Wizards First Rule

Every Runday my alarm goes off before the city is awake. I always lay in bed for about a minute and wonder if I should just sleep in. I can run later. I don't need to go get my ass kicked on a level 10 hill. I don't need to train this hard. I'm not really training for anything. Sleep is an important element of training.

And most Rundays, I tell the inner voice of sense and reason to STFU. I roll out of bed and go. I have run in sleet, rain, and bitterly cold conditions; I ran up hills that made me want to cry. 

But I ran.

On Rundays I run because I want to, no one is making me, except me.

I have nothing to prove, I'm not training for anything. I do this for fun, and because, even though they don't know me, I like running with Those People I Don't Know. 

Except there was a moment this week when I didn't like Those People. Recently, for the first time since joining Those People I Don't Know at Rogue, I had someone try to belittle my efforts.

Silly boy. Don't you know who I am? 
I'm charming...

The man in question reminded me of Draco Malfoy.  Essentially he represented everything that Harry Potter and Q and Coach Black are not. 

He was an arrogant snob. He acted though the fact I have not qualified for Boston made me less of a runner than him. Gosh, what would he have said if I'd admitted my marathon PR is a 4:09? He. might. have. died.

This attractive man sat beside me at a table with his back to me, talking pointedly to everyone except me. The deep frown etched into his face was only lifted when it was replaced by an unnatural smile for a camera. When he could not avoid speaking directly to me, he coated every word with disdain and thinly veiled sarcasm. At some point I realized he was judging me.  

Shortly after that I thought, "and he clearly thinks I'm not bright". How fascinating.

Additionally, he made it clear that as one of the "Dead Ass Last" crew, I was unworthy of his time and attention.

I confess:  There was a nanosecond where his low opinion of me hurt my feelings. I thought, If I was only (better, a BQ, skinnier, taller, nicer, prettier, more charming...) then he would (like me, respect me, acknowledge me, at least be civil to me).

And then I looked into his unhappy dead eyes and thought, I'm enough. His bad behavior shows far more about him and his lack of (grace, manners, happiness) than it does about me and my lack of (nothing). 

Isn't the first rule we teach our children in life is to treat others with respect? How did he miss that one growing up?

Because let's get real, if I was any smarter, better, nicer, or more charming, the world would not be able to handle it. As it is, I am intimidating as all hell.

Draco Malfoy may be an exceptionally gifted wizard who runs a blistering fast marathon and all that rot, but he's an unhappy small man who is missing out on the things life has to offer. My innate happiness must irritate the piss out of him. 

I laugh when I get high, and I get high when I run. I smile freely, and I am gracious to those in the Back to Last crew who come back for me when I am Dead Ass Last. I work hard to be better for my own personal satisfaction. I couldn't care less about Draco Malfoy's opinion of me.

I am enough.

~ Respect ~

WINE and CHOCOLATE and RUN. oh my

The Flowers my Run
got me for V'day

Yesterday I spent the morning with my Valentine. As I said before, my Run and I are in a deeply committed relationship. 

Its "The Year of the 5K", and I have made it a priority to get my speed back in 2015.  So in order to do that, I have to make goals.

The Long Term Goal – beat 23:25 22:59

Saturday’s Goals in no particular order:

Win.

Run Sub 8-minute miles.

Try Not To Suck.

Pretty simple, eh?

And beyond these things, anything else was just icing on the cake. And to be clear, there wasn’t cake, but the 5K was at New Kent Winery, so it didn’t matter.  There was WINE and CHOCOLATE and RUN.

Almost all of my favorite things together in one place.  ~pinch me~ 

So let me just start by saying what had’a happen’d wuz the weather was bitterly cold. But I thought it was just on the edge of my “skirt” vs “tights” line.  So I decided to wear a skirt for racing and change after. 

Maybe shoulda rethought that one, but s’ok. I survived. And the feeling slowly returned to my legs after a hot shower that drained the hot water heater...

Dash, Dot and I arrived to the race nice and early, parked, and headed up to the porta potty line, all the way commenting on how beautiful it is out there at New Kent Winery.

100% beautiful. And 100% cold. Freakishly cold. Way colder than I like. Way way colder than my lungs tolerate.  Back to that in a minute...

We checked our bags, ran about a mile warm up with a few strides thrown in, and since the race was scheduled to start at 9, I lined up on the start line at about 8:55.

An echo floated on the wind, "If you toe the line, you have to race."

 ~ Coach HP ~

And there I waited in the freezing cold. Standing still. Did I mention the cold? No? Ok. It was chilly.

That wasn’t a big deal though.  'Cos it was only for 5 minutes. Except that 15 minutes later I realized it was going to be a problem. 'Cos we were still waiting and my body was locking up. My lips could barely move. I was bouncing in place trying to keep warm but nothing was working.

My lungs questioned our sanity. I told them to STFU, my Run and I were on a date, Lungs would have to sit tight.

The race started at closer to 9:15, so I’d been standing still for 20 minutes in freezing temps with a wind chill of well below freezing. Wearing a skirt, ‘cos I’m legitimately stupid a Galactic Badass.

It was only a 5K though, and I knew it would be over soon.  

As usual, I didn’t wear a watch. Why bother? My race day strategy for the 5K distance is “Run on the edge of death, and when you want to die, push yourself just a little harder”.

I don’t know what my pace was at any given point, but at mile 1ish (the course was unmarked) I was running side by side with the 2^nd place female. At the turn into the golf course I dropped her and set my sights on the 1^st place female and she dropped me like one of Those People I Don’t Know on a Tuesday Morning.

I couldn’t catch her, so I entertained myself by chasing down the next available Male I spotted. I repeated my mantra in my head, "How bad do you want it?" as my body started to fatigue.

I finished on the uphill without looking too deeply at the clock.  I walked a few hundred yards past the smattering of volunteers with shaking legs while fighting to draw air in through my quickly narrowing wind pipe.

After I grabbed my checked bag and threw on all the clothing I’d brought, I headed back to the finish line just in time to see Dot then Dash cross the line. I grinned at Dash, “I hope you don’t mind if we hang out for a while... cos I’d like to stay for the awards ceremony...”.  I sounded like Hell; OH yeah, and at the wine tasting after the race, we ran into my Jr High boyfriend.  As in, the boy I "went out with" in 1990ish.

True. Freaking. Story.  

What are the odds? Well, apparently, when I'm involved, the odds are good that the world will continue grow smaller and smaller.

Back to the running. My personal best is still a minute out of range, but I’m making progress.

24:31 earned me Female Open Second Place.

7:53 avg. pace

I did not suck.

I failed at my goal of winning.

This is what failure looks like, if you want to know.

Failure looks like taking :45 seconds off my 5K time in two months.

Failure

Failure looks like an open bottle of wine at 10 a.m., a few beautiful roses, and many smiles. Failure can further be defined by the copious amounts of laughter and badassery that was exchanged across the span of a white tablecloth.  And by the frozen “My Banana is Hard” jokes. And by the hours that passed in the company of new friends as we grew increasingly breathless with laughter from the hilarity that ensued.

No one could have predicted that a 5K in New Kent would result in Jesus on a Log stories, the discovery of a really charming vineyard, and a deeper appreciation of why it’s important for women to surround themselves with a good support system.

our new friends - seriously, these
women define Galactic BadA**ery
without even trying.

I ended my day by having two pretty severe asthma flare-ups. I leaned on my support system for one, and relied on my own knowledge for the other. It will likely change my run strategy this week, but I’m hopeful that this was an acute event, not the beginning of anything else. 

This will be a “recovery”/”baby myself” week, but I'll be out there chasing the Back To Last crew as soon as my lungs allow.

Finally -

To the Race Director of the Vinterra Race for the Chocolate there's only a few things I would change about your race. The Race Tent needed heaters inside or a Fire Pit outside. There was no place to wait before the race that was warm.  The race should have started on time, or the runners should have been advised that it was 15 minutes behind schedule.  The course was great, exactly as advertised. I will definitely run this one next year.

The Year of The 5K : The Updated Stat Sheet.

Another 28 Days

It’s been a little more than a month since I first showed up to run and found myself running Dead A** Last behind The People I don’t know.

In these weeks I have come to realize that I still love running. Even when I hate it. 

And there are moments I hate it.  Mostly when I'm tasting iron on my breath or unsure about the route.

Despite the "hate", I look forward to it every week.  The cold and dark are miserable, yet I love to run with the rogue group that stampedes through the city every week.

I wasn't Dead Ass Last today.  Mmm Hmm. BOOM.

Yeah. I said it. I was 3rd or 4th from last!  Pretty sure that on a day like today that means I was kick ass.

But I struggle with bragging, because, I know that a good run today doesn’t necessarily mean a good run tomorrow, or the next day, and you never really know when your run is going to turn around and kick you in the face.

When I was bantering with Harry Potter about my successful runs of late, I was humble by his praise and in an attempt to be modest, I reminded him, “Well, it’s all relative to who shows up on any given week.”

You know what I like about Harry Potter as a coach? 
He doesn't let me do that whole "My efforts aren't really worthy..." nonsense that I get sucked into.  

He makes me realize that the reason I wasn’t dead ass last was a good reason.  

He pointed out that I'm getting faster.

28 days of consistently chasing Those People through the streets are paying off.

I am getting faster.

I’m looking forward to my 5K this week so I can see where I am in the hunt for a 5K PR.  I’m combing through the race calendar for March.  And April.

Even though it’s hard and lonely to run with the People I Don’t Know, I will keep showing up to run in the dark with Them.  I will strive to stay in the moment, and work as hard as I can, especially when I’m passed by Harry Potter and Those People.

And because I’m me... I will savor the run.  Even when it’s hard.

~savor~

Selfishness and Awesomeness

I flinched as the cold wind bit my cheeks. Water filled my eyes, and I blinked back tears that meant nothing.  With a temperature hovering in the mid twenties, and a wind chill in the high teens, it seemed the sun was completely ineffectual despite the brightness.  Never the less, we set out and laid down 5 miles on the icy pavement. They weren’t effortless, but they got done.

We were having a double date, My Run and I. It was nice to go out with another like-minded pair.

I’ve been exclusively dating My Run for a few weeks now.

It’s going well.  There’s no drama with My Run.  Ok, ok, I admit that there’s some drama: I’m borderline obsessed with My Run. Since we are old friends with a long history, it’s been relatively smooth to just step into a full blown relationship again.

Not that it’s without any tension. Mmm. There’s all kinds of chemistry here.

I’d mention our run together the other day as an example, except I don’t want to run and tell. Suffice it to say, afterwards I was sweaty and laughing, and My Run was very satisfied with the effort.

yeah, I work on the 6th Floor

I am reminded of something Professor Holton, a badass cyclist, often says about cycling, “It never gets easier, you just go faster.” That quote applies to My Run too. Not that speed is the ultimate measure of awesomeness. A hott figure is another measure. Or is that spelled hot?

So yesterday, as I climbed the stairs at work, I realized I was only doing it for my run. My run likes a strong a**. It’s kinda My Run’s obsession. That, and strong hips. And don't get me started on what I'm doing in an effort to get a more Run worthy core. Planks, handstands, etc.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m intentionally changing my habits for the benefit of my partner.

Further fueling my concerns, My Run and I are chasing our dreams together again, but we are doing it at the exclusion of others. I turned down a date the other day with a man, because I wanted to spend more time with My Run. Maybe it was also because he wasn’t someone who I wanted to spend time with, but still... I suspect my mother would have an opinion on that.

Handstand
Difficulty Level:
Puppy

This intimacy, this commitment, this everything... well, it rocks on so many levels I can’t even begin to explain it. It is deeply satisfying to be monogamous with My Run when there is no real race on the horizon.

It’s selfish feeling, but in a healthy way.  

Except, here’s the question that haunts me:  Can selfishness be healthy? Is there a time where selfishness is the right choice, especially when it leads to awesomeness?

Do we, as a culture, place too much negativity on selfishness?

Or, am I just justifying my selfish behavior of late?

And My Run and I don’t have the answer to any of those questions.

We will just keep getting up in the morning and going out together. We will take the stairs so my assets will be stronger. We will sacrifice our sleep. Sometimes we will join a group, and sometimes we will go it alone. Sometimes we will even rely on mechanical assistance to get us through our miles when we pound it out on a treadmill.

I’ll worry about the selfishness later.

~ savor the run ~ respect the distance ~

Things To Remember: There is NO Charge

Please tell me why the car is in the front yard and I’m sleeping with my clothes on...

It’s funny.  I remember when this song came on my iPod as I started the Rehoboth Marathon.  It was my last marathon for a while, but I didn’t know that.  I’ve trained for a few.  Got darned close to Shamrock in 2013 before that whole emergency breathing thing put a damper on all things running for a long a** time.

 I am my own worst enemy.

And here I am.

Sitting here listening to that same song from mile 1 as I type this.  It’s funny, it came on as the WORD program opened, and I thought, “It’s a sign....” and then I thought, “You can’t read too much into signs if you’re listening to the same play list...”

But I digress.

Every time I run a marathon I dedicate miles to the people in my life that I love, who love me.  Only, this time I am really struggling to write that dedication.  See, I knew exactly who all the miles would go to for this run.  And well...  

So yeah.

This marathon dedication will not be done for one person.  Nor will it be done mile by mile.

The headline goes to TMB, my wife of many years. 

And IronJoan, who has been in our harem for a while now. 

Of course, I can’t forget SpeeDee... oh where would I be without her? 

Pixie who flirts the miles away... 

Zickie Zickie who knows exactly when to make her entrance onto the scene.

My WonderTwin and Shanz who are just there for me, though I’ve not run with either lately. 

Bobbi, who is freaking FAR away but gets it.

Harry Potter who always sneaks in solid words that make sense to me. 

And then there’s Coach Black... ah, yes.  I have a full life.  Full of good people to coach, encourage, run with, be there with me.  I could keep listing to 100, but this isn’t an ultra...

Not to mention, some of the miles have to be for my kids.  My kids.  They are being groomed into AWESOMENESS by my friends, family, and, truthfully, by each other.  My daughter the runner and my son the tennis kid are watching NFL football, shouting out updates, as I type this.  “It’s pitiful!” they say, “oh Mom, those poor Texans”.  God I love those kids.  "They went 4 and out."

Recently they reminded me that this race needs to be about remembering “The Awesomeness”.

I had to chuckle at that.  

"Why?  Kids, this isn’t going to be about awesome, this is going to be about Not Sucking."

“NOOOOOOoooo, don’t you remember Mom? ‘There is no charge for awesomeness or attractiveness...’”

Oh. Apparently I forgot.  Thanks kids.  So this run is also going to be dedicated to remembering that there is NO CHARGE FOR AWESOMENESS.... OR ATTRACTIVENESS.

Yes, I’m blessed with a full life.  And I guess that’s all this run is about.   It’s about 26.2 miles dedicated to being blessed with AWESOMENESS and a full life.... and attractiveness doesn’t hurt.

~savor the run~