I get a small, evil thrill out of watching drivers run a red light or pass me then catching them at the next light or stop sign. You dumdum.
Radio story: a man was reported missing 12 hours after he was last seen getting drunk in a bar and walking into the woods. Several hours into a search party looking for him, he notices people walking around the woods and decides to help search. He doesn’t realize they’re looking for him until they began to call his name. Then he says “It’s me!” More time passes before someone in the search party can accurately identify him.
Moral of the story: if something terrible happens to me, please include several people in each search party who can identify me before I’ve spent hours searching for myself! P.S. this happened in Sweden or Denmark or somewhere nowhere near me.
Texas is still very confused about its climate. Typical. We went from solid upper 80 daytime temps to low 50 nighttime temps. Beautiful! AND THEN… someone opened up the sun to full blast again and we nearly had a new record 100° day. At the time of this writing, I don’t know if we broke a record or not. Nonetheless, it was so hot and miserable and I was dreaming of cooler days.
Impatiently waiting. Still.
I ask you –
What’s your evil thrill point?
Have you ever been missing?
Humor me: tell me the average daytime highs where you are right now!
I’m what some may consider a clockaholic. News to me. Wish I could quantify the facial expressions of people around me when I stated I like to remove the batteries from the clocks and set the time permanently to a meaningful number in my life, like my Dad’s birthday.
It’s not a struggle (yet) but it definitely doesn’t come easy – properly fueling before, during, and after training. I know I have to eat to be strong in order to accomplish my goals. Mainly the 2:10 goal. It would “just” be an 8 minute PR, but 8 minutes over the course of 13 miles does not leave a lot of room for error. But pre-run fuel is not my happy place. As I type this, I’m eating toast. Solid, simple choice. But I’m laughing (ruefully) because I ran nearly 5 miles recently on nothing but a scoop of peach jelly. You’re an idiot, Kel. That’s not proper fuel! I’m trying to do better.
The following is a sentence I never imagined I’d say. Certainly not at work. “Why are there ants in the toilet?” And apparently the high bun I wear when a) I workout, b) I don’t feel like washing my hair, and c) I’m trying to get sh*t done – so basically all the time – is what mini refers to as “Mama’s pineapple hair”.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
I ask you –
Have you ever used a weird name to describe yourself?
Remember that summer I ate a sandwich every day for months? Welcome to Fall 2021.
Think I’m figuring out the proper fueling techniques. I haven’t been taking anything mid-run (of course the longest until this week was only 70 mins). Afternoon pre-run, I do well with a banana and peanut butter. AM pre-run, I’ve been on an overnight oats kick…mixed with a little homemade peach jam… delicious!!
Not sure why Garmin just now has me doing strides, but I guess wk 5 is as good as any. Ideal cadence was 150-200 spm. Seeing as how I don’t typically train this way, I think I did well! (This was also day 3 of consecutive runs due to scheduling conflicts.)
Long run of the week (Friday): a little over 8 miles felt great! Post-run smoothie made an appearance again. This time I used strawberry yogurt, a whole peach, ice, and orange juice as the liquid base. HOLY CRAP! It was delicious!
Usually long runs are on a weekend due to time constraints, but because of my own time constraints, I ran on Friday instead…which meant I ran, I showered, I fueled, I stretched, and then ran (not literally) to have lunch with my mini.
Of course she requested McDonalds for lunch. Not ideal fueling, but we – my legs and I – survived. The new week will be here soon!
I love blogging. Really, I do. And I love reading other blogs. Yeppers! But the ones who spend 6 paragraphs detailing the “best holiday desserts” and have the outright gall – that’s French for cajones – to include a recipe for Poached Pears is out of their mind. WHO eats poached pears? Nevermind…what is a poached pear? And for the holidays? No!
Fall is finally upon us. Admittedly I cried when I woke up the first day, remembered it was a Wednesday, and realized I don’t run on Wednesdays. Not all Wednesdays, just currently. I should have changed my training schedule, but I had a doctor’s appointment that day. At least it seems the 50s are here to stay through the overnight hours.
Speaking of doctors, the nurse quietly asked me if I was still breastfeeding. Mind you, we’d already discussed I had a 5 yr old. Way to go! – to the women still nursing five years later. However, I’m not one of them. Are you for real? – to the timid nurse at the VA. Glad she took my blood pressure before the interrogation.
My how time flies when you’re getting old and don’t remember when you graduated.
The last time I saw this stage was 2011 when I graduated from Wayland Baptist University with a Master’s degree. P.S. my phone changed “graduated” to some weird combination of those letters that made no sense and I considered leaving it like that.
For real? Yes, it sounds about right.
I ask you –
Is the phrase ‘for real’ too casual for professional conversation?
*You are worth taking the time to take care of yourself and do the things that make you feel alive. It isn’t selfish. We can’t help others if we aren’t taking care of ourselves too.
*Running outside in the shade in the upper 60’s is the best life for me!
*But what’s better than the 60’s? THE 50’s! Celebrated with a post-run smoothie after my final run of the week. Gorgeous Saturday morning, caught the sunrise and a fabulously cool head wind. Still got some work to do, but it’s getting there.
*Peach Banana Smoothie:
1 very ripe peach, cut into quarters, seed removed
1 ripe banana, peel removed
1 small container whatever flavor yogurt – I like to use low or no sugar
1 shot of milk
Some water, to your desired consistency
Whirl above ingredients in a blender until smooth (makes at least 2 smoothies)
*Today’s running friends – every duck in the state of Texas!
Considering this upcoming race. Coincidentally – or is it? – a trip to TN would enable mini to see her dad and family during the Thanksgiving timeframe.
No word yet on Morgan from Oregon’s plans to attend Run the Rail mid-October. Since I got the plague from hell in August, discontinued my run streak, and had to remember how to breathe properly, anything long distance before November is probably a no go.
There’s also Rock ‘n Roll San Antonio. The Stars at Night Half isn’t a viable option this year because it will be the same weekend mini heads back to TN for Christmas break.
Speaking of, I was a few paragraphs back, there was a week in there where I went to the doctor or was on the phone with a doctor at least once a day. They are nice and all, but I try to avoid, know what I mean? Anyway, I began to notice a troubling pattern. They don’t measure how tall adults are anymore. Yes, they ask how tall you are, but they don’t physically verify. Two problems: 1) I could be lying when I say I’m 6 ft (yet she didn’t even blink an eye) and 2) hearing the words “You’ve grown” isn’t exactly a compliment as an adult. Bet she didn’t really write down 6ft on my chart. Hmmmppphhh.
Relatedly, sort of, in the Navy they called shoes “go fasters”. The more I think about it, I realize that was the ‘kind, new Navy’ saying something positive about passing a PRT, etc. because I have never called my new running shoes “go fasters”. Instead, I internally refer to them as the shoes that will kick someone’s a**. I will outrun a cheetah in my new shoes! I am faster than Olympians in my new shoes! There’s a meme circulating on social media that says something like…why doesn’t anyone ask me (as an adult) how fast I can run in my new shoes…and I totally agree. It’s BS. You better ask me!! And I’ll be happy to demonstrate. But sometimes I just ask my shoes to get me home. You know what? That’s ok, too!
Hotter’n Hell Hundred went off without a hitch, to my understanding. More like best guess, Kel. I went to my usual viewing spot and didn’t see a single thing. Not one kit-clad cyclist was located. For a minute, I thought I got the date wrong. Alas, my final thought was since the annual bicyclist event was not held last year, they had an extra year to work on speed and sped through the course in record time. It could also be because I slept in and was approximately 2 hours late to the location. Or I read the map wrong. Really, it’s anyone’s guess what happened. I’m going with extraordinarily fast cyclists though. Just pretend there’s a super awesome photo here of thousands of cyclists.
I ask you –
Any race suggestions? Or know of something I’m missing? Preferably early December.
Does your doctor ask how tall you are or take a measurement?
Participants in Hotter’n Hell Hundred next year – leave your name below so I can get insider information. I need an accountability partner!
My how the tides have turned. Are turning. Being turned? Right. Whatever.
As I begin to order leotards and make plans to purchase ballet shoes, I realize it’s definitely happening. Where has the time gone? The writing was always on the wall. Mini has had an interest in dance and performing arts since she exited the womb. Ok, maybe that’s a little dramatic, Kel. Close enough. Her little body moves and sings of its own accord – her joy is nearly palpable.
Who knows where it came from, but we all try to encourage it. I’m not tone deaf, I can follow – everything else is 50/50 – and I know nearly every Frozen/Moana/Brave/other mainstream Disney movie song. Sounds like success to me!
The toughest part, in my opinion, is nurturing her love for a sport (activity) I didn’t experience as a child. We’ve had the discussion about commitment aka if I pay for this, then you’re going to have to commit to it for the duration of the lessons. I was met with an “Ok, Mommy” knowing full well there will inevitably be a struggle somewhere down the line; I’m prepared. I remember playing softball as a kid (I sucked, btw) and begged to quit halfway through the season but my parents encouraged (explained harshly) I would finish the season. It was a good lesson to learn.
“Start and end with a positive and encouraging note; but have the courage to deal with the issues.” Much like any conversation: if we firmly, yet gently, encourage our children then the bumps in the middle are just par for the course.
Where’s that parent manual I was promised?!
I ask you –
Did you catch my (few) sport references?
What’s your advice for encouraging an active child? Dan, I know you’re reading this!
Best guess on how many pairs of shoes she’ll run – no pun intended – through in a season! 4!