Half-Marathon...the Aftermath

Done!

2 hours, 55 minutes, 28 seconds.

Not a world record, not last either.

I'll take it.

I got to run with my friend Chrisy.  This is her 9th or 10th 1/2 marathon.  She considered this a training run because in January she is taking the Disney Goofy Challenge.  That is a 1/2 on Saturday, and a full Marathon on Sunday.  (She's goofy)  We also ran with Angie.  But she took off after mile 2 and finished about 15 minutes ahead of us. (Show off)

The first 7 miles were great.  We were doing a good pace that would have us finishing the race in under 2:45, but there were lots of hills.  Hills suck the life out of you.  Also, I had to pee.  At that point, I would have rather peed my pants than stop to use a porta potty.  Plus, there were lines.  But again, hills suck the life out of you and trying to not think about having to go to the bathroom only makes you think about going to the bathroom.  It also became clear that our pace had slowed, and 2:45 wasn't going to happen.

Around mile 9, I got some Gatorade and found a bunch of port a potties with no lines.  I haven't had Gatorade in years because I think it's gross.  But it tasted wonderful, and helped my get through the next few miles.  But there were still more hills.  Stupid freeking hills.

Around mile 11, I was struggling again.  Nothing was hurting, but I had a problem keeping 1 foot going in front of the other.  I did a lot more walking than I wanted to.

Around mile 12, I was determined to run all the way in to the end, but it was a lot harder than I wanted it to be.  More walking.  Except when I saw the race photographers.  I didn't want to have any pictures of me walking.  But we did run in across the finish line.  I was glad to be done, but I felt like I had to puke.  But I didn't.

After you finish,they give you your medal.  (YAY!)  Then water, Gatorade, chocolate milk, and a bunch of different food.  Too much food actually.  I couldn't hold it all in my hands, so I had to carry it in my shirt.

We met up with Angie and our friend Crystal.  Crystal wasn't running the race, but she was on hand to be our cheering section.  She did the entire route on her bike with a "quiver" full of funny posters, stopping ahead of us to ring her cowbell, shake her pom poms and scream her head off as we went by.  She's awesome!

We made our way back to the van, drove back to the hotel, showered, napped and then head to The Melting Pot to recoup all those calories we left on the race course.  Our friends Noel and Becca met us there too.  It was awesome.  We quite possibly might have been on the verge of being kicked out...not quite sure.  We definitely had a blast, and laughed a TON.  Fondue is fun...provided they give you enough dippy bits.

Back to my hotel room, all alone this time.  Iced my foot, coated my legs in Bio-Freeze, and fell asleep.

Will I do it again?  I'm saying no.  I feel really good running up to about 6 miles.  Anything beyond that is just too hard.  6.2 miles is a 10k, and is the distance you run in an Olympic length Triathlon. So I'm 95% sure that a 10k will be the longest distance I run from now on.  But I will confess, I'm easily manipulated, and I really like getting medals.  So who knows...

Now, I need to leave this quiet, clutter free sanctuary that is the Residence Inn St. Louis and head back to Richmond.  I'm going back to my children, who probably didn't realize I was gone because their Dad spoils them when I'm not there.  I'm going back to my husband, who while baffled by my desire to do a 1/2 Marathon in the first place, has been incredibly encouraging and supportive.

Can't wait to get home.  But I enjoyed this while I was here.

I could NEVER do that...

It is 3:00am, and I'm sitting here wide awake in a hotel room in St. Louis.  I can't sleep, and I'm supposed to get up in an hour to eat a bagel anyway.

At around 6:30am, I plan on leaving this hotel room and finding my way to Market St.  I'll need to squirm my way into Corral 17.  That's where they keep the slow people.

At around 7:15ish, I will cross the start line at the Rock N' Roll St. Louis 1/2 Marathon.

I will "run" for 13.1 miles.

I'm hoping that around 10:00ish I will cross thye finish line.

I'm hoping that by 11:00ish I am back in the hotel room, taking a shower, and after coating my hamstrings with BioFreeze, taking a nap.

As I was getting ready to leave for this trip, I had a lot of people say to me "I could NEVER do that!"  I totally get where they are coming from.  I have said the same thing too.

Actually, I worded it more like "I hate running with a passion that can't be described with the English language!"  I thought those that ran those 1/2 Marathon things were masochists, idiots, weirdos...

Well here I am.  I am a masochist.  I am an idiot.  I am a weirdo.  And it turns out, anyone can be.

I am a slow runner.  In technical terms, I MIGHT be called a jogger.  I'm pretty slow.  But I get out there and do it.

Starting to run is one of the hardest things I ever have done.  Simply because it isn't something that you can just jump in and start doing.  It takes time.  It takes patience.  It takes baby steps.

Back in January of this year, I couldn't run more than 200 yards without stopping.  But I kept at it.  A little at a time.  Small improvements.  Longer distances.  Fewer walk breaks.  And here I am.  Timing chip on my shoe, race bib all ready to go.

I will never be an elite athlete.  It is unlikely that I will ever win a race.  But I have accomplished something even more important.  I have surprised and amazed myself.  I have broke through the self-imposed limitations that I have had for myself for decades.  I have accomplished something that I never thought possible, even if I don't make my goal time today.  And I now impart on you a well known cliche...

If I can do it, YOU can do it.

Seriously...have you seen me?  It's true!!

I hear a lot of talk about people's bucket lists.  I think we should also work on our "I could NEVER" lists.  Because saying "I could NEVER..." is sort of like saying "I'm not good enough to..."

Turns out, that's just a load of crap.

I'm not saying that you need to get up and start running half marathons for the rest of your life.  They are brutal.  This will be my last.  But there are other things that we tell our selves that we will never be able to do.  Some are realistic..I'll never win a gold medal at the Olympics.  But others are just on the other side of the limitations that we set for ourselves.  It could be running, or doing a triathlon, or going back to school, or trying out for a part in a play, or singing in public, or any of a million things that we think we could never do.

I'm going to go eat my bagel now, and try and get a little more sleep.

What's on your "I could NEVER..." list?

SPINNING AND SPINNING!

Turns out it doesn't matter if you live in civilization or in the sticks.  Life has a way of spinning out of control and catching you unawares...

You might get a part time job (I did)

You might be training for a 1/2 marathon (I am)

You might have mountains of laundry to do (I do)

You might have piles of paperwork stacking up around you (I do)

You might be frustrated by lots of working out, and little to no weight lost (I am)

You might have children that continually leave their crap everywhere (I do...times 4)

You might get yelled at because you started a new blog and then never post anything in it (I have)

You might have organized a really awesome craft table for yourself and never find time to use it. (Me again)

You might have vacuumed the same corner every other day for 6 weeks and still haven't managed to bend over and pick up the Lego piece that no-one else seems to notice. (Guilty)

You might have 14 half written blog posts in your head but decide not to type them out because they are either about someone specific, something specific, training for a half-marathon or whining about the world at large (Uh-huh)

You might have a fancy DVR and On-Demand cable, but still not manage to be able to catch up on your TV shows because of all of the laundry, working out, lack of typing, multiple part time jobs, messy children, piles of paper and total lack of motivation. (What?  I was taking a nap and you are rambling again)

That is all...

Back to spinning.

BOOM!

Where I used to live, my office was also the laundry room. 

At this new house, I've moved NEXT to the laundry room. 

I have a large room that is 25% office, 25% craft table, 35% storage and 15% dog bed.  It is a haven of multi-tasking, organization and storage.  And it's laundry room adjacent.  Lucky me.

It's the storage part that went BOOM.

I got to go to IKEA yesterday, one of my happy places.  I bought a cheap rug for under my desk and chair so that I stop sliding away while working.  I was all excited to go lay it down and have the office/craft/storage room complete. 

I spent last week re-organizing all the storage in the room.  We have totes and totes and totes full of pictures, momentos and personal belongings from my husband's late parents.  The priceless stuff that you can't depart with, but have no idea what to do with.  And seriously, there are just so many pictures.

Tom's dad was 84 when he passed away 3 years ago.  His Mom passed away 5 years before that.  It astounds me that after distributing, selling, auctioning and donating the possessions they gathered during their 48 years of marriage...it can all be condensed down into 12 plastic totes.  The truely priceless things that we want to hold on to are the photos and worthless trinkets that are full of memories.  After all the packing, unpacking, reorganizing and shopping I've done in the last few months...I need to keep this in mind.  What really holds value in this house. 

There are also totes full of our momentos from growing up.  Beloved toys, old school papers, gear from the many phases of our lives. 

It's not wrong to hold on to my karate gi from college is it?  Hey, I made green belt...and I broke a board in two with just the side of my hand.  It shouldn't matter that no amount of dieting or working out will EVER get me to fit my thighs into that thing again!!

Also...totes full of clothes for the kids to eventually wear.  3 boys equals lots of hand-me-downs.  A generous sister of a sister-in-law with a shopping addiction and two daughters equals lots of pretty dresses, jammies and shoes in Grace's future. 

We got stuff.

In addition to the totes, there are wooden shelves (also from IKEA) with framed pictures, my unfinished craft project collection, sewing stuff, seasonal stuff.

It was looking pretty tidy.

Then I got home yesterday and wondered why my little bottles of paint were all over the floor.  And why my husband's high school art projects were strewn everywhere. 

BOOM.

Apparently the bottom tote on the farthest stack collapsed.  (Note to self:  when you are organizing and stacking totes, if the lid looks a bit bendy, it WILL bend eventually...so don't put 125 pounds of old photographs and tax returns on top of it)

The tote collapsing made the whole stack tip over. 
Which dominoed into the next stack. 
Which dominoed into the shelving. 
Which snapped the temporary strap I used to secure it upright. 
Which fell over onto my craft table. 
Which scattered stuff all over the floor.

So instead of laying down my rug.  I'm cleaning up.

Well, that's a lie.

Because of instead of cleaning up, I'm sitting at my desk, with my back to the mess, blogging about the fact that I need to be cleaning up.


See...even when it's trashed...the room is still a multi-tasking haven.

If your tasks include avoidance and procrastination.

Time Flies

I took my two youngest to their new school last week.  One will be in 2nd Grade, and the other in Kindergarten.  The first day is tomorrow.

Time flies.

It was just a few weeks ago that their older brother got on the bus in front of our house and went off to Kindergarten. (2001).  I was left by myself, having resigned from my job at Pier 1 imports to stay home with Nathan, and prepare for JD's arrival.

It was just a few days ago that I barked at poor Jodi A when she asked me "What's it like to only have one at home now?" when my JD started kindergarten.  I was standing there with Peter, a 2 month old red head in a baby carrier.  The previous year, JD had been in full-day preschool.   I told her that I was backsliding. (2005)  I was still sleep deprived at the time, so I was a little grumpy.  I think I went back home for a nap.

It was just 20 minutes ago when Peter climbed out of the van and walked up to the door of the school for his Kindergarten debut.  He looked so small next to JD.  It was a heartstopping moment, watching my little red head with his adorable glasses and his huge backpack walking away. (2010)

In less than 24 hours, my youngest child and only daughter Grace will wave goodbye to me.  Sporting her sparkly new, light up back-pack and Barbie lunch box, she will start a whole new life.  She will make new friends, she will sing new songs, she will read new stories.  She will walk into that school, leaving me to go back to an empty house.   

...sigh...

...

...




SCORE!!!!

When I grow up...

It finally happened.  I finally realized what I want to be when I grow up.  It has only taken me 42 years, 8 months and 12 days.

When I grow up, I want to be Missy Franklin.

I know, it seems strange that a grown woman would want to become a 17 year old again.  But this isn't just any 17 year old. 

I'm sure that down the road, Missy's character flaws will be discovered and paraded around the media, but for right now, she appears to be the perfect young female athlete. 

She...

• Is Smart (an honors student)
• Is Driven (you would have to be to reach the Olympics at 17)
• Is Well Grounded (passed up endorsement offers so that she wouldn't loose her eligibility to swim in college)
• Is Loyal (Asked "If it ain't broke, why fix it?" to those that suggested that she leave her one and only coach...who had never coached an Olympian before),
• Is Enthusiastic (just so darn excited and happy about being in the Olympics),
• Has perspective (told a reporter "I don't think finishing 4th in the OLYMPICS is anything to be disappointed about)
• Is Poised (I know for a fact that I would be a giddy idiot with all those media appearances)
• Can SWIM!!! (understatement!)

Although I spent most of my childhood in the water, I didn't swim on a team until high school.  By then it was too late.  Or I was too intimidated to put in the work.  Or I was too lazy.  Or I wasn't mature enough.  All I know is that I didn't swim very well in high school.

I swam at my community college for a season.  I loved being on the team, and I loved practicing...but I still wasn't that fast of a swimmer.  So when you are not fast, you are put on the distance races.  I am proud to say that I placed 3rd in the equivalent of the state meet in the 1650 Free.  That is a mile of swimming, by the way.  33 laps.  All at once.  Without stopping.  And I placed 3rd.  I was pretty excited. 

Oh...by the way...there were only 3 people in the race.

So I guess it wasn't as impressive as it first sounded.

As I sit here thinking about it... I that it's not that I WANT to be Missy when I grow up, but more that I WISH I had been more like her AS I was growing up. 

Instead of being insecure I'm too slow, I'm too fat, I'm not as cool as those girls on Varsity, Sue B. is always better at me in everything!!

I wish I would have had the confidence to stick with it, work hard, push myself and see what I was actually capable of. 

Oh wait...

This unflattering picture is an over heated, exhausted, slightly heavier than recommended woman crossing a finish line at a Triathlon in LAST PLACE!

Upon closer inspection, we see that that woman crossing the finish line in LAST PLACE was actually ME! (With my dear friend and partner in crime...Pat Nixon aka Crystal).

I can assure you that I was too slow this day.  And the rolls around my tummy show that I should probably lay off the butter pecan, and everyone there had cooler bikes and better gear and looked adorable in their LuLuLemon outfits that I will probably never fit into, and Crystal is better than me in everything. 

So all those issues I had in high school are still there.  But the 42 year old me decided to say screw it.  I decided to push myself and see what I was actually capable of. 

So while I will never be the athlete Missy is, and I will never be 17 again, and I will definitely never be as tall as she is...I hope that when I 'grow up' that I will be able to be well grounded, have perspective, be driven, be loyal, be enthusiastic and remain poised when I'm a world famous blogger/speaker and I'm interviewed on The Today Show...just like her.

Congratulations to Missy and to all of Team USA Swimming. You guys rocked it!!!

I love TV...don't judge me.

My family has always known that I have a severe television problem.  I love TV.  I love the news, I love dramas, I love comedy, I love documentaries.  Since I was a little girl, I have always loved TV.

Don't judge me.

Thankfully, with the discovery of the DVR, I don't watch as much as I used to.  Only the stuff that I really like.  Only good TV.  Never Whale Wars.  Or Swamp People.  Ugh...I lost brain cells just typing those titles.

My son has been a Netflix addict this summer.  He decided that he would watch the original Battlestar Gallactica.  That, by the way, was one of my favorites when I was in 4th grade.  (I-heart-Apollo)  JD waked into the kitchen and asked me why there was a gap between the two seasons...1978 and then 1980?  Why wasn't it in 1979?  I quickly answered "Because there was a stupid writer's strike in 1979 and it screwed everything up for months!"  I was 10 at the time.  But I was bitter.  Apparently I still am.   It was over 30 years ago, I should probably let it go.  This just shows that 1) I'm old and 2) My love for television was firmly established while I was a child. 

Memories of a 1985 made for TV movie with Penny Marshall called Challenge of a Lifetime that made me think it might be possible to do Triathlon earlier this summer.  I didn't quite do the Iron Man, but I did a whole lot more than I ever thought I would be able to a year ago.

For some reason, the best TV shows coincide with important events in my life.  This makes them extra special to me.  We found out who shot JR on the night of my 12th birthday party.  ER premiered on my wedding day, and I watched the first episode of Friends on our honeymoon.  I was sad to see those shows go off the air, but relieved that my marriage had more longevity.
The Closer is another one of my favorites.  I watched the first episode in the hospital the day my son Peter was born.  It's only got a few episodes left.  Again, thankful for Peter's health and longevity.  Last week's episode left me crying like an idiot. 

SPOILER ALERT:

The last scene has Brenda walking in her guestroom to bring her Mother a cup of coffee, and let her know that breakfast is almost ready.  She leaves the coffee on the nightstand and turns to walk out when Mom doesn't get up.  She gets as far as the door when suddenly the detective side of her realizes what has happened. Yet the little girl inside of her still holds out hope that her Mom will roll over and get up for pancakes.  Brenda walks to the other side of the bed...

I don't know what happened after that.  I couldn't watch.  I had to get up to leave.  See, I knew it was coming.  Years of television viewing help me to recognize foreshadowing, and I'm usually pretty good at guessing where a script is going.  So it wasn't a shocker that Brenda's Mom had died in her sleep.

The shocker was my physical reaction to it.  It hit too close to home.  Seven years ago, my Mother-in-law died in her sleep.  When I got to the house, she was comfortably laying in bed, holding on to the edge of the blanket.  It was nearly the exact same image.

This is what good tv does.  It kicks you in the gut.

It sucks you in and makes you care about the characters.  Just like a great book...sometimes even more so.  It leaves you wondering about them when they're not on screen.  What are Ross and Rachel doing now?  I wonder what Doug and Carrol's twins look like.  How is Brenda going to make it through the next few weeks?  Did Josh and Donna actually get married?  Did Santos run for re-election?  Will Leonard and Penny stay together?

These are the things I think about in the midst of laundry, parenting, trolling facebook, grocery shopping, working, cleaning and playing Words with Friends.

Don't judge me.