If I'd been able to log on to my parent's wireless I would have posted any number of times over the weekend.
I wasn't able to log on though, so all of those would be posts have truncated into fluttering little ideas, bouncing about inside my skull. Every time one of those little winged bytes rebounds off the surface of my mind it triggers a mite of panic about not having posted it yet.
My hope is that by shooing all of these pests out of my head and into this one post, the mini panics will subside and I'll be able to function in a more normal fashion.
In the days leading up to my departure, I found myself using an old, musty smelling purse whose inside zippered pocket bears a gaping hole such that my lip gloss always winds up at the bottom of the bag inside the lining. I've been meaning to stitch up that pocket for ages, but I've never yet done it.
As I packed my things for my trip, I looked in that bag and felt pure terror at the idea of carrying it with me. Aside from the obvious problems of the gaping pocket and mustiness, I didn't want to carry any diapers or ointments or other items unnecessary for a child-free weekend.
I liberated those items I would need from the musty bag and deposited them in the lap-top back pack I was borrowing from The Mr. Namely, my wallet, my phone, my sunglasses, and a cache of lip glosses. The rest of it, diapering supplies, emergency toys, boxes of raisins, even the keys to my own dear Dusty Miller, I left.
My plan was to go out the next day and buy a new bag. That didn't happen until the day after though. The out and about hours of Friday were passed with my wallet, phone, glasses and lip gloss clutched in my bare paw.
Running in Utah is a different experience. Something about the air. It's delicious. I sip it in and taste it, bliss in my lugs. Comparatively, the air here is flat, stale and uninviting.
Monday morning I'd talked myself out of running. Then I inadvertently leaned close to the open window and caught a fresh draft from outside. I needed more. I had to get out there and breathe it, fill my lungs to their highest capacity and revel in the sweetness.
It was a good run.
You know those houses, home to sweet-toothed folks, where there is a candy dish at every turn? Any time a hankering hits there's a dish of sugared fulfillment close at hand?
My parents house is kind of like that, but the indulgences scattered across the surfaces of their home aren't of the edible variety. They are books., and they're every where.
You'll never find yourself at a loss for something to read while visiting there.
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The Race
You've all bee waiting for this, I know. Well, the time has arrived friends. Without further ado I give you my run down of The 2009 Wasatch Back
Here we are, the van one crowd ready to head out. That's the only picture I've got that includes me. I have a few awkward mid-run shots of my teammates, but I don't know how well they'd like it if I shared those, and the pictures don't add much to my story any way, so lets just stick with the one team shot, and move on. Shall we?
Yes, lets!
See that first big spike on the Course Profile? Right there between 20 and 30 miles. That was my first leg.
Here's a graph of just that leg, It's not quite so intimidating to look at in this format, but I've got to tell you I was still terrified.
All of my training was for this run. I figured as long as I got through this one, the rest would be cake. I was nervous, I mean really nervous. Since the only time I had to train was after my kids were sleeping, I had to stick close to home. We're talking no more than a mile from my house a any point during training runs. There was a lot of looping involved, running up and down every street in my neighborhood. It's an ok system for getting distance in, but my hood's flat as flat folks. I never did find any hills to train on so I was worried.
I started out really strong. I found my pace early, and ran steady, no problem. I was climbing, but there were some down hill stretches now and then to even things out, and I was feeling good.
My team met me at the half way point, and I didn't have the good sense to turn down the water they kept putting in my hands. I had water with me, so I was pretty well hydrated already. I only stopped at the van because I wanted Cocoa Butter for my lips but when the cold water was there in my hand I drank it. I didn't drink alot but it was enough to regret when I started running again. I was uncomfortable for probably half a mile or so until my system absorbed the extra liquid. Then I was back on track.
The team stopped again, I think it was about two miles out from the exchange. I was running fine, on target with my projected pace, according to Neal, the teammate who was keeping track of such things. It was during those last two miles that I fell 15 minutes behind my projected time.
The real climb was starting, I was feeling strong having discovered the exhilaration that comes with besting a tough hill, but the road was complete crap. Big lose rocks that turned under my feet. I was wasting a ridiculous amount of energy trying to run without falling. I should have given in to the walk sooner, but I kept thinking the rocks would clear out so I kept running. Finally I realized how close I was to injuring myself and walked. Once the rocks cleared out I should've been able to run again but the road was narrow, and being that close to the exchange meant the traffic had picked up, so I spent a lot of time dodging cars. By the time the road was clear enough to actually run again I was so beat from the rocks, and the not getting smashed by any vans, not to mention that the climb had been relentless through all of that, I only just managed to run the last quarter mile. It was the shame I would have felt walking in view of the exchange that got me running again. And so, my 7.4 mile "very hard" run was over. I was happy with my performance and ready to relax and enjoy the rest. Compared to what I'd just done I figured I could pretty much sleep though my next two legs.
My second leg was 4.2 miles and categorized as "moderate." Here's the graph of this one.
I ran this some time around 9:00 pm. It was just dark when I started which was perfect. I started a little fast. After a bit I decided I'd better pull back to keep from burning out early and that was a good move. It was a really great run. I think it helped that it was right around the same time of night and the same distance as an average training run. There were some hills, which as I've already stated, aren't part of my routine but it was a nice comfortable run and I was happy with it.
I was the second to last runner in our van so once we picked up our last runner we drove ahead to exchange 24 to sleep until we were up again. I laid my sleeping bag out on the lawn, crawled in and after 15 minutes or so to warm up and relax I was out. My teammates were kept up by the noise of the race going on around us, but I grew up in a 12 person household, if there's one thing I can do, it's sleep through noise. It's a skill of mine. I even have it listed on my resume.
I got up a few hours later feeling fantastic and ready to run. One of the runners from our other van was having knee troubles and was afraid she wouldn't be able to finish her up coming 6 mile leg. "No problem," I said. I'd just woken up from some seriously good sleep and felt like I could run all day. "Get it started, and I'll finish it if you can't" My last run was 2.5 miles and ranked as "easy." In the state of mind I was in, that didn't seem like enough. I was almost hoping to be able to do more. Except for how that would mean my friend was hurt, I didn't want that.(Love you Katie!) Here's the graph of that leg.
I started running. I had planned to up my speed a bit since it was a short run on a solid surface with no hills and plenty of room to avoid oncoming traffic. I thought maybe I could make up a little bit of time. Not a lot of time, I am not a fast runner, but a little.
Then I started running.
Suddenly my body remembered the previous 24 hours. I was dead tired and I had to drag my self those 2.5 miles of flat paved road. I walked more than I care to admit. It was awfully embarrassing. Vans from the race would drive by and I'd know that they knew what and easy leg this was and I'd cringe with the shame of my walk but I was just so tired. I pulled myself together for the last quarter mile and ran in to the exchange, I still had some pride.
Lucky for me (and her) Katie's knee held out long enough for her to finish her last leg. I was very relieved that I didn't have to go back out there. Once I discovered how exhausted I was it was really hard to ignore and I dragged through the rest of the day even without additional miles to run.
So that was the race. We made it in 34.22 hours or something. Ok, to be honest I don't remember how many minutes it was but 22 sounds about right so I'm throwing it out there. I got a medal, it's shiny and orange and it doubles as a bottle opener. It also makes security personnel suspicious when they x-ray your baggage.
We had some foster care proceedings this past week and I hadn't cleaned out my purse since the trip. "uh, ma'am? is that a can opener?" the security worker at the courthouse asked, befuddled. It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh, that's just my medal," I explained like it's a normal thing to carry a medal around in your purse. You never know when you'll have need of such a thing. Really, how could I leave home without it?
Here we are, the van one crowd ready to head out. That's the only picture I've got that includes me. I have a few awkward mid-run shots of my teammates, but I don't know how well they'd like it if I shared those, and the pictures don't add much to my story any way, so lets just stick with the one team shot, and move on. Shall we?
Yes, lets!
See that first big spike on the Course Profile? Right there between 20 and 30 miles. That was my first leg.
Here's a graph of just that leg, It's not quite so intimidating to look at in this format, but I've got to tell you I was still terrified.
All of my training was for this run. I figured as long as I got through this one, the rest would be cake. I was nervous, I mean really nervous. Since the only time I had to train was after my kids were sleeping, I had to stick close to home. We're talking no more than a mile from my house a any point during training runs. There was a lot of looping involved, running up and down every street in my neighborhood. It's an ok system for getting distance in, but my hood's flat as flat folks. I never did find any hills to train on so I was worried.
I started out really strong. I found my pace early, and ran steady, no problem. I was climbing, but there were some down hill stretches now and then to even things out, and I was feeling good.
My team met me at the half way point, and I didn't have the good sense to turn down the water they kept putting in my hands. I had water with me, so I was pretty well hydrated already. I only stopped at the van because I wanted Cocoa Butter for my lips but when the cold water was there in my hand I drank it. I didn't drink alot but it was enough to regret when I started running again. I was uncomfortable for probably half a mile or so until my system absorbed the extra liquid. Then I was back on track.
The team stopped again, I think it was about two miles out from the exchange. I was running fine, on target with my projected pace, according to Neal, the teammate who was keeping track of such things. It was during those last two miles that I fell 15 minutes behind my projected time.
The real climb was starting, I was feeling strong having discovered the exhilaration that comes with besting a tough hill, but the road was complete crap. Big lose rocks that turned under my feet. I was wasting a ridiculous amount of energy trying to run without falling. I should have given in to the walk sooner, but I kept thinking the rocks would clear out so I kept running. Finally I realized how close I was to injuring myself and walked. Once the rocks cleared out I should've been able to run again but the road was narrow, and being that close to the exchange meant the traffic had picked up, so I spent a lot of time dodging cars. By the time the road was clear enough to actually run again I was so beat from the rocks, and the not getting smashed by any vans, not to mention that the climb had been relentless through all of that, I only just managed to run the last quarter mile. It was the shame I would have felt walking in view of the exchange that got me running again. And so, my 7.4 mile "very hard" run was over. I was happy with my performance and ready to relax and enjoy the rest. Compared to what I'd just done I figured I could pretty much sleep though my next two legs.
My second leg was 4.2 miles and categorized as "moderate." Here's the graph of this one.
I ran this some time around 9:00 pm. It was just dark when I started which was perfect. I started a little fast. After a bit I decided I'd better pull back to keep from burning out early and that was a good move. It was a really great run. I think it helped that it was right around the same time of night and the same distance as an average training run. There were some hills, which as I've already stated, aren't part of my routine but it was a nice comfortable run and I was happy with it.
I was the second to last runner in our van so once we picked up our last runner we drove ahead to exchange 24 to sleep until we were up again. I laid my sleeping bag out on the lawn, crawled in and after 15 minutes or so to warm up and relax I was out. My teammates were kept up by the noise of the race going on around us, but I grew up in a 12 person household, if there's one thing I can do, it's sleep through noise. It's a skill of mine. I even have it listed on my resume.
I got up a few hours later feeling fantastic and ready to run. One of the runners from our other van was having knee troubles and was afraid she wouldn't be able to finish her up coming 6 mile leg. "No problem," I said. I'd just woken up from some seriously good sleep and felt like I could run all day. "Get it started, and I'll finish it if you can't" My last run was 2.5 miles and ranked as "easy." In the state of mind I was in, that didn't seem like enough. I was almost hoping to be able to do more. Except for how that would mean my friend was hurt, I didn't want that.(Love you Katie!) Here's the graph of that leg.
I started running. I had planned to up my speed a bit since it was a short run on a solid surface with no hills and plenty of room to avoid oncoming traffic. I thought maybe I could make up a little bit of time. Not a lot of time, I am not a fast runner, but a little.
Then I started running.
Suddenly my body remembered the previous 24 hours. I was dead tired and I had to drag my self those 2.5 miles of flat paved road. I walked more than I care to admit. It was awfully embarrassing. Vans from the race would drive by and I'd know that they knew what and easy leg this was and I'd cringe with the shame of my walk but I was just so tired. I pulled myself together for the last quarter mile and ran in to the exchange, I still had some pride.
Lucky for me (and her) Katie's knee held out long enough for her to finish her last leg. I was very relieved that I didn't have to go back out there. Once I discovered how exhausted I was it was really hard to ignore and I dragged through the rest of the day even without additional miles to run.
So that was the race. We made it in 34.22 hours or something. Ok, to be honest I don't remember how many minutes it was but 22 sounds about right so I'm throwing it out there. I got a medal, it's shiny and orange and it doubles as a bottle opener. It also makes security personnel suspicious when they x-ray your baggage.
We had some foster care proceedings this past week and I hadn't cleaned out my purse since the trip. "uh, ma'am? is that a can opener?" the security worker at the courthouse asked, befuddled. It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh, that's just my medal," I explained like it's a normal thing to carry a medal around in your purse. You never know when you'll have need of such a thing. Really, how could I leave home without it?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Back to life
After two and a half days as an awesome kick-A running runner chick during the Wasatch Back, I returned to my Mother in law's house, my children and my identity as a mother of three.
Picture this; three young children who've spent two weeks away from their home and their beds, plus two days and three nights away form their mother. Now, put those children in the bath tub and attempt to ready them and yourself for church. Sounds fun, no?
The crazy amount of longing for them I'd been collecting in my bosom over the previous days supplied me with the patience to get through it...almost. There was some screaming on my part toward the end of the ordeal when the New one would not tolerate being put down and Enzo refused to hold still while I put his shoes on.
The race was fantastic. I'm planning to write a sort of boring analysis of my running performance for those of you who are interested in that sort of thing, but for now I'll just share with you the things I learned over the course of the weekend.
I really honestly love to run.
Running hills is exhilarating.
I'm stronger than I thought I was.
I can do better.
I am sorely tempted to run the Las Vegas Ragnar in October.
I can do hard things.
Picture this; three young children who've spent two weeks away from their home and their beds, plus two days and three nights away form their mother. Now, put those children in the bath tub and attempt to ready them and yourself for church. Sounds fun, no?
The crazy amount of longing for them I'd been collecting in my bosom over the previous days supplied me with the patience to get through it...almost. There was some screaming on my part toward the end of the ordeal when the New one would not tolerate being put down and Enzo refused to hold still while I put his shoes on.
The race was fantastic. I'm planning to write a sort of boring analysis of my running performance for those of you who are interested in that sort of thing, but for now I'll just share with you the things I learned over the course of the weekend.
I really honestly love to run.
Running hills is exhilarating.
I'm stronger than I thought I was.
I can do better.
I am sorely tempted to run the Las Vegas Ragnar in October.
I can do hard things.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
It's quiet time
The new one is sleeping. Enzo is in the next room not sleeping. Actually he's crying at the moment. Zizza is up stairs experimenting with the world of heat-vent communication. "Enz, hello? This is your sister speaking"
I'm going over lists. Lists of what to pack for the race, what I need, what I have, where I need to go to get what I need, etc. I can't wait for it to be all over.
I'm looking forward to it, I am, but it will be so nice to spend some of my vacation vacationing instead of worrying and preparing for some event or other. My arrival at exchange 29 on Saturday morning will commence my freedom.
I'm going over lists. Lists of what to pack for the race, what I need, what I have, where I need to go to get what I need, etc. I can't wait for it to be all over.
I'm looking forward to it, I am, but it will be so nice to spend some of my vacation vacationing instead of worrying and preparing for some event or other. My arrival at exchange 29 on Saturday morning will commence my freedom.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Summation
I, along with the Mr and some friends, ran a 5K at the Zoo yesterday morning. I learned a thing or two during this, my first race.
1-Hills are a pain
2-I'd prefer never to run in the light of day
3-I'm every bit as slow as I thought I was.
The real miracle of the event was finding a babysitter who was willing to come at 6 am. Granted, her mother accepted the job on her behalf, but she insisted she didn't mind.
I was challenged to wear the race t-shirt for the rest of the day. Mind you, this was not the shirt I wore to run the race, but the t-shirt that came with the entrance fee. So, there was no stinking or lack of personal hygiene involved in the challenge.
At least, that was the case until moments before this photo was taken.
What the photo doesn't tell you is that sandwiched between the New One and myself is a healthy slathering of baby vomit. I snapped the photo quickly as proof of my having worn the shirt and removed my self from that puke soaked thing in short order.
Before you wonder what kind of wussy mother I am, not even able to abide a bit of spit-up on my cheap ugly t-shirt, let me just point out that the spitting child in question is nearing eight months old. During the past weeks as she's begun eating more and more solid foods her chief exports (poop and puke) have grown increasingly smelly.
I'm counting the minutes until she reaches the stage where those exports naturally decrease in frequency.
1-Hills are a pain
2-I'd prefer never to run in the light of day
3-I'm every bit as slow as I thought I was.
The real miracle of the event was finding a babysitter who was willing to come at 6 am. Granted, her mother accepted the job on her behalf, but she insisted she didn't mind.
I was challenged to wear the race t-shirt for the rest of the day. Mind you, this was not the shirt I wore to run the race, but the t-shirt that came with the entrance fee. So, there was no stinking or lack of personal hygiene involved in the challenge.
At least, that was the case until moments before this photo was taken.
What the photo doesn't tell you is that sandwiched between the New One and myself is a healthy slathering of baby vomit. I snapped the photo quickly as proof of my having worn the shirt and removed my self from that puke soaked thing in short order.
Before you wonder what kind of wussy mother I am, not even able to abide a bit of spit-up on my cheap ugly t-shirt, let me just point out that the spitting child in question is nearing eight months old. During the past weeks as she's begun eating more and more solid foods her chief exports (poop and puke) have grown increasingly smelly.
I'm counting the minutes until she reaches the stage where those exports naturally decrease in frequency.
Monday, April 20, 2009
The good news is
My foot is not broken. The bad news is I still can't run more than a single mile on it which is a problem.
More good news; I've been referred to a podiatrist who schedules appointments through his web site. No need for phone calls means that so far this guy is the Dr of my dreams.
Still on the subject of good news, look at the New One's new trick.
She's holding her bottle like a little champ. Just now she finished off an eight ouncer without dropping it once.
That's all I've got for you today.
More good news; I've been referred to a podiatrist who schedules appointments through his web site. No need for phone calls means that so far this guy is the Dr of my dreams.
Still on the subject of good news, look at the New One's new trick.
She's holding her bottle like a little champ. Just now she finished off an eight ouncer without dropping it once.
That's all I've got for you today.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Run along
I've been running.
I'm training for this.
Last night on my run I marveled at my progress since I started my training two months ago.
At the beginning, eight minutes of solid running was a triumph. I spent a generous portion of my workouts in fear that either my lungs or my head would explode before I made it home.
During my run last night I savored my progress as I loped easily past the "no helicopter" sign that was once such an accomplishment to reach. My steady, unencumbered breathing left me free to focus on the rhythm of my footfalls, my head felt more than safe from combustion and my sides were free of stitches. I ran that way for thirty minutes.
Today I decided I'd run down the street to the store and fetch a bag of butterscotch chips with which to bake a goody for my father who will arrive for a visit tomorrow.
I envisioned myself completing the 1.57 mile journey, entering the store and paying for my chips with a moist fiver. On considering the position of the cashier, I decided I'd have to come up with an alternate method of payment. The unavoidable dampness of the fiver would make for an awkward interchange regardless of my discretion in producing it from my bra, the only place I have to carry such things while running.
The whole plan went bust though, on account of the inexplicably sore foot I've been nursing all day refusing to cooperate and let me run.
And so I sit, waiting, while My Mr is out running my run, fetching my ingredient.
I suppose it's for the best, his running clothes have a pocket so no one will have to worry over damp fivers.
I'm training for this.
Last night on my run I marveled at my progress since I started my training two months ago.
At the beginning, eight minutes of solid running was a triumph. I spent a generous portion of my workouts in fear that either my lungs or my head would explode before I made it home.
During my run last night I savored my progress as I loped easily past the "no helicopter" sign that was once such an accomplishment to reach. My steady, unencumbered breathing left me free to focus on the rhythm of my footfalls, my head felt more than safe from combustion and my sides were free of stitches. I ran that way for thirty minutes.
Today I decided I'd run down the street to the store and fetch a bag of butterscotch chips with which to bake a goody for my father who will arrive for a visit tomorrow.
I envisioned myself completing the 1.57 mile journey, entering the store and paying for my chips with a moist fiver. On considering the position of the cashier, I decided I'd have to come up with an alternate method of payment. The unavoidable dampness of the fiver would make for an awkward interchange regardless of my discretion in producing it from my bra, the only place I have to carry such things while running.
The whole plan went bust though, on account of the inexplicably sore foot I've been nursing all day refusing to cooperate and let me run.
And so I sit, waiting, while My Mr is out running my run, fetching my ingredient.
I suppose it's for the best, his running clothes have a pocket so no one will have to worry over damp fivers.
Monday, December 1, 2008
How?
Here's the deal folks. I like to run. At times in my life I've even loved to run.
I've been meaning to get back into it these four years since I've become a mother, I just can't figure out how. Not how to run, I know how to do that, I've even done it a time or two. I can't figure out how to do it regularly, with children.
I ran occasionally with just the one child, I still had trouble fitting it into the day, but it was possible.
Then came the second child, and he didn't bring a double jogger with him so that complicated things. Still, I got out a time or two while the bigger one was at joy school.
Now there are three. If I bought the double jogger I could run with the smaller pair while the older one is otherwise occupied, that would be an improvement to what I'm doing now. I could only make it out 2-3 times a week that way though, not enough to constitute an actual training program for any of the races I hear about and aspire to run.
So, friends, friends with children who also manage to get out there and run. How is it done?
My guess is that you have to do it early before the children are awake. I've never given that any sort of an effort. Two reasons, I love my sleep and the morning sleep is the absolute best, and mornings are dark. I think it would compromise the safety of my person to run all by my lonesome in the big dark world.
What I need is a buddy. Does anyone want to volunteer? Come out in the insane hours of morning and run with me so we can protect one another?
Seriously, call me. (or, you know, e-mail)
I've been meaning to get back into it these four years since I've become a mother, I just can't figure out how. Not how to run, I know how to do that, I've even done it a time or two. I can't figure out how to do it regularly, with children.
I ran occasionally with just the one child, I still had trouble fitting it into the day, but it was possible.
Then came the second child, and he didn't bring a double jogger with him so that complicated things. Still, I got out a time or two while the bigger one was at joy school.
Now there are three. If I bought the double jogger I could run with the smaller pair while the older one is otherwise occupied, that would be an improvement to what I'm doing now. I could only make it out 2-3 times a week that way though, not enough to constitute an actual training program for any of the races I hear about and aspire to run.
So, friends, friends with children who also manage to get out there and run. How is it done?
My guess is that you have to do it early before the children are awake. I've never given that any sort of an effort. Two reasons, I love my sleep and the morning sleep is the absolute best, and mornings are dark. I think it would compromise the safety of my person to run all by my lonesome in the big dark world.
What I need is a buddy. Does anyone want to volunteer? Come out in the insane hours of morning and run with me so we can protect one another?
Seriously, call me. (or, you know, e-mail)
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