I had a tennis match this afternoon. We always warm up before the match, and today our warm up court was outside. Right as I got to the courts, an hour or so before match time, it started raining. Great. No warm up today. Fortunately, I had my Ipad with me and cracked open an essay I had downloaded at some point in the past for just such an occasion.
The title, "How to Live on 24 Hours a Day" (by Arnold Bennett), initially struck me as a bit too self helpy, but it was a free download that had good reviews, so I gave it a try. I'm not sure when this essay was written, but it was before 1931, 'cause that's when Bennett died.
The essay itself is pretty short; I think I read it in about 25 minutes or so. He takes the idea of never having enough time in a day, and walks through a fairly typical man's day to illustrate where time is lost (on the train reading the newspaper, spending 30 minutes thinking about going to bed, frittering away an evening, etc.).
As he concludes the essay, his main point seems to be that there is a great amount of time lost during an average person's day (he discusses reading a newspaper as a main example, which I think would probably equate to television today, but that's just a hunch), but that time can be reclaimed to the vast benefit of the person. He steps through several activities he thinks "worthwhile" of reclaimed time, but what it seems comes down to is this: find something you are interested in, and go deep. Really learn about it, really think about it, make your brain work and think critically, and find out how much more interesting whatever your chosen subject is. Spend your reclaimed free time doing this, and you will find life that much more fulfilling and interesting.
On a similar note, I finished reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (by Rebecca Skloot) a few days ago, a nonfiction work discussing the HeLa cell line and its incredible importance to medical discovery since the 1960s. Towards the end of the book, there is a passage that discusses Lacks' childrens' reactions as they learn the rudimentary science involved in cell division. They are able to view their mothers' cells under a microscope for the first time, and a researcher takes the time to explain what is really happening in language they understand. Their reactions are fascinating to read about - they are thrilled and in awe at the new information.
It struck me, during this passage, how thrilling learning new concepts and information can sometimes be. And made me wonder why we sometimes stagnate, getting lost in the mundane details of the daily grind. Do we get lazy? Do we forget how fascinating the process of learning can be? Do we think there is nothing worthy of that much interest? I'm not sure what the answer is. I know I certainly feel stagnant sometimes, and it's sometimes hard to remember how to fight out of it.
I'm going to leave the essay on my Ipad for a while as a reminder to avoid stagnation in life. And also, every now and then, listen to an interesting little song I was introduced to the other day. A friend pointed me to "Shop Vac" by Jonathon Colton. If you get a chance, give it a listen. For some reason, these three things (the essay, the book passage, and this song) all feel connected to me. Or maybe I'm just exhausted from a long, fairly stressful week and I need to go have a drink. It is 5:00 after all...
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
Cold Froggy Kiss
This morning, the girl woke us up around 5:30 because she couldn't find Froggy (pronounced "Fwoggy"). I told her to go back up to her room, turn on her light, and look again. Five minutes later, she was back. Froggy was still MIA.
We climbed the stairs together to her room, the girl wide awake and practically bouncing up the stairs. Sheesh. It was too early for that much energy.
I put her back into bed, adjusted the covers, and searched around for Froggy for a few minutes, finally locating him between the bed frame and mattress. The girl was overjoyed to find him, and said she'd looked there but hadn't seen him. I gave her several hugs and she snuggled with me for a few minutes. Then she turned Froggy's face up to me and gave me what she called a "cold froggy kiss."
Most of the time, a cold froggy kiss doesn't sound particularly appealing. But after being gone a week and having her be so snugly and warm and happy? I'll take those anytime, thanks. I could probably start every day off with a cold froggy kiss, but could froggy please sleep in a little later than 5:30am from now on? Thanks.
We climbed the stairs together to her room, the girl wide awake and practically bouncing up the stairs. Sheesh. It was too early for that much energy.
I put her back into bed, adjusted the covers, and searched around for Froggy for a few minutes, finally locating him between the bed frame and mattress. The girl was overjoyed to find him, and said she'd looked there but hadn't seen him. I gave her several hugs and she snuggled with me for a few minutes. Then she turned Froggy's face up to me and gave me what she called a "cold froggy kiss."
Most of the time, a cold froggy kiss doesn't sound particularly appealing. But after being gone a week and having her be so snugly and warm and happy? I'll take those anytime, thanks. I could probably start every day off with a cold froggy kiss, but could froggy please sleep in a little later than 5:30am from now on? Thanks.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Changes
Well. This week has been ... interesting. And it's only Wednesday - shouldn't it be Friday already?
I've been in Houston since Sunday evening. Monday afternoon, I made my way downstairs to the named partner's office at my firm. We spent over three months on a trial team a few years ago, and I have deep respect and admiration for both him and the firm that he has built over the years.
I made a deal with myself before I went to see him, feeling slightly silly about it but needing a little help. If he was in his office, with no one else in there, and he wasn't on the phone or otherwise distracted, it was a sign. If you know anything about senior partners at busy law firms? You know this is an improbable scenario at best.
So I wandered downstairs and peeked in his office. Nope, not at his desk. Pretty much what I figured, I'd have to wait. No, wait. He's sitting at his work table. With no one else in there. And not on the phone. Almost like he was waiting on someone to come talk to him.
So I took about 20 seconds, gathered up a little strength and composure, and went in to quit the job I've had for the last 7 years.
I've been in Houston since Sunday evening. Monday afternoon, I made my way downstairs to the named partner's office at my firm. We spent over three months on a trial team a few years ago, and I have deep respect and admiration for both him and the firm that he has built over the years.
I made a deal with myself before I went to see him, feeling slightly silly about it but needing a little help. If he was in his office, with no one else in there, and he wasn't on the phone or otherwise distracted, it was a sign. If you know anything about senior partners at busy law firms? You know this is an improbable scenario at best.
So I wandered downstairs and peeked in his office. Nope, not at his desk. Pretty much what I figured, I'd have to wait. No, wait. He's sitting at his work table. With no one else in there. And not on the phone. Almost like he was waiting on someone to come talk to him.
So I took about 20 seconds, gathered up a little strength and composure, and went in to quit the job I've had for the last 7 years.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Hope.
I think I've said in other posts that I'm not a big fan of organized religion. I have no problem with spirituality, but most organized religion doesn't appeal to me.
That being said, if you live in the South, which I obviously do, it's a bit hard to avoid the signs for "sunrise services" on Easter Sunday. Messages of hope and prayer emanate from billboards and facebook posts, and only the heathens don't have some form of organized worship to attend on Sunday morning.
My heathen worship Easter Sunday? At the foot of (and up into) the hills.
J and I went out for a run, and not just any run. We were at Lake Ouachita, which is in the Ozarks, and the hills there? Killer.
We did the first 2 miles on some incredibly beautiful, godforsaken steep hills, up, up, down, up, up, up, down, lungs burning, quads screaming, mind blanking. Well, that was me, anyway. We stopped after the first 2 miles, took a quick water break, and went out for 2 more.
Somewhere towards the end of the second half of the run, I remembered running these same roads a year ago on Easter weekend. The run last year had started with the resignation and annoyance that had plagued my runs for weeks: Sure, the first 10 steps feel fine, but that'll be all I get. Well, OK, 20 steps, any minute now the knee will start griping. Huh. Quarter mile, half mile and I'm still jogging. That's unusual. Wow. A full mile. Slow jogging, but still running? Maybe there's hope...
It was the first decent run I'd had since January. I was beginning to think the knee was never going to get better (ok, it was hamstring tendinitis, but it felt like a knee problem), and I needed to give up the sport I'd only recently learned to appreciate. This was the first run that gave me anything even close to hope that it might be healing and better days were ahead. I was out of shape, slow, and irritable at how much ground I'd lost, but there was hope.
So yesterday, one year later? I ran 4 miles at an average pace of 10:18 per mile. That doesn't sound incredibly fast at all, but if you could see some of the hills we ran, you'd understand why I am completely amazed that I was able to even come close to that. And even though it was hard, and even though my lungs burned and my quads screamed? I was incredibly grateful to be able to run those hills. How awesome to not be injured, to feel strong, and to be able to run.
And literally as I was thinking those thoughts, plodding up the last large uphill section, the rain started and the sun broke through the clouds at the same time. I'm not sure if there was a rainbow, 'cause there were too many hills and trees to see much of anything (and it's kinda hard to see when you are borderline passing out from oxygen deprivation).
But it was a gentle reminder of all the things I have to be grateful for - running and otherwise.
Of course, today, my quads are a not so gentle reminder of the run yesterday. But hey. I'll take the pain. It means I was able to run.
That being said, if you live in the South, which I obviously do, it's a bit hard to avoid the signs for "sunrise services" on Easter Sunday. Messages of hope and prayer emanate from billboards and facebook posts, and only the heathens don't have some form of organized worship to attend on Sunday morning.
My heathen worship Easter Sunday? At the foot of (and up into) the hills.
J and I went out for a run, and not just any run. We were at Lake Ouachita, which is in the Ozarks, and the hills there? Killer.
We did the first 2 miles on some incredibly beautiful, godforsaken steep hills, up, up, down, up, up, up, down, lungs burning, quads screaming, mind blanking. Well, that was me, anyway. We stopped after the first 2 miles, took a quick water break, and went out for 2 more.
Somewhere towards the end of the second half of the run, I remembered running these same roads a year ago on Easter weekend. The run last year had started with the resignation and annoyance that had plagued my runs for weeks: Sure, the first 10 steps feel fine, but that'll be all I get. Well, OK, 20 steps, any minute now the knee will start griping. Huh. Quarter mile, half mile and I'm still jogging. That's unusual. Wow. A full mile. Slow jogging, but still running? Maybe there's hope...
It was the first decent run I'd had since January. I was beginning to think the knee was never going to get better (ok, it was hamstring tendinitis, but it felt like a knee problem), and I needed to give up the sport I'd only recently learned to appreciate. This was the first run that gave me anything even close to hope that it might be healing and better days were ahead. I was out of shape, slow, and irritable at how much ground I'd lost, but there was hope.
So yesterday, one year later? I ran 4 miles at an average pace of 10:18 per mile. That doesn't sound incredibly fast at all, but if you could see some of the hills we ran, you'd understand why I am completely amazed that I was able to even come close to that. And even though it was hard, and even though my lungs burned and my quads screamed? I was incredibly grateful to be able to run those hills. How awesome to not be injured, to feel strong, and to be able to run.
And literally as I was thinking those thoughts, plodding up the last large uphill section, the rain started and the sun broke through the clouds at the same time. I'm not sure if there was a rainbow, 'cause there were too many hills and trees to see much of anything (and it's kinda hard to see when you are borderline passing out from oxygen deprivation).
But it was a gentle reminder of all the things I have to be grateful for - running and otherwise.
Of course, today, my quads are a not so gentle reminder of the run yesterday. But hey. I'll take the pain. It means I was able to run.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Wow.
OK, that was a bit more of a break than I anticipated. Apparently being sans laptop doesn't do good things for my blog posts. Who knew? Let's not let that happen again, 'k?
So. Let's see. I spent the weekend at the lake with my parents, kiddos, and J in a 900 square foot condo. That might be a little too much family closeness for my taste, but hey. The Easter bunny came, the kiddos got to do a couple of different egg hunts, and I worked on my Words With Friends skillz. Not too shabby, right?
So the highlights of the last few days? Let's see...
I introduced my kiddos to Jerry Jeff Walker on the drive over to the lake Friday afternoon. They were a bit unimpressed. I was really hoping they might like Mr. Bojangles, the song that my brother and I adored when we were young, but it hasn't happened yet. All is not lost, however. Benjamin repeatedly asked for "Ring of Fire." That's a good sign.
I ate wayyy more than necessary. Funny how some places just bring out certain impulses, right? When I was growing up, we always snacked at the lake much more than at home - Cheetos, popcorn, chocolate, incredible dinners, big breakfasts, you name it. I can't walk through the front door in that place without feeling the need to pound junk food and sodas. Awesome for a lazy weekend. Not so awesome for the whole "jeans fitting" thing. But really? There is some perfection you just don't mess with, and I'll be damned if I felt like rocking that boat this weekend.
Yesterday, my kiddos were up by 5:30am. I would've been more pissed if they had been sleeping in my room, I suppose. Fortunately for J and I, they wanted to sleep in my parents' room. Sorry, guys, y'all got the very short end of that stick.
Today? Well, everyone left the lake around 1:00pm. J and crew went east to Little Rock, and I went south to Houston. Perhaps the last time I'll make this drive for a while...but maybe more later this week on that.
For now? I'm gonna munch some Easter candy (chocolate, of course, thanks G!), drink M's Jack and enjoy a quiet, solitary room. Ahhhhh. Simple pleasures, right?
So. Let's see. I spent the weekend at the lake with my parents, kiddos, and J in a 900 square foot condo. That might be a little too much family closeness for my taste, but hey. The Easter bunny came, the kiddos got to do a couple of different egg hunts, and I worked on my Words With Friends skillz. Not too shabby, right?
So the highlights of the last few days? Let's see...
I introduced my kiddos to Jerry Jeff Walker on the drive over to the lake Friday afternoon. They were a bit unimpressed. I was really hoping they might like Mr. Bojangles, the song that my brother and I adored when we were young, but it hasn't happened yet. All is not lost, however. Benjamin repeatedly asked for "Ring of Fire." That's a good sign.
I ate wayyy more than necessary. Funny how some places just bring out certain impulses, right? When I was growing up, we always snacked at the lake much more than at home - Cheetos, popcorn, chocolate, incredible dinners, big breakfasts, you name it. I can't walk through the front door in that place without feeling the need to pound junk food and sodas. Awesome for a lazy weekend. Not so awesome for the whole "jeans fitting" thing. But really? There is some perfection you just don't mess with, and I'll be damned if I felt like rocking that boat this weekend.
Yesterday, my kiddos were up by 5:30am. I would've been more pissed if they had been sleeping in my room, I suppose. Fortunately for J and I, they wanted to sleep in my parents' room. Sorry, guys, y'all got the very short end of that stick.
Today? Well, everyone left the lake around 1:00pm. J and crew went east to Little Rock, and I went south to Houston. Perhaps the last time I'll make this drive for a while...but maybe more later this week on that.
For now? I'm gonna munch some Easter candy (chocolate, of course, thanks G!), drink M's Jack and enjoy a quiet, solitary room. Ahhhhh. Simple pleasures, right?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Hey, Twinkie...
Over the weekend, Benjamin asked us to pick up him some Twinkies for his lunches during the week. We don't usually keep stuff like that in the house because someone around here tends to eat it too quickly. Ahem. Girl Scout Cookies? I do not know of what you speak.
But J took pity on him, and picked up a box of Twinkies on Monday night at the grocery store. When he got home with them later that night, I was in a munchy mood, so J brought me one (my lazy ass didn't want to get off the couch). I tore it open and bit into it, expecting the cakey, creamy goodness that I remembered from childhood.
Wait.
What the hell? Is that ... banana? Did they put banana in my Twinkie? That's not possible. I would have never eaten a Twinkie when I was younger because I hated the flavor of banana. Still do, apparently.
So I did a little research. According to the all knowing interwebs (or Wikipedia, whichever you prefer), the original Twinkie flavor really was - banana. But soon after mass production started, there was a banana shortage, and the vanilla cream that I remember was subbed in. The Twinkie remained the same until sometime around 2007 or 2008, when the banana flavor was brought back as a sort of novelty Twinkie.
It's been a while since we've bought Twinkies. And right there on the package, it does say "Original Banana Flavor." Who knew that original meant "a really freaking long time before I was born?"
I ate another bite or two, but didn't care to finish it. I mean, really, banana???
This morning, I put one in Benjamin's lunch box, and told him to check out the special treat he was getting. He cracked open his lunch box before putting it in his backpack, and the look on his face? Sheer bliss. He was so damned excited about the Twinkie, he ran off down the hall to thank J for getting them.
Side note: apparently he forgot what they were called when he was saying 'thank you' and called it "the long creamy filled thing." Pretty good description.
In the meantime, Alyssa gazed at the Twinkie in Benjamin's lunch box, reached over and picked it up. She looked at me, and said, wonderingly, "What is it?"
I sort of felt like the meanest parent in the world. My almost 5 year old girl doesn't know what a Twinkie is. Total Parenting Fail. Must remedy that soon. With a REAL FREAKING TWINKIE.
But J took pity on him, and picked up a box of Twinkies on Monday night at the grocery store. When he got home with them later that night, I was in a munchy mood, so J brought me one (my lazy ass didn't want to get off the couch). I tore it open and bit into it, expecting the cakey, creamy goodness that I remembered from childhood.
Wait.
What the hell? Is that ... banana? Did they put banana in my Twinkie? That's not possible. I would have never eaten a Twinkie when I was younger because I hated the flavor of banana. Still do, apparently.
So I did a little research. According to the all knowing interwebs (or Wikipedia, whichever you prefer), the original Twinkie flavor really was - banana. But soon after mass production started, there was a banana shortage, and the vanilla cream that I remember was subbed in. The Twinkie remained the same until sometime around 2007 or 2008, when the banana flavor was brought back as a sort of novelty Twinkie.
It's been a while since we've bought Twinkies. And right there on the package, it does say "Original Banana Flavor." Who knew that original meant "a really freaking long time before I was born?"
I ate another bite or two, but didn't care to finish it. I mean, really, banana???
This morning, I put one in Benjamin's lunch box, and told him to check out the special treat he was getting. He cracked open his lunch box before putting it in his backpack, and the look on his face? Sheer bliss. He was so damned excited about the Twinkie, he ran off down the hall to thank J for getting them.
Side note: apparently he forgot what they were called when he was saying 'thank you' and called it "the long creamy filled thing." Pretty good description.
In the meantime, Alyssa gazed at the Twinkie in Benjamin's lunch box, reached over and picked it up. She looked at me, and said, wonderingly, "What is it?"
I sort of felt like the meanest parent in the world. My almost 5 year old girl doesn't know what a Twinkie is. Total Parenting Fail. Must remedy that soon. With a REAL FREAKING TWINKIE.
Boring is Sometimes Good...
Yeah, last night got sorta interesting after all - I got to do something I've never done before.
I was playing doubles at a club in Little Rock when the tornado sirens started going off all around us. My initial response when I hear the sirens is to glue myself to the television set (if I'm not already there) and figure out what's going on. The women I was playing doubles with? Had very different ideas about what to do.
They just kept playing.
Wha...?
Really?
Apparently someone from the club would have come and told us if things were bad enough that we needed to go to a safer place. So we kept playing. I was serving during the wailing of the sirens, and was so distracted I didn't even notice when my partner and I won the game without losing a point. She looked at me and said "you didn't miss a first serve that entire game."
Now, I know that I play better when I take my brain out of the game. The brain is a mortal enemy on the court - it puts doubts in your head, causes you to tighten up, and generally screws up your match. I know this very well.
But really, tornado sirens???
Maybe instead of trying to concentrate on a song during my matches (I do that to keep my brain occupied so it doesn't think), I should try to focus on the sound of tornado sirens. It worked fantastically last night, anyway...
I was playing doubles at a club in Little Rock when the tornado sirens started going off all around us. My initial response when I hear the sirens is to glue myself to the television set (if I'm not already there) and figure out what's going on. The women I was playing doubles with? Had very different ideas about what to do.
They just kept playing.
Wha...?
Really?
Apparently someone from the club would have come and told us if things were bad enough that we needed to go to a safer place. So we kept playing. I was serving during the wailing of the sirens, and was so distracted I didn't even notice when my partner and I won the game without losing a point. She looked at me and said "you didn't miss a first serve that entire game."
Now, I know that I play better when I take my brain out of the game. The brain is a mortal enemy on the court - it puts doubts in your head, causes you to tighten up, and generally screws up your match. I know this very well.
But really, tornado sirens???
Maybe instead of trying to concentrate on a song during my matches (I do that to keep my brain occupied so it doesn't think), I should try to focus on the sound of tornado sirens. It worked fantastically last night, anyway...
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Pointless Post
Writer's Block. I gots nothin' today. It's a beautiful day but it's supposed to storm tonight. Tennis match, baseball game both on the agenda tonight, so it's gonna be busy. Spent a long time with my guitar last night, I'm really feeling good about the progress I'm making. I'm beginning to make some chord transitions without having to look - that idea was inconceivable to me when I first started, so maybe there's hope.
Anyway, hopefully I'll find some inspiration around here somewhere and write something halfway interesting. Or maybe some wine tonight will make something interesting. If so, apologies in advance, because it'll probably only be interesting to me. Then again, that's probably the main accomplishment of this blog...
Anyway, hopefully I'll find some inspiration around here somewhere and write something halfway interesting. Or maybe some wine tonight will make something interesting. If so, apologies in advance, because it'll probably only be interesting to me. Then again, that's probably the main accomplishment of this blog...
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Running Affair
Saturday morning, we had tball / machine pitch baseball games for both kiddos. At the game last weekend, I noticed one of the moms on Alyssa's team taking tons and tons of pictures. I also noticed that she was wearing what could only be described as running clothes.
And because misery loves company and because occasionally I think it'd be fun to have a running partner, I asked her about it on Saturday.
Actually, the exact phrase I used was "are you a runner?"
The response I got was one that I would have given a year ago - that she wouldn't call herself a runner, but she runs. I didn't press it any further, and she didn't seem eager to talk about it.
I mulled that exchange over today during my six miler. Somewhere in the last 6 months or so, I've gone from being semi-embarrassed at calling myself a runner to embracing the title. No, I don't run marathons (yet?), and no, I don't run the ungodly number of miles that some runners cover each week. But I do run, and I've gotten some good experience and a solid baseline, and longer runs don't scare the bejesus out of me like they used to. So I sort of feel "worthy" of calling myself a runner - for the time being, anyway.
I don't think running has quite overtaken tennis as my first love - I still adore winning tough matches and smacking the hell out of a tennis ball. But I no longer think of myself as primarily a tennis player. Hmmm...
Sorry tennis, but I think I may be having an affair. It's not you, it's me - I promise! But try not to worry. All that running around? Can only help me on the court.
And because misery loves company and because occasionally I think it'd be fun to have a running partner, I asked her about it on Saturday.
Actually, the exact phrase I used was "are you a runner?"
The response I got was one that I would have given a year ago - that she wouldn't call herself a runner, but she runs. I didn't press it any further, and she didn't seem eager to talk about it.
I mulled that exchange over today during my six miler. Somewhere in the last 6 months or so, I've gone from being semi-embarrassed at calling myself a runner to embracing the title. No, I don't run marathons (yet?), and no, I don't run the ungodly number of miles that some runners cover each week. But I do run, and I've gotten some good experience and a solid baseline, and longer runs don't scare the bejesus out of me like they used to. So I sort of feel "worthy" of calling myself a runner - for the time being, anyway.
I don't think running has quite overtaken tennis as my first love - I still adore winning tough matches and smacking the hell out of a tennis ball. But I no longer think of myself as primarily a tennis player. Hmmm...
Sorry tennis, but I think I may be having an affair. It's not you, it's me - I promise! But try not to worry. All that running around? Can only help me on the court.
Saturday Silliness
As usual, another crazy weekend.
I think Saturday is summed up kind of nicely in an exchange I had with Alyssa early Saturday afternoon.
After 1 tennis practice (mine), 2 baseball games (kiddos), 1 tennis lesson (J's), 1 lunch fixed for the kiddos and I, and umpteen loads of laundry, I was in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the week.
My back was turned to the doorway, and around me were the shrieks of an ongoing nerf gun battle. The girl "sneaked" into the kitchen, trying desperately not to laugh and failing miserably.
Without turning my head, I asked her to please not shoot me, because I didn't really want to be shot at right now.
More muffled giggling.
I tried again.
"Please don't shoot me right now, I'm cleaning up your lunch dishes and trying to get things done so you--"
Bang!
She shot me.
Guilt does not work with my kiddos...this is not good.
I think Saturday is summed up kind of nicely in an exchange I had with Alyssa early Saturday afternoon.
After 1 tennis practice (mine), 2 baseball games (kiddos), 1 tennis lesson (J's), 1 lunch fixed for the kiddos and I, and umpteen loads of laundry, I was in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the week.
My back was turned to the doorway, and around me were the shrieks of an ongoing nerf gun battle. The girl "sneaked" into the kitchen, trying desperately not to laugh and failing miserably.
Without turning my head, I asked her to please not shoot me, because I didn't really want to be shot at right now.
More muffled giggling.
I tried again.
"Please don't shoot me right now, I'm cleaning up your lunch dishes and trying to get things done so you--"
Bang!
She shot me.
Guilt does not work with my kiddos...this is not good.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Oh, Hi, Spring In Arkansas - Long Time No See
OK, it was a bit of a rough night.
Bear with me. There will probably be nonsensical sentences , misused words, and random comments in this post, 'cause I'm running on very little sleep.
I've since revised some of my opinions about the glory that is a snow day out of school, but I digress.
So where was I...and where's my coffee.
So yeah. Somewhere in the midst of wishing for a snow day and sledding conditions, I got the bug for weather watching. And if you grew up in Little Rock, you remember the tornado sirens going off regularly in the spring and fall. Technology was a little different twenty years ago; the sirens went off near our house if there was a tornado anywhere in the county, let alone close enough to affect us. So it wasn't unusual to hear them, but they still made your heart skip a beat. And of course, you remember the city testing the sirens every Wednesday at noon, right? They still do that, in case you are wondering.
Last night we were supposed to get some pretty decent boomers, with tornados being possible. Unfortunately, the storms didn't come through our area until 2am. Even more unfortunately, I stayed up reading comments posted in a local weather chat room and watching the weather to our west (Mena, Dardanelle, Russelville) until after 1am, when it was supposed to be dying down. So when the storms actually rolled through our area at 2am? I had just drifted off to sleep. Ahhh, the Internet. Interrupting sleep since 1993. Or whenever.
So then came the wind. And the lightening. And the hail. And two little kiddos down the stairs, eyes big and voices excited. And I thought it might be worth checking the weather to make sure we didn't need to grab pillows and hit a closet or something.
When I actually checked the weather, there were four separate tornado warnings out in our area. This, from storms that were supposed to be "dying down". I couldn't hear any sirens close by (although I could hear them from the Little Rock area), but sleep was pushed back for another half hour at least as the kiddos and I watched the news. For what it's worth, we do have a siren about half a mile from our house, so if that sucker blares, we'll hear it. Still, I'd rather know what's going on as opposed to relying on a siren.
I suppose it was sometime after 3am before our house settled down again and the storms moved past us. The boy went back to his room and we didn't hear from him again, but the girl came down for chapstick, and to have her hair pulled back, and for something else that I can't remember right now. She has a hard time getting back to sleep sometimes...
I sorta worry that I'm turning the kiddos into weather watchers. I don't think I act worried or concerned about the weather, although I do pay attention to it. But both kiddos sat on the couch with me at 2:30 this morning and asked a million questions as we watched the weather maps and the line of storms come through.
They were concerned about tornados and bad weather, and I don't like to sugarcoat things for them, but I also try not to worry them unnecessarily. I don't want them to be frightened, but I do want them to have a healthy respect for mother nature. So when they ask questions, I answer as truthfully as I can, leaving out information if I think it's overly concerning. But that doesn't matter - they usually pick up on things anyway. And I suppose I'd rather them learn stuff from me, as opposed to having someone frighten them with bad information.
Now, if I can just keep that attitude when it comes time for The Talk.
Bear with me. There will probably be nonsensical sentences , misused words, and random comments in this post, 'cause I'm running on very little sleep.
I've mentioned before that I'm a bit of a weather nerd - I can't remember a time when I wasn't somewhat obsessed with the weather. I think it stems from Arkansas getting about one decent snow a year when I was growing up - eventually, at some point during the winter, it would snow. In the meantime, every cold front would get major local news attention and every possibility at snow would get thrown out there, sending school aged children bouncing off the wall. Or maybe that was just me.
I've since revised some of my opinions about the glory that is a snow day out of school, but I digress.
So where was I...and where's my coffee.
So yeah. Somewhere in the midst of wishing for a snow day and sledding conditions, I got the bug for weather watching. And if you grew up in Little Rock, you remember the tornado sirens going off regularly in the spring and fall. Technology was a little different twenty years ago; the sirens went off near our house if there was a tornado anywhere in the county, let alone close enough to affect us. So it wasn't unusual to hear them, but they still made your heart skip a beat. And of course, you remember the city testing the sirens every Wednesday at noon, right? They still do that, in case you are wondering.
Last night we were supposed to get some pretty decent boomers, with tornados being possible. Unfortunately, the storms didn't come through our area until 2am. Even more unfortunately, I stayed up reading comments posted in a local weather chat room and watching the weather to our west (Mena, Dardanelle, Russelville) until after 1am, when it was supposed to be dying down. So when the storms actually rolled through our area at 2am? I had just drifted off to sleep. Ahhh, the Internet. Interrupting sleep since 1993. Or whenever.
So then came the wind. And the lightening. And the hail. And two little kiddos down the stairs, eyes big and voices excited. And I thought it might be worth checking the weather to make sure we didn't need to grab pillows and hit a closet or something.
When I actually checked the weather, there were four separate tornado warnings out in our area. This, from storms that were supposed to be "dying down". I couldn't hear any sirens close by (although I could hear them from the Little Rock area), but sleep was pushed back for another half hour at least as the kiddos and I watched the news. For what it's worth, we do have a siren about half a mile from our house, so if that sucker blares, we'll hear it. Still, I'd rather know what's going on as opposed to relying on a siren.
I suppose it was sometime after 3am before our house settled down again and the storms moved past us. The boy went back to his room and we didn't hear from him again, but the girl came down for chapstick, and to have her hair pulled back, and for something else that I can't remember right now. She has a hard time getting back to sleep sometimes...
I sorta worry that I'm turning the kiddos into weather watchers. I don't think I act worried or concerned about the weather, although I do pay attention to it. But both kiddos sat on the couch with me at 2:30 this morning and asked a million questions as we watched the weather maps and the line of storms come through.
They were concerned about tornados and bad weather, and I don't like to sugarcoat things for them, but I also try not to worry them unnecessarily. I don't want them to be frightened, but I do want them to have a healthy respect for mother nature. So when they ask questions, I answer as truthfully as I can, leaving out information if I think it's overly concerning. But that doesn't matter - they usually pick up on things anyway. And I suppose I'd rather them learn stuff from me, as opposed to having someone frighten them with bad information.
Now, if I can just keep that attitude when it comes time for The Talk.
Thinking about that makes me want to add something stronger to my coffee...this is gonna be a long day.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Wednesday Wailing
When do the tantrums and meltdowns stop? Really?
My girl completely came unglued this morning because she didn't get milk to drink. She had dawdled too much getting ready, and all we had time for was a quick cup of water with her waffles (she could get her own water; I had to help with the milk and I was busy with something else at the time). Complete meltdown.
B and I finished getting our stuff together and headed to the car, leaving her in the house wailing because she wouldn't settle down enough to put on her shoes. Finally, I told her to just get all her stuff and bring it out to the car.
"But I don't waaaant tooooo!"
Yeah, sorry baby girl, that's just how things go sometimes.
The amusing thing about all this was that she was wailing the above phrase at the top of her lungs (oh hi, sorry neighbors) as she made multiple trips to the car with her shoes, backpack, and remaining waffle. I felt kind of bad about it, but there was something amusing about a preschooler wailing at the top of her lungs that she didn't want to do something at the same time she was doing it.
Or maybe that's just me.
My girl completely came unglued this morning because she didn't get milk to drink. She had dawdled too much getting ready, and all we had time for was a quick cup of water with her waffles (she could get her own water; I had to help with the milk and I was busy with something else at the time). Complete meltdown.
B and I finished getting our stuff together and headed to the car, leaving her in the house wailing because she wouldn't settle down enough to put on her shoes. Finally, I told her to just get all her stuff and bring it out to the car.
"But I don't waaaant tooooo!"
Yeah, sorry baby girl, that's just how things go sometimes.
The amusing thing about all this was that she was wailing the above phrase at the top of her lungs (oh hi, sorry neighbors) as she made multiple trips to the car with her shoes, backpack, and remaining waffle. I felt kind of bad about it, but there was something amusing about a preschooler wailing at the top of her lungs that she didn't want to do something at the same time she was doing it.
Or maybe that's just me.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Ear Worms and Pink Ladies
Apparently both the lactic acid and the ear worm I picked up during the half this weekend are going to stick around for a while. I put some new stuff on the Shuffle prior to the run, and late in the run when I was starting to go slightly delirious, the BEP "Meet Me Halfway" came on. It has been firmly stuck in my head since then. Go figure. At least it's a halfway decent song, I suppose? Ha ha.
As for the lactic acid? Well, I'm not as sore as I was after the LR Half, but my quads were pretty trashed. If my legs are going to get sore, it's nearly always my quads for some reason. Rarely my hamstrings, and almost never do my calves get sore. Running downhill is supposed to tax your quads even more than flat or uphill running, and god knows there was a decent amount of downhill running on that route. So yeah. I hurt. I read a description one time that calls this kind of sore "toilet sore." If you've ever been this sore, you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I've got lots of stuff going through my head, but nothing has crystallized into any sort of a decent post, so really? I gots nothin' of much substance tonight.
I suppose it's as good a time as any to tell you about the all-girls t-ball team Alyssa ended up on this season. This is her first season to play, and the team is mainly made up of 4 year olds. Benjamin has been playing for a couple of years now, and in the past, there has always been at least one girl on each of his teams. We'd never seen an all girls team, although I had heard rumors of one. Not that I would have requested that.
So when I got the first email from Alyssa's coach, I was a bit taken aback. It read as though the entire team was girls. But it was t-ball. I was confused. There were multiple mentions of the color pink, the word "ladies" was used, and I felt a bit nauseous after reading it. If you know me at all, you know that the word "pink" is only in my vocabulary because Alyssa loves pink. Redheads and pink do not mix. In particular, '80 and pink do not mix.
I tried to reserve judgment, but sometimes I get an F in that category. I should probably work on that. Did I mention that I also procrastinate, too?
We showed up to the first practice, and my first impression was that everyone out there knew each other. Except us. If you've been in that situation before, you know what I'm talking about. Add that to the fact that there had been a short, apparently impromptu practice a few days earlier, to which we had not been invited, and my irritation level was pretty high.
As I talked to the other parents, I learned that the coach's wife had indeed requested that this be an all girls team. And that everyone else out there did know each other already. No one thought to friggin' ask me if we wanted to be on an all girls team. Because I would've turned that one down flat. And maybe that would've been a mistake, maybe not. Time will tell.
And to be completely honest, there are some advantages to this. The difference between the boys at this age and the girls? Holy cow. Night and day. The girls pay attention, they follow direction, and they are focused. The boys on B's teams? Well, if they were playing in the dirt less than 80% of the time? It was a win - and for B, I'd say that less than 90% of the time was a win. And if you know me, you also know try like the devil not to generalize or make assumptions based on gender. But this was too different to ignore.
At any rate, I'm still a little miffed at the whole thing. I would have appreciated someone asking me if I was ok with Alyssa being placed on an all girls team. But I wasn't. And the parents are all very nice and involved, and I'm going to do my absolute best not to let my decidedly non-girlie personality get too abrasive. 'Cause really. Pink and freaking visors? DO NOT BELONG IN BASEBALL. Not even tball. I am trying.
But I REFUSE to chant "Pink Ladies" in a Tball game. Simply. Refuse.
As for the lactic acid? Well, I'm not as sore as I was after the LR Half, but my quads were pretty trashed. If my legs are going to get sore, it's nearly always my quads for some reason. Rarely my hamstrings, and almost never do my calves get sore. Running downhill is supposed to tax your quads even more than flat or uphill running, and god knows there was a decent amount of downhill running on that route. So yeah. I hurt. I read a description one time that calls this kind of sore "toilet sore." If you've ever been this sore, you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I've got lots of stuff going through my head, but nothing has crystallized into any sort of a decent post, so really? I gots nothin' of much substance tonight.
I suppose it's as good a time as any to tell you about the all-girls t-ball team Alyssa ended up on this season. This is her first season to play, and the team is mainly made up of 4 year olds. Benjamin has been playing for a couple of years now, and in the past, there has always been at least one girl on each of his teams. We'd never seen an all girls team, although I had heard rumors of one. Not that I would have requested that.
So when I got the first email from Alyssa's coach, I was a bit taken aback. It read as though the entire team was girls. But it was t-ball. I was confused. There were multiple mentions of the color pink, the word "ladies" was used, and I felt a bit nauseous after reading it. If you know me at all, you know that the word "pink" is only in my vocabulary because Alyssa loves pink. Redheads and pink do not mix. In particular, '80 and pink do not mix.
I tried to reserve judgment, but sometimes I get an F in that category. I should probably work on that. Did I mention that I also procrastinate, too?
We showed up to the first practice, and my first impression was that everyone out there knew each other. Except us. If you've been in that situation before, you know what I'm talking about. Add that to the fact that there had been a short, apparently impromptu practice a few days earlier, to which we had not been invited, and my irritation level was pretty high.
As I talked to the other parents, I learned that the coach's wife had indeed requested that this be an all girls team. And that everyone else out there did know each other already. No one thought to friggin' ask me if we wanted to be on an all girls team. Because I would've turned that one down flat. And maybe that would've been a mistake, maybe not. Time will tell.
And to be completely honest, there are some advantages to this. The difference between the boys at this age and the girls? Holy cow. Night and day. The girls pay attention, they follow direction, and they are focused. The boys on B's teams? Well, if they were playing in the dirt less than 80% of the time? It was a win - and for B, I'd say that less than 90% of the time was a win. And if you know me, you also know try like the devil not to generalize or make assumptions based on gender. But this was too different to ignore.
At any rate, I'm still a little miffed at the whole thing. I would have appreciated someone asking me if I was ok with Alyssa being placed on an all girls team. But I wasn't. And the parents are all very nice and involved, and I'm going to do my absolute best not to let my decidedly non-girlie personality get too abrasive. 'Cause really. Pink and freaking visors? DO NOT BELONG IN BASEBALL. Not even tball. I am trying.
But I REFUSE to chant "Pink Ladies" in a Tball game. Simply. Refuse.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Hogeye Half Marathon Masochism
So I woke up yesterday morning in the hills of Fayetteville at some friends' house* with the crazy-ass notion of running the Hogeye Half Marathon. The main goal was to finish and not collapse. And that's not a forgone conclusion with any distance race: anything can happen out there, especially in a race that is promoting its route with the words "Now Less Hilly!" Yeah. Good times.
Unfortunately, the idea that a hilly half marathon might be a little masochistic didn't occur to me until 6am yesterday morning, when I woke up and could immediately tell that the day had the potential for complete and unmitigated disaster. My stomach was all sorts of messed up and my heart rate was elevated before I even got out of bed. Had I been home and planning a training run, I would've either bagged it or at least waited until I felt better later in the day. That wasn't an option yesterday morning, though. So onward I went, hoping I'd start to feel better once I got out there. At worst, I'd throw up or pass out, and get taken to the medical tent. Hey, at least I'd have a legitimate excuse for not finishing, right?
If you've been to Fayetteville, you are familiar with the hills. The run started in the historic Square, and it was by far the smallest race I've run so far. Everyone congregated en mass at a street corner near the starting line - no corrals, no seeding, just a mass of folks waiting to run. Some in kilts, some in tutus. To each his or her own, right?
It was small enough that when the National Anthem was sung just prior to the race, the entire Square got completely, eerily quiet while everyone turned towards the flag. The previous races I've run have had far too many folks to even begin to hear the anthem, let alone have everyone get quiet. It was a very nice way to start the race.
With the anthem sung, there was a "bang" and we were off. It was over 70 degrees at the start, which is nearly 40 degrees warmer than any previous half that I've run. The first two miles of the race were a few downhills from the square, and then uphill again and again and again through the U of A campus. It was pretty telling that when we hit the turnaround for the 5K runners (which happened about 1.5 miles into the course), I was already sweaty and a little jealous, wondering how the hell I was going to manage to eke out another 11.5 miles. So the first two very hilly miles shook out like this:
Mile 1: 10:06
Mile 2: 10:25
We hit mile 3, and it was nearly completely downhill.
Mile 3: 9:34.
God that felt good to go downhill! I was chugging Gatorade at every water station, wondering if I had managed to completely dehydrate myself with one glass of wine the night before. Doubtful. I've heard other runners talk about days that just weren't their days - maybe this was just mine? Or maybe I underestimated the effect of the heat, humidity and wind - I'm not sure.
Miles 4 through 9 were pretty straight forward, a few rolling hills, nothing too crazy. I was still trying to fight through whatever was bothering me, but by about mile 6, I had started to shake it off. A few caffeinated gels probably helped significantly. There was also this crazy-ass overpass near Sam's around mile 7 where we ran up and straight into the wind. It was everything I could do to keep plodding along over that bridge, being blown left and right by the 20+mph gusts.
Mile 4: 10:16
Mile 5: 10:16
Mile 6: 10:17
Mile 7: 10:13
Mile 8: 9:57
Mile 9: 10:03
If I had been thinking straight, I would've realized that I was clocking decent time because we had a tailwind. Maybe it was best I wasn't thinking straight, because any enjoyment I was managing to find would have just turned to dread.
I knew from looking at the elevation chart that the last 4 miles were a gradual incline, so I had been trying to hold a little back for that last push. Unfortunately, this was point on the course where the oh-so-helpful-and-friendly tailwind became an evil and vicious headwind. Combine that with the sadistic sun, and things started to go badly. Those conditions are ok for a quick 3 mile run, but not so much for the ass end of a 13 mile run that ends with several miles on a sometimes gradual / sometimes not so gradual incline...so not cool.
Mile 10: 10:35
Mile 11: 10:30
Mile 12: 10:59
Mile 13: 10:52
Mile 14 (.23 mile): 2.32 (11:04 pace).
Somewhere around Mile 12, I found myself getting inexplicably pissed off at whoever decided to hold the race on this particular day. What the hell were they thinking - didn't they KNOW eleven months ago that it was going to be this windy and hot today? That was when I decided to slow down just a wee bit. Delirium was setting in, and I was close enough to finishing that passing out, though it might sound nice, was no longer acceptable. I wanted to finish under my own power, not in the back of a medic van.
The last quarter mile or so was 100% uphill. Not just a gradual incline, but a significant grade. By the time I hit the finish line, my heart rate was redlining and I was DONE. I had a few moments post race where I thought I might either throw up or pass out. Fortunately for both me and my friends who made the trek out to see the finish, neither happened.
Overall thoughts on the race? I enjoyed the course - miles 8-13 were on the trails through town and were very pretty. It was also nice to run through campus on roads that would have terrified me during my college years on campus. My overall time, 2:16:40, comes out to about an average 10:20 pace, all miles under an 11:00 average. I'm not counting that last .23 average pace, 'cause that bastard was completely uphill at the end of the race. And it wasn't a complete mile. So there.
To be quite honest, I'm thrilled my time in this race. It's a solid 10 minutes slower than my LR half time, but with the weather, hills, and the way I felt that morning? That's actually a fantastic result for what I thought I could do. I placed in the top 25% in my age group (10 out of 40 is still top 25%, right?), and I feel pretty encouraged by how much my running has improved over the last few years. If a "bad" race results in a 10:20 average, maybe my dream goal of breaking a 2 hour half is reachable...guess we'll see.
*Our friends let me crash there literally with last minute notice, and it was much appreciated!
Unfortunately, the idea that a hilly half marathon might be a little masochistic didn't occur to me until 6am yesterday morning, when I woke up and could immediately tell that the day had the potential for complete and unmitigated disaster. My stomach was all sorts of messed up and my heart rate was elevated before I even got out of bed. Had I been home and planning a training run, I would've either bagged it or at least waited until I felt better later in the day. That wasn't an option yesterday morning, though. So onward I went, hoping I'd start to feel better once I got out there. At worst, I'd throw up or pass out, and get taken to the medical tent. Hey, at least I'd have a legitimate excuse for not finishing, right?
If you've been to Fayetteville, you are familiar with the hills. The run started in the historic Square, and it was by far the smallest race I've run so far. Everyone congregated en mass at a street corner near the starting line - no corrals, no seeding, just a mass of folks waiting to run. Some in kilts, some in tutus. To each his or her own, right?
It was small enough that when the National Anthem was sung just prior to the race, the entire Square got completely, eerily quiet while everyone turned towards the flag. The previous races I've run have had far too many folks to even begin to hear the anthem, let alone have everyone get quiet. It was a very nice way to start the race.
With the anthem sung, there was a "bang" and we were off. It was over 70 degrees at the start, which is nearly 40 degrees warmer than any previous half that I've run. The first two miles of the race were a few downhills from the square, and then uphill again and again and again through the U of A campus. It was pretty telling that when we hit the turnaround for the 5K runners (which happened about 1.5 miles into the course), I was already sweaty and a little jealous, wondering how the hell I was going to manage to eke out another 11.5 miles. So the first two very hilly miles shook out like this:
Mile 1: 10:06
Mile 2: 10:25
We hit mile 3, and it was nearly completely downhill.
Mile 3: 9:34.
God that felt good to go downhill! I was chugging Gatorade at every water station, wondering if I had managed to completely dehydrate myself with one glass of wine the night before. Doubtful. I've heard other runners talk about days that just weren't their days - maybe this was just mine? Or maybe I underestimated the effect of the heat, humidity and wind - I'm not sure.
Miles 4 through 9 were pretty straight forward, a few rolling hills, nothing too crazy. I was still trying to fight through whatever was bothering me, but by about mile 6, I had started to shake it off. A few caffeinated gels probably helped significantly. There was also this crazy-ass overpass near Sam's around mile 7 where we ran up and straight into the wind. It was everything I could do to keep plodding along over that bridge, being blown left and right by the 20+mph gusts.
Mile 4: 10:16
Mile 5: 10:16
Mile 6: 10:17
Mile 7: 10:13
Mile 8: 9:57
Mile 9: 10:03
If I had been thinking straight, I would've realized that I was clocking decent time because we had a tailwind. Maybe it was best I wasn't thinking straight, because any enjoyment I was managing to find would have just turned to dread.
I knew from looking at the elevation chart that the last 4 miles were a gradual incline, so I had been trying to hold a little back for that last push. Unfortunately, this was point on the course where the oh-so-helpful-and-friendly tailwind became an evil and vicious headwind. Combine that with the sadistic sun, and things started to go badly. Those conditions are ok for a quick 3 mile run, but not so much for the ass end of a 13 mile run that ends with several miles on a sometimes gradual / sometimes not so gradual incline...so not cool.
Mile 10: 10:35
Mile 11: 10:30
Mile 12: 10:59
Mile 13: 10:52
Mile 14 (.23 mile): 2.32 (11:04 pace).
Somewhere around Mile 12, I found myself getting inexplicably pissed off at whoever decided to hold the race on this particular day. What the hell were they thinking - didn't they KNOW eleven months ago that it was going to be this windy and hot today? That was when I decided to slow down just a wee bit. Delirium was setting in, and I was close enough to finishing that passing out, though it might sound nice, was no longer acceptable. I wanted to finish under my own power, not in the back of a medic van.
The last quarter mile or so was 100% uphill. Not just a gradual incline, but a significant grade. By the time I hit the finish line, my heart rate was redlining and I was DONE. I had a few moments post race where I thought I might either throw up or pass out. Fortunately for both me and my friends who made the trek out to see the finish, neither happened.
Overall thoughts on the race? I enjoyed the course - miles 8-13 were on the trails through town and were very pretty. It was also nice to run through campus on roads that would have terrified me during my college years on campus. My overall time, 2:16:40, comes out to about an average 10:20 pace, all miles under an 11:00 average. I'm not counting that last .23 average pace, 'cause that bastard was completely uphill at the end of the race. And it wasn't a complete mile. So there.
To be quite honest, I'm thrilled my time in this race. It's a solid 10 minutes slower than my LR half time, but with the weather, hills, and the way I felt that morning? That's actually a fantastic result for what I thought I could do. I placed in the top 25% in my age group (10 out of 40 is still top 25%, right?), and I feel pretty encouraged by how much my running has improved over the last few years. If a "bad" race results in a 10:20 average, maybe my dream goal of breaking a 2 hour half is reachable...guess we'll see.
*Our friends let me crash there literally with last minute notice, and it was much appreciated!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Down and Dirty (Or Windy and Hilly?)
HOLY CRAP.
Race report coming later today (if I get time), but here are a few quick thoughts on the Fayetteville Hogeye Half.
A) It was windy.
B) There was lots of wind.
C) Did I mention the 20 MPH wind?
D) And the hills?
E) And the heat?
F) And the wind?
Short story: 2:16:40, or an average pace of 10:20. Overall? I'm fine with that. It comes in third of my four halves in terms of speed, but first in terms of obstacles. Not sure what was up with my fitness today, but something was off from the time I woke up this morning.
More later, assuming I can stay awake. That's a big assumption at this point...
Race report coming later today (if I get time), but here are a few quick thoughts on the Fayetteville Hogeye Half.
A) It was windy.
B) There was lots of wind.
C) Did I mention the 20 MPH wind?
D) And the hills?
E) And the heat?
F) And the wind?
Short story: 2:16:40, or an average pace of 10:20. Overall? I'm fine with that. It comes in third of my four halves in terms of speed, but first in terms of obstacles. Not sure what was up with my fitness today, but something was off from the time I woke up this morning.
More later, assuming I can stay awake. That's a big assumption at this point...
Friday, April 8, 2011
Ahhhh...Friday.
So, it's Friday once again, with its promise of another busy weekend. Tonight, we've got dinner plans with some relatively new friends - hopefully our hooligans won't scare them too badly.
Tomorrow holds the two first tball / machine pitch games of the season. I can't wait to see how the A does in her first game, as well as B going up against the machine. I'm sure there will be some good laughs...
Sunday, I think I'm going to attempt running the half marathon in Fayetteville. I want to get in one more run before the season shuts down. I never realized there was a "season" to running, but apparently running a half marathon or a full marathon in 90 degree heat is discouraged. Who knew? No one told that to the tennis tournaments they schedule in late July. Those are painful.
At any rate, though, I want to get one more half in before the races end for the spring. I feel like I'm going into this summer in better shape than I've been in a very long time, and I want to keep that up. I still have my eye on a marathon, and maybe this fall the stars will align and I can knock it out...guess we'll see.
Anyway, that's the down and dirty for today. Depending on how the weekend goes, I may not post again until Monday. Hopefully I'll be able to walk...
Tomorrow holds the two first tball / machine pitch games of the season. I can't wait to see how the A does in her first game, as well as B going up against the machine. I'm sure there will be some good laughs...
Sunday, I think I'm going to attempt running the half marathon in Fayetteville. I want to get in one more run before the season shuts down. I never realized there was a "season" to running, but apparently running a half marathon or a full marathon in 90 degree heat is discouraged. Who knew? No one told that to the tennis tournaments they schedule in late July. Those are painful.
At any rate, though, I want to get one more half in before the races end for the spring. I feel like I'm going into this summer in better shape than I've been in a very long time, and I want to keep that up. I still have my eye on a marathon, and maybe this fall the stars will align and I can knock it out...guess we'll see.
Anyway, that's the down and dirty for today. Depending on how the weekend goes, I may not post again until Monday. Hopefully I'll be able to walk...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The Pause
Exercise is therapy. God only knows how many thousands of dollars I've saved over the years with various types of exercise. Running is relatively new to the arsenal; in the past, tennis and softball have been the order of the day. Funny...both of those involve hitting the hell out of balls. Running, however, only involves hitting your feet on the pavement, step after step after step.
There is a lot of therapeutic value to wearing your ass out with exercise. You just don't have the energy to stress out after a 2 hour tennis match or a 6 mile run. But I'm not sure you can say this is relaxation as much as it is simple exhaustion.
When we were at the beach recently, there was a moment where I could feel myself start to relax. The rhythm of the waves and the ocean breeze (ok, it might've been nearly a gale, but stay with me here) lulled me into a few moments of peace, where I could begin to understand the pull some people feel to live near the shore. It was almost like an involuntary surrender to nature, a fleeting feeling that was gone all too quickly.
I tried to recapture that feeling the entire time we were at the beach, but between kiddos and yummy shrimp salad and, well, "interesting" swimsuits and wardrobe malfunctions, I was only able to dance around the fringes of it.
But I realized after we got home that it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, only an unfamiliar situation. It might seem strange, but some of my most relaxing moments occur in the 30 seconds or so before I start a run. I've only recently realized how much I look forward to this moment - the pause just before feet meet pavement. It is both physical and mental. Everything slows down, the day falls away, and for just a few fleeting seconds, there is only that moment in time. No past, no future, no rest of the day. There is only me, the path in front, and the goal, whatever it is that day.
It is freedom.
Today's run was at the lake near our house, and it was an incredible spring day. The pause before the run was a joy - every muscle in my body relaxed, the brain fog cleared, and the only emotion I was capable of was gratefulness. I was uninjured and getting ready to start a run, my legs felt strong, it was a beautiful day, and I had half an hour in front of me that was completely mine. It was complete relaxation, and it's nearly involuntary before a run these days. It just happens, and I look forward to it more and more each time I run.
I still enjoy the gritty, salty feeling of accomplishment after a nice long run, and the ability to eat copious amounts of chocolate without scale arguments is a nice bonus. But the pause before the run, when the world falls away for a few moments and anything is possible? That will keep me coming back more than anything else. And? It'll also help keep the therapy bills low. That's a win/win in my book.
There is a lot of therapeutic value to wearing your ass out with exercise. You just don't have the energy to stress out after a 2 hour tennis match or a 6 mile run. But I'm not sure you can say this is relaxation as much as it is simple exhaustion.
When we were at the beach recently, there was a moment where I could feel myself start to relax. The rhythm of the waves and the ocean breeze (ok, it might've been nearly a gale, but stay with me here) lulled me into a few moments of peace, where I could begin to understand the pull some people feel to live near the shore. It was almost like an involuntary surrender to nature, a fleeting feeling that was gone all too quickly.
I tried to recapture that feeling the entire time we were at the beach, but between kiddos and yummy shrimp salad and, well, "interesting" swimsuits and wardrobe malfunctions, I was only able to dance around the fringes of it.
But I realized after we got home that it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, only an unfamiliar situation. It might seem strange, but some of my most relaxing moments occur in the 30 seconds or so before I start a run. I've only recently realized how much I look forward to this moment - the pause just before feet meet pavement. It is both physical and mental. Everything slows down, the day falls away, and for just a few fleeting seconds, there is only that moment in time. No past, no future, no rest of the day. There is only me, the path in front, and the goal, whatever it is that day.
It is freedom.
Today's run was at the lake near our house, and it was an incredible spring day. The pause before the run was a joy - every muscle in my body relaxed, the brain fog cleared, and the only emotion I was capable of was gratefulness. I was uninjured and getting ready to start a run, my legs felt strong, it was a beautiful day, and I had half an hour in front of me that was completely mine. It was complete relaxation, and it's nearly involuntary before a run these days. It just happens, and I look forward to it more and more each time I run.
I still enjoy the gritty, salty feeling of accomplishment after a nice long run, and the ability to eat copious amounts of chocolate without scale arguments is a nice bonus. But the pause before the run, when the world falls away for a few moments and anything is possible? That will keep me coming back more than anything else. And? It'll also help keep the therapy bills low. That's a win/win in my book.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Strike Three
Various creatures and plants have ways of warning people that they are dangerous - cacti have spikes, blowfish get bigger, rattlesnakes have, well, rattles. There are days when I wish I had one of those mechanisms that would warn anyone within at least a 30 feet radius to not mess with me. Yesterday was one of those days.
It started off way too early after a very busy and tiring weekend. Storms rolled through around 5:30am, bringing with them a little girl to my bed. That in itself is ok, I certainly remember being scared of thunder when I was young, and it's a good excuse to snuggle. Unfortunately, little miss chatterbox kept up a steady stream of conversation, so that by about 6:15, I gave up. I needed to fix the boy a decent breakfast anyway before his testing session that morning. Strike one.
So I hauled myself out of bed (very carefully; there were lots of sore body parts), wandered to the bathroom and followed my morning ritual of stepping on the scale. Most of the time I don't pay too much attention to the exact number on the scale; as long as it is within a certain range, I couldn't care less what it is. But yesterday morning gave me a number I hadn't seen since I was losing pregnancy weight. Four years ago. This number was most decidedly out of the certain range. Damn. Apparently I over-fueled for all the workouts this weekend. And paid for it yesterday.
I don't know about you, but if my clothes fit tight (the ones that aren't supposed to fit tight), it just puts me in a bad mood. And believe me, I was in a bad mood. Strike two.
I manage to get the kiddos to school without too much wailing and gnashing of teeth and settled in to get some work done. Aside from a database issue, work at least went fairly smoothly. It stormed and rained like crazy until about noon, when it just got cold and very windy.
B had a ball practice scheduled for 5pm last night, so I watched my email all afternoon in case the coach decided to cancel. Finally, at 4:30, when no email had arrived and it appeared practice was on, I shut down my computer, rounded up his ball gear and set about getting him ready. This resulted in an epic meltdown on his part when he was trying to get his shoes on. I have no doubt that part of it was just him relieving some of the stress from the day, but man. He doesn't do that very often anymore. I was still irritable as hell, and I didn't handle the situation as well as I could have. We were both a little grumpy, but I let him have a cookie and we smoothed things over.
We finally got out the door and down to the practice area about 5 minutes early (amazingly enough). And sat there. And sat there. About 5:00, when no one else had showed up, B suggested I check my email. Although I had checked it at 4:30, right before I shut down the computer, I agreed and pulled out the crackberry. It was kind of strange that no one else was there yet, after all...
And there it was. The email canceling the 5:00 practice. Sent at 4:35. Because it was too cold, wet, and windy to practice. What. The. Hell. It had been cold and windy for four fucking hours by that point. The ground had been wet for ten hours. But they can't cancel the practice until 25 minutes before we're supposed to be there? Strike three. Maybe I should take myself out of the game before I hurt anyone...
I don't think I swore, but B got an earful on responsibility and how to behave when you are in charge and being considerate of other people's time. That is a big pet peeve of mine - don't waste people's time, most people don't have enough to begin with. And the last thing I wanted to do yesterday was have a meltdown with my son over a ball practice that could have been canceled around noon.
On the plus side, the rest of the evening went fine. J had tennis, so I'm sure he was just happy to be getting the hell out of the house, and I let the kiddos veg in front of the television while I read a book. All in all, it ended on a decent note, and I'm in a much better mood today. Thank god. Any more of that crappy mood and I was gonna put myself on the 10 day DL...
It started off way too early after a very busy and tiring weekend. Storms rolled through around 5:30am, bringing with them a little girl to my bed. That in itself is ok, I certainly remember being scared of thunder when I was young, and it's a good excuse to snuggle. Unfortunately, little miss chatterbox kept up a steady stream of conversation, so that by about 6:15, I gave up. I needed to fix the boy a decent breakfast anyway before his testing session that morning. Strike one.
So I hauled myself out of bed (very carefully; there were lots of sore body parts), wandered to the bathroom and followed my morning ritual of stepping on the scale. Most of the time I don't pay too much attention to the exact number on the scale; as long as it is within a certain range, I couldn't care less what it is. But yesterday morning gave me a number I hadn't seen since I was losing pregnancy weight. Four years ago. This number was most decidedly out of the certain range. Damn. Apparently I over-fueled for all the workouts this weekend. And paid for it yesterday.
I don't know about you, but if my clothes fit tight (the ones that aren't supposed to fit tight), it just puts me in a bad mood. And believe me, I was in a bad mood. Strike two.
I manage to get the kiddos to school without too much wailing and gnashing of teeth and settled in to get some work done. Aside from a database issue, work at least went fairly smoothly. It stormed and rained like crazy until about noon, when it just got cold and very windy.
B had a ball practice scheduled for 5pm last night, so I watched my email all afternoon in case the coach decided to cancel. Finally, at 4:30, when no email had arrived and it appeared practice was on, I shut down my computer, rounded up his ball gear and set about getting him ready. This resulted in an epic meltdown on his part when he was trying to get his shoes on. I have no doubt that part of it was just him relieving some of the stress from the day, but man. He doesn't do that very often anymore. I was still irritable as hell, and I didn't handle the situation as well as I could have. We were both a little grumpy, but I let him have a cookie and we smoothed things over.
We finally got out the door and down to the practice area about 5 minutes early (amazingly enough). And sat there. And sat there. About 5:00, when no one else had showed up, B suggested I check my email. Although I had checked it at 4:30, right before I shut down the computer, I agreed and pulled out the crackberry. It was kind of strange that no one else was there yet, after all...
And there it was. The email canceling the 5:00 practice. Sent at 4:35. Because it was too cold, wet, and windy to practice. What. The. Hell. It had been cold and windy for four fucking hours by that point. The ground had been wet for ten hours. But they can't cancel the practice until 25 minutes before we're supposed to be there? Strike three. Maybe I should take myself out of the game before I hurt anyone...
I don't think I swore, but B got an earful on responsibility and how to behave when you are in charge and being considerate of other people's time. That is a big pet peeve of mine - don't waste people's time, most people don't have enough to begin with. And the last thing I wanted to do yesterday was have a meltdown with my son over a ball practice that could have been canceled around noon.
On the plus side, the rest of the evening went fine. J had tennis, so I'm sure he was just happy to be getting the hell out of the house, and I let the kiddos veg in front of the television while I read a book. All in all, it ended on a decent note, and I'm in a much better mood today. Thank god. Any more of that crappy mood and I was gonna put myself on the 10 day DL...
Sunday, April 3, 2011
UGH
Another crazy day that isn't yet over.
You know that feeling you get when you KNOW you are forgetting something? I got that feeling as I was preparing for my run this afternoon. I just knew I was going to get to the lake and discover I had forgotten something, so I did a double check before I left the house. In my running bag: Shuffle, earbuds, Garmin, heart rate strap. Check. Outside my bag: Water jug. No, I apparently had everything, so I hoped I was just wrong.
No such luck. I had just about gotten to the lake when I discovered that somewhere between the house and car, I managed to lose my water jug. No big deal. I'd just run by the Kroger next to the lake and get a bottle of water from the machines with the $1.25 I managed to scrape together in my car.
Except the water bottle button I pressed was having an identity crisis and gave me a Diet Dr. Pepper instead. At least it was diet, I suppose? Nothing like sticky sugar residue in your mouth on a hot day...
So yeah. 8.12 miles* in 85 degree weather with a pit stop for lukewarm Diet Dr. Pepper. Yay. I knew it was time to stop when I started looking forward to running into the 20mph winds because it helped support my upper body. And now - a whiskey and Diet Dr. Pepper for my post run treat, a much needed shower, and dinner out.
*It was supposed to be 10 miles, but I figure the nearly 2 hours of tennis playing I did this morning should count for at least 2 miles, so I cut it short. On the plus side, I double bageled some poor lady on the court this morning. I suppose I should feel badly about it, but...I'm not in a nice mood right now. I'm just tired.
You know that feeling you get when you KNOW you are forgetting something? I got that feeling as I was preparing for my run this afternoon. I just knew I was going to get to the lake and discover I had forgotten something, so I did a double check before I left the house. In my running bag: Shuffle, earbuds, Garmin, heart rate strap. Check. Outside my bag: Water jug. No, I apparently had everything, so I hoped I was just wrong.
No such luck. I had just about gotten to the lake when I discovered that somewhere between the house and car, I managed to lose my water jug. No big deal. I'd just run by the Kroger next to the lake and get a bottle of water from the machines with the $1.25 I managed to scrape together in my car.
Except the water bottle button I pressed was having an identity crisis and gave me a Diet Dr. Pepper instead. At least it was diet, I suppose? Nothing like sticky sugar residue in your mouth on a hot day...
So yeah. 8.12 miles* in 85 degree weather with a pit stop for lukewarm Diet Dr. Pepper. Yay. I knew it was time to stop when I started looking forward to running into the 20mph winds because it helped support my upper body. And now - a whiskey and Diet Dr. Pepper for my post run treat, a much needed shower, and dinner out.
*It was supposed to be 10 miles, but I figure the nearly 2 hours of tennis playing I did this morning should count for at least 2 miles, so I cut it short. On the plus side, I double bageled some poor lady on the court this morning. I suppose I should feel badly about it, but...I'm not in a nice mood right now. I'm just tired.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Saturday Scrambling
Good lord today has been busy.
J has a tennis tournament this weekend, kicking off with an 8:30 match this morning. So he dragged my ass out of bed around 7:00 this morning, and by 7:20, we were all down at the tennis courts warming him up for his early match. I don't know about you, but my body isn't terribly cooperative before 9am. It did a lot of bitching and moaning during that warm up.
After that, the kiddos and I hit the bagel shop for breakfast, with a rousing game of Go Fish topping off the meal.
I then tackled a drain in our driveway that has been sluggish for months. As in, barely drains and causes our garage to flood regularly. Not cool. I learned that snaking a drain is a pain in the ass. And that our drain makes a 90 degree turn about 3 feet in, making any further snaking impossible. Crap. No easy fix there.
After cussing at the drain for about 45 minutes and doing a little other outdoor housekeeping that was vitally necessary, I got my muddy self cleaned up and we headed out for tball practice. Or whatever the season is called where they combine machine pitch and hitting off the tee. Transition, maybe?
The practice, which was for 6 and 7 year olds, lasted TWO HOURS. Holy hell. B did fantabulous, we were really proud of how well he held up. He also managed to hit a few machine pitched balls the first time out, so it bodes well. But two hours??? I guess it starts getting serious now...
After that? We hit Sonic for some ice cream, took B over to some friends' to play on their pitching machine for a while, and hauled ass out to A's tee ball practice. This one, fortunately, only lasted an hour. It's an all girls' team. In a co-ed tball league. And boy do I have a post for that one at another time. Suffice it to say that in the first team e-mail, I lost count of how many times the word "pink" was used. *Shudder*
And now? The kids have been bathed and dropped off at my mom's for the evening. I'm waiting on J to get home from his second tennis match of the day, and trying to figure out where I want to go for dinner. Because there had better be a good glass of wine wherever we go. But not too good - I have an 8:30 tennis match.
And it starts all over again - I really need Monday to come so I get a break.
J has a tennis tournament this weekend, kicking off with an 8:30 match this morning. So he dragged my ass out of bed around 7:00 this morning, and by 7:20, we were all down at the tennis courts warming him up for his early match. I don't know about you, but my body isn't terribly cooperative before 9am. It did a lot of bitching and moaning during that warm up.
After that, the kiddos and I hit the bagel shop for breakfast, with a rousing game of Go Fish topping off the meal.
I then tackled a drain in our driveway that has been sluggish for months. As in, barely drains and causes our garage to flood regularly. Not cool. I learned that snaking a drain is a pain in the ass. And that our drain makes a 90 degree turn about 3 feet in, making any further snaking impossible. Crap. No easy fix there.
After cussing at the drain for about 45 minutes and doing a little other outdoor housekeeping that was vitally necessary, I got my muddy self cleaned up and we headed out for tball practice. Or whatever the season is called where they combine machine pitch and hitting off the tee. Transition, maybe?
The practice, which was for 6 and 7 year olds, lasted TWO HOURS. Holy hell. B did fantabulous, we were really proud of how well he held up. He also managed to hit a few machine pitched balls the first time out, so it bodes well. But two hours??? I guess it starts getting serious now...
After that? We hit Sonic for some ice cream, took B over to some friends' to play on their pitching machine for a while, and hauled ass out to A's tee ball practice. This one, fortunately, only lasted an hour. It's an all girls' team. In a co-ed tball league. And boy do I have a post for that one at another time. Suffice it to say that in the first team e-mail, I lost count of how many times the word "pink" was used. *Shudder*
And now? The kids have been bathed and dropped off at my mom's for the evening. I'm waiting on J to get home from his second tennis match of the day, and trying to figure out where I want to go for dinner. Because there had better be a good glass of wine wherever we go. But not too good - I have an 8:30 tennis match.
And it starts all over again - I really need Monday to come so I get a break.
Friday, April 1, 2011
You Must Be Dreaming?
Alternate Title: More Educational Ranting.
Next week, Benjamin takes the Iowa Basic Skills test. I remember taking them in elementary school, although I can't remember if we took them in kindergarten. I remember them being important. I did not realize how much emphasis the school was placing on the test until B started talking about not passing kindergarten if he didn't do well on the test. Say WHAT?
A few days before spring break, the school sent home a thick packet of review materials for the test. I skimmed through the packet, realizing that pretty much the entire year's material had been geared towards this test. I'm not sure why, but this pissed me off. Yes, they are supposed to learn to read, and yes they are supposed to start math - but what about some science stuff? A few geography lessons? It felt so ... limited.
I know he hasn't just learned about reading and writing at school this year; we've had to do several projects that are beyond those two subjects. But I also know they have watched quite a few movies in class lately, and it irritates me.
While not really strict about it, our household generally does not watch much TV. B may get half an hour or so after he gets home from school to play Star Wars Xbox, but most nights, the television doesn't come again until he gets home from school the next day. There are often too many other things going on, and there's too little time between dinner time and bed time.** So if he's watching movies at school, not only is he decreasing his learning time, but he's also tripling and quadrupling the amount of television he gets on a normal weekday.
This morning, he told me about a dream he had last night, where he missed doing a page of some homework for the test. And he was worried about it because he was going to get into trouble. Isn't kindergarten a little young to be having test anxiety dreams? I suppose they have to emphasize it to some extent. Getting 5 and 6 year olds to take things seriously can be a bit (ok, more than a bit) challenging at times.
But really. I know I have a lot more of this in the future, with both kiddos. I'm just irritated at the emphasis this test gets, the fact that they've taught to the test so strongly, and the stress it puts on a kindergartner. I know he needs to get used to it, too; tests are just a part of schooling. And it's probably just a mama bear response to her kiddo already getting stressed about school. I suppose it will be a good indication of things we need to work on. But his confidence has already taken quite a hit, and he's nervous. It's just irritating.
And probably I shouldn't be that irritated - what else are they supposed to learn about in kindergarten, for goodness sakes? Reading and math are two foundations. I just need to get over it. And figure out how to give him enough confidence to not be nervous about the test. Right?
**OK, so it's baseball season again, and TV will probably be on a little more frequently at night. Gotta get the baseball fix, after all...
Next week, Benjamin takes the Iowa Basic Skills test. I remember taking them in elementary school, although I can't remember if we took them in kindergarten. I remember them being important. I did not realize how much emphasis the school was placing on the test until B started talking about not passing kindergarten if he didn't do well on the test. Say WHAT?
A few days before spring break, the school sent home a thick packet of review materials for the test. I skimmed through the packet, realizing that pretty much the entire year's material had been geared towards this test. I'm not sure why, but this pissed me off. Yes, they are supposed to learn to read, and yes they are supposed to start math - but what about some science stuff? A few geography lessons? It felt so ... limited.
I know he hasn't just learned about reading and writing at school this year; we've had to do several projects that are beyond those two subjects. But I also know they have watched quite a few movies in class lately, and it irritates me.
While not really strict about it, our household generally does not watch much TV. B may get half an hour or so after he gets home from school to play Star Wars Xbox, but most nights, the television doesn't come again until he gets home from school the next day. There are often too many other things going on, and there's too little time between dinner time and bed time.** So if he's watching movies at school, not only is he decreasing his learning time, but he's also tripling and quadrupling the amount of television he gets on a normal weekday.
This morning, he told me about a dream he had last night, where he missed doing a page of some homework for the test. And he was worried about it because he was going to get into trouble. Isn't kindergarten a little young to be having test anxiety dreams? I suppose they have to emphasize it to some extent. Getting 5 and 6 year olds to take things seriously can be a bit (ok, more than a bit) challenging at times.
But really. I know I have a lot more of this in the future, with both kiddos. I'm just irritated at the emphasis this test gets, the fact that they've taught to the test so strongly, and the stress it puts on a kindergartner. I know he needs to get used to it, too; tests are just a part of schooling. And it's probably just a mama bear response to her kiddo already getting stressed about school. I suppose it will be a good indication of things we need to work on. But his confidence has already taken quite a hit, and he's nervous. It's just irritating.
And probably I shouldn't be that irritated - what else are they supposed to learn about in kindergarten, for goodness sakes? Reading and math are two foundations. I just need to get over it. And figure out how to give him enough confidence to not be nervous about the test. Right?
**OK, so it's baseball season again, and TV will probably be on a little more frequently at night. Gotta get the baseball fix, after all...
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