Friday, September 25, 2009
Number of miles: 13.1
Time remaining before the gun goes off: about 21 hours
Number of miles I've logged training: ummm... not as many as I am comfortable with.
Average pace of those I am supposed to run with: approx. 9:30
MY average pace these days: a smidge more than 9:30
Weather forecast: cloudy morning/afternoon sun (Much better than the "T-STORMS" predicted)
Amount of water I will drink today to be uber-hydrated: a whole damn lot
Number of times I will take a walk break: as many as I need, baby
Speaking of babies, number of months since I had Bobby: 6.5
Number of months since I received medical clearance to run following C-Section: about 5
I have had five months to get back into pre-baby running shape, and training has been marginal at best. Life sometimes gets in the way like that. But you do what you can. And tomorrow? I am going to take on 13.1 miles through some, shall we say, interesting parts of Fort Wayne. I will do my best and give it everything I have -- but without being stupid and risking injury. I figured that the longest training run I had been able to do before previous half-marathons was a solid five miles, and I did OK. So my training wasn't as strenuous as I'd hoped/planned. I still got out there when I could and did the road work. I will not finish first, but I don't think I'll be last, either. But after the race, as in "cross-the-finish-line-and-grab-a-free-banana-and-let's-go" Jeff and I have to high-tail it out to Jack and Charlie's football game. It's a comeback week for them after a loss last week. I. Cannot. Miss. It. Period. And unless I am rolled into the gutter by fellow runners to wait for the first aid cart, I won't miss it.
For the record, my personal best for a half-marathon is 2:34, which I posted in the 2007 500 Festival Mini in Indianapolis. I tried to break 2:30 in 2008, but failed by a few minutes. I would love to say I hope to achieve this goal tomorrow, but I am just going out there to have fun and see where the numbers fall when my feet cross the finish line.
Because if running isn't fun, what's the point?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
This is what addiction looks like:
On a completely different note, Sid and I had a run in on Sunday morning. Literally. Jeff and I were scurrying about, trying to pack up the diaper bag and get out the door for church. I rushed into the kitchen to grab a bottle from the refrigerator, and somehow Sid got tangled in my feet. He yowled and hissed. Then he limped under the table and kept hissing at me. It was obvious he was hurt, but he wouldn't let me get near him. I felt so bad. When we returned later, he seemed OK, but I noticed he would run away from me for the rest of the day. Seriously. Imagine my surprise when tonight as I sat in the den watching The Office, enjoying my bowl of chocolate crack and milk, Sid wandered in. He eyeballed the spot on the sofa next to me. He jumped up, edging a little closer every minute or so. Soon, he jumped to the back of the sofa and crept along until one paw could reach my shoulder. Pat, pat, pat. About a minute more, and he was sprawled out behind me, obviously forgetting I had jacked up his leg two days ago.
And this is what forgiveness looks like:
A combo donation/resale trip of epic proportions.
For about the last couple of months or so, I have been in the process of weeding out a few closets (including my own... no one being thrown under the bus on this project) in an effort to maximize space and de-clutter. After weeks on the job, I now have a box of my clothes to take to a resale shop, an even bigger box of random stuff to take to Goodwill and an impressive pile of baby/boys' clothes to take to another resale shop. The problem? I've been trying to get this stuff the hell out of my house for two weeks. And every time I designate a day to actually load the car and GO, something else comes up and it doesn't get done.
Yesterday, we seized the opportunity to go fetch a dresser from James and Jenny to put in Jack, Charlie and Sam's new room. They more than needed it. I mean, seriously. I was trying to fit three boys' worth of clothing into a small closet and one drawer apiece. Did. Not. Work. Now, with a slightly bigger dresser, there is a bit more breathing room. (That, and I am sort of re-purging their play clothes/summer clothes as I go. Shhh. Don't tell them.)
So, despite my declarations that yesterday was the long-awaited donation day, once again it didn't transpire.
But today? Despite gloomy skies and intermittent rain? IS the day. I am motivated, have hours ahead of me before picking up the boys at school... I feel a successful day coming on.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
SERIOUSLY,... ARE YOU EVEN TRYING?
This one's just so awful. I've got nothing.
...he may be in the same position in his dorm room. Jeff says he'll be surrounded by books, where he crashed after pulling an all-night study session. Me? I have a slightly different prediction. (And, yes, after taking the photo I gently pried his chubby little legs out from between the spindles.)
YOU PEOPLE ARE KILLIN' ME.
Do you see how much syrup is left in the bottle? Why?! Why does this make it back into the fridge?