Milestone No. ??? – First Haircut!

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Taking a break from my rant on humidity and heavy legs, this week marks two major milestones for E. Friday is E’s 1st birthday!!!! Can you believe it? I can’t. The time has absolutely flown by since we stepped off the plane in Oregon. Long gone is the 4-month-old we brought home.  Standing before me now is a toddler. A toddler who seems to be growing by leaps and bounds daily.

But this post isn’t about E’s approaching birthday. It’s about his hair. Specifically, the mullet he has been rocking here lately. E’s body isn’t the only thing growing like crazy. His hair (with the exception of the top of his head) has been growing like a weed. And while I was trying to put off E’s first haircut until the top of his head caught up, I caved when I realized he was starting to look a little red neck.

Now, E is a very busy little guy. He does not like sitting still for anything except food. So you can imagine how nervous I was about taking him to the barber shop and having him throw a complete fit because, heaven forbid, I needed him to sit still for 5 minutes. Thankfully, my friend came to the rescue. She runs her own shop out of her home and volunteered to take on the squirmy challenge of cutting E’s locks. So after we wiggled (and fussed) our way thru mass on Sunday, I dropped the Hubs off at home and ran E over to my friend’s house before the morning pre-nap meltdown hit.

e hc3We were a little confused about what was going on. I’m sure I would have been confused to if there was a woman standing behind me wielding a pair of scissors. Thankfully, Barber Smurf eventually distracted him.

e hc2You can see the wings E was beginning to grow. And his receding hairline. But don’t be fooled. I think he had more hair on the back of his head than I do.

e hc 1E was very amused by my friend. And she was awesome with keeping me him calm. E was cracking up the entire time – no tears!

e hc 4I need to work on my self-portrait skills. Or have someone else take my picture with E. As the one wielding the camera in the family, there are tons of pics of E and E with someone else. One of these days, E is going to look at his baby pictures and wonder where his mom was. Well here you go, kiddo. Maybe next time I will actually look up…..

And yes, I did change clothes after mass. While I do seem to wear only running clothes (ask my boss), I did not wear tempo shorts and a dry fit shirt to church. I do have some standards.

So milestone no. ??? is complete. E has a fresh “do” for his birthday – complete with layers. And mom survived watching her son’s curls fall to the floor (yes, I did keep some). On to figuring out how to make an Elmo birthday cake! This should be good…..

A Fireball, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and a Hot Dog

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I did something yesterday that I haven’t done since last September.  I cut my run short. Between 30 mph sustained winds, heat and humidity, I hit a wall at 4.5 miles and stopped. Literally.  Just threw on the brakes and that was that. The last time I stopped mid-run, I pulled up lame with a stress fracture and running another step wasn’t an option.

Running another step yesterday wasn’t an option either.

I’m chalking it up to the fact that I was running 7 hours later in the day than I am use to. The big ball of fire in the sky is way different from the cool, pale moon. I also think I needed more food and water in my system. Cars need fuel to go – so does the body. And yesterday, I think I simply ran out of fuel.

So this morning I got up with the mindset and determination that I was going to blast thru 6 miles and put yesterday’s bad run behind me. Unfortunately, the winds were still gusting, it was 75 degrees and 88% humidity.  At 4:30 in the morning. Yuck. This is what I have to look forward to for the next four months. My legs were heavy and sluggish yet again – but I kept pushing. Running with tired legs makes you stronger (or at least that’s what I keep telling myself). I can’t control the weather or running conditions. And we all know that race day weather is totally unpredictable. So I am taking what God gives me and running with it.

Aside from a crappy run, this weekend was also the Lovejoy “country” run. I laugh at this. Although Lovejoy is in the countryside, if you drive a half mile down the road, you are back in Allen. Home of the $65 million high school football stadium and roughly 85,000 residents. Not exactly country. Nonetheless, Lovejoy offered a very picturesque course for a 5k.

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Now to be clear – I did not run this race. After finishing up with our first group training run Saturday morning, I flew home, ran thru the shower and sped up to the race site to cheer on my friend who was running her first 5K. Here she is at mile 3  – and I must say, she looked much stronger than the majority of people making the turn at this point.

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Now, I wasn’t the only cheerleader out on the course. I was joined by a few of my training mates. We stood at the top of a hill and cheered the runners on as they made the final turn and sprinted towards the end. And I have to say – it was incredibly rewarding being on the other side of a race, getting to encourage runners and trying to make them smile when they were clearly suffering from the humidity and heat. Stan the Man and the Brit Birdie (have I mentioned she is actually Scottish??) were great cheerleaders.

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Finally, a race isn’t complete without a cartoon super hero and a hot dog. I saw these guys at the final turn. I’m pretty sure they were second guessing how smart it was to wear heavy costumes in May in Texas.

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As you can tell, it was a good Saturday morning. I got to witness my friend achieving a major goal, I cheered myself into a hoarse voice and I saw firsthand sheer joy on runners’ faces. This is what running is all about.

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

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It’s getting real.

Today – in about an hour actually – marks the beginning of my marathon training program. I will be coaching a group with varying target races ranging from Portland (ok, that’s probably just me) to the Chicago Marathon. While I am excited to get back into group runs on Saturday mornings, the fact that we are officially kicking off training sends waves of butterflies thru my gut.

It’s Go Time.

While I have been logging the miles and pushing my body to get accustomed to running at a pace that I previously thought was impossible for me, there was no real pressure driving me. It was – how fast can I go and for how far? I answered those questions with my two half marathons this spring. Going from my previous time of 1:55 to 1:42 and 1:43 is a pretty significant pace increase. And one I am quite proud of. The question now is – can I double the distance and still do that??

This week, the Boston Athletic Association announced that the 5,000 runners who were stopped on the course and unable to finish are invited back to next year’s marathon. I 100% commend Boston for this. These people deserve a chance of completing the Boston Marathon!  But….I can’t help but wonder how this will affect the qualifying times.  If you have a limited field and start off by adding 5,000 runners, it stands to reason that the qualifying times may tighten up a bit.  Whereas 3:40 would have qualified me for this year’s race, next year it very well could be 3:35 or, gasp!, 3:30. Unfortunately, I won’t know what the magic number is until probably August.

It’s always fun training for something when you don’t really know what the goal is……

So here’s my plan. Train insane. Meaning – don’t think about it. Don’t play the “What if?” game. Get up every morning and tackle that day’s workout with 110% effort (is it really possible to give more than 100%?). Stretch, ice and pray to prevent injury.

I’m going to put my head down, turn my feet loose, and when I look up, hopefully I will be standing in Hopkinton.

Momma’s Day

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I had full intentions of posting about Mother’s Day ON Mother’s Day. But come Sunday evening, I was in a stupor from all of the food I had consumed.  The Hubs and my dad absolutely out did themselves with smoked ribs, baked beans, potato casserole and homemade ice cream. I was powerless to do anything productive after inhaling 10,000 calories. Except sack out on the couch and rub my Buddha belly.

For several days leading up to Sunday I received emails, texts and FB messages from friends wishing me a happy first Mother’s Day and saying how excited they were for me to finally get to celebrate this holiday.  My friends have witnessed me practically curl up into the fetal position on Mother’s Day. A holiday designed to celebrate the most difficult profession ever served as a reminder to me that I was missing out on my heart’s greatest desire. Mother’s Day was like rubbing salt in an open wound. And I literally would go into hiding and count down the hours until the day was over with.

You can imagine how this Mother’s Day was the polar opposite of past Mother’s Days for me.

While I didn’t get breakfast in bed or taken out to brunch, I got the greatest gift I could ever receive. E called me “Momma.”  Better yet, he’s getting really close to saying “Mommy.” And every time he has said it to me, I have welled up with tears and broken into a smile so big that it hurts my face.  I have waited for so long to hear that word! And talk about perfect timing. (Ok, so he actually started saying it on Saturday. But I am cutting E a little slack since he doesn’t know the days of the week yet…).

Grant it, he now runs around the house yelling Momma, Mooomm-a, Ma-Ma!!!!And not because he wants me. It’s his latest word and he’s proud of it. It’s just cuter when he isn’t screaming it at the top of his lungs. (He also liked saying it – loudly – during mass. Repeatedly.)  But you know what? He can yell it as loud as he wants. I AM his Momma. Finally!

HAPPY MOMMA’S DAY from me and E!

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Stupid Is As Stupid Does

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I admit. I have a very low tolerance for idiots on the highway.

Take rush hour for example. The flow of traffic is moving, at best, 40 mph. Yet some young thing in front of me thinks she can get there faster by simply switching lanes non-stop and cutting off/almost taking out cars in the process. Yea – you aren’t getting there any faster than the rest of us, sweetie. Did I mention she was also putting on mascara AND talking on her phone?

Two days ago, I ran across a series of these people on my commute. Not the impatient idiots. These people were a different type of special.

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I don’t know about you, but I definitely think he could have fit a couple of more boxes on top of his van.

No need for that though. His buddy had the rest of their things.

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You can bet your last dollar that I did everything possible to not be the car directly behind these two guys.

After I passed Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, traffic came to a screeching halt. This is fairly typical for Dallas rush hour. Or actually any time of day. Traffic randomly stops for No. Apparent. Reason. Except this time there was a reason. Dallas has HOV (high occupancy vehicle) lanes.  These lanes are designed to encourage people to carpool so they can use the dedicated lane to escape traffic.  Disregard the fact that most cars using the lane have only one person in it.

Anyhoo, the HOV lane on the highway I commute on is separated from the other lanes by these rubber, bendable “sticks.” (Typical HOV lanes are separated by concrete dividers in order to prevent idiots from cutting in and out of them and causing wrecks.)  These rubber sticks tend to get broken off as people drive over them to get into the HOV lane illegally.  As we crawled along in traffic, I saw ahead of me a motorcycle pulled between the rubber sticks. Literally, he had about 6 inches of clearance on either side of him from the cars in the fast lane and the cars in the HOV lane. Hence, everyone had slowed to a crawl until they passed him.  So as I am slowly approaching, I see this poor guy sitting on his bike and immediately say a prayer for him. I mean – the guy’s bike is broken down and he is basically stuck, sandwiched between vehicles passing him. How scary and awful is that? Except as I go to scoot past him, I look over to see if he is ok. And he is.

Because he is sitting there TEXTING ON HIS PHONE. Really????

Now maybe he was texting a buddy for help. Or trying to look up a number for a tow truck. Then again, he could have been updating his status on Facebook – “Stuck in traffic, LOL!”  I don’t know. But I think if I was basically standing in the middle of a highway, I would be on my phone dialing 911 and asking for emergency help pronto.  Not sitting there typing away on my phone.

Maybe that’s just me. Idiot.

Curse You Bob!

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Talk about a tale of two different runs….

Yesterday was an off day for me.  Well, it wasn’t planned. But after yet another night of insomnia, I just couldn’t get myself out of bed to run.

Then the guilt hit. Which I am pretty sure was triggered by the peanut M&M’s and Skittles I chose for my healthy snack in the late afternoon. So after I got home from work, I quickly changed and loaded E up into the Bob before my brain could realize what my body was doing.

Off we went – in 80 degree weather. With a 50 25 pound wiggle worm in a rickshaw that weighs I don’t know how much. With very little food in me save the aforementioned healthy snacks. Yea, it was rough.

For someone who is used to running by the light of the moon and not the sun, the temperature change was a bit of a challenge.  Adding in the extra weight and altered running form made it even more tricky. I cursed at the RunKeeper lady when she called out my pace after 5 minutes.

I want to thank the nice neighbor who watched me run up a long hill with E. “Looks like your son is kicking your butt!” Thank you, Woman-Standing-Still-Doing-Nothing. I offered a grunt in response and increased my pace, trying to look like I wasn’t struggling as much as I was.

We made it a little over 3 miles at an 8:25 pace. And then I was done. I mean, done. I chugged my bottle of water and we walked a few blocks before heading home. Who would have ever thought that pushing a jogging stroller would be so difficult?

Then came this morning. 53 degrees. No wind. Clear sky. When I took off running, it was like I was flying. No Bob to push. No smart ass neighbor to annoy me. It was pure joy. Until the RunKeeper lady informed me that I was 10 seconds off pace. Seriously??? And then the voice of self-doubt began chirping in my ears – You really think you can BQ at Portland? It’s 5 months away…..

For a brief moment, my stomach began to churn with anxiety/nerves/whatever you want to call it.  What the hell was I thinking? 26.2 miles at an 8 minute pace?? Really? My heart began to pound in my chest and my breathing became more difficult to control.  I knew I needed to regain control of myself or my run was going to end short. Which would do nothing for my confidence.  Glancing up at the sky, I focused on the stars and said a little prayer. Please, God, help me to do this. Help me to realize my dream. And then, as if in response to my plea, a shooting star raced across the sky. No joke.  If that wasn’t cool enough, a second one followed.

Two shooting stars. A divine response? I don’t know. But I was so lost in the moment and focused on the sky that I blew thru the rest of my run and finished on pace. Not bad considering my mid-run, self-doubt attack.

5 months. I have 5 months to get myself ready for Portland. And while that sounds like an incredible amount of time, it really isn’t.  I have loads of work to get done before October rolls around. But I am ready to make the push. And I do believe the Bob may become my secret training weapon.  I see two-a-days in my future – my usual early morning runs coupled with pushing a toddler around the hood for a few miles after work. Let’s really give the neighbor something to comment about.

 

Missing: Spring

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Yesterday, it was 83.

Today, it’s 52 and falling. There’s even a freeze warning just to the west of us.

Has someone forgotten that it is May 2nd? AND TEXAS??????

Knowing that we were expecting a cold front to blast thru overnight, I had planned to get up and row this morning. But when the alarm went off at 4, it was 64 degrees outside with 85% humidity (meaning – no cold front yet). So I quickly hopped up, thru on my Nike tempos and a tee and headed out for a run. Surely – SURELY – I could beat out the front.

Wrong.

I made it one block before the wind changed direction and started gusting from the north.  The temperature dropped only a few degrees – which was awesome. But then the mist started. Not so awesome. And then the mist turned into a horizontal rain. That sucked. It sucked big time. But I gutted it out and sloshed my way thru 6 miles. I mean – I was already awake, wet and cold…so why not finish what I had started?

I KNOW in a few weeks when our overnight temperature doesn’t drop below 90 I will say, Remember that awesome day in May when it wasn’t 10,000 degrees???

But that day is not today. No, today I am royally irritated with Mother Nature’s fickle way. Winter is over, lady. Let’s move on.

So I am ignoring the fact that it is dreary out. Instead, I’m cranking up Buffett on my computer and daydreaming of a beach vacation full of rum drinks, sand between my toes and spectacular island sunsets.  Warmer weather awaits. Surely.

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