Archive | The Runner RSS feed for this section

My Weekend Wrap Up Because I Didn’t Realize it Was Tuesday.

By on May 15, 2012 in The Blogger, The Mommy, The Runner

Last weekend was incredibly epic. It was epic in so many ways, but mostly epic in that I took absolutely zero pictures of anything cool as it was happening.

Friday night, Kim threw an amazing book club party and I actually — once upon a time — belonged to a book club once and they let me keep coming even though I rarely actually read the book. In truth, I didn’t finish this book either, but I read over half of it and that’s really really good for my usual rate. Anyway, so about a bazillion people came and there are some crucial points to Friday night:

  1. I met lots of very funny, very smart women.
  2. There were Snausages on the table.
  3. Kim’s husband introduced me to the Margarona.

Some of you may be unfamiliar with the Margarona, so let me introduce you: it’s if a Corona and a margarita had pretty liquor babies in a glass with a salt rim. In theory, I know, sounds gross. Especially if – like me – you’re not a beer fan. But it makes it fizzy and far less sweet, so if your husband is a complete and total gentleman who believes in refilling your glass without your even having to ask, YOU GET SLOSHED AT KIM’S HOUSE.

Saturday, I had a 5K to run.

I asked Kim’s husband before I went home (you know, while I was holding on to the floor for dear life) if this was a bad training idea. He said, no, he had done this exact same training right before a half marathon. I felt better right up until he confessed that he projectile vomited all over the Finish Line.

Saturday morning, I didn’t QUITE realize how hungover I was. I didn’t have any problem french braiding my hair for the race, so I figured I was good to go. Bryan left before I did to pick up Tony from my parents’ house, so I was left to my own devices. Again, I dressed myself and EVERYTHING. Then I promptly went into the garage, remembered sunscreen, then sprayed the 85 SPF spray DIRECTLY IN MY EYES. Imagine someone literally TRYING to spray sunscreen in their eyes. That was my method of delivery, albeit entirely unintentional.

Now, most sane people would go, “Hm. That stings. I may have a slight chemical burn inside of my eye hole.” But I am not sane by any account, so I drove my weepy ass over to the meeting point with my running friends. Because they are all very nice people, they kept kindly asking, “Are you SURE you want to race like that?” and I’d say What, this little thing? The fact that my face and cheek are melting off and my eye is straight up leaking? Nah, that should clear up ONCE I START RUNNING IN THIS HEAT.

God love those nice, nice people.

So off we went, and I did finish the race, although about mile 3, I had to physically hold my eye close to make the pain subside. Not “go away entirely”, mind you, merely subside. And everyone looked at me weird. But I got a medal, so!

Here’s our “Woo Hoo” picture with our larger running group, and please to be noticing that I hid my right side of my face behind a hand. So as not to scare the public. (I am in the back in a neon orange headband that was later used to hold my eye closed.)

To show you how bad it was – SEVEN HOURS LATER – here is my face. To reiterate on the pain and the ensuing numbness, I believed I was smiling in this picture.

We all agreed that I would not visit an ER because 1) I’m pretty sure I owe them from my last visit still and 2) most of my family was already there. (It was a bad weekend all around.)

Sunday was Mother’s Day! I was surprised by a child yelling HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! and then throwing a gift bag at me and then retreating to Fruit Ninja. But I got a lovely bag of gifts, one of which was this ULTIMATE TSHIRT:

We met my family for a lovely brunch that included mimosas, so you know we enjoyed that. (They had food too. I think.)

Then we visited Toys R Us, because why not? And, naturally, hijinks ensued.

All in all, a pretty good weekend. Other than the debilitating eye injury. Which, you know, I don’t think we should base much on.

Lastly: Bryan in my junior year Show Choir Dress.

Comments { 4 }

Fellowship in a Surprising Congregation

By on April 29, 2012 in The Runner

When I started the year, I set a goal for myself that I would run 9+ miles a week.

Aaaaaand we’re easily past the first quarter of the year. I would not judge myself kindly on that goal being accomplished. Because I put something out there quantifiable, easily measured, and by that reason alone, I’ve failed. Already.

But I’ve done something BETTER. It happened by accident – sorta, mostly because I never thought it would – and it crept up on me.

I’ve learned how to run.

In 2009, sure, I ran my first 5K. I ran LOTS of 5Ks that year. But I trained by myself – badly – and wasn’t sure of what I was doing. And I got bored, quickly. I ran mostly on a treadmill. Indoors. Alone. Sometimes reading, sometimes listening to music. But I hated it.

Now, I make time for myself twice – sometimes three times! – a week. I make sure that dinner’s taken care of, and Bryan is going to be home, and I head out to run. I meet my peeps and we take off on a new challenge. We all keep eachother honest and motivated and we’re good to eachother. We talk, sometimes about surface stuff (like how much we all hate running), but sometimes about real stuff. It’s .. amazing, really.

As I get older, I find myself gravitating toward a less social position. I don’t mind the occasional hello, but I’m not one to really call someone on the phone to gab. I’m much more of a “Thought this funny thing right now so I’m sending you this text, but I have nothing beyond this quip to convey” person. So the idea that I run .. hang out, really .. with these guys is insane to me. Surprising. And lovely all the same.

Saturday morning, we were all at a quick clip for a five minute burst when we turned down a well-manicured street that was entirely covered with mature sprawling trees. The patterns through the leaves left lovely lace details for our feet and the breeze through the residential sprinklers was so welcome.

Our resident male remarked, “Y’all. This is downright holy.”

And he’s right. It’s our own little church, where we find fellowship and peace. We cleanse ourselves of the wrongs of the days behind us, and we prepare our bodies for whatever lies ahead. We take deep, restorative breaths. We hydrate. We occasionally stumble, and our brethren pick us up. At the end, we all hug and wish eachother well in the coming days.

It is not yet 9 miles a week. But my GOODNESS, it is definitely a necessary accomplishment.

Comments { 3 }

Playing Catch-Up Since it’s Already Tuesday

By on April 24, 2012 in The Looker, The Mommy, The Runner

Remember how I said I was feeling a little .. unappreciated on Friday?

This kinda cured that.

So on Saturday, I had my big race. I say that, but I’ve run 5Ks before. But I’d worked REALLY HARD on this. 1) I’d started running with a group. Which is not only a giant step toward a fear of mine, but it gained me some great friends. 2) Um, I was diagnosed with asthma during this. So.. that was kind of giant. And even though I’d “run” a 5K not two weeks earlier, this was My Big Race.

I ran into Miss Zoot and her kids at the race store on Friday afternoon when Tony and I stopped in to pick up my race packet. The kids mentioned making signs or something, which I giggled at because HOW CUTE THAT THEY DO THAT, RIGHT? So sweet!

And sure enough, on Saturday morning, I had kids holding up signs that said GO SARAH! GO SARAH! and even FEATURED A PICTURE OF MYSELF ON THEM. Oh, guys. You know how the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day? THAT.

In general, my time was not my best, but I had some trouble breathing right out of the gate. But I did it. I did a training program – WITH OTHER PEOPLE – and I ran a 5K. I stuck to my intervals (give or take :15 or :30 seconds), and I did it. I did not die. I did not feel like death warmed over at the end.

To the contrary, I actually planned our next 5K. (May 5th.)

I know that a flaw that I have is that I’m not good at asking for help. Or attention. Or anything. I kind of just .. EXPECT people to know what I find important. So when I realized I had no one at the finish line cheering for me? I was hurt, admittedly.

But I had folks. I had LOTS of folks.

If you’ve ever considered doing a No Boundaries training program, I cannot say enough good things to encourage you to bite the bullet. The sea of blue NOBO shirts that cheered me on from the last mile marker in? Was astounding. Mentors circled back, running folks in. No one crossed the line alone. No one crossed the line in silence. And it just further cemented my feelings about running with other people: it’s totally, totally worth it.

Also worth it? Having friends who have great kids. Seriously.

****

My big treat for the big race was a trip to the salon, and I had been looking forward to it FOR-EV-ER. I think back fondly on the days, pre-kids/husband, when I would take my monthly trip to the salon for a cut and color. OH HA HA HA. Now, it’s box color all the way, with a cut MAYBE every four months. Which is fine! Really! I don’t miss it at all! (I MISS IT TERRIBLY.) But that’s okay.

I decided I wanted to brighten up my color because I’ve been feeling .. well, very frumpy mom. The running is starting to pay off, and I can see a change in my body, but that wasn’t enough. I have to look at my head every single day and MY GOD, it looked old. So old. So I wanted something a bit more .. funky? Young? I was basically trying to suppress my sudden urge for a facial piercing by going bold with color is what I’m saying here.

So I went in with three examples of the RED I was looking for. And what I left with was .. not.

(Also, see that piercing on the girl at the bottom left box? On her lip? It’s called a Marilyn, and I want one. Badly.)

Anyway, so I left a little bummed. The color execution was flawless and the color was GORGEOUS .. on someone else. I am just so fair and so pale that anything darker than, say, RED looks vampyric on me. Spellcheck is telling me that vampyric is spelled wrong, but I think I get my point across here.

So my options are to have the stylist try and correct it and .. yeah, no.

So I’m trying to pretend I’m okay with it. See how okay I look here?

No, seriously, I’m fine. I’ve washed it, oh, about eleventy frillion times so it’s starting to lighten a bit. And I only startle myself every third time I pass a reflective surface.

On the plus side, 1) I am now reveling in wearing bright lipsticks because my hair looks ridiculous, so why not?

And 2) I think I TOTALLY have the right to have another hole installed in my face.

****

A no-shit conversation I had tonight.

Tony: Momma?

Me: Yes?

Tony: Want me to get those bugs off of your back?

Me: Um.. are there bugs on my back?

Tony: Yes. There are.

Me: Okay, but .. like, real bugs? Or pretend bugs?

Tony: Bugs, Momma. On your back.

Me: WE’VE COVERED THAT. Are they real, or pretend?

Tony: Want me to get them off of you?

Me: Yes! Yes, either way, get them off of me.

Tony: Okay, hold still. I’m gonna use my sword. It should only hurt a little bit.

(SPOILER ALERT: MOMMA GOT IMPALED A FEW TIMES AND IT HURT A BIT MORE THAN A LITTLE.)

Comments { 6 }

Losing the Car (and an hour.)

By on April 18, 2012 in The Mommy, The Runner

I’ve talked before of The Mommy Guilt, and it hits me at the weirdest times. So instead of allowing it to take me under, as it usually does, I’ve started creating a mental list of things that I “should” be doing for my kid. And then I try to do them, under circumstances that work for me.

We live a mere two miles away from Tony’s school. Across from Tony’s (preschool) is a neighborhood elementary school. I see parents walking their kids to school on a daily basis – or walking home from school – and it makes me hurt. After all, my kid is at preschool from 7:45 to 5:00 most days. THAT SUCKS. I hate that.

So some days, I walk to pick him up.

The weather is kind of awesome around our town now, and although the pollen is still insane, it’s a bit cooler and the rain is a bit more frequent. And I’ve been trying to exercise more, so this works out well.

It’s a fifteen minute walk TO the school. And usually about a forty-five minute walk home.

The first day I walked to school, the kids were playing outside. As I approached, I heard Tony say, “It IS! It IS my Momma! Momma! MOMMA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

We’re walking home today, I told him through the fence. It’s an ADVENTURE.

I turned to head inside and I heard him tell his friends, “I’m goin’ on an ADVENTURE. YESSSSS!”

When I came onto the playground to round him up, the teacher laughed. “Tony told me you lost your car again.”

.. I .. wait, what? Lost my car?

So every day now, when I pick him up, he always looks to see if I’ve got shorts and running shoes on or heels and a skirt. He knows that the former means we’ve got an adventure in front of us. We spend our walk home chatting. Sometimes he pretends he’s a Power Ranger with a found stick/sword. Sometimes we recite traffic safety rules. Sometimes we make up songs.

And it’s such a powerful reminder for me to S-L-O-W D-O-W-N. I am an efficiency-minded person. I move quickly, all the time. I walk briskly. He .. doesn’t. He lollygags behind, stopping to explore some moss or blow out a dandelion or examine the eleventy billionth rock we’ve passed. And it reminds me that it’s okay to stop and look around. Because, you know, sometimes it saves you from being run over by a car. And sometimes it sends a Power Ranger your way to defeat the evil Low Hanging Branch Monsters.

Even though it’s an hour I could spend cleaning or doing laundry or getting dinner ready, somehow it’s an hour that I never ever find myself regretting.

Comments { 6 }

Cranky Sarah Reads the Internet

By on April 11, 2012 in The Blogger, The Runner

So! Words! I put them here!

I’ve only mentioned this in, oh, about every post since it happened, but my site is now blocked at my place of work. I’m all about forcing productivity, but you know? It takes me as long to type out a post – if that – as it does for most smokers to finish one cig. I’ve said for years that blogging is my smoke break. It gives me a mental break.

Now I don’t have that during the day.

I’m kind of blown away at how this has affected my mood at work. I’m very short-tempered now, quick to anger and slow to hold my tongue. In short: I am like an addict who has quit cold-turkey. There is no blogging patch to step down cravings.

As part of my .. recovery? steps? I don’t know .. I’m forcing time for myself. Typically, I work all day, then mother until the kids are in bed, and then my husband gets my undivided attention. No one has set this rule for myself but me, but I follow it to the letter or I feel like a HORRIBLE [insert responsibility here]. So now I’m trying to be better about taking time for myself to go running, or to sit down and write a post. I’m not saying I’m 100% successful, but I’m trying.

Also, I ran over 3.5 miles with my running group this week. It wasn’t easy and I wasn’t great at it, but man, did I feel like such a badass at the end of it. Like, seriously, I probably could’ve gone to an even four miles. Even more odd? I AM MAKING PLANS TO RUN WITH FOLKS AFTER THIS RUNNING GROUP IS OVER. There are about five women who I typically pace with on a run, and we enjoy eachother’s company and we were all, “Hey, let’s do this some more.” CRAZY PANTS, IS WHAT THAT IS.

I also feel the need to tell you that I hate running. Like, I contemplate suicide with every single step. I am not one of those runners who can zone out during a run and TADA! it’s fourteen miles later. I WISH I WAS OH GOD DO I WISH. Instead, every step makes me wonder why I even took the first one and every breath is so focused to get down to the bottom of your lung because even though I’m medicated for asthma now, there are still bad days where breathing is a luxury. BUT. Every time I finish a run and I cool down, I feel like I’m glowing with bad-assedness. Is too a word.

I drove away from that run thinking, Huh. I could do a 10K, you know? This is how addicts think.

Finally, I want to direct you to some stuff that I’ve been meaning to share with y’all.

First of all, my very sweet friend Linda has some well-deserved good news to share. I love Linda more than my luggage for many reasons, some of which being that we both have a gaggle of men in our homes but also when I wrote for her fitness blog, she did not flinch at my naming a post “Christ on a Cracker, That Sucked So Hard”.

Secondly, another sweet friend of mine sent me a happy text picture today that is not my news to share, but in celebration of it, I will direct you to the best single-purpose Tumblr since Paula Deen Riding Things: Chandler Dances on Things.

Thirdly, if that’s even a word, Bryan stumbled upon this late Sunday night and it made us both cry. When you have a little boy who’s just a tad different, you want the world to see the amazing things in him that you see. It happened when Caine’s Arcade received a flashmob.

Lastly, this post from Princess Nebraska. I .. I could’ve written this myself. Man, I HAVE written this in my head a million times over. But I never put together the last part of it until she put it down in text. And suddenly .. yeah. That’s me. I need to find me.

Comments { 10 }
← Older posts Newer posts →