Tea Parties, Barbies, and Rainbows - Oh My!

Last week, I ran an 11 mile trail run, in the mountains.

It was the first race, in way too long, that I enjoyed.  Honestly, I was not sure I was ready for an 11 mile trail race.  I had run a 9 mile trail race in mid-January that was depressingly difficult and slow.  In fact, about 4 miles into that race, I was ready to be done.

This 11 mile trail race though - I don't know what was different.  It was early - I had to get up about 5am, to drive 45 minutes.  It was cold - 16 degrees.  It was in the mountains (how hilly was this race going to be??).

The race started promptly at 8am in a State Park.  It was predominately on a trail, with a few small stretches of pavement.  It was beautiful - sun coming up, along the lake, cold - but green sprouts coming out of the ground along the way.  It was not a technical trail, like the January race, and it was rolling hills (nothing too outrageous).  The miles were not marked, and I did not wear a watch, but about mile 6, I realized I felt really great.  I wasn't exhausted, my body didn't hurt, and I felt really - really good.

I needed this.

Because the coming week was not really - really good.

Every now and then, my husband and I will look at each other and say, "Tea Parties."  This is what we imagine life is like when one has daughters only. . .tea parties, barbies, and rainbows. Calm.  Peaceful.
We usually say, "Tea Parties" after the boys have flooded the bathroom (again), broken the dishwasher door (again), left hand (and sometimes foot) prints on the walls (and ceilings). . .you get the idea.  I know that this is just a Grass is Always Greener mentality.  There are daughters who are probably just as destructive as our boys.  And, don't get me wrong, I LOVE my boys - but I am constantly amazed at some of the issues that I deal with having my boys.

Mother Nature decided to share some of New England's winter weather with us this week - so we did not have school the past few days.
Being trapped in my home, I decided was a great opportunity to look for a missing Science Book.  My son's 5th grade teacher had mentioned it was missing about a week ago - and while I had done a cursory glance through the house, and not found it, I decided to to don the Hazmat suit and dig into the disaster that is my house.

I did not find the science book.

BUT, I did locate 18 books that belonged to the school.  Have I mentioned that my eldest son is a hoarder?  I don't use this term lightly - he really is a hoarder.  I found these books in various nooks and crannies in his room - all belonging to the school. . .but not the Science Book.

It was really bugging me that this book was lost.  However, it did not seem to faze my son in the slightest.

First day back at school today - and I was tearing apart his cubby looking for said Science Book.  I vented to a coworker about it, and she suggested looking between car seats.  I did not find the Science Book - but I did find missing book #19.

Later in the afternoon, I got a text from the teacher - the Science Book was located - in the classroom!  Relief.  Satisfaction - I had torn the house apart, and it was truly not in the house, so I wasn't going totally crazy. . .yet.

And, a little later in the afternoon, a call from other son's teacher about his vocabulary. . .No, she was not complimenting about his amazing and correct use of words like:  irk, tremulous, boustrophedonic, or disquisitionary.  No, he was flexing his vocabulary muscles with inappropriate words for school.

So, while I sit here and figure out how to help teach my son about inappropriate words (again), I find my mind wandering to. . .tea parties. . .

A Little Something "Extra"

For a long time now, my husband and I have talked about having our kids in an activity.  For several years our eldest has been in some sort of therapy - and that was our "activity".

Now that he's done - we wanted the boys to be part of a team.  So, we decided on an after-school Running Group for Boys, offered through the school.  This seemed like the best solution because, (1) it's running, which is physical, (2) it's a team - a group of boys all about the same age, from the same school, yet it's not so much a team that my eldest will have a social meltdown, and most importantly (3) it was offered on the only day, Wednesday, that I have free to make it happen.

When we told the boys about it the Sunday prior to the start, my youngest was fine, and my eldest - had a nuclear scream-cry tantrum.  Basically, why did he have to do it?  We are the meanest parents ever.  He's going to use his money to hire a lawyer and sue us to not make him join the run group.  He hates running.  Why?  Why? Why?  This went on for the next two nights, to the point that I was ready to say, Forget it.

The Wednesday of the first Run Group, my eldest had a rough day in school - so at the end of the day, the teachers had a mini meeting with my son and myself to discuss the day.  After a few minutes of chatting, he burst into tears and said, "I don't want to run!"

Sometimes, I think it would be just as productive for me to bang my head against a wall.

Not caving in, I marched my boys (thirty minutes late) to the Run Group - where my children proceeded to immediately join in the insanity that is ten boys ages 8-10 running around in a confined space.  Within ten minutes, my eldest announced, "I don't like Run Group, I LOVE Run Group."

I went off in search of the nearest wall to bang my head. . .and then to go see if Starbucks would add a little something "extra" to my coffee.

What goes on in my kids' heads?  Why did this have to be such a struggle?  What did he imagine Run Group would be like that he was so upset initially?  Maybe I need to be adding a little "extra" something to their morning OJ?

On the other hand - what is going on in my youngest son's head?
The other day, I coordinated and chaperoned a local fieldtrip, for my youngest son's 3rd grade class.  We had been learning about the businesses and our city, so we took a fieldtrip to the bank.
I had taken my eldest son and his 3rd class on this very same fieldtrip, to this very same bank, two years prior.
Two years ago, my eldest son's class spent a ridiculous amount of time in the safety deposit vault room.  They were stuck on the fact that the tour host banker mentioned about the room being fire proof, so people left their valuables in these boxes.  Fire proof?  For the next 20 minutes, the kids wanted to know if the room was safe from hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding, tsunamis (because North Carolina is known for it's tsunami season) - then they started combining disasters, "What if there is a hurricane AND a tsunami?"

So, heading into this year's fieldtrip, I felt prepared.  We prepped in advance.  No need to worry about natural disasters kids!

We get to the bank.  I'd been emailing with the Tour Banker (same lady as two years prior).  We could handle all the natural disaster questions.  We were ready!
Not for this group.

"What happens if you lose your key to your safe deposit box?"  (what is it with this part of the tour?)  "Why do they have to drill it out?"  "How long does it take to drill it out?"  "What kind of drill do you use?"  "Will it go faster if you use two drills?"

Seriously kids?  We've been studying banking:  checking, savings, loans, interest!

"Have you ever been robbed?"  "How long would it take for a robber to drill in?"  "If there are two robbers could they do it faster?"

Then, from my son, "How long would it take the police to get here?"  "What if someone wants to drill through the foot thick safety door to the deposit boxes?  Could they do it before the police get here?"

"What are you planning?" I asked him.

Walking away, with a sly smile, he said, "Nothing."

Clearly looking distraught, at the thoughts racing through my head - namely that I will have a future baking cakes with nail files in them, the assistant teacher tried to comfort me with, "Maybe he will be an architect, planning how to make things more safe."

Or maybe, we all need a little "extra" something to survive parenthood.
I'm going for a run.

4-uh-0

The universe has a terrific sense of humor.

My last race of the year was a couple weeks ago.  The Huntersville Half.  Not my favorite race, but I like the date - right between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I went into it with no expectations.  I have been struggling with a hamstring issue, and was at the beginning of a horrible chest cold.  Nothing like falling apart, right before a race.

I started running with a friend, but by mile 6 pulled ahead.  Before the end of mile 7, I had passed the 2:00 hour pacer person, and all I could think of was, "Don't lose it."  So a race that I went into feeling like crap, and not having any goal, other than to get a good workout on a freezing Saturday morning, became a. . .race.  I could not, mentally, allow that 2:00 hour pacer to pass me.  So I didn't.  I finished in 1:59, and then fell apart.  I was sick the rest of the weekend, and then spent the following week caring for sick children.

With Winter Break finally here though, I figured it would be a good opportunity to relax, clean, and just be with the family.

In a totally un-me like move, I decided to NOT make holiday cards this year.  Like the Huntersville Half, it didn't start out that way - but it quickly evolved into an executive decision, to save my sanity.  I cannot get a picture of my kids that is even halfway decent.  One or both is in constant motion, there is always at least one set of bunny ears in the picture, and I am lucky to get one of them looking at the camera - if I am lucky.  It was stressing me out too much.  It's still stressing me out, but I don't know what to do about it.  Maybe buy a picture frame from the store, with a gorgeous stock family photo, and send that out?  I might resort to that. . .

Now that we are all slowly recovering from our chest colds, I got the great news (sense sarcasm here folks) that I need gum surgery.  Now.  So, this very afternoon, I will be getting some (hopefully awesome) drugs, and getting my gums rebuilt.  I won't go into detail - in fact, I asked the Dentist to stop telling me about the procedure because it was freaking me out.  I feel like I need meds now, just to get to the appointment.

I remember, when complaining about getting older, my father said, "At some point, it is just about fixing all the parts before they fall off."  I am there. . .Gums.  Check.

And, because the universe has a great sense of humor, what do I get in the mail, but a notice for a mammogram!  Really?  They couldn't wait a few more weeks until I was at least truly 40?  No, let's add insult to injury and just hit me all at once with the fact that I am turning 40.

What are you doing for the Big 4-0, you might ask me?  Well, let me tell you!  I will be a single mother, while my husband goes off to Vegas for the week.
Now, I know he is going for work, and will most likely be doing this:

But, as he is going to Vegas, all I can picture, is that he will be doing this:

During MY Birthday week.

Oh universe, you are hilarious.

Pay It Forward

Last month I was SuperWoman.

Okay, maybe not officially SuperWoman, but I felt like it.

I organized two volunteer days at our local Soup Kitchen, for the cycling group to which I belong.  I had enough interest, that we reserved a two-hour time frame on a Thursday and a Friday, so that all who wanted, could participate.  Several fellow riders who were interested in helping, but could not take the time off work, donated much needed items to the Soup Kitchen.

It was amazing, and I hope to do it again in the spring.  We prepared meals and served food.  It was both humbling and rewarding.  I'm very aware that my family is very, very lucky.  If we need something, we usually get it.  I do not take my house, car, food and love for granted.  I know we are truly blessed to have ALL that we do. . .

My family is not wealthy.  If we were, I'd probably quickly put us into the poverty category with my book shopping and/or need to donate money to every possible charity.

BUT, I do have time.  I can give that - and I try to, whenever possible.
It feels good to give.

While at one of the Soup Kitchen events, a fellow cyclist asked if I was interested in running in a local 10-miler race.  "It's near Charlotte, I think it's the Gastonia 10-Miler," she said.  I like 10 miles.  I like local.  Sure, why not.

However, after I got home, and actually looked the race up, it is actually called the Spencer MOUNTAIN 10-Miler. . .for a reason.

See, the first 5 or so miles are relatively flat, but see the second half?  See all those ups and downs?  See that BIG UP about 7.5 miles into the race?  And it keeps going up. . .Yeah, that is Spencer Mountain.

Needless to say, I ran that race.  I ran that Mountain.  I can now never complain about a "hilly" race, because that one beats all others.

That said, today I ran the (very hilly, but no mountains!) Pay It Forward 5K.  This was an amazing race, put on by a wonderful woman, with an incredible theme.  Pay - It - Forward.  Every runner (and walker) who crossed the finish line was given a water bottle with money inside.  The amounts ranged from $10-$500.  Then, we can use that money to - Pay It Forward.  There was even a tent sent up at the finish with a list of local charities and items needed, if you needed some suggestions.

Pay It Forward.

I don't usually have money to give - just time, as I mentioned.  I really wanted that $500 because then I could have split it up among the many charities I would like to donate to - I got $20.  I am torn about donating to the Soup Kitchen - always a worthwhile charity, in my book.  Or also, tis' the season, I know some local teachers who could use a little "pick me up" and I am debating on surprising them with coffee one cold morning?

Or, I could just start to dig a little deeper, into my own pocket and do both - because really, giving feels just as good, if not better, than getting.

Pay It Forward.

Rocktoberfest 2014 (aka HILLtoberfest)

Yesterday, I ran my 11th Half Marathon.

It is the first race I did not have butterflies before a race.

What was different?  I am still not sure - just that I did not have pre-race anxiety, like I usually do. I just wanted to get started (the race began about 4 minutes late, according to my watch), and about mile 8, I just wanted to be done.

I had not been looking forward to the race, because I do not feel that I trained as much as I would have liked.  Life, you know?  It was in Charlotte, which I hate driving in.  It would be hilly.
However, I had not run in a race since June.  I've been trying to cut back - but not that much, so I was due for a race.
I was looking forward to running through neighborhoods - I always enjoy looking at houses.

Last blog I wrote about how awesome running HILLS can be. . .this week, I would like to say, Hills Suck.

If it's at all possible, I think the race yesterday was entirely uphill.  With a few more uphills for funsies.  I was moderately familiar with the course, as I think it was very close to the Ramblin Rose Half Marathon I ran a couple of years ago.  I knew about the Big Hill at mile 5.  I forgot about the other big hills at miles 7, 8, 10, 11 and 12.

That said, I did fairly well.  I ran with a friend until Mile 4.25, at which point we got separated.  After that, I ran my own pace, enjoyed looking at the houses, thanking all the police officers, volunteers, and spectators, high-fiving children standing on sidewalks to cheer on their families, and grooving to my playlist.

Hillly and humid - I had a good run.

Eleven 1/2 marathons, and maybe I've just found my groove?  I know what to expect.  I know what to wear, and how to prepare.  I know that I will finish.
Or, maybe, I am finally confident in my abilities as a runner?

I know that I CAN do this. . .

And I am glad I learned to use the chaffing cream in places where one would not normally think chaffing could occur.

Hills

When I am out driving, I am always on the lookout for new routes for my running and/or cycling.  I look for roads that are not too busy, not a lot of big hills, and if possible, scenic.

Yet, I've learned that when driving, a road can seem relatively flat - until you are cycling on it, and especially, when you run on it.  There is a neighborhood near me where I like to do my long runs - it's very safe, has lots of beautiful homes - quite a few on the water, and it seems mostly flat - and it is for this area. . .until I run it.

What seems flat in my car, and moderately flat on my bicycle, feels much more up and down when I run.

And that's fine.

Hills make me stronger.

I have not done a long run, in a long time.  I have a 1/2 coming up next month though, and really wanted to get in a long run prior to the race.  So, this weekend, I picked my favorite long route, in the above-mentioned safe, beautiful neighborhood - headed out early - and had my long run.

As I ran, I found myself thinking about:  my sons, and the many small dips and climbs along the route - that I usually think of as flat.  There are a lot of similarities.

This August, we started back to school.  My eldest, in 5th grade, my youngest in 3rd.  We got off to a great start.  Great, doesn't even really begin to cover it.  My eldest is doing really, REALLY well.  I feel like I am holding my breath - waiting - for what?  For 5 years and a little of the 6th year, I frequently fielded weekly, if not daily, meltdowns from my child, teacher concerns, academic battles, social struggles, etc.  Last year it was significantly less.  This year, thus far, nonexistent.

We are on a flat stretch of road.

Yet, as I was on my long run, I was reminded that no road is perfectly flat.  I've learned, as I am now in my 3rd year of serious running, that I actually do not like races that are "flat".  I even run slower, and struggle more on "flat" courses, than if there are at least a few hills or rolling hills.  Don't get me wrong, flat stretches are nice, as a recovery to prepare for the hills.

I prefer the give and take of having to work up a hill, and coming down.  I like that I have to use different muscles, including my brain, to make it up a hill.  I enjoy the challenge of it.

And, it makes me stronger.

While my son and I are on a relatively flat portion of our journey, I know that there will be hills.  There are still our normal daily hurdles.  We are working hard, but we are certainly enjoying this stretch of our run.  We have climbed a lot of hills, we will climb more - and be fine - because we are stronger.

Race Bibs, Shirts, and Medals - Oh My!

You run.
You bike.
You Tri.

What are you doing with your race bibs?  Your mountains of race shirts?  All those awesome medals?

I think each athlete has their own "thing".  I have friends who love to run for the "bling" - the amazing medals.  There are people who have their race shirts made into blankets.  Personally, I like to collect my race bibs.  Some are plain - really only a number.  Some are much more colorful, and now and then, even personalized, with my name.

I've written before about my Mile 22 bag.

I love it.

This is my exercise bag - and I have used it for more than a year now - and it's still in perfect condition.  This bag holds everything I need for my workouts and races, it is tough, it reflects my hard work.

Mile 22 Race Day Tote carries it ALL:
I take mine to work every day, in case I get a chance to run.  I also pack it up whenever I have a ride or race.  It holds my workout gear, shoes, and all my workout junk - you know - SpiBelt, KT-Tape, face wipes, GUs, gum, extra socks, hat, water bottles, Garmin, iPod, and kitchen sink.  You get the idea.

Mile 22 Bags say, "You're Awesome!":
Come on runners - we are not a shy group.  We proudly wear our race shirts.  We slather the back of our vehicles with a variety of stickers and magnets advertising our accomplishments - 26.2, 13.1, TRI, Runner Girl.  Mile 22 takes your hard earned race bibs, race shirts, and can even use the ribbons from your medals to make a personalized bag for YOU.  Why not have a bag that you can carry around to show off - since we can't lug our cars with us into the store.

Mile 22 Bags Can Improve Your Social Life:
To me, carrying around my bag (which goes to work with me every day) - is like wearing one of my race medals after a race.  I am proud.  I make new friends.  People will stop me and ask about my bag, and point to one of the bibs and ask, "Did you run that one?  I did!", and I get to meet a fellow runner.

Mile 22 Bags Can Save the World:
Well, this one might be a slight exaggeration - BUT, your Mile 22 bag purchase can help St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.
Seriously.

I am honored and excited to be an Ambassador for Mile 22 Bags - can you tell?

When you click on the Mile 22 links on this page, you can place an order that is connected to me.  I've chosen to support St. Jude's Charity.  I do not profit at all - but St. Jude's will receive $10 from every bag purchased through my link.  You get, and you give.
View/Order Mile 22 Bags

In addition - from now through November 30th - you can receive 10% off your purchase when you enter my specific code:  ROCKTOBERFEST.

You're welcome.