Maine: Wicked Good!

We have just returned from a trip to Maine.  Both my husband and I went to high school there (that's where we met), and we still have family there.  It had been two years since our last visit, so we were due for a trip.

The drive is hellacious.  It took us 19 hours going up - and we drove straight through.

However, once in Maine. . .It was heaven.  Maine in the summer is beautiful, especially early summer.  No black flies, low humidity, mild temperatures.  The only negative is that the lakes and ponds are still pretty cold - but that didn't deter the kids!

This visit was short.  We were there less than a week, and there is A LOT of family to see.  Luckily, my husbands family (which is huge), coordinated, and we were able to have a massive gathering at my husband's older sister's house one day.  My husband is one of ten siblings and 6 others are still in Maine, so we had a great turnout.
In addition, many (many, many) cousins are about the same age as our boys, so it was Cousin-Fest '14, and they had a blast.  In fact, seeing my boys with their cousins made the entire trip worthwhile.  It made us sad that we don't live closer to family - and that these visits are too few and far between.

For the first hour of the car ride home we found ourselves brainstorming ways we could move back to Maine and be closer to family. . .then, we talked about winter, and I am over that!  No way could I survive Maine winters again.

An added bonus for me, on this trip, is I fell back in love with running.  I have been struggling for a few months now to find my groove.  While in Maine, I was stretched way beyond my normal comfort zone - I don't like traveling, the drive was horrible, I was functioning on very little sleep, I was in large social gatherings - I was stressed!!!  I made it a point to run almost every day I was there - and with these sorts of views - I found my running mojo.  I looked forward to running.  I felt better after running.  Most importantly - I wanted to run.  I had missed that.

Before we left for Maine, I was not sure what my workout/running opportunities would be, so I registered for a Thursday night, 4-mile race in a nearby town.  That way, I knew I would have at least that opportunity to run, if nothing else.  I didn't wear my running watch, because I just wanted to relax, and enjoy running in a new place on a new route.

Someone near me during the race had a watch that beeped.  When my watch beeps, it means I have completed a mile.  So, I was shocked, after listening to her watch beep a couple times, when we approached the 1st mile marker!  By the time I hit the 2nd mile, I was seeing black spots and wanted to pass out.  What was wrong with me?  Was it because of elevation?  Environment?  Allergies?  I finished the race fairly strong and was SHOCKED to see that I ran in just under 35 minutes, for an 8:42 pace.  For the last several months, it has been an effort to run at a 9:20 pace.  Maybe I should move back to Maine?

In addition, my mother, found her protegee, I think.  She is a professional knitter, and has tried to teach me and my brothers with no success.  Well, my 8 year old picked it up immediately, and loves it.  My mother is thrilled.

The car ride home was just as hellacious, if not more so, than the ride up. . .For some unknown reason, the GPS re-routed us and I think we spent an extra hour on the road in Connecticut.  To compound the stress, my youngest gets carsick - at least this time, instead of redecorating the interior of the car, he managed to stick his head out the car window - on the interstate - at 65 mph.  To whoever was driving behind us - I am sorry.

Overall it was a great week.  We had a wonderful time with family and friends.  Hopefully, my running mojo stays with me, and hopefully it will be less than two years before we return. . .Maybe next time we can fly?

(The view from the top floor of my Mom's house.)

Dada, Daddy, Dad. . .

Recently, my youngest son has been on a campaign to upgrade our parental names from Mommy and Daddy to Mom and Dad.

If I say, "Daddy will take you when he gets home," my youngest will say, "You mean, 'Dad'."

This has been going on for a few months (because clearly, I don't catch on quickly - and it's hard to break a 10 year old habit).  When I asked why the name change, my youngest sincerely responded, "It's more grown-up."

Okay.  I get it.  Kind of.

As much as we are 3-5 years out from the Teen-Years, I know that the time is coming when our boys will call us much worse names, probably accompanied by an "I hate you" and possibly even some door slamming.

So, I guess for now, we will embrace the shortened, but still appropriate titles of Dad and Mom.

Because, really, no matter what they call us - we are still their parents.

On that note, my husband is a wonderful father.

Quite often I find myself thinking about how lucky our kids are to have him as a Dad.  They truly do not know how lucky they are, because my husband off sets my crazy enough that my kids might just have a shot at a normal upbringing.

Nothing seems to faze my husband.  He is truly one of the most laid-back men I have ever known - which again, is wonderful, because I am one of the most high strung people I know.
Yin and yang, people, yin and yang.  That's how we roll.

Our boys' deafening noise level?  My husband doesn't bat an eye.

The other night at the dinner table, without missing a beat, my husband says to our youngest, "Eat your dinner, not your boogers."  Then returned to our conversation, like the sentence he just uttered was a completely normal part of any conversation.  Mr. Laid Back.

I call my husband at work, practically in tears, because yet another part of our home/car/electronics has been destroyed by our children.  Often, my husband will respond with, "Yeah, sounds about right."

The other night, after reminding the boys for the, I don't know, 5000th time that we do NOT ride our scooters in the house - my husband comes in from outside, hops on one of said scooters and - rides around the house.  "I was just moving it from the back door to the front door," he clarified in response to my 5001 reminder about not riding the scooters in the house.

He makes us laugh, when we want to scream.  He calms us down when we get worked up.  He gives the best hugs in the entire the world.

This man.  This amazing, wonderful, hard-working, caring, loving man.  Happy "Dad's" Day.  We are ALL so, so lucky to have you in our lives.

Disconnect to Reconnect: Downhill @ Dawn

"I hate running."

This was a frequent thought of mine over the past several weeks.  I had not run a long distance (over 9 miles) since my half marathon in Raleigh in mid-April.  Particularly these past three weeks, with the weather so hot and school/work wrapping up, I had to force myself to even run 3 miles at a time.

In the past, I couldn't wait to run.  I would start thinking about it in the morning, and look forward to it - my release.  These past couple months, I dreaded my scheduled runs.  I only kept them up for the calorie burn, but there was absolutely no enjoyment.  In fact, I hated every second.

To be fair, I think a lot of it had to do with the temperatures.  My only opportunity to run was at noon - smack dab in the middle of the day, and it was terribly hot the past few weeks.  That didn't help.

My other theory was that my allergy meds were messing with me.  I am on up to three different medications - some two times a day, just to function.  But apparently, it was only just to function, because I couldn't run.  I was having trouble breathing, my legs felt like each one weighed 100 pounds.  I just didn't feel right.

This past weekend, I had a half marathon I had initially been really looking forward to - in the mountains.  For the past month though, I was dreading it.  I was running 1- 1 1/2 minutes per mile slower than my normal pace.  I didn't want to run.  I felt like crap.  In an effort to not die on the course, I quit my allergy meds three days before the race, hoping it would be out of my system.

Rock and a hard place.

No allergy meds, meant suffering with allergies - but yes, I actually felt better.  Luckily, as it was June, the worst of my allergy season was behind me, so I could manage without the meds, for the most part.

The race is called Downhill at Dawn.  It starts in Black Mountain, NC and ends in Old Fort, NC.  As it's at "Dawn", the race begins at 6:01am.

There were a lot of ladies from my local running group at this race, which made for a more fun environment.

I'm a very "glass is half empty" kind of gal.  So I went into the race with NO major goals or expectations - except to not die, and hopefully finish in less than 2 hours 30 minutes.

Because of my total lack of training for this race, I did NOT wear my Garmin.  I knew it would mess with my head to have that information - and I just wanted to run the race with no added pressure.  It felt like enough to just show up.

The first three miles were hard - both physically and mentally.  The race might have been called "Downhill" @ Dawn, but the first 5 miles or so were fairly hilly.  My legs did not feel like they each weighed 100 pounds though (no meds?), so that helped.  Also, the temps were much cooler so early in the morning, in the mountains.  Mentally, I was itching to know my pace.  About mile 3, I asked a lady in a blue shirt next to me what our pace was - and she told me a 10 minute mile.  Fine.  I was not going to break any records, but I felt good. So I figured I would just try and maintain that pace.

I kept blue shirt lady in my sights for the rest of the race.  I would pass her on the uphills, and she would pass me on the downhills.  We made a joke about it - "tagging" each other each time we went by.  At the end of the race, she came up and hugged me, and I got to thank her for being my marker on the course.  As we finished, she was just ahead of me, and they called out her name, and bib number:  106. . .I was 107.  Seems it was fitting that we motivated one another and finished as we did.

The race was absolutely gorgeous.  It reminded me of one of my other favorite scenic races (also in the mountains):  The Scream.  From mile 5-9 it was predominately downhill, rural, and very beautiful.  I used gravity to my advantage.   Miles 10-12 were difficult in that I just wanted to be done, but that is normal.  I still felt good.  Once at mile 12, we were heading into town - and I was actually pretty pumped up.

I did it.  I do not recommend not training and then racing, but it worked out for me this time.  Most importantly, I felt great about the run.  I felt like I had my body back, and it felt good to be out there, and it felt really, really good to disconnect.

After mile 3 I really enjoyed NOT having my watch.  I went with how my body felt, and that was the right thing for me at this time.

It was wonderful to disconnect - so I could reconnect with running.