Neurosis of the Stay at Home Marathoner of 3 (Kids)

cough cough

2012-01-31T15:24:00.000-05:00

You know that opening scene of The Princess Bride where it's Fred Savage coughing over the sound of a video game...... what do you mean you haven't completely memorized every second of that movie?

Will Feral also answers to O'malley Cat.

Anyway, that is what sleeping in my house is like.

We all go to bed, snuggled under our covers, and we all get about 2 hours of sleep. Then the coughing starts. It's enough that it wakes me up. I then sleep/listen/wonder and worry for most of the night while my son gasps and struggles for air.

The bad news is we're on week 8 of the cough.

The worse news is, my Pediatrician says she thinks the culprit is a furry orange beast named Will Feral. All signs point to a cat allergy.

Does anyone want my delicious orange kitty named Will Feral? He'll kill any kind of rodent you need killed... he's got mad skillz like that. This whole situation makes me sad.

Mostly, I'm sad about this because my kids are going to hate me for getting rid of the cat.

DeadLines

2012-01-26T21:56:00.003-05:00

I have a deadline looming.

I've written NOTHING.

I can write about anything running and I can't think of anything to write about.

ARG!

What do you like reading about?

An Open Letter to Depression

2012-01-25T07:15:00.000-05:00

Dear Depression,

I'm running again, so get lost already.

Oh don't think I didn't recognize you. I have seen you before. I felt you before I could see you. I felt you before you even got out of bed this morning.

I don't care that you think sleeping is optional during the night time hours. That's when runners sleep. I don't desire to examine any aspect of my life between 1am - 4am. You are a sick b*tch if you're into that.

When my alarm goes off at 4:30, don't even consider hitting the snooze button. I'm a runner, and a student, and a mom. This is my one shot to get my sweat on and I am getting up to run or swim, even if you tell me not to.

Napping isn't congruent with my lifestyle either, so the inescapable weariness you're ladling onto me midday is not going to cut it. I will keep shaking it off, I will refuse to crawl into my toasty warm bed until a respectably late hour after the sun has set.

The aching lump that chokes me, the one that can't be washed down by water, tea, or hot coffee is just going to be ignored. So is the unquenchable thirst, the sour taste, and the tightness in the back of my jaw.

Fighting you is making me tired, but I will win. You've celebrated your little "victory" too soon. Sorry but your a** is going down.

Go suck it. I don't have time for you.

I'm a runner.

regards,
GBA_gf

ath backwards

2012-01-24T08:45:00.000-05:00

Today I ran into a friend of mine as I finished my run. We chatted for a second, and he asked what I had done this morning.

"I did a little over a mile swim and a 4 mile run. Feels great to be running again." I was ~high~.

"OH!" His face blossomed into a huge smile. "Hey, today is my first day of Iron Man training and we're doing a 2000m swim and 4 miles! You're right on track!"

"Oh no, that's my thing, I'm no Triathlete. Actually", I mused, "I don't even know that there's much -lete after my Ath these days..."

He disagreed.

But I can't really get into that....

Smokin'

2012-01-23T14:56:00.004-05:00

I volunteered at the FROSTBITE 15K this weekend.

You know those, "You Know You're A Runner When..." challenges/thoughts Red puts up sometimes? Well, this weekend was a YKYRinRVAW just waiting to happen.

The Frostbite 15K is traditionally freezing cold, well organized, and fairly competitive. Not a lot of "noob's" out there running a 9.something mile race in January. Well, this year was no exception. It was cold, well organized and fairly competitive.

I knew, given that I've run 2 times in the last 5 weeks, that while I could probably finish the 15K, I would not be competitive (with myself or my A.G.) and would probably injure something. I must like being cold because... no, no I hate being cold, but I went out in support of my peeps anyway. About 4 minutes before the start buzzer, the Head course marshal wrangler & the race director came up to me and pulled me off the finish-line and sent me to mile 4.

Mile 4 is a point where you have runners going both ways and 3 streets converge at a busy intersection.

It was my job, with my "co-marshal" to try to keep the runners on course, keep the cars from running over the runners, and to wrangle the intersection.

I was flipped off by one car traveling about 35mph. Yes I know it's your God Given Right to kill a runner today, consider this my random act of kindness as I attempt to prevent you from ruining your life.

And another car, I managed to slow with some frantic hand waving. As she pulled past me I got a blast of cigarette smoke in my face... Thank you, that was ~awesome~, as a runner I rarely get to experience that toxic air.... only in Richmond....

These were not the only stupid cars. Yesterday the folks traveling this area of Richmond were insane.

Or, maybe they're always insane and i just never notice.

That said, my "co marshal" and I had a good time, and just when I thought there wasn't going to be another YKYRinRVAW moment he explained to me why he was volunteering. I laughed, as he explained he's trying to accrew points in the Grand Prix event. I explained, "I don't usually run enough races to qualify. Last year I probably could've won my A.G. I write for Miles & Minutes, I get a lot of points that way..."

YKYRinRVAW the guy who stands at the intersection with you says ~ "Oh, you're GBA_gf! You write some good stuff."

Yes, Richmond VA, the smallest city in the universe, where everyone knows your name...

~savor the run~

(and stay safe)

Big Boy Shoes

2012-01-19T11:56:00.001-05:00

I ran.

2 miles.

in these, size 6 boys shoes.

No pace goals, just on feel. And it felt GOOD.

Double bonus, "on feel" turned out to be respectable.

Now... I just have to resist the crack a little longer so I don't end up back in rehab. Babysteps.

A Fifth

2012-01-17T08:29:00.002-05:00

Today marks the beginning of my 5th week without running.

That's a long time for me.

Without running and training, I have a hard time blogging. It's a schedule like everything else in my life, so I have that going against me. My schedule is off. Additionally, when I'm warming up or cooling down is often when I come up with my best ideas. My insights are driven by the things I see, hear, taste or feel... while running.

My writing outlet is, well, my other outlet. So I am not producing any visceral writing. Nor am I running. This is a toxic combination.

As the weeks have gone by, I've become overly sensitive, obsessive, and anxious.

And cranky.

I know this for a fact because my H was kind enough to gently point it out to me. ~um~

Might have to rename the blog the Neurosis of the Slogging And Half-Crazy Marathoner of 3....

Tomorrow I slog

2012-01-15T21:23:00.001-05:00

I have days where I "rally!" and can embrace the pool with sadistic GLEE.

It's just that today isn't that day. Today I hate the pool. And yet, tomorrow I slog. I will get up before the sun, eat something light, and go to the pool for more torture. I will beat myself until I can barely stand.

My heart craves a run. My head tells my heart to get over it. My run tells me it's not speaking to me until next Saturday, so don't bother calling or 'just showing up'.

I just want to run.

But I cannot.

So.

Tomorrow I slog. Because I must. I have to. It's what Those People tell me I should do to stay strong. The Q agrees it will keep me fit so I can step back into my run. Even Harry Potter says he's done it, and he's pretty much ~ epic. But don't tell him I said that, or that I named him Harry Potter, but if this isn't Hogwarts, I don't know what is.....

And so what now?

Well.

Tomorrow I slog. Because, I must.

DRESS CODE VIOLATION

2012-01-13T06:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was called to the school to deliver an "appropriate outfit" for my 12 year old. She would not be able to return to class until I delivered the clothing. Outraged, I half expected to arrive at school to discover she had changed her clothes after leaving the house (something I did regularly in middle school), however, I arrived to discover she was in fact dressed as she departed.

Tell me, what is so offensive about this outfit? I know "technically" why it's in violation, but I just don't "get it". To me it looks age appropriate and WAY superior to some of the other nonsense I see running around on middle schoolers these days.

IF you're wondering, the answer is: The dress is too short. "not to her fingertips"

Challenge - REAL WOMEN

2012-01-10T06:30:00.000-05:00

Ok real women.

A few people who've come by NofSahm in the last few days don't "know" what I look like.

Well.
Not to "toot my own horn", but I'm not a completely unfortunate looking woman. On film. Don't ask me to talk about the woman who lives in my mirror. We have a tumultuous relationship. But on film, I don't entirely suck.

So, in honor of the fact that I suspect you ALL DON'T SUCK EITHER ~

Post a photo of yourself on your blog that makes you feel beautiful, or epic, or Galactically Bada**.
Or all of the above is OK too.

It doesn't have to be a beautiful photo of you, if you prefer to keep your looks on the down low, have privacy issues, etc. But post something that makes you reflect on how not only are you "good enough", to quote a friend, but how you are ACTUALLY SO MUCH BETTER THAN GOOD ENOUGH.

I'll start. This is the photo of me on New Years Eve. This is what I looked like when the clock struck midnight and 2012 began.

I hated this dress.
I felt fat that night.
I had mentally punched myself in the face about 200 times in the 48 hours before this photo was taken...

And it's also the photo that reminded me that women, for the most part, are blind.
Including me.

leave a comment and let us know where to find your beautiful photo.

the torture below

2012-01-05T21:49:00.000-05:00

I have this theory.

We talk big. “Myworth is MORE than my appearance”. Butsociety tells us that IS NOT TRUE. Appearance and worth are sadly tied, and until society changes the rulesand the collective media comes to its senses, we have to live with it.

My Identity is tied so firmly to My Run, that when I'm run-less, I start to question everything.
Even things that are unquestionable.

I think that many manywomen are blind and only see what they think they see. And they’re deaf, and can only hear what theythink they know. And sometimes they’resurrounded by thick dark impenetrable evil that cloaks the world. The view from behind the darkness isdistorted and false.

For example, one of my friends is particularlystunning. She has a laugh that’s like champagne and a smile that’s lovely. But the reason that men stop what they’redoing to stare “inconspicuously” as she walks through a room is probably notchampagne and smile related. She seems to have no idea that her legs arethe kind of legs people dream about, and yeah, I mean that how it sounded.

Another friend is so pretty that the first time Isaw her photo I had to draw her. Her beauty is classic. Fresh, blond, fair, and tall, it's no wonder my son has a crush on her. She’s athletic and strong. Sometimes I hear doubt from her. DOUBT? WTF? Why does someone who looks like you doubt her beauty?

Come to think of it, mostof my friends seem to have no idea what they look like. One or two realize they’re beautiful andeither don’t seem to care (“I’m worth more than my looks”) or justroll with it (“I consider it a public service”).

The rest see the worst, the flaws, the imaginary fat, thethick thighs, and the childhood scars. Theysee what I never even notice, or what doesn’t exist. They have no clue what they really looklike.

I wonder: Do I have any idea what I look like?

Probably. Not.

I caught myself in the mirror the other day and thought,“I’m ugly.” It was a passing thought, but I didn’t botherto banish it. For some reason, it rangof truth.

I pulled a fleece over my head, put my hood up and went tothe gym where I destroyed myself in the pool.

Ragged breathing was all I could hear as I churned in thedark water. Then when I could scarcely breathe,I ripped the gay purple visor off my head, abruptly breaking the bubble gumBritney and Fergalious feed, I snapped apair of black goggles into place. Iraked my body down the pool and back again for a few hundred meters, punishingmyself with brutal speed. My arms ached,crying for mercy, but I had none.

I kept thinking about how ugly I am. That I am unwanted. I am impossible.

I don’t know; it was just a thought that wouldn’t goaway. Nothing could break through theshadows. The lifeguard sat witness,blessedly unaware of the torture below the surface.

I soaked in the pain, ignoring the fire in my lungs andswallowed back the iron I tasted as I sucked in the chlorine laced air. Recover, breathe, catch, kick, pull. The rhythm served as punctuation.

I might be ugly, but at least I. can. f*cking. swim.

An hour later I could barely pull my weary body over the side onto the cold floor. Clutching my towel to my chest, I stumbledtoward the locker room. Pink hands thatwere too tired to adjust the nozzle of the shower turned a knob, and my skin waspricked by water that quickly grew too hot.

Ah, the torture continued.

It was when I went to dry myself that I realized I must bepossessed. The still trembling leg I wasdrying was not fat. It was muscular and curvy. A quick inspection of myself revealed what Iwas beginning to suspect.

I am not a Victoria’s Secret model. Thank f*ck. Imagine the stress that goes with that gig.

I am real. I will never get fired for aging. And notone part of me should be berated or punished the way I punished myself becauseI am real.

I have seen photos. Iknow on film that I am not completely unfortunate looking. WHY did I suddenly look in the mirror and NOTBELIEVE?

The answer is simple.

I am blind. I onlysee what I EXPECT to see.

I AM DEAF, and only hear what I thinkI already know.

And when I say women are surrounded in evil, tell me friends,what would make my beautiful friendsthink they are anything less than exquisite?

The darkness needs to go.

Next time that your friend tells you “you are the hottestmom ever”, see the honesty in the message and believe that you are THE HOTTESTMOM EVER. When your husband , wife, brother, sister, guy or girlfriendsays, “You are stunning”, I hope you will listen with your mind open to hearthe truth of the message.

And I hope you will pay it forward. Share the message with the beautiful people inyour life.

You never know if the message you send, or comment you make,will be the light that breaks through and illuminates a path for someone who’sdrowning in the darkness.

Gear CHECK - Slogging

2012-01-05T13:05:00.002-05:00

When you leave home to go for arun, you probably really only NEED a few things. A good bra if you need one, a light if it's dark out, tall socks… hell it seems likeshoes are even optional these days. Oh,maybe a watch.

Slogging requires a bit more ~~crap~~gear.

Slogging = Sucktastic Pool Jogging.

It might suck, but it is HARD ifyou do it right, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I did this allthe time (which would be expensive as it would require a lobotomy and or atherapist and quite possibly daily medication) I would be SUPER fit.

1 shuffle iPod + plastic wrap + a little packing tape =
water resistant iPod shuffle. I don't recommend using
your son's, like I did, because his taste in music is ... not
the same as my taste in music.

Anyway, after 1 week of sloggingI’ve learned a few things. When packing your gym bag, be sure to bring the following with you:

1) A visor with an up grade – one of Those People took mercy on me the other day and gave me a hint on how to get my iTunes Rolling in the Deep end of the pool.

“Myloneliness is killing me… I must confess I still believe….”

Yeah, trust me, when you’re slogging,these lyrics start to look down right Genius. Of course, Interpol’s No I in Threesome is pretty genius too… for otherreasons though.

2) Belt it Out – I tried“pool running” without floatation this summer. Um. You know what? You need the floaty belty thingy so you can concentrate onform and counting. Yes, counting. I track my cadence in the pool, just as I doon land. Ok, thats not true. On land I don’t have tothink about it. But in the pool, Isometimes count to check it. Andfrequent heart rate checks are another way counting AND the belt come in handy.

3) Intervals - DON’T LEAVE HOMEWITHOUT THEM. They will SAVE YOUR LIFE. I'm serious. They serve as a way to break up the timeblocks into bite sized pieces so you don’t choke to death. Additionally, watching the clock gives you something to look at… other than the lifeguard who is pretending notto be looking at you like you’re insane. Accidentally making eye contact with the lifeguard is to be avoided at all costs.

Now, true, at some pools staring at the lifeguard could constitute afull body contact sport. In my case,however, that’s not a plan. At all. I’m way better to stare at the clock and seethat I have 1:30 left in my interval. The other day I did 3X 5 min at Tempo. Butequally good is 1min Tempo/1 min recovery jog for 10 – 15 minutes. Or today I did 1:30 Tempo with a 30 secondrecovery for 10 minutes and seriously, the 10 minutes vanished. Speaking of eyes…

I googled "image sweat"
and got this, and...
you're welcome.

4) Gonna Make You Sweat – I have it on good authority that if you have sweat drippinginto your eyes, you’re doing it right. So make sure you bring it to the pool. And you might want to bring your water bottle too.

5) BRICK HOUSE – I found this UBER intense brick workout online. It would be too much for the (novice) pool runner slogger like me, but it did give me some ideas. I do some slogging broken up by swim sprints. Or, some swimming broken up by Tempo slogging. It's been a great way to make the slogging more appealing to me, a fairly strong swimmer.

…. I guess maybe "Properly Fitting Swim Suit" should be on this Gear List somewhere, huh? I’m sure that as the weeks go on I will be able to add tothis list. Who knows what mental state I’llbe in by next Thursday. Xanax could make the list...

Ok I'm kidding. I find slogging weirdly satisfying.

As long as I am sweating and in a littlediscomfort I’m OK in the pool. Okay, in a “If I can’t be outside doing what Ireally love to do” kind of way. But thenagain, I’m the kind of stupid who thinks running 26.2 miles is fun… so I mustreally like being miserable.

One Mile

2012-01-04T06:43:00.000-05:00

I am sorry, I hate this time of year. I hate that we all spend all this time writing down our "goals"... it's insanity. I decided on 12/28/11 that I would just start my 2012 "goals" right then.

Why wait?

I have some goals. They're SMART. Specific, measurable, a...something that starts with a, r... something that starts with r, and time specific. OK, clearly they're not that smart.

They're not that interesting though. And they're not that relevant to everyone else in the world today. However, on my 2012 list is my new mantra.

I love having a mantra.

I love Respect The Distance so much that I'm considering getting it tattoo'd on my body. Because it really doesn't matter how far you're running, or if you're running at all. Are you in school? Motherhood? A sucktastic beige minivan? Are you racing a marathon? Are you racing a 4m run in 100 degree heat and 80% humidity ~ damn straight you better respect that distance. 13.1? 50K? 5K? Every distance deserves respect, no matter how short or long, real or imagined. The day you don't respect the distance is the day you will fall on your face. I could share a story here, but I'm not going to....(shudder).

Galactically Bada** became my mantra at mile 23.5 of a marathon. I said it once, and it instantly became my mantra for the rest of the year, and the rest of the year after that one. Some things just stick.

Don't tackle the red shirts is one of those things that wasn't funny at all, until one day it was hilarious.

So while the rest of the world is worrying about what goals they will lay down for 2012, how they'll achieve them, what they'll do to make the year's worth of goals attainable, etc. I've decided to just try a new mantra.

Take it one mile at a time.

Whether it's nursing school, foot pain, training plans, core workouts, drills, cleaning my house, choosing healthy foods, or actually running a mile, my goal is to try not to get caught up too much in what lies before me, or what's left behind me, and instead to just worry about the moment I'm in.

~savor the run~

Personal Ad VS The Resume

2012-01-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

I am in the process of ~~beating my head against a solid wall~~ writing my resume.

Blah.

Misery.

If this was a creative writing exercise I would be in heaven. But it's not, it’s a …

Wait just a darned minute.

Yeah, it totally SHOULD be a creative writing exercise.

I have a friend who’s really far more clever than I am who believes, “there really should be more space on a resume spent onlife skills and personality traits than what nonsense you did in a differentjob...”

And you know what, she's right.

Now. The only thing is... as I'm hashing through this creative ~~writing exercise~~ resume I realize that it reads... well, it kind of resembles a personal ad.

You know? The gist of it goes something along the lines of:

"Galactically badass marathon running blogger enjoys trying new things. Works best in fast paced dynamic environment. Able to multitask. Creative and goal oriented. ~~Mostly~~ responsible~~, except on Tuesdays~~. Values punctuality."

*important safety tip: resume writing should not be done when on a break from running. the ego can't handle it.*

What flavor?

2012-01-01T19:54:00.002-05:00

"Are you injured?"

The question startled me for some reason.

As that person stood there expectantly waiting for my answer, I realized he asked because he wanted to know. Not because he would launch into a lecture about how I will destroy myself running, or because he was judging me for running back to back marathons, as the non-runners in my life often do, but because he was curious.

I'm an injured runner.
If runners are ~weird~, injured runners are ~FREAKING Neurotic~ and ~weirdly defensive~.

I folded my pride into a little square and neatly tucked it into my back jean pocket.

"Yes" I admitted. "I'm sentenced to pool activities for a few weeks."

It pleased me when the sympathy that flooded his face was quickly replaced with wisdom and a wry smile. "The best pool for aqua jogging is this pool. They play music in there so you won't go crazy. Oh, and rig your iPod *this* way. That way you can have music if you need to Jog in a Y pool."

Visiting Coach ~~Naked~~ Black chimed in, "Oh, and I used to bribe the life guards to talk to me."

Coach Black is always good for a smile.

The Y life guard is male. The pool is rather nippy, er, chilly. If I want conversation, I probably won't need to bribe anyone. Just sayin'.

All this talk of aqua jogging, swimming and coming back stronger helped me realize something.

Being injured once in a while is part of being a runner. The fact that GBA has been a relatively injury free team is probably more luck than anything else.

How one handles an injury determines what kind of runner they are...

Do you give up and take up roller blading or shuffle board? Do you embrace your injury and convalescence, consoling yourself with thoughts like, "is there a flavor of ice-cream that will make today more bearable?" Or do you fret for 12 hours before stepping back to figure out exactly which track will get you back to ~~your drug of choice~~ running with the least amount of lost fitness. I know what kind of runner I am... I'm the kind who "just keeps swimming".

By the end of my encounter with Those People, I had 20 different ways to aqua jog from several seasoned aqua jogging runners, suggested places to do said jogging, and reassurance that if I do it right, I can get back out there as strong or stronger than ever.

And the best news? With a glint in his eye, Coach Black added in, "Swimming will tone you from top to bottom."

Thanks Coach. I'll make sure to stop eating junk food so that we can ALL appreciate that toning later this year when it's time to run clear.

~savor the run~

Slogging

2011-12-30T21:50:00.001-05:00

Biolabud was reading my Facebook post about my new workout regimen and wondered "What is slogging?"

Slogging = the art of sucking while pool jogging.

I mean, no matter how FREAKING EPIC you might be at pool running, pool jogging, aqua jogging, etc. if you're a runner, accustomed to running on land through neighborhoods, city streets and rolling country roads... aqua jogging kinda sucks.

But since it's my "new thing", I figured I better embrace it. Cos that's just how I roll.

Seriously though I didn't know how to go about doing my first slog, so I went online and googled How to Aqua Jog. True story. There were ~like~ 31000 options, so I went ahead and clicked on option 3. Three is my lucky number, I figure, how can I go wrong.

Holy Heckfireandshoot.

The suggested workout for the triathlete (which i'm not, but T is, and she's my wife so that's close enough) was a 3700m swim/45 minute aqua jog BRICK. I can swim, yeah... I'm even pretty decent at it, and am back up to about a mile. So, 3700m? and 45 minutes? What was this, the Ironman level BRICK workout?

oh. yeah. It was.

So I modified it and went with this instead:
Swim #1 500m
Jog 15 min
Swim #2 500m
Jog 20 min with intervals
Swim #3 600m (so I could get a full mile)

It was still pretty intense.

I used the first 15 minute jog to 'just get the hang' of it. The actual workout called for 3 X 5 min at tempo, but I figured (correctly) that there was a learning curve and I should use the first 15 minutes to figure it all out.

I was pretty zapped by the 2nd 500m swim.

And by that I mean I could barely move my arms.

But I still went for it when it was time for the next set of jogging. My idea was that if I did intervals the time would go faster. It was true. Intervals are the only way to survive this kind of workout.

And by the last 200m of cool down, I was barely swimming. I mean that too.

So tomorrow is New Years Eve. And guess what I'm doing....

slogging.

aka Hot Doctors make everything more Fun even the bad stuff

2011-12-29T14:34:00.001-05:00

My Hot Orthopedic Doctor and I spent some quality time together today.

There was Good News & Expected News & Not Awesome News

I arrived promptly at 9:28 for my 9:30am appointment and settled in with Angry Birds, gmail, and some paperworks type stuff.

A mere hour later, I found myself giving an extensive history on the tingly foot, the weird intermittent pain and before I knew it, I was being whisked away into an Xray room. They had to cover the bases. OF course WE knew it wasn't broken, and... it's not.

A bit later HD arrived.

Good news: He's still hot.

He walked in, took my hand, looks me in the eye and says, "It's nice to meet you."

I said, "Wait a minute, I know we've met before, here, in this office."

Charming HD gets bonus points for looking me right in the eyes and saying, "No way I would forget you... are you sure we've met?"

Since I've cut my hair I've been walked passed and unrecognized by people who actually know me, so OK, I'll give him that.

We had some good laughs, he poked my foot with a paperclip ~ a true medical instrument ~ and we bantered while he decided where the problem was really located.

I said, "I really need to get your picture so I can text it to Karasmatic."

He furrowed his beautiful brow, and said, with a slight tilt of his head, "Why? So she can see that I'm still me?"

Deadpan, "No, so she can see that you're still hot."

He burst out laughing, blushed a beautiful pink shade of awesome. And just like that, HD and I were BFF's.

The Expected News: It's a Morton's Neuroma. (it's an inflamed nerve, I've included an image, but this image isn't exactly what I have. It's close enough though)

So he ordered up a "Morton's injection" for my foot.

It went a little like this: HD (still blushing) cradles my foot in his hand, looks up and says with a perfectly straight face, "Bear with me, I'm a little nervous, I've never done this before." There was a pause while I soaked that in, and we ALL started laughing. Of course he's done it before. Anyway, we had a great time with the laughing, and burning stinging of the cortisone shot that didn't hurt as much as I was expecting (he is very distracting... or maybe he has good hands... or both).

"now I'll always remember you, because you were my first...." insert more giggling ~by all of us~ here.

And then, the Not Awesome News: He banned me from running AND cycling for 3 weeks. Not sure which sounds worse, 3 weeks of no running, or 21 days of no running, or 18 days of pool time... I guess it depends on how you view it. He wants me POOL RUNNING, with the belt and ~yeah~.

I can't call that Bad News. It's not bad. Its just not awesome. I'm not too unhappy with the whole thing. I knew I had a problem. 3 weeks of not running is not the end of the world. And, HD was very optimistic about my prognosis. He believes that IF I follow the rules and IF I'm a patient patient I will get better and be fine.

SO, there you go.

The Hot Doc is still hot.

Chocolate Neuroma

2011-12-27T15:09:00.000-05:00

Irony tastes like pure chocolate.

Not the warm gooey kind you get in the bottom of your cocoa mug. Irony tastes like a broken chunk of Baker's chocolate.

The first taste is almost always unexpected.

And never sweet.

The other day, my Witch Dr nearly broke the Hipparules.

He and I were having our usual cheerfulbanter/conversation. And I said, “oh,can you look at this spot on my foot, I think… well, if feels like I stepped ona rock.” I knew right away it was going to be bad by the expression on his face at my description of the injury.

He squeezed my foot as hard ashe could, his eyes widened. He lifted his face toward me and, with my foot still in his grasp, said, “It’s aneuroma… You should see an Orthopedist. This is what…. Do you know…? I know, you're friends with… yeah. You should reach out to him if you’recomfortable.”

Irony.

Yes I know (dot)(dot)(dot).

and when he had his surgery in February I felt so sorry forhim. He was patient and positive, andmuscled through the time of troubles related to his neuroma. His resilience is a reason he’s one of my favorite people. Yes, I know him.

I just wrote the word surgery on my blog. I do not need surgery. I have a long time and a lot of treatments totry before I could even consider surgery as an option. Oh hell no. I’m seeing my 2^nd opinion MDtomorrow for an aggressive non-surgical plan. I’m not sitting on the sidelines of 2012.

I’m not because I think I could go insane.

I'm going to be a patient patient and do as I'm told so that I get better ASAP. Every day without running is like a day on the crazy train.

The depression that comes with not running has slammed intome harder than the 4 pounds of weight I put on over Christmas. It’s heavy and pins me to my bed when I think about going for a swim. I lay awake at 4 a.m. I know there’s a Rowing Machine and Pool whowould both enjoy my company. Yet I don’tget up. I roll over and ignore theworld. Depression is painful.

Far more painful than the neuroma in my foot, which I find a little ironic. The neuroma is all tingly and ~weird~ feeling. Unless it’s pissed off.

THEN it’s more painful than the depression.

Hey Mr. Fat Man

2011-12-20T15:02:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time...

no, that's not going to cut it. Any true story that includes Henrico's finest, "Are you F*#king kidding me!", and concludes with whether or not charges were brought should probably have a different beginning. Let me try again...

A few years ago it was my job to host

THE BIG FAMILY CHRISTMAS DINNER.

(from hell).

I had my family, H's family and any extended family type persons residing on the Eastern Seaboard arriving midday on Christmas. My siblings. and parents. and grandparents. and H's parents. and H's siblings....

So, like, 25+ people, true?

We celebrated the night before with our usual Christmas Eve type stuff... wholesome activities like church and Baileys and cookie decorating and Baileys and Twas the Night Before Christmas and Amaretto and Baileys.

While I was finishing the "prep work" on the Kincaid Print ~slash~ Martha Stewart-esque meal event that would begin at 8am with an Emerill Lagasse breakfast bake and conclude at 4pm with an exquisite leg of Lamb roasted with all the fixings, H picked up his parents at RIC. It was the first time they had ever visited us in Richmond for a major holiday. All that reunion jazz took us well into the wee hours of the morning.

Ok, what I mean by that is "I slaved like a dog while the father & son bonding time went well into the wee hours".

I was still hauling food stuff to the garage fridge well after midnight, and on what would turn out to be my last trip into the house, my hands were too full to lock the garage door behind me.... I wasn't even worried about it at the time.

The garage is detached.

We have a fence.

Inside the fence there are frequently two fierce dogs.

They will bark at anything. Small children, Squirrels, Rabbits, Mailmen, Fed Ex men, you name it.

Fang

After all the Santa chores and cheers were finished (i.e. I ran out of Baileys) I passed out in my bed dreading the o'early hour wake up.

The next morning at about 6AM we heard a loud hollow "WHOMP" from our sunporch. It sounded like vibrating plastic. I turned to H and mumbled, "Honey, the kids have gone downstairs and are playing with the sled we gave them..."

"Oh yeah..." he grumbles. "Hey wait, did YOU get the sled out of the attic?"

Me, instantly awake, "No...."

We both laid in bed for about 1.2 seconds before he bolted down the stairs and I shot into the kids' rooms only to discover that they were sound asleep in their beds.

So, what was that noise?

H's parents & Sister's doors are closed, the kids are in bed, the dogs are with me... so...?

Then I heard a much more intriguing sound. My husband is now downstairs talking in a calm sounding voice, "3XX6 Ridge Drive, yes.... yes... A man is trying to break down our door.... no ma'am... no.... no.... yes.... ",

Hey, wait a minute... he's on with 911! I came running down the stairs just as H asks me... "loudly with emotion"... to "please" lock the kids in with his sister - I heard a shouted, "GOT IT!" from upstairs.

Cujo

The kids are safe with an adult behind a locked door.

I am now downstairs with the dogs.

Remember, they'll bark at anything?

Well. Apparently not.

Those less than worthless mutts will not utter a sound at the sight of a 5'10'' 280+ lbs naked man trying to break into our house.

Admittedly, I was stunned into silence as well.

He was naked. And large. And pale, er, fair skinned.

And throwing himself against the sliding glass door.

And large.

Each pass at the door resulted in the door bowing under the strain.

Each pass at the door resulted in my eyes bowing under the strain.

H turns to me and asks, "do you know him? Is he a neighbor?"

I'm thinking, Are you F*#king kidding me?, but what I went with was, "No, but it's 17 degrees and he's naked, so... he might not look like himself".

H, myself and our two silent dogs were now standing in the livingroom looking out through the sun porch doors at a man who was slobbering and screaming at us. Its as though a mute button was hit on the sound in the living room and all you could hear was the muffled "too loud TV" from the other side of the glass.

Whomp! there it is...

The large pale dark haired man was throwing his body against the door, walking 3 steps away, before launching himself again.

(I mentioned, NAKED, right? Quite a site, I assure you).

Upstairs we suddenly heard H's mother talking to H's father, "Greg? Greg! Wake up! The police are here... and... AND they have their GUNS DRAWN! Greg, I'm SERIOUS. Get. Out. Of. Bed! Did you hear me? Guns!!!"

Five uniformed cops showed up, each in their own cruiser with lights flashing, and each with their guns drawn. Using the duck and cover method as seen on TV, they advanced across our yard. These boys were young cops. The kind who draw duty on Christmas day, and they were so obviously happy to be on a call.

I watched them stealth across the dry grass with hand motions and nods, silently hop our fence gate before the lead cop shouted "FREEZE!"

Did the Naked man freeze???

No.

Remember I said it was just like TV? No one ever "FREEZE"s there either.

Instead he ran into our garage. The police had to kick in the garage door and drag him out into the front yard. They were kind enough to cover him with some kind of tarp from our garage on the way across the yard so my neighbors wouldn't be shocked.

~would that I'd been so lucky~

They popped him a cruiser, and Officer Hottie came in to take our statements.

Remember my silent dogs who have yet to speak a word?

As Officer Hottie crosses the threshold, the mute button was released and the dogs were lifted from their trance. Fangs snarled as they leapt to life in a deafening roar of unleashed rage. I'm grappling with the white one as my husband dragged the other from the room.

The cop grinned an ~awe shucks ma'am~ routine as he drawled beautifully, "they all act that way. It's the uniform that makes dogs afraid & therefore aggressive toward cops and postal workers."

"But", I protested feebly as the shock of the morning set in, "they didn't bark at the intruder..."

Still smiling, "well, he was naked... so they assumed he wasn't a threat."

It was about 9am when they finally left, and not one present had been opened. Breakfast was not in the oven, nothing had been done to prepare for my meal for 20+. My "Halmark Holiday" turned out the way I could have predicted... a disorganized jumble of lateness and crazy, but with a story worth telling.

It turned out the naked would be intruder lived about 5 streets away and was so drunk that the cops said he could have died. He was 19, and we didn't press charges. Around 8pm his father came by our house to apologize. There'd been some damage to our car & garage door, so he casually wrote out a check to cover it and thanked us for not pressing charges.

So, now each year on Christmas when the presents are opened and the wrapping is cleared, when the dishes are cleaned and H & I are sitting by the toasty fire watching the embers burn into ash, we have a standard "Was it a successful holiday?" Checklist that gets covered...

1) no illness?

2) no major cuts or injuries?

3) no cops...?

Happy Holidays!!!

and if you've heard this one before, my apologies for the repeat. I first told this story on the blog several years ago, and at the time I believe I had about 20 readers. So I figured the odds were in my favor. Poor Mel has read it several times.

F.O.S.

2011-12-19T08:39:00.000-05:00

This isn't the first time I've written about fear.

I think every runner has felt it to some degree.

It ranges from the physical fear that grabs at the throat every time I choose my start position at a 5K race to the 16 weeks of psychological terror that punctuated the phrase, "I just signed up for my first marathon....what if (fill in the blank, there are a lot of blanks to choose from here) ."

In general though, I don't suffer from those forms of fear any more. Well, maybe a little, but at least the 5K fear is fleeting. Now that I have four marathons under my feet, the first time marathon fear has been replaced by something stronger. This new fear is potent.

I first tasted it after the Richmond Marathon '11, and it burned a hot path as it traveled to the pit of my stomach. I quickly learned that too much at once can render me senseless, and the hangover the next day is nothing to joke about.

It's not really fear of failure, because I don't wonder if I can finish. I don't question if I can get through the race... I know I can. I know that experience has taught me that I can get my sorry a** across the finish line of a marathon with a flu-like virus. If there was an opportunity for "traditional failure" it was there, right?

No, failure isn't the fear.

I am far more afraid of sucking.

I have F.O.S... aka, fear of sucking.

"Try not to suck"
(a sign on the RVA Marathon course)

What if I go out and do this and I suck at it again. What will my friends, family, coach, peers, blog readers, and self think? Won't they think I'm a selfish B*tch if I keep asking for their support if I suck at this sport?

After sucking at the Richmond Marathon... I thought... well for a few minutes there, I thought I might not be a runner. Shut the front door.

Nina Rosenstand, an ethicist I'd never heard of until Ethics a few semesters ago, said, "Courage is not the absence of fear, rather it is the appropriate response to fear."

I think the news here is that I get to say I'm either courageous ... or stupid. You see, I suffered from bone jarring fear in the four weeks between the two marathons. I felt it on every run, whether it was four miles or fourteen.

This was fear that made me nauseous. Fear that stopped me mid sentence. Fear that I could not ignore and yet I pretended did not exist.

This was the kind of fear I feared acknowledging.

In a lot of respects I live with the idea that if you acknowledge something, it can take the power away. Like, admitting to a boy you have a crush on him is sometimes the easiest way to "get over him", or starting a public speaking engagement with, "Wow, this is a really intense crowd, I'm a little nervous" can pop the cork and release the tension of the moment.

Sometimes though, "speaking evil makes it stronger". I mean seriously, if you learned NOTHING from Harry Potter, surely you learned this.

My main fear going into RBm was centered around the idea that if I failed, I had no one to blame but myself. At RVA I had a virus that knocked me down for days. At RBm, if I sucked, it was all on me.

me, and no one else.

I would have to claim responsibility for my OWN sucking if I sucked.

Of course, that thought is a bad one. Then the pressure the fear grows to another level... and includes embarrassment. People will know I just plain old suck at this... And won't they wonder why in the world I'm doing this if I suck so badly?

Moreover, if I suck, how could I possibly find the courage to try again? 26.2 miles isn't easy. It hurts a lot, and it's more of a mind f*#k that you could possibly know. Why does someone who sucks put themselves through this? There are plenty of other things I could be doing with my time...

...shuffle board anyone?

I did not suck at Rehoboth Beach Marathon. I wasn't epic, but I didn't suck. I was happy with my plan, and I executed it the way I envisioned. Within reason. ~shower~

I wish I could say that the Fear of Sucking was completely extinguished by my success in Rehoboth Beach DE. That it was left behind on the beautiful tree lined path, or had blown away in the gusts that whistled through Henlopen State Park.

I can't though. It's still there.

However, today the appropriate response to that fear is to look ahead with confidence. To keep training, and to set goals that skirt the edge of my abilities.

Because if there's one thing I am, it's courageous.

or stupid.

Uniform Rules

2011-12-17T16:18:00.000-05:00

Dear "Those People",

Please accept my sincere apologies for not properly calling "You People" out when I passed you while I was running a few weeks ago.

I consider myself a SHINING example of the ART of using proper run etiquette. For me to have missed an opportunity to call You People out in a loud early morning mock-up of good cheer is very unlike me. very.

I can appreciate that it must have been devastating for You People.

Please allow me to recommend a good Therapist to help you overcome the rejection.

And, not to make excuses, but I think I know the source of the problem....

Have you ever run into someone you run with, near, or past at a social event and not recognized them? It happens to me all the time.

When I run, I wear outfits that look like this....

or

this....

and because my uniform is so well known, my ~~fans~~ friends are able to find me in a crowd.

But when people run into me wearing "real clothes", they don't usually know what to think. Occasionally they've been known to walk right past me without even saying "hello".

Well, "Those People", when "Us People" ran past you the other day, you looked like a group of runners who were familiar but unknown to me. So I believe I gave the standard low key 3/4 wave and nod, but I guess "You People" didn't see it....

The problem being, when you're The Richmond Elites known for running around RVA in black shorts and running shoes and nothing else, you're completely unrecognizable wearing clothing....

(Huh, that sounded so much less interesting in my head...)

Bray modeling the new
threads

I mean seriously, if This Reflective Person had run into me on the street I'm pretty sure I would have never recognized him, despite the fact that he's mocked me on too many occasions to count...

because now that the weather has turned, he's wearing a shirt....

So I don't want to make excuses for my etiquette fail, because I usually wave at all runners. I will do my best to modify my behavior. And, to be clear, I appreciate the efforts You People have gone through to ensure that You will not be denied a GBA_gf greeting with the adoption of your new Uniform.

Of course, I fully recognize that You People were so inspired by my Dress Code Rules that you selected an appropriate and ~epic~ Uniform of your own.

In the mean time, again, please accept my very sincere apologies.

I promise, you will not escape unnoticed again.

and yes, the
new uniform rules.

regards,
gba_gf

(yeah, I know. That last sentence reads like a little like a threat...)

Experimental Design

2011-12-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

Training for a marathon is an experiment of one.

We train, we try, we reject, we try again... Each marathon is it's own experiment, and each one has more variables than can possibly be anticipated or controlled.

For my training for Suntrust Richmond Marathon I did everything "right".

I practiced in the outfit, I carefully timed the purchase and miles in The Race Shoes. I tasted the race day "nutrition", ate the Tums, did dress rehearsals for The Show, I lined up my supporting cast, I wrote my academy award speech... and none of that mattered because as we are all sick to death of hearing ~ I was sick.

So the week before Rehoboth Beach Seashore Marathon I realized I was not conducting my experiment in the same rational meaningful way.

I didn't have a pair of shoes with the right number of miles on them!
I did NOT have a shirt that was the right weight.

New shirt, New Shoes, New Experiment.

I had NOT practiced my nutrition strategy since early November.
I didn't even know what I was going to eat before the race, and had no idea what I wanted to do if the weather was too cold, windy, rainy to wear my "go to socks/skirt".

I bought new shoes with 8 days till RBm. I had no choice, right? Well, not only were they new and untried, I ended up a new style entirely. ~gasp~ I loved them so much that I went for it. It worked out. Lucky me. Don't try this at home.

I cut the tags off a new Turtle neck on race morning. Seriously a gamble. Of course, I did have Pixie coat my entire back in body glide... it was cozy.

My pre-race meal was something I struggled with... I made it up on the fly....

I accidentally bought the wrong flavor of Honey Stingers. So, I ate something I had never eaten before during the race. It was just what it was. Fortunately Honey Stingers are light in flavor so I didn't vom. Probably a lucky break to be honest, given how sensitive my stomach is....

And still, with all these unknowns, my day turned out well for me. It wasn't perfect, but then, these things never are....

I learned so much in Rehoboth Beach Marathon. I'm still processing it all. But I think one of my take away lessons is to relax a little, stop trying to control every single little detail. Life isn't meant to be managed at that level.

~savor the run~

Run the plan, keep it simple.

2011-12-11T08:36:00.001-05:00

You didn’t train for 28 weeks not to bring it on race day.

In one respect, truer words have never been written. But in another respect, I felt as though Inever trained for Rehoboth Beach Marathon. I just ran a whole bunch between Richmond Marathon on 11/12 and RBm on12/10.

The why of the 2^nd marathon in 28 days issimple. I had to see if I sucked atrunning. I had to know. Because why was I out there doing this, if Iactually sucked?

I don’t suck at running. Did I run a sub 4 at RBm? Nope. But running a sub 4 marathon does not definethe difference between sucking & not sucking.

For me to get a sub 4 marathon, I would need a PERFECTday. I am fully aware of this. And as beautiful of a day as it was onSaturday, the wind forecast definitely indicated that it wasn’t THE PERFECT DAY.

Pixie and I arrived at her friend’s house in Harbeson DE atexactly the same time on Friday afternoon. We dropped our bags and hit the road for Rehoboth. The Expo was tiny, but efficient. Pixie was torn between doing the full orhalf. She was trained for both. We talked to the race director & decideddecisions could be made in the morning.

In RB the wind was 9mph. No problem right? Well, thecouple Pixie & I stayed with are a boat owning family, and Ben says, “Butyou’re not running in RB, you’re running up to the Ferry Terminal? That’s not in RB. The wind forecast up there will be different.

Weather Forecast for Rehoboth was 27 degrees at the start,9mph wind. Okay, that covers the first 4miles and the last 3…

Weather for miles 10 – 20?

Wind Speed	14 mph
Gust Speed	21 mph

So I made a decision. I would add 5 minutes to all my goals.

The UBER goal ~~3:59:59~~ 4:05:00

The Actual goal ~~4:05:00~~ 4:10:00

The fall back goal ~~4:18:01~~ 4:18:01... yeah, so?

My race plan = KISS. Keep it simple stupid.

Don’t rush, you’ve got all day. Run the 1^st mile at around a 9:30– 9:40.
Hit every water stop. I planned to walk everysingle water stop.
Run even splits. There’s no such thing as a bank in Marathon. Anything you ‘put in the bank’ gets takenback at 2X the cost at the end of the race. My idea was that I would just run 9:05 – 9:15’s for the rest of therace. well, it was a plan anyway...
~Savor the run~

Pre-race Pixies

Overnight there was rain, which wasn’t in the forecast and Ididn’t have clothing for… it was on mymind as I was sleeping. I had a pile ofclothing… because the wind was going to be an issue and I have raynaud'sdisease. I’ve never mentioned it herebefore because in all seriousness, it’s been years since I’ve had a flareup. I’ve had 3 in the last 3 weeks. I knew if I could keep my core warm, myhands would be OK.

I wore a base layer, a compression T-neck, a vest, aLululemon skirt, compression socks, real gloves (UA – not throw away), and arunning hat. And because I’m me, Itossed a light-weight Santa Hat on top.

I ate ¼ PB&J sandwich, a large banana & 2 Tums. Packed honey stingers, Tums, salt tabs in myskirt.

Pixie and I ran into MTT Kristi ~ who STILL needs a cute bloggyname as cute as she is ~ pre race & wished her luck. I knew we would be no where near her in thestart corral (she CRUSHED her Half). Pixie decided to run the Half = smart. I still dragged Pixie all theway to the back of the race pack. Isaid, “we’re not getting sucked out too fast if we start back here.” I had a great playlist, thanks to my friends... every now and then I noted a song as I passed a mile marker.

It's no surprise to me I am My Own Worst Enemy… kick the living sh*t out of me…

Miles 1- 2 residential. I cut the corners tight, ran tangents. There was no weaving as the race was small. By mile 3 my garmin said I was slightly aheadof the mile markers. Determination and a laid back attitude combined to get me a nice easy relaxed marathon start. mile 1 - 9:45, 2 - 9:08, 3 - 8:54.

Cow Bell spectator made me smile.

Walked the water stop at mile 4 and dropped my vest. It was planned, but I worried I would need itlater… I was right to worry.

I didn't take this photo,
I found it on the net, but
this is mile 5 or 6 of RBm.

Pixie and I ran off and on together, but really, she wastrying to find her pace. At mile 5 theroute picked up a path. Yes, a treelined path. A spectator was holding asign, “Run Like Zombies Are Chasing You”. I thought of my little sister.

mile 4 - 9:13, 5 - 9:05, 6 - 8:59

Kesha~ if I keep it up like a love sick crackhead! I can never hear that songwithout thinking of Q.

I passed this guy dressed in all black and a santa hat, inmy driest voice, “Nice Hat.” Helaughed. I noted his bib was for the full and wesettled in together.

It was comfortable. People assumed we were together. All black. Santa hats. There were not manyspectators. Occasionally we’d come towhere the path ran near a street and a cluster of spectators would cheerus. They were great. A shout out to the guy dressed as Will Ferrel complete with Cow Bell, and two women spectators who were EPIC, laughing, and cheering EVERY runner - they chased the course and were ALL over the place when we least expected it.

miles 7- 9:04,8 - 9:09, 9- 8:47, 10- 9:10

anyone familiar with my recurring
marathon nightmare will find this
particularly interesting, because THIS
was on the marathon course.

At mile 9 the Half split off. I introduced myself to my neighbor Rick, fromCT. A Patriots fan who grew up in RI. InRehoboth to redeem himself after a poor showing in Philly. We had that in common. The pace was relaxed. We talked in little bits. I would lose him at each water stop and catchhim about 1/3 mile into the next mile. The wind started to become a factor. I drafted a big runner. But hewas going too fast for me.

11- 8:48, 12- 9:01, 13 - 9:07, 14 - 9:07

Rick and I hung together until well into Cape Henlopen Park. Funny, I overheard someone say it was“hilly”. After running the cities of SanFrancisco CA, Providence RI & Richmond VA ~ those aren’t hills. Those are tiny little sand dunes.

After the mile 15 water stop I didn’t catch Rick. I was about 10 feet behind him… and then20. I was being battered by the wind, mylegs were tiring and I realized that I needed to let that go. (He rana beautiful race of 3:59:change)

15 - 9:24, 16 - 9:50, 17 - 9:23.

Beastie Boys ~ Whatcha whatcha whatcha want? ... I said where'd you get your information from huh?

At 18, glanced at my watch and knew a 4:05 was do-able but going to be tough. At 19 I turned the corner, a gust of windfunneled between two buildings smacked into my face and I was blown to a stop. It was COLD. I tugged my gloves back into place.

18- 9:22, 19.... 12:06, 20 - 10:04, 21 - 10:02

That mile was probably the physically hardest. Wind from all directions. But I was determined. I kept thinking, “Dude, you knew it would bewindy. Be thankful that you’re heredoing this and doing it well”. Around now I got abad cramp in my diaphragm. It preventedme from drawing a full breath. I chokeda salt pill down, 2 tums, and spent a little extra time at the next water stoptaking in 2 cups of liquid. About a halfmile (?) later it released and I could run well again. I lost some time in that, but I wasn’tworried about my PR. I was worried about my 4:10.

At mile 22ish we picked the trails back up again. I was alone. ~like~ I could see a runner about½ mile ahead of me because she had pink sleeves on, I could hear a runnerbehind me.

I tried hard to stay in the moment. To not let my head get the best of me. I've never run a marathon alone before. I've always run at least part of it with a Posse. Marathoning is one giant mind f*#k. You’ve got to know that before you go in…

I thought of KC & 3L: Focus on Breathing. Steps. Shoulders.

I thought of Paulie & my form. So I leaned into my run.

I thought of two women I consider friends. On the east & west coasts. Both knew I was out running. And suddenly I felt a hand on each shoulder pushing me. I was completely alone except for a man about 100 meters behindme. But it felt as though someone wasthere carrying me.

So maybe all the good wishes from around the country came tome right then. Or maybe the gods of running touched me in the moment. Or maybe,probably, I was just hallucinating. Butfor a few minutes, running was so easy, I wasn’t even working.

22 - 9:37

Super Freak … the kind you don’t take home to mother…. she's all right.

Mentally this was the hardest... 23 - 24. Not because I hit the wall, but I started to dry heave as I was running. Then I had a sensation of vertigo. I couldn’t figure out if it was the shadows/light peeking through the trees, or real vertigo. I walked for 49 seconds, and ran on, and walked again for 30 seconds a few minutes later. The dry heaves stopped. I didn't want to get discouraged. I shook off the negative thoughts and grumbled aloud, "You don't suck. Dry heaves while running suck, but you don't suck."

23 - 11:41, 24 - 11:01, 25 - 10:15

At mile 24 we came back out to the road. I was leapfrogging the pink sleeves and theguy. I walked the mile 25ish waterstop. He did too. I started to run, he was walking. I turned to him as I passed him and said,“Dude, you didn’t train all this time to not bring it the last mile on RaceDay.” (T rocks) He smiled and said, “You’reright!”. We introduced ourselves andslugged ahead.

Not 2 minutes later my new friend Joe, from NJ, invited me back to his hotelroom to shower so I wouldn’t have to drive home all sweaty… and I guess he was feeling gutsy so he wentahead and asked me to dinner… maybe some wine to celebrate?

I thanked him for the offer,and explained that my husband would take a dim view on a dinner/wine/showerscenario, but that IF I was single it would have been an offer I would haveseriously considered. I don't know what to say here, it must be the socks/skirt... aka slightly naughty catholic school girl look...

26 - 9:35

Then we saw Pixie waiting for us at 25.2.. She wasgreat. Cheerful and bouncing, (HIGH OFFHER 1/2 PR) and we all enjoyed her energy. Joekicked it into gear, and I thought, “Go get it Joe!” and Pixie asked if I hadanything to bring? Well. That was it. I was bringing it.

I ran 4:09:44.

Twoyears ago I would have sold my soul for a sub 4:10. A few weeks ago I would have probably had atough time swallowing a 4:10. It’s funnywhat 28 days and a reality check will do for a person.

I know there’s a 4:05 in me, and the sub 4 will happen. But right now, today, I am satisfied with my4:09.

Because I ran the plan. I didn’t rush, I walked my stops, I muscled through the wind, and Ididn’t let the self doubt over take me. I still added 10 minutes to the 2^nd half of themarathon. The wind, the cramp, the dryheaves, the vertigo… that all added up to just about 10 minutes.

the "boring" course passes this view.

SOME FINAL WORDS on RBMarathon:

It's well organized. The volunteers are STELLAR. The course was pretty (I heard someone say boring, but I didn't find it to be particularly boring, just peaceful). It's a small race, so they picked up all the discarded clothing and brought it to the finish, including my vest. And the pancake breakfast/after party was fabulous. I will do that race again.

a.k.a. 28 days later...

2011-12-10T20:32:00.001-05:00

28 days later....

Rehoboth Beach Marathon.... 4:09:46

I ran 2 marathons in 28 days.

More details tomorrow or the day after, once I've had time to process and sleep. In the mean time, let's just go with:

"I didn't suck."

a.k.a. we hope for the best and run the plan....

2011-12-09T07:17:00.000-05:00

If marathoning has taught me anything this year, it's that life is not within our control. So if I was to run another marathon, all I can do on race day is hope for the best, and run the plan, and that will result in the best possible outcome for the day.

I will not guarantee the best possible outcome. But, instead, the best possible outcome for THAT day.

Like Shifu tries to argue - I like to think that I can control things. I can control my training, I can control my eating and sleep. I can control my pace. I can control...

not a whole lot else on race day.

We are all runners here, for the most part.

Some times we wake up, and we go for a run, and we channel Kara... or we are RUN PRE... or our bodies are running machines. Nothing can stop us. Our lungs, hearts, legs, arms, core and mind work together and we cover the miles with ease. Even blistering paces feel easy.

Sometimes we wake up with lead strapped to our feet. Or poured into our quads. We slug through our run with tired minds, legs, arms and core. Our hearts pound in our chests, our lungs fight to exchange air.

And a lot of the time I have no idea when I'm going to have a good day, or a bad day, until deep into my run.

I can't control that, because I don't often know what's missing or been missed until after the fact. I know where I went wrong on my 18 miles from hell in September of this year. I failed to drink all day on Friday and stayed up late, through no fault of my own. 4 hours of sleep and no liquids = run fail.

I can't control the weather - be it wind, heat, rain or cold... or worse, wind... I said wind twice because it's twice as bad than anything else on that list. I can't control the germs either. I can wash my hands and douse the household in bleach, but it's all in vain, because all it takes to get sick is one sweet good night kiss from a 5 year old.

While I can control my training, I can't control the timing of an over use injury. I can control my iron intake, but I can't entirely control the amount of ferritin in my blood.

There is nothing I can do but hope for the best and run my plan on race day, because I don't suck at running.

I mean, there would be nothing to do but hope for the best... if I happened to be doing another marathon.

Not that I am doing one... but if I was, I mean...

Here's hoping.

Christmas Newsletter Fail

2011-12-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

I have decided. I don’t need to write a Christmas newsletter anymore.

I have Facebook.

The newsletter is obsolete.

No really, the newsletter is for bragging about awesomeness,right?

Well, seriously, isn’t Facebook for bragging aboutawesomeness?

like bragging about how awesome my kids were when they assembledthe tree?

About bragging about how I got into the tough nursingprogram?

And about how I ran an XYZ minute PR on XYZ date at XYZrace?

So why do I need to write a newsletter….

Not only that, but the status updates of my friends never fail to keep me up to date on their children & the greatness that their children produce in the form of art, music, glue facials, and grades. So many trees will be saved this year, all thanks to Facebook.

Of course, part of the reason that I don't write a newsletter this year is because of it's obnoxiousness....

Dear Family & Friends,

We hope this year has been as good to you as it has been forus. This year has been exceptional onmany levels.

GBA gf’s parenting skillz reached an all time high when shethreatened to sell the kids on e-bay enough that our youngest child threatenedjust this week to sell Daddy. We’re notanticipating a lot of income off that endeavor, but B’nut is hopeful that wemake enough to go back to Disney World.

As a family we scored a new babysitter. She’s remarkable, and lovely. And has “mad basketball skills”, and #1 Son’sreally hoping he grows very tall very fast in the hopes that she might agree tomarry him, or at least teach him to play basketball in the near future.

C has survived the first 13 weeks of middle school with somequickly passing tears and minimal cussing. Ok, there was some cussing & crying by mommy, not too much though.

It was a near miss, but GBA gf did not choose to drop H's cat off at the SPCA, even after it sprayed her new Brooks Adrenaline....

Yes, I think probably we should just skip the letter and send out a photo card instead...

An Open Letter to my 10K PR

2011-12-02T08:30:00.000-05:00

Dear 10K PR,

I know, you're feeling neglected. The last time I talked about you in a positive way was March of 2010. And it wasn't even a big brag. It was a "1 second PR because the Witch Dr said I wasn't allowed to run faster than that."

Most of the time I start out with, "10K PR is kinda old...", or, "well, 10K PR is 54:54, but I haven't run one in a while....". I'm sorry for that 10K PR. I really am.

It's not that I love 8K PR more than I love you.

Ukrop's Monument Avenue 10K
Fast, flat, fun... come run it with me!

It's just... that... I love 8K PR more than I love you.

You're a little long in the tooth. (gasp)

And that's fixable. I know exactly what I need to do. I have a race all picked out. I need to train for a race specific goal. I need to let the long slow distances of the marathon go for a while and focus on shorter distances.

Not because they're easier.

They're not. Truly, each race holds its own challenges. A marathon is freaking hard. Well, someone's going to have a stroke when I say this but, in my opinion, a 5K deserves respect too. And as such, so does a 10K. So from now until April I'm going to focus on you 10K PR. Because you deserve my attention.

You are worthy.

I know what needs to be done. And I know where my weakness lies. Accountability with speed work. So knowing this, I signed up for the A10K training team with RRRC.

I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K without dying.
(hey, some goals are loftier than others)
I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K in less than an hour.
(and not have my running partner go into labor on the course)
I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K in less than 55 minutes.
(and finished that race in 54:54)
....today. All I want is to just run as hard and well as I can at the 10K distance.
(Well that's a little vague).

10K PR, you and me, we're going places together.

regards,
gba_gf

and that's what happens when you sell one of your offspring on eBay to the highest bidder

2011-12-01T07:20:00.000-05:00

Last night was a typical night here.

We did the homework Nazi routine, scrambled to chauffeur our kids to their various events, I came home and started dinner, H came home and we had the usual exchange. You know,

"Hi, how was your day."

"Fine."

"Great, good. yada yada." (we've been married a long time, he doesn't really listen to me 92% of the time).

"So what's for dinner?"

And that's when I casually told my husband that I sold one of the kids on eBay for $12.82.

He stood before me with a stricken look on his face, mouth slack jawed and slowly dawning horror as my words sunk in... "Seriously?" He choked out through trembling lips. His indrawn breath was followed by a second gasp. "That doesn't even sound normal! You're making that up."

OK. What I actually said was not actually related to e-bay, it was instead more along the lines of:

"I'm making Spaghetti Squash Taco's for dinner."

And so that's how I ended up cooking 2 meals for dinner last night.

One for me. And one for Them.

So. Does anyone want to guess how his response to the information regarding the new/used treadmill delivery date went down?....

Yeah, it was almost as good as spaghetti squash.

OBX running

2011-11-29T08:46:00.000-05:00

I keep trying to figure out what it is I want to say about my weekend of solo running on OBX (Outer Banks of North Carolina). It wasn't a stellar run. The air was sweet though. Blog worthy.

It was a beautiful day. There was no blast of wind in my face to discourage me, and yet, I wasn't feeling it.

The green was still green and the sky was still blue. I saw runners and cyclists. Surfer dudes and fishermen in giant diesel coughing pickup trucks. The roads were my only option. It is hunting season.

The watchful lady looked over me with her solitary eye. I ran from shaded roads to blinding sun and back again. I was scolded by Canadian Geese, probably because I'm a southern girl, but you never know with geese. They don't seem very discerning.

And I ran into a deer friend of mine. Literally, within feet of him. If I'd been insane, I could have reached out to touch his chestnut coat. He was magnificent. I heard him make a low woofing sound of air as he took me in. The wet black nose flared, and his wide eyes widened. I'm pretty sure he's telling his deer wife about the magnificent human runner he met on the road. As I slowly extracted my phone from my pocket for a photo he jumped two graceful bounds that covered about 20 feet, and then he stopped, posing for the camera. His gaze said, "So are you going to take it, or what?"

I took the photo, and then we both ran on.

I dropped past Shutter Up and ate a small piece of banana and took some water, but it wasn't quite enough.

Or perhaps too much.

Within a few more miles I was done, and I headed for the shower. Initially, I thought I wasn't strong enough to finish.

And then I shrugged off the mantle of guilt and said, "this kind of thinking is unproductive".

I went back to eating too much pie, drinking margaritas and enjoying the time I get with my father at the beach. Because some things are worth feeling guilty about, and dropping off a solo vacation run just isn't one of them.

Besides, I told myself on Saturday, It's not like you're training for a marathon or something. You're just running. A lot.

~savor the run~

21 Random Facts: GBA_gf

2011-11-24T16:18:00.000-05:00

I was tagged by TMB @ Racing With Babes to post 21 random facts about me me me. Seems like all I do is talk about myself, but ~ what'ev, it's my blog~.

CORE 4:
Richmond marathon '11

1. CORE 4: I run with a lot of strong women. But there are 4 of us who just fit together like a puzzle. We're all very different, from our ages to our upbringing, but we love to run. And that love & purity for our sport, plus the understanding that "this isn't a game" and that "any competition you have is really with yourself", is ingrained in us. Together we're pretty much unstoppable.

2. NAME SAKE: My family's roots are in Virginia. Very very much so. My Grandmother is a fried green tomatoes, bacon, fried apples and fried okra kind of woman. So my entire life I believed I was named for the beautiful state in which I was born. Uh, Grandma Hannah informed me a few years ago, I was, in fact, named for VMI. ~um~ sure, why not.

snow run!
and yes, I'm in a skirt

3. RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY!: I love Monty Python, but more than that, I love to run OUTSIDE no matter the weather. Snow? No problem. Cold rain? Absolutely. 115 degree heat index? Sure, why not... So, don't ask me to join you at the Y on a dreadmill "run". I will be busy that day. Unless you plead your case really well or are particularly hot and there are mirrors. And a bribe doesn't hurt either...

4. SINGING THE BLUES: After my marathons I'm typically shut down with a short term depression that promotes some beautiful writing. And crankiness. But this year, I didn't have that. I didn't have time. I was sick.

5. OFF KEY: Actually, I used to sing. I had enough talent that I ~ yeah ~ ok, I didn't suck. But at a young age I suffered a serious ear infection that left me unable to hear myself very well, and I lost my Mo-Jo.

6. COWBOY UP: When I was in highschool I worked on a ranch wrangling horses. I wore a western hat, long sleeved shirts, and jeans 90% of my time. I didn't wear skirts. Couldn't stand them. ~irony~. I bottle fed calves, mended fences, and was on a horse for about 4 hours a day/5 days a week during that time in my life. It didn't suck.

7. FASTINISTA: Imagine what your reaction would be if Sarah Bowen Shea of Run Like A Mother: The Book called and asked for an interview for the magazine article she was writing for Runner's World on women's running fashion? Yeah, well, I wasn't NEARLY that cool in real life.

8. BQ or DQ: A few years ago a woman posing as my running coach told me I could never be a fast runner and that I could never qualify for Boston. I stupidly believed her and have always told people I was never interested in a BQ. Only, you know what? I ran a 37:41 8K this year. That sort of performance suggests to me that maybe, just maybe, I've been selling myself short. So for the record: One day I'm going to Boston.

9. BADA** IN LEVELS: me ~ "I hung out and chatted with Bart Yasso tonight... I think that makes me a little bit bada**." Q ~ "Tonight, you are a little bit bada**, on Saturday, you're going to be Galactically BadA**". Oh, that Saturday, I totally was.... Anyway, my initials are gf, as in Girl Friend. Thus, GBA_GF.

10. BFF: Speaking of Bart Yasso, he actually claims me on Twitter as his BFF. And Facebook. And at the San Francisco Marathon/Half Marathon. So... I guess, yeah, I'm Bart Yasso's BFF. You're jealous.

11. PLAYGROUP DYSMORPHIA: I started running because I was jealous of all my friends who were runners. They seemed convinced that "I could do this too". I kept running because we made a habit of "running playgroup". That is, we would meet for a BOB run, and then let the kids play afterward. Life was good. Eventually we were just running with out the playgroup. Poor kids rarely even get to play anymore....

12. HEY WAKE UP!: Hey Wake Up is a Sandra Boynton book. I love her books. Particularly But Not the Hippopotamus. I also get up freakishly early. I am comfortable with a little less than 6.5 hours of sleep a night.

13. FITS OF LOVE: Bike fit is everything. I never believed that until I believed it. Believe it. I owned a stupid brand new pink schwinn for over a year and rode it about 5 times... I bought a TREK sl1000 used and rode it about 5 times in the first 5 days I owned it.

14. WEIRD HOBBIES I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR: I love to decorate cakes. I don't have time to do that. I love to draw. I don't have time to do that. I love to write.... I make time for that one.

15. WRITE STUFF: On a whim I submitted something to a publication this year in April. I'm now a regular contributor for a local running publication and I LOVE IT. It's just the right amount of writing for me. There's no pressure. And the people who run the magazine seem to rather enjoy my articles, so that's nice too.

16. BACK IN BLACK: I'm not elite. I can run though. Still, when the advanced "black" team coach asked me to join them this year for a day, I wasn't sure it was a good idea. Turns out it was one of the smartest things I did in 2011. My Advice To All My Readers - sometimes it's a good idea, once in a while, to go run with people who are much, much, faster than you are... Trust me on this one.

17. OBX. I go to the OBX the way some people go to the grocery store. Yeah, like frequently for small trips. But I love it there.

18. I DON'T CAMP.

19. PHOTO FINISH! My finish photo from Suntrust Richmond Marathon this year should be an advertisement for Lululemon, Brightroom photography, and the Suntrust Richmond Marathon. I mean seriously, who looks like that after running 26.2 miles?

20. RUNNERS ARE WEIRD: I came to this conclusion a while back. Runners are weird. We will talk about anything, whether it's appropriate or not. Many are socially awkward. Some are geeks. Some are nerds. Some are safety Nazi's. But weirdness abounds. Even the coolest runners are a little weird. I get up at 4:30 almost every day so I can run before the sun "wakes up". who does that? A weird person, that's who.

21. ~SAVOR THE RUN~: I could write 10,000 words about why I say ~savor the run~. Or I could write 3. "I love running". The truth is, I love to run so much that I wish I could taste it, let it melt on my tongue, let it slide down to the back of my mouth so that the flavor assaults my senses. I would want to smell it first though, to get a hint of what was to come. For that matter, I might look at it on my plate and just admire the vibrant colors.
I have a sensitive stomach and I'm allergic to shellfish. If I'd known that mousse would make me sick every time I ate it, I might have really savored that first and last taste. If I'd known I would become deathly allergic to shellfish out of the blue, I would have slowed down and enjoyed that last bite of lobster. I would have eaten slowly because that was the last bite I would ever get. Sometimes I think we're (Americans in general) very focused on getting to the next thing. We're impatient as a society.
I try to be in each moment for as long as possible while I'm running.
Do I savor every run? No, not a chance, but I think it's an ideal I can strive toward.

Now I am supposed to TAG 10 bloggers - forgive me if you've been tagged, I'm a little behind on my reading!

Alex @ Tales of an Iron Housewife
Rene @ Amherst Shuffle
Jen @ Setting you Free
Mer @ Thereputic Runnings of a Mom
Red @ CAUTION: Redhead Running
Chris @ Heavy Steps

Shanz @ Shanz1913's
Pam @ Life Began at 30
Jenny @ Small Beginnings
MCM @ MCMMama

ThanksGIVING "SWEEPS" VOTE OFF

2011-11-23T05:21:00.000-05:00

Seriously, I *think* this is my last follower racing this month... If I'm wrong or I missed someone, my apologies...

Carrie is running her first Half marathon on Thanksgiving.

I'm proud of her.

She trained smart.
She listened to her body.
She's going to FREAKING ROCK.

Own.every.mile. Carrie. You only get to run your first Half Marathon once. Believe in yourself. Savor EVERY moment. Half Crazy, or Half Sane, you're in good company.

Taper Island will be lonely without you!

Short Cuts

2011-11-21T07:10:00.001-05:00

I wasn't struck down with the Post Marathon Blues this year.

In truth I think I was so devastated by how the race went that my depression started at mile 17.5 of the race, and had a chance to fully burn off by about 3 days after. That's not to say that I am not still a little sad about how things turned out... but on the other hand, how could I possibly be sad about the marathon? It was a beautiful day, 100 of my friends ran it, the people I love finished strong and all are healthy & whole.

I ran alone today. It was ~savor~.

But it wasn't easy. I didn't bother looking at my watch, I just ran. in the dark. I was meeting some friends about 45 minutes into my run, and I contemplated cutting my mileage short to make sure I had time to get there. Instead I just picked up the pace.

If I cut the mileage, I would have known. It would have bugged me all day. I *should've* run the rest would play in my brain. And then there would be guilt. Ah, guilt. How I loathe thee. What runner doesn't suffer from some kind of guilt now and again?

Of course, we've all heard of the runner blogger who skims a few miles off her marathon ever year. I don't really know why she does it. It makes me sad because in all truth, she's a lovely girl. Super nice, and full of the qualities we all enjoy in a friend. The last time I saw her though, I thought she looked a little guilt ridden. Her eyes looked haunted, and she seemed fake.

I wish I'd had the guts to pull her aside and say, we like you. You're a great girl. You're too fabulous for words and not because you raise money for (insert charity here), but because you are fun, and funny, and deep down inside I know you have a good heart. You're going to be a success at whatever you do... so if you don't want to run the whole 26.2 miles, then don't. But don't register for it either.

I wish I'd said that because I know what it's like to pine for a short cut so you can get your goal. Oh, I admit - I thought about it. I know Richmond like the back of my hand. At any point I could have made a turn, a cut, a loop, and boom - I could have "run" a brag worthy marathon time. I would have surely done a sub 4. Hell, probably could've eked out a BQ in all that.

Of course I didn't do that.

Not because someone might have seen me and asked. Because that's so unimportant. I would have known. I would have seen me. And at the end of the day, I am the only one who matters to me. My 4:26:and change isn't brag worthy, but I own that time. I have to, it's mine.

And maybe that's where my redemption for Richmond marathon will be found too.

Ownership.

Philly Edition of Taper Island

2011-11-18T06:30:00.000-05:00

Taper Island.

Well, just cos my exhausted and way over stimulated self is off the island, doesn't mean it's a vacant piece of property. Let's hear it for Allison - Running Philly 26.2!

Also, a Those People are off to run Philly too. Coach Black, there's nothing I can say to help you have a great race.... just Try not to Suck, be in the moment, and ~savor the run~. I think I heard a rumor that Mrs Black is also registered? So if that's correct, run well Mrs. Black!

Congrats runners... go, be epic.

a.k.a. when it all goes to h*ll despite all the training

2011-11-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

What happens when you train for something for 20 weeks, andwhen that day comes, it’s a total cluster f*ck?

That’s how I feel about my race.

I trained. I worked hard. I conducted anexperiment of one. I did myhomework. I kept logs and journals. I knowexactly what I ate, when I ate it on every run. I gu’d, stingered and liquid aided myself for 20 odd weeks. I did tempo runs. I did long runs. I did hot runs. I ran with people and I ran alone. I mentally pictured myself on thecourse. I crossed on cross days and Irested on rest days… and …

Nothing I did to prepare myself for the marathon made adifference, because I was sick.

I was sick and I sucked, only, I didn’t know that at thetime. I thought I was just sucking forsome reason.

Bad runs happen. Theyhappen to all of us. They could happento anyone at any given time. I knowthis.

But somehow, in my mind, I feel like the world was mywitness at my suckage.

I guess there are a few ways I could handle this.

1) I could quit running marathons. Give them up. Walk away. Embrace otherdistances that are less mentally challenging and physically demanding. Distances that require less recovery. And distances that are easily raced. Not because they’re easy, but because theraces are easily found. If you screw upa 5K, wait till next weekend, they’ll be another one 3 miles away. For that matter, there are probably 8 tochoose from, so you can pick the flattest course or the one with the mostspectators or the one that supports the charity you prefer. And there’s no shame in a 10K. I think shorter distances are reallyunderrated. That’s where you gain yourspeed. So there you go. Option 1. Quit marathons. Get Faster.

2) I could find another race to RACE, and figure outif this was an isolated occurrence. It’srisky. What if I suck at the nextone? That will be the nail in thecoffin. It could be so mentally crushingthat I don’t bounce right back and recover. Or. What if I RULE the nextone? What if I own it? Destroy it? Blow my expectations out of the water, or atthe very least, meet the expectations.

3) I could find another race to run, and see what happens. Instead of shooting for some UBER GOAL, I could just go for a run and see what happens.

It really comes down to two things. I am faced with the choice to walk away or to walk on.

Just, the thing is, that the old me… the one you all don’tknow... she would have walked away. Shewould have said, “well, that sucked, we probably hated running anyway. Let’s take up roller blading” and thatwould have been that…

...and that’s justnot who I am any more.

So I will decide what my heart wants to do…

In the mean time, I’m just going to run without anypressure or plan.

~savor the run~

Photo Finish

2011-11-16T08:30:00.000-05:00

The photos from RVA were pretty awesome... well, the ones that were awesome were awesome.

mile 21

mile 26.1

can I just say, Young Stephanie & I are seriously bad ass here? Like, seriously.

finish line!

Congratulations! Probably one of
the greatest moments of my running life...
so. not. kidding.

And Then What Happened....

2011-11-13T19:48:00.001-05:00

Richmond Marathon Race Report 2011

Slept in a hotel down town with Pixie Green the night beforemy race (scantily clad pillow fights aside, I slept really well...). I woke up early and walked to the meet point. I had connected witha runner on the SunTrust Marathon Facebook Page who needed someone to pleasepick up his packet. 5 emails and threeweeks later, I handed him his race packet on the steps of SunTrust Bank.

I got some pre-race love from SpeeDee. Connected with the posse. And got a hug from Coach Black that made mefeel down right warm. At this point, Iwas pretty sure that TODAY WAS MY DAY. I had a goal, a back up goal, and abasket goal.

In the start corral there was snuggling, it was cozy, Jess& Jodi joined the fun, and we all saw DeNiece “off to find her group”. It was the last time I would see DeNiece untilwe finished, and as she walked away I thought – go get it Denise. Go get that BQ.

Miles 1 – 5 Karasmatic & Q, 3L & KC, & I hadway too much fun talking about… well, NOT talking about Lickable Abs, Cycling,and other random sh*t. There was hazing,razzing, and general love in the air. Ifelt PERFECT. I amcertain I drank at least 8 oz. of water in the first 6 miles. Stingers on schedule. I felt great, and when it was time to decide on my pace for the next 6 miles, I decided to go for the UBER goal pace. It wasn't blistering, I run 8:50's all the time.

Saw the fam in the Party Zone at 6, cruised through to the hill at 10. We held each other in check, I refilled my empty bottle. There was something on the edgeof my mind that wondered why my joints were achy at mile 10. I brushed it back with a positive thoughtabout not thinking negative thoughts.

Miles 10 – 12 Blair! The KING of Pink Nation. It was GREATto see him, he has the most epic smile – but I admitted to him, I didn’t feelquite right at this point. I couldn’tput my finger on the “why” of it. Idropped back into a slightly more “easy” pace around a 9. I wasn’t looking at my watch, just running on feel.

So then what happened? Well, I GOT A HALF MARATHON PR – 1:56:48.

After the half mats I saw Cozy & 3L for the last timeand I thought to myself – go get it girls.

Around 14 I had a bad moment where the entire worldspun. This is a distance I normally findpretty easy… so… I was weirded out. Icouldn’t walk a straight line & stumbled a few times. My head came back to me, and I startedjogging. MTT Coach Val spotted me… “I’m dizzy”… and so we started walkingtogether. She was so sweet. “I had to stop 3 times at Chicago” ~ awe,thanks Val.

I left her, and turned for the bridge. I think I was running again, but maybenot. Who knows, the entire run at thispoint became a play of "how long can you run before the world spins?" SpeeDee jumpedin with me. I told her that I waschomping down honey stingers and drinking, but something wasn’t on track.

And then what happened? “GBA_GF, WHY ARE YOU WALKING?” AndT and I connected again.

I said, “Oh good, I was waiting for you.” We left SpeeDee, and I thought, I’m with Tnow, I’m invincible.

MCM found me on the course at the junk food stop. I wasgoing to refill my hand held. Uh, thatonly works if you haven’t lost the lid… so I tossed my hand held away. Along with my white Nike visor, which, wasthe enemy at that point. Not sure why Ithought that, but ~ what ev. Runners areweird.

T, to be honest, I don't remember feeling as strong as we
look right here.

T & I made the turn onto Main Street together.

Oh, and remember that time we made running a marathon lookeasy? Yeah, me too.

I gave T a salt pill, and she suddenly couldn’t hang. Hindsight: I should have walked with her then. But I didn’t know how long until my next dizzy spell, so I was afraid towalk when my head was OK. A bad decision that seemed sane in the moment.

I keptplugging forward until on Main Street at an intersection somewhere near thepastel houses, the Richmond Marathon course actually spun.

Like, a 360.

And so when it stopped spinning I was standing on the sideof the course with my hands on my knees. I stood up took two steps, staggered, and reached out as the course spunagain. My hand connected with somethingmetal, the rusty paint bit into my fingers, and I held on for dear life. I was on the sidewalk, holding a streetsign. When I lifted my head a cop in theintersection pointed at me. I waved himoff and gave him a thumbs up.

I was lying, but ~ runners are weird.

After a minute, I started walking again. And then jogging again. Connected with Karen. And then El. El gave me her drink & lots of advice.

I made the turn to Boulevard, and then, out of nowhere, WineNot Whine was with me. I don’t know howit happened or where she came from. She ~ shoot I’m all teary thinking back on it ~ she says, “I’m feeling a littlesuper hero formation here…”. And thenPants Guy joined us for a few steps (Thanks Pants Guy). So WnW and I made our way to the Party Zoneand my head spun again. I was so happyshe looked so strong and amazing as she ran off… and I thought – go get it WnW.

Then I saw H, and said, “hey, it’s not my day. Its going to take me a while to get therefrom here”. I kissed my kids, ate ½ abanana, a salt pill & took a bottle of water. Got some love from my BFF PAULIE! (thanks Paulie) Something made me glance backhere, and T had caught up. I waited, wedid a GU exchange and T and I, with our bottle of water in hand, set out tofinish this race.

“We’ve run this 100 times.” Stadium to the Arch. We sawCherine (thanks Cherine) and then Illusive at a water stop; (thanks Illusive,you were great). Into Bellevue, throughthe arch (Yeah, Blair, I saw the sign…and Coach Black, was that the Black Team’s sign tacked onto the bottom?) and Ilet T go… and I thought to myself, “She can still get it… I SO hope she can getit". - go get it T.

I turned my watch screen so it only showed "time of day." See, I had another spell that stopped me in mytracks and I thought, “Your race is over. You’re now in survival. Stoptrying to kill yourself and be smart.”

I walked a water stop keeping strictly to theshade, ate a stinger, and walked while I waited for the spinning to stop. I started running again at a slow jog with thehopes that I could catch Young Stephanie (who I could see in the distance). I thought, the sooner you finish, the sooneryou can go to bed.

My head ached. Mybody ached. I was sleepy. I could not imagine why I felt this way, butI thought, “It’s a marathon, it’s supposed to hurt.”

I saw The White Rabbit on Brook Rd… and when the whiterabbit took my hand and said, “com’on you’re running” I started running, andthen I ran until Lombardy, AKA, The Lombardy Wind Tunnel.

El, Young Stephane, (me in the back), and Karasmatic

I don’t know if I was walking or running when I heard myBiolaBud (I pretty much love you) with yet ANOTHER Stephanie on the course inviting meto join them. We picked up some randomrunners, and ran together past the Lululemon corner! (Cheers to you all, you really know howspectate runners). And then we caughtYoung Stephanie and gathered her into the fold, and I was determined we weregoing finish this together.

Chronologically things are a bit blurry. It was running punctuated by world spinning.

I looked down Grace and saw a pair of Viking horns. Ithought, “oh, I’ve really disappointed Q.” (hey, we’re honest here on the blog). I heard his voice all the way down the street,“I thought I’d missed someone!” He ranback to me and fell in beside me to run with me… “What happened?” Not accusatory, more... curiosity.

“Well. It wasn’t myday. I got dizzy, and walked through the dizzy parts… I think that added a lot time to my runtoday.”

He looked/sounded a bit shocked. “Well, I think it probably subtracted a lotof time from your hospital stay…” I laughed as he continued, “so yeah. If you run through dizziness they get toscrape you off the ground.”

We chatted a minute and he left me in the capable hands ofbeautiful Karasmatic! Young Stephanie, Karasmatic, El & Imade our way in SUPER HERO FORMATION down the street.

Southern Comfort joined us and I realized: Today wasn’t my day, but THIS was how it wasmeant to be.

I was running in with my posse, I was with 2 of myfavorite coaches. We were laughing about my disastrous marathon. We were laughing, and I can prove it. (Photo credit to Kty J)

And then what happened? I made peace with my day at mile 26. It wasn’t my day. But it was a great day for a run. And well, we all know how much I love my run.

I have a saying I came up with a few years ago…

“When something goes wrong in amarathon, it doesn't go wrong by 2 minutes. It goes wrong by 26+ minutes.”

Well I missed my goal by 26+ minutes.

10K 55:57	Half 1:56:48	20 mile split 3:09:57		Chip Time 4:26:19

10K 55:57

Half 1:56:48

20 mile split 3:09:57

Chip Time 4:26:19

At the finish, when I connected to H, my son G was laying onthe sidewalk “spectating”. He was asleepin a sunny patch. Turns out G was prettysick all day.

And late last night, afterthe race, I joined The Vom- Squad complete with fever, chills, & bodyaches. So there’s an explanation as towhy it wasn’t my day, or an excuse, however you want to look at it.

A few small words on RVA 11

2011-11-13T09:24:00.001-05:00

"It's all mental until you pass out. Then it's physical" ~author unknown~
Um.
That's the truest thing I can say about marathoning. Ever. Recap coming, I promise, but here are some high points from the weekend on film. (also, I ran into some formatting issues with Blogger - it doesn't want to play nice).

Neon Coaches with Q

The MTT pasta-thon was super fun.

Sprint Mint ... which fit into the Scooby Doo inspired
clothing choices.

Q was hazed by one of my favorites ("Nutty")
with the gift of a "new" pair of running shorts
constructed from the NEON flag.

post shake out run Pixies

Friday we met the Posse for bagels
Karasmatic, WnW & Kristi

Back Row - Southern Comfort, WnW, 3L, T, DeNiece, Pixie
Front Row - Kristi, Karasmatic, me, Cozy KC

At the pre-race bagel carb up we connected with pretty much the entire posse. On Saturday morning I saw every single one of these women on the course at some point. One in the corral before her EPIC BQ run, several on the course as we connected for a few miles here and there. I never imagined on Friday how much these women would mean to me on race day. I know... silly silly me. Marathoning brings out the very best in people... and these women are already beyond wonderful.

K.C., T & Pixie Green

wine-not-whine is GBA.

Birch is ... well, it was warm at the expo.

Me, Pixie & T

Then Pixie & I hit the expo with her friend Bob, and ran into some GBA friends at the expo, which was fun. Birch was volunteering at an information table with The Man & a few others.

Pam from Life Begins at 30 joined us!

And after that - we headed out of the city to have pasta with the Posse.

me & T's Doodle

oh, and I am married to
this guy.

the posse

We connected with quite a few bloggers,
Setting You Free's - Pixie Green
Life Began at 30 - Pam
Pace of Me - Jess
Racing with Babes - TMB
Long Legs on the Loose - Kayte

and we connected with quite a few locals

<--- 3L & me!

Earth Mama Mer --->

And then with a full tummy, Pixie and I went back to the hotel for a pillow fight... for sure that's what happens when two bloggers as HOTT as us share a hotel room, right?

There's a lot more to this weekend, and EVERY ONE of the women in the photos here had a galactic day, and so that, made it a GREAT day....

Some Final Marathon Thoughts

2011-11-12T04:36:00.000-05:00

There is no such thing as the wall.

Parcheesi is no longer in my vocabulary.

"It's all mental until you pass out. Then it's physical" ~author unknown~

My bib # is 2297.

g'inspiration

2011-11-11T08:14:00.000-05:00

No doubt a brain and some shoes are essential for marathon success, although if it comes down to a choice, pick the shoes. More people finish marathons with no brains than with no shoes.

Don Kardong

~savor the run~

A Marathon Takes Dedication

2011-11-10T06:00:00.000-05:00

A marathon takes dedication, hardwork, and dedication.

I said dedication twice, because it takes twice as muchdedication as hard work. If you don’tstick to the plan there’s not a lot that hard work can do….

But as I’ve said before, and I’ll say again, this is notthat kind of dedication.

I’m probably the luckiest runner in the world. I have a support system that is enviable, andI would be a fool if I thought I could get to the start line without the help of the people in my life.

“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Mile Marker 1 is dedicated to the man I love.

2 is for my parents. I'm under the impression that they think I’m a little nuts. But it would seem they still love me anyway, so that’s nice.

3 is for my 3 Klingons - B’nut, G & C…. My little nutkeeps me on my toes, my son inspires me to be ~epic~, and my C is a reminderthat fashion is above all other things… form follows function… function followsfashion.

4 is for 4 strong women. Pink Brooke & her Pink Running Wife. You two inspire me for reasons I cannot explain in 2 sentences. and for Ellie - savor every mile. and for Pam because she knows the meaning of being a good running friend.

Mile 5 is for the ones we lost this year. I think it's summed up pretty well on this sticker. ---->

Mile 6 is for, "And then what V?"

“Life always waits for some crisis to occur before revealing itself at its most brilliant.”
― Paulo Coelho, Eleven Minutes

"Lucky" #7 is for The Witch Dr's MAGIC THUMB.

Mile 8 is for Birch. Can I just say I'm so glad I was such a "jerk" that day you were working the SAG? Thanks for reminding me that it's hot in Texas, to Try Not to Suck, and that I know how to Run like SNOT.

9... nine, feeling fine... and that's probably because I trained for this marathon with an AMAZING Posse. This mile is dedicated to the YMCA Tuesday Morning Posse of Stephanies, Shannon, & so many others! And I appreciate them all, even when they're having a tough time. Miriam is one of my favorites & hot damn she is fast! believe in yourself, I do! Stephanie, Stephanie & Mustang: embrace the moment and have fun. Shannon, be a PR, be a PROUD RUNNER. Kathryn & Kristi - Run Well! Ga & Kathleen- you're only half crazy, but that's OK! You've all worked so hard! And NO ONE who consistently meets for a 5:15am run is any thing less than BADA**. You ladies ROCK!

10 is for Lion. It's just nice to know you're out there, quietly supporting and cheering. And know that I'm doing the same.... all awkward and ~junk~.

me & Coach Black

11 is for Coach Black - because if he'd never invited me, I never would have run with Those People, and it turns out that some of Those People are kinda cool. You People, have a great race!

“What is a teacher? I'll tell you: it isn't someone who teaches something, but someone who inspires the student to give of her best in order to discover what she already knows.” ― Paulo Coelho

Mile 12 is for Professor S. (first decide if this is you, or not you, so if n=2, p=.5....). On Saturday, "Try not to suck."

And Mile 13 is for Professor S. On Saturday "Savor every moment."

Mile 14 is for Rene' & Meredith. One of these days we're going to get to the same state and run together. It's just going to happen. Thanks to both of you for being there for me even when you're not... and Mer don't ever doubt it, it stretches from one side of the country to the other....you know what I'm saying.

15 is dedicated to NOT TACKLING THE RED SHIRTS! ...it's harder than it looks.

16 is the Lee Bridge.... and it's for SHANZ who was recently quoted as saying, "Don't place a limit on yourself and dont make excuses". Coz that's just how we bada$$ mother runners roll, true? (that post was more timely than you could possibly know, friend. thanks. And by the way my race plan includes making this bridge my b*tch.)

“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”
― Paulo Coelho

17 I can't see a VCU sign and not think of, Cozy KC. This mile is for you. I'm so glad we found each other.

Mile 18 is for The MAN and the coaches of MTT Pink, Purple, Teal, Red, Black, Yellow and Green.... you've inspired me with your wisdom, your wit, and your ability to discuss literature at 5:30am. Thank you. *And The MAN, the color is Sprint Mint, incase you need a bottle.......

Cozy, 3L, & GBA gf

19 is for 3L. imagine a runner at the back of a room.... sweet 3L, you are the next level. You inspire me to be great. and Gracious. And your wisdom stretches far beyond running. And thanks for being the kind of friend I can call for a Woodbridge pickup.

20 is for DeNiece & Ocean - you two are great neighbor runners. Run well today.

21 is for SpeeDee. Because she knows why. Today there is no such thing as the wall. VH.

illusive he's not

Mile 22 is for Illusive Dave... who's working on eluding his illusiveness these days, and I'm glad for that. Dave - BTW - is a freaking awesome wedding date, should you need one of those.

23 is for Karasmatic – because she gets Tequila inspired running, and because she has mad skillz on that road bike. Thanks for being so unexpectedly wonderful.

24 is for Pixie Green... I can't even find the words...

“The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.” ― Paulo Coelho

Take up running, it's fun!(even the cranky hot coach thinks so)

25 is for Q... or is that I.Q.? Or Vinnie? (~gag~). It's hard to say everything I'd like to say here. I think I will just go with "Thanks for not being the coach who pats me on the head and tells me what I want to hear... and at the same time, Thanks for being the coach who pushes me a little harder, a little farther, and a little smarter with every word you share with me.". And was that an STFU? Because it sure sounded like an STFU...

Mile 26 is for my running wife, T. "It's not Napping, it's Running". It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't, it wouldn't be worth doing. If I could sum it up in 12 words or less: "I know a GREAT place for running" & "Are you awake?". Because honestly there are either no words, or 1200.... but not a whole lot in between.

And the last .2 is for me, because once upon a time, I might have doubted I could run a mile.

So google purple hair, and the first link says something about "Fun Hair". And you all know how much I love fun. So in honor of my sense of fun, and my Scooby Doo inspired race outfit, I had T "fix" my hair. She's a genius. It's Freaking amazing.

My bib is #2297, my hair is purple, my outfit is epic... yes, I am ready. It's time to run.

galactically bada** = Always epic.

I have a fever... and the only prescription is more cowbell.

“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.”

― Paulo Coelho,

~Savor the Run~

a letter.....

2011-11-09T06:53:00.000-05:00

Jess says I need to write myself a letter..... she's pretty wise. She's probably right. My letters are freaktastic...

Ok. So what do I know about me... because that's usually how I start a letter. I think about what I know about the runner I'm writing for... and so knowing me, what would I tell me?

Dear Galactically BadA** gf,

“At every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss.”
― Paulo Coelho

Paulo is my favorite. Probably because he's pretty much a genius. And he rocks. And ~ yeah ~ he gets it.

GBA_gf.... You freaking rock. You rock like Paulo.

You'd rather epically fail trying for excellence than fully succeed at mediocrity. No. Problem. Mediocrity is so not your thing anyway.

And you KNOW that about you. So capitalize on that knowledge. Set the bar high and FREAKING reach for it.

It's time to do this like a NIKE ad.

...but still, it's always a plan to review a few key points... no time for a power point presentation here... We're just going to have to wing it.

Galactically Bada** is not just a catch phrase. It's a state of being.

You did not train for twenty weeks not to bring it on race day.

The only thing you have to fear, is fear itself... and chaffing.

Don't tackle the Red Shirts, chick them like you mean it.

Believe in yourself under all circumstances.

Run the race you've trained to run.

Make that bridge your bitch.

You do this cos it's hard.

Respect the distance.

This is your season.

Be in the moment.

Try not to suck.

Savor the run.

Always epic.

Cowbell.

regards,

gba gf

I am two women

2011-11-08T06:57:00.003-05:00

“I am two women: one wants to have all the joy, passion and adventure that life can give me. The other wants to be a slave to routine, to family life, to the things that can be planned and achieved. I'm a housewife and a prostitute, both of us living in the same body and doing battle with each other.”

― Paulo Coelho, Eleven Minutes

And I'm thinking, is there anything that I have ever read that comes close to summing up my life as a runner more than this? I really don't think so. No wonder I'm so exhausted when I fall into bed at night.

meddling kids

2011-11-07T07:10:00.000-05:00

In 1969 Hanna-Barbera premiered what would become one of my all time favorite TV shows, Scooby Doo.

I idolized the characters, loving how smart they were, and as a small child, was always impressed at how the BIG REVEAL went down at the conclusion of every show. And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for you meddling kids. My phases of adoration went through the series characters, from Scooby, of course, to Daphne because of her awesome clothing choices, and onto Velma because she was so super smart... I was never a fan of Fred and Shaggy until the live action film made in 2002.

running a marathon feels a lot like this...

Some of my favorite episodes still air once in a while on Boomarang and Cartoon Network, and it's funny (sick) how often I see the show and remember exactly what/how it ends. One thing that always got me was the color choices on the clothing for the characters. Those colors were....fab.

I always feel, when I'm out running, that I'm a bit like Velma. I mean, seriously, look at her.

And then, look at me.

Every year our clothing choice for MTT is made for us. We wear a matching Team Uniform. It's technical fabric, light weight, and printed with the Sports Backers Marathon Training Team logo on the front. 1200 of us run in these identical shirts so that the 100 coaches (give or take) who line the course on race day will recognize us and help us out as needed.

The shirts are always bright. The one year they chose a "normal" primary color (blue) apparently it was a ~fail~. Since then The Man has always selected ~~horrific~~ ~~wonderful~~ unique colors like:

Virginia Tech is better than the other one Orange - Listen, all I'm saying is that if you look at the orange, it's more Hokie than Hoo.

Sea Foam (or is that Sea Sick?) Green - an odd minty shade that definitely had a touch of sea-foam mixed with a bit of "under the weather" and a touch of SNOT.

It's all Sunshine and Daisies Here Yellow - Your'in good company with yellow (this was the color last year, it was great, I actually didn't hate it).

and this year,

CREST TOOTHPASTE GREEN... a color that isn't made in nature.

As soon as I saw it I thought... if Daphne ever raced a marathon, this would be her color choice.... but what would she wear with it....? Duh, purple. And then Velma would argue the merits of wearing Tall Socks, and Daphne would agree.... and the next thing you know, Daphne's race day marathon outfit would look exactly like mine.

Toothpaste & Berries.

I didn't like the way the top fit, so I altered it with a small gather in the bust.

The skirt is Lululemon - there's another story with that, but I'll tell you about it after the race.

The tall socks are Running Skirts "Run Love" compression socks, because let's face it.... I love socks almost as much as I love my run.

So there you go.

I am channeling Daphne from Scooby Doo.

well, either that, or I'm channeling the Mystery Machine.

...I really think it could go either way.

And seriously, no matter how you look at it, I should be visible in race day... which will make stalking me easier.

Or, if you're stalking online, it won't matter what I'm wearing.... my race # is 2297.

Nervousness & Marathoning

2011-11-05T05:30:00.000-04:00

So I guess... yeah, all my nervousness is totally gone.

I was UBER nervous on Tuesday/Wednesday... probably for a few reasons.

The main one being because a lot of people know my race goal,which means if I don’t achieve it, there will be a lot of people who are awareof my failure.

One reason I told some ofthese people is because I want support on the course, and I might need someoneto say, “Hey, you’re running XYZ/mile pace right now, but you need to berunning XZY MINUS 10 seconds/mile to reach your goal”.

My goal is pretty aggressive feeling, but then again, I’m a go big or go home kind of girl. Still, the chills I was getting last week at the thought of the goal, are just... not there anymore.

I’m also really FIT, and I should trust that my training hasgotten me fit enough to pull this off.

My 8K PR, which I ran on Oct 1 “projects out” to a MarathonRace Time that is 11 minutes FASTER than my goal. So why would I question my goal anyway?

My goal is realistic.

My goals ARE realistic.

My plan is solid.

A Letter to my Running Wife

2011-11-04T06:00:00.000-04:00

Dear T,

Once upon a time there was an overweight insecure mom with acrummy jogging stroller who wondered every single day how she was going to makeit till 5pm…

…and then what happened?

Well. I met you.

In the years that we’ve known each other we have traveled thousandsof miles by foot, flight and Beige Mini-van.

We’ve slept together.

We’ve contemplated Rooster-cide.

We've eaten cliff bars together all over the world.

We’ve honeymooned ona yacht (yeah, it doesn't suck to be us, True?).

We’ve met Bart Yasso.
We've run PR's.
We've run PU's.
We've run the last miles of each other's marathons.

We’ve hung out with my BFF Bart Yasso. (~ahem~ about that view)

We’ve eaten vegan donuts with some bada**/freaktastic runners in SF.

We've won races. Can I say that again.
We've FREAKING won races. yeah, I know, seriously? We rock.
And in all that you’ve shown me so much… too many things tocount.

My favorite lessons from you are:

When someone tells you that you can’t, you DO ITANYWAY. And if that someone has a redshirt, you DO IT BETTER THAN THEM. It’san ideal that I love to embrace.

When things seem tough in the moment, you remind me toREMEMBER THE BIG PICTURE. The bigpicture is bigger than Boston, Brooks or Lululemon… though, lulu…

You show us all to be PROUD of ourselves, and to REFLECT onthe accomplishments we have achieved. Socongrats again on that 5K WIN… I love that you called me that day.

You’ve shown me that it’s okay TO LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE, that you’ll never make someone else happy by living the way they want you to live, even if it means ignoring the people who scoff at how “crazy” we are. Getting up at 4:30 in the morning to meet your running wife on a dark street is worth it, every time.

I love that you LISTEN TO YOUR HEART – and believe that whatit tells you is possible.

So listen toyour heart now. Trust yourself as much as I trust you.

You are my running wife.

And if I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing,Red Shirts and all.

love you,

g.

Taper Island Day #10... and I'm not
even Jealous at all that T's out of
here in ~like~ 3 days...
b*tch.
OH, is this thing on?

g'inspiration

2011-11-02T06:16:00.000-04:00

Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.

Henry David Thoreau

~savor the run~

And that's how I know that B'nut is gifted

2011-11-01T08:12:00.000-04:00

Just so you all know, B'nut is probably gifted.

I'm not saying this just because she spells her name Bribget, and recognizes most of the letters of the alphabet.

"What else starts with H?"

"PUMPKIN!"

"or... Halloween?"

"Or Pumpkin."

But the main reason I believe she is gifted is because of the conversation I had with her the other day.

We were in the beige mini van driving to school.

Well, she was riding.

I was sadistically trying to run down the squirrel that refused to get out of the middle of the road. Seriously, suicide squirrel...

AND B'nut says, "Look mom, the Baby Girl Squirrel grew up to be a Mommy Squirrel."

And I said, "Yes B'nut. Baby Girl Squirrels grow up to be Mommy Squirrels."

AND THEN I quickly added,

"Baby girl squirrels can also grow up to be scientists squirrels, or Dr squirrels or the President of the United Squirrels of America...."

"Or runner squirrels?"

"Yes, B'nut. Or Runner Squirrels".

I love that Runner falls on the "scale" right up there with Md. and President.

Taper Island, Day 8

Taper Madness

2011-10-31T07:10:00.000-04:00

Instructions for the Tapering Marathoner: Print this letter, make a few copies of it and keep them with you at all times. Hand one to your spouse, your partner, your neighbor, the other mom at the bus stop, the guy who sits next to you in Biology Class, the person who makes your coffee at Starbucks,... anyone, really, who is unfortunate enough to come into contact with you over the next few weeks.

A letter to the support team

borrowed with permission from Q

As the support team for a Marathoner you are entering a very tricky period. Your Marathoner has been training hard through the summer and into the fall in preparation for the big day. The hard work is done and TAPER MADNESS is ahead.

Marathon training is a stair-step type process where muscles are broken down for several weeks and then an easier week is thrown in for recovery. Finally three weeks before the Marathon, one last long run is completed and it’s time for recovery. The last three weeks are a period of descending running mileage. This period allows the body to fully recover from the training and rest in preparation for the Big Day, this period is called the Taper.

This all sounds well and good, however, the Taper is a period of great anxiety for many Marathoners (first-timers and veterans alike). Over the course of training for a Marathon, an athlete becomes accustomed to running many miles each week and constantly feeling the rush of endorphin driven highs and the persistent fatigue and soreness of effort. The athlete becomes addicted to these emotions and craves both the highs and lows.

The Tapering Marathoner will be irritable, anxious, nervous, overly emotional, short-tempered, restless, tired, cranky, and depressed (even more than normal). Sounds like a great three weeks doesn’t it? It is not unlike the heroin addict going cold turkey. This is a span of time where most Marathoners go a bit crazy. For most it passes after Marathon day. Of course there are the post-marathon blues, but that’s the subject for another day.

The first week is not too bad. It’s really like most “easy weeks” following a twenty mile run. Recovery is critical and the mileage is not dropping by a large amount. They are so tired from the 50 mile week that the rest and recovery is welcomed. Do yourself a favor, block HYPERLINK "http://www.weather.com" www.weather.com and HYPERLINK "http://www.accuweather.com" www.accuweather.com from your internet service, unless you enjoy continuous updates of the weather forecast for 18 days in the future. Nerves may begin to fray but the best is yet to come – trust me!

During the first part of Taper Madness you will hear about every small ache and pain and how it may be a broken leg or torn ligament or some other traumatic injury. Every twinge becomes a reason to think about postponing the marathon effort. Every sneeze, sniffle, cough or pimple becomes a life-threatening virus or infection. Tight hammies, inflamed ITB, tweaked Achilles, plantar fascitis, black toenails, bloody nipples, chafing, and this is just during breakfast.

The second week starts the deep depression. The tapering Marathoner starts to really miss running. There are no more double-digit runs before the marathon. The longest run for the next two weeks will be 8 miles. Just 8 miles, how many used “just” and “8 miles” in the same sentence prior to training for the marathon. The body is really starting to recover and therefore has more energy than needed. Therefore, the Marathoner becomes restless. No “extra” running is allowed. The tapering Marathoner can feel the fitness draining out of their body. Ask them, they will tell you, they are getting slower every day! This is not happening but the feelings are real. Physiologically, there is nothing but positives from a 3 week taper prior to running a marathon, however, it feels quite the opposite. This restlessness often becomes frustration and a very short-tempered athlete. Understand that this frustration will be projected at anyone and everyone within reach. It’s nothing personal; it’s the lack of mileage talking.

So it’s now six or seven days before the Marathon. The last 8 mile run is done and all that’s left is 3 easy short runs and the BIG EVENT. For the first time Marathoner and some experienced folk, this week is nothing but self-doubt and worry. “I’ll never make it. My foot hurts. My nose is running. I’m not ready. My last 20 miler sucked, I’ll die out there. I’m getting fat and slow. My shoes are dead, my shoes are too small, my shoes are too big, My legs are different lengths, my head hurts, I have a splinter, I have a hang nail, I hate running.” These are some of the things going through the mind of a Marathoner in their last few days before the Marathon. Not to mention the nervous energy that is overflowing. Not to mention that there may be a couple of extra pounds after cutting back on the running for 3 weeks. Not to mention that the trips to the bathroom are increasing geometrically as the hydration dance starts in earnest. Many find concentrating on anything other than the upcoming race difficult. By the way, Marathoners in the final days before a race often make poor babysitters.

Two nights before the marathon are critical to the marathoner. This night is probably the last chance for a good nights sleep. The night before is typically restless and worrisome (what if the alarm doesn’t go off). A sleepless night preceding a marathon will not have a dramatic impact on chances for success. Adrenaline will offset missing that night’s sleep and get the Marathoner through the race. The morning of the marathon is all about getting some food, using the bathroom and getting to the race. My suggestion, don’t get in the way.

I am sure your marathoner appreciates all the support they have received during the training program. The last few weeks are critical to a successful marathon effort. Please understand that the emotional wreck will disappear after the marathon. The Taper can be especially difficult and frustrating for everyone. The good news, it ends with the race.

I hope this sheds some light on TAPER MADNESS. Sometimes insight makes things a bit easier to understand. Of course, your experience may differ greatly but I’ll bet it doesn’t.

Little (random) Things

2011-10-29T07:55:00.000-04:00

Newly added to the list of things I’m thankful for: a Statistics professor who puts up nasty looking formulas for finding z scores and standard deviation of the mean that look ~something~ like this:

AND then says:

“Of course, I’m just messing with you people. We only have to use this formula if there’s a Zombie Apocalypse and we have to use up all our batteries on flashlights…. Cos there’s a button on the calculator for this…”

Professor who shall remain Nameless until the semester is over, I heart you.

Well, I mean, I already liked her on day one when she gave us the suggestion, “If you want to get an A, just try not to suck”, and I thought – she so speaks my language.

Taper Island ... Day #6

SNL-MORE COW BELL!!

2011-10-28T06:30:00.001-04:00

It's FRIDAY and you know what that means?

Week 1 is nearly up, and I gotta tell you, it pains me to do it... but Jess's cute smiling self is being VOTED OFF TAPER ISLAND.

She's a doll. Go blow up her BLOG with well wishes as she heads off to DESTROY MCM.

Dear Jess,

Believe it. Trust it. Do it like a Nike Ad. ...and of course, try not to suck. and don't forget that at mile 22 T's words - "you didn't train all this time to not bring it on Race Day" are there for you. And finally, it's always a good idea to ask for it if you NEED MORE COWBELL. Happy racing.

To ALL the MCM's out running 26.2 this weekend... Bring it!

Taper Island... the first of the

vote "offs", and I'm not even

jealous. well maybe a little...

~so~ freaking highschool

2011-10-27T10:28:00.000-04:00

So I grew up. And ended up back in highschool.

Well that's what it feels like.

Here's why.

Here I am, 35 years old.

I love the insanity of juggling the 9002 social adventures at "school".

I love that one of "The Varsity Boys" gave me a nickname.

I ~like~ totally admit, I have a crush on The Bad Boy.

And...

I am still surrounded by ~those girls~.

Yeah. They're a plague.

A nasty little virus.

They're constantly mutating. like the bat pig flu, right T?

See, there was this girl in my "click" who was always talking trash about me. It freaking pissed me off, and yet, she continued.

Day after day, she told me I'm too slow, I'm too fat, I will never be a good student, I am unworthy, and I set lofty unattainable goals that shouldn't even be attempted.

She was always nice to me in public though. The more people around, the more *fabulous* I was in her eyes. God, I hated her.

And I can't tell you how many times I would look around at all my friends and be like, Man-o, if she EVER talked to my friends the way she talks to me, I would KICK.HER.ASS.

'nuff said.

I DON'T SUCK, and the reason I don't suck is because as of late August, I stopped saying I did. See. I'm not ROCKSTAR at EVERYTHING I do. I don't deserve or desire a pedestal. But, I don't suck.

And I'm not taking it from anyone, anymore. Not her, or anyone else.

AND THAT my friends is why I have stopped trashing myself.

Yeah. I was THAT GIRL.

My inner voice was the girl I hated. She was so very negative... and I kicked her a** to the curb. I still have days where I forget. I have days where I slip. But for the most part, I have stopped allowing my inner demon to beat up my inner self.

I am beautiful.
I am smart.
I am funny - of that I was never in doubt.
I don't have to pretend to be awesome for anyone, I AM AWESOME.
And I can FREAKING RUN. Like you wouldn't believe.

You know, sometimes, I'm the most insightful person I know.
And sometimes, I'm not.

But either way, I like me.

Taper Island... Day #4... and no, I'm not

over analyzing ever single aspect of my

life or anything, I have no idea what

you people are talking about ...

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

2011-10-26T07:30:00.000-04:00

Taper Island: Day 3

Maybe this should read, Struck Speechless Wednesday...

you remember *this* photo from my 20 mile recap? ---->

This photo of Karasmatic, Biola Bud, Me, Random Guy, T & DeNiece's sleeve and knee was taken at around mile 5...

Yeah. The Illusive Dave is missing these days.
He's been elusive.
A.W.O.L.

We really miss Illusive.

He's having trouble eluding his own illusiveness.

And this showed up on my FB Wall.

and I have to think that he misses us too.

Taper Island... day #3

Taper Island

2011-10-25T06:00:00.000-04:00

Imagine for a minute that your entire social circle is made up of runners.

Runners who love run like heroin addicts love H...

Add in that you're all training for a fall marathon or half marathon.

You see these runners every-freaking-where.

You see them ....

At Preschool.

In Micro Biology Class.

At Play Group.

On Facebook.

In your Neighborhood.

In Blog-land.

Some of these people are your closest friends. Some of these people are the ones that you rely on to keep you sane when you're crazy... only guess what?

You and your 12 or 15 marathoning friends/acquaintances/relatives/"random people you know" are all accustomed to running 50 - 60 miles a week....

Only now it's time to taper.

And you can't run.

And neither can they.

Let the madness begin.

We've arrived on Taper Island.

Taper Island Day 2

20 Miles Last

2011-10-24T07:30:00.000-04:00

Wow.

Just. Wow. What an amazing training cycle this hasbeen. Maybe I’m forgetting the toughtimes. Maybe I’m completely blocking outthe tough runs… but from where I sit now, I have had a really great trainingcycle.

Todays run was ~savor~.

The last 20 of the year. Packing for Taper Island… Can’twait. My body needs it. I need it.

Biola-Buds!

A smile connected me to my Biolabud and we lined up torun. A nod to Birch, a giggle withKarasmatic, some knuckle bumps and a few nerves zap through the crowd likeelectricity. 20 miles.

Through the city, up and back, picking up runners andfalling into a groove. PastMTTographer. A smile, a wave, light feetthat can’t be stopped by the teasing banter exchanged. The plan was executed. Pick up T, slow to start, pick it uplater. 20 miles.

We crossed the river, suspended by fog and draped in dew coated spider-webs. We ran in formation marching out single fileacross the bridge. Only the shoulders ofthe beautiful runners ahead of me were visible, their muscles bunching as wepowered up the sharp incline. Therhythmic huh-huh-huff as we climbed was vocal testimony to the work we wereperforming. We ascended up out of theriver valley.

A slice of negativity tumbled down a hill. It was quashed under our soles. No room to carry that today. 20 miles.

Aimless and aiming, we ran. 20 miles.

A yawning chasm, the James River again, the golden landscape stretched before us. Powerup, it’s time to run. 20 miles.

Onto Main, my focus slips. I feel the uncertainty tanglearound my feet, tripping me like an uneven brick sidewalk. The voice of reasonspeaks in my ear, to “pull me out of aditch if I should ever  fall into one” reminding me. I am Strong. 1.4 miles. It’s short. Last year I threw away my uber goal on that1.4 mile stretch of pastel lined road. This year, those bricks don’t stand a chance. “Ilearned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently inthe direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he hasimagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." 20 miles.

Race pace at the Boulevard, up, up, we climb toward ourdestination. We don’t suck, crossingBroad, in a groove. In tandem, asalways. Finishing. 20 miles.

Today was not about the glory of the 20.

It was about making it good. Making it count. Making it last.

~Savor the run~

20 Mile Prep Talk

2011-10-21T07:00:00.000-04:00

I don't need therapy...
it's just duct tape...
wrapped around a running shoe...
what?

As my H prepares to take ALL.3.Kids camping this weekend(without me – cue the music), I’m prepping for my last 20 of this trainingcycle. There’s a little part of methat’s skipping about doing a happy dance in anticipation of no more long runsbefore Richmond. That's right. I'm packing my bags for Taper Island!

and...

There’s a little part of me that’s thinking it might be timeto get the prescriptions filled because I don’t know if anyone here rememberswhat the Taper was like last year, but it was ~ah~ entertaining?... Maybe entertaining’s NOT the word. I did produce some really weird (and pointless) art last yearduring the Taper-Tantrum…

So it’s my last 20.

So, a jug, a triangle and a roll of
tape walk into a bar...

It’s the first 20 for some runners this weekend. I met two the other night, and I rememberwalking away from them thinking, “Oh, wait, they have their first 20 thisweekend…I should say…” and then, like an ADHD 8 year old I immediately lost mytrain of thought. It's not my fault, there were 2891 peoplevying for my attention.

Ok. 2. There were 2 people…

I think though, that what is so exciting about this weekend’s 20miler is that I know something that the novice runners don’t realize. There’s NOTHING like laying down a 20 milerun. No matter how (well) or (not well)it goes.

Don't Panic!

If it’s EPIC, you can come off euphoric with the knowledgethat you are a FREAKING RUNNING MACHINE and you are going to CRUSH the RichmondMarathon.

If it’s an EPIC FAIL, you can come off the run with theknowledge that on race day there’s going to be THOUSANDS of people lining thestreets of RVA ready to cheer for you and you are going to CRUSH the Richmond Marathon.

It’s funny, at the end of my first 20, which was, um… yeah…I remember thinking “huh. It’s soanticlimactic.” We were an hour or solater than we should have been. We weredehydrated as we slogged back down the street to TMB’s house to finish therun. But we'd RUN 20 MILES, and there was nothing waiting forme except a ride home in a sucky beige minivan.

On race day, it will feel NOTHING like a 20 miler. I assure you.

I’m not sugar coating it, it’s still going to be hard, but seriouslypeople, no one signs up to run a marathon with the idea that it’s going to beeasy. AND if they do, they’re sadlyliving in The State of Denial. Heckfireandshoot – they’re probably the Governator of that State….

But ON the day of The Show. When you come out to RUN LIKE SNOT (or to be COOL LIKE SNOW) (or to TRYNOT TO SUCK) (or to COWBOY UP)… or to just hunt down and chick every Red Shirt you see… it won’t be anything likethat 20 miles to nowhere.

It will be so much better.

~savor the run~

Print Worthy Insanity

2011-10-18T08:00:00.000-04:00

Insane In The Membrane went to press last month, but I'm a slacker and I didn't share it. Since I have ZERO time to blog with all the homework and training I'm doing, I'm using it as a fall back Blog Post.

Here's the Text Only version... Above is the link to Miles & Minutes where it actually published. And actually, technically I should probably cite this now, since it's owned by them...

Insane in the Membrane
by gba_gf (ok, in the M/M version they use my "real name", but it's dull compared to galactically bada** girlfriend)

Right before his deployment to Iraq, my brother cornered meat a family gathering. “You’re not goingto become one of those ‘crazy running junkies’, are you?”

As my mouth and brain worked to form an intelligent responseto the unexpected question, the non-runner in my life chimed in with, “toolate… already insane.”

Me? I’m not crazy,and insane certainly seems a bit strong. Passionate about the hobby I enjoy? Sure. Dedicated to the trainingplans that I tackle with single-minded determination? Absolutely. Am I addicted, as the word “junkie”implies? I am not sure that’s a fairassessment.

I run almost every day, so it is possible that thenon-runner was referencing the Albert Einstein quote, “Insanity: doing the samething over and over again and expecting different results”. Then again, maybe not. Non-runner loves throwing unrelated wordstogether all the time. Like cheese andcrackers. Peanut butter and jelly. Crazy and running.

Regardless, in response to the non-runner, I see my runningefforts as something slightly more refined than insane. I approach my running with sense and reason,using cool-headed logic and a detailed agenda that helps me reach my goals. At least, that’s how I like to think Iapproach it.

I am not a running junkie. I am not an addict. I am able tostop at any time, but I choose not to.

Besides, there are plenty of people out there who are farmore zealous about running than I am. Justbecause I haven’t found many is inconsequential. I truly have not looked that hard.

Like many runners, I am interested in the mechanics andmental aspects of the sport. I thinkabout both things frequently. Sometimesthat thinking leads to reading, which builds up to research. Plenty of people spend hours each day readingand researching about their hobbies.

Who even notices if I log into a forum to catch a few linesabout running while the pasta is boiling? The box clearly states I have 8 – 11 minutes to spare. If I happen to peruse an article defendingthe running skirt, written by a favorite author, as I’m getting ready to platedinner? Well, honestly, the kidscomplain all the time that the food is too hot to eat right out of the oven, soletting it cool for a few minutes while I read is actually a service to myfamily.

Admittedly, I sometimes catch myself gettingdistracted. Once in a while this resultsin over cooked noodles or blackened grilled cheese. This usually only happens when I study mytraining log, but it’s not like I am over thinking every conceivable aspect ofmy run. I am simply reflecting on thevaluable information it contains.

Details like splits, training plans, form, cadence, routes,hills and number of miles run each week are carefully cataloged in a database,just waiting to be analyzed from every possible angle.

The non-runner in my life loathes the time I spendgenerating reports nearly as much as he resents the time I spend collecting thedata. Recently I have considered thepossibility that my coach dreads my lengthy e-mails about splits, trainingplans, form, cadence, routes, hills and miles run; though he has never actuallysaid so in as many words.

I guess I can see how a mild case of Obsessive CompulsiveDisorder might be a bad combination with a detailed training journal.

Sort of like combining a Jack Russell Terrier and a 6-footsliding glass door that over-looks a bird feeder occupied by squirrels. The obsession becomes toxic pretty fast. For the squirrels, the JRT, and the slidingglass door.

Maybe I’m not making a great case for my sanity here.

I still argue that I am not an addict. I am not junkie. I am just like any other runner. There’s a small part of me that wonders: Is that a little like how everyone thinksthey’re a good driver, but that’s just not possible? Or, how everyone thinks they have a goodsense of humor, but that’s just not true?

As for my brother, he has returned safe from overseas. He was bored on the base though. Apparently there was not a tremendous amountof entertainment after hours, so he took up running. He learned how to do track repeats and temporuns, and even completed a few 5K’s, a 10K and a 15K in his time abroad.

He has also recently remarked on how much easier it would beto record accurate data in his training log if he had a Garmin.

Don’t worry though, he’s assured me, he’s not a runningjunkie either.

~savor the run~

Tequila Inspired Running

2011-10-16T21:19:00.000-04:00

I so rarely drink.

But when I do, it's a GO BIG or GO HOME kind of moment... so on Saturday night we went out and I ordered a margarita with my fajita dinner.

Approximately what I ordered:

approximately what was delivered to my table... (only I always drink mine on the rocks)

Right. "It's ONLY 12 MILES TOMORROW".

Aka. Famous. Last. Words.

FYI Fajitas for pre-run meal weren't that bad. Chicken, some veggies and some wraps. No harm. Not ~like~ epic nutrition, but not a Run-tastrophe of the Cheeseburger and Fries variety.

Anyway, today's run went a bit like this....

is it just me, or does this photo
make me look boob-a-licious?

The Posse & I started with the group we call SNOT.

I watched SNOT pull away like I was barely running.

I was now the last runner on the MTT route.

Alone. For perspective....
Here --->

This is me on my group run this morning.

MTTographer snagged a photo of me bringing up the rear. To be perfectly honest with you, I'm running an 8:45 here in "last place".

So. What now?

Well, I have the best friends in the world.

Karasmatic pretty much ROCKS. She was coaching from the bike today, as she's still recovering... ahem... from her marathon... ah... In all seriousness, it doesn't really matter why she was on the bike. The truth was, I was SO freaking glad she was coaching from the bike today I could have cried. We hung together for 8 miles of my 12 miler....

And then, around the time that Karasmatic was getting so cold she could hardly stand herself, I looked up to see a familiar set of quads in a white skirt running toward me...

T joined me for the last 5 or so miles. We got off course because I failed to pick up the route directions that I carefully printed last night.

or this morning. However you want to look at it.

See above note about tequila.

So we just ran around the city until I had all my miles wrapped up. Then T & I hit coffee with Birch, Karasmatic, KC and DeNiece so we could group stalk the runners out KICKING A** at Detroit today. (congrats again to the MTTr's who CRUSHED Detroit... Detroit didn't even know what hit it).

Oh, and I would be remiss if I didn't give Birch a little shout out for his excellent sportsmanship in his loss of the Plank Off this morning... KC is a bit like a ringer though. She.never.loses.

"GU...as in G-U"

2011-10-15T11:47:00.000-04:00

They encourage us to make leaps at Nursing school. To think harder. Be smarter about where we take our minds eachday.

Every time I verbalize my thoughts or write apost on nutrition, I get more questions than I answer. It’s interesting, and at the same timeworrisome.

There are 2 million resources out there for people who wantto eat healthy. There are 2 millionresources out there for people who want to run. There are at least 3 sources of quality material for the runner whowants to eat healthy. I canonly say 3 because most of what I’ve read has either beentoo vague to be helpful (brown rice is better than white) or too detailed to beunderstandable (ATP & mitochondria… anyone?).

For a while there I just wanted someone to tell me theanswer to: WHERE DO I START?” Where is the book written for the “5’2” momof 3 kids who runs 30-40 miles a week, spins once a week, and wants to loseweight without losing performance or going insane from lack of calories, oh andis Turkey Hill Natural Chocolate Ice cream on that diet because if it’s not Idon’t want it”?

Never found that book.

This is a subject thatrunners talk about ALL the time. I read it on e-mail, in blogs, on Facebook, and even hear it in person … and overhear it on the run… “Iuse GU… as in G-U.” (overheard, on therun, and yes, TMB and I had tears of mirth rolling down our faces in themoment)

Hell, for that matter, I SAY it once a week. “Carp. It’s another long run tomorrow. What nutrition strategy am I going to try this week to see if it’s yetanother TOTAL FAIL?”

I’ve had nutrition issues, GI FUNK, yada yada, and been downsome dark roads on my nutrition path… and the thing is, as I’m wondering WHY thisis a mystery, I’m also noticing that many of the questions/concerns/GI issueswith ‘sports nutrition products’ are coming from women like me.

Who am I?

Well I cantell you who I’m not.

I’m not a man.

I’m not a 2000 calorie consuming “average” person referencedon everything from the side of your Orange Juice carton to the side of yourFrosted Flakes box to The Food Pyramid….

…To the side of the GU box…

Wait just a darned minute here.

Am I obtuse? Why hasit taken me so long to see this for what it is? The G.U. guidelines, Eat one packet about 15 minutes before your workout. Then take a packet every 35-35 minutes during activity to sustain your energy followed by a few mouthfuls of water or hydration drink are written for the "average athlete right?" Should we then assume that is the same as the average 2000 calorie/day person? I caneat almost 2000 calories a day when I’m running 50 miles per week, and 7 – 9 ofthose miles are intervals, and I’m cross training on my 6^th day, andI walk the dogs on my rest day… in other words, for 49 weeks of my year, I eatsubstantially less calories than 2000 per day.

The leap I recently made was, “No wonder a whole GU destroysmy stomach. It’s too much sugar forsomeone my size”.

The 18 miler this season I had SEVERE stomach pain at mile15 – I thought it was dehydration cramping (it was), but there was somethingelse there too.

The first 20 miler I had SEVERE stomach pain at mile 15 –only, I wasn’t dehydrated. The pain ison the fundus of the stomach, very high up, at the base of the sternum. I was burping like I’d consumed a beer… a kegof beer…. TMB said something though, off the cuff that made me stop in mytracks, as I thought “wait, this is likethe indigestion when I had that hernia on my stomach… oh. Snap. I used to describe that pain as a knife fromthe inside…”

So on my last 20 milerun… what if I treat myself for indigestion?

And that’s what I did. More details than you EVER wanted or needed.

I ate a ½ a plain bagel with ½ a banana and 1 Tbl of peanutbutter spread on it (about 250 calories). I consumed about 24 oz of liquid over 1.5 hours before the run (stoppingabout 20 minutes before the run started). And in the 1.5 hours, I took 1 salt pill because it was warm-ish and 4TUMS.

I carried 15 Honey Stingers (that's 1 1/2 packages) with me, and averaged around 5stingers per hour. I took 2 at 1 hour ofrunning, and 1 every 15 minutes after. At 2 hours into my run I took 2, and went back to the 1 every 15minutes. And I fueled right up until theend of my run. So, I took 1 stinger at 3hours, even though I was at mile 19 of a 20. I finished the run with a few stingers left in the baggie.

So there you go.

NoVOM SQUAD. No POTTY PATROL. No DRY HEAVING. No KNIFE in my STOMACH (the chicken had a shiv).

So there you go. That is my 1200 wordover share of how I’m fueling my run on the next 20 and on race day.

some fine print

***I am not a nutritionexpert. I am a student. I have no license in anything. I talk a lot. I read a lot. I think a lot –which drives a lot of people crazy. Ihave been conducting an experiment of ONE on this subject for a few long runsnow, and so far consuming ½ of the recommended GU (or Accel Gel, Chomps, Bloks)serving has been successful for me. Iwill be conducting further experiments, and encourage you to do the same andshare your success or failure with me if you’re so inspired.***

Taper -Island- in the Sun

2011-10-14T05:15:00.000-04:00

On this week's episode of Taper Island, we have many MTT'ers.... Yes, many of the coaches & runners I love and adore and crush on are wrapping up their time here.

They've been going ~crAzy~, and we've all been pretending that they're not INsane in the MEMBRANE... but to be honest, all y'all need to GET OUT OF HERE!

On Saturday a runner I love and a runner I've run with and a runner I crush on and a runner I've slept with and a runner I plan to sleep with... um... are on their way to Baltimore MD to kick some Galactic Bada**. These ladies mean so much to me....

For example, I never know when ShyA is actually going speak to me, but when she does, those words are often uplifting... as long as she's not making fun of my Old School Music choices... and my beige minivan. Dear

Shy A, I ran with youlast week, and what I saw is a phenomenally prepared runner. You looked STRONG. It’s time to come out and do some OLD SCHOOLrunning here. Channel that beautifulrelaxed runner I saw last Thursday, and just go for it. You’re ready to blow the top off of thisthing.

  "Capture the moment... OLD SCHOOL STYLE".

PinkJ is so tremendously giving that she gave up part of her morning to support my freaktastic 20 miler this past weekend. I freaking KNOW. She rocks/  She just needs to embrace this run in Baltimore. PinkJ, On Saturday, it's your day to "seize everything you ever wanted...". You've been here before. You are well trained. You have a plan. Execute the plan.

And SpeeDee ~ there aren't even words to describe her. She sacrifices so much for so many others. I sometimes want to shake her and say, BE SELFISH TODAY. But even if I did that, she would not. She just wouldn't. Cos that's how she rolls... Dear SpeeDee, I love you. You know what you mean to me. You're always there for me, with a smile or with tears, in support or in action, you are the epitome of RUN LOVE. I wish I could go with you tomorrow. I wish I could be there with you. I want you to just go get what YOU want out of Baltimore. Do YOUR thing. Be in YOUR moment.... you might have 99 problems... but.... Baltimore is your b*tch, so...

Lion and I have some history. ~huh~ you could read that a lot of ways... Dear Lion, I believe in you. You just need to relax and run the race you've trained for... and you KNOW what I'm saying. Some days are EPIC. Somedays are SURVIVOR. But I think somedays are to be SAVORED. And finally, some days are LESSONS to bring with you to TOMORROW's freaktastic. Lion, let me also say this... you're the BEST Anacostia Running Partner ever, and, to be clear, I'd choose you again in a hot minute... because I like you just the way you are... oh, I just.... Seriously though, Galactically BadA**. 'nuff said.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably know that Q is my coach and I think he's.... I mean, he gets overheated here in VA on a regular basis. Cos it's hot here is all. Dear I.Q... I think we covered it all yesterday... but just in case: "Run like snot". "Try not to suck". "Don't eat the yellow snow...". wait... that's, whoops, sorry, not sure where that came from... "Be cool like snow, and untouchable like yellow snow".

Pixie Green is running Baltimore ~~Half Marathon~~ 13.1 mile race this weekend. Dear PG, Tomorrow you need to run your own race. You have to follow your own plan. Listen to your heart. Not to the inner voice that doubts you, but TO YOUR HEART. What does it tell you? It tells you the truth. Deep down inside you are thinking you can run this thing in (UBER GOAL):00, and you know what... you're right. Believe that my friend, TRUST the training, TRUST yourself, TRUST your running-mate. I have so much more that I can't say here. Hopefully you "heard" it all.

And a little note to Mer - you go girlfriend. Relax and just be, "and do better" (wink).

~~And lastly,~~ ~~TMB~~ ~~is out running a last tune up Half 13.1 mile race this weekend in RI~~~~. Hey T,~~ ~~Have fun, look sexy, be smart.~~   Because sometimes life just gets in the way.... I think T's very brief dedication is going to be benched....

may the force be with you, and all the other runners out testing their limits this weekend!

Neurosis of the Stay at Home Marathoner of 3 (Kids)

*cough cough*

DeadLines

An Open Letter to Depression

ath backwards

Smokin'

Big Boy Shoes

A Fifth

Tomorrow I slog

DRESS CODE VIOLATION

Challenge - REAL WOMEN

the torture below

Gear CHECK - Slogging

One Mile

Personal Ad VS The Resume

What flavor?

Slogging

aka Hot Doctors make everything more Fun even the bad stuff

Chocolate Neuroma

Hey Mr. Fat Man

F.O.S.

Uniform Rules

Experimental Design

Run the plan, keep it simple.

a.k.a. 28 days later...

a.k.a. we hope for the best and run the plan....

Christmas Newsletter Fail

An Open Letter to my 10K PR

and that's what happens when you sell one of your offspring on eBay to the highest bidder

OBX running

21 Random Facts: GBA_gf

ThanksGIVING "SWEEPS" VOTE OFF

Short Cuts

Philly Edition of Taper Island

a.k.a. when it all goes to h*ll despite all the training

Photo Finish

And Then What Happened....

A few small words on RVA 11

Some Final Marathon Thoughts

g'inspiration

A Marathon Takes Dedication

a letter.....

I am two women

meddling kids

Nervousness & Marathoning

A Letter to my Running Wife

g'inspiration

And that's how I know that B'nut is gifted

Taper Madness

Little (random) Things

SNL-MORE COW BELL!!

~so~ freaking highschool

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

Taper Island

20 Miles Last

20 Mile Prep Talk

Print Worthy Insanity

Tequila Inspired Running

"GU...as in G-U"

Taper -Island- in the Sun

cough cough