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.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Wordless Wednesday 26.2

Taper Island: Art Therapy

it's a paper bag... to breathe into... incase of Taper Island Pre-Marathon Panic.

By the way - I'm thinking of changing the name of my blog to Neurosis of the Stay at Home Marathoner of 3 (Kids)... any thoughts on that?

To THE DOUBTERS

Dear Doubters of the Sports Backers MTT program...  Dude, you people don't even KNOW what you're missing...


This morning we met for a costumed 8 mile fun training run.  

 DeNiece, 3L, T, & g.

we were "road kill runners" and "super safety reflective runners" 

you can't see my blinky lights or my glow sticks, but they're all over me.

The directions included things like, Turn At: n. A small shrub bearing smooth skinned, fleshy edible fruit with a single hard shelled seed. Genus Prunus

As if that wasn’t fun enough, Q stood on the corners telling everyone which way to go... only, of course, he wasn’t exactly telling us accurate directions dressed all black and his very nicest JASON mask looking like a serial killer in running tights.

The directions sent us into and then out of the Hollywood Cemetery ... only, it was sort of up to us which way we used in and out again... we, stupidly, took the hilly route... or wait, are all the routes hilly?

But we were rewarded with this view once we reached the summit.

And then, we trekked back through the city... discussing the rules of running.  Don't break Rule #2, which is, "Don't get run over by a car."  Rule #1 has been previously discussed on this BLOG, and that is "Don't run in just a sports bra & no top unless you are 100% sure you can pull it off".  For the record, Q's pretty sure he can pull it off, but... 

Then Left at the “Spiciest Corner in Richmond” (despite Q’s insistence that we continue straight) and back to the stadium... where we had to chick about 4 guys with only a few feet left, and yea, they TOTALLY could have beat us, but it was still fun to chick them anyway!  


We arrived back at the stadium laughing and breathless... and I don't know if we were breathless because of the awesome pace, or if we were breathless from the laughter and fun.  

Seriously, I don’t know that I have ever laughed so hard on a run in my life!

CONGRATULATIONS RENE!  You've been voted OFF TAPER ISLAND!!!  HAVE A STELLAR RACE!

I need your HELP

First off, before we get into what I need your help with, I would like to say a very sincere Thank You to all those who commented on the Nursing School News.  I am SO super stoked.  I can't even begin to tell you what it feels like to have all my night school, time away from home and kids, messy house & stressed out frizzy hair suddenly VALIDATED.  ~sigh~

HELP!!!  

Here is the outfit I am planning on wearing for the Marathon.  

The thing is, I can't decide which socks to wear... 

and frankly, without the socks, the outfit is just not sexy, true?

So I took a photo of the sock choices so you can view them...  Please leave a Comment and VOTE A (yellow/green), B (Tube Socks w/ stripes), C (Polka Dots), or D - none of these so I can have a true excuse to go shopping at my favorite Sporting Goods store or Chez Target.

And Taper Island is about to lose Rene, and all the NY Marathon Runners.  

Anyone else out there racing this weekend?

For informational purposes, here are the Yellow/Green Stripes in action, you see how from a distance they turn a single color?  

Can't figure out if this is a good thing, or not.  Ironically here I happen to even be wearing a yellow top that's almost the right shade.

JUST A QUICK LITTLE UPDATE ON MY DAY...

Pop the cork people, I got a letter confirming the news-  I GOT IN TO NURSING SCHOOL!!!!

Taper Island: Art Therapy

In class we were assigned a project that sounds so weird.  You take an everyday object, either with meaning or without, and you wrap it in cloth, or string, or, in my case, black duct tape.  I always have black duct tape in my car.  Incase of blister.

yea, I said it.

I chose an old shoe.

It's tied in duct tape, you can't see it's potential or even where it's been, but it's there none the less.  All the goodness and speed of that shoe are simply wrapped under a shell, waiting to be discovered.

Taper Madness claims another soul.  Or, sole.

Are we, or aren't we?

Does anyone here remember when you were dating a man seriously and he gazed deeply into your eyes on a moonlit beach and said something like, "You're just the kind of girl I always imagined I'd marry..."?

And then you wandered around in a dazed and confused state of mind wondering, "Are we getting engaged?  Should I reserve THE Chrysler Museum of Art, because I always wanted to get married there on a June Morning, but it books up 20 months in advance and there are only 4 Saturday's in June and is THIS IT?  Can I plan?  OH, right, I almost forgot!  The beach towel I was about to order that I was going to have monogramed...  Do I get my old initials?  GAS?  or VAS?  Or, do I get my new initials will be VAE... as in, Oy Vey!  Or,  GAE and in, 'I feel pretty and witty and GAE!'

And of course, in some cases, some of you might have ended up married to THAT GUY.  And, some of you, like me, were apparently the just the KIND of girl he wanted to marry, but not the ACTUAL girl.

Well this week I got a phone call that made me wonder, Am I, or Am I Not? accepted into Nursing School of my choice.  The financial Aid department called and asked me to come in for a thirty minute meeting in anticipation of the acceptance of pending application into BSMCON.

That's quite a mouthful there:  Anticipation ... Acceptance... Pending.  All in one sentence.

So.  I feel like I can't even celebrate properly, because I don't have an engagement ring (i.e. acceptance letter).  But I feel like I want to celebrate because frankly, this seems like it.  What do you think?  Are you the kind of person who pops a bottle of cider (marathon training, not drinking much these days) at the drop of a hint?  Or, are you the kind of person who waits until the question is popped?

The Best OF:

I was inspired recently to collect some of my "BEST OF NofSAHMof3" posts in one place, but that seems a little narcissistic, don't you think?

Well, probably, but here they are, none the less.

Running
The Richmond Marathon 2009 edition - pour yourself a cup of coffee before reading this one, it's long.
ShamROCKED 2009 edition - my best race ever, where the planets aligned, the weather was perfect, and my father almost made it to see me finish.
Man Repellent - the most viewed/commented post of NofSahm ever...  and, as a follow up, it turns out we become friends.

School
An Open Letter to SRG - you know, she was a PITA, but dang, I do miss SRG for the entertainment factor alone.
The Trouble with Tuesdays - brought to you by the same girl who admitted to being under the influence while giving her presentation.

Lithium Vans - and why people over the age of 29 should think again before going back to college.

Other ramblings of ME ME ME and MOMMYHOOD!
Holiday History - probably the funniest true story in my life, though, it wasn't funny in the moment.
Red Ink and mad skills - An excerpt from an unpublished book.
The Name Game - B makes a new friend at Ballet.
100 mostly true things

Halloween Hugs & Handholding

Yesterday I got hugged at least... 20 times.  Not kidding.  AND I did well.  I'm nearly a hugger now.  So much so that I sent a virtual hug through a text message.  I know.  weird.


As "lack of a hugger" as I am, my kid is the exact opposite.  B & Doodle were attached at the hip.  They held hands the entire night... when B's shoe fell off, they BOTH sat down to fix it!  Too cute, but you know, words just don't do it justice, so, here they are on film.  

Hope your Halloween was as fun as ours!

Congratulations again to those of you who completed your marathons this weekend!  For the rest of us, the fun on Taper Island continues...