Ahhh, The Tennis

I played doubles last night with my regular Tuesday group. There are 5 or so of us who rotate through on Tuesday nights for doubles, and it's really worked out well. We are all competitive, but not overly concerned with winning, and the conversation topics are pretty amusing sometimes. We've covered everything from bad line calls, farts (or 'poots') during massages and chiropractic visits, and one memorable evening there was even a cameltoe discussion. Yeah. Good stuff.

One of the conversations we had a few weeks ago was about how you can tell Siri, voice of the new iPhone, to 'call' you something.  E.g., "Siri, call me A."  And she will do it.  I haven't tried this out, but I've seen it in the commercial - "Siri, call me Rock God."  "Ok, you are Rock God."

Now, last night, one of the players on the other side of the net missed an easy shot, and in a moment of frustration called herself a dumbass. Wait, I think I've said this before, but it's not just 'dumbass.'  No, it's her trademark "yeewwww dummmaaaahhhhhssss."  She has a great southern accent, so this is pretty damn funny in and of itself.

However. My doubles partner then pipes up and says to this particular lady, "Hey B. I want you to know that Siri's been calling me 'Dumbass' for the last few days in honor of you." So her phone now calls her "dumbass."  Totally priceless. I think it took us all about 10 minutes to recover from the laughing fit.  Seriously - the tennis is never just about the exercise. Occasionally it's about being a dumbass too. 

Recovery Complete

Life has been insane lately. Both baseball and softball have started up, so now we've got practices and games most days of the week, in addition to school, work, tennis, running, and other assorted life activities. Whew. Makes me tired just thinking about it.

Today was the first 'long run' I've done since the marathon. I knocked out just over 8.5 miles, but more importantly, I felt good at the finish. I could easily have gone another hour or so, which bodes well for the next half marathon on the schedule in a few weeks.  Hopefully the one coming up won't be as hot as it was last year, but the current trend in weather isn't promising - it was already slightly on the warm side today. Crazy that it's not even April yet...

While the Iron is Hot...

So I ironed tonight - we all know how rare that is, right?  And as I was ironing, I noticed reddish spots appearing on some of my clothes.  Slightly irritating on my newly-crisped white shirt...

Eventually, I discovered that it was rust coming off the starch can, which made me wonder how long it's been since I bought a can of starch. My first thought was that it very well could have been in the time BC - before children. Then I laughed, thinking that it couldn't be possible that I've ironed so little that I haven't needed to buy starch in 7 years.

Did you know they put the dates on the bottom of starch cans?

Yeah. Me neither.

The rust laden can? Date: April 2005. Just three months after B was born. Which means it was probably purchased well before he was born.

Holy shit. It's been over 7 years since I bought a can of starch.

On the plus side, tonight I feel like I have a whole new wardrobe to wear this week - score! And I think I finished off the rusty can - guess it's time to buy a new can of starch. If I follow this trend, B will have a learners permit to drive by the time I buy another can of starch...

Hiatus...

Writers block. Spring Break. Crazy kids. Softball games. Baseball games. Tennis season. Take your pick. Back soon.

Getting Better...

Today I was able to walk down a flight of stairs without leaning most of my weight on the handrail and grimacing with every step. I didn't even walk like my legs had forgotten that they could bend. And squatting wasn't impossible (sure, it took about 10 seconds to get down into a squat, but it was doable).

This is serious progress, folks.

I've had a few aches and pains, the quads have just about screamed themselves out, and I've gone to bed around 8:30 the last couple of nights. Other than that, I feel pretty good after Sunday's long run.

So the question now is - what now? I did a half marathon in Fayetteville in April of last year. I will probably run it again this year, and hope for something cooler than 70 degree start temps and something less than 30 mph headwinds. That sucked donkey balls last year.

I've also got to figure out how to stay motivated. I'm not playing as much tennis right now, and my regular running has been pretty nonexistent except for long runs on the weekend. Maybe a gym for some yoga? Maybe unearth my bike from our disaster of a garage? I'm not sure what's next...but I'm pretty sure I don't have to figure it out this week. This week, I rest. I earned it.

This morning on the way to work I saw a car with a "26.2" sticker on it.

For the first time, I didn't have to feel the least bit envious about it. I did a marathon this weekend, and I came out of it feeling pretty good and totally willing to do another (NOT ANYTIME SOON). Yes. I am a badass, and proud of it. (OK, there are plenty of folks a lot more badass than I am, but I'm taking my time in the sun here; it's not every day that you are only 3 days removed from running 26.2 miles).

Eventually, I'll stop talking about the race. But damn. It's been a long time since I've been this proud of something, and I'm enjoying the hell out of it.

At Least I'm Not Pregnant...

Well, I'm fairly certain I've been sorer than I am today, although my quads are screaming bloody murder when I attempt stairs. I WILL say that I've never had my big toes get sore before, but I guess when you consider how many times I pushed off over 26+ miles, that just makes sense. Still, that seems like an odd place to get sore.

This morning, I had Benjamin pick up something off the floor for me because my quads just screamed too loudly to let me squat down. It reminds me of being pregnant, when one of my worst fears was dropping something that I'd have to bend over and pick up. The main difference this time is that, by mid week, the worst should be over. I'll take that over being knocked up any day.

DNF Is NOT an Option

Well. Yesterday, J called me from the LR Marathon / Half marathon expo and told me that if I decided to drop down to the half, I wouldn't get a finishing time and would be listed as DNF - DID NOT FINISH. See, when we signed up 6 months ago, we'd both signed up for the full. Since then, J has trained perfectly. I ... have not. I never did the 20 miler that is a rite of passage before a marathon. I never even did an 18 miler, and I'd all but quit running during the week. I can taper with the best of 'em, right? Regardless, I knew that running the half would be smarter, given my less-than-stellar training, but if I'd done that today, I'd been listed as DNF.  Did not finish.  That feels so uncool.

See, I'd been toying with the idea of running the full all week, but had pretty much decided that the Half would be much smarter.  I never said I was all THAT intelligent.

Last night, J and I drove the full marathon course - the part we hadn't already run during half marathons in the past. And by the end of the evening, I'd pretty much decided to give the full a go. I'm  not sure when, if ever, I'll have this solid of a running base. Even though the longest I went in training was 16 miles, I felt like if I ran smart, I could probably finish the damn thing. And I did do three 16 milers in training, each of which helped me know what works and what doesn't on long runs.

I never said ANYTHING about finishing fast.  Finishing was all I was after.

One of the most important things I learned during my training was that I have to eat while I run. I take about 150 calories every hour, sometimes a little more than that. That is apparently enough to get me through, and it worked like a charm today. Every time I started going into negative thought land, every time I started thinking about how long I still had to go, I ate something. Apparently, my stomach and my mental status are strongly connected.  Who knew?

The most interesting part of the day happened right about the first split of the marathoners and half marathoners. See, in the LR marathon, the marathoners and the half marathoners run the first 11 or so miles together. Then, there is a split, where you have to decide what you are doing. Marathoners go straight, halvers go right. As I was approaching the split, I was listening to one of my podcasts, and the topic du jour was "fear of road races." 

I decided it was a sign, and it just helped reinforce the decision to go straight.

In the end, I finished at 5 hours and 7 minutes. Although it wasn't horrible, it still feels crazy to have started running at 8 this morning and finished at 7 minutes after 1 this afternoon. But I finished, and I'm totally thrilled and actually pretty damn proud. That was a long freakin' way to run, and how lucky am I to have legs strong enough to do that. Deeply satisfying.

Tomorrow, when I can't sit down, when I might go down stairs backwards, I may feel differently. Tonight, I'm just very, very satisfied.