No Luck

I don’t like wishing people “Good Luck!” for their races.

It feels wrong to me, so I stopped awhile ago. I don’t admonish anyone else for the sentiment, when uttered or written, th0ugh. I liken it to the appreciation someone has for being wished a “Merry Christmas”by someone who didn’t know they were Jewish. It is the sentiment that counts, right?

I know. I am mean, heartless witch. Such a nice way to offer support to friends and say “GOGOGO!”, and I am all “PFFFHT, no way, Sparky, you get nuthin’”.

Not exactly, and here is my explanation. I hope it makes sense.

I have been thinking about encouragement, and how I can best be that positive voice while staying true to myself and my beliefs, instead of an autobot cheerleader I feel I sometimes slip into. I want to be able to support my friends in an awesome way, just for them, each of them. Targeted and meaningful. I have a lot of friends that run now. Each of them have a special place as a positive influence in my life, each in a different way. So I want to acknowledge that.

Right… You can all call me nutty now… Writing this out makes it seem wayyyyy weirder than it sounds in my head. So… bear with me. Seriously… Why did I start  writing this post again? Oh right, because I want to share my strange and sometimes off-beat thoughts with y’all…

*ahem*… Where was I…

Wishing someone luck on a race, for me, feels like I am telling them that I hope a random, chance influence has a positive outcome during their hard-fought effort. OK, so maybe that is an overthink, but I base it on my own experience and efforts. See, when I hop into that corral, or toe the start line, the journey to get there is incredible. I worked hard, I planned. When I participate, finishing is a foregone conclusion. I will succeed. The achievement is getting to the race. The race is the celebration.

Luck has nothing to do with it.

All that time spent sweating and pushing myself has lead to this point, so I don’t need luck. I own it already. Yeah, *&%^ can go wrong, and it can suck *%$ when you can’t complete the challenge you trained for. But all that training and working and thinking was not for naught. Pick up, dust off, do better, right? (Sometimes I have a hard time with this one, and not beating myself up, but it is getting easier… I learned a lot at Tough Mudder.  I am trying to enforce this more positive attitude on my efforts at subsequent challenges.)

I assume this way of thinking for my friends too. I want to tell them I believe they own it too. That this race, what they are about to embark on, is the culmination of one heck of an achievement of miles logged, weights lifted, etc.

So instead of a “Good luck!”, I say “Have a great race!” or I focus my best wishes on an aspect of the challenge I know that friend is trying to meet. For example, if someone is trying to stay calm in the corral, I will say “Sending calming and happy thoughts for your race!” or if someone is trying to PR, I will say “Hoping your legs are super fast today!” or “You got this! RAHHH!” (or something to that effect, I may or may not do a little happydance if in person…).

It feels more personal for me to say that. it feels like I am providing my best support possible. Perhaps it is selfish, or silly, or I am a whackadoodle…

But it is me. And I hope it helps.

Chances

Folks who have been reading my blog for a bit may remember me talking about this guy: http://mustangsabby.wordpress.com/2012/11/27/walker/

I hadn’t seen him in awhile, and now that I am not driving to work, I was somewhat sad about that. he really would give me a smile every day, knowing he was out there, kicking %^$, and I missed that wee, one-sided routine we had. I know it sounds somewhat creepy, fixating on some random dude… Maybe… But those random people in our day to remind us of important things, or give us clarity…

I think that is totally not creepy, and awesome. Anyway… I digress, a little.

Today, I held a door open for him as we crossed paths in the Rideau Centre. I looked up just in time to register that it was him, and my heart just about leapt out of my chest.

I gave him a big smile, and looked waaaaay up (he is freakin’ tall, man!) and said “Good morning!”. I wanted to say “I think you are neat! I have seen you here and there and you are inspiring and awesome!” but that might have made him do the “Go away, tiny, crazy lady!” thing, so I kept it to a greeting.

He is still wearing the expensive brown shoes with the perfect black bows on them. His teeth are perfect and he has a lovely smile. Did I mention he is eleventy billion feet tall?

I was dragging my feet, tired from only 2hrs sleep, and wondering how I was going to get through the dreary, rainy day with sore shins, exhausted brains, and silly/needless worrying about “stuff” in my life. I was not wanting to walk the 1k from the Rideau Centre to my work, my hand sore from carrying my much-too-heavy laptop.

Seeing him has made my day, and my step was much lighter. With Sarah and Dimity chatting away on their latest Another Mother Runner podcast, suddenly the walk got easy.

Thank you, Mr. Walker. <3

Busses, Fitness, and Rudders

Been a tad busy the past couple of weeks. Who knew having a family and a job and a home and a garden and social life and running in races to motivate my fitness would be so time consuming…

Well we did, but jes’ sayin’…

Life is busy right now. Buuuusy! Take pity on me. Send me a maid, or some wine so the house doesn’t look so messy after a glass or three. Heh. Also, a sitter so I can spend time in the same room as my husband where we aren’t parenting, cooking, cleaning, working, or sleeping.

Thank God we have a sitter for Spartan. We get to spend some quality time together this coming weekend! YAY!

One of the changes of late that makes me feel busier is that I am taking the bus to work every day now. It is exhausting. I am not used to it, and as most of you know, I am an introvert. Being around people that much has been draining on me. I get home and I want to be left alone for a few minutes to recover from the people, overly loud headphone music, drone of the bus, exhaust fumes while juggling a backpack, laptop and whatever else I am packmuling home.

I try to time it so I am home alone for a few before the noise machineschildren descends from the car with my husband. I don’t always get that. Gah…

It is adding 3k of walking into my fitness day though! This is a good thing. I am also considering the odd fitness commute where I bus to a location and then run the rest of the way home. I have a great backpack for it now. It would add in a run when I don’t really have time for a run during my work day. Plus, I can rock the fitness look on the bus, and have people stare at me if I decide to wear my mismatched pink with my bright green pack and bright blue hat (which I have already done). That was fun, yo. I was the weirdo on the bus! Haha!

Being on the bus has given me time to think, and catch up on some podcasts, which is nice. In my pondering, I have discovered I feel a bit rudderless in my “training” since starting the month and a bit of packed-together races. I haven’t been going to the gym regularily, my twice weekly strength workouts are sort of once weekly… But I have kept running, which is good.

It started on May 1st, when I began taper for Tough Mudder. Two weeks after Mudder, I ran the Ottawa Race Weekend 10k. Then a week later was Mud Hero. Now, Spartan Sprint is looming, then two weeks after that is Canada Day and a fun 5k with a friend.

I am glad that 5k is my last race until September. At least, that is what I have decreed… We all know what can happen with me, a credit card, and an idea. Oi.

So to prevent signing up for anything before my Mud, Sweat and Tears 5k obstacle race in September, or to mitigate the impulsive “I can do that!” sign up twitch, I have been thinking about setting up an honest to goodness training plan. For what? Well, that is where it kind of gets fun. It is open ended. I have no distance in mind, not time in mind, no “goal”. I just want to train, focus on simply training, with a few stipulations:

- Increase my long run distance by 1/2 to 1k weekly (or biweekly, depending on how it feels)
- Increase my speed work to 1x per week (track workouts, intervals, FARTLEK, mix it up)
- Do hill repeats once every two weeks
- Get stronger via bodyweight and functional workouts
- Try and put my gym membership on hold until winter

I’ll follow this for awhile until I figure out if it works, tweak it, see if I can increase distance faster, or back off completely. My body will tell me what’s what. Right now, it is telling me it is pissed of at me. I may have a stress fracture in my right foot, my knees have been sore and stiff since Mudder, and my right shin splint nastiness is really, really angry. (Maybe I am pushing myself a wee bit right now? Nahhh… that isn’t it…)

I am hoping to take a week or so off of running after Canada Day, and perhaps focus on some different types of exercise. Take a break. Then, start fresh and new and looking forward with some new places to run, and some different running workouts to try, and my new “plan”.

I am going to try and get the rudder righted, so I can continue gaining strength in my body, and get fitter. That is the overall plan for this year. Simply get fitter, get stronger. Rarr, right?

I’ll get back to you on the Rarr… I need a nap first. <3

Mud in my Bra

I’ve sat on my post about Mud Hero for a couple of days. I know, I know… Bad blogger. Bad! And because I have… Well, its long, yo. This is the norm for race recaps, I suppose.

Before I hit “publish”, I wanted to see my race photos, is my short excuseanswer. I wanted to see if my memory of how dirty I was stacked up to the photographic evidence of said dirt. Oh *&^%, yes, it did.

I also like my photos. Yay!

In looking at them, I am concluding that this race has got to be the muddiest I have ever been. Not *&^%ing kidding. Not even as muddy as the time I went out back at the farm with my best friend in public school and we played in an old drainage ditch mud hole for hours before coming home caked, and got thrown in the bath tub together.

That said, I am really proud of my accomplishment this past weekend. No disclaimers, no “buts” in there. I am owning my effort, and I am really, really happy I did this race, and felt amazing for it, despite both knees being super sore, losing a toenail, having several new bruises, tweaking my calf and not being able to walk well on Sunday (glutes get a workout walking through mud, dontcha know…).

Yes, I was unbelievably slow (most folks did it in just under an hour, I was an hour and a half). Yes, I walked quite a lot of the muddy parts when others steamed past me. Yes, the young folks I carpooled with left me in their dustmud wake. And oh my stars, I had such a horrific head cold that breathing was really difficult, and running was pure torture.

But I finished. I completed every obstacle. I helped my fellow Mud Heroes through obstacles, and enjoyed talking to people, cheering them as we went.

I encourage you to go check out the race website. This is a Canadian company, Crazy Canuck Events, and this is their second year organizing Mud Hero races. There is one coming to Montreal the same day as the Spartan Sprint in Ottawa, and one in Toronto in August.

I recommend this race to first time obstacle racers, as the obstacles are very achievable, fun (Helloooo… there’s a Bouncy Castle!) but still challenging enough that you get a great sense of achievement completing them. I’m not sure if all the Mud Hero races will be as over-the-top swamp-like as this one, but if folks want a very unique muddy experience, and aren’t afraid of getting ridiculously dirty, this race is for you.

Below the cut is my recap of the 2013 Mud Hero Obstacle race, held at Commando Paintball on June 1st.

Virtual Hug – A Mini Post

I have another post I was working on today, but I had to get this one out there first.

I received such a whopping amount of kind words from my last post (http://mustangsabby.wordpress.com/2013/05/31/the-heavy-half/) both here and privately. It felt assuring to know I am not the only one who sometimes feels this way, and that none of my (non-virtual) friends think I am now a weirdo. (or at least, my weirdo factor hasn’t gone up… too much…)

I’ve often said this blog is my personal therapy, because writing *&^% down sometimes helps me to get it all organized in my head, and feel better afterwards. I do this blog mostly for myself, and to share my experiences with whomever wants to read out there in the world wide web. Will I ever want this place to go viral, like Beyoncé the 5ft metal chicken (Google it, folks), or become a full time gig? Nah… This is my space for me to simply put my words down, keep my writing muscle fresh, and share.

I’m so blessed to have such positive readers who do read, so to you, I say thank you.

I also want to say that because of the friends (some of who have commented here) I have made in this journey of running and fitness, I have been more my authentic self this past year than I have been in a long, long time. To be able to recognize when I wasn’t being truthful to who I was is a big step forward, giving me the courage to bust through the “you gotta’s” to just be me. Also meeting folks who are really 100% themselves helped me relax too. Maybe that is why I have been able to get back to blogging more consistently. I can express myself without fear of rejection. That lack of fear? Well, that has lead to me improving myself, not just being myself.

I was always too afraid to really proclaim my fun-love of rainbows and colour until getting back into running (Freak… Lesbian… Immature… what 30-something woman likes rainbows?). I used to be too nervous to go to group exercise classes (I won’t fit in… They’ll think I’m stupid… What if I can’t do it?). It had been a long time since I had met up with a group of strangers to go do fun things (I don’t know these people… I won’t be able to talk to them… they won’t talk to me…). Climb a wall or jump into water? (Heights… water… falling, drowning, dieing… Whaaaaaat?)

So all of that is pushing me forward and making me just “be”, even with some of the not so positive anxieties coming into play sometimes. All of this has got me here.

This is me, y’all. It is great. So thank you.

 

The Heavy Half

(Note: I’m getting all up in my emotionals today. Made a decision and it has made me think about the steps I have taken to be a better me. Please don’t think I’m sad or worried, y’all. I’m not!)

So everyone has been asking me “What’s next?” after my Spartan Sprint. Well, I have a 5k with a friend on Canada Day, but that isn’t what they mean.

I’ve had a ton of folks ask me when my first Half Marathon will be. And honestly?

I don’t know.

I had originally thought Army Run this year could be it, but then I took a good hard look at Running Me, right now. How I run, what I want from running, where I am in my running journey, and came to the conclusion that giving myself that goal by Fall was going to be a little fast. I have said before that I want to always run happy. I was worried that putting the pressure on myself to be able to double my distance by September would stop the happy.

So I have not signed up. I am ok with this. This is a big statement from me, and here is why (get ready for the emotional):

I had no idea this decision of when/if to run a Half had been weighing on me, socially. I felt like I had to make a decision, and please everyone. (I know, I know… not the case, but this is my brain, and it is lots of fun sometimes.) I am my own worst enemy when it comes to pressure. I am my own peer pressure, I suppose you could say. Heh. Now if only that pressure was to NOT eat the chocolate, it would be great.

*ahem* Anyways…

Since beginning to run with other folks last Fall, it has been life changing in so many amazing ways. The gratitude I have for the women (and some men now too, yay!) I run with really can’t be expressed. I have mentioned it before, but I could not keep going without their support. The friendships I have because of running are awesome. I feel whole again, after not having many close-friends once having kids. The first year living in Ottawa was lonely for me, even with a new husband and a new baby boy.

but that is past now, I’ve come a long way, baby.

When I was introduced to Run Club, and as I met and got to know folks, I found myself being swept up in a self-imposed pressure to participate and  be part of the group, run races and achieve with them when it came to longer distances. I wanted to be included. I wanted to be accepted.

This has been my issue since I was young. I always felt strange, weird, not “cool”, and would sometimes try hard to fit in, with the opposite results happening. I was always a target for bullies, rumours, and it was ostracizing. I made bad decisions, wanting the attention, and I was excluded, sometimes even shunned. Was it any wonder I hated school, for the most part, and dropped out when ^&*% in my life went South? I just wanted to belong, but couldn’t figure out how to, or how to talk to anyone about it. Kinda destructive, and more isolating than inclusive.

I had areas of my life where I did fit in, namely horses, running, and later on, my paintball adventures. But that “Do they still like me and want to be friends?” question always nagged me, and made me try hard to participate, be giving, amenable, and happy. Don’t rock the boat. Eschew confrontation. Always smile even when you don’t wanna. Be the life of the party. Don’t give them a reason to not like you.

Yup.

So, needless to say, I saw myself slipping into this mind pattern this past year, trying hard to “fit in” and “be liked”, and beginning to feel that anxiousness that comes from the whole question of “Am I?”. I fought it, and didn’t really talk too much about it to anyone, other than the Big Guy “upstairs” *points up*. Lots and lots of  heavy (internal) conversations happened on my runs. When I did participate, it was awesome and empowering, so the pressure was not all bad. But it can snowball, and it did.

I finally had to dial back my long runs this past winter, which made me unbearable to be around for a few days, and really affected me emotionally. I wanted to run as long as the other folks, tried, but my body said “Uhh, hang on, we aren’t ready for that yet.” and started to break down. The nights of tears and worries I had seem ridiculous now, but it was stemmed from the anxiety of not being able to do what my brain was telling me I had to, to keep my friends. Bottom line was, I needed to re-evaluate my plan, and it was the right move.

My body stayed injury free all winter and I ran all winter, with friends! Achievement unlocked.

I also toughed out SAD this winter while having interrupted sleep from a wee baby girl, job silliness, and dealing with hubs looking for work. I tried not to advertise it too much, or let it affect my social interactions (it sometimes did, or I broke down and talked to someone about it). There were days I just felt alone and down, and tried to push it away by surrounding myself with as many run friends, family, and social distractions as I could. Physical effort is a balm, and helped a lot more than I thought it would. Despite being so active all winter, I think the SAD did affect my net weight loss of zero over the winter, though.

So in saying I am not participating in a race that a lot of my fit friends are is a big, big deal, for me. Deciding not to follow is huge.

Thinking about what my next big goal will be has made me better understand the pressures I give myself to set goals of a tangible nature to feel included and accepted. I have thought a lot about how I need to set goals just for me, like I did for the Army Run last year. I also am acknowledging that I can slip into the anxiousness of acceptance. Thinking about when to up my distance to cover a half marathon has helped me recognize my anxiety and stop before it affects my day-to-day.

So I do not know what my next big running goal is. Whether it be a race, or a non-race goal. I haven’t decided. But when I do, it will be because I want to run it happy, and for myself, and then celebrate it with my friends.

<3

Kindness

I got an anonymous gift in the mail today. No indication who gave it to me. Whoever it was, thank you! They fit, and are just wonderful.

Random acts of kindness are something I attempt to do every day. Being nice to someone who is frowning, holding a door for someone when their hands are full, or taking time to tell someone they look nice, taking a few dollars and banking some coffees at the local shop, or buying “just because” gifts. It is important to do these things.

Someone did that for me today. It is most awesome.

A Dash of Colour

Clearly, I have a problem. I had to.

Bounce

Ok ladies… This post is for y’all who have issues with the “girls” when you run. So gentlemen, unless you enjoy reading about bouncing mammary glands, skip this one.(Who am I kidding?)

Yes, I am talking about my boobs online, in a public forum, which my family and random folks in my (non-online) life (maybe) read. Y’all, we call this an overshare.

You’re welcome.

The reason I am now melon-suppression-obsessed is that I watched the finish video of my 10k this morning as I perused my race photos (they are meh, likely not buying). I just about spit coffee all over my nice flatscreens at work and fell over laughing when I spied myself in the crowd of finishers.

Yes. Laughing. More like gigglesnorting and trying to suppress the out-loud guffaws and “Oh wow, I look ridiculous!” exclamations.

Now, many runners look at their finish photos and videos and go “EEK! Do I really look like that?” or “Ohhhh snap… terrible, terrible, terrible.” Although sometimes I think people like them, like I did after the Manotick Road Race (http://mustangsabby.wordpress.com/2013/05/03/proud/). Also? My husband’s photos are really nice. he always looks very manly and focused. Says me. I am biased. That is ok.

When I watched my video, I wasn’t sure what to expect, other than knowing my elbows would be out, my gait rather waddly, and a simple smile on my face. That would be fun to see, right? What I saw was bouncing. Swaying side-to-side, dramatic, waving-to-the-crowd breasteses. Yeah. I watched it twice to make sure it was indeed me. Wow. As my friend Katie has said (paraphrased), “It was rather National Geographic up in there”.

So, in that evidence there, I am now doubting my bra’s effectiveness. The bouncage was flying about more than what I actually feel when I run, and certainly, it was a heaping cupful more than I would like, based on the fact that I was wearing my favorite running bra. My industrial-strength Lululemon uniboober. My expensive Tata Tamer that feels snug and secure when I pry wrestle put it on. I love running in it, it is comfy, it feels nice, and I don’t chafe. But in that video is evidence it does nothing for my chest. Nothing.

How I am not in pain at the end of a run I have no idea because they had some serious momentum. Do I seriously not notice this at all when I run? I am cringing and body hugging myself as I watch the jolting up and down slamming of my sensitive bits. Ow.

So now, I ask the female Interwebs folk who come to my tiny corner and read my random wafflings… What do you wear to minimize the bounce? What brand of bra keeps you secure and immobile? Do you double up the uniboobers? KT Tape those babies down? And if you don’t have this problem, I am allowed, as a runner, to dislike you a little bit (just kidding, no hate, only love, yo…). I am now on the hunt for a better bra. Does it exist? Will I have to finance it if I do find it? (Who ever said running was inexpensive lied. LIED!)

As an end note, one thing I am very happy about today is that my first reaction was one of humour, instead of hiding behind my eyes and hating the images, and by proxy, myself. I think, in the last couple of weeks, post-Mudder, I’m starting to learn to let go of caring what others think when I am achieving, not worry about what I look like, because who cares, except me? I’ve left a lot of %$^& out there in the mud and on the pavement lately. Still a ways to go, because I still feel fat, short, and weird a lotsometimes… But I think I am learning to let the negativity bounce, and hold onto the good stuff that comes, with each achievement.

<3

Hip Deep in the Mud

My left hip hurt when I worked out today. *cue danger music dun-dun-DUNNNNNN*

And by hurt, I mean “OH %^&$, WTF was that? Did my leg just detach from my body?” kind of hurt. Funnily enough, I tried a quick jog to loosen up after the seizure inducing pain hit, and that felt fine. Just don’t ask me to get up and down from chairs, do squats, lunges, or anything involving a 90 degree angle in my hip joint. This will make me fall jarringly akimbo on the floor, screaming and clutching my hip like a fake-tripped soccer player.

Also? Doing plank from toes today hurt like a %^&$er and I was only able to do 30 seconds. Tonight, I am going to try some Pigeon to see if my scream can actually get high enough to break glass. We need a new front window. “I have no idea, Mr. Landlord, it just spontaneously shattered!”. A girl can dream, right?

What this boils down to is I really, really don’t want to have to go get it looked at or take time off until middle June. I have two more mud/obstacle races to wade through, being Mud Hero this weekend (http://mudhero.com/en-us/findanevent/eventottawa.aspx), and then two weeks to the Spartan Sprint Ottawa.  So I am a) Google-Fuing my symptoms (always a good idea), and b) pretending I can work through it, and it is residual stiffness from yon 10k just ran with glory.

After some searching, I have decided I do not need a hip replacement yet, and amputation is unnecessary. Focusing on the actual area of pain points to Greater Trocanter issues, like bursitis (not completely impossible, I do have arthritis in various places), or even an overuse strain. Great. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greater_trochanteric_pain_syndrome – An indication that tight IT bands can make it worse, and that strengthening #alltheabductors might help. This makes sense, since I know my IT bands and hip flexors get hella tioght after long runs. Fuel for my just-stiffness theory, except for the piercing pain part. That’s new. Joy.

So, once the pain has subsided from “Mother-of-God-that-hurts” to “I’m-really-just-pretending-to-be-Quasimodo”, here come the squats, deadlifts, resistance band leg lifts, and adding some sets on those abductor machine-thingies where making eye contact with anyone while doing reps is humorous and awkward. (You know what I mean, don’t look at me like that). Those are the days you wear black leggings to the gym, because no one needs to see all the places where you sweat, right?

Heh.

All this was perpetuated by hefting back to the gym today for the first time in a few weeks. I went just before Mudder, and haven’t gone back, preferring to be outside for light workouts between races, and resting. Way to use that membership, right? I decided today I would go and do a quick half hour workout, use the sauna, have a shower since I did not get to during this morning’s circus of crazy that was getting out the door.

We seriously need to be more organized in the mornings. Guh.

I did 10 burpees today before my hip said “Are you ^&$%ing mad? That HURTS!” and I stopped (which I wasn’t sad about, I HATE burpees). I have to work my way up to 30 burpees in a set by Spartan, so I know I can at least complete the penance for failed obstacles without dieing when I compete in the Sprint. Because, y’all, there is no way I am ready to climb up a mud-covered rope to ring a %^&*ing bell. I am hoping they don’t mind if I do a straight burpee, not a push up burpee, because if I have to add in the push up, we’re gonna be there all day.

Burpee, burpee, burpee… %^&$. Let’s just hope my hip feels better by then, eh?

Race Weekend Hangover

I find it amazing how each time I set out to run at an event, it is a completely different experience than the last one. Each time is fresh and new, with lessons to learn and insights to digest along with my recovery protein. I enjoy this aspect. I hope it never stops. If I do find myself feeling maudlin about doing an event, or gain no new knowledge about myself afterwards… It is a sign I need to shake it up, or take a break.

Always run happy. Take joy in the ability to run and participate.

That said, there is something about the absolute magnitude surrounding Ottawa Race Weekend that can energize even the most jaded of road race participant. The massive hordes of people, the mind-boggling number of triumphs and personal accomplishments, the sheer athleticism and grit, the encouragement from spectators… The celebration of running in this city, and seeing it in a new way as you cover the distance down streets and pathways.

Quite a number of my running friends, sweat sisters, and, well, my support network PRed this past weekend. Some of them completed first races, or ran a race distance for the first time. The excitement and celebration of all these achievements is infectious and I am so very proud of all of them. I have made a lot of friends because of this whole running thing… I love how we can bring it, own it, and shout it out together!

So, y’all who ran and are reading this: Way to go. I hope you wore your medal to work/school/playgroup today!

I ran the 10k (see that medal hung over my cubicle wall? Yep!), and my husband ran the 1/2 marathon, his first. I did not meet my time goal of 70 minutes, but did improve my time from the Manotick Road Race 10k by around a minute.  Hubs met his time goal of sub 2 hr, which I was surprised at, given he’s never run as big a race as this, nor this distance. I was positive for him going in, but was not going to be surprised if he was a bit slower. This was totally new for him. He had under-trained. I crossed my fingers.

He did just fine. He can barely walk today, and I am sure he will feel this for a few days. But I am proud of him. He says he now understands why people run the big 42.2. He casually mentioned he would consider it and I cringed. That is a lot of training, dedication to diet, and time away for long, long runs. We have wee kids and work full time. I don’t even want to think about the severe negotiations for workout time away from the family if he does do one. But you know I will support him if he wants to do it. *sigh*

That aside, we had a great weekend, pizza with some of hub’s friends from his box (Crossfit, yo) on Sunday, and naps all around on both days. We are both feeling accomplished and happy.

So, onto my race recap, right?

This run felt stronger than the last one, and I felt much more energetic during the run. Only had to gel once, at 6.5k (roughly), which was great. No PR on the 5k split, but I was pleased with that, as it indicated I went out slower, listened to myself instead of getting swept up in the flow, and was able to sustain a faster pace for the second half, for periods. I forgot my Garmin at home, so I could not keep track of my average pace, and I ended up picking folks to draft, then moving from them to others as their pace changed. It worked, but I was still a little all over the map.

Note to self: Never forget Garmin again.

This race, I never zoned out. There were too many people, both participants and spectators. From the start to the finish line, I was constantly thinking, looking, dodging, speeding up, passing, or trying to find a place to just run. So my head got busy as I ran, and when I wasn’t singing along to the lyrics from my music (in my head, not out loud), this was what my internal monologue was like (give or take a few swear words):

• Everyone around me looks like a much more seasoned runner than I am. I feel roly-poly. I can barely see the start line…
• This corral is packed. Why did I forget my Garmin? Where is my earbud thingy? Oh crap, no Road ID! I. Am. Disorganized. I. Hate. That.
• I like having someone to chat with at the start. I hope she doesn’t think I am nuts.
• Run your own race. Run your own race. runyourownrace. Refrain, Sustain, Freight Train! Go easy… Go easy…
• Step on the chip mat. Don’t trip. Ok, now we can run, right?
• Get. Out. Of. My. Way! Walkers on the right, people! Did no one explain race etiquette to you? if I have to dodge one more person, or get cut-off one more time…
• Ooh hey! Elgin St. Diner. haven’t been there in awhile. Mmmm… poutine.
• Is that Tracey? She wasn’t supposed to be running… No, but that girl’s got slippy pants! I miss my Run Club peoples. Ok, do like at Run Club, you ninny. Relax, breathe, settle down.
• Of course there is a Ryan Gosling “Hey Girl” cheering sign. *sigh*
• I hope all these little kids I am high-fiving don’t have colds.
• If I can keep those pink-shirt ladies in my sights, I am doing ok. *blink* Damn, where’d they go?
• I have to pee. We’ve only gone a couple kilometres. Great.
• If you added the total cost of all the running clothing, shoes and gear on everyone running here, right now… Wow. That’s a lot of money. Why do I care? I still have to pee.
• Hey I want her arm warmers. Rainbows!
• Why do people insist on running six abreast very slowly, chatting? Get. Out. Of. My. Way.
• Dude with the walking poles, you are tripping people flailing about like that! I get you are being active, props for doing the race, but why are you in the middle of the road?
• That is the third person I have seen with a head injury. WTF? Are that many people falling? Did they all get tripped by walking-pole-guy?
• Wow. That is a lot of green water cups.
• None of the police men are smiling. Its such an nice evening, everyone is doing amazing things… SMILE DAMN YOU!
• Why am I doing this again? I’m getting tired. This sucks. Shut up Inner Critic. I hate you.
• The turnaround! YES! A hill? *^&%. I eat hills. This is nothing. Rarrr!
• OK, that hill took my lungs away but I passed a billion people who walked up it. Hahahaha! *cough*
• Whee! Downhill and a corner! Oh no… Another head injury? Wow. Hope they are ok. That is a lot of blood. Just heard someone gag right behind me. They’d better be choking on a Gu, and not squeamish and about to puke on me.
• Back along the canal, on our way home! This feels like Resolution Run, only a lot warmer, and with less costumes.
• I am getting very tired. My legs hurt. I am not allowed to stop. I paid a lot of money to do this. I cannot embarrass myself by stopping now.
• I LOVE THIS. I AM DOING THIS. I am going to finish and be awesome! I AM ALIVE! Also? I love my Honey Stinger gels.
• The water station people look tired. And wet.
• Passing you… now passing YOU. Oh, here I come Miss Sparkly purple running skirt. YES! I’m coming for you, yellow run jacket. Look at me go! WHEEE!
• This part of the canal is very long and boring. Oh! Hey!  A shoe in a picture frame for people to touch as they pass. Strange.
• Why yes, I AM wearing underwear, thanks. I’ll smile anyways.
• 1.5k to go. 1.5k! 1 measly little k and a half! You. Can. Do. This.
• The signs every 250 metres near the finish are evil. Evil.
• My FAMILY! OhmyGodIneededtoseethem. My kids look bored, tired, and cold. My husband looks frazzled. He’s going to be grumpy. The fence is too high to get a hug! That sucks. Keep moving, wave and yell happily at them!
• Wait, what? That isn’t the finish line? It’s just a footbridge? Awww &^*%!
• I don’t want to raise my arms up. Remember to smile though… I just want to be done. Where is the ^&*%ing finish line?
• I did it. I FINISHED! I AM AWESOME!
• I need to pee.

Rain, Pain, and Support

I talk about my period today in this post. So, you’ve been warned.

You know you are in more pain than you can handle when you are curled up in the bathroom, crying, holding your head, after two days of on-and-off pain. You know you are desperate for relief when you have your husband dig through the medicine cabinet for the morphine you squirreled away after having your first child.

Half a morphine and I am out like a Looney Tunes character who’s just been conked by an anvil.

I’m a lightweight, it seems.

You know you are looking for some sort of distraction when you sit down to write a blog post, even though the pain of looking at a screen sucks. Because lying in a darkened room is Just. Not. Cutting. It. Anymore.

You know that you need to rebalance your karma when the weather and your period coincide on the same day and your body freaks the &^%$ out.

Yup. Welcome to my world this week.

I have watched my Facebook feed explode with friends going “Ack! Headache! Go away!” and I commiserate. The weather this week has sucked. We need the rain (hubs seeded the front lawn, rain please!!!) and I am ok with the humidity, I suppose.

But I have a race to run this weekend, kids to love, a husband to support as he stresses over his job big time (not bad stress, just the usual stress of new job meets learning curve + goals and demands), and a house that needs a cursory sweep. So a break from the pain in my head can %$#& right off now, mm’kay? The cramps that are reminiscent of my brief stint having contractions when I was induced can take a looong walk off a short pier.

Ok. Enough complaining. Yeesh.

Last night I was able to get out and have a lovely chat with a friend, do some shopping. My head was in agony by the time I got home (thank you overly-perfumy lady at Wal-Mart and the thunderstorm that hit just after I got home) but I did score a pair of CW-X ventilator shorts on clearance while picking up fuel belt bottles for my husband.

Finding the shorts takes a bit of the sting out of losing my beautiful Pro tights at Mudder, but hey… They died a noble, heroic death. I tried them on today, because I got a tip from Jen Yates, which basically was that when she was wearing the corset for her Lady Vador costume, her normally “kill an elephant” cramps went away. http://www.epbot.com/2013/05/can-corset-cure-cramps.html .

So today, in an effort to try anything, on went the tights, since they have a web across the tummy, which supports my c-scar pooch that likes to flap when I run unless it is tenderly embraced by industrial strength spandex. Hence the support undies that were thankfully under my pro tights at Mudder. A girl can never be too supported, no? Also? It hurts when it flaps, and I don’t like that (imagine that…).

Yes, I am aware this may be TMI, but y’all, I go for honesty here. How many Mother Runners out there have this problem? Flap away, cuz you aren’t alone, my dears.

Verdict? It works! My lower belly quieted down. In fact, the cramps are gone. Now, if only I could do something about the fact that I am retaining so much water, the skin on my upper legs is puffing out the bottom of the shorts. Yeah. Muffin tops on my knees. Not such a great look.

But, they are supportive, so I’ll take it.

So here is my plea karma, God, and whomever else want to listen. I have a 10k race to run, a husband to support as he runs his first half marathon, kids to cart around, and lots and lots of friends to cheer for as they run too.

I would like to achieve it without rain or pain, thanks.

Sharing Me

This week has been hectic, and I am ready for it not to be. Meetings, dentists, yoga, running, epic groceries…One last stop at the LCBO tonight… heh…

Despite my hectic week, and the longing glances at my couch and iPad, this weekend I have done some scheduling for us. I am sure husband has that “Grumpy Bear” face on because I am all efficient and wonderful planning our weekend.

Yup. He never mentioned wanting to do much other than cut the lawn and go for a long run so… Give me an inch, pal, and here you go! Your itinerary! Colour-coded and cross-referenced for travel time! Would you like it laminated?

Eh… Heh… yes, I am aware I have a problem.

However, If my husband (and my inner lazy girl) had his way, we would spend the weekend at home, and while I am ok with that, I know by Saturday afternoon, I would be going bonkers, and so would the kids. We need to do some stuff, activities, get out, be social. The dishes and laundry and lawn mowing can wait until evening. Besides, I have a tendency to want to “lounge about” on weekends in my comfy pajamas, and end up kicking myself when I don’t get done what I want to, or feel guilty when the weather is nice and I wasn’t outside being productive.

Yes, I used to live on a farm, why do you ask? *facepalm*

So… Out the door we go, family, so that we can be active, create memories, keep moving , and not waste this weather!

Saturday morning I am headed down to Carleton University (Early! gotta be parked by 7:45 am) to watch a friend compete in her first Triathlon. It is a cool event that has a “Try a Tri” category with shortened phases, to give you a taste of what the deal-io is. If I was a better swimmer or owned a bike…Right, like I don’t have enough on my fitness plate already… Another friend is running an 8k closer to noon, but husband already mentioned he would like me not to be out all day. Hmph. Ok, I understand. So I may not be able to see her and give her a “good run” hug. *sadface #1*

But I am getting ME TIME! MEEEE TIME! *happydance #1*

Sunday we are headed out to “The Farm” to see the garlic that has sprouted, decide what we are planting in our weed patch this year, and to go see my old horses. Well, one of them, anyways. The other one has shipped off to a boarding stable, perhaps to be reintroduced to saddle. That leaves two at home, which is an easier number than three to care for, for my Dad. Then it is off to a friend’s place for a run with her, and then some good food on the barbeque while our combined six kids crate havoc. My friend has just started running, and I am really, and I mean really, looking forward to putting shoe to asphalt with her and encouraging her. Also? I want to crush on her Kinvara 4′s. So pretty. So not for me. *sadface #2*

Ahhh social time and running. Excellent.

I am anticipating Monday the most, though. I am going riding! With friends! Husband is coming with the kids too, and we are headed to Captiva Farms for a get-together and some social time. There is a petting zoo and pony rides, and we are going to bring an epic picnic lunch. Hopefully my husband and the other husbands left on the ground when us ladies take off get along, and have fun. The kids will have a blast, I am sure. How can they not? Countryside, fresh air, sunshine (I hope!) and animals.

To say that I get to share this day with some friends is making me *happydance #2*. But the secret is, I have another reason I want to go. My children have never seen me on a horse, and this has bothered me for some time.

Something about getting up on a horse, and having my kids actually see me astride makes me kind of emotional, and excited to share “what mommy can do” with them. Horses were my world, my career, my passion… And I took a break from it all in 2005, when my horse died. So my children don’t know this part of me. My husband doesn’t really either.

I met my husband a few short months after my horse died, and by 2007 I was pregnant with our first. By then, horses, riding, competing, teaching, training… It just wasn’t part of my world anymore. I wanted it to be, but after a few failed attempts (and a very strange stint trying to volunteer for an equine sports group that left me kind of perplexed and disappointed) to get back to it, I accepted that with young kids, I had to alter my expectations. It is also harder when the person you live with doesn’t particularily like the equine species. We try to do recreational “stuff” together as a family, and he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to do that.

I find it a mix of strange and delightful that I am so excited about going for a simple (what most horsey folks would say) trail ride. It used to be that I rode every day, sometimes more than one horse. It used to be that hacking was part of the conditioning plan. Galloping with deer in the back fields was a regular occurrence. Colourful pieces of wood cupped together to jump over was every day, common-sight furniture. My world was eat, sleep, breathe horses. It was my first education, my grounding force, my savior, and my paycheque.

Which went right back into horses. They’re expensive, yo. $$

There is not a day that I do not sit down at my office, and wish to trade it for a “desk” made out of hay bales, muck forks and tack. I miss it so much. I miss the knowledge I had being put to use by my hands and head together. I miss the smell of a clean barn, the sound of happy horses munching hay, or listening to the cadence of a horse cantering. I miss the dirt-crusted sweaty skin, the horrific hat-head hairstyles, and even yes, the Spring shed. I miss the feel of muscle bunching for takeoff over a fence. The way whiskers feel on my neck. Or how much pride enters my emotional sphere when a good, hard day’s work is done.

I am planning on finding a place to take lessons once I can figure out how to afford it. I don’t want to compete, but it would be wonderful to school, and regain some of the skill I know I have lost. I want to present the opportunity to both my children. If they don’t want to, it is ok.

So now I have to dig out my gloves, my helmet and see if I still fit into my paddock boots and half chaps (I have had two kids since I wore them with any regularity, uh oh). I have no breeches that fit anymore, they have all long since been given away or turfed.

A long weekend of sharing. I am looking forward to it. All of it.

 

Keep Movin’

I found a new bruise in the shower this morning, and it is a straight line down the outside of my leg. I have no idea where I got that one. No clue. Glory Blades? Mud Mile. *shrug* I’ll add it to the gynormous ones on the inside of my thighs, and the mottled ones on my knee. Oh, and the sore spot on my forehead. Very strange… Also? I have a bruise on the ball of my right foot, right behind my second toe. WTF is that?

You’d think I wasn’t wearing shoes as I ran up and down that ^#@%ing mountain.

Arms and upper torso have come out unscathed, except for soreness. Which today, at Parliament Hill Yoga, was quite noticeable. That and my hips are wound so tight it is amazing I can even walk. I fully expected to waddle-step home from the flow session today. I only did for a bit. I think some pigeon might be in order for this evening after run club. If I can get down on the floor without falling. Someone might have to help me up after too. Heh.

And oh yes, even if it is raining, I am going to Run Club! For the first time, I don’t have a 20 minute drive to it, I can WALK! *cue happydance* I may impersonate the Tin Man whilst running this evening, be about as fast as my toddler at full speed, and may or may not be able to limp/drag myself home after, but a trail run with friends close to my home makes for one happy Sabby. I just hope the rain isn’t too heavy so no one wants to go run. That would suck.

Thank you for all the wonderful comments, and nice words about this past weekend. I’ve had lots of folks, my husband included, tell me that what I did was a huge feat, and I should be proud. So yeah, feeling a little better about it now, and letting go of the (perceived) failures of the day. My body is telling me what an effort it was, so yeah, my mind is finally catching up with it.

Damn skippy, I traversed 16k of mountain (trudge up, controlled fall down, jog the flat parts) and got wet. A lot. I know I gained some fitness from that. *flex* Ow.

I know I have some work to do on how I handle myself when my expectations are not met at a race. I have learned to Own the Run when training, but it is another story completely at a race. I used to get the same way at horse shows, until I learned to just do my best and let the rest fall into place. Hard to do when you have certain expectations, go into it, and then realize you were completely out to lunch in regards to your ability.

Mmmm Lunch… I am hungry now.

It is all good in the end, and the memories and experience are what I need to keep in focus. As I said before, I just needed a couple of days to process my achievement. And then, put it past me, shake myself like a wet sheepdog, and look forward.

Next up, Ottawa Race Weekend 10k road race.

Gotta keep movin’.

 

2013 Spring Toronto Tough Mudder Recap

This is a long post. My apologies, and go get a coffee. I’ll wait…

Ready? OK. Settle in, y’all, and click the spacer for my recap of Tough Mudder Toronto – Spring 2013.

The course map and obstacle list is here: http://toughmudder.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/13.15.11.ON-Spectator-Map.pdf for y’all to get some perspective on what we did.

This has taken a couple of days, so it is in snippet form. I may jump around a bit as I put it all down…

Repost: Morning Bus

In honour of my first bus ride to work in quite a while, I shall repost an entry I wrote on August 19, 2009.I rather liked it, at the time.

http://mustangsabby.wordpress.com/2009/08/19/fresh-carrots-and-berries/ is the permalink. Enjoy!

Fresh Carrots and Berries

She got on the bus this morning smiling, and stood for the twenty minute ride downtown, balancing awkwardly with each jerk forward and back. People stared into space, slept precariously in too small seats, or had the world blocked out by white headphones and music loud enough to deafen. She watched people with dark circles under their eyes, funny twitches, and frowning apathy studiously avoid interaction with one another.

No one was smiling. The sun was shining, the river beside the road was sparkling, and everywhere outside the bus people jogged, bicycled, and walked with summer fervor.

She stopped smiling.

She got off the bus amid choking exhaust, swirling people, and noisy engines. She walked through a mall full of things to buy, past evocative ads for items she would never want, and never need. She tripped on a homeless man, stubbed her toe on a sawed off street sign post, and dodged, just in time, a delivery truck pulling up to a store front. She was vibrating from the chaos around her, her urge to scream and run almost overtaking her.

The saving grace was the smell of fresh carrots and berries from a market stand, and she stopped to bask in the freshness for a moment, forgetting the concrete and garbage surrounding her. She wanted to unzip her skin right then, and walk through the reality portal, straight into the field with tilled earth and neat rows of produce, begging to be picked.

Never more than this moment did she want to go back to where she came from. To come home each night to a front porch light with moths beating themselves helplessly against the searing heat of the exposed bulb. To hear crickets outside her window in the evening, and be able to see the stars when she looks up on a cloudless night. To open her door and feel fresh, clean air on her face, and walk with fingers touching grass and flowers and wonderful growing things no matter which way she faced.

She could imagine the nicker of horses at the gate in the morning, the cluck of chickens pecking pebbles in the heat, the bleating of sheep following one another to nowhere, the soft lowing of cattle as they head to the watering hole, tails swishing flies uselessly. The buzz of bees in the flowers and apple blossoms, and the chirping of small birds in the lofty maple trees.

But reality is where she has her foot placed now, firmly on a marble curb, awaiting the change of a light to walk across. The dream of her past, and hopeful future dissipating with the blare of a stereo, and the distant whine of a siren. Funnily enough, even with the juxtaposition of where she was to where she wanted to be, she was smiling again.

Because, In her hand, was a paper bag with fresh carrots and berries.

 

Buttered Coffee

It is Monday of what I am officially calling “Mudder Week” in our house. Yes, teh funneh is not lost on me that on Sunday it is “Mudder’sMother’s Day”. *kneeslap*

Indeed, I am getting spoiled this weekend. I am getting away to a cottage and a ski resort where on Saturday, I am indulging in several cleansing mud and ice baths, some electroshock therapy, a massage using tiny rocks scraped across my skin at timed intervals, and some rigorous new-age calisthenics.

Just wait until you see my after-spa glow! I hear they let you keep the head band.

Ok, joking aside, we are less than a week to the Big Mudder. I am in taper, and I officially want to punch every runner I see. Why?

They are running and I am not.

This morning, the birds were singing, the temperature was near perfect, the sun was out… And I could not go for a run. My legs are twitching. Yesterday I was aching to go run, but… It’s not that I can’t, I just shouldn’t. All weekend, my shins have been super sore. Standing for too long makes them hurt. I am freaking outworried that my shin splints are back, and I have a crazy calendar coming up and don’t want to have to bail on a (already paid for) race because I am hobbling. Yes, I know, #firstworldproblems, but I’ve been working hard for this. I want not to be sidelined. I think my lower legs might just be massive KT Tape tubes by the time we get to Saturday. Also? My knees hurt too. ^%*$.

I have been icing, resting and slathering various ache relieving potions on my legs to see if one does the trick.

Verdict? None.*%^$.

Maybe butter would work, it soothes me when I’m feeling pinchy and out of sorts (read: omnomnom). Right. At least my skin would be silky? Because that is important for pain relief. Baby smooth gams…

On the subject of butter, my husband has been putting it in his coffee (unsalted, of course). I kid you not! He found this dude who had a thimblefull of yak butter coffee on some Tibetan mountain, had a life altering reaction to it, and now touts it as THE healthy way to “Bulletproof” you day, solve the world’s problems, have more energy than a 2 year old, lose weight, and most importantly, stay regular.

http://www.bulletproofexec.com/how-to-make-your-coffee-bulletproof-and-your-morning-too/ – Check it out. I would think this would be a great coffee for adventure racers/extreme marathoners/mountain climbers, or anyone who lives in an extreme climate, like Alert or the Mohave Desert and needs the calories to survive… But for us urbanites in four-season Ottawa? I dunno…Excessive much?

I tried some when husband made it, for fun. Oh.. Oh my… Butter? IN coffee? Two of my favorite things together? The clouds parted, the angels began to sing. It was glorious! I took my tiny sip of my husband’s coffee, but refused my own cup.

Yes, I eschewed it. I knew right then that if I decided I liked it, I would want it all the time and whoa Nelly… That there is some fat content! So I decided No. Nope. Not one bit. Eh… hehe…

GIVE IT TO MEEEEEE! *ahem*

I am fully expecting my husband will want to pack the Magic Bullet, butter, coconut oil and coffee grinds for this weekend. Maybe Sunday morning I will indulge, and put some Bailey’s in it too. Extra super Bulletproof Sunday Morning Coffee! Zing! Whee! *boing*

It is totally a thing.

T-5 Days folks. It is gonna be a long week. Send me links of funny cats and tried-and-true pain relief for achy legs. I needs it!

 

 

Proud

So…

I had a look at my race photos from the Manotick Road Race. They are finally up! YES! So excited.

When I found my pink and rainbow self in the first picture, I cringed. At this point, where the picture was taken, I’m running along, feeling fit, feeling in-the-rhythmn, feeling awesome… It was the part of the race where I felt fast, with it, and confident.

The picture? Oh wow… not so much.

I look…

Fat.

Yes, I said fat.F-A-T.

I covered my eyes, peeking out through my fingers and thought “Oh wow… I don’t feel that fat when I run…” and then the disappointment set into my mind. I kept scrolling immediately, looking for pictures of friends, sending them links when I found them, but sinking into my chair, near tears. How do I look so utterly round, bloated, and jiggly when all my friends look so amazing in theirs? Why do I critique myself so much when I look at pictures, but when I look in the mirror at home, I don’t feel nearly as ashamed or horrified?

Why does the camera add ten pounds? Tell me this, sciency friends. WHY?

Then I saw my finish photo. Remember how I said it was going to be awkward and dorky? I saw it, clicked on it, and waited as it loaded with no breath leaving or entering my body. I was prepared to have to hide at my desk crying because it sucked so much.

Well it doesn’t. Not even a little.

That finish photo erased the crapton of negativity I had looking at the previous photo. Why?

This is why:

Yup, this is a picture of me. All of me, not just my ear, my hand, or my feet. The very first one I have ever posted on this blog. Some of you know how hard a decision this was, posting something identifiable up here. (let’s hope it doesn’t come back to bite me on the arse!)

But I did, and here’s why.

I entered this race on a whim, to have a training run somewhere fun, be with friends. I ended up having an experience that has re-solidified and encouraged my journey.That photo shows exactly how I feel right now, sitting here, typing this. Yup, more emotion from me, but %^*$… When am I gonna get a finish photo like that again, that I love so frickin’ much I want to paste it on a billboard?

I bought the lumpy, awkward running photo along with this one because ^&%*, I owned that run. I did! I PRed, I felt good, I had fun! I don’t need to tear myself down,  hating a stupid photo of me round and funny. Focus on the feeling . Be strong. Own the run. All things I have said before and today, I drilled them back into my head by writing them down and sticking them up with bright Post Its at the bottom of my monitors.

That that, Inner Critic! *HIIIIYAH!*

I’m &^*%ing proud of those photos, and I’m proud of me today. Just this morning I was having doubtful thoughts about my fitness level for my goal in a week. My shins hurt a lot (I think I may have aggravated my shin splints, ^&*#), I am curbing my running until then to help them heal. I am worried the complete lack of running will make me lose fitness and stiffen up before next Saturday.  But… Seeing these today was the shot I needed.

Bring on Tough Mudder!

Tiny Running Shoes

I have begun the packing list for Tough Mudder. When my husband reads this, he will sadly shake his head and chuckle at my ever-lovin’ overplannin’, organizational obsessive self. Yes, I am creating a list of everything that has to go. I love being organized. I love being in control.

Which you would not think I am capable of, given the state of our house right now.

The weather is nice, which means we are not in the house. Hence no housework gets done. We are attempting to get it clean this weekend so that when we straighten up to leave for Tough Mudder on the 10th, we won’t a) have a mountain of housework that sends us into a spiral of defeat, and b) come home to stinky garbage, dishes, and mayhem (or at least minimal mayhem… We have kids) .We try to do this before every trip away. It doesn’t always happen, but hey, goals and stuff, right?

Right now I would give anything for a dishwasher, a Roomba, or a housecleaner.

Last night we dragged both kids out to Run Club. Husband ran with another husband, pairing up well. They seemed to match pace, and my husband was all zen and happy (until daughter would not sleep) after. I was super happy to finally get my husband to come out, and help him get a run in this week. He needs to get going on his Half training, and even though he works out 3 to 4 days a week (Crossfit, yo), I am worried he won’t have the long runs in to meet his time goal for Race Weekend. I need to stop worrying about him, and worry more about me, right? Heh… Yeah. Moms who worry about everyone else in their family before themselves? What woman does that? Pshaw…

Anywho, I walked with the kids, and they ran around and had a blast. I am glad I dressed my son in orange, so I could see him when he was running too far ahead of me. I am glad the other walking moms were ok with him tagging with them while I walked very slowly with a determined little girl who would NOT get into the stroller. She wanted to run, so run she did.

It was kind of adorable. She insisted on rainbow pants for her run too, even though I tried to change her into shorts. Rainbows! Wonder where she got that from…

We got home past their bed time, ate, and by 9 pm, my son was passed out. We didn’t even get to bathe them, and elected to shower with the kids this am (that went over super well… NOT. We’ll change the sheets tonight). My daughter? Hokey Doodles. She was wired. Let’s just say last night, nothing got done. The kitchen looks like a bomb exploded, the living room has shrapnel (aka toys) strewn everywhere, and don’t even ask about the laundry. I left for work this morning feeling harried, stressed, and wishing I could just stay at home and get some freakin’ cleaning done.

Or a nap. equally as productive, right?

But, last night, we were outside, in the gorgeous weather, being social, being active, and I LOVE IT. So much more important than squeaky clean floors, when I sit back and think about everything we need to do in a day. Yes, the mess is a little irritating, and I wish I had more energy once the kids were in bed to straighten up and such… But when I told my son he was going to Mommy’s Run Club, he got so excited! My daughter, once her tiny Nike’s were on, looked at me and said “I need to RUN!”

This is a major parenting WIN, and erases the Yelly Mom #parentingguilt when my son won’t get dressed, the exasperated sighs as more milk gets spilled, or the frustrated toe-stub on a book that I can’t see because I am carrying a two year old who screams and screams until she gets her “UP!” at the worst possible time, i.e. I have three other things in my hand.

They want to run, they want to be active, and they want to do it with us. I will put off shaking Cheerios out of the booster seat every time to go do that  with them.

 

Daffy for Spring

Wonderful explosion of scent and colour makes it official! Can’t wait for Tulipfest! Spring! Yes!