Never, NEVER taunt the running gods two days before your race

Yesterday I went for a run.

I went for a run after I wrote the words, "What else could happen?".


Just needed to clarify.

3 miles into my run I found myself laying on the side walk.  Knees, wrist and elbow bleeding.  I was thinking to myself, "Self.  What did we learn today?"

possible options included, "don't run alone."  "replace the battery in your headlamp." and "avoid uneven sidewalks."

But I think the lesson du jour was, "NEVER, NEVER taunt the running gods two days before your race."

I'm a bit sore today.  Mostly through the arm, shoulder and hip joints.  I'm fine, no permanent damage or anything.  I just feel a bit stupid.....

~savor the run~

Stand HERE

I hate not knowing where I stand.  It's so darned frustrating for me.  I'm a planner.  I have 3 kids...  I have to be a planner or things won't happen the way they're supposed to, you know?  I can't really get into this... the stalker that reads my blog... the one who takes everything personally will think this is about them.  The truth is, that person couldn't be further from the truth.  This is all about me me me.... I would say, I'll just stand here so I'm out of the way, but that's ridiculous.  I don't have time to just stand around.


This week is a really big week here at Chez Moi.

First off, It's March 28th and I am out.... of skirts.  Yup.  2 runs left for the month, and nothing to wear... guess I'll have to run nekkid tomorrow...

...or I could wear something twice in the same month, coz NO ONE wants to see this running nekkid.  *resist the urge to comment*

It's true though, I have almost enough skirts to get through a whole month without doubling up.  Some are pretty aged, but I'm hanging onto most of them.  There are TWO that have to go.  The one doesn't *cough cough* fit where it's supposed to anymore.  I think it strategically stretched.  RIP Black Cheetah Skirt.

...and RIP Pink Navy Skirt...  ~sniff~ ... ew... actually, sniff is right.  It's just punk, and I own enough skirts that I don't need a skirt that's scented with punk....

Secondly, I'm registering for classes in a few days, and my fall schedule is going to suck.  There are two possible options for me that will suck less though...  so I'm hopeful that I'm able to get into one of those two options.  The one schedule front loads my week.  I'm afraid I'm going to be a raving lunatic by Wednesday every week, but (BUT) it would give me a free-ish day late in the week for neato things like family time and homework and ~gasp~ personal time.  Hopefully when I log in to register I'm able to get the block I want...  Barring any computer hang ups....

Thirdly... I'm racing a 10K on Saturday.  It was supposed to be the race where I crushed my goal like my 8K last fall.  But instead it's been more social training/injury recovery/stress release than actual UBER TRAINING like I envisioned.  I'm likely going to be TWO MINUTES off my goal...  yeah, a LOT in a 10K.  BUT, I'm going to race it to the best of my abilities.  One day I'm going to look back and say, "That was one of the worst weeks of my life, and I still managed to run a XX:XX 10K...  I'm definitely galactically bada**."

Finally...  I think, really, there's some famous last words out there that apply to my life.  Probably going with, "...hey, what else could happen?"

~savor the run~

On a Personal Note

On a personal note, I'm having a privacy issue here on the blog.

I've seen it happen to other people, but I guess I naively believed it would never happen to me.  After all, I write the most self centered me focused blog in the world.  Who's going to be bothered to bother with that type of person?

I write this way, not because I'm self centered, arguably, that's arguable, but because I don't usually choose to blog about other things.  It's a safe topic.  I can poke fun at me and never hurt anyone's feelings.  I can mock myself, and do with frequency, because I know where my soft limits & hard limits are where that is concerned.  My kids are sometimes a source of comic relief, my interactions with H are generally not blog worthy but sometimes I print them, and when you combine those two factors with the fact that my hobby is very self focused, you get this.

This is a place to connect to my running.

In effect, you people come here to read because you want to read about how awesome I am, how the running is going, and how I dream about cake and icing... or frosting.  Sometimes you come here to read about Stupid Red Headed Girl Who Sits in The Back of The Room, or my infamous Anatomy & Physiology classmates Huh & Wha..?.  But 99% of the comments I receive on this blog are in response to my galactically badass running.

That said, I may have to privatize my blog for a short time.  If I'm going to do that, I'm probably just going to go on a publishing hiatus.  In the bloggesphere that is like the kiss of death...

In the mean time, if you miss me too much, I continue to write for the RRRC publication, miles & minutes, and you can catch up on back issues through the Newsletter Link on their web page.

oh ~freaking~ yeah

Yesterday I was at a Starbucks for Study Group.

This isn't an unusual event for me.  I spend a lot of time in Starbucks these days.... in all honesty, I've consumed more Starbucks in the last 4 weeks than I've consumed in the last 4 years.

I was sitting there after the books had been stowed and the laptops had been tucked away, and I had a moment where I felt ... playful.  Yes.  Playful is the only word I can use.  Just like the me I used to be....  I used to be playful all the time.  It's one of the FISH principals that I connected to and was unable to execute on a daily basis.  Playing helps me keep a grip on what's important, and what's not.

Enjoying life is important, even when life circumstances aren't always enjoyable.  Even if the moment of play is only a blink in time, at least it was there.  Yesterday evening as I was dicing onions to go into my dinner, a little smile tugged on my mouth.

I couldn't contain it.  The more I tried to fight it, the more I couldn't resist.  One word of play made me smile hours later.

I'm out the door now.  Headed to my clinical rotation.  It's a depressing unit I'm assigned to...  don't get me wrong, I like the patients, but it's not a place I would choose to work if I had a choice.  However, I think back to that ~play~ on words yesterday and smile...    I can choose to be depressed and angry by this environment, or I can choose my reactions.

I think I'll go play for a bit.

because sometimes...

"Did you have a good run today?"

"No, but that's Okay, because sometimes the run isn't really about the running."

Galactically Bada** Running

Are you Galactically BadA**?  

Want to show off your "team spirit" in a family friendly way?  

I have a limited number of these:

4X4 sticker's available for purchase.

Let me stress again, there is a limited number available.

$5 for Orange, $6 for Pink (because yes, the pink really were more expensive to make).  Any proceeds (not a WHOLE lot of over head) go to Colleen's Autism 5K fund raising efforts.

A letter the Meredith

Dear Meredith,

Be brave.  Take risks.  Nothing can substitute experience. ~ Paulo Coelho ~.

Paulo's sweet, true?  Love him.  He always knows just the right thing to say to a marathoner before a big race.

You are one of the great inspirations in my life.  I think of you often, and always in a positive light.  I'm so fond of you that I ~gasp~ might actually hug you the next time we see each other.
It could happen.
I'm learning to hug.

I sometimes wonder if you know how you impact the world around you.  I never get the impression that you have an idea.  For certain, you've changed my life.

You motivate with your sweet words of strength.

You inspire with your gentle confidence.

You amaze with your mad skillz.

You weep when weeping is called for and you SMILE freely.

These are all traits that should be celebrated.  Admittedly, some with Kleenex and some not...

So next time you’re running a marathon...in L.A....

Remember the whole bit about cow bells and red shirts.  If you think you’ve found the wall, remind the wall that THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS THE WALL.

Try not to suck, respect the distance, and just be in the moment…  but more than that…

Smile freely, dear friend, and remember that the fog seems thickest right before it lifts.

Savor the run,

Gba gf.

Like Soup for Breakfast

Lately it seems that all signs point to soup. 

Soup.  Yes, that’s what I said.

The thing is that the soup conversation started out as an analogy for… well… nothing.  It was actually a conversation about soup, and how it’s good for you in the week before a race because it’s high in liquid and high in sodium, both of which are things that runners need in quantity.  I suggested it as a good source of the needed ‘lacking’ minerals.

But, as sometimes happens, the soup conversation started to evolve, until the next thing we knew, soup was synonymous with politics, running, sex, and life in general.

What do I want out of my soup?  It’s something I’ve been asking for a while now.  

Patience.  I like soup that’s had a while to simmer.  It makes me appreciate it more.  While soup that comes out of a can, goes into the microwave and is ready to eat in 90 seconds is fine from a nutritional standpoint, it doesn’t do much for my soul.

Consistency.  By this age in my life, I know what soup I like best.  I’m not going to change from my basic soup habits and expect to be fully satisfied with a completely new soup.  That’s not to say I won’t try new recipes, but in general, I know how much running I can do before I get hurt, how to balance my school work and fun time, what makes me cranky, and that I like a lot of variety in my favorite kind of soup.

Variety.  I never make the same soup exactly the same way twice.  Repeating the same soup and expecting to like it as much as last time seems ridiculous.  Where is the room for improvement?  So when I’m constructing a training plan, or even ~gasp~ making soup, I like to play around with the ingredients.  If 2 twenty milers was good, is three better?  If I peaked after the 3^rd, would 6X 16 miles work just as well?  If I like ½ cup butter beans in my Brunswick stew, would I like ½ cup baby limas better?  The other day I was scrambling to find something quick and healthy to eat, and nothing appealed, so I ate cold soup for breakfast.  And you know what?  It was delicious.  

Sensuality.  My favorite kind of soup is best served hot after a long simmer, with a side of warm respect, and enough spices available that can be used to adjust the flavor as the moment demands...  but the thing about soup is that everyone has their own preference.  There are probably 10,000 flavors.  So in all seriousness, if you prefer your soup cold, or in a mug, or completely different from mine, then go you.  It's not my place to tell anyone how to best enjoy their soup.

Motive and Intent

There’s a reason I do everything.

“What is your motivation?”

I remember my high school drama teacher asking it all the time.  I learned through drama that when your character crosses stage left, it’s not because the blocking said to do it, it’s because your character was internally motivated to move away from/toward another character.

It’s true in life. 

Most of the time we don’t just ‘do’ things.  There are motivations.  I run because I love it.  I’m in nursing school because I want to work at a productive job that makes sense to me.  

I’m ‘me’ centric.  My motivations are generally driven by self satisfaction.  Exceptions are made when you factor in my Klingons.  I’ll do a lot of things to win a smile or ensure the success of a teachable moment.

I blog, in part, because I want some kind of record of ‘me’.  If something bad ever happened to me, my kids would be able to scroll back through the blog and see a glimpse of the woman I am.   Not the mom they know, but the woman inside.

The woman who isn’t afraid of pain or taking risks.  The one who recognizes that it’s OK to fully support your friends, even if it means you make a temporary fool of yourself.  A woman who believes that life is not always fun; disappointment happens, but how you handle it is far more important than an actual event.   Life is a series of choices, I try like hell to choose to be happy.

I guess this means that my blogging motivations are selfish.  Or child centered.  Regardless, I am going to continue to make choices that lend to my happiness.  Because one of the greatest lessons I can teach my children, is that you can’t be responsible for other people’s happiness. 

And you can’t rely on someone else to make you happy.   You have to do it all by yourself.  

In a lot of ways, just writing the blog has helped me to know me a little better.  I have aired grievances, cried tears, celebrated victories, and embraced my failures, all right here with my followers, and ‘you people’ who stalk, in this writing forum.  While this is a running blog, it's really so much more.  It's a potential teachable moment.  It just happens that the other lesson I teach my kids is that if you love something, you'll be good at it

I guess it might even be fair to say that I’m not blogging for “me” so much as I’m blogging for the woman inside me.

Random Respect

I’m in Nursing School, and I am a runner.  These things have an inverse correlation.  The more time I spend in school, the less I am running.  Of course, the more I’m in school, the more desperate I am for some time on the roads.

Nursing school has forced a change of pace.

When people ask me what kind of runner I am, my response is that I’m a marathoner.  I enjoy the distance.  It’s long, it’s brutal, and apparently I like being miserable for hours on end.

But hours of running at a time do not fit that well with my school schedule.  Toss in some work, a few klingons, and the volunteer hours I put in for my Running Club, and there’s not a whole lot of excess time floating around this semester.

I keep eeking out “30 minutes” here, or “30 minutes” there to run.

So, recently, I was talking to a newbie runner who asked what I training "for".  I explained that I have my sights set on a 10K PR.

In response to that, she said, “Well, it’s only 6.2 miles.  I guess you don’t find that challenging,” with an apologetic shrug and nod toward her shining white Asics.  I cringed. 

And then I threw back, "hey, respect the distance.  Any distance."

I firmly believe that.

Respect the distance... because it never fails...  I get spanked whenever I don't.

And here's the thing that I really wanted to tell that newbie runner but didn't.  Lately I’ve been struggling to finish my 10K training runs in a way that feels solid.  I dragged myself through an 8K with breath wheezing.

So suddenly, I’m this woman who ran 2 marathons in 28 days last year, who can’t even manage to get a solid 6.2 miles laid down on the streets of RVA?  I can’t even do 6+ miles with hills at a solid pace?  How is that even possible?  6 miles?  I used to run that every Tuesday and Thursday….

And then I remember… hey, respect the distance.

Skirting the Line

This skirt is special because I wore it at my first marathon...  that means I've owned it since 2009.  It has raced a lot, and it was the start of my obsession of ALL THINGS ORANGE.  The thing is, it's worn out, and I hardly wear it anymore.  It sits at the bottom of my drawer.  Also, those are my new shoes glowing at the bottom of the photo.  I'm kind of in love with them.