Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Jealous Much?

When you do laundry for eight people, you get this many socks to sort.

Lucky, lucky me.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Snippets

14 Minutes

So, Jeff and I ran the 500 Festival Mini Marathon in Indianapolis last Saturday. Temps were downright balmy the day before, prompting me to pack a running skirt and t-shirt to run in. Imagine my surprise when we awoke to temps in the 40s and gale force winds. I knew we were in trouble when we turned on the local news, and the anchor was out in front of our hotel wearing a parka. Luckily, out of the generosity of my wonderful husband and friends, I was able to supplement my wardrobe with a tech shirt and jacket. (Thank you, Jeff! Thank you, Billie!) This year, the race seemed much more crowded -- not just because we were all huddled together in the starting corrals for warmth. We spend much of the first several miles zig-zagging through people. And, not only were there crowds to deal with, but rudeness. Usually this race is very fun and courteous. People are generally in great moods, interacting with street-side entertainers and cordial to all the well-wishers. This year, we encountered countless rude people who, apparently, thought they were all about winning the race. I've got news for you. If your starting corral is any further back in the alphabet than, say... D, and you are not Kenyan by any stretch of the imagination, you will not be crossing the finish line first. YOU. WILL. NOT. EVEN. PLACE. IN. THE. TOP. 10. Just sayin'... get over yourself.

Jeff had hoped he could coach/motivate me to a finish somewhere around 2:15-2:20. We were probably on the right track with our 10-minute/mile pace at the beginning. Then... I had to pee. I tried running through the urge, thinking it was just nerves, but it became very clear, very quickly that my pre-race hydration had caught up with me. My porta potty stop cost us around 6 minutes or so. I could verify this with Jeff, since he was totally timing our delay on my Garmin. (Which I ended up having him wear, rather than hear him ask me "What's our pace?" every 90 seconds.) In the end, we crossed the finish line at 2:38. To him, it probably felt like he walked the whole distance, and was cause for disappointment that we missed the target by about 20 minutes. For me, on the other hand, I quickly did the math and realized I had shaved 14 minutes off my half marathon time from last September. This made me very happy, although it was bittersweet seeing Jeff's disappointment as well. I know he could've run ahead and finished with a sub-2:00 time, but he didn't want to leave me. Very sweet, yes... but I did learn a valuable lesson that perhaps we would do better if we didn't run together. At least until I can step up my pace.

Now, three days later, I am still kind of proud of bringing my time down by 14 minutes. If I can commit to training (for real) throughout the summer, I may just see my time dwindle down to that 2:15 target. We'll see...



Monday Is Not Sunday

This past Sunday, as we all know, was Mother's Day. I got a lovely bunch of six tulips (one for each child) that we can actually plant outside and enjoy. The boys were all about saying, "I love you, Mom," all day long. Hugs were plentiful, too.

Then, Monday, we were at the boys' baseball game, cheering in the brisk, early evening air. I grabbed a hot chocolate from the concession stand, drank a little bit, then called Sam over to share the rest. He took the cup and drank, then handed the cup back to me, saying, "Here, Mom, you can have the rest."
Yes. That's an empty cup. If I was still riding on the wings of love from Mother's Day the day before, then THAT? Brought me right back down to earth.


Could I FEEL Any Older?!



This innocent, Fisher-Price classic toy led my 8yo to ask (in all seriousness), "Mom? How did you actually call someone on these phones in the olden days?" Let me tell you, it blew his mind to understand we had to wedge a finger into the little hole and turn the rotary dial all the way around, just to register a number. But, please... "olden days?" It's a darn good thing he's cute...