Don't Tempt me with Impossible

Today I am going to attempt the impossible.

I will write a clever blog post about Next Years Goals.  Oh, I know, it sounds like an impossible task, but, it would be truly out of character if I didn't try.

I suppose it would be logical to see how I did last year.

Keep the 4.0 and apply to/get accepted into nursing school.  check. and check.

stop cussing.  ~about. that.~
start back writing again... and...
donate my hair.... oh crap!  Total fail on personal goals.  My hair was rejected - it's too weak.  and... SEE ABOVE NOTE ABOUT 4.0 on FAIL regarding writing book again.

Eat Clean - you know what?  I'm not a fail.  I'm not a pass.  We still eat OREOs... sometimes, we also eat vegetarian and organic when we can - which is a lot more than we used to... I've eaten 1 salad per day for most of the past month.  And, seriously, imagine what I would look like if I hadn't done that.

Run Goals...  from last year included run with good form and increase my weekly milage.  I'm going with a Fail/Pass on that.  My form is good if Greg Roth is staring at me when I'm running up and down hills in Rain Tree... if he's not... well, then photography shows its a crap shoot.  As in, my form is crap if there's a camera to shoot it.  And increase weekly milage - snicker snicker... if you'd told me in January that I would run not one but THREE 50 mile weeks, or ever log 28 miles in 3 days, I would tell you to stop. smoking. crack.  But I did both of those things, and so much more.  And finally, run 1000 miles.  I exceeded that by, well, a lot.

Lose 5 pounds.  Well, just like Bridget Jones - I lost 5 pounds, and gained 5 pounds.  Making my weight today the same as it was on this day last year.  wow.

SO - forward and onward...

IN 2011 -

Don't get hurt. (form)

Keep Swimming. (Cross)

Run Further. (keep milage base)

Survive Nursing School. (keep milage base)

Run More Miles (no number, I'm not going to limit myself)

Achieve at least one GBA PR. (add intensity/core work to routine)

Lose the 5 pounds again, preferably before November. (count calories, keep them pure)

Invincible Fail

you know that feeling of invincibility that the post marathoning runner gets, just after they finish a GBA marathon?  It seems like 40 miles a week is "so do-able" and "why not just go out and do a 16 miler as a run because it's a Tuesday and I can..."?

Well I do.

And that is so not where I'm at right now.

I lost my run.

Or it lost me.

We lost each other.

MIA? or AWOL?  It's hard to say.

Somewhere in all the kleenex and Dr's appointments reminder cards and balled up wrapping paper and piles of trash produced by Christmas... my run was accidentally thrown away.  I mean, I'm not sure that's what happened.  I think that it's a possibility though.  I had my run a few days before Christmas, and then BAM! it was gone.

Just like that?

Just. Like. That.

Seriously though, I've caught a cold that has moved into an upper respiratory infection... viral, they say... though do they really know?  no.  they don't.  but that's what they say.  So, I'm completely incapable of drawing a pain free running breath.

I can breathe fine, if I'm laying on the couch.  Under a blanket.  After a nap.  But any exertion on my part results in severe tiredness and paleness, and some coughing that is... awesome.

And yea, it's way past my bedtime, but I'm awake.  You know why?

Well, it's probably the lack of run.

Or the 4 hours of naps I took today... after sleeping till 10ish.

The Season of Inadequate Mothering

I'm feeling a little behind this year.

Well, to be honest, I'm pretty much more behind than I've ever been since 1999.

Tis the season though, so I've got to get it all done if possible.  Though, I think it's safe to say at this point that SOME things are NOT going to get finished.  We're at the part of the race where you're 2 miles from the finish, the PR is totally busted and you're not going to achieve it - but you've still got to finish the darned race before the clock ticks past the "allowed time on course".

It's Christmas Eve and I've managed not get all the gifts wrapped, nor have I even PURCHASED everything for the stockings!  I've managed not to write my annual Christmas Poem (which is generally EPIC... ahem), or write a newsletter or produce the holiday COMIC.  Yes, normally I write a full holiday comic... here is a past comic so you can see how high I set the bar...

there's a water mark because I haven't re-purchased the program this year.  

Depressing - I always leave it as a TBC, and I didn't manage to continue it!  Uhg.  But at this point, I should tell you that the comic usually takes about 3 hours that involve curse words and a furrowed brow.  So.  It's not going to happen.

We even went to Disney this year!  Really I should have written the comic, sent the card and a newsletter bragging about all the great things we did there.  The newsletter could have also bragged about the fact that of the 400 people who applied to the nursing program I applied to, I was one of the 37 chosen.  Nice to feel elite in SOMETHING.  I also WON my age group in a 5K, and seriously, THAT right there is newsletter worthy.  But as I said, no comic & no newsletter.

I DID manage to send out 12 (yes, only TWELVE) Christmas cards yesterday so that people like my Grandmother will be able to show off their great-grand kids pictures....

SO, as I was saying, LOTS of things I haven't done.

BUT here are some other things I haven't done.

I haven't had to call the police once this holiday season.  A first in a while.  Seriously, wish I was kidding.

AND I haven't had to call a plumber, though, there's still time for that to "correct" itself.

Christmas Gifts Galore

We're going LOW KEY this year.  

OK?

We're NOT going over board, here.  

From this track I will NOT sway.

We're POOR, 

we're SAVING, whatever you want to call it, we're 

NOT GOING OVER BOARD ON CHRISTMAS GIFTS GALORE.

We're ... 

H, what did you just say?

You got the kids WHAT???

Ooooooooooh Kay.

Meet O'Malley, Formerly the STRAY cat known as Will Feral, who has officially been transferred over to his new home, Chez Moi.

inspiration

I'm not uninspired these days.  I'm OVERinspired, and UNFOCUSED.

I have 688 great ideas.  No means to get them onto a paper/computer screen/etc.

This isn't a great combination for a blogger/writer/mother/student.

Oh, and did I mention my mom will be here in less than a week & my house looks like it hasn't been cleaned since the Fall Semester started?

built for Speed?

I am a brick. HOUSE.  I'm built to go the distance.  I have ridiculously HUGE quad muscles on a ridiculously short frame.  I look like a tank.  It's OK.  I'm OK with this...  I don't go out to 5K's to win anything.  I'm not built for speed.  I'm an endurance runner.

I go out to raise money, hang out with my friends, do a "speed workout", test my latest heart rate/fitness level.  This is why I do 5K's.  I don't train for them, I certainly just figure that I'm always 5K ready.  I've run some stupid 5K's too.  For example, raise your hand if you've run a 5K during a Tropical Storm?

(me)

SO, as a marathoner, who just raced a 10 miler 8 days ago, who didn't taper, train or prepare for this race beyond the purchase of a few additional toys for the Tots and a cute pair of socks, I arrived to run a 5K Sunday.  In the cold.  Rain.

Of course, this is the social event of my Sunday - so let's get to the important stuff... I wore this:

and Kc, Honey, we need to get you some more color.

We met 3L and Kara (who's really going to need to get a blog name ASAP) and prepared to run our 5K by standing around gabbing in the rain.  

good stuff.  The pre-race photo looks a bit, "bundled"...

Kc, g., Kara & 3L

We made our deals and our plans, and lined up at the start.  I know these ladies are fast.  I decided I was just going to CHASE them.  

We blew out of the start going WAY WICKED too FAST.  I knew I couldn't hold a 6:40 pace, and pulled back.  At about mile .4 I saw 3L for pretty much the last time.  I spent the rest of the race on Kc's and Kara's heels.  I was just trying to hang at a sub 8 for the whole race.  WTHeck.  I'm not built for speed.  This body does NOT enjoy sprinting.

I sloshed and pushed and slushed through the rain, and my personal favorite, WIND to a nice and happy 20 second PR!  Twenty Seconds in RAIN on a 5K!  Yea, I was pleased.  Then we went to see if 3L had won her age group.

We harassed Q for a bit, watched Kara's car get jumped when it wouldn't start, all hanging out in the hopes that they would announce the winner for 3L's group.  Q gave us the good news that 3L had indeed won, but the official results were not up.  I wanted to stay so I could snap a photo of her getting her ribbon.  

Alas, my babysitter called, it was getting "long" and Kc & I had to leave.  At least we left KNOWING that 3L had indeed WON!  

But the best thing came about 15 minutes later.  A text from 3L to ME...

"You won your age group."

No.  Way.

"Way."  

Kara won her age group.  3L won her age group.  Kc placed 3rd in her age group.  Seriously, we were just a PACK of Galactic BA**s today.  There's no other way to put it!  

Language Immersion Programs

I was thinking about my spoiled children, and realized how spoiled I am.

I live in one of the BEST running (small) cities in the country.  I'm being serious for a change.  I was just reading the local Road Runners newsletter for last month (homework/cleaning/holiday avoidance) over breakfast and wow.  It is very well written for a small publication.  It's about the same size as the daily newspaper in Bermuda, but.... did I mention how the RRRC publication is well written?  So, I'm a month behind.  I have a 4.0...  if I wasn't at least a month behind on my magazine subscriptions we'd be worried.

Anyhoo....  In it was a tribute to what makes Richmond such a great running town.  The article listed 5 things.

If I had to choose only ONE thing that makes Richmond a great running town, it might have to be Sportbackers.  Truly.  Sportsbackers works hard to make running THE topic of conversation for 8 months of the year.  I arrived in Richmond, having lived in VA for most of my life, only to discover that I didn't speak the language of Richmond.

I was not Running Second Language.

If you're not running, or married to a runner, or know a runner... then you're not going to be able to follow along with conversations at parties in Richmond.  I'm serious, because a few years ago:

I was not a runner.  

not married to a runner.

didn't really know any runners.

and all I could do at parties was rely on someone else to please-god-change-the-subject-to-something-I-know-and-understand.

It makes me wonder if I would have ever taken up running if we'd moved to DC, Atlanta, or Phoenix instead of Richmond.  That was the short list when my husband was taking interviews.  Without the constant immersion of hearing about the Monument Ave 10K race here in March, followed by constantly hearing about people training for the 8K/Marathon in November, followed again by that stupid 10K and "enough already, why are you people all talking about running that 10K again, didn't you already RUN it ALREADY???  I could never run that far.  Ever.  In my life."  

I just think about that now and laugh to myself.  I'm so lucky that THAT WASN'T TRUE!


A little side note here, but I wonder what else I've ever said about my own limitations that wasn't true...

I'm lucky to have found myself in such a community of runners.  Runners are GREAT people.  Selflessly selfish.  It's an oxymoron of stupid proportion.  But -

A runner will selflessly give you their last kleenex.

A runner will selfishly take 3 hours for themselves to go run.

What brought me to running?  T.  TMB brought me to running.

What else brought me to running?  A lucky break on landing in a city where the second language spoken is Running.

Virtual 5K link -

Hey - my bloggy friend Alex (the one who got voted off Taper Island to go do an Ironman...) is hosting a Virtual 5K.  Go check it out and give her some love!

part 2

I know I just posted, 3 minutes ago...  but...

I FEEL LIKE I AM GOING TO EXPLODE FROM STRESS!

and what did we learn?

I'm big on two things.

Learning from our mistakes.

Not deviating from the routine.

Lately I've had SO much going on that I'm always trying to fit ONE more thing in, which leads to deviating from the routine, general lateness -which I loathe, and plenty of mistakes to learn from.

What was today's lesson?

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DEVIATE FROM THE ROUTINE AT 5AM.

It could result in arriving at the planned group run, with no running shoes.

bloggy drought?

Yea.  


No.  


Not exactly a drought.


It's finals week.


I have a paper due.

and 3 finals.


oh, and yea, there's this little holiday that you may have heard of in a few weeks, something about the birth of the savior or something like that...


to the kids its about a guy with a weight problem who doesn't use a razor.


or a car.


and he has unlimited money.


and elves to make anything he can't afford.


which sadly I don't have.  or unlimited money either.


~sigh~  I feel like little Wednesday Addams in The Addams Family Values.


I'm not cheery.  (well that's for damn sure)  But I want to be.

SurfnSanta 10 Miler Race Recap

At the "last minute" I registered for the SnS 10miler.  My friend Joan was running it as her official "come back to running" race.  I wanted to run it when I found out about it in October or so.... but worried how it would fit in my schedule, worried I would get injured at the marathon, worried how I would perform with less than a month of recovery after the marathon, etc and so forth.  I was NOT worried about which socks I would wear.

Yesterday I decided that I would run THIS one for my brother.  Next year maybe we can run it together. And by together, I mean I'll be 6 - 7 minutes behind him....

So the recap...

This morning I woke up at 3:33, got up, dressed and hit the road by 4:30am. As I drove, the station was playing one of my brother's favorite bands from when we were teenagers (Beck).  And then another favorite (Primus), followed by another (The Meat Puppets), and another... and I thought, THIS is going to be a good day.

So I made a race plan based on my idea of best case scenario.  Race the first two miles at 8:45's, speed up to an 8:35 or so and finish strong.  It was a 2 hour drive.  I had time to do math.  I wanted the clock to read 1:26:something when I finished.  I knew I could do that if I worked hard.  I set my watch to show Pace and Average Pace.  And nothing else.

Kudo's to the race organizers for CUTE stuff in the Packets.  We got bib#'s w/ chips attached, a wind jacket, Santa Hats, and... 2 jingle bells to tie on our SHOES!!!  Seriously, HOW CUTE IS THAT?  I debated the bells and finally decided, why not?

Aren't these socks SUPER?

Joan and I met up and hung out for a bit.  We failed to connect to Pants Guy, despite us looking for him and he for us, and finally we just headed to my car to drop off my phone, and then to corral #2.  Technically she was corral #3, but I felt that waiting in the cold (36degrees) for an extra 2 minutes wasn't a super plan.

Joan & I, right before we went outside to race!

When the pack of runners started running ALL our jingle bells were so CUTE!  Ring Ring Ring through the (vacant) Virginia Beach Ocean Front.

For the first 2 miles Joan & I ran together.  We joked and laughed, and I was SO happy to be running with her.  At the mile 2 marker there was an S curve and I took a straight line through the center, i.e. "ran the tangent".  I passed about 10 people in that moment and heard Joan say, "Have a good race!"

At this point I was on the boardwalk and it was tough going.  Very windy.  So, I settled in behind a tall guy running a pace I felt good with...  and passed him and found another guy... and got winded when he sped up more so I fell in behind a third guy, and before I knew it it was time to make the turn onto Atlantic.  Down Atlantic Ave I felt good, but I vowed not to get carried away.  I still had 5 miles left to run, so I held steady at my 8:30something pace.  It was easier than the boardwalk because the wind was blocked by the hotels.

Then we had a little out and back and I saw Joan and cheered for her!  She looked good.  The course was 2 loops.  A large one and a small one.  My second trip down the boardwalk loop was a little tougher.  I had lost my wind blocking men and was running about 12 feet behind an 88 pound girl in white socks.  She made for a poor wind block. I kept her in my sights through the turn, and then I realized four things.

I was at mile 9.
I had no idea how much time had elapsed on the course because my watch wasn't set up to show me that information.
Jingle bells on two hundred shoes are only cute for the first 9 miles of a run.
I felt really good & needed to re-adjust my goals.

I tried to run an 8 minute mile all the way to the finish.  It was close, I ran an 8:06.  I passed the white sock girl and said, "C'mon!  You've got this!"  She tailed me all the way in, I beat her by maybe thirty seconds.  I ran across the finish line, which was INSIDE the Virginia Beach Convention Center, stopped my watch, and went through the "line" of medals, food, drink, etc. and finally, after I got to the agreed meeting place for me & Joan... I looked at my watch.... what?  What?  Um... What does it mean?

Joan finished and I was SO proud of her finish!  She looked strong and happy!  I told her my time, and I was still foggy (I get that way sometimes after I finish a race, it's just me).  She CHEERED for me with a HUGE smile and said, "It's a G.B.A** TIME!"

It took a few minutes for me to realize my accomplishment.  I beat my goal by almost a MINUTE.  I was a little hesitant to celebrate though.  Does it make me arrogant to celebrate my own greatness???  Joan pointed out that it is "OK to be PROUD of ourselves.  It is OK to celebrate your OWN greatness.  Be PROUD".

Today I got a PR, and I am a PR.

Proud Runner. 1:25:11,  SnS 10 Miler.

relative running

My brother is a family guy, married to a SAHM, 2 kids, 2 dogs and 1 cat... who serves in the US Military on the other side of the world.  I talked to him today on SKYPE and it made me SO THANKFUL for technology.  I could see him, hear his laugh, look at his crooked grin that looks like the male version of my crooked grin...  He runs his hands through his cropped hair the way I tuck mine behind my ears and untuck it from behind my ears...  it was great.

Growing up my brother was my best friend.  From the time we were about 13 & 16 until he left home at 19 we were inseparable.  We talked every day, and when he was at boot camp I sent him letters.  When he was deployed I was late for school (and got detention) because I drove him to the base and waited until the boat pulled away.  Those of you who 'know' me know that I'm never late.  So it was a big deal.   But he was in subs, and you never knew if they might change their mind and not "sail" that day... so I waited.

Today we talked for about 20 minutes.  It was the first time we'd talked in a long time.  The last time our connection was screwy and we couldn't connect.  We "texted" on 4th of July.  Seriously.  We texted.  And while that sounds lame, I was thankful for the interaction because it meant he was OK that day.

Today it was late for him, he'd been up for 20 hours or so, so he was tired, and he kept yawning.  It was a video chat, so I kept yawning back.  We were yawning together.

He's taken up running.  He's bored over there, so despite never running more than a 5K before, he's training.  And now we're racing each other.  He just raced a 15K that measured 9.6 miles.  Well, it's a military base, I guess they're not "measuring accurately" for the races.  This weekend I'm running a 10miler.  It's going to have to be "close enough".

And it's not really fair, he kicks my butt EVERY RACE.  I mean, seriously, he trains at a 8:30 pace!  He showed me his sprint technique from his desk.  And we laughed at how ridiculous he looked exaggerating so much for my sake over here.

But it's OK, because it's something we do that gives us something to talk about with each other.

It's harder than it sounds, by the way, talking across an ocean and desert.  Because there's an ocean AND a desert... and a sea and a few countries between us, I can't always say what I want to say, and neither can he.

Tomorrow's race is for the one's who can't race where they want to...

BornFit Sisterhood

A few weeks ago I was asked to be part of the BornFit Motherhood of the Traveling Shirt.

The way it works it that you're supposed to send the shirt to a mother who inspires you, and I was honored (actually choked up a little) to be "invited to the sisterhood" by a dear friend of mine.

Thank you, TMB.  You inspire me too.

I enjoyed the shirt for two weeks, here's a little write up about it.

And now my time with the shirt is over, and I've sent the it on to a Mother and runner who inspires me.

little helping hands

Today B-nut and I were making her second lunch, which consisted of (yea, don't you eat 2 lunches every day?)... which consisted of 1/2 a cucumber and a dozen or so grapes.  After the grapes were washed I put them on the table in a bowl for her to eat out of while I sliced the...

"I'll get the sharp knife!" B-nut says as she darts across the kitchen and pulls a HUGE knife out.

Excellent.

Just.  Excellent.

She's taller than I thought.

It's all good though.  No accidents to report.  Today

bubbles and brakes

In an effort to stay ONE with the Hamstring, I have decided to employ a rigorous cross training approach to the National Marathon Training schedule.  Because I hate my bike with a passion that burns as brightly as 10,000 suns am not a huge fan of my bike I've been swimming a lot.  Usually I get out in the pool like the galactic bada** that you all are familiar with.... it's nice to be good at something, and I don't suck at swimming.

Yea.  About.  That.

Todays swim was epically bad.

Like.  Epic.

As in, all I could see through my goggles was bubbles (read that and understand that bubbles are bad, they're like the red light on the back of the car.  If you all you can see is a wall of bubbles, you're applying your brakes while using the gas pedal).  So I tried to tweak my form.  And completely fell apart.  Enter the part where I gasped in a mouthful of H2O.  That was attractive, I'm sure.  The woman who isn't the life guard, but does actually work at the gym pool walked over to ask if I was "ok".


well.  yes.  other than feeling 1 inch tall.  "I'm fine".

I couldn't hold my form.

I couldn't hold pace... because I couldn't hold form.

I switched to back stroke, thinking that would help.  Um.  Yea.  I ended up having to do rifle drills to get my arms in sync.  I felt like a little beginner swimmer out there today.

sigh.  It's OK.   Because tomorrow is a new day. 

rust colored medicine

My long run this weekend wasn't Blue.  It was monochromatic though, spanning 11.2 miles of the Outer Banks, specifically Buxton, NC.  I'm lucky, really, that I know my way around and can run from Shutter Up (our beach cottage) to the National Sea Shore in only a few short turns.

The sky was shockingly bright, so much so that the color had leached out of it and it was nearly white.  And the seashore was acres upon acres of dried sea grass, wild oats, all which have dried into a rusty orange brown color.  Soft puffy cotton still clung to the dried black stalks of the wild cotton plants scattered within the expanse.  The brackish tidal pools were indigo, today, reflecting the cloudless sky with false intensity.

The black and white monolith watched over me with her solitary eye as I ran down the empty roads normally inhabited with tourists and park rangers.  She was my posse today, and she was always with me, just behind me or just ahead, as I ran through the park.  The lone witness.

The wind was beating me and the grasses in a primitive pulsing and humming melody that complimented the back beat of the ocean beside me.  Piercing gusts shrieked as it cut through the bone colored tree trunks that thrust out of the brush like giant hands.  Now and then, as I ran, the roar of wind in my ears was interrupted with the crack of a nearby rifle.  Because of the perceived closeness of the hunters, I detoured and fought the wind for an extra mile.  The tears on my cheeks were not from pain or fear, or even sadness for my fallen deer friends, but from the chilly air squeaking past my sunglasses.  They mingled with sweat and snot.

So, it wasn't a speedy run, and it wasn't a perfect run.  My pace and effort were seriously affected by the wind.  But, in some regards it was just what I needed.

It was a run, and I was free to run it.

Slack Jawed

I've given up trying to inspire some people to run, because I have learned that for them the answer is always going to be "the only time I'm going to run is if there's a bear chasing me".  Or, my favorite, "you ran for 4 miles?  That's crazy" and I'm thinking, um, 4 miles is the absolute shortest distance I would ever run these days.

So, the main culprit of these remarks is my H.  H is a good guy for the most part, he's just a little old fashioned about some things and fitness is one of them.  Remember back in the day (like, last Thursday?) people used to believe that in order to be "fit" all you had to do was do aerobic exercise for 30 minutes/3 days a week?  Well, that is H.  My favorite quotes from him in the last few months are, "but... why are you going to the pool, you just ran yesterday?"  and "you're going to run?  Again?"

Yesterday, that shuddering of the earth that you felt as it stopped on it's axis was caused by H's off hand comment that SOUNDED at LOT LIKE "So, tomorrow when you go running, can I go with you?"

(followed by the breathless gasping sound of me sitting with my jaw slack while blinking in confusion)

I figured it was an off the cuff thing, but this morning when I got dressed to run, H got dressed to run too.

And off I went for a 10 mile run, and off he went for "as much run as he could handle".  He's NOT a runner, so I let him pick the pace and he immediately set out fast (for him, he's a newbie).  "H?  Do you know you're running a XX:30 pace?  Are you comfortable?"  His gasp of pain was an indication that we should slow, so we did.  He ran 1.5 miles exactly in about 17:35, which is HUGE.  I'm proud of him for trying something new.

After I got back from my 11.2 miler - more on THAT tomorrow I'm sure, he said to me, "You know, I hate to say this, but... this running thing, you are right... it was much more fun than I thought it would be."

But when I suggested that he train for the BIG 10K here in April, he declined.  Too many people.  So for the moment, I will just encourage him to run as much as I can, without nagging him, in the hopes that this Running Thing catches him the way it caught me... or... I caught it.


For those who know him, please be encouraging without making him self conscious.  I know you know who you are, and I know you'll do your best?

Blue Eyes

I'm all about embracing the Post Marathon Blues so I can GET over them... and you know, I can think of some GOOD blue things that I am happy to have in my life...

I'm Thankful for:

My Blue eyed son for keeping me entertained.
My blue eyed cat for keeping me company during my insomniac episodes.
My blue eyed Step Father for keeping my mother happy in the caribbean blue waters of Bermuda.
The Blue eyed Illusive Dave for keeping me in touch with my inner Hamstring.
A certain Blue eyed SDD for keeping my self esteem high.
My Blue eyed Brother keeping us all safe by serving in Iraq.
and last but not least-
Blue eyed Doodle for keeping B-Nut happy.

BLUE Business

In my blue-ness I was thinking about my blog, and how much it has evolved over the past few months as I became completely obsessed with running and art, and how my blogging about mommy-hood has decreased.  Of course, this whole reflection was made at 7:45am as I was listening to Eminem's Business while driving my Beige Mini-van home from the grocery store- and who else but a MOM would be DONE grocery shopping that early?  *for the record, I was alone in the van. my 4 year old doesn't know the unlyrical lyrics just yet...

My beauty process today included brushing my hair, swiping my fingers under my eyes, and brushing my teeth, before dressing in running clothes.  I'm not wearing them because I was running, though.  I changed into clean running clothes after my run.  The reason I'm in running clothes is because A) my wardrobe is pitifully small and B) I had 15 minutes to make a 25 minute grocery run. C) it's the day before ThanksGiving and frankly... running clothes seemed appropriate.

As I was sprinting through the store grabbing bananas, milk and eggs, which, by the way, are as far away from each other in the 13 acre grocery store as physically possible, I'm certain I was looking a bit like a half crazed lunatic.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw a magazine with Brad & Angie on the cover.

Ever since Angie and I were pregnant together, I feel a certain sisterhood to her, you know?  We're just alike.  Except that she's a 109 pound 6ft tall beautiful, rich, husband stealing, humanitarian, model-slash-actress married to Brad who can afford to hire 28 people to help with her mob of kids.

But, other than that, we're just alike.

We're moms who have the nerve to go to the store wearing no makeup and a scowl.

Of course, the true difference is that no one in Kroger is going to publicly criticize me for buying Frosted Fruity Oh's for my sick child because she's miserable and I thought, "Oh, I'll buy something she doesn't normally get so she can have some calories."  Sure, someone might quietly look in my cart and think, why would she buy that crap, but they're not going to publish it on a cover of anything.

But my life is like Angie's - or so the cover of the magazine tells me.  We're struggling with some "depression" thingy, while surrounded by kids and the staff who helps us care for them... wait... my staff has failed to show up for work 10 years in a row...

Life is messy, cluttered with a side of childhood, topped with a helping of junk mail, served with the chaos of 5 people in one space.  And, for the most part, I'm OK with that, Blues and all... And on that note, I think I'll put on some hard core rap and get down to the Business of mommy-hood, Hosting Thanksgiving, and all the junk that goes in between.

BLUE Flash Back

Decided to RE-NAME every thing on the blog in the name of the PMBs for a few days.  I can get RID of these BLUES... and what better way to do it than to see how FAR I HAVE COME.

SO, remember when I said I used to have weight problem?  People always seem to act like I'm making it up or something because they never really knew me before kids.

Well.

I have the proof.

This photo is circa 1993.

Looking at it I have a few thoughts:

1) I can figure out why that boy I liked didn't like me.

2) I can figure out why my mother thought I was a lesbian.

3) I can figure out that peasant blouses just aren't for the "busty" girl.

~sigh~  

written on the back - Spring '93, "Drama Geeks".

me & H, "present day"

singing the blues

I was struck down.

Completely out of the blue.

By the post-marathon blues.

They incapacitated me.  Truly, I stood in my house in the middle of the living room with no motivation.  I'm HOSTING thanksgiving.  I have THREE kids.  I assure you that there was plenty to do.  Go ahead, ask me what I did for three hours today.

Nothing.
I didn't read.
I didn't watch TV.

I sat on the couch, I did nothing at all.   I sat there with B-nut ("we sat there we two") ...under a blanket while she watched hours of PBS in a row.  This is not my scene.  But, I just. couldn't. move.

Here's where I went wrong:  I thought that knowing they were a possibility would ward them off.  I thought that having my huge week last week would help buffer them.  I thought that being registered for the next thing would help.  I thought that a galactically bada** PR would save me.

There's a phrase out there... the bigger they come, the harder they fall.

Yea, well you know what?  It applies to all things.  The birth of a child- what could be bigger?  The "perfect" marathon experience - what could make a runner more high? *shelly, don't answer that  The 8 year old asking to vacuum?  Seriously.

Crashing down... down down down.  You know what I need?  (don't say chocolate, I did a little chocolate today and now I feel hungover AND guilty).  ART.  That's what I need.  A little Art Therapy.

If I survived the Taper... surely I can survive the post marathon blues... right?  RIGHT?

it's not really paranoia

Paranoia, paranoia
Everybody's coming to get me
Just say you never met me
I'm running underground with the moles
Digging in holes

Hear the voices in my head, I swear to god it sounds like they're snoring
But if you're bored, then you're boring
The agony and the irony, they're killing me

I'm not sick, but I'm not well
And I'm so hot, cos I'm in hell

I'm not sick, but I'm not well
And it's a sin, to look this well



but, it's not really paranoia...if everyone really is staring at you.

Well, not everyone, but ... I swear, I thought I was imagining it, but I found myself in a social situation yesterday where this one person kept staring at me.  I don't know this person very well.  Read that - at all.  I see them once in a while around town at various running junk.

I thought it was because this individual is a very hard core very serious nearly elite runner and I'm a squishy momof3 who looks a lot like... a squishy mom of 3 in tall socks and short skirt.  So fine.  I get it, I'm not elite, and I wear a short skirt, and maybe you think I am mocking your sport.  I'm not.  I happen to like tall socks.

Except that then I saw them at the Pasta-thon... and... more awkward staring.  Needless to say, in my plain back T-shirt and jeans I was not "standing out".

So, yesterday I engaged the person in direct conversation - half expecting them to say "You look like my kid's piano teacher." or "Did you know your headlights are turned on.... your car".  Or anything.  But nope.  Instead I just got this intensity and weirdness, like they didn't know what to say since I'd gone on the offensive (I was UBER polite, even "smiley", I swear).

It's not like complimentary staring, it's like... if I found out I looked like the person who kicked their cat when they were a kid, or like the girl who broke their son's heart in highschool... well... let's just say I wouldn't be surprised.

I swear, I am not THAT self centered that I think everyone is watching me.  I do my own fair share of people watching at social events.  There are a few people, men and women, who I particularly enjoy watching....

Of course, maybe that person is staring at me because I'm paranoid now and watch them out of the corner of my eye.  Somewhere, another person in Richmond is writing this same blog post about the crazy woman in the short skirt/tall socks who was watching them out of the corner of her eye....

Recovery Re-Cap

Well, my week of recovery is wrapping up, which is a good thing because I'm ready to dive into my next training plan.

I ran quite a bit this week, considering I gave myself permission to take the week off.  I just ran when and how I felt like, not concerning myself with pace or "finishing" the miles.  One day I set out for 3 and ran 4.  One day I set out for 5 and ran 4.3.  It just doesn't matter this week, as long as my legs and lungs were moving and enjoying the Richmond weather.  So far I'm 24 miles into the week, I have a five miler left on the books tomorrow, and my average pace is a 9m/mi.  Sure, sounds great.  That's what happens when you take the LSD out of my week... wait... I meant Long Slow Distance.

In the mean time, I will leave you all with a few photos that the kind people at Brightroom were happy to take for me.  They're legal- I bought them.

maybe mile 13ish?  dunno, never saw the photographer.

you know what would have been nice to have on race day?  my running form.  Yea, dude -... toe?  what's that?

 Remember that coach I bragged about named Karasmatic?  

Well, you can just tell how awesome she is by looking at my face in this photo.... which was taken at MILE 22 ~ seriously, who looks like this at mile 22?  Dunno, but I sure do look like I'm having the time of my life?  Want to run a marathon?  Run Richmond and you too can look like this...

oh, but wait... just a mere 2 miles later...

you have this glorious photo where all the pain of the day is written across my forehead as T pulls me down the road.  I don't know if I've just heaved or if I'm just about to....  

(hello, 1-800-Botox?)

Here I am at the finish!  Realizing that I'd attained a substantial PR... but no clue what it really was because my watch & I had a senior moment.

pain?  what pain?  There's no one here by that name...

 And just incase anyone wondered if T & I were the cutest things at the race... 

well, let me lay that to rest since here we are, looking like galactic HOTness,

 after running 22 and 26.2 miles respectively.  

Where to?

So I know I've been hanging this "mystery" over your head now for a few days...

I was invited by SBS & Dimity, authors of Run Like A Mother to be part of their Follow This Mother! series!

Hop on over & check it out!

Marathon Meanderings

Running a race distance for the second time is like having another child of the same gender a few years later.  You can't help but compare them to each other, and I don't know about you, but I could spend days admiring how both are amazing in their own unique way.  (talking about kids here, not races)

So here I am, a few days out from my race and I have taken a few minutes (try "20 hours/day" for 4 days) to reflect on it.  I worried that with a few days to decompress I might start questioning my race strategy.  I might wonder if I missed an opportunity.  I might regret not running harder at mile 17.  I might wish I had used different nutrition strategy...

Nope, still feeling pretty galactically bad a**.  So much so that the word has become conversational from the people in my life.  I'm waiting for my 4 year old to tell her teacher that her mother is a "galactic bad a(star)(star)".

Here's where I am at though.

I'm not sleeping.  At all.  Insomnia's not even a bother because frankly I'm not able to go to bed until after midnight, and 4 am is the latest I've managed to stay in bed for the last few days.  My husband loves it.  Yea ~ maybe love is a strong word.

I'm not eating.  Much.  I'd love to be all "oh I'm being healthy", but to be honest, I'm being nothing.  Today I ate 2 meals and some snacks at a RRRC event.  One of the meals was 1/2 an apple and some peanut butter.  Is this normal?  Does everyone else have a massive reaction of the sympathetic nervous system after a marathon PR?

I feel like... a teenage girl in love.

Do you remember that feeling?  The loss of appetite.  The restless nights.  The aimless wandering of your mind as EVERYTHING in the world reminds you of the object of your love?  That's what I feel like, only I am not obsessing about a person.  I'm replaying the details of my run.  I'm not hungry, because I wasn't hungry.  I'm not sleeping, because I'm "using" the adrenaline of the race to get me through the run.  I'm not able to focus because everything I see, hear, touch, do reminds me of what I saw, heard, touched or ran.

On top of it all, something HUGE has happened in my life, and I can't wait to share it all with you all, but keeping it bottled inside is not helping the situation!  ((Check back here on Friday!)) 

Downtime

The day you run a marathon, how do you relax afterwards?

So.  After I rocked out my 37:40 PR ( see how I just slipped that in?), I....

...threw a 4 year old birthday party.

Yea, well, I never said I was brilliant....

We had kids.  We had sugar.  We had kids who'd eaten sugar.  Add a bunch of tired adults, and you've got a recipe for disaster.  Somehow, it worked out great.

By the way...

It was a

WILD.

Party.

Happy Birthday B-NUT!

Do You Remember That Time?...

Richmond Marathon Recap - 11-13-2010

To start the day.  I got up after a really good night's sleep.  Dressed, got my pre-race pic by H (imma little bada**), and snagged a ride with Ocean, DeNiece & 3L.  I was calm.  I was focused.  I was Centered.  Spent my last last few minutes reviewing my plan, my strategy, and gathering what mental strength I could... and tried like heck to push that mental strength onto DeNiece as much as possible.  

Two things I remember saying to myself.  There is no such thing as the wall.  I will not call Parcheesi.

DeNiece and I split from Ocean & 3L (who kicked the Half Marathon’s butt to the tune of 1:53 and 1:47 respectively), and went to meet the Snot Team at the bank.  Q gave us some words of strength - but the most memorable for me were, “Try NOT TO SUCK.” and “YOU TRAINED FOR 24 WEEKS TO GET TO TODAY, DON’T. SCREW. IT. UP. NOW.”

Here’s the deal.  When you train with the Sports Backers MTT, the coaches all spread out along the course (getting rides from point to point) so that at every mile you will be spotted by a coach.  It won’t always be YOUR coach, but there will be a coach for you at almost every mile.  The deal is, if you look good and happy, they leave you alone.  If you don’t... they step out and run with you for a few minutes.  Good deal.  I’ll take it.

The MTT Snot coaches were split into groups to pace people out at the start, and Karasmatic was running between a 9:30 -9:45 pace.  So I told her I would like to go out with her... Q hears me say it and asks, “Did she ask you out?”  Um.  Actually YES she did!  Smartest thing I did between miles 1-5 was to go out with Karasmatic & DeNiece.  Wow that was SO FUN!  Love that girl.  Her energy and spunk were AWESOME.  We did... um, OK with the pacing.  

Q stopped in at mile almost 5 with us and reminded us to relax our shoulders.  So I decided that every time I saw a coach I would try to replay that advice.  Can you say, best thing I did early in the race?  DeNiece and I separated around 1 hour into the race, because I knew she wanted to run faster than I wanted to run.

... ok, so about 1 hour and 3 minutes into the race, I was having a little trouble finding my rhythm, so I sped up down the hill and reconnected with DeNiece.  I knew that I was better off with someone I knew.  I took at AccelGel at mile 6ish.  Saw my family at mile 7ish and threw H my sock sleeves!  Those things have been with me for more than a year now, I’m SO happy I didn’t have to throw them away.

Once we crossed the H bridge, DeNiece & I did separate.  I fell into a really comfortable pace and I looked at my watch and it said, Mile 8.  And then I heard my watch BEEP and I thought - oh no, my watch is freaking out... only, what it said was MILE 9 9:13.  AND then, like 3 seconds later, it BEEPd again... and it said the mile 10 9:15.  “LOOKING GOOD GREEN PLAID SKIRT!”  Smiled and waved like CRAZY at the person.  And mile 11 actually didn’t exist for me, because the next BEEP I saw was mile 12, so I took a GU.  Somewhere around mile 12 I saw the PINK NATION head coach Blair!  He’s great and gave me a HUGE shout out!

So, to recap - things were going great.  I was running along Forest Hill and Semmes, and saw coach after coach after coach from Sportsbackers MTT, and every one of them said, “HEY!  Way to go!  Looking Strong” or some other encouraging words.  I saw H at the Party Zone, and waived to the kids.

I crossed the HALF mat at... what?  2:04:27... OH MY WORD!  It’s a HALF MARATHON PR!?  Heckfireandshoot - I need to find a Half Marathon to run this winter.  Around here I heard a familiar voice yell - “HEY!  It’s the Green Plaid SOCK Girl!”  And I said, “HEY DON!” to the head coach of MTT.  It made me smile, and that was priceless.

The next miles melted away, I plowed through them all while shouting at spectators and pointing to cheer leaders and thanking cops left and right, and remember looking up and thinking, “but... that’s the turn for the Lee Bridge.  How did I get here?”  

So, I took the turn and my eyes got a little big.  With the bridge spanning out before me as a mile long expanse of beige concrete, I knew I had once again arrived at the dreaded Lee Bridge.  BUT, I was feeling GOOD.  Really GOOD.  And I thought, the bridge is so demoralizing, I’m just going to fall in behind any large man and run his pace.... no matter WHAT it is.  I believe my exact words were, “I don’t have time for this..  I’m going to make this bridge my b*tch.”

And while I was SHOPPING for a man to SHAMELESSLY USE on the Lee Bridge, I spied DEE & Marine Corp M!!!  YEAH!  I got some smiles, cheers and knuckle bumps and continued on my way.  It. Was. Awesome.  Frankly, looking back on it, I probably took the bridge too hard and would have been better off conserving a bit of energy for Main St, but...  WOW, It was actually FUN to scream across that bridge in the wake of a strong runner.

I grabbed 2 pretzels at the Junk Food Stop coming off the bridge and thanked the girls for volunteering.

So, remember my new bestie, Bart?  Well, as I came off the bridge and started making my way into the city, I saw him!  I pointed with both hands and yelled at the top of my lungs, “IT’S MY NEW BEST FRIEND, BART!!!”  

And he yelled, “LOOKING GOOD!  YEAH!  AND BY THE WAY, NICE SOCKS!  I’M GOING TO NEED TO GET ME A PAIR OF THOSE!”  If it wasn’t for MTT, I would have never become best friends with Bart Yasso at the Richmond Marathon.  I’m just sayin’.

More coaches, more words of encouragement, I was HIGH on my Lee Bridge Victory... and then... 

I turned the corner into no-mans land.  Um.  Hello, when did Main St suck so much at the Richmond Marathon?  Ok, I’m feeling tired.  I think I’ll slow down and give myself a little break... oh, that doesn’t feel so good.  I think I’ll pick it up for 30 seconds and THEN slow down and see what that feels like.  This trick worked GREAT for me.  I took some time to chill out, the UBER goal was still in play, the Back Up Goal was a near Lock.  The SUN was BEATING DOWN by now and in the back of my mind I knew had to keep on pace because I KNEW if I fell back, it was only going to get HOTTER.

So, then, because it was mile 18- I took another Gel.  

And my stomach ROLLED over.  And I thought, this could be bad.  

Around now I also noticed I felt really grainy... and took a salt pill.  Probably one of my smarter back half decisions.  BY the way, did you know that salt is a really good exfoliator?  Uh.  Yea.

I caught up to Coach Karen, and for the fist time in the race I was too unenthusiastic to be “passed” up by one of the coaches.  She hopped right out and joined me.  We only ran together for a minute, but she stressed the key point that I was SALTY.  VERY salty and needed some liquids.  So we discussed my strategy, I told her I was feeling a little sick, and then I got some surprising news...  DeNiece is right there.  WHAT???!!!  She pointed and just ahead I saw the fleur skirt.  I sent her off to run with someone else and sent myself off to catch DeNiece. 

At Mile 19 I saw H, Jen and the kids.  They were cheering, and had a HUGE sign up fo me-  it was great.  I was SO happy to see them.  H jumped in, offered me a banana.  I should have taken the banana, but I was feeling really bad and I didn’t.  Memo to me.  Next time eat the damn banana so you have something in your stomach to actually throw up and can just get on with feeling better already.

I found Coach El at the Diamond.  She was great.  She tried to convince me to stick my finger down my throat and throw up.  I declined.  She promised it would make me feel better.  I declined.  More on THAT topic later.  We ran past another MTT yellow shirt and  El slowed to his pace and I was off and running again to catch DeNiece, who, made it really easy by stopping to stretch.

DeNiece and I ran together for about a mile... and then, we picked up COACH KARASMATIC!  Now, mentally I was feeling great.  I knew I could do this.  I still had some sense of humor.  I wasn’t in nearly as much pain as I’d been in the year before.  But, my stomach was kind of pissing me off.  She made me drink a bunch of water and PowerAid, and really, that was a smart thing.  It did make my stomach roll a bit more, but frankly, at this point I was already pretty sick feeling, and it got me some sugar and water.  I can’t wait for the pictures though... ha ha... because I suspect I look as GREEN as Karasmatic’s HAIR!

We hung together, I was sucking, and then I looked down the street and saw... pink socks.  long sleeves.  and argyle.  OH.  YES.  And I said to Kara - It’s T!!!  It’s T!!!  

So.  skip this next paragraph if you’re sensitive to the bodily fluid talk.  OK?

After I picked up T, I did “pull over to the side” and stick my finger down my throat.  All it caused me to do was painfully dry heave.  All that pain and upset in my stomach was for naught.  There was NOTHING there.  But, I wasn’t aware of that enough in the moment to recognize it.  Now I’m a little pissed that I didn’t realize it and just suck it up a little more.

Suddenly, on Brook Road, I heard my name.  Ocean and 3L were on the course!  And they ran beside me for a mile?  I have no idea. I could feel them there, I could hear them there.  I just couldn’t acknowledge them in the moment.  I’m Sorry ladies that I was SO FAR GONE!  I am so blessed to have SUCH GREAT friends.

Around 23 we also saw Q.  He picked up the 3 runners ahead of us, and as he did, he looked back to scan the yellow shirts and we made eye contact.  He nodded to me.  And I smiled to myself as I thought of EXACTLY what I would say when he asked me how I was feeling.  I mean here I am.  I’m at frickin mile 23 1/2 of a marathon.  I’m crushing my PR.  I’m running with my POSSE.  I have stopped to (unsuccessfully) vomit on the side of the course.  Yup.  I knew what 2 words I would say.

At mile 24 Q dropped the other group, and I was rewarded for my patience.

“How you doing?”

“Galactically BadA**”.  

We all smiled (well, I think I smiled, honestly, my memory is a tad foggy).  I know HE smiled.  He says, “Is T pacing you in?”  “Yup”.

Yea, OK, maybe my memory of the moment is a little foggier than I’d LIKE to admit.  I know he spoke to me, I know he called me Doll, but if my life depended on telling you all what he said, well... ANYWAY, moving on to the BEST LINE OF THE DAY.

I was suffering.  Stopping to dry heave while protesting, “I’m not calling Parcheesi, I’m stopping to heave” and T says, “you can puke while you run”.  Um.  OK.

T was “pulling” me along by running 1 step ahead of me.  We’re on Grace, in the last mile + of the race and suddenly out of the blue T says, “Remember that time when you were about to crush your Marathon PR and all you had to do was climb up that little hill there and turn two corners to get to the down hill finish?”

It COMPLETELY made my day.  But I was still sucking... until she followed it with:

“You did not train for 24 weeks to NOT bring it for the last mile on Race Day.”  And so, I brought it.  I did, I just dug deep and sucked it up.  I was running hard, I turned the corner, and T says, "I have to leave you here..." but here’s the thing.  She didn’t leave me.  In my peripheral vision I could see T pacing me down the steep hill.  I was in the chute, she was outside the chute, but we were together.  It was such a great moment.  That pink blur was my strength and I focused everything I had on running through the finish.  I think *emphasis on think* that my arms were up in the air as I punched my way across the finish.  The CLOCK said 4:21:something.  

As I stepped over the second mat BART YASSO caught me in a hug, looked in my eyes with a HUGE smile on his face and said, “Thank you!”

Bart Yasso is such a stellar guy.  Why was he thanking me?  Oh right, probably because I’m his new best friend....

SO, here’s where things start to get a little fuzzy.  I got my picture.  Walked around for a minute with T.  Went to get food, walked from the sunshine into the shady tent, and then, T’s hands were on my arms and I realized, oh hey, I’m not actually fully conscious am I?

We “walked” to my car, I got to experience the dry heaving again - that was AWESOME.  And I came home to an icebath and cup of hot tea and oatmeal.

Today, I woke up sore, but not toast.  I’ve been more sore after a race.  Hell I’ve been more sore after a 5K.  I worry that the lack of soreness says that I ran a little conservatively (read that - mentally lazy from mile 17 - 20).  I know that the stopping to dry heave added 3 - 4 minutes to my time.  Not a big deal, it’s just something that happened.  I’ll fuel better next time.

I also hit the pool today for an easy recovery swim.  And... tomorrow, I’m hitting the pavement for an easy 3 miler.  Oh yeah.

Richmond Marathon 4:18:02, a 37:40 PR.  Galactically. BadA**.

Galactically Bad A**

Ok, so dictionary .com says that Galactically is not a word.  It IS now!  Because THAT is what I was today....

I would like to introduce you all to my new friend, 37 minute Marathon PR.

I had a great day, and will tell the whole story tomorrow or Monday I promise.

4:18:02 Richmond Marathon 2010 (PR)

Taper Finale - special Guest Appearance!

Oh. Kay.  Where to even START?

So you know how in January Bart Yasso walked past me & T at the Bermuda Half Marathon Start and said, "nice socks"?  And we both practically swooned?  Well, guess who I hung out with last night?  My new bestie...  Bart.  Yea, for real.  Want proof?

And then, after he signed my bib (can you say MOJO?) and paid me a very nice little compliment that he probably pays to 200 women a year but frankly I don't care because HE PAID IT TO ME, he got up and spoke.  And I'm sorry to be so vague and generalized, but this man is awesome.

I can't tell you everything he said, but I can tell you that what I took away from his talk is that for most of us, this isn't about winning the race... or even placing in an age group... for most of us, we're here for the LOVE OF THE RUN.  (that is not what he said, that is simply what I heard).  We are LUCKY.  The fights have been fought an won.  Anyone who wants to can just sign up for a race.  If they love it enough.

And I do love this thing, running.  I can't explain my love.  It just is.

SO.  On less sappy and more familiar territory...

I'm out of here.  Voting myself off Taper Island...  there's only a few of us left at this point and, yea, pretty much, we're all bailing.

Alex - you've been voted off Taper Island, have fun you crazy Triathlete!
SNOT MTTer's - this is IT!  We're OFF Taper Island!  WHOO HOO!  Let the SNOT jokes commence!
PINK NATION - COWBOY UP!
Well, except for SPEEDEE who likes it here so much that she's doing it all again for the JFK 50 miler.

Richmond Marathon is tomorrow.

I'm ready.

I'm healthy.

My bib # is 3503 if you want to stalk me, I don't know how easy that will be but here's a link.  If you're on the course I'll be wearing a SNOT Green Plaid Skirt with tall SNOT GREEN compression socks... and yellow shirt, but there will be 1000 people in yellow shirts.  I am notoriously focused when I race, and can run within feet of someone and not hear them shouting my name, so IF that happens... it's not personal, it's just business.

Runner First, Logical Thinker Second.
Oh, and ...
I have it good authority that on Saturday I am going to be...
"Galactically bad A**!" 

Marathon Dedication

A marathon is about dedication.  Dedication to the training, the schedule, the early mornings, the training... I said training twice.  BUT this post is not about that kind of dedication.

Every year I dedicate the miles of my big race to the people in my life.  So this post isn't about me.  It's about you.  I feel so grateful to have you all.  

I dedicate mile...

1- To my PARENTS & their respective spouses, thanks for being there for me, even when you're far away.

2- To my SIL, who has traveled from BOS to be here with me & my support crew.  It means a lot to me to have your respect.

3 - To Jill - because she's a closet runner who has a way with words, and I appreciate those words.

4 - To B-nut, who's 4th birthday is just days away, and though you clutter my life with busyness, you fill it with joy.

5 - To my BIOLABUDs!  Yea, I love you guys, and I will certainly be thinking of you all and our BIOethics ... and our book dropping habits as I schlep through the city.

6- To Amber, Joan and Lisa - for being part of the Posse.

7 - To V & Ann - who don't run, don't really get why I run, but are there for me anyway!  Thank you Zickie Zickie!

8- To G, my son, who is so cute when he's trying to compliment me, even though it never comes out quite the way he means it to - I also hope I "do good", though to be honest honey, it's a long shot that I'll win it.  a really really long shot, one that involves some kind of natural disaster, or plague...

9- To JEN, PAM, SHELLY, AMANDA, ANNE, RENE, ZOE, MCMMama, EMZ, MRS D, EARTH MAMA, MEREDITH ... you know, this could go on and on... you know who you are...  just know that I know who you are too.

10- To C, my eldest, who is trying to get a grip on this sport, I hope it grabs you one day the way it's grabbed me.

11- is dedicated to the makers of BODY GLIDE!
12 - To SDD:  There is no charge for awesomeness... or attractiveness!

13 - To H... the race is on the 13th of the month, and I've been married to you for 12+ years.  Here's hoping the number 13 is lucky, eh?

14- To Mel because something she said last year about Pies stuck with me all the way through THIS year...  and because I think... yea, I'm pretty sure that I need more COW BELL.

15- is dedicated TO NOT TACKLING THE RED SHIRTS!

16 - To SPEEDEE - last year you helped me through mile 16, and this year you've helped me through miles 1 - 1,234 (that's an actual number!).  You're awesome, and yea, I was lookin'.

17 - To Pants Guy - because you're hilarious, but in a laid back kind of way.  This Cheetah Skirt will be wa-ay behind you!

18 - To The Witch Dr - Without your thumb, I wouldn't be here today. 

19 - To 3L - Thanks for always being there for the run, no matter the hour or weather.  

20 - To DeNiece - even though she likes to sleep in on T/Th.  Congratulations!

21 - To Ocean - toe the line with confidence, you are the next level.  

22- To the Illusive Dave... just know that any tears I shed in the mile I dedicate to you are probably tears of mirth.  

23 - To Meade, my bro, nothing personal, but I hope this run doesn't suck as much as your Iraq 10K.  Stay safe.  I miss you.  It's only 42,195 meters!  

24- To COACH El - I almost didn't join MTT.  But then, I met you at an expo... and I did, and it was the Best. Decision. Ever.  I can't say that I loved every step of the running, but I sure did have a good time running with you & the Swampies.  In all this training one of my fondest memories is of you standing at the entrance to the stadium after a long (long) run saying "Way to go G!".  Thank you.  You deserve, and have, my trust and respect.

25-  To Q - You are an amazing coach.  Thanks to you I have changed the way I look at my sport.  Of course, thanks to you I have also changed the way I look at a lot of things, including half the music in my library, the Taper, and the Blvd/64 under pass.  Oh yea, and on race day, don’t forget to eat.  I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'.

26- To T, words can't express what you mean to me.  You're my best friend, and I appreciate you.  I love that with you, I can be a runner first, a logical thinker second, and not be judged for either my success or failure...  I love that we can laugh about it later even if its not funny.  Oh, and by the way, "Nice Socks."

26.2 - Belongs to me.  The end of '09 and early part of '10 I spent a few months rehabbing my torn hamstring, driving to and from the Dr, building my base back from scratch, running (effing) 1 minute of strides per (effing) 5 minutes of walking,“racing for fun, not for speed”.... and I learned a little about myself.

I would rather EPICALLY FAIL trying for Awesome, 

than fully accomplish Mediocrity.  

Runner First, Logical Thinker Second.