That Fluttery Feeling

I overslept this morning and didn't have time to run.

Ironically, not running in the morning makes me feel like I'm running all day long. I literally get that fluttery, breathless feeling as my mind races too fast, my pulse pounds and my muscles twitch.

When the day is stressful, it's worse. Today I had a hard time keeping all wheels on the ground, pointed in the same direction.

 Here's hoping for a better tomorrow.

Habits

OK, today was a better day than yesterday and I'm not feeling quite so defeated. Just goes to show you to not give in or give up when the mood strikes. 

And, it has also reminded me of the power of a habit. Good and bad. 

I have not been in the habit of running every day. When I was actively training for the half, I had to get longer runs in. Longer runs meant less frequent runs because my knees couldn't take it. So I got used to running every other day. 

I need to re-start the habit of cardio every day. 

I also got in the habit of not eating so great over the past few months ... mostly because I didn't have to! The effort of putting in all those miles had a side benefit. 

I need to stop the habit of eating sloppy. 

(And, for the record, today I ate approximately 100 Tootsie Rolls, so I didn't do so well.)

"They" say it takes 21 days to form a new habit. Guess I've got a few weeks to go. 

Battling

This is supposed to get easier, right?

I mean, I've battled a long way. I thought I was in control. I thought I had this all locked up.

But here's the truth: It's a fight every day.

I'm up a few pounds after the long weekend. And I've been up those few pounds since I finished my half marathon. It's working on my head. Bumming me out. Making me feel like giving up or giving in.

And, perhaps worst of all, giving me those little thoughts of, "Why bother? This is too hard. Would gaining 10 pounds be so bad?"

Yes. Yes, it would be bad.

The good news is I've been at this long enough to know what to do. Step 1: Shake it up ... find a new exercise, a new goal, a new schedule, a new pattern. Step 2: Do most things right all the time ... eat the right stuff, exercise enough. Step 3: Don't let your head beat you ... stop thinking and start moving.

Today's Choices

1. Give the bouncy house knee one more day of rest. Strength workout instead.

2. Not many great options at the little family restaurant we land at for lunch. Split a cheeseburger with Olivia, order a side salad and sneak more than a couple french fries from my sister. 

3. Opt for the 75-cent bag of plain popcorn (vs. the strawberry cheesecake variety, yummy cheese corn, caramel corn) at the popcorn store. Then snitch a handful of my sister's caramel corn. Hey, that's what sisters are for!

4. Say and early good-bye to the family and head home for dinner. They're having pizza. It's half-price night at my favorite pizzeria! I have salad at home. 

5. Fruit for dessert. 

It's not perfect. But as you can see, it could have been worse. 

Bouncer Down

Bum Knee + Bounce House = Bad Idea

Sometimes you just gotta admit that 44 years old is too old for some things. Really hoping this is a temporary issue.

Dear Treadmill

Dear Treadmill,

I'm happy you waited for me. This morning's rain and this afternoon's party meant I couldn't get my miles on outside. So it was nice to know you were downstairs waiting for me. You let me ramp up the incline, crank up the speed and get three solid miles in while working up a nice little sweat.

Love, Miss Daisy

P.S. Dear Workout Room Floor: Sorry about that dropped 10 lb. weight ... and the chunk it took out of you. Still not sure how that happened and really hoping Jim can fix you up good as new. We put you on the floor because we thought  you were indestructible. You have disappointed me. I guess you fit right in, though. We all have a few nicks and dings in this house.

Grilled Cheese Jesus

You know what I'm talking about, right? Jesus' face on a grilled cheese sandwich. Or the Virgin Mary Cheeto. Or a Jay Leno potato.

They sell them on ebay. Or sometimes, if it's a weeping Virgin in a concrete viaduct in central Guatemala, believers bring the infirm to be blessed.

Well, I had a Siamese red seedless grape on Thursday morning. (Or maybe the politically correct term is "conjoined?") I was in my car, on the way to work, and  there it was. Two grapes, grown together. Kind of looked like butt cheeks. Or boobs.

The thought of making millions via The National Enquirer crossed my mind.

And then I ate it. (See yesterday's post.)

How's It Possible?

I woke up this morning hungry. As usual. I went downstairs, did a bit of strength training, some sit-ups and leg/butt lifts. Felt the burn, but no cardio. I showered quickly so I could get my Bagel Thin and peanut butter inside my rumbling tummy and then polished off some grapes on the way to work.

Ate Subway veggie sub and Sun Chips for lunch.

By 5 p.m., on my way home from Madison, my stomach was grumbling audibly. I had nothing in the car to nosh on and just enough restraint to not stop at a convenience store. But by the time I got home, I couldn't shove stuff in my mouth fast enough. Carrots and dip. Two big pretzels. Two pieces of chocolate.

Then Jim came home. He'd been working all day in the wind, shoveling and spreading mulch, moving a big pile of rocks, from softball to basketball size. And he mowed. And weeded.

In other words, he was MUCH more active than me.

So here we are, at 6:30, trying to get dinner on the table. He says he's hungry. And I ask what he ate all day.

He says, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" I reply, just can't get my head around that.

"No, nothing," he says. "I was working. When I'm working, I don't think about eating."

"Don't think about it?:" I ask. "It never crosses your mind or ..."

"I just don't want to take the time to eat," he says.

What the hell? I can't comprehend this AT ALL. I would love to have that brain for just one month. Or maybe one year.

In the end, food is fuel. You need it, but it's still just fuel. It's not your enemy. It's not your friend. It's not your addiction. It's not good or evil. It's just food.

And when you think you're "powerless" against it, you're wrong. You always have a choice.

30-5-4.8

This is the magical combination for Tuesday morning's run.

30: The number of cars that passed me. Busy freaking morning. (And counting them helps me pass the time.)

5: The number of turkeys that crossed my path. One after the other, parade-like.

4.8: The number of miles I ran.

And, do you want to know what this morning's secret combination was?

0-1-1-3

As in,

0 cars passed me.

1 raccoon and 1 opossum scampered off when they saw me coming, not nearly as brave as those turkeys!

And 3 hilly miles were conquered.

Beautiful mornings, both.

Plum-a-licious!

Plums are in season! Plums are in season! Plums are in season!

I prefer the "red" variety ... the skins aren't so sour. And I like them sort of crunchy and cold from the 'fridge. I could eat 10 a day. 

And, I just might. At 30-40 calories per fruit, that's not so terrible, right? 

Perception and Reality

Here's what's swirling around in my head today:

1. I bought a pair of black capri pants Sunday at Maurice's ... a 7/8. I tried on a pair of turquoise jean capris today at Target ... an 11 ... and couldn't get them over my calves. Why is it that Jim can walk into any store in any city and fit into a 34?

2. When I was newly thin, I found myself stealing looks at myself all the time, happy to see the flatter tummy, the neck, the collar bones. Now that I've gotten used to the newer me, my body no longer seems  "thin" in the same way. It's not fat. It's just not where I want it to be and I'm having a hard time not focusing on the imperfections. I feel like my eyes and my head have changed a little.

3. The body I was so proud of pouring into a bikini last year is having a hard time finding one this year. See number 2.

4. I'm not as toned as I was a year ago, though I'm able to run much farther and faster. I think that's weird. When I was eating better and working out less intensely, but more regularly, my body was tighter. It's a lifestyle. Not a project.

5. I have a new goal weight. I think I know the number where I'm supposed to be. I think I can be there by  September in a very manageable way. But I have to get back into militant mode. I want to feel better. I am proud of how far I have become. But I am not done. I haven't finished what I set out to do. Yet.

The Scale and Treadmill Speak

Where the hell are you?

Don't think you can ignore us and still stay skinnier. It won't work.

And if you think we're going to beg you to come back, you're wrong. It doesn't work that way. This is your gig. All yours. If you want it, you gotta work for it and you gotta keep track of it.

Get off your ass and put some time in, Missy, or you'll be REALLY sorry.

Love,
Us

Unusual Favorite Things

These items are new to my repertoire. I'm including the places you'll find them.

1. Chimes Ginger Mango Chews
Found these at Marshall's on Madison's west side and have to admit ... the first one I put in my mouth thoroughly confused me. Texture like a really chewy date. Sort of sweet. And really spicy ... but not like hot pepper spicy. Just sharp and warming. That's the ginger. Bizarre. But addicting. And now I'm obsessing and need more. Other flavors available (per Google research): Orange, Peppermint, Peanut Butter and just straight Ginger. The mint makes NO sense to me. And the Peanut Butter sounds so weird that I have to try it. Bonus ... apparently ginger is good for nausea ... like from morning sickness or motion sickness. If I could eat candy vs. taking Dramamine, I'm in!

2. Blue Diamond Natural Oven Roasted Almonds, Butter Toffee and Dark Chocolate Flavors
These are sold in the "chip/snack" section of my Pick 'N Save by the peanuts and popcorn. They come in a 6" tall plastic bottle with a flip-top lid and 1-oz. serving size marks on the bottle like a measuring cup. They're just sweet enough to feel decadent. They're almonds so they're good fat. And they crunch.

3. Queso Fresco
Think Feta, but wetter and better. I have to be careful not to buy it too often, because I eat it in big hunks. Salty and yummy. Available at normal grocery stores and cheaper at Mexican tiendas.

4. Tajin Spice Mix
I think I've talked about this before. I believe it's a Mexican seasoning and I get it at WalMart in the produce section. It's lime, chili and salt ... great in Mexican and Asian food. I use it to make salad dressing, as a meat rub, on grilled veg and even as a hummus perker-upper when I don't have roasted red peppers.

5. Kashi Island Vanilla Shredded Wheat and Kashi Go Lean Crunch cereals.
You've seen the commercials. Seven whole grains on a mission. It's not that much pricier than "regular" cereal and while we don't eat  LOT of cereal, this is a good option for when you want some. The crunch can be sprinkled on yogurt for a "parfait" feeling. Pick 'N Save has a big Kashi selection.

6. Homemade Whole Wheat Pita Chips dipped in Nutella
Nutella has about the same fat as reduced fat Skippy per serving. 'Nuf said.

May 2012 Good News/Bad News

Good news: My 2-mile route per Map My Run turns out to be 2.4 on Jim's truck odometer! So every time I think I'm running 4 miles, I'm really running almost 5. (Though he's counting the driveway and I don't.) And, he insists that my 4-mile route is 5.23, though I haven't clocked it myself. Nice surprise.

Bad news: Wasabi peas are FRIED! OK, so I already knew they didn't count as vegetables (peas and corn don't, remember) and that they had way too much salt. But to know that the reason they're crunchy is because they're fried really bums me out. I learned this bummer fact from The Hungry Girl. http://www.hungry-girl.com/askhg/show/2290

The Husband Speaks

So she texts me before she leaves work. "Let's walk to 2-for-1 burgers tonight. Leaving work now."

I don't send a reply. Maybe by the time she gets home she won't remember sending it. She's forgetful. Very forgetful.

But no ... she piles in the back door (not a dainty, light-footed girl, my wife), and asks hopefully, "There's really nothing in the house to eat ... want to walk to Skip's?"

No. I don't. But then she whips out, "I thought I'd help you get ready for that 5K on Saturday."

Sure. Challenge me. She knows I won't back down. "OK, but if we're going to go, let's get to gettin'. I want to put that faucet in the basement bathroom when we get home. We're burning daylight."

She wanders off into the bedroom to get out of her work clothes and hollers, "Aren't you going to change?"

Change? Why change? What's wrong with blue jeans and an old button-up work shirt?

"You're seriously going to walk 4 miles in baggy blue jeans? How is that comfortable?" she ponders out loud, mildly exasperated.

"Fine. I'll change," I say, making it sound like a very big chore. I have absolutely no idea what difference it makes. I put on blue jean SHORTS just to irritate her.

We walk the 2 miles into town. She flaps her gums most of the way.

We sit down at the table and order and she asks, "Do you love me?" as she does sometimes.

"I walked to get supper, didn't I?"

Eating done, headed back and we're rounding the final corner to the house when she says, "See ... isn't it nice ... especially when there's so much to do and we're so busy ... to slow down just for a night and spend some time together? Someday when we're old we'll look back on this and ..."

"Say why the hell didn't we drive?" I quickly interject.

The Dog Speaks

Miss Daisy comes home from work. She lets me out the front door and I can see it's a simply beautiful day. This makes me happy! I love to be outside! Wait! What's that? I see Miss Daisy putting on those green running shoes at the back door. Yipee! That means we're going for a walk ... highly unusual at this time of the day. Since Jim's not home yet, I guess there's time to get a nice leisurely stroll in before dinner.

Love walks! Love walks! Love walks!

Remember Miss Daisy when I was a puppy and we lived in that little house in town? We'd traipse all over those sidewalks! We had a two-mile route that was great! There was that loud barking fat Beagle on Bond Place. And the Black Labs that would hurl themselves at the picture window on Arch Street! And all those people we'd meet near Franklin Middle School? They'd stop you and admire me, asking, "What kind of dog is that? She's so pretty!"

And you'd always say, "She's a mutt," killing my mojo.

And remember when you had your hysterectomy six years ago? You were kind of slow for the first couple of weeks. But you quickly realized that the more you walked, the better you felt. So during that six-week recovery time, we put on a LOT of miles, didn't we? Some days we'd go four miles in the morning and four miles in the afternoon. (Because, let's face it. Daytime TV sucks and you really were looking for ANY excuse to not do that horrid scrapbook project for Kati's graduation, right?)

And then we moved to the country and I had room to rove. I could run around outside. But you stopped taking me on walks. You stopped walking, actually. Until recently, that is. When you picked it back up, I accompanied you downstairs every morning to your treadmill. I enjoyed sniffing around the stuff in the basement as you sweat for an hour. That was a pretty good gig for me.

But I need to tell you something.

Tonight when you came home and let me out, I was happy to see you putting on running shoes. I was enthusiastic about going for a nice afternoon walk. I'm a dog, after all. Enthusiastic is my middle name.

We walked up the hill. Great. I'm out in front, pulling you a little, in the way I like to.

And then you wrecked it. You started to run. You ran for about a mile before you even noticed I was falling behind and breathing hard.

Did you forget I'm 10 years old? Ten. That's 70 in people years, you heartless wench. I'm 70 freaking years old and you're dragging me around on a leash. You know I WANT to run. You know I want to kick it in gear and go.

But I'd like to see you at 70 hoofing it around the neighborhood! What's the matter with you?

After about a mile, you did back off on the run and walk a little, patronizing me with:

"What's the matter old girl ?" (OLD GIRL? Really? Not nice.)

"I'll slow down and let you catch your breath." (Gee, thanks. I'm 70 for cry-eye! Thanks for being so kind, you snot.)

"Think you can make it home? It's only another mile and a half. I can't carry you!" (Shut the hell up now. I'll get there under my own power.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm happy you're exercising and everything. I mean, really, it's good. But couldn't you have had this idea five years ago when I was only 35?

I would have been the best pace car ever.

Beautiful Morning Rush Hour

Confession: My workout habits have been lax since the race. To complicate matters, the two weeks before the race were "taper," and the four weeks before that were full of travel. Which means I haven't had consistent, hardcore, full workout weeks in at least two months.

I've become accustomed to taking days off. Sleeping a little later. Not pushing it much.

It's a bad new habit.

So I made up my mind to be a bit more diligent this week. I ran Saturday. Rode my bike on Sunday and did some decent heart-rate-raising yardwork. Goofed up and slept in on Monday. And decided to switch it up today.

I ran  ... outside ... before work. Normally, my morning runs are on the treadmill. But it's light so early now, I couldn't think of a reason to not run outside. And I thought it would be good for my head to switch things up.

I was right.

The morning was beautiful. The birds were waking up and there's a whole different chorus early in the morning compared to the sounds I'm accustomed to in the afternoon or late morning. The air smelled sweet and new. The light was beautiful.

And the 6:30 a.m. rush hour was in full swing.

My long stretch is about 1.7 miles on a 55 mph road that runs straight east-west. Which means as the sun is coming up over the horizon, it's a little blinding to those headed due east. Since I run against traffic, I worry that I'm not as noticeable when the sun is in the driver's eyes.

I was extra careful and set a goal of running faster than usual. I got passed by about 30 cars, which is highly unusual. But it also keeps you on your toes. I feel like I need to "look strong" when someone is passing me. The little extra incentive is nice.

Lucky for me, today was one of those days I could have kept going forever. I felt strong and light and coordinated. Not sweaty, winded and labored like usual.

A quick 4-ish miles in under 40 minutes. This isn't fast for everyone. But it's fast for me.

What a way to start the day!

Frenzied Food Fanatic

There are times when I get to this point in the day and I start to go over everything I ate so far and I'm horrified.

Do you have these days, too?

I get in these moods where I just literally can't stop eating. Sunday, I woke up and had some fruit. Then some hummus and chips. Then some grapes. Then a handful of cereal. Then some more grapes. I went for a bike ride to get myself out of the house and away from the food. But upon my return, I had a pretzel. And a soda. And some more grapes. And some more hummus and chips. And a corner slice of pizza.

This is before 11 a.m., mind you.

We headed out the door to my mom's and the fun continued. Chex mix. peanuts, fake crab, Flamin' Hot Cheetos, steak, potatoes, asparagus, lemon bars, Rice Krispie squares, cantaloupe, chocolate covered strawberries ...

Ugh.

I bet I didn't go 15 minutes without stuffing something in my face. It's freaking ridiculous.

I hate the feeling of being sort of out of control.

I get possessed by the desire to chew. And swallow. And taste. And I keep shoving it in, as if I'm going on a death march and I need to pack in as many calories as possible because I'm not sure when my next meal will be coming.

Even in the middle of it, I'm logically saying, "Stop!" inside my head. But there are days it seems like I can't.

"Maintain" is still eluding me.

Great Grillin'!

How I love the grill!

You can make ANYTHING taste fabulous with olive oil, sea salt and pepper. On last night's menu was smoked pork chops (from Rocky's favorite meat market in Fennimore), zucchini, summer squash, mushrooms, red pepper and red onion. Tossed a little chopped garlic in for good measure.

So simple. So delicious. And ... enough leftovers for a kick butt skillet scramble now on the Monday night menu!

Lisa Pizza

Miss Daisy has an Uncle Lyle who is not REALLY her uncle, but might as well be. He gave her the pizza nickname, just because it rhymed, I believe. I've been thinking a lot about pizza lately (and Uncle Lyle, too ...) and thought I'd work it out here.

Pizza was one of those things we just Did. Not. Eat. while we were in the hardcore losing phase. It was simply easier to avoid it altogether. I knew I was not one of those people who could confidently eat one reasonable slice, light on the cheese, and enjoy a big salad alongside. No way, no how. Who eats one modest and slender slice of pizza? I've never seen it done and I dare to say it can't be done my mere mortals.

But now that my eating is more flexible, more lenient, more tolerant, I am finding pizza to be a welcomed return guest.

Sure, there are lots of ways to make pizza healthier. You can mix and match ingredients all day long. Tomato sauce, barbecue sauce, enchilada sauce, pesto or olive tapanade? Thin whole wheat crust, toasted pita or tortilla? Mozzarella, Laughing Cow Light, queso fresco? Mushrooms, peppers, olives, chicken, ground turkey, onions, zucchini, artichoke hearts ... you get the idea.

Here's a couple of my skinny pizza recipes: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2012/01/skinny-pizza.html

In the past few months, I have probably eaten 'za five times. And I really look forward to it. In fact, I obsess a little about it ... counting down the days until I'm scheduled to imbibe. Planning the next visit.

As with any not-so-figure-friendly food, I know that if I plan for it, I can enjoy it ... in moderation. If I literally sit down and actively think about how I'm going to eat it (what toppings, how many pieces, what could I eat with it, how should I plan for leftovers and when I'll eat those), I feel more in control and don't just jump in and wipe out the whole pie in a eating frenzy.

Last night, we went to a pizza restaurant. I ordered the baked fish, knowing Jim was getting pizza. After eating my vegetables and fish, I did "sneak" a corner piece. And today I raided the fridge for another piece at lunchtime. Now I'm satisfied.

And, already planning the next two trips (to the new Tilly's in Beloit and the new Romano's in Janesville).

Buon appetito!

Conversation

Her: I know i have probably asked before but where did you get the ambition and will power to exercise every day?

Me: You just have to make up your mind. It sounds kind of stupid, but that's the truth. You have to decide you are worth it and that you want it MORE than you want a candy bar. And after a while, after you put some "work" in, you don't want to wreck it. You don't want to waste all that effort. So it gets easier to keep going.

And you probably can't work out every day. But you can decide to do it today. And then decide again to do it tomorrow.  One day at a time. You CAN do it.

Her: Wish i could just pay for lipo and a tummy tuck ... LOL!

Me: But if you don't learn how to eat differently and move more, it would just be a waste of $ because it would all come back!

Her: True ... why can't we just be gifted skinny?

Me: I'm jealous of those folks with the amazing metabolism that never give eating a second thought. Or the ones like my niece who just don't care at all about food and would forget to eat if you didn't remind them to do it. That's not me! I'm thinking about breakfast before I finish dinner!

Her: I went grocery shopping today and it felt like an all-day event ... looking at every little calorie per thing and sodium and carbs. Ugh! That was exhausting!

Me: I promise it gets easier! And I find grocery shopping FASTER now because I spend very little time in the actual aisles. I just hit the perimeter ... produce, meat, dairy and out.

Her: I find it hard eat some things but am getting better at it.

Me: You go, girl!

It's Like Childbirth?

OK, you all know I've never birthed my own baby, so I really have no point of reference for childbirth. Therefore, the title of this post is a little tongue-in-cheek.

But, I think I'm having a childbirth-like moment, post half-marathon, in that I've already sort of forgotten the "pain" and stress and worry and am now trying to figure out what I want to do next and how I'm going to do it.

(And yes, I still haven't run or walked a step since I crossed the finish line.)

I'm discovering that the sense of accomplishment is addicting and the endorphins are still flowing.

I've heard that the first big race is about finishing ... learning how to eat and how to pace and how to handle the start line. How to pass someone and how to get passed. How it feels to push and how it feels to finish. How to get your head in the right place.

Pre-race me thought that once all the hoopla was over, I'd be satisfied ... and "done." Happy to leave the self-inflicted pressure behind, not wanting to jump right back into the fire.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure that's the case. My brain is spinning.

What if I had done this vs. that? How much time could I shave off? How could I finish stronger? How many weeks before I could do it again? If I'm already at 13 miles, what would it take to go 26? Why wait a while and start over ... wouldn't it be more efficient to build from here? Could I even do that? Am I ready to commit that kind of time?

Logical-me reminds endorphin-high-me that I was so ready to be "done" before this race. What the hell am I thinking?

So, moms. Is this what it's like? You forget the bad stuff because the good stuff is so overpowering?

No doubt that your brain is the most amazing muscle!

Break Time

Day three, no workout. And, no weighing in. I'm allowing myself a very brief break because I think my head needed it.

But now I'm starting to get anxious. Getting to the point where I'm itching to run again.

Crap. I was hoping the break would last a little longer.

Crack Would Be Cheaper!

We have a $28/week grape habit.

I'm buying them twice a week, $13 or $14 per trip. In pure volume, that's about two standard mixing bowls full at $3.99/lb.

I was kvetching about it tonight in the checkout and the cashier said, "They're just so good! I look at it this way. It's better than spending $14 on chocolate bars or potato chips."

She's got a point.

Not Sore ... and Other Surprising Observations of the Day After

Here's some of the things I saw, felt and wondered yesterday.

1. Waking up to thunder and lightening doesn't necessarily mean you should bag it and go home. I was ready to get in the car and head for home, but my smart husband convinced me to wait it out. Very glad he did.
2. I was right to pack everything I owned. I didn't know what I was going to need and I couldn't have predicted what I actually ended up in. I was one of a very few with long running tights (most opted for shorts or capri-length tights). I started with a tank and long-sleeve shirt, both fast-dry wicking fabric. I shed the long sleeve around mile two. 
3. Running shoes dry quickly. I plotched in a big puddle around mile three and was worried that one soggy shoe would produce friction and blisters. But, happily, I never had to give it a second thought. 
4. Wet, however, does equal chafing. My tank was a new one ... as in I'd only worn it once before. And I have a raw red patch on the inside of my left bicep as big as a dollar bill. And it burns like a mofo. 
5. I carried a mini hand sanitizer in my cleavage. Never trust that there will be some available in the Porta-Potties. (Sanitizer, not cleavage.)
6. 1100 people on a start line is a lot. I started in the middle of the pack and tried to "keep up" at first. I realized about a half mile in that I was running too fast and wouldn't be able to sustain that effort. So I backed down and tried not to get caught up in the waves of people that were passing me. I relied on the pacers (people who run the race at a specific pace and hold up a sign to tell you what it is ... so you can choose to follow them if you wish) to help me judge and in the end, I was just fine trusting them and my internal metronome. 
7. 1100 people is also too many to keep track of. So, for a while I'd spot someone I thought I was running fairly even with and try to maintain a distance behind them. And they'd switch up, pull off to stretch, stop for water, etc. ... and I'd never see them again. And with so many people, it was easy to just lose "brown shirt/flowered skirt" in a crowd. Which reminded me that I have to depend on myself and I left it at that.
8. It was GREAT to have people all along the route cheering and ringing cowbells. The family that had the funny old-fashioned bike/clown horn honking out of the porch window around mile 6 made me laugh out loud.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_gFmnj2xQQ
9. There were split clocks at miles 5 and 10. I didn't expect that, but it was really nice. 
10. I didn't hydrate enough. It was so cool and damp, that I wasn't really thirsty. I also didn't stick to my plan on the gummy supplements. I took two at mile 4 and then got a wave of stomach bleah, so I skipped my planned mile 8 serving. But by mile 12, I was tired. And after crossing the finish line, I got a little light-headed ... which has never happened to me before after a run. I slugged back two bottles of water and ate two cookies and felt better. 
11. LOVED the approximately 11-year-old boy between mile 12 and the finish line who had wheeled his basketball hoop to the curb. So glad he tossed me the ball and wish I had sunk the lay-up! (But I was moving too fast and was too far under the rim before I got my shot off.)
12. Also loved the lady with the yard full of signs around mile 10 ... one of them said, "For all the ladies that never thought they could run this far ... keep going!" Another had a skull and crossbones on it and simply said, "Don't die." That made me smile. 
13. I did plug my iPod in somewhere after mile 10 and kept it in until about mile 12. The songs I heard? Billy Squire/The Stroke. Followed immediately by James Brown/I Feel Good. Then two Black Crowes. And the last one I listened to was The Black Eyed Peas/Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night. After agreeing with that sentiment, I pulled the buds out of my ears because I wanted the full effect of the crowd for the final mile. 
14. I finished ahead of my expected time. Knowing I run an 11-minute mile when I'm on my treadmill, and knowing I have run 10-minute miles in shorter distances, I expected to finish between 2 hours 15 min and 2 hours 30 min. But I finished at 2 hours 8 minutes ... much to my surprise!
15. I did NOT finish strong. I was all in by the end. But contrary to what the photos look like, I did finish running. A slow run. But a run. 
16. I was 669th overall. Out of 1105. And 30th in my division (women 40-44), dead middle of 60 entrants. However, to make myself feel better, I dissected the numbers a little more. For all 44-year-old women (there were 12), I was 5th. I also finished directly ahead of women who were 27, 24, 24, 34, 26 and 20  years old, respectively. 
17. I did get a medal after all. It's kind of ugly. But it's hanging on my mirror ... for now.

The post-race celebration included chips, salsa and Dos Equis. Now it's time to quit eating like I'm training and get back to real life. 

And I'm sort of sad to see it go. 

Half. Check.

This girl ran a half marathon today.

Miss Daisy in FLIR video, 2009

She used to think she was weak. She didn't think she was capable of making her life better. But she got tired of feeling that way. Today, she's very proud. (And tired.)

Best of all, if she can do it, so can you.

Pre-Race Checklist

I don't know if anyone even cares, but in my effort to give you a guidebook to YOUR first half marathon, here's where I am this morning. 

• Suitcase packed last night. Two of everything: running tights, sleeveless shirts, short-sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts, socks (OK three of those), bondi bands, underwear and a random sports bra, just in case. Also tossed in a pair of gloves and windbreaker. 
• I did a little reading online about running in the rain. They suggested a garbage bag, baseball hat and and extra pair of running shoes. The garbage bag is to keep you dry as you wait for the start. The same is true for the shoes. If it's raining, I'll wear the old ones to the race and change into the dry, new ones just before we take off. The baseball hat is for during the race ... keeps the water out of your eyes. So hoping I don't need it.
• Food bag packed. For a simple overnight I have probably overdone it, but I don't know what to expect exactly, so I'm preparing for any scenario. I've included pretzels, shredded wheat, rice cakes, bagel thins, peanut butter, wasabi peas, carrots, grapes, magic beans/gummy supplements, water and Cherry Coke Zero. 
• I have also tossed in the point-and-shoot camera (because it's the one Jim can operate), phone and iPod. 
• Debating on taking my pillow. But probably won't. 
• Taking a backpack for Jim to tote with dry clothes and water ... and chocolate.
• This morning, I woke up close to race time to get in the groove. Then I leashed up my dog and the two of us went for a short 3 mile run at an easy pace to test out the temperature and clothes selection. I have never run with my dog before. But at 10 years old, and on arthritis medicine, I knew she couldn't go far and she'd keep me from running longer than I should. She petered out about 1.5 miles in and I learned that sleeveless and long tights will do the trick. 
• Breakfast heavy on carbs ... bagel and peanut butter and whole grain cereal. 
• I'm also hydrating a little extra today, as I've been trying to all week long. 
• My only other concern, and it's gross, so don't read if you don't want to, is pooping before the race. So everything I do from here until tomorrow morning, will be done with that in mind. I REALLY don't want to use a port-a-potty at the staging area if I can help it and I also don't want to have to pull over to take care of this on the course. If that goes well tomorrow morning, I'm in good shape. 

I'll talk to you from the other side. Have a great day! 

Go Get 'Em, Ms. Organizer

A friend is running her second half marathon tomorrow in Kenosha. Looks like she's going to get sunshine. And, her medal will double as a beer bottle opener.

There are no participant medals in my race. And it's going to rain.

Does this surprise anyone?

It's the LIttle Things

Wore my favorite new shoes to work today. They're these awesome espadrille deals. Turquoise, with a hot pink cabbage rose pattern and big "bow ties" next to the peep toe.

They remind me of Lucille Ball wearing a head scarf, if that draws a picture for you.

And, today, they gave me the beginnings of a blister.

A freaking blister.

As if running in the rain on Sunday wasn't going to provide enough hazard potential for my feet?

I'm not going down for a blister.

Post Race Plans Include ...

1. Shower
2. Beer
3. McDonald's on the car ride home
4. Mani-Pedi the following day
5. Bday lunch, again the following day, with my sister that includes adult beverages AND dessert
6. Lots of walking workouts until I feel like running again
7. A more dedicated effort to lose these last few pounds for good
8. Consultative appointment with someone who can tell me what it will take to get the weird skin off my now 1-year-steady slimmer body

I've earned all of it. What's the point of the effort if there's no reward?

Gauntlet

The president of my company (for lack of a better term) is a marathon runner. As in RUNNER. In other words, he's not Kenyan fast, but he's close. 

He's not someone that just runs to finish, in other words. He competes.

We have been chatting on and off about my upcoming race. He's full of great information and even better encouragement. 

"So, do you do the run-walk? Have you heard of Jeff Galloway?" he asks.

"Yeah, I know what it is. I don't do it, but I have read about it. My plan is to run this whole half," I reply. 

"I have done marathons that way with a friend who is slower than I am," he continues. "It's hard to walk in the beginning of the race when everyone is running past you. But in the end, you really finish in the same amount of time that you would at a steady-pace run. What's your longest distance so far?" 

"Only 12.65," I respond.

"You could do 26 at a walk-run right now, I bet," he says. 

Oh crap ...