Monthly Archive for November, 2006

2006 Seattle Half-Marathon, Part II

It appears I may have communicated with a bit more negativism in my previous post than I intended… The pain made me do it! The pain made me do it!

I had so much fun. So stinkin’ much! My 2 favorite memories:

1) Discovering at the half-way point we had maintained a skintight-less-than-10-minute-mile average up to that point.

2) That moment just before the finish when I told Katie I felt like crying, and she nodded… Stinkin’ beautiful… You had to be there.

C) Seeing our guys, with the kids, in the rain, waiting at the entrance of the finish.

D) Trash bags - to keep us a bit drier.

5) Cones and mile markers - the cones in the road proved to be a bright distraction… True, there was lots of beautiful scenery to look at, bit the cones ended up being my main focal point. The mile markers kept us motivated as we realized we were keeping up a great pace.

6) Space blankets… who knew something so not-fuzzy could be so warming!

7) We caught the ferry we needed, and had no problem with parking downtown. That’s big.

H) Passing people. More specifically - passing runners that looked runner-like. Oh, yeah, that was a good feeling for sure.

Enough of the positivism! I’m probably gonna lose 2 toenails. It seems my little friend Katie hasn’t been feeling quite as sore as I. I have a theory though… she is at least 1-2 inches taller than me. It is apparent my body had to work much harder to keep up with her. Obviously, with such a dramatic height difference, I had to take 2 strides for every one of hers. Obviously :)

The Stats:    2048/3468 (women’s half division)     384/625 (age group)      2:18:42 (chip time - when I actually crossed the mats)    2:22:09 (official time - from the horn)   1:08:39 (halfway split - official time) It took us about 3 minutes to make it to the “start” timing mat after the the horn. It was packed!

If you’re interested, you can sign up now for the 2007 Seattle Marathon - if ya wanna… Maybe I’ll see ya there. My toenails should grow back by then :)

Half-Marathon, All-Done

So… I did it. And I was not alone… over 10,000 others were there too. Most importantly, Katie & E were with me - all 3 of us in our matching hot pink shirts. We even hat matching pink hats!

Where should I begin? Should I start at 4 a.m. when my alarm went off? At 5:20 when the ferry headed for Seattle? At 6:30 when we reluctantly got out of the car and into the freezing rain? At 7:15 when we tore head and arm holes into our trash bags to help protect us from the wet rain/slush/snow? Maybe I should start with running onto the onramp of I-90, or running into the I-90 tunnel and hearing countless wet runners whoopin’ and hollerin’ (I didn’t, I was trying to conserve energy!)… Maybe I’ll start with the people on the side streets that cheered things like, “Keep going… You’re doing great… You’re halfway through…You chose this…This hill is fun - crazy fun!!!” I could tell about the sign one man held that read: “Run like you stole something”… I could start at the halfway point when Katie and I discovered our split for the first half was 1 hour and 5 minutes - which meant our first 6+ miles were done in just under 10 minutes per mile! We had thought 12-minute miles would be acceptable :) I could start out by saying we ran the entire distance, except for maybe 1 block of a super-mean hill…

The hardest part prior to the race was getting into the cold. Not just that - the WET cold. Once our bodies accepted the unavoidable fate - it wasn’t so bad. The trash bags helped, and the great mass of people surrounding us at the start line either added warmth or just a sense of excitement that overshadowed our physical discomfort.

The first half of the run went very well. Come to think of it, miles 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and even 12 weren’t bad. Actually the first half of mile 13 seemed rather easy. But then… but THEN… Though that last half-mile and one tenth was flat - that distance seemed to run through a street in Hell. I kept thinking, “Only 5 more minutes, only 5 more minutes…” But it seemed like the clock in charge was hanging on a wall in the Twilight Zone. My head became foggy, my legs felt like lead, my back ached, and it felt like we would never reached the end.

Then we saw our hubbies - and the load of kids… yelling and smiling. A dozen or two strides later, we entered the stadium, and our feet met Astroturf. I looked at Katie and we smiled. I said, “I think I’m gonna cry!” Finish…

Then my body began to kick and scream and yell in ways she has never dared challenge me before. My upper legs, back and butt cursed at me by pulsing in pain. I grabbed my space blanket, because it was FREEZING and had only realized how freezing it was during that last half mile on that road in Hell. I grabbed a water bottle, and as soon as I took a drink, I felt like vomiting. I felt like vomiting for hours after. It was almost as if it was worse to stop running than to keep on! We went to lunch and my stomach growled for meat - protein and substance. Gu wouldn’t cure this! Yeah, no. Food didn’t make anything better, only worse.

It has been 13 hours since the start of the race, and nearly 11 since the finish. I am still a little nauseous. My legs only hurt when I use them:) I’m exaggerating, a little. Going downstairs hurts the most. I am surprised that my biceps hurt. My abs got a charley horse while changing into dry clothes after the race - didn't expect that.

Some stats - my finish time was 2 hours and 18 minutes. When signing up my goal time was 2 hours and 45 minutes. Our overall pace was about 10.5 minutes per mile. We passed some folks, were passed by some folks, had to adjust my timing chip once, avoided the port-o-lets and weaved about through the mass of runners quite a bit - especially in the beginning. But we ran the entire distance - 1.5 minutes per minute faster than we hoped to :)

Call me crazy, but I think I’d like to do it again. Despite the discomfort and anxiety, it was fun. My “team”, the goal, the exertion, the thrill of the challenge, and doing better than hoping for :) It just feels satisfying… and I couldn’t have don it without Katie, E and the total support of my dashing husband…

Tomorrow is the half-marathon…

and the forecast says there is “a chance of snow.”

Super-duper… If I only had a Camelbak to fill with hot coffee…

We need a “safety”…

Way back in August, maybe September…

“Whisper, whisper, whisper…” was all I heard as I watched my son poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke his friend. His friend was trying to tell his mom something of utmost importance. Poke, poke, poke, poke, poke…

“What did he say?” I asked my friend.

Her son turns to me and says, “You don’t have any doorknobs.”

True. We have door handles.

What on earth was so important about a doorknob? Well, if someone toots, they need to say “SAFETY”. If he/she does not say “safety” in time, the hearers of aforementioned toot yells, “DOORKNOB!” and poking commences. The poking continues until a doorknob is touched.

Joel’s buddy was in a quandary. A maternal decree was handed down:

If a doorknob is not available, a door handle is an acceptable substitute. Additionally, a knob on a cabinet does not fall into the “acceptable” category. The knob or handle must be on a traditional door.

and the proverbial gavel fell…

10 miles

2 weeks until the Seattle Marathon, half-marathon that is… Katie and I ran/walked 10 miles today. Our route this morning was pretty hilly, so we took advantage of the opportunities to walk. I was sad to find that despite the last number of quite rainy days, it was NOT that way this morning. We’ve run in the rain before, but the rain lately has been quite impressive. However, there was actually visible sky at 6:15 this morning. Drats :) No out. Consequently, the clearer the sky, the colder the air…

3 things worthy of noting…

1) My knees are acting twice their age, but it is most detectable when climbing stairs. I saw a physical therapist yesterday and he said my outer thigh muscles are stronger than the inner muscles (I don’t know the correct terminology - it sounded a lot like “kneecap schneecap aggravated by muscles schmuscles”). In short, the stronger outer muscles are pulling my kneecaps to one side. So, I need to take some time to build the inner ones. About continuing to train, he said, “There are always natural consequences to consider…”

2) Katie has a bit of an injury of sorts - so we kept that in mind too. With my ailment and her we were careful not to push so we don’t jeopardize our goal.

3) Granted, we were working on our 7th mile, but a gentleman fairly advance in age passed us. When I say advanced, I mean genius “advanced” - when you consider our physical activity. He was probably 75. We felt a bit poorly about ourselves when he got ahead enough for us to see it looked as if he was making progress with an exaggerated shuffle. I wondered how we must look. I wonder if he’ll get a kick out of telling that story at the Bingo Barn. He’s probably not the bingo type. In defense, we were on mile 7… and he had just begun…

Next Saturday - 11 miles. I kind of hope for torrential rain. But then, I love the time Katie and I get to visit. AND here was a big bonus for today - I ate 2 huge pancakes and 4 sausage links guiltlessly!

Celebrate the Tummy ???

Joel said he had a dream. He said he walked through a door and into a big room. He said that “there were a hundreds” of really big people. His choice of words was a bit less politically correct… You know, “Buddha” chubby. He said all of the people were sitting “criss-cross apple sauce” and rubbing their bellies. The people chanted, “Celebrate the tummy… Celebrate the tummy…”

As if the dream didn’t give me a good chuckle, I overheard Olivia telling her brother, “I don’t celebrate the belly - I celebrate God!”

A couple of days later (today), the kids and I are reclining on the couch, finishing a book about the “First Comers” (Pilgrims) and Plymouth Rock. We learned how, in the name of remembrance of the first people who landed on/near/around the rock - Plymouth Rock was broken and moved and broken and moved and moved… Over many years people seemed to put a lot of time and energy into this physical piece of American history.

It seemed Joel thought it odd that a rock would be given so much attention… for at the end of the book, Joel inquired, “So, did people celebrate the rock?” I said, “It sure looks that way. Is it right for people to celebrate things? What is the only thing should we be celebrate?” Like Olivia said when she first heard Joel’s dream, they both answered, “God”.

Hostess Snack Cake Sushi

While neglecting the home education of my son (in my defense, I was researching cheap, yet charming cafe’ curtains…) I found Not Martha. Somehow, I stumbled upon the “Hostess Snack Cake Sushi” page. Now, this is the kind of sushi one might catch me digging into… you gotta love faux food! Not Martha gives a whole listing of faux sushi sites to visit, gonna need to check those out later though!

The end of our 9 mile run…

Katie said to me, “It looks like you have a little bounce left!”

Me to Katie, “Nope. I’m pretty sure it’s my limp.”

Like Good Chocolate

Clean makes me happy. It is almost as exciting as chocolate. I’m not kidding.

Just as a really good piece of chocolate (dark) sets me twirling and smiling and humming a happy food tune - I am learning having things clean and organized puts me in a similar mood.

I noticed, the other day, after a good cleaning of the mudroom and laundry room… I danced. I danced about like a Barbie Princess Ballerina. I smiled. I breathed deeply and felt clean on the inside as well. I found I kept going in those rooms just to stand. As I stood, I looked around with quiet elation. I breathed in the air of organization, and spun in grand, wide-armed circles - reminscent of air freshener commerials shot in field of wheat.

I try to talk myself out of the need to keep things tidy and organized. You know… the stories about how we moms will miss those fingerprints on the walls when they are gone. Or… how we spend way too much time cleaning and not enough time investing in our kids…. I don’t dispute the argument. I need to play with my kids more. I try to give myself the emotional permission to let things go. If anyone was to “pop” in unannounced they would never know I like things clean… But for the most part, I really don’t mind if people see the mess. It’s not my first choice, but I don’t cower and shrink, nor do I feel like a failure for weeks after a surprise visit. I really just like “clean and tidy” because it makes me feel like I’ve been eating good chocolate. Ummm… by the way, the only “good” chocolate is dark chocolate…

Here’s what I’m trying to reconcile - the physiological response I have to all things tidy and the physiological response I have to cleaning - haha. I think I join the masses when I state, I don’t care for cleaning. There are many other things I would prefer to do. In all seriousness, I feel like God gave me this little part of my personality. Not only do I feel lighter when things are in general order (not perfect order), but I find it difficult to make decisions when most of my physical world is so cluttered. How do I pair the chaos of life with this piece of who I am? I know there is a balance to be had. I feel I work harder on denying this “thing” about me and end up more miserable in the end. I almost feel like I am expected to let things go becuause of this season of my life - life with young children. That makes me crazy.

In conclusion, there is none. I guess there is one thing… I think - this need I have is an integral God-given part of who I am. I think - I don’t want to fight it anymore. I just want to find a way to accept this. I’m am tired of working against the tide. There is joy to be found in this aspect of me. There is nothing quite like being able to find something because it is put away where it belongs. I am much kinder when I am not frantic.

I have no idea how to change direction. It’ll have to be gradual. I must balance many worlds - the world of my personality, the world of the 3 little people who call me “Mommy”, and the real world. I must not make my personality-quirk/trait a stress or burden to my family. I think Olivia thrives in chaos. Joel loves order. It seems Lucy is a lot like her big sister. What I do know is denial of this need has not been working for me. It’s time to try something new, and live in that “good chocolate” feeling a little more.

But of course…

On November 1st - the day AFTER Halloween… I found the belt for Olivia’s costume and the pumkin carving tools.

Of course…