"You are Enough."

My morning started on this Memorial Day at 3:38AM. I don't recall exactly what roused me, but I knew there was no point in trying to lay around for those last 22 minutes before my alarm went off, so I quickly began to get ready.  By the time my alarm would have gone off, I was pretty much ready... All I had left to do was bide my time until I planned to leave the house at 6...

Shortly after eating a banana and brewing a cup of coffee, I checked Facebook, and saw the sweetest cheerful message from one of my friends regarding a picture I'd posted from last year's race. I had been nervous before I went to bed last night. This wasn't my first race, or even my first time to do this particular event. In fact, I was so glad that I was actually pretty familiar with the area around the VBC this year. But... I knew how well I'd managed to do last year and I have a tendency to try to one-up myself when I go out to run.

I am not Shalane Flanagan or Kara Goucher, but my normal pace is pretty good for a recreational runner. Considering that I never really excelled at anything sporty "growing up", that "pretty good" has been a real source of pride for me in the year and a half that I've been running.

As a stay-at-home mom, my daily responsibilities lean more to "investment for the future" than "immediate gratification", but when I'm able to keep pace with or best a time on a particular route, I feel like I've actually accomplished something on that particular day. That's not the only reason I run, but it is a notable part of why.

I've probably thought on that topic before on my runs, but this morning, it felt different. This morning it felt as if there was a reason the thought had come to my mind.

I was rather surprised when I heard Miss LK stirring at about 4:30 as she's been sleeping until 7 or 8 most mornings, but I was glad to take her into my arms this morning. As LK giggled, cooed, and smiled, my friend's words about my just having a baby started to sink in. I kept dismissing that fact these last couple of months as I thought of it as a potential excuse. I don't like excuses - for most of my adult life up till this point I've clung to excuses. But... she's not an excuse. She's a blessing.

As I fed her, my mind was filled with that thought. I mean a year ago, I had no idea that within a month of the CRR 2011, she would come into being. I was in the best shape I'd ever been in, but instead of really recognizing the fact, I was consumed with dropping 5 more pounds and finishing with a sub-9/mile pace.

After I put her down in her crib, I sipped my coffee and tried to deal with what I guess amounts to some sort of sinus infection. In fact, if I were truly wise, I wouldn't be running until the congestion is cleared from my chest... but I'm a silly girl. In fact, I've found I have a knack for gardening in the rain. Ha!

At any rate, I found my way to the start, and soon after, I once again found myself wavering from my typical "race mindset" as the announcer delivered a stellar prayer that reminded me of why it is that we celebrate Memorial Day. My heart was once again full of thanks, but this time for the men and women who have died for our freedom. I couldn't help but cry during Taps.

And soon we were off...

But I tried to conserve my energy as best I could rather than take off as I normally do. After all, it was quite hot and still pretty humid. I wanted to make sure I was in it for the long haul. Yes, in the back of my mind, I knew that I have even recently knocked out 10K+ distances, but... I don't know. There was just something different about this day. I couldn't quite put it into words in the early goings, but I just felt it.

I started walking much earlier than I typically have. That wasn't my plan, but as I was sorta wheezing, I thought it was probably best.

I happened to see my campus pastor and his wife along the way. I can't really begin to fully explain how glad I was to see them. The short of it... they embodied the blessing I've received from my church over the past several months. Last year, I was a complete newcomer... I had no ties to the community in which I'd been placed. Now I am a part of a wonderful church family. For the first time in my life, I am actually INVOLVED in a church. A church where I gladly serve and can definitely feel the further development of my relationship with Christ. Yes, my Cove family is certainly a blessing.

I almost chuckle as I recount it now, but given that one of the primary tips given to runners preparing for a race is "don't do anything you haven't done before on the day of the event"... well, it seems silly that I would have suddenly decided to wear sunscreen. Especially on my face. From probably about mile 2 till well after I made it home, I couldn't quite see out of my left eye due to the sting of the "sweatproof" sunscreen. To make it even more amusing, whenever I attempted to wipe that eye with my shirt, my nose would run, so I'd find myself quickly tilting my head back upright and sniffling. I'm fairly certain that I appeared to be suffering/crying/in pain to a few folks along the way, but alas, no... "Sweatproof" sunscreen and allergies were the culprits.

Ah, and then there was the hill... that evil evil EVIL hill. My memory had apparently allowed it to be less evil than it is in actuality. I even kidded myself into thinking that running a few of the nearby hills in the last few weeks might actually prepare me to run rather than walk. Again, I'm a silly girl.

But I did see my friend who had been so kind to share those words of encouragement via Facebook. She'd mentioned where she was planning to cheer on the runners and for the first time ever in an event, I found myself looking around. I mean REALLY looking around - not just for how I was pacing or where the next water station was... As I continued to smile as I trudged up that hill (yes, smiling - it's something of a weird habit of mine...), a fella joked that I had just run this hill no problem yesterday, but just felt like taking it easy today. I chuckled.

From that point on, I tried to do a better job to thank the folks who had come out to cheer us on, as well as the volunteers. Gosh, I feel like such a dork - I just wanted to go up and hug 'em.

The folks with the motivating music pumpin', who raised a toast as we passed by.

The little fella who held onto the water hose with a little help from an adult and sprayed those lucky enough to be near its stream. I'll even expand that to all the folks so kind as to turn on their sprinklers for us.

The fella who carried a flag - who served as an in-race reminder of the special meaning of this day. Goodness, I wanted so bad to thank him loudly and proudly for that, but instead whispered softly for fear of creeping him out or something. I always feel like anything I might think to say will never be enough and will not even come close to what servicemen and women deserve....

The ladies who made a point to cheer on the girls. Yes, girl power! ;) Special kudos to the lady who was kind enough to say I was doing really well as I was still smiling so late in the race.

The Mississippi State fans and their cowbells. I wanted to yell out an appropriate "Go Dawgs" as I'd already heard just about enough of "Roll Tide", but as I prepared to open my mouth, I felt an initial "Hotty Toddy" ready to bust out and before I could think of "Go Dawgs" my response window had already passed. At any rate, "Go Dawgs!"

The officer who made a point to say congrats and tell me how well I was doing.

Am I long-winded and sentimental? Yes, but thankful. So thankful.

In that last... half-mile maybe? I felt the breeze for perhaps the first time all day. I realized at that moment that it was a beautiful day. Hot. Humid. But beautiful nonetheless. And even though the clock had long since registered a time close to my PR last year... I was truly happy to be alive. To be in that moment, doing something that I love to do.

When suddenly, I could see the finish just ahead. The struggles that I'd encountered all race long just sort of melted away and my legs were free. I sprinted to the finish. The clock read '1:06:53'. Considering I'd finished almost ten minutes faster last year, I could have been quite devastated. But I wasn't. I was glad that I'd been able to finish.

Of course, getting free chocolate milk wasn't such a bad consolation prize. ;)

Yes, I still struggled to make it back to my car as I quite often had to close my eyes just to keep them from burning like crazy. And no, I didn't have the sense to actually STOP and DO something about it. Again, I'm a silly ole girl. Luckily no people or cars were injured in the process.

So I didn't accomplish a PR or even come close. I didn't even manage to run that much of the race. I hadn't really PROVED anything.

But God did.

My whole life I've been blessed, but unfortunately, it's not uncommon for me to get so caught up in a "rat race" that I lose sight of that fact.

Instead, I dwell on achieving what is technically considered a "runner's pace", negative comments about people who run in skirts or smile when running (like how they aren't REAL runners), or how I'm not back to the same weight I was pre-pregnancy. Or how I don't always deliver my stories exactly as scripted to the kids in our preschool class at church. Or how my 2-year-old can really act like he wants to own the familiar moniker associated with his age. Or how I still don't make it out of the house to various cool events that I'm invited to...

Generally, I'd say I am a happy person, but I'm waaaaay too hard on myself. I always have been and honestly I've been too dependent on others to define my personal expectations.

But today's race was a gift from God.

You are my child. You are enough.

Reality or Fiction?

“I have been through some really terrible things in my life…..a few of which actually happened.” - Mark Twain

While I've been having some wonderful training runs even as cold as it is outside right now, I find myself coming to the same line of thought... What do you do if someone you love seems to live in a fantasy world? Not the dreamy type of fantasy either. But a world where any and every one is out to get you at any given moment. Where everything that has ever happened in that person's life had happened to them - s/he has always been a victim. Where they are only able see the bad things - almost as no good exists.

Even in light of this world - s/he claims to be jubilant at the strides made. Which would be more convincing coming from someone without tears streaming down his/her face.

What if other people in this person's life see there is a problem, but feel helpless to stop it? Do you follow in their steps, or do you keep with it even though your emotional well-being is at stake as you will become the latest perpetrator of the day, week, etc.

What do you do?

What do I do?

Am I a 10 yet?

So, my chief objective for this year was to "Be a 10 in 2010".  Weight loss wise I feel I've done a fine job.  Yes, I have about 10 more pounds to go till I make it to my perhaps idealized 145, but 60 pounds down isn't something at which you should scoff.  I'm proud of that much.  I'm proud that I've been able to exercise consistently for, oh, about 8 months.  That I've taken control of my eating - instead of letting it control me (even though it IS getting really hard to stick to my calorie budget when there are SOOOO many sweets about).

What I am disappointed in though.... is the fact that I am severely lacking in self-confidence.  I've never been so insecure.  Even though I know I'm not as big as I once was, I can't convince myself that I actually look thin.  I've always been this curvy girl.... and now the curves just don't seem dynamic enough or something.  I mean my waist never seems small enough even though my stomach is flat.  There are times when my "saddlebags" are extremely noticeable.  My body fat percentage is ONLY in the fitness range.  My BMI is ONLY 22.9...  When will it feel like enough?  When will I be good enough for myself?

Self-confidence comes from within.  My lack of self-confidence is my own fault, but I have to say that it certainly doesn't help when I see all these magazines and Victoria's Secret catalogs with models SO thin.  I mean THEY look thin.  I just feel like I still look so big by comparison.  I mean in my mind the fact that I'm a 6 going on a 4...  just isn't good enough.  That's sick.

My main goal for 2011 is to work on my self-image.  This has prompted me to start looking for articles and the like to get me in this positive frame of mind... to accept my body as the unique thing of beauty that it is.  One of the articles I've come upon is from Glamour of all places:  "These Bodies are Beautiful at Every Size"

Sure, I can see where it's more aesthetically pleasing to look at thinner people...  it seems like an insane industry where I would be bordering on being "plus-sized".  I always thought it was stupid that being a 12 made you plus sized when I was a 12 and I still think so.  It's good to promote a healthy lifestyle for men and women, but if the bar is set so unrealistically high so that you must be SUPER thin to be recognized for being fit, doesn't it seem to logically follow that people just give up?  I mean we have more overweight and obese people in this country than ever before.  Yes, I know I personally overindulged in food, so that even when I exercised, I was still getting too many calories, and I don't doubt that people need to learn a bit more self-control....  but I must admit that it's reassuring when people realize that we need to re-examine how we as a society define beauty.

Bouncy bouncy...

I am chilled to the bone.  Two times in a row I've gone out running when the temps were below 30.  The wind has been unforgiving, and particularly aggravated by the experience have been my hands.  I tried wearing my super nice North Face Denali gloves, but....  I've determined that they can only do so much to keep my hands warm when they get soaked with sweat.  Of course, now that I've decided against running that half in February, my typical runs are only about 20 minutes right now, so if I could actually FIND them, those gloves might work just fine for now.  Oh well, I'm just hoping for a nice pair of running gloves come Christmas....

So why did I decide against the half?  I mean I really would LOOOOVE to run a half-marathon, but after that short bout with Achilles tendinitis (it lasted only about a week or so after I cut back on my training a bit), I began to question whether it was too much too soon.   However, I guess it really just comes down to the fact that I wasn't really feeling it.  For now, my next event will probably be the GumTree 10K, which will be the first Saturday in May.  Having said that, if I can find an event before then...  so much the better I think.  Guess I need to keep my eyes open.

As I've been out running these last couple weeks - when I haven't been trying to convince myself that I still have feeling in my extremities, my mind has been going wild with all kinds of thoughts.  Just rehashing all too familiar themes.... "Blood ties don't make us family", "How will I possibly deal with the onslaught of delicious sweet treats this holiday season?", "What makes some people so mean?", "Why do I feel so doggone bad about myself?"....

The topic that has come up most here recently relates to relations.  For, oh, about 10 years, I had not seen or had anything much do with pretty much everyone on my momma's side of the family.  I'd spent most of my vacations when I was younger down at my grandparents'.  I loved them.  I loved when I got to spend a little time with my cousins while I was down there, as they never ventured into our part of the state.  When it was one-on-one, or thereabouts, it was wonderful, but when the "family" got together...  My dad and I would essentially be pushed out of the way as if we were some sort of outsiders.  In spite of this, I enjoyed getting to come down if for nothing else but to wrap my arm around my grandmother's shoulders and have her wrap her arm around my waist as we'd take whatever goodies Momma had brought for her over to their trailer.  It was such a simple thing, but as I said, it just made the trip worthwhile as far as I was concerned.  Probably about my junior year of high school, we stopped going down there quite as much - or at the very least, I didn't go down there for every major holiday.   Once I got to college, I'm not sure I even went down there for Christmas.  Then just before I got married, my grandmother died.  Once she died, my desire to have anything do with most all those other people was gone.

That sounds harsh, but by and large, we just didn't have much in common.  Almost all of them live within say 30 minutes of each other, so they are geographically closer and they seem to wander in the same social "circles".  Education wasn't necessarily a priority, but God knows, hunting sure is.  In fact, I don't think there is a male on that side of the family who doesn't live to hunt.  The womenfolk are either wonderful cooks or skilled "traffic" directors.  As much as I appreciate good Southern cooking, I loathe being herded.  I also do not like the way women are essentially treated as subservient to men at such events.  I am a traditional sort of girl and I have my own views, which can be a bit misogynistic to be quite honest, but I do not care for people who would force their ideas and beliefs on me, and there seem to be quite a few at such gatherings.  Last Sunday was no exception.  I was relieved that my baby was so restless, which allowed me to play outside with him during most of the party as I don't think I would care to be trapped in a small room with that lot even though some people in the crowd were among those dearest to my heart.

I'm not antisocial, but I prefer my social encounters to be meaningful.  Being in a mass of people under this guise of family togetherness is counterproductive.  If I'm not particularly wanted or needed in a particular situation, I'd do just as well to avoid it all together, and that's precisely what I intend to do for the remainder of my days when it comes to such gatherings.

I feel I've spent my life looking for a family to call my own.  One where I really felt like I could be comfortable in my own skin.  Where I was good enough just as I was.  I've been blessed to know so many kind-hearted people in my life, and it's not unusual for me to adopt people into my family even if we don't stay in the closest contact - I mean that's nothing out of the ordinary for me, but still....  It's just a weird experience....

Down... But NOT out!

Okay, so another lesson has been learned...  Walking extra miles on top of any increase in mileage running can be problematic.  Brad had been quick to acknowledge that his hip flexor was out of sorts at the beginning of last week, so he took the week off from running to prevent further injury.  I, on the other hand, had started feeling some tension in what I suppose is my Achilles tendon perhaps on Monday, but as it got better after I got moving or even when I massaged it a bit after the fact, I shrugged it off as a "no-pain, no-gain" situation.  So, I continued with my running normal schedule - well besides the fact that I had to run on the treadmill on Monday and Tuesday due to inclement weather.  After my normal rest days on Thursday and Friday, I embarked on my longest run alone Saturday, as I've already mentioned that my husband has far more sense than I.  I pushed myself and managed to get a little over 8 miles in the allotted 1 hour 20 minute time frame.  However, any bliss I might have felt over this feat was rather short-lived....  mainly because a knot arose just an inch or so above my left heel and walking felt even more painful than it had before. 

I was devastated at the mere suggestion my husband made that I must abandon running until my tendon is all healed up as it could take anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple of months, and I'm terrified that I might use this as an excuse to gain weight again (especially as this is an eater's "best" time of year IMO). After some more research, it looks like as long as I cut back on my mileage and my speed, I should be okay.  I'll be trying to be a bit more diligent about my post-run stretches, although apparently I have to be mindful not to stretch TOO much or else I'll cause myself more problems.  So...  that's pretty well it.

As an aside note, I can only wonder if you were as unsurprised as I was by the Surprising Ways You're Gaining Weight?  I mean, as far as I can tell, there's very little in the way of new information when it comes to nutrition and what not.... but... seriously?  Ugh.  For the record, no one will guilt me into eating this Thanksgiving or Christmas....  when I splurge, it's because I want to.  If I EVER bring my own entree to a dinner party, you will know I'm insane and should be committed.  That's part of the holidays.  Yes, there are things you shouldn't eat, BUT if you FREAK OUT about every little thing that goes in your mouth every single day....  it is my firm belief that you have lost your mind (unless of course there's like a medical reason to be so obsessive).  These Eat-Clean tips for November 2010 are a bit better, but again, #2 strikes me as a bit psychotic if you bring your own food for your own consumption.

6 for 6

When my hubby and I woke up on Saturday morning in our hotel room, we were certainly in for a big day.  In honor of our sixth wedding anniversary, we decided to go up to Nashville to watch a Predators game, but as luck would have it before the puck dropped, we had our longest run yet ahead of us - an hour and 10 minutes.  Around here, we are something of an oddity when we run, but in Music City - just off the campus of Vanderbilt University, we were in good company.  Regardless of the time of day, there was someone out running, which was just amusing to me.  While many of these runners ran along the side of the road, we opted to run in Centennial Park, which happened to be right across the road from our hotel.  It definitely provided us with a change in scenery, even if we had to run about 6 1/2 laps to fill up our goal time but it was definitely beautiful.  The one mile loop was the track of choice for quite a few runners and walkers of all skill levels on Saturday morning, and even some sort of instructor led training toward the end of a run. 

Once we clocked our time, we stopped by the McDonald's between us and our hotel for one of the biggest breakfasts I've had in some time - two breakfast burritos, a hash brown patty, a medium orange juice, and a yogurt & fruit parfait.  It amazes me that I would have downed such a breakfast without a second thought not so long ago, but at least this time I'd "earned" the calories - the rest of the facts don't impress but what the heck...  Travel usually brings out the big eater in me anyway.  Sort of figured it'd take the place of breakfast and lunch anyway.  For whatever reason, Brad decided he'd try a McGriddle, even though he's never expressed anything but disgust at the idea of it since the time of its release.  His bad opinion was confirmed after the "taste test", but apparently, the feeling was mutual, as his stomach was a bit ornery for a couple hours later - needless to say, not what you want especially on vacation. 

After we got cleaned up and relaxed for a bit, we went shopping at a pretty nice mall which was about 10 minutes away from the hotel.  I must admit that I was rather hopeful that we'd have a fair amount of shopping success, as I enjoy shopping with my hubby.... but...  despite the fact that this mall had some good stores, I found nothing that I liked, even though I was able to confirm some suspicions about the sizing of some Lucky Brand jeans I bought on eBay - namely that they were smaller than normal, as I was able to put on some size 4's.  Despite that fact, as I was walking around the mall, I saw all these other people and just marveled at how small they were; all the while, I was thinking about how big I was - even though we were probably the same size if I wasn't just taller.  I found myself wondering if they saw me and pitied the "big girl".  I know getting past the "fat girl thinking" is a long process, but at moments like that - I just feel like it's pretty hopeless because if I don't feel small now - I mean when exactly will I?, but I guess you just gotta keep going - been loving reading some of the blog entries on the Phit-N-Phat website, which have dealt with the struggles other women are having with the same sort of thing.    Anyway, I'm at least happy to report that we did find my hubby some jeans as he's been having quite a bit of trouble keeping his britches up.  ;)

After just an hour or so, we headed back to the hotel with the intention of grabbing a light bite to eat at one of the restaurants nearby before heading over the Predators Pro Shop.  Somehow that morphed into getting a bite to eat after we went to the Pro Shop as we wanted to make sure we made it over in plenty of time before it closed prior to the game, so we walked the 2.1 miles from the hotel to Bridgestone Arena.  Of course, about the time we made it there, Brad mentioned that we could just hang around downtown until the game.  Would have been a great idea EXCEPT our tickets were still at the hotel.  HA!  We found a couple of shirts and hats so no one would be able to doubt our "fanhood", and then headed back to the hotel in search of a restaurant where we could grab our "lunner".   As we both enjoy a good beer from time to time, we found ourselves in luck because there was a restaurant where they also brewed beer along the way - we'd managed to work up quite an appetite by this point, and our selections didn't disappoint - for me, Shepard's Pie with a German-style pale; for Brad, a half-rack of ribs and a stout English porter. 

Cheesing for the camera in our new duds in the room...

A rare full-body shot....

With our bellies happy once more, we continued the return trip - only to be greeted by about 20-30 Blackhawks fans standing outside the inn, apparently waiting for a shuttle.  We donned our Predators gear and tried to give our legs a little rest before we left once more.  We managed to hang around for 30 minutes after we got gussied up til about 5 before the excitement of our first real live Preds game got the best of us, even though we knew that it would only take us about 30 minutes to walk over there and the gates weren't supposed to open until 6.  While the downtown area was pretty lively on our first pass, it was definitely a bit more so as the residents of Smashville (and their guests from Chicago) filled the streets outside the arena.  It seemed as though the gates to our cold new home opened almost as soon as we arrived on the premises, and we did not tarry.

We were both in awe as we passed through the doors and our eyes absorbed the sights and sounds that had only been available to us before on TV.  We saw Gnash and could only wonder what the wee man would think of him.  We saw stands for the various culinary delights offered there - don't laugh, chocolate caramel apples are awesome!  I was a little nervous as I noticed the sheer number of 'Hawk fans in the stands, but the Preds definitely showed up.  We sat in the upper lower bowl on the "attack twice" side of center ice.  The view was awesome!  Brad kept telling me how much more fun it was to see a hockey game in-person than on TV, but I had clung to my doubts...  Completely dispelled now.  I don't recall a single dull moment.  Top it all off with the fact that one of my FAVORITE players, Ryan Suter, was back from injury! 

Standing in the aisle before the game....

On TV, it just looks like a bunch of guys hitting a puck around the ice....  but just being able to see the precise movements involved in each action, to watch a guy pluck a puck from the air, or knock it down with his stick...  it's nothing short of amazing.   A thing of beauty even in the midst of the general brutality of the game.  In addition to the action on the ice, we acquainted ourselves with the various cheers & chants of our Preds - much to my dismay, the word "sucks" was used quite a bit, but I simply opted to refrain from using the word as it does seem a bit vulgar to chant publicly.  Plenty of music and videos on the jumbo-tron topped it all off for quite a lively experience.

Even though I generally get riled up when the "enemy" is close at hand, I found myself pretty upbeat and oblivious to their presence for the most part.... Although I did hear a female 'hawk make a snide remark about what a shame it was that they took away a Predators' goal after review because the puck had been knocked in by a skate as we'd already celebrated - I couldn't help but roll my eyes, and then a male who was with her later tried to hone in on a simple "Let's Go Predators!" cheer by subbing in a "Blackhawks"...  That prompted me to be just a bit louder as I turned my head to the side and repeated my chant, but really quite a mild reaction on my part even if I do say so myself.

On the other hand, the children in the row ahead of us (the oldest was maybe 13) were mirror images of what I must have been like at their age when I went to State football and basketball games.  They were loud and obnoxious.  They made rather ugly, ridiculous statements as they had no doubt convinced themselves that they "hated" the Blackhawks and the 'Hawk fans seated next to them.  That was the only part of the whole experience that I really wished I could change.  It made me feel ashamed that I'd ever been that way, and sad that they were behaving that way - even if it was only a phase.  I hope we can set better examples for Coop so he will always be a good sport and focus more on the game than indulge in the false yet perceived expectations of a "real" fan.

The game was pretty much a down and dirty brawl, with quite a few scuffles breaking out - how I did love to see little Steve Sullivan (my size) put the beat down on a bigger guy.  Sullivan took a man down to the ice and even after they pulled him off, you could tell he was telling the guy to stay down.  He continued to jaw at the guy from the penalty box.  Of course, Shea did not disappoint either.  He definitely put some hits on some 'hawks - he had a couple of penalties that he seemed to serve almost consecutively, but the Preds were able to keep the 'hawks in check.  Tied at 3 at the end of regulation - we went to overtime and then a shootout, but happily, we were able to come away with the win.  Yee haw!  It was quite an action packed experience for our first NHL game.

After the game, we made the final 2.1 mile trek back to our room in the drizzling rain.  Once we made it to our room, we pretty well collapsed and tried to take in a little ESPN before finally going to sleep.  It was definitely an anniversary to remember and last night, when we managed to get back home, we made plans to attend another game next month.

Just so blessed that we were able celebrate this milestone together in style.  Happy 6th anniversary, Colonel!

Everybody's Got One...

Having a baby in tow definitely changes the way one shops at Wal-mart.  Personally, I'm not comfortable with putting my child in a shopping cart.  It's not the germs, even though I quite aware of the fact that there are germs - I mean you can always put a cover over it.  Instead, it's the restraint part of the seat that is most problematic for me.  Most carts do not seem to have them, and even though the cart cover that I own has a nice looking restraint...  I'm not confident that I'd be able to secure the cover to the cart well enough to trust the cart.  My boy is really rambunctious and can get into trouble lickety-split, so while I'm getting something off the shelf, he could very well try to jump out of the cart.  He is a daredevil.  For this reason, I am much more comfortable with having him in a baby carrier.  I will acknowledge that some baby carriers are unsafe - mostly because of improper use, but I have been nothing but satisfied with our ERGObaby carrier, so unless he's just extremely fussy - that's where my baby will be when he's with me at Wal-mart until such time that I simply cannot physically tote him this way.

Yesterday, I was on the receiving end of some hateful glares - I can only imagine this was the reason.  For most of the trip, I shrugged them off, but as I was getting ready to check out, the cashier was giving me the same hateful look I'd noticed from a few others.  To top it off, the first thing she said to me was "I wouldn't trust those things".  Now, I must admit that as soon as those words left her mouth - my defenses were thrown up, but as I do my utmost to be polite, I simply said that we have had nothing but positive experiences with this carrier since he was an infant.  She retorted with a snarl: "I still wouldn't trust it".  I just smiled. 

Not to be completely rude, but why did she think I gave a care in the world about her snide opinion?  I care more about my child's welfare than she ever could, so what did she stand to gain by questioning my decision to wear my baby? 

On a lighter note, it was quite sweet to see Coop and this nice fella in another check-out line make goofy faces at one another just before we got up to the register.  Coop even let him have his paci for a short bit.  Now THAT warms my heart.

Podium Type Runner

Okay, so this is random, but I loved this blog entry and wanted to share!

Just seemed like it had an excellent message that I definitely need to work on myself....  Enjoy!

Early Rising

So the past couple days have been really interesting as I have been rolling out of bed and into my running clothes well before I'd previously even THOUGHT of doing so - thanks of course to the end of daylight savings time.  While I would technically have most all day to get my runs in, it is nice to think that I get it out of the way while my hubby gets ready for work and the wee man sleeps.  Having said that...  HOLY COW, IT'S COLD!  Now as I've mentioned before, I really enjoy running when it's cold, but I can't help but doubt my own sanity for running when it's near freezing.  Of course, if I do wind up running in this half-marathon in Oxford...  I need to be prepared for these temps as I can well remember how bloomin' cold it was on campus as I'd trek across campus from one class to the next.

I am impressed with how much easier it is to run for longer periods (still like my walk breaks as jogging is still pretty elusive for me)...  While I was dressed in a pretty warm ensemble (5K outfit with a fleece lined headband), the wind was still fairly merciless as it whipped across my cheeks.  It presents an interesting situation: if you continue to run, the wind will be a bit more brutal with you, but if you do rise to the occasion and continue on your quest, you might actually generate a little more warmth - of course, there's no telling how long it will take or if it will happen at all.  I continually opt for the possibility of more warmth, but my sanity is quite frequently called into question as I do.  Which is why it was so fantastic yesterday when the intro of "Clint Eastwood" by Gorillaz started up...  made me lose my doubts - just let me revel in what a bad ma'am-a jamma I am for taking this new challenge head on. 

Feel so empowered in moments like that.  I mean there's quite a few of the "I'm-getting-my-fanny-handed-to-me" moments, but it's those moments when I feel stronger...  like mentally stronger than I've ever thought possible... that is why I love running.  You can always improve, but it's mostly about just being in the moment.  This from the girl who has always looked forward to the future instead of truly loving where she was at that moment in time.  It's great to have goals, but the journey is just as important as reaching those goals if not more so, because goals can evolve based on the person I am today (person who has been shaped by the journey).  I feel blessed in that knowledge.

Just assume have a cheeseburger...

In case I haven't told you lately, I love food.  In my pursuit of a leaner me, I feel like I'm been able to quell my hunger most of the time with healthier choices.  I mean, where as we used to have a frozen pizza once a week - we might have one a month....  Things like that.  The strange this is...  I don't really miss it.  I mean I know there's plenty of articles to be found on the topic of the snowball effect of healthy eating on a regular basis, but....  for me...  a lover of food...  it just seems weird.  I mean I'll even have days where I have to make myself eat something because nothing really sounds good and I know just going without is completely stupid.  It's weird how things have changed.... 

Several years ago, about the time my hubby and I tied the knot, I was nutso for Mexican food.  In fact, my entire weekend would feel completely flat if I didn't get to eat at a Mexican restaurant AT LEAST once.  If we happened to be up at my in-law's, my mother-in-law and I would even cheerfully knock back a margarita. 

Then, it sort of morphed to going to eat out once a week.  I wasn't as particular about where, but if it was Friday night, we were going out to eat.  It was nice to have a little date night as the rest of the week just always felt so hectic.  I mean it felt like I rarely ever saw my hubby and when I did, we were both generally too tired to talk, except of course for Friday night.  I mean what's more convenient than having someone else worry with the dishes and preparing the food.... just so long as you get to kick back and enjoy...  the conversations with your companion... and of course, the food....

Since I've been staying at home with the wee man, our weekly outings are now generally limited to having lunch with "Daddy" once a week.  Now, it's more about getting to visit with my hubby and/or his co-workers than it is about the food....  It's not that the food is bad.  It's just not the same.

Well, my adventures in Podiatryland have continued since my initial surgery.  Glad to have my bum nail long gone and to have both big toes recovering quite well.  Still treating for the discoloration and what not that have plagued them for a good little while before the surgeries.  While it was really kinda neat to have somewhere to go, to get out of the confines of the house for a while by myself, these biweekly trips have pretty well gotten to the point of being cumbersome... EXCEPT when I get to have lunch with my sister.  She always just brightens my day and I love just getting to share lunch and a wonderful conversation with her.

Given that the conversation will be awesome no matter what, it hasn't mattered where we went to eat - just so long as we got to go.  We've been to several different types of places - deli, Applebee's, Mexican, sushi...  but there was one place that I'd had in the back of my mind... one of those places where you know you cannot go wrong because you know exactly what you will order and just thinking about your entree will make your mouth water if you are so inclined...  namely Mugshots Grill & Bar.  I kept pushing the idea back into what I guess equates to a mental utility closet or something, because I knew it wouldn't come close to being healthy.  I've done fine these last few months... until of course, I discovered my hubby had finally achieved his goal weight after a smorgasbord of unhealthy foods last week (he was out-of-town).  After that, I threw down my gauntlet.  I would actually have an honest to God splurge.  I was tired of minimizing the damage.  I wanted a cheeseburger.  I wanted the best, so my mission was clear: I would have a McDonald from Mugshots.

Now, cheeseburgers are a food category in which several restaurants get a nod.  I mean it's one of those - I eat a burger from my short list of restaurants or one that's homemade and finish with the same thought: "That's the best damn burger I've ever eaten!"  But truth be told, I should be more descriptive about the subcategory in which that particular burger is best, because the Mugshots' McDonald is by far THE best overall in my opinion.  I don't know if it's the ranch dressing, the bacon, the barbecue sauce, the smoked cheddar, the sweet bun, the patty....  Doesn't matter.  Just warms my belly thinking about it.  Ahhh....

So, yesterday I had another wonderful visit with my beautiful sister, but in addition, I walked away with one VERY happy belly after the most calories I think I've consumed in a single sitting in months.  But... I... do... not... CARE!  Take that, LoseIt!  *mu ha ha* 

Head Games

With our first 5K behind us, it seemed only logical to me to pinpoint the next event/goal.  Now, ideally, the next event would either be another 5K or a 10K, but the only 10Ks that I'm aware of aren't until the end of April/beginning of May, so in comes a curveball.  Oxford is a beautiful little town.  I'm not crazy about all the chain stores that have cropped up there since I graduated 6 years ago, but there's something charming about the area AWAY from West Jackson.  On February 26, 2011, there will be a half-marathon there (Run for Hope), and for some crazy reason, I've got it in my head that I'd like to try it.  In a way, it sounds like a short period of time to train for 13.1 miles, but my lead time from the 5K to the half-marathon is a respectable 18 weeks, which in theory sounds doable.  Maybe.  I haven't made the final decision yet.  I am following my training schedule for a half-marathon and will make up my mind by December 1st.  Hubs is in the same boat.

At any rate, when selecting a training schedule, I decided to upgrade my 5K Coach app to the Run Coach Pro, and then shoot for 4 days of running a week, with my long run on Saturday.  By default the other running days are Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.  Last week, instead of giving myself credit for an easy run on Saturday on the new schedule, I swapped the first easy run to Sunday, which put me at running for 5 days straight.  I found that to be a bit taxing, so in future, I'll try to stick with my plan.

As we ran our long run on Saturday, we discussed the potential for mental roadblocks on our quest for 13.1.  I mean I can already tell you that there's a big difference in my mindset already in my training.  Before, it was all about making it through that 20 or so minutes.  Just running.  Now that there is about twice as much time involved in a run...  there's a two part process: 1) need to conserve energy to make it through the whole thing - mostly a physical thing; 2) me trying to wimp out because it's just SOOO long - mental.  Now #2 was definitely NOT in play in my 5K training, so this is sort of a new thing.  I mean there's a point where you don't want to put too much wear and tear on your body too soon (= smart thing).  However, I know for a fact that for the time being at least, the wear and tear is not the reason for me trying to wuss out. 

It's just too long.  It's just so far.   I know it's an easy run, but I'm going too slow.   I shouldn't even try to do a half-marathon yet... 

Negative garbage.  I felt it about half way through my 40 minute run this morning.  To the point where I was walking it every 15-30 seconds.  Once I focused on just making it to the shorter milestones, just focusing on running my best in the moment...  the negative melted away and I ran the rest of the way. 

On a different note, the weekend was rough.  We'd been planning on going to the Auburn vs. Ole Miss game since the beginning of the season, but knew that Nana wouldn't be there to keep the wee man as she had a delightful trip of her own scheduled that weekend, so my momma was gonna keep him.  Well, my aunt, who has been in a nursing home for quite some time, became gravely ill and my momma felt that it might be best if our baby boy went to stay with my sister instead so she would be able to tend to anything that came up.  My aunt died around midnight on Friday, and Momma was able to tend to the things that she needed to get done for the most part, but my sister was so excited at the prospect of getting to keep him that Momma went ahead and let her take a turn.

I know my baby had a wonderful time (although the game SUCKED), but I tell you, it was awful being away from him for two whole nights.  I realize that it's good to have alone time and to let him get comfortable with other people, but... wow, I guess I just didn't know how hard it would be.  We were just so happy to bring him home again yesterday.

Rewind of my 1st 5K

After 8 weeks of training, the time had come for me to run my 5K.  I'd spent the first 7 weeks on a schedule that included two 20 minute runs, one long run, and two days of cross-training, so when that final week rolled around when it was scaled back to include one 20-minute run, one hour of XT, and one 10-minute run, I felt like I was going to go crazy.  I was so tempted to do more than the schedule directed, but after reading numerous articles about the importance of rest before a race in the weeks previous, I did my best to adjust my eating to accommodate the taper and just veg out pretty much.

Even though the goal of the training was simply to do easy runs, I pushed myself each and every time - of course, when it's just an extra bit nippy outside, the pace seemed to quicken all on its own.  I'd noticed an overall change in my pace from say a 10:00-10:30 minute mile average down to a 9 minute mile.  With the little bit of extra rest, I got down to an 8:30 minute mile average.  It was incredible!  I realize there are all kinds of people who run faster than this, but honestly, it doesn't really matter.  It's just nice to know that I CAN do this!

Toward the end of the week, my mind was consumed with the idea that I must have the perfect outfit as the words of a salesgirl at Fleet Feet in Ridgeland really resonated with me: "It's not how fast you run; it's how cute you look."  I knew that I wanted to wear my Skirt Sports Tough Girl Skirt, but I was a little unsure about the top.  Given that the weather had been so chilly those two weeks or so before the event, I knew I wanted something warm, but I knew that the event issued long-sleeved tee just wasn't going make me feel pretty.   I'd stopped in to a Dick's Sporting Goods store and wander around the women's Nike and Under Armour sections when I'd picked up our "race packets" on Wednesday.  This has become old hat for me - it's the point that I actually feel at home as I browse which could be a sad commentary on my life, but I try to veer from negativity like that. ;)  At any rate, I found the most beautiful white 1/4 zip from Under Armour - the photos on their website don't do it justice.  I really liked it, but as it was full price (as UA stuff generally is), I tried to shrug it off and put it on my Christmas list.  Well.... all I could think about Thursday night/Friday morning was that bloomin' 1/4 zip, so I resolved to seek out my beloved's mother-in-law's assistance in the matter.  Angel that she is - she picked it up on Friday and I washed it that night.  I know, I know.  I broke the "nothing new on race day" rule, but well, what can I say?  I sure did feel cute.

As for the event, I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from a race packet, and to be quite honest, now that I've seen one, I still don't know if I've actually seen a typical race packet.  I was under the impression that we'd have a nice little packet of pertinent information (like a map of the race route, schedule, tips for staying fit/recognizing the signs of breast cancer, etc.) along with our number and t-shirt.  Instead (for individual participants), there was a crate of file folders with race numbers, filed alphabetically by last name.  There were four volunteers working the pick-up table, but only one was working with individuals while the other three were there to assist with group pick-ups.  I should note that the majority of the people who were in line when I stopped by were individuals...  But patience is a virtue that doesn't always come so easily to me.  Once our numbers were located, they along with our t-shirts were put in a plastic pink Bank of America bag.  The only other thing in the bag?  An advertisement for a Komen credit card. 

Our wee man kept waking up, as if he could sense the anticipation in the air.  I woke up around 5AM and did my best to get dressed in the dark before heading downstairs with hopes that Coop could sleep a little longer before his grandparents were called into duty.  I believe I had a banana and a piece of cinnamon raisin toast along with a bit of coffee before we headed over to the mall.  I'd been cool as a cucumber about my actual performance in the race up until that morning.  I mean I knew I could make it through the distance even if I wound up walking, but I was just nervous that I'd do something silly like fall out, trip on my own two feet.... 

We sat in the car for a few moments, just watching the other participants - trying to figure out what our next course of action might be.  We wandered over to where a mass of people were.  We saw the registration tents and then a few information/activity booths...  but the line to get into the booths was at least 50 people long, so no time before the race.  We proceeded to wander over in front of the impromptu stage where a dedicated fitness instructor was leading the aerobic warm-up, which soon turned into a Zumba demonstration.  Props to her for doing it in front of total strangers, but there's no way I would have been able to shake what my momma gave me like that in public without a heavy dose of alcohol involved. 

A few minutes later, we heard some mumble from the stage about lining up at the start - the runners up front and the walkers in the back.  We just sort of followed everyone else because we had no idea where the start line was.  Once we got into what seemed to be the line, I noticed that there were pace range signs up along side the road to help arrange the chaos.  Of course, there were only a handful of people who actually saw the signs.  We finally noticed someone on a lift with a shotgun (tend to notice such things) and we waited to hear the shot.  Finally, it rang out.

Then the pushing and shoving commenced.  Had the start line extended the full length of the road in which we were lined up, it might have been a bit easier going.  As such there was a bit of a bottleneck, so when I finally approached the line, I followed the example of some other runners and ducked under the tape (didn't have a timing chip so it didn't matter).  Then it really began.  I did my best to hold back as it's so easy to speed up to an unsustainable pace at first for me, but I couldn't help myself.  I was passing people left and right.  Brad kept close for the first little bit, and when I pulled away at about the half mile mark UNINTENTIONALLY, I just figured he'd catch up with me eventually.  Somewhere around the first mile and a half, I fell in step with the runners around me.  At any moment, I just knew I'd have to walk, but I figured I'd keep going just as long as I could.  I was running alongside real runners.  I mean how cool was that?? 

The last mile seemed to last an eternity.  I knew the finish line existed somewhere in the vicinity of where I was, but as I rounded the familiar stores, it seemed it had to be moving farther and farther away.  I found myself turning to look for Brad, as his words of inspiration had gotten me through those last seemingly impossible minutes on our training runs many a time, but alas, he was no where to be found.  If I was gonna make it across the line, I was gonna have to pep myself up to do it. 

Just keep picking 'em up and putting 'em down.  That was all I could think. 

When I saw the timer as I crossed the line, it read 28:36.  Brad crossed about 15 seconds later.  I'd set my phone to track my time, but I forgot to stop it when I crossed the first line - however Brad was a bit more diligent with his tracking.  According to his phone, he's finished in 28:14, which would put me right about 28:00!!!  I'd never been able to maintain that sort of pace for the distance!  Yee haw!

We celebrated with friends by having brunch. :D

What Comes Around

On Friday, a friend of mine pointed me in the direction of a book, The Nonrunner's Marathon Guide for Women.  After reading through the snippets available for preview on Amazon, I can say that it looks like a pretty funny read.  I can definitely see where a sense of humor would help you go the distance when your muscles were struggling. 

At any rate, it got me thinking again on running a marathon.  After reading a few of the reviews of this book, I started looking at marathon training schedules as several of the reviewers seemed to voice concern over the very idea of tackling such a task as a marathon with a mere four months of training.  I started by looking at Hal Higdon's plans.  After looking at some other plans in the course of surfing, I checked out the website for the Walt Disney World Marathon.  As part of the site, they include a couple of training plans and in at least one of the plans, they mention running at a 16:00 minute/mile pace.  I couldn't help but scoff.  I mean I typically WALK fast than that.  I felt smug - I mean if I take on a marathon...  I'm gonna take it on.  It's not gonna take me.... Right?

Well if my long run on Saturday was any indication...  the sport is quite capable of putting me in my place.  We ventured to try out our new jogging stroller and I was excited that it was just cold enough to try on my new tights.  My hubby selected a new route to try, too.  He took the stroller from the start as we were going to be tackling some hills.  I ran the first mile and a half with wild abandon - on the winding path shaded by trees up and down the rolling hills.  Then, I found myself struggling for the next mile or so.  It was all I could do to walk - my heart was pounding out of my chest.  I tried to take the stroller for a bit to add a bit of a challenge to my walk, but my chest muscles were shrieking.  I did manage a jog for the last little bit, but my overall pace was about 2:30 off my typical one.  Completely dejected, I would have normally sentenced myself to some make-up time on the treadmill, but I figured I might make up for it the next day after lunch after my mom issued a challenge to see how long it would take for us to run 4 laps around their neighborhood.

Let me just say....  having two cups of coffee and a big meal without a reasonable amount of water...  is not the best prelude to a run in the sun.  We managed two laps before we decided to call it for the day.  The overall pace was a little better than Saturday, but it was still off.  I wasn't the master of the run...  just a humbled participant of the sport.

With a better understanding of my place, I took to the road once again this morning.  Needless to really say... MUCH better run.

On a brighter note, I was glad to see the Preds play this past Saturday.  Hockey season is such a LONG one, so a loss here and there doesn't spell the end of your season (unlike say college football - or at least they like to pretend that a loss in CF is just that), but it was nice to see the Preds win their first game.  Will be interested to see how things go against the Blackhawks in the next game.

Crash into me

It's official.  The regular season of professional hockey is under way.  Yee haw.  And to think... had it not been for the 2010 Winter Olympics...  I would never had taken to this smashing game.   I mean part of what's so appealing about football for me is how aggressive it can be...  Mind you, I don't like when people get hurt, but I can't deny that I like to see big hits (unless it's against a Manning boy or my team).   Hockey is actually more aggressive than football... more scrappy.  That's appealing to me.  Hockey has also given me an appreciation for video games in the sports genre.  I mean I learned so much just playing NHL 10.  Defenders rock.

The hockey team I follow?  The Nashville Predators.  Looking forward to going to a game or two this season.  Shea Weber and Ryan Suter are awesome - even if Weber DID play for Canada in the Olympics.

In other news, after another 40 degree run this morning... I decided it might be time to get a hold of some Under Armour coldgear tights.  Was a bit surprised by the fact that our local stores didn't seem to think it was important to have much in the way of coldgear stuff (at least yet).  The store I eventually purchased some from had exactly ONE pair of tights that just happened to be the size I'd determined I needed.  On my home, I noticed exactly how small the openings for my feet were...  I kept trying to stretch it between my thumb and middle fingers, and it just didn't want to give an inch.  I began to question my sanity for not taking the associate's offer to let me try them on, but I made up my mind.... no matter how it might cut off my circulation... I was going to fit into these tights.   I envisioned a battle, but what I got was like butter on a hot skillet.  Just that smooth.  Granted they WILL NOT ride up, but I don't think I'll have to worry about them falling down either, so I'll be able to run in the cold with confidence. 

Crash and burn....

For at least the past couple of days, I have been ready to crash out in the afternoon.  I'm pretty sure that this is due to the fact that my carbs are a bit low, but I'm having a little difficulty actually making adjustments.  Today, I tried something a bit different and took a little nap...  Definitely feel more rested, but I'm not sure I'll be able to stay awake until bedtime.  Perhaps SOMEONE needs more sleep, but I reckon we'll just have to see.

Last night was the big man's first night in his "big boy" bed.  He hasn't attempted to crawl out yet.  We figured out that his bed could be adjusted to be a crib even at this lower height, but I'm not quite sure that would work out long term as it was hard enough to put him down sometimes when the crib was up a few inches.  So we will just see...

We went to the doc's this morning for his check-up...  He's 25lbs. and 32 in. tall, which is a bit taller and a little heavier than his daddy at the same age.  Even though he was exhausted, that child was just running in circles trying to stay awake.  I was just impressed that he stayed still long enough for the doc to check him out and thankful that my hubby decided to come with us.

Old T's and New Adventures

Yesterday, I pulled out an old game day t-shirt which I thought was destined to line the bottom of one of my drawers.  Picture it - Oxford, MS, on November 22, 2003...  the entire campus was charged up for the last home game of Eli Manning's college career, but the stadium was absolutely electric.  We watched one hell of a game, but in the end, the Rebels came up short to the eventual National Champs.  Still have flashbacks....

At any rate, that t-shirt has always reminded me that the Rebels came up short that night when I first experienced the outright hatred Ole Miss and LSU fans have for one another.  Makes me so glad that I passed on the opportunity to first experience it down in Death Valley the year before.

Well desperate times call for desperate measures...  As I prepared to run yesterday morning, I noticed that the temperature outside was down to 38 degrees.  I'd been trying to decide what the cutoff temperature would be, but my mind finally made itself up at that revelation.  I grabbed a super nice pair of Under Armour Coldgear pants that my in-laws had given me for Christmas last year and cinched them up tight.  Then I reached for this game day t-shirt as it is one of two long-sleeve t-shirts I own AND there are fewer LSU fans around these parts than Alabama fans (the other LS T).   The ensemble certainly helped me to keep warm and toasty as Jack Frost nipped at my nose and toes...

Apparently my boy has decided to really go wild.  Today I heard him stir after about 20 minutes into his afternoon nap, but I figured he'd just nod back off to sleep.  Then I heard a thud.  I ran into his room and he was sitting on the floor beside his crib.  I scooped him up and I held him close.  He cried for a few minutes, but after I checked him over pretty good, he appeared to be just fine... even though I was still really upset. 

Then later this afternoon I was tinkering around on my laptop and I vaguely heard him messing around Toby's pen.  I stood up to see what was going on...  and he had crawled into it.  As soon as he got wind that I'd seen him, he rushed out as if nothing had happened. 

Laissez les bons temps rouler?

Hips don't lie...

Carrying a baby on your hip is much easier when you actually have hips....  This statement is the result of my experience after a quick run into Kroger to check out the specials on produce while I attempted to carry my 20-something pound one-year-old on my incredible shrinking hips.  I found just what I was after in the form of some butternut, buttercup, and acorn squash.  However, being the rambunctious little fella that he is, he was unable to really help me out as I was doing my best to hold him with my left hand on my left hip as I attempted to put the squash into three separate bags.  I almost found myself putting him down, but in no time he'd have taken off to the bakery I'm sure.  I was lucky we made it over to the check-out with my baby, my squash, and my pants still up. 

That would be the one side effect of losing weight.  It's really a nice problem to have, but I do hope that I can make the necessary adjustments before any indecent exposure.   Just mad that Levi's doesn't appear to believe that longer lengths are necessary in sizes below a 6.

For the record, we finally got a chance to run the full 5K distance together this weekend...  managed to get 3.11 miles in 29:00 minutes - super exciting.  Still remember when it was a pipe dream to consider running even ten minutes at a time outside.... 

Just dragging

Well, today my run intervals were set to increase to 10 minutes, and I made it through my first walk/run cycle without passing out even though I was certainly aware of the spicy V8 I drank just before I headed out. I felt like I was making good time compared to my normal pace - I covered 1.25 miles in 11 minutes, but when it came time to start back up... My legs didn't want to go. I could attribute it to a slight wardrobe malfunction with my, erm, support, but that would be a stretch. I tried to convince myself to take another minute to walk before I picked up speed again, but I just wasn't feeling it.

I really showed myself later though... As punishment, I attempted to do my 20 minutes all over again on the treadmill during the boy's morning nap. My average pace was faster than the one from early this morning, but considering I walked the last 7 minutes of my morning run... I would certainly HOPE a straight up run would be faster.

This leads me to believe that I needed a) to take advantage of my rest day yesterday or b) a cup of coffee.

But tomorrow is another day. And luckily a cross-training day.

As crazy as it might sound, I keep waiting for the day when I just decide that enough's enough and I will go back to being lazy me. I mean I've been pretty good about taking my physical fitness seriously this year, but there are quite a number of years before that which clearly demonstrate my natural tendency to be lazy.

All through school, I wanted to be one of those thin, beautiful girls that everyone seemed to admire. Instead I was just a nerd who played saxophone and was a little overweight. Marching was about the most athletic thing I did at a school where most of the self-proclaimed "popular" kids were generally pretty sporty. I had my fair share of friends, but the kids who hounded me were pretty vocal and persistent. There are days where I still think about some of the things they said.

In that world, I would never have been able to do the things I've done this far, and there's a certain amount of satisfaction I have in knowing that they cannot keep me from being who I'd like to be or doing the things I'd like to do. I have control over my own life. That's empowering.

With that in mind, my friend Jen posted a link to this video on Facebook. It inspired me so that I felt the need to share it as well.



But to leave on a lighter note, I had to share this one from Peyton and a few of his Colt teammates. Too funny.

Have I told you lately....

That I LOVE the Manning boys...  I must admit that I was pulling for Peyton during the "Manning Bowl", but I hated to see the Giants' O-Line let the Colts defenders just keep pummeling Eli.  At any rate, I saw this video yesterday morning, and while I'm sure there are people out there who are probably tired of hearing about these boys, I absolutely love them.  I love to watch them play normally, but I also have a deep appreciation for the kind of people they seem to be and the close bond they share. I must warn you though... it is extremely catchy, so watch at your own risk. ;)

No room for petulance

Training has continued to go pretty well in spite of the fact that I now have two bum big toes.  During my 20 minute runs, I have managed to improve my speed just a few seconds even with longer run intervals (8 minutes), and I'm curious as to what I'll find when the intervals are increased to 10 minutes on Thursday.  My long run last Saturday was really quite fun as I once again got to venture out with my hubby, and we were able to push one another's limits even if the average speed was a little slower.  The neat thing about it is that we were pretty close to making the 5K distance in the time that was allotted (30 minutes).  Well, at the very least, a lot closer than we would have been a few weeks ago.

After our run on Saturday, we once again ventured into Oxford for an Ole Miss football game at what seemed an unreasonable hour - kickoff was at 11:22AM.  If you follow such things, you know that it was a terrible game for Ole Miss fans particularly, but I learned two important PERSONAL lessons: 1) if you don't plan on eating at a lunchtime game, make sure you eat more for breakfast - and do NOT allow yourself to go with a calorie deficit; 2) stay well hydrated.  By the third quarter, I had "cotton-mouth" despite the fact that Brad was generous enough to share his water (as I blew through my bottle in the first half) and felt nauseous.  I hated to run out on our boys, but I felt like I might not make it back to the car at all if I did not leave with about 8 minutes left in the 4th quarter.  We stopped by the Rebel Shop and picked up a couple bottles of Powerade.  There was no friendly sprint back to the car...  it was all I could do to make it back to the car, where I just soaked up the cool air from the A/C.  Later, that night, I went into a terrible "freak out" session, but luckily, Brad was there and once he brought me some more water (I had been drinking like a fish ever since we returned home), I calmed back down & went back to normal.  Scary stuff. 

Of course, the most pressing thing on my mind as of late has no relation to either my training or lack of preparation for attending a game in the heat of the day.  Instead, it revolves around a seemingly simple concept: self-worth is self-evident.  Your worth is inherent from the moment you are created and is not derived from the perception of others or your own actions.  If you feel that the only way that you can feel secure in yourself is to put down another person, then you are setting yourself up to be disappointed in the long run. 

In some form or fashion, we are all products of our pasts (even though our actual value is a separate thing entirely).  Some people have experienced more pain and suffering than others, but you have a choice: you can let these bad things keep you down or you can rise above them.  You can assume that everyone is out to get you or give folks the benefit of the doubt.  I personally prefer the latter.  That certainly doesn't mean that I am confident all people like me, but I do my best to bring reason back into the equation.

However, if I am unable to convince myself that a person meant no harm, then I will more than likely take action.  If I have done wrong by another person, then I have no problem apologizing for my actions, and believe me when I say that I will dwell on it for longer than I should.  However, I will refuse to apologize for your ignorance.  I will feel no remorse for something I did not do.  When you feel you are unable to obtain the type of relationship that you desire with another person because of my relationship with that person - not because I have done anything to impede its development but merely because I exist, I will not apologize.  If you want something, put in the "legwork".  I will do my best to help you in any way that I can to obtain what you desire, but I will not accept childish petulance or any reference to what someone else has done to you.  If you want respect from me, treat me with respect.  Regardless of what you do, I will make the best of a bad situation, but believe me when I say this... my self-worth will stay intact.

On a lighter note, the smell of baked pumpkin mixed with cinnamon, nutmeg, & ginger is really quite intoxicating....  Looking forward to an Autumn Smoothie.