To Feed the Ravenous Horde

who read my blog.  All three four of you!

I was thinking about writing about running.  Again.

  >.<  (this is my new favorite emoticon, btw)

and I realized just how deeply I obsess over new things. There was Elvis.  Then Tim Armstrong.  And  drawing. 

So, NOT about running.  Or sweating.  Not one word about sports bras. Ix-nay on the cute running shoes, slinky running socks, jazzy running shorts.    Not one syllable, except to say that I forgot how quickly the gentle drops of boring begin to fall when people talk about running.  My bad.

Ahem.

So, about these adventures I'm supposed to be undertaking.  What's up next?  Ziplining is what I want to do for my birthday, but I might be On Cosby then, as in out at the cabin.  With family.  And I can't afford to take them all! 

Suggestions?  What are all the other baby boomers doing for their 50ths?  What's hip and happening - other than my language?

Gotta Getta Blog Post

Today.

Goals.

I need 'em.

I completed my first ever sporting competition, that 5k.  Been walking a lot, and running some, and I think I'm precariously near the addiction point, but still waffling on the whole getting-out-of-bed thing.  It's hard when you're not sleeping well.  I like the idea of being a runner, the actual running not so much.  It takes me at least a mile to feel like being out there walking or running anyway.  I used to be a trail runner, back in my early high school career, before the cigarettes and when I was still thought of myself as a kid, not a neurotic teen.  (n.b. in my heart of hearts, I *still* feel like  a kid - particularly when my boss is yelling).  A bit directionless now, adrift in the afterglow of my medal-winning run.   So, I'm going to nail myself down some goals for the next few months.

ahem.

1.  Next 5k in October - the On Cosby Moonshine Run.  I will take 2 minutes off my last time, which I officially record as 30:44.  Eep, that sounds ambitious!  Eep, I'm all linky-linky today.  I will incorporate this into a mini-vacation at the cabin.  Hot tub!  Steaks!  Wine!  Yaaaaaaaaaaahoooooooooooooooo!

2.   In that active vein, I want to do the Santa Hustle as well.  My goal here?  To have a great time.  I'm hoping for eggnog instead of water.  I'd bet it'd be easier to drink.  I'd like my time to be at least in between the previous two; that is, better than the first (to show improved fitness) but slower than the second (so I can enjoy the run).

3.  To get back in the morning pages habit.  I bought a bunch of comp books at Staples for 10 cents a piece - now I just need to start writing in them.  Hard to figure out WHEN to do them.  I like to get my exercise over with first, and then it's morning chaos as we get ready for work and school.

Goals.

I got 'em.

My First Ever

Competitive sporting event. 

S R S L Y.

I do not remember ever competing on a team or as an individual in any kind of "official" competition.  I almost made the volleyball team in 8th grade (but I had to relocate), and I did do some running for exercise in high school (until I went to France and got out of the habit in 7 quick days).

So, here I am at the beginning of the first annual Racing to Remember 5k to benefit Alzheimer's Tennessee.  Did not even know I was being photographed.  Don't I look Serious?

I was a bit nervous.  There were, while not actual hills per se, some rises.  and I've been running the flattest flat that ever was.  I was advised to start slow and I did.  I chose a person to follow and follow her I did until she started walking.  Then I found another person to follow, and on and on.  I had two gentlemen, one slightly ahead of me and the other slightly behind me, who were determined not to be beaten by a girl, and that was all kinds of annoying.  I was just trying to finish.

And finish I did.  I only walked twice.  Once, when I attempted to drink water (bad idea) and again towards the end near the top of one of the blasted rises.  My goal was to run the whole thing, and while I didn't, I'm hella proud that I completed it.  All by myself.

At the end, everyone sort of gathered about, drinking water and visiting, and I ran in to my yoga friend who BUSTED it with some ungodly 27 minute time and a whole bunch of other people I knew from high school and through my kids.  I would have left, but the road out was blocked with sweaty bodies.  So, I hung out, chatted and won a door prize!  Then, to top it off, I won medal.  2nd place in my age group.

I would have been happy with the t-shirt.

The Day Before...

(cue thought-provoking serious music)

Tomorrow, I run.

I've been training for a couple of months, adding 30 seconds more running here, walking 30 seconds less there and the first Monday after I got back from My Paddleboarding Adventure, I knew I had to leave the dog in the crate and see how far I could go, so that I would have some idea of how deeply I might be embarrassing myself on Saturday.

I don't think I slept two hours in a row Sunday night.  I kept waking up with dread, thinking I'm going to try to run and I'm going to DIE a quarter mile in.  Fear and dread!  Anxiety and trepidation!

And it went...

well.  Surprisingly well.  I walked my normal five minute warmup, and started to run.  I promised myself that I would stop when I felt physically unable to continue.

I kid you not, I became Forrest Freaking Gump.  I didn't run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours, but I ran about 25 minutes without stopping.  Without throwing up.  Without a side stitch!

And I felt like I could've run more if I'd needed to.

I did feel like I was in early shin splints, but that wore off with some ibuprofen and some rest.  I planned to do this run-until-I-can't one more time before race day.

And my schedule went all to hell.  Did not get to run again until this morning, and I sure didn't want to run two days in a row, but I'm going to.  Did the 5 minute warmup, which is probably just under a quarter mile and ran all but the last 2 tenths of TWO miles.  My left ankle complained a lot at first and then shut the hell up.  In short, in the words of Gwen Stefani, I am hella positive for real.


But, good dress, bad show as the actors say.

Say your prayers for me tomorrow.

The Adventure Begins

Well, technically, it started the minute we merged on to I-75 and began our Quest for Fun, me and the Little Amiga, a/k/a Jose, a/k/a #2 daughter.  Me driving 550 miles south, solo so to speak as #2 is not yet of driving age.  Yes, I was nervous.  Yes, I was a little scared.  I saw more than one lady in the breakdown lane staring intently under the hood of her vehicle and I said several prayers that that would NOT be me on this trip.  I remember hitting the Point of No Return just outside Birmingham and thinking this is where, if I do need help, I call Mom and Dad, not my husband!  (And technically, it would have been AAA anyway).

Ok, so I stretched myself a bit.  Went out of my comfort zone.  Waaaaay out at times.  There's a fine line between stretching your wings and flapping your arms in a lunatic fashion.  See me above on the SUP, the Stand Up Paddleboard.  Which is new my Favorite Thing EVER.  Spent three hours learning how to do this.  The toughest part was getting it back across the street to the rental shop in a driving wind.  Awkward.  #2 saw a porpoise fin in the water behind us.  Set a new SUP record in her age group.  Unofficially, of course.

I also braved my fear of heights and rode the 360 Pensacola Beach Observation Wheel with my Dad.  Very nervous going up, but it was so quiet and smooth I got used to it quick.  I did not like seeing the very ordinary rubber tires that they use on it - what they are for, idk, some kind of cog buffer, I suppose.  But it was a very cool experience and some good views.

Note:  #2 is sitting in the van beside the handicapped parking spot.  She would not conquer her fear of heights on this trip.