfort even before I laced up, so I put my old shoes back on and hit the road for my 5 miler and all I can say is OUCH. It wasn't excruciating, so I pushed through it... but I'm sitting here typing with my ankle wrapped up in ice, chugging coffee and ibuprofen and hoping for a quick recovery so I can tackle my big feat for the weekend: the first big 20 MILER. Ugh... even typing that out made my heart beat faster.

Got a Team in Training flier in the mail yesterday and got a jolt of excitement (and trepidation, of course, because it's me) about training for the Nation's Triathlon next September. I realize it's almost a year away, but I thought about how my training will have to shift (only a good thing as I see it because the strictly running thing may get old after months and months) and I will have to invest in new equipment (i.e., a zillion dollar bike and wetsuit). Given that I'm always thinking about the next cool gadget I can acquire (I had my eyes on the Nikon D90 for the past year or so now) I have to sit and really ask myself... do I want to keep up with the triathlon thing? Because if I buy a bike like that it had better be because I wanna do these things... more than just once. My first tri experience really doesn't count. The swim got called off and thank God, because it scared me. I didn't have a real bike (well, compared to most of the competitors). The run part was easy... but I've had a lot of practice with that. Would I like triathlons? Rather, would I LOVE them?

So Girl Scientist #1 will be back racing this weekend in the All Access 5K but this time she will have a bit stiffer competition than just her dad. Boy Scientist does not have a soccer game and wants in. So they are all signed up. I don't know who to place my bets on. In fact, the whole thing is freaking me out a bit. I am running the one mile fun run with Girl Scientist #2, and if this tendonitis doesn't calm down a bit, I'll be lucky to make that distance...

My Little Rascal

2011-10-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

So this is a race report and it's TOTALLY not about me. I love it! I attended a race and did not run... I watched people I love run their hearts out and I truly enjoyed every minute of it.

How about this sunrise over the Atlantic ocean on race day morning? I love the fall.

Here are the participants of the Neptune Festival's 35th annual 5K!... my lovely neighbor, Girl Scientist #1, and the Man. Oh, and Girl Scientist #2 thinks she's running too but I had yet to give her the memo.

Daddy and daughter ready to roll.

And they're off! I'd love to say "like a herd of turtles" but I'd be wrong about that!

Soooooo mad about this photo. Here's Girl Scientist #1 running in towards the finish line. Camera wanted to focus on the Old Dominion DUDE instead. I regrouped/refocused, and then the DUDE ran in FRONT of the camera and blocked my view! Grrrrrrr!!!!!

Here comes the Man, looking a bit rough. But he never really trains, so this is to be expected.

And here comes my awesome 16 year old neighbor. She got a PR but man, she felt horrible afterwards...

And so the results came in... my neighbor placed first in her age group with a time of 30:17. She had to miss the awards ceremony because she puked in the grass about 5 times and was doubled over with tummy cramps. I felt horrible for her. I called her mom-ambulance to come ASAP, so she scooped up the poor girl and I accepted her plaque on her behalf.

The Man placed fourth in his age group with a time of 27:05. Not a PR for him, but that's pretty darn good considering how much he despises running. The fact that he even wanted to do it was a victory if you ask me.

Now, as for Girl Scientist #1, she finished her very first race ever with a time of 26:26. Now, I'm gonna turn mama bear here but wow, was it bad luck that she didn't place first in her age group with that speedy time. It so happened that two older girls, a 13 and a 14 year old (one with a cross country jersey) happened to be in her group and they edged her out, one by only 15 seconds. My little one was the third youngest in the whole race. One older guy said he kept calling her the "Little Rascal" because he just couldn't catch up to her. Yeah, dude, she's THAT GOOD.

Luckily, she earned an award and was recognized at the ceremony and King Neptune himself (cough, cough) congratulated her. But even better than all of that, she was so STOKED after that race she immediately asked if I could sign her up for the next one. I swear I saw a gleam in her eye. My girl has been bitten by the running bug and this could be the beginning of a shared passion!

And after the race fun, we celebrated my beautiful niece's first birthday!!! Wow, could it already be a year? She was just born!!! I was just standing in the labor and delivery room when she made her way into this world!

Because my sister's not real conventional when it comes to girlie stuff, there were no fairies, princesses, unicorns or rainbows for this little one's birthday theme. It was MONSTERS.

Of course we dressed up. If you're wondering whether we scared her and she cried, the answer is no.

Love that baby girl!!!!!

So... my marathon training is coming along pretty well! I'm following Hal Higdon's intermediate plan and I've been staying on track. Did a 14 miler on Sunday and I was THRILLED with the pace for the distance. Loving this weather, and feeling pretty motivated at the moment.

How A Year Changes Things

2011-09-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

So exactly this time last year I was in a full state of panic (surprise, surprise) because I was only a little over a month away from running my very first marathon. My training had been spotty at best, and there I was... imagining the worst... the feeling, the terror... of not knowing if I could make it across that finish line.

It's funny how so much can change in a year.

I haven't given this year's marathon much of a thought until yesterday. The D.C. Ragnar Relay ate up all of my attention and my training focus, and here I am realizing that I have a bout a month and a half, THAT'S IT... and then it will be time for this...

This is what I do know. I have run tons more this summer than I did last. I have incorporated hills into my training. I ran up a MOUNTAIN, for goodness' sake. I have already completed a 16 mile run a few weeks ago, and that was the longest training run I did last year prior to the race. I think I have better endurance. I think I have a better attitude. I have the benefit of having run the course before, and knowing where I had my problems. I also know that I can do it, because I did it. I also think I've dealt with running alone better. It's still more motivating to run with a partner, but you can't always find someone with your pace and schedule, so just DEAL WITH IT. Fight through the motivational slumps.

Today I had such a yucky run. It was hot as Hades (gosh, when will this heat and humidity FINALLY hit the road???). I wanted to stop at 3, just throw in the towel. I had a sore throat and a dull headache. I was by myself and no one would have known. The old me would have stopped. Would have just quit. But I told myself I would not walk and make it back to the car and that was FINAL.

Not that I know any of Eminem's songs but saw this and just thought, "YEAH."

And the miracle was, I finished it. When I thought I couldn't, the truth was, I could. And I did. And I was pleasantly surprised by my pace.

So here goes the next few weeks of training for this next crazy adventure.

What a difference a year makes. A year of sticking with it. A year of improvements. A year of goals met.

I wonder what I'll be saying this time next year?

Ragnar: Regrets, Reflections, and Revelations

2011-09-28T07:10:00.000-07:00

So last night I met with some of my neighbor- Ragnar peeps for a glass of wine and a "re-hashing" of our experience. It was especially nice to sit down with the group from the other van that I wasn't in and really sit down and listen to their experiences, their stories.

I also think they really wanted to express to me their disappointment that we were not more of a cohesive team, and they felt regret that we were not able to support each other along the way. They really liked the people in the other van and wished they had more of a chance to hang out and bond. Could we (I) have done a better job... made a better effort to support each other? As team captain and the common denominator for both of these sub-groups, I felt I was a bit in the hot seat and responsible for the blunder.

The way this race has to work is that teams are divided into two groups of six... and the course is divided up such that the first van completes the first 6 legs, rests/eats/pees/poops, etc, then moves on to the next exchange where van 2 will arrive after completing their six legs. Then the process repeats itself until we're done. It's almost as if we were two separate teams that simply converged at the end and called ourselves a single unit as an afterthought.

Van 1

Van 2

And despite the fact that this process takes hours and hours, there's a lot to fit in between those running episodes. We're navigating unknown neighborhoods and terrain, searching for food and a decently smelling restroom with running water... and looking somewhere for a soft spot to lay your head for a few minutes to get a little rest... because Lord knows you are not going to get a good quality stretch of sleep until the whole thing is done 30 plus hours later.

It was simply too hard to be everywhere on the course to support each other, and ourselves. Maybe with better planning, we could have done better.

Now, I was warned of this... we had one single Ragnar veteran on our team that simply said "you won't see much of the other van during this race." It's just the logistics of the thing. But I guess I didn't realize how that would impact the two vans in terms of the team as a whole... looks like many of my team members felt a little disappointed in that aspect. And because I was a Ragnar virgin and had no experience to share with my team, I didn't prepare my teammates properly for this predicament.

By reading many of the post-race comments on Facebook and listening to the stories everyone is telling, I think we all agree this was a FABULOUS experience overall. The adrenaline hasn't really worn off yet and we're all talking about what and where our next team adventure will be... and will we rename our team "Chicken Legs Part Two: Revenge of the Angry Birds" or "The Crazy Mother Cluckers Are Back." The point is, we're still laughing and joking, not cursing or grumbling. No one's nursing a torn cruciate ligament or recovering from a heart attack. The only injury I sustained after running up a mountain are three monster mosquito bites. That's simply a blessing when you consider twelve people running over half marathon distances in hilly terrain, and in the dark, too.

So... the big question... would I do it again?

The simple and quick answer is absolutely.

The more complicated part is that I don't think being team captain was a good decision for me, personally. I do not (nor do I think other people) consider myself a "laid-back" kinda individual, and I worry. A LOT. I worried about everything... from whether we had our vans secured to the most ridiculous details, like whether I packed a plastic knife to spread Nutella on my bagel and whether I brought enough safety pins to pin ribbons on our race bibs. I went into a deep panic when our van was at risk for getting stuck in the mud at one of our exchange points, and I visualized us crashing into the next van as we slid backward, and I would have to explain it to the Man. How my little escapade turned into a financial disaster for my family. I worried about people getting hurt, not being able to handle their distances/runs, losing runners in the middle of the night, about a cell phone slipping and falling into a porta-potty. My biggest fear of all: that my teammates would think the experience SUCKED and that they were miserable and disappointed that they wasted their money and energy on such a crazy event. That they'd hold me in contempt for years to come.

I wanted to be in control over things I could not control.

Point is, I worried through most of the race. I felt responsible for its success. And I stood in my own way. This isn't to say I didn't absolutely love the experience... it will go down as one of my favorite things I have ever done in my LIFE thus far. But I could have made it even better by letting go a bit.

Story of my life. When will I finally learn to take my own advice?

As I look back on all of this now, it's like anything else you go through. You learn about yourself after going through something you've never done before, and hindsight is twenty-twenty. I should have divvied up the responsibilities, should have left my control-freak self in Virginia Beach.

I'll know better next time. This one was never really so much about the running as it was the experience of the human bond and how it can miraculously get you through physical challenges you never realized you could handle.

What the Hill?: The D.C. Ragnar Relay 2011

2011-09-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

Well, I don't really know where to begin.

You know how you can have such an awesome, long story to tell with lots and lots of details that you're totally overwhelmed and can't make a peep? There is no way I can type out here everything but we did make a cool photo album/video slideshow, so for anyone truly interested in our experience than click here.

First, I will say that this race... no, rather this experience, is like no other. It was so much more than an event or a series of runs you've trained months for. It's about meeting a challenge as a team, and when you succeed in that effort the bonds you create leave you feeling truly euphoric.

We all met in Frederick, Maryland last Thursday at a car rental place and picked up our two big 15 passenger vans and drove them to Cumberland. We made it to the Holiday Inn only to find almost all of the housekeeping staff contracted the flu and didn't show up to work, so rooms were not clean and ready. They nudged us into the bar and gave us pitcher after pitcher of free beer while we all went around the table and made introductions.

Our team was essentially comprised of two aspects of my "worlds." Van #1 was made up of my vet school peeps... two of which I haven't seen in 14 years. All I can say is this: nothing amazes me more than when people that haven't seen each other in over a decade can get together... and it seems like not a day has passed by. We look older and our day to day lives are quite different, but we are the same people on the inside... and the characteristics that bonded us as friends those many years ago just haven't changed. I know why I loved these people back in the day, and nothing's changed.

The other van (Van #2) was comprised of my awesome neighborhood/book club peeps. Oh, and a brave and lovely lawyer from West Virginia who I met on an online support group. And a kick a$$ Navy SEAL.

What an interesting mixture of runners!!!

We are CHICKEN LEGS.

After a fun dinner and a lil' van decorating party, we finally had some clean rooms to sleep in, and then the adventure was underway.

Our van had to get up at 4:30 am for a safety briefing and prep for the start. Our first runner was off at a little after 6 am. He came back to report he got lost and took a tumble on the trail. And that was the beginning of it all.

So, I had been fretting and fretting over this first leg of mine. It was loud and clear on the course map description: YOU ARE GONNA DIE. Guess I just resolved myself to this fact and got myself to smile before my turn came:

The ribbon was to honor Navy SEALS we lost in Afghanistan last month.

Michele coaches me before I go: "Run/walk is okay"

The first 3 miles is a non-stop gradual climb. It gets steeper later. AAAAAAH!

So what was going through my mind as I was climbing that mountain???... "Crap! I'm getting slower! Crap! I'm gasping for air! Crap! I have 6 more miles of this! Crap! Crap! Crap!"

Well, that's what I was thinking.

And I may have used stronger words in my mind. More colorful words.

I got passed by two dudes on this run. If you pass someone, apparently it's called a "kill." So I was road kill twice. My first killer said he had been admiring my calves for the last mile or so. I know he was trying to be friendly, but that kinda creeped me out.

The second dude looked like a white Kenyan and he flew by too fast to say a friggin' word. Bastard.

I killed no one.

But I made it to the exchange point.

And she makes it to the exchange alive. 9:58 average pace.

And there's so much more to say after that, because that was only leg 3 out of 36. But I'll have to stop here. Work (and real life) is calling my name.

A quick pic of the entire team:

More later. Proud to be a Chicken Leg.

Runner's World... AGAIN?

2011-09-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

So it really has come down to the wire here. I am packing up for the D.C. Ragnar Relay and leave tomorrow morning. I wish I could say I felt calm, serene, and totally content as I go through the final stages of preparations. But that would be a lie. I'm a nervous wreck. I know better. It's going to be so much fun... as long as I don't make my first leg performance the sole determinant of whether I have a good time or not. At this point, I just don't want everyone to have fun, be safe, and not get injured. I want to take pictures of my teammates swinging rubber chickens around as they make it to their next exchange. I want it to be an adventure we will enjoy looking back on and remembering.

Besides... I have already had the ultimate runner's dream fulfilled. I have now been featured in Runner's World magazine, not once but TWICE.

Okay. Maybe not featured, maybe just mentioned. Okay. Maybe not mentioned, just seen.

I'm in a small advertisement.

In case you would dare want to see a close up of those crazy elves that we were for the Surf-n-Santa 10 Miler last year:

Yep. That's me with my kick a$$ running partner (and sister elf) Shannon, who had the gall to move away to Hawaii where she is training for the Honolulu Marathon and eventually the Kona Ironman.

Training without Shannon has been tough, but I've become at least a bit more disciplined forcing myself to go on long runs alone. I miss her though. She used to make me do horrible things like speedwork at the middle school track that actually improved my times and helped me get a PR in my half marathon that I am so proud of.

Well, enough reminiscing. I've got a car to pack.

The full race report in a few days...

A New Era Has Begun...

2011-09-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

Word cannot describe how shocked and thrilled we are to announce that Girl Scientist #1 is now Vice President of her elementary school! She beat out 7 other candidates! And she did it!!! Truly amazing stuff!

Believe in miracles, people... because my little one was facing such serious self esteem issues over the past couple of years that I wondered if and when we could ever help her overcome them. But day by day she's starting to shed her shy, ultra-sensitive skin and is willing to put herself out there. Running for vice president was entirely her idea... and that in of itself is the sign of a new era for this wonderful little girl.

Victory is hers!!!

I do need to acknowledge the efforts of her awesome supportive staff, especially her dad who helped her write the most awesome and hilarious speech that won the student body over, and my sister who coached her on her delivery... over and over and over again.

I will take credit for helping her come up with a very appropriate campaign slogan...

For any volleyball player going into politics, this slogan is for you.

And the icing on the cake is that Girl Scientist #1's BFF won the election for the BIG position... PRESIDENT. So the BFF's are now the most powerful dynamic duo in the school...

YOU ROCK LADIES!!!

So, basically, the kiddos have made phenomenal accomplishments in the past few weeks. Boy makes middle school soccer team and is handling middle school with dignity, Girl Scientist #1 makes the National 12's volleyball team (again the youngest on the squad), and then wins the vice presidency!!! Here I was, Miss Doubter, preparing myself on how to handle crushing disappointments and my kids have triumphed through their hugest goals of the summer.

Wow. How blessed are we?

But speaking of goals, I am making my final preparations for Ragnar and watched the televised captain's meeting on YouTube this morning. When they started to discuss my portion of the race the director started laughing out loud. He said it was ridiculously hard. That those who make it to the exchange are getting an extra prize for surviving it. I felt a wave of nausea.

My left eye hasn't stopped twitching since.

Not Just a Benchwarmer...

2011-09-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

Just a brief post today. The Boy had his very first middle school soccer game yesterday evening. Didn't know what to expect or what his role (if any) would be. The only thing we knew was that he was not a starter. Duh. But he asked, and the coach told him straight up.

What we weren't prepared for was the absolute slaughter we witnessed. Our first string players were phenomenal! Upon the close of the first half, we were up 7-0! What a perfect opportunity for the 6th grader newbies. They pranced out onto the field. Coach told them they weren't allowed to score unless they passed the ball successfully at least 6 times.

Boy had an opportunity to score but his shot was kinda weak and the goalie stopped it. We all cheered like mad anyway. Two more goals were scored and they just shut the team out. I don't think our goalie made a move or an attempt to save the whole game. 9-0 was the final score. Insane!

I was super impressed with the team. This is going to be a fabulous experience for the Boy.

Tried to run today but the heat (87 degrees), humidity (95%), and smoke from a nearby forest fire did me in but quick. Got a 3 miler in but stopped when my lungs were burning and my breaths were short.

Blah.

Supposed to drop to the 60's tomorrow. C'mon, fall temps!!!! I really NEED you!!!

The Road to Ragnar: Final Days Are Here...

2011-09-14T11:31:00.000-07:00

Needless to say blogging has been low on my priority list these days. The first couple of weeks of school combined with sports practices, company visiting, working, and a nasty case of the cooties proved to be a challenge for my normal routine. But no one likes to read about that stuff. If life were predictable (and I was a more organized and determined multi-tasker) all of my ducks would be in a row and there'd be a general sense of peace and contentment throughout the universe.

But alas, I am a working mother prone to frazzling when my to-do list runs off the page.

And so it is that I am 8 days away from a big running adventure with my friends through the wilds of Maryland and D.C. for 200 miles, and I'm going through my typical pre-race jitters.

This time, my nerves are not jangling just because I have to run 19.5 miles (including up a mountain) in a 24 hour (or so) period... I have come to terms with my training and preparations (I did my best, but I live in the flatlands, so my hillwork was limited). I'll run what I can, walk if I need to, crawl if times get desperate. I'll make it to the exchange points one way or the other. That I know.

But the running part of this event is only one dimension of this wacky endeavor!

What makes me MORE nervous is that as team captain of twelve souls who agreed to go on this crazy adventure with me, I'd better have this thing very well thought out. Questions like "What do I do if I get lost and veer off the trail in the middle of the night?" and "Where will all my gear fit in the van?" and "Where can I buy a rubber chicken?" have all been raised as we're getting down to the wire, and I'm fighting my natural instinct of going with the flow and trying to think out, write out, and plan out EVERYTHING. The vans are rented, the hotel rooms are reserved, the restaurant reservations are secured... but it's a lot to think about. I'm not a born leader, gosh darnit!

But despite my fears, I am truly excited about this! I watched some YouTube videos of teams in previous year's relays and first and foremost, they all survived. Secondly, they actually looked like it may have been a blast (at least the videos were pretty convincing). Most of these people were ordinary, run-of-the-mill folk... not elite ultra-marathoners. I really don't care about what place we come in... if we come in dead last or God forbid, get kicked off the course... if we all had fun it will be a success and a great memory we can all talk about and laugh about when we're recovered.

As far as my own perfectionistic issues, I have had the "talk" with myself. I'll go out there, look the mountain in the eye and say out loud:

Last few days for those fabulous bleacher climbs!!!

Down By the Lake...

2011-09-07T06:33:00.000-07:00

Has it really been a week since I last posted? Darn near fell off the face of the earth.

First things first. The Boy, in his belligerent and in-your-face manner, MADE the middle school soccer team. As an incoming 6th grader, baby!! It's another one of those moments when I feel super humbled and realize that I need to step back from the control panel and just let my kids go forth and amaze me.

Right after the great news, we packed up and drove to meet the Man's family at Smith Mountain Lake in the wilds of southwestern Virginia. My in-laws rented a nice lake house and we spent three days doing nothing but this:

Time to fly!

Grandpa is the coolest!

Our second jet ski adventure... we are HOOKED!

And while there are no pictures to prove it, I ran. The first day I did a 6 miler, and the second day I did a 9 miler. And there were HILLS... steep ones, mind you! It's Smith MOUNTAIN Lake after all! What's even more unbelievable is that I LOVED running there. I guess it was the newness of the place. I watched the sun rise over the lake as I winded around the quiet roads past stunning vacation homes and picturesque landscapes. I actually felt strong... even after getting a case of a sore throat while being there. I was again reminded of why I run. Sometimes if you get in too much of a rut it can really get tedious. But it sure felt great.

We had a nice time. Life is good. And just look at this gaggle of cute kiddos... cousins sitting on the dock after enjoying a great summer vacation.

And now... it's time to hit the books! The Scientists are back in training!!

And speaking of training, I need to get to it. off to Mt. Trashmore to tackle more hills! Two weeks to go!

When a Competitive Edge Cuts Like a Knife

2011-08-31T03:49:00.001-07:00

Well, I probably shouldn't write about this... but I need to. If anything at all it can be a reminder to myself about recognizing my own mistakes and making an effort to fix them. Life is a journey, and we mess up occasionally (sometimes frequently) along the way. The question is: do you know when you've done wrong? And if you do, what next?

I mentioned earlier during my "Boot Camp" efforts that the Boy was going to try out for the middle school soccer team. I had the day written out on the calendar all summer. I thought I was so organized, so prepared. Well, the time arrived last Monday. I was at work, so the Man had to take him. They stood in line a mile long. Apparently, we were supposed to bring a signed form by the pediatrician clearing my son to play. Guess I didn't read the fine print. We didn't have it. In case you thought I was the only parent who made this mistake, I wasn't. But regardless, he wasn't allowed to try out. That was the bad news. And only my first mistake.

The good news (if there was any at this point) was that tryouts are being held all week long, every day. So yesterday I scuttled my rear end to the pediatrician's office and begged and pleaded with my very soul for him to sign the form between appointments. He did, and I had the form in hand. So yesterday we went back to the field, got the okay, and he joined the group of boys and started warming up. Better late than never, I guess.

Okay, so here's the deal. My son is a pretty decent athlete. He's been playing soccer every season since he was five, and in the beginning of his soccer "career" he showed a real knack for the sport, especially on offense. But in the past year or so, the other 11 year old boys started reaching their pre-pubescent stages and shot up in size. My Boy... not so much. The pediatrician calls it "delayed maturation".... i.e., he's short. Way short. We don't believe it's a growth hormone issue, but just a delay in the whole maturing process. He knows it, and I think it bothers him, but we keep telling him that one day he'll catch up to the rest of the pack, it just may be a while. Small consolation for a boy entering middle school... let me tell you.

So despite his athleticism ( the kid can run when he kicks it into high gear), he gets easily knocked around by the bigger boys. So I worry for him... worry about his self-esteem, worry about his physical safety. So I hung around and watched the tryout session. Basically what I saw was this: there were some big boys out there with some serious experience. My son played a bit tentative, not as aggressively as I've seen him play, although I don't think he was the worst out there. The coach pushed them hard for two straight hours. The Boy clearly started to fizzle and I noticed the "look"... the look he gets when he's a bit resigned. It looked like he was toast.

When he walked off the field with me I asked him if he liked the tryout process, totally expecting him to tell me it was a b*&ch. He said it was "fine." That's when I opened my big mouth. I basically said something to the effect of "it looks like you kinda gave up out there." He just hung his head down and didn't say anything. That's when I noticed he was fighting back tears.

And then I felt like I could have thrown myself under a speeding train right then and there. It was absolutely the wrong thing to have said to a child who was probably feeling a lot of pressure as it was and then to have his parent say he didn't look like he was cutting it was an absolute abomination. I told him immediately that I was sorry, but... it's one of those things that you really can't take back once it's out there.

Fortunately, we got distracted by going to Open House at the school last night... walked him through his classes and met his teachers. He seemed pretty upbeat as we drove home.

Last night as I tucked him into bed I repeated my apology and told him that I had absolutely no business criticizing his efforts at tryouts. I explained that I am not even close to a soccer coach, and that his performance completely lies within him and those evaluating him. I know he'll give it his best, and no matter what happens, I'm proud of him. It's hard to make a middle school team, especially the largest middle school in the entire city. I promised I wouldn't say another word about it. He's such a FABULOUS kid... so loving and forgiving (like his daddy) and he just hugged me tight. I hope he doesn't think another minute about me and my stupidity.

So... not only do I need to be more organized, but it looks like I need a big a$$ kicking for allowing my STUPID competitive-freak nature to trickle down to my kids. It's one thing if I want to be a perfectionist for myself (and that needs a whole other posting) but it's a downright crime for me to put that on my kids. I know it. I can say that I'm well intended... that I want the best for my children, and that those kids that are pushed a bit harder tend to do better. But I know the reality. It's HOW you push. If a child gets demeaned in the process, it's a burden they carry their whole life... always questioning themselves, always feeling sub-standard no matter how hard they try. It's a baton I would not like to pass along. No, I really don't want it passed along.

There.

Do I feel better? Not necessarily. I still feel like a big pile of doggie doo doo. But will I try to BE better?

Yes. I will.

The Energy Sucking Storm

2011-08-30T06:53:00.001-07:00

I stole the following pictures from the Virginia Beach Fire Department. While I hunkered down in my house with my Nook and a glass of vino, some enthusiastic photographers were out there capturing the storm coming ashore in North Carolina:

And then the aftermath on our famous fishing pier:

And some beach homes just 10 miles down the road from us in Sandbridge (a tornado struck):

Ummmm... yikes!!! There were also some pictures I saw of my beloved town of Manteo in the Outer Banks half underwater! Horrible!

Anyway...

Ran 5 miles this morning, felt pretty good. Maybe the rest helped. Maybe it was the cooler temperatures. Either way, got 'er done. Crunch time!!!!

The LAAAAAAZY Zone

2011-08-28T13:56:00.000-07:00

No, I don't have any cool pictures from Hurricane Irene. The wind blew. The rain came pouring down. The power was out. The kids were going stir crazy.

But I had my Nook fully charged and was quite content getting lost in the novel "The Invisible Bridge" by Julie Orringer, all day long. Lounging in a big chair in front of the window.

Later the man hooked up the generator to the TV and DVD player and we watched "The Man in the Iron Mask". Back in the day when Leonardo DeCaprio did movies like that (kinda cheezy). I forgot there were sex scenes in that flick. There was an awkward silence during those parts. They may be Scientists, but they didn't ask any questions. They just kinda blushed and stared down at the floor. And we, of course, were too freaked out to say anything. "Anyway... next scene!!!"... Whooooops!

We sustained absolutely no damage to our home or property (except for just one piece of siding that came off and was easily snapped back into place).

So there was no reason in the world why I could not go out for my 18 miler this morning. None at all, except that it was freakin' HOT out there. As soon as the sun came out, it felt like a thick, humid jungle. And I just. Couldn't. Do. It.

Sure, I'm ashamed. But then again, I'm not going to beat myself up about it. My routine was shaken up by a stupid hurricane and there are worse disasters than this. Next week is a new week with cooler temperatures. We head to Smith Mountain Lake on Thursday, and I plan on doing some serious elevation climbs while I'm there. I swear.

Yawn.

The Calm Before the Storm

2011-08-26T04:27:00.000-07:00

When I look outside the window this morning, it's hard to believe that in about 24 hours we'll feel the effects of Hurricane Irene bearing down on us. The sun is shining between white puffy clouds. The calm before the storm.

I think we're pretty prepared. The gas tanks are filled, the generator is primed, the batteries are stocked, we have a bunch of candles... my only hope is that we don't lose power for days on end. And of course I hope nothing gets damaged.

We debated about leaving town, but I think the Man is worried that if glass breaks or something, he won't be here to control the damage. We're about 10 miles from the shore and we are not in a flood zone. We'll see what the latest predictions bring today.

I think the biggest thing I'm afraid of is hanging around the Scientists when they start losing their minds without electricity. Obviously computers and internet will not be accessible, so it will be like denying them oxygen or water. Who am I to make fun? I will suffer as badly as they will, I'm sure.

Sadly, the East Coast Surfing Championships and all of the associated activities (8K, beach volleyball tournament, etc) were cancelled. What a bummer. At least the Boy caught some waves earlier this week, even though they weren't anything to write home about:

So, I finally watched the movie "Into the Wild" the other night. It's sad that my sister has been telling me for years to read the book and see the movie, but for some reason I just hadn't done either. Since the current movie selection offerings seemed to be soooooo horrible, we leafed through some older lists and found it. I was so tired when we sat down to watch, but wide awake and troubled after it was over.

For those who don't know the story (which is true and based on real events), a bright, intelligent twenty something college grad decides to give all of his money to charity, ditch all of his worldly possessions, and head out into the Alaskan wilderness to sustain himself on the land. He cuts off all communication with his family who knows nothing of his whereabouts or intentions. He hitchhikes, takes odd jobs to fund his journey, and finally makes it to his destination and sets up shop in an abandoned bus in the middle of nowhere. Months later moose hunters find his emaciated corpse in that bus.

The movie provides a bit of background as to how and why this kid decides to do this. I think some people (my Man included) walk away from the story and say "What an idiot. He asked for it." I walked away feeling more sympathetic; he desperately needed to find meaning in his life and thought that connection with nature was more important than connection with other human beings. On his journey he meets some amazing people that have positive impacts on him. But he doesn't truly realize the importance of his connections to them until it's too late.

The story made me think so much of how our mind will take us to places we're so sure we should be, but our "big picture" can get lost. We lose perspective on what is most precious in life. Those around us (even family members and those we love) can hurt us, but we need to realize that there are meaningful relationships and wonderful experiences to be had if we allow it. Humans are meant to be social; isolation is against our nature. We need our quiet and refective moments, but we need the positive influences of other people in our lives.

And...always respect nature. Fitting advice given the current local forecast. Never underestimate the power of the forces of nature.

If you're on the eastern seaboard and reading this, hope Irene is kind to you and leaves you unscathed. Be safe!

Falling, Falling, Falling...

2011-08-25T04:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we decided to take a family day (plus a little neighbor) and hit the amusement park. The weather was perfect... sunny but practically no humidity, and because we decided to go on a weekday, the crowds were very minimal. We didn't have to wait at all to get on any of the rides.

And they finally opened their newest attraction... the Mach Tower.

This ride has only been open to the public since Saturday. Only four days.

It takes you up...

And up...

And up. Waaaaaay up. You can see the whole park (and most of the world) from the top and when I was up there I felt like I might pass out. It was a sensation I didn't exactly enjoy.

When you're finally at the top, there's an eerie pause. And then this horrible vibration that sounds like the contraption might come apart occurs, and I felt like this is it. We're going to die on an amusement park ride that was not well tested enough. I thought about the recent earthquake (which I didn't feel). Did it damage the foundation? Are there cracks in it like the Washington Monument? God, help us!

Then the thing plunges to the earth and I let out what I thought might be my final scream.

But... we survived. The Man and I decided we finally found a ride that made us truly scared, and the kids decided they had a new favorite. They went on it again and again and again.

The Man and I didn't.

We did actually have a nice day once we knew we would survive it.

On our way out of the park we enjoyed our interactions with the critters...

A Cuban Rock Iguana:

Colorful Lorikeets:

And a wide eyed screech owl:

So needless to say we're keeping a very close eye on Hurricane Irene. We've been in this situation several times over the past few years, and we have been fortunate to avoid the "big" one. It almost gives you a false sense of security when you've had several scares but nothing comes of them.

But we have a generator, lots of water, lots of batteries, etc. We will most likely try to stay home. The Man can't imagine leaving town during the weekend of the East Coast Surfing Championships. At least the waves should be pretty impressive!

How can I run 18 miles in a hurricane? Leave it to nature to mess with my long run Sunday!

Road to Ragnar: The Last 5 Weeks

2011-08-23T04:45:00.001-07:00

So last night was the first night in what seems like months that we slept with the windows open. Fall is around the corner now, and I can feel it... and I'm so ready for it.

We love summer here. We practically live at the beach, and keep ourselves crazy busy with all sorts of fun outdoor activities. But the heat and humidity has been just horrific, and I have to admit that running in it has been borderline agony for me. One shouldn't wake up and start panicking about the exhaustion he/she will feel during a run, and the pouring sweat, and the gasps for air. I know running is supposed to be challenging, and I know that some people feel a bigger sense of accomplishment when they push their limits physically in extreme conditions... and to some extent I do as well. But if I'm being honest with myself I will just have to come clean and say it: I HATE running in the heat.

I'm done with it. That is all.

So this is it. Ragnar is basically ONE month away. 30 days. A little less than 5 weeks of training left. This week will be a biggie... the biggest distance to tackle. Sunday I have an 18 miler. That's about the time Hurricane Irene is supposed to hit our shores. Perfect.

Since our team name is "Chicken Legs" I downloaded some frenzied chicken images (and as a bonus, turkeys as well) to use on our team T-shirts. Can't say that this is too far from how I truly feel. Art imitates life.

Am I being a bad mama if I say that I'm a little excited about the kids going back to school? Will my parenting license be revoked? I love them to bits and pieces, but because they really aren't old enough to be on their own I can't just pack up, jump in the car and go somewhere different to run several miles. I need to mix things up to stimulate my training, and running the same @#$! neighborhood loop is getting sooooooo old. Waaah!

Yes, I know I'm a parent first and a runner last. Yes. I know.

And soon I'll be crying that they never want to be with me and their childhoods went by way too fast.

Is there no end to life's ironies?

On a big and happy note, Girl Scientist #1 made her club's 12's national volleyball team. We believed she could, but we were a bit nervous for her. We found out Sunday at dinner and her smile is as wide as the ocean.

Time to get out there and take advantage of cooler temps today.

Ride the Wave: The Surfer's Healing 5K

2011-08-21T04:24:00.000-07:00

We woke up to an absolutely gorgeous Saturday morning. The temps were bearable, the sun was rising over the ocean, and we were on our way to the starting line of the Surfer's Healing 5K.

Me and my Boy.

My neighbor signed up with her 16 year old daughter... it was her very first race. They've been practicing at the high school track with us this past month:

AND... my friend and vet school classmate Sam came back to the boardwalk for his second ever race, and brought his boy, too. I think it's safe to say he's officially caught the "bug."

And wouldn't you know it. As soon as that big sun rose, the temps soared as we were standing at the starting line, waiting for the horn to blow. I felt myself start to sweat before I even broke out into a stride. The humidity truly was awful. Well, it's August. What did we expect?

I have to admit that my legs were aching a bit and felt a bit heavy since I ran the day before the race... something I typically don't do, but since Ragnar is so close I felt I had to. So I didn't feel my best per se, but I didn't feel awful. I spent a lot of time encouraging the Boy, who was horribly nervous. He had to "give up" the last race, and he wanted redemption... but was worried he would not make it. I told him to just hang on, do his best and leave his negativity behind.

And we were off.

The Boy was with me for the first 1.5 miles, but I think I lost him at about that point. Once I was moving, I was moving. I didn't look at my pace, only my distance on my Garmin. I was tired and hot towards the end.

The Boy ended up walking a bit but sure enough, there he is running towards the finish:

And my friend's son (aka "Dill Pickle") finished his first 5K!!! My neighbor said he was the inspiration for her to cross that finish line:

Since Girl Scientist # 1 had volleyball tryouts immediately after the race, we had to pack up and go almost immediately afterwards. I received an email a couple of hours after the race with my results:

There were 34 finishers in the Female 40 to 44 age group and 425 finishers in the race.

Your overall finish place was 80, your age group finish place was 2 and your gender finish place was 21. Your time 24:39.31 gave you a 7:57 pace per mile.

Not bad! I actually think I may have gotten a trophy if I stuck around. But I missed a PR by about 0:06 seconds. Not even one measly second!!! What-evah!!

The Boy finished in about 31 minutes... I was really proud of him. My friend Sam got a PR, my 16 year old neighbor finished in 30 minutes, and her mom finished in 34 I think? Everyone had a great... but hot and humid... race.

Until the next one...

Meanwhile, Back at the Track...

2011-08-18T08:22:00.000-07:00

Oh, high school bleachers, how much I missed thee... not!!!!

So, I'm back to my "hill" work... and wondering whether this is truly preparing me for running up a mountain for 5 straight miles.

Probably not. It still exhausts me anyway. Guess it's better than not running any "hills" at ALL, then showing up on race day like a deer in headlights. A very intimidated and untrained deer who sees a near death experience coming its way.

In any case, it gets my heart a-poundin'... so it must be doing something.

Starting next week, we have exactly one month left. I say this not to scare myself, but to remind myself to get all things in order. A well planned race is a good race. Watched a YouTube video from a team last year that a teammate posted on our Facebook page. All of the guys are smiling. One guy said he was far from an athlete, yet he was just joking and laughing. Even better, he's still alive.

Didn't I feel terror and apprehension before the marathon? And even though I wasn't as prepared as I could have been, I made it, and signed up for another one???

It's all good.

Sweet Sixteen

2011-08-16T06:27:00.001-07:00

Sometimes we just can't take ourselves too seriously. I need to constantly remind myself.

I had a great Sunday. Originally I planned to do a long run on the trail with Ragnar teammates but it rained heavily Saturday night and we were afraid the trails would be pure mud. Worse yet, that night we were all moaning and groaning about the idea of getting up at 5 am. It just wasn't in me. I knew I'd be miserable and a horrible grump. So we all flaked out and I hoped I would have enough energy the next morning to get at least some form of a long run in.

I got up around 7 am, and just felt good. The temps weren't bad, the sun was behind the clouds, and I felt somewhat energetic. I announced to the Man that I was going to go for it... the full 16. I planted a cooler with water in some shrubs at the halfway point, packed some Gu Chomps in my spy belt and I took off.

I just took off slow... that's all I know. If I kept myself at a comfortable pace, I knew I could last longer. I listened to 90's rock songs and felt good! Stopped for water at 7 miles, then stopped again at 13, then made my way home for the final 3 in a cooling drizzle.

What I'm excited about is this:

1) I did it on my OWN. I always struggle mentally to go the distance when I'm by myself. I get bored and psyche myself out. I just told myself I was still strong, I could handle it. For once I listened.

2) Last year when I was training on my own for the marathon, 16 miles was the longest distance I could endure. And what happened? I hit a massive wall at mile 17-18 during the race, and the last several miles were HELL. I KNEW that if I had prepared myself better, I would have finished stronger. I feel like I'm ahead of last year this time around. I have 3 months left, lots more miles planned. I want this time to be different. I want to be prepared.

3) I kept my pace sub 10 min/mile the whole way! I think my average pace was around 9:45. That is HUGE for me! That means I've brought my "happy pace" down a bit from last summer, and progress is progress.

I finally feel a surge of confidence as we're coming down the homestretch for Ragnar training. We have about 5 precious weeks left. I'm not gonna kill myself, but I really, really want to prove to myself that I can handle the training.

The rest of Sunday was lazy and wonderful. The rain came and poured down and we couldn't go anywhere but stayed holed up in the house as a family. We did chores, I read "The Winter Sea" on my fabulous new Nook, then we enjoyed a nice sit down dinner as an entire group. That never happens. Then we plopped down in front of the TV for a movie. A perfect day!

Monday... reality hit. I worked all day long and I do mean all day long. It was an intense and sad day. Lots of seriously ill critters. To finish the day off we had to do emergency surgery on a bulldog that appeared to be hemorrhaging into her uterus. When we opened her, we found abnormal anatomy like I'd never seen in my entire career. Her innards were all connected... not like adhesions, but truly connected (muscle and circulation). I was sweating bullets as we tried to remove what tissue we could without harming anything else or disrupting function. I didn't get home until after 10 pm.

Therefore, I missed the FINAL on the beach. The Man and Girl Scientist #1 played for the beach volleyball Co-Ed 4's championship, but they lost by just a few points. They were down a man (only played with 3) and the Man said there was a hitter on the other team that was hard to stop. Oh well. They had a GREAT run and I'm sooooooooo proud of them!!!

And a million thanks to my friend Tracey who went out there with her family to cheer them on! She took this cool pic of my daughter serving the volleyball with her cell phone:

And I missed a dinner at one of my absolutely favorite restaurants, Lunasea!! @#$!

The good news... bulldog is doing well this morning and urinating normally. Still waiting on her to poop normally too. And I got in a 5 mile run listening to the Beatles. The weather was perfect!!!!

Hat Trick

2011-08-13T06:16:00.001-07:00

The good news: I got my two runs in yesterday, and I kept my pace fairly consistent. The bad news: I was feeling pretty tired and by the time we made it down to "Happy Hour" at the beach, I was just downright grumpy. I tried to get in on the volleyball games, but just couldn't seem to enjoy myself. I was in the mood to really play since I never get to, but everyone else was just in the mood to kinda goof off, or in my Man's case, mouth off. I went to bed with a case of hurt feelings and when I woke up I had a horrible tension headache and a sore neck. Then I tried to go for a 5 miler to "work off the stress" but found that the running just added to it. I cut myself off at 3, made my way home, and decided that today I just need to CHILL OUT.

Ever realize you have a huge character flaw and even though you KNOW it, you have a hard time changing it?

I'm always wanting more of myself, expecting more of myself, then feel a HUGE letdown when I realize that I can't meet my own standard. I set the bar so high that it's quite a fall when I come tumbling down. It's all in my own head, of course. Life sure would be a lot simpler if I had decided that it's all about the journey and not the results at the finish. We all can't be winners and good at everything. It's not that we shouldn't keep trying to do our best, but we should simply be happy with our efforts. And if someone you love says something that makes you feel stupid or small, shake it off, because we all say things at one time or another that we shouldn't. To mull over it, analyze it, just isn't healthy. Be the bigger person. Don't take life so seriously.

Speaking of non-serious fun, I took the Scientists for a romp at the mall yesterday. After hanging out at Old Navy for a bit we found some trendy hats to try on:

Gosh, I hope no one with lice tried those hats on before we got to them. Eeeek. You have to think about these things.

Off to do basically NOTHING today. I'll need all of the energy I can sequester for that long run tomorrow.

Barbie is a Champion

2011-08-12T06:23:00.000-07:00

So I am the proud mama of a beach volleyball co-ed doubles champion.

If I was the type of person to brag (who, me?) I would mention that my 10 year old faced some tough competition, but the tiny 65 pounder proved to be a hustler and consistent setter for her daddy and they pulled it off! Their opponents in the final were a tall dad and his 14 year old daughter (awesome team with EXCELLENT sportsmanship, BTW) and it was so fun seeing them play so well.

After the match they went to the league director for their prizes, which were T-shirts. I asked him if he had a Barbie size.

He said: "No, because Barbies don't typically win."

She'll have to use her T-shirt as a nightgown.

More from my "Instagram Life"... actually, my "Instagram Patients":

How 'bout those amazing green eyes on good ol' Boris:

Bodhie has a face only a mother.... and the rest of the world... could love:

Here is heroic Peanut, a blood donor who will try to lick you to death:

So I just got back from the first of what I hope to be two 4 milers. The first went great. Temps were down this morning but it was still humid as could be. A slight drizzle felt kinda wonderful. I was able to drop my pace to where I had been prior to the heat. It felt great and I was encouraged.

Sunday I have a 16 miler. I want more than ANYTHING to make the distance. I haven't gone beyond 10 in a long while, and I CANNOT FORGET that I have a full marathon coming up in 3 months! ONLY THREE MONTHS!

Time to Whine... I Mean Wine

2011-08-11T09:13:00.000-07:00

My head still hurts a bit from last night's book club adventure. We met at a local restaurant called Firebrew which is a big wine place. They sell "tastes" (and more) of all sorts of wines. We had fun discussing "Firefly Lane" by Kristin Hannah and eating some delicious appetizers too.

Don't Tracey and I look like we're having too much fun?

Some other "Happy Bookers" (and two Ragnar team members):

Thanks to Tracey, I am now the proud owner of a Nook!!!! I love the fact that she wanted to upgrade. I may have gone on being the only book club member (under the age of sixty) on earth without an eReader. I feel so trendy now.

As far as running, well...

I didn't run on Tuesday and I can't remember why. Wednesday I went for an intended 8 miler and it ended up being only 7 with a couple of stops. I was tired and out of breath. This morning I managed a 5 miler without too much trouble. Notice I didn't mention hills or bleachers. Haven't done 'em. Tomorrow: TWO 4 milers. Sunday: a 16 miler. That's not a type-o. Eeeek.

No more whine. No more wine, either.

Tackle... A Dream or A Dog's Nostril

2011-08-09T04:37:00.000-07:00

Another crazy busy weekend.

So many things on my mind.

First... my thoughts are with friends and families deeply affected by the loss of some of our brave Navy SEALS in Afghanistan. While I didn't know any of the men lost personally, we have good friends who did. And one of our Ragnar team members knew them very well. Many of them were locals and the Navy family is trying to rally support for those left behind by this tragedy. So devastating. Yes, I know it comes with the job description. But that sure doesn't make it easier to accept.

Secondly, I woke to the sad news that Diana Nyad had to abandon her attempt to set a new distance world record in swimming at the age of 61. Sunday night I was tossing and turning thinking about her in the ocean trying to swim 103 miles, in the dark, with sharks and other threats all around her. I thought about my pathetic fear of swimming 1000 meters just offshore here in last year's sprint triathlon. I had really, really hoped she was going to make it.

For those who don't know her story, she is the world record holder for swimming the longest distance ever by a woman or a man. She swam from the Bahamas to Florida successfully.

In 1979 she attempted to break her own record by swimming from Cuba to Florida.

She had to get pulled out of the water due to dangerous seas with swells reaching 8 ft.

She decided, 32 years later, to try again.

I hope I look that good in my 60's.

She has been training hard for the past two years and said she was in better shape now than she was in her 20's.

So... she jumped in the water on Sunday and began her epic swim. But apparently strong winds/currents blew her off course and she started experiencing bad shoulder pain. I read that she was vomiting when they pulled her in the boat. By that time she had made it halfway there. Over 24 hours!!! No matter what, this woman is a hero in my book. Yeah, it may seem crazy to some, but I absolutely LOVE the fact that Diana proves to us what a lot of us don't believe: that age is not an obstacle in reaching some amazing physical feats. Believe in your body. Treat it well. Stay active. Stay vital. Go and conquer your dream. Bet you a million bucks she's thinking of when she should start training again.

Diana, you're an INSPIRATION.

Speaking of dreams, my Girl Scientist #1, my neighbor's 12 year old daughter, the Man and his "volleyball spouse" (i.e., his regular doubles partner) pulled off a stellar win in the Co-Ed 4's beach volleyball semi-finals last night! It was ah-may-zing! They beat a pretty solid adult team and the girls were floating on air afterwards! They go to the finals next Monday, and if they win they will be the CHAMPIONS out of 19 teams! Win or lose, I will brag all year long about how awesome they are.

So yesterday at work, just as I was about to finish off my marathon shift, a Lhasa Apso comes in to our emergency service with a pretty interesting body piercing gone awry:

Oooops! Someone left their tackle box open... and lil' snoop here decided he'd like to sniff at the biggest lure in the bunch. The humungous hook pierced through his nostril and into his upper lip:

And some people pay good money to have this sorta thing done.

The hook was so thick we had to use bolt cutters to snap it in half. Don't worry, doggie slept through the whole thing. Good as new when he woke up. Now he won't have to go through life looking like he swallowed a big red bird.

My training weeks start on Tuesdays... time to get my groove on!

These Are The Days

2011-08-05T05:20:00.000-07:00

Summer days are just flying by and we found ourselves down at the oceanfront yet again, watching the Man and our little beach ball pro take on tough competition in doubles.

I brought the camera in hopes of taking some great shots of these two in awesome action but the lighting stunk. The sun was setting and it was overcast. I tried to catch a couple shots anyway.

The volleyball looks elliptical in this shot. I wonder why? Hit so hard it was flattened?

Her sets were almost always on the money.

And her hustle was phenomenal.

I absolutely love watching them.

After leagues we wet down to the Baja Cantina to celebrate a friend's birthday. Ironically, it was so packed there we didn't even get to sit near him or talk to him. At all. Happy Birthday.

It took over 50 minutes to get our food. The kids were about to fall asleep at the table, but the fish tacos were pretty yummy.

Look at how the Girl Scientists got there:

9 miler planned today. Trying to find my mojo. Happy Hour at Sandbridge tonight. These are the days to remember.

Bleacher-ed Out

2011-08-04T04:03:00.000-07:00

Wow! I found a picture of (*a lot younger*) girl doing bleacher climbs!!

Actually, I'm starting to see bleachers in my sleep. I had planned an 8 miler yesterday but my neighbor talked me into going back to the track and running with "the girls." I'd rather hang with friends and inspire young ones, so I bagged the long lonely run and stood before the bleachers again. The ladies ran the track while I ran up those #$%! stairs.

We had fun yesterday though. We all ran our milers on the track then finished up with some speedwork... a timed 400 meter run at our best pace. I was impressed with everyone. We all basically did quarter miles in less than 2 minutes. Even my 7 year old!!! And it was INSANELY hot out there!

Then we finished off with sit ups and squats. Mama's boot camp is relentless.

Later that night I watched the Man, Girl Scientist #2, and my neighbor's 12 year old daughter play beach volleyball and they beat the only remaining undefeated team in the league (of all adults). I was sooooo proud of them I couldn't believe it. My daughter played like a pro. A PRO, I tell ya! I'm just so amazed. The girl's barely 10 years old. Tourists walking on the boardwalk stop, stare, and comment while she's playing. I'm sorry, but a mama's gotta brag when a mama gets an opportunity. I keep wondering... will she just keep getting more incredible over time, or will she burn out, lose interest? Who knows? No crystal balls here. Just enjoying the show while it's happening!