Proud

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop. ~ Mother Theresa.


Back in early September we moved into a new neighborhood. It was very close to our old hood so the transition wasn't too bad for the kids, but it still was "new" and different, and we weren't sure how we'd fit in. And then I decided to post on Facebook about my interest in collecting for Operation Christmas Child, and was so touched by the generosity of my friends, along with people I was just beginning to know in our new neighborhood. All of us coming together to carry on Jack Donaldson's love of Operation Christmas Child. I am so proud to count these people as my friends.


Today the boys and I dropped 23 boxes off at an area church serving as a collection point. The staff working to pack all the donated boxes into larger boxes for shipping were so touched by the delivery, and asked where the boxes came from and if I had ever donated before. I stared at them, not sure what (or how much) to say. I told them I had never heard of Operation Christmas Child until this September.


I also told them the donations came from friends, neighbors, and strangers, all wanting to help the memory of a dear young boy live on through his favorite charity. I told them his name was Jack Donaldson, and as soon as I said his name out loud I started crying. These strangers all hugged me. They all knew who Jack was from the news about the accident. They couldn't have been nicer. They fed the boys brownies. They were so grateful for the donation.


23 boxes. 
23 drops in the ocean. 
23 children who will smile at Christmas. 
I know Jack is proud.



Miles run since last post: 11
Total miles run so far this year: 133
Miles left to go: 232
(as of 11/19/11)

I Have a Dream...

So Alex comes home not too long ago, very excited to tell me about a new project in his class called "Heroes of History." Each student in the 3rd grade has been assigned a famous historical figure to represent in a wax museum of sorts, where they will "dress like the hero in clothing resembling the time period" and recite a speech about their hero and their contribution to history. This all sounds awesome, super educational, and fun.

However, I must admit, that all I can think of when Alex comes home *absolutely beaming* to tell me he has been assigned none other than Martin Luther King, Jr., is "what on earth am I going to do for a costume?" I am so happy that he is excited, but seriously? My blonde haired, green eyed boy acting as a wax figure of Martin Luther King, Jr.? Honestly, my first reaction is that this just seems wrong and disrespectful somehow - and almost out of a script from Modern Family. How do I make Alex appear like Martin Luther King, Jr. without crossing some line, offending someone, or becoming a story on the nightly news?

Time to brainstorm. Okay, when I think of Martin Luther King, Jr. I think classy, dark 60's style suit.  Problem is, my son is 8 and there isn't anything remotely close to a suit in his closet (please don't judge). And to be honest, this option sorta irritated me, because it meant we'd have to either borrow or buy one and I am frankly too lazy and cheap.

And then it hits me. A t-shirt. All it should say is: "I HAVE A DREAM." One quick Google search later and I am in business:

I am excited, Alex is excited, his teacher loves the idea, and best of all we won't end up on the news. Okay, costume problem solved.

Now on to the project itself - researching and writing a speech about your hero. Alex is home sick this week and we decide to take advantage of the quiet time at home to get started. I am nervous about how to explain what Martin Luther King, Jr. went through, what he fought for, and what ultimately happened to him. I know it will make Alex very sad, so we start at the beginning and talk about how brave he was. I am re-learning history myself, and I am amazed at what I either didn't know, or had forgotten, including the fact that Martin Luther King Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize at the age of 35. The youngest recipient ever.

We talk about the Civil Rights Movement and I gently explain how it wasn't too long ago that black children were not allowed to go to the same schools as white children, that they had to sit in different parts of restaurants, use different water fountains, and couldn't even sit together on a bus. Alex's mouth literally drops open in disbelief at these statements before he pretty much sums it up: "Are you kidding me? Who's crazy idea was that?"

Exactly, Alex. Exactly. "I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." The fact that an 8 year old white child is representing him at an event like this is JUST the kind of dream Dr. King was talking about. And I know Alex, my son of real character, will make him proud.

T-shirt and all.


Miles run since last post: 16
Total miles run so far this year: 122
Miles left to go: 243
(as of 11/2/11)

Multitasking

A key survival skill of adulthood - and especially motherhood - is mastering the art of multitasking. At work, when I am not wearing my "mom hat," I've somehow got this one pretty much figured out. But sadly, on the homefront, not so much. It is not for lack of trying, I just find it really hard to juggle more than one thing at a time.

Perhaps it is the mental exhaustion at the end of a long work day. Perhaps it is three males all talking to me at once - and for the most part all asking me for something. But in a nutshell, there just are days when I know my fuse is simply too short. I am too tired. And I get frazzled if you look at me the wrong way.

So I need to accept that I will never be *that* woman who can gracefully cook an elaborate family meal and have it ready every night at 6:00 p.m. sharp, while simultaneously helping the kids with homework and overseeing piles of laundry. The more likely scenario in my house: dinner never makes it to the table and we end up eating cereal, I lose my patience five minutes into the "practice spelling test," (convinced my son will never know how to spell the word "diary" depsite the fact that all he reads is "Diary of a Wimpy Kid"), and the clothes stay in the dryer too long and end up hopelessly wrinkled and unfortunately a little bit smaller.

So imagine my delight when it occured to me that I could effectively multitask during Alex's recent soccer practice. I was almost giddy that I had the brain cells left in my head at the end of the day to figure out that while he practiced nearby I could either a) sit in my soccer mom chair staring at my Blackberry, or b) get off my duff and run around the school track. I am so glad I thought of this a full 2 minutes before soccer practice started so I could quickly change into my running clothes - and then proceed to play it off like it was my plan all along.

Of course we were painfully late for practice, but I still managed to run around the track at his school (and by "run" I mean jogged a little, walked a little) for just about 2 miles. I can't tell you how great it felt to get these two things done at the same time. Could there be hope for me yet?

Miles run since last update: 33
Miles run total this year: 106
Miles to go: 259

Jack

It has been a long time since I have blogged about my adventures in running this year. Between the summer heat, moving out of one house and into another, I literally feel like the summer passed me by. Okay, let's just face it. I also got incredibly lazy. There it is. But we are finally settling into our new home, and with cooler weather upon us I am running out of excuses. So it is time to begin again anew. No more putting it off for another day. For we are not promised another day, as I have been so achingly reminded of this past week.

As most of you know from my recent Facebook posts, Anna, a friend since high school youth group days - and one of my sister's closest friends - tragically lost her beloved son Jack last Thursday in the catastrophic flooding we had here in Virginia. Since that time, I have felt like I was living in a suspended state of reality, one minute crying uncontrollably for the loss Anna is experiencing, another minute cursing - yes, I am sorry to say cursing - God for taking Jack away from his family, and then another minute in total denial that it even happened. And if this is what I am going through, imagine what Anna and those closest to her family are experiencing.

I have heard from many friends who didn't even know Anna that they have been brought to their knees by what has happened to her family. And I have to believe that this outpouring of support from family, friends, and strangers has to be buoying all of them. So thank you. And please keep Anna, Tim, and their lovely daughter Margaret in your ongoing prayers.

Far more eloquent posts have been published about the miracle we all witnessed when Anna stood before more than 1,000 people and flawlessly paid tribute to Jack at his memorial service. Somehow, inexplicably, she managed to make us laugh, cry, and reflect upon her son's amazing 12 years. His strong, unflinching faith, his sincerity and kindness, his love for his family, his ability to be truly and purely joyful, his uniqueness. We all came to know better this precious boy who loved God and legos. And as I write this, I am looking at the cross made of legos that many of us wore at Jack's memorial service. As my sister said, "Jack would have loved this."

If I learned anything from the living nightmare of this past week, anything at all, it would be to take not one second for granted. I am holding my boys tighter, snuggling longer, and kissing them even more (much to their embarrassment). I am telling people that I love them. A lot. I am going to keep doing this, too. So, get used to it. And I am going to start running again. Because I can. Because I have been blessed with another day on this Earth.

Play with legos. Love your family. Be joyful. Run. For Jack.

Look! Mommy's Jumping Over Fire!

Perhaps the greatest thing to ever happen to a 5k is the Warrior Dash. For someone like me, who loathes the monotony of running, it is incredible. Yesterday was my second Warrior Dash, which combines a 5k distance with 12 obstacles and is billed as the "craziest frickin' day of your life." On Sunday, this was pretty accurate.

Peace. Love. MUD!

I designed my own shirt for the race that read, "Peace. Love. MUD!" But I had no idea how prolific these words would be as the race unfolded. My work friends Jenn, Kirsten and I started the race when the fire guns blasted into the sky at 12:00 p.m. Another friend from work, Lori, is somewhere ahead of us in the pack of 550 people in this wave of the race. Because there are so many people, and the 3 of us are positioned near the back, there is an immediate bottleneck. The trail is narrow, so we don't run for several minutes, but we finally get to our first obstacle which is a series of bungee cords you have to make your way through. Not difficult, but it slowed everyone down again. After that, it finally breaks up enough for us to run, and when we start splashing through a creek I finally thought, "Now this is more like it!"  And then came the mud....

For about a mile, we sloshed our way though mud that was at least ankle - and sometimes up to knee - deep. It was like quicksand; it sucked the shoes right off your feet and was so slippery you literally couldn't run. All energy and focus is spent trying to stay upright, which is nearly impossible. I keep thinking to myself, "this can't go on too much longer." Well, it does. And to make matters worst, in the midst of all of this muddy chaos I become separated from Jenn and Kirsten. All the people, all the mud, oh the humanity.

It seems like we have been going through mud forever and then we come to the walls. Up and over a bunch of wooden walls - how hard can this be? Well, when they are close to chest high and you are up to your ankles in mud, it literally takes everything we have to hoist ourselves up and over these barriers. I jump down from one wall and end up in mud up to my thighs. It is insane. And I am 5' 8", so I really don't know how people shorter than myself manage to get over these things. This was not a difficult obstacle during my last Warrior Dash (the walls were much shorter), and I had assured my friends that the walls would be no big deal. I could only imagine they were all cursing me right about now.

Yes, I paid good money to do this to myself...

Emerging from the walls we of course are greeted by yet more mud. I have managed to keep my hands somewhat clean up until this point, but now it's time to crawl on our hands and knees through a mud tunnel. Finally we come out from the forest and emerge back near the starting area. Completely spent, I see a giant cargo net looming ahead of me. Then I spot Chris and the kids waving to me from an observation area. Time to put on my happy face and look like I am having fun!

I have no trouble getting up to the top of the cargo net, but once I swing my leg over the other side I can't find my footing. It doesn't help that I am at the very edge of the net, with a 12 foot drop straight to the ground right next to me. For the first time I am genuinely scared. How in the hell am I going to get down? I swing my other leg over, hold on tight, and am able to find a rung to put my foot in. Phew. I breath a huge sigh of relief as I make it down the other side. The next obstacle is climbing over a big haystack while going uphill. Now my mud covered legs are coated with hay. It's really quite the fashion statement.

Finally, the half-way water stop. I use a few cups of water just to try and wash all the mud off my hands, but it is pointless. Looming before us in the blazing sun is the rest of the very hilly course. As my friend Lori said after the race, it is kind of a blur at this point. But I remember stepping through tires on the ground, and then going through a bunch of tires that are hanging above us. Nothing too difficult.

Time to have some fun!

More dusty hills and then the most incredible obstacle EVER. And it couldn't have come at a better time since by this point the heat has really taken its toll. I can only describe it as an adult-sized slip-n-slide! We slid down a huge hill that was covered in a tarp and hosed down by a sprinkler. I could not believe how fast we went flying down that hill. So much fun. The exhilaration definitely pumps me up and I know we have to be getting close to the finish. A nice woman encourages a bunch of us by cheering "let's go, let's go!" as we all run up a very steep hill. When we get to the top I figured that was it, but there is yet another big hill to go. It is even too much for our cheerleader to bear. All she can say is, "Oh crap." But we finally make it to the top and I can hear the crowd in the distance as we approach the finish.

Coming down the last hill, there are the two fire jumps - which for some reason are my favorite obstacle of the course. And this is legit fire. Duraflame logs, hot coals, the works. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it is just very empowering to conquer something that would usually terrify me.

The flames are quite a "motivator" to jump nice and high!

Rounding the last bend, it is on to the very last obstacle - the obligatory mud pit. As I crawl through, I look to my left and there is Alex cheering me on through the whole thing. It is great to have him with me at the end of the race. Crossing the finish line felt amazing.


I did it! :)

Jenn, Kirsten, and Lori all had a great race too. We were all exhausted, but happy - and we'll forever be able to share with each other our experiences of the race.  All four of us are moms - strong moms at that - and I am proud to know these great women and count them as my friends.


Kirsten, Jenn and I after the race.

I am sure my boys (and my dear husband!) think I am somewhat crazy for doing a race like this. But I really hope to teach my sons is that life is what you make of it. Of course I don't want them to be reckless. And I consider myself to be a very cautious person. But it is so easy to go through the motions of the day-to-day and next thing you know life is passing you by. I hope to instill in them both a sense of fun and adventure and a desire to be the best they can be at whatever they chose to do. And I also hope that by seeing their mom finish a race like this they will realize that they can do anything they set their minds to. And once they've accomplished a goal they have for themselves, no one can ever take that away from them.

The boys greeting me at the finish line. Who can ask for more?

Miles run since last post: 5
Miles run total to date: 73
Miles to go: 292

Two Girls on the Run

Today was a great day for two reasons. First, and most importantly, I ran 3 of my most memorable miles of the year. I had the honor of participating in my second Girls on the Run 5k race as a "buddy runner" to an amazing young woman, Julie Foster. This was our second race, our first being last December on an incredibly cold day. The excitement of Julie's first race, combined with the freezing temperatures, made for an exhilarating race.

Today's race was muggy and the course was very hilly. Most of the race took us around Patriot's Circle at my alma mater of George Mason University. For the life of me I don't recall that circle being so hilly, but then again I was literally half my age when I last ran that circle. Wow, that's a brutal reality check...

Anyway, Julie told me early in the race that she really, really wanted to beat our previous race time from December, which was a little over 41 minutes (quite impressive, in my opinion, for an 8 year old and a slow poke 40 year old). I was so impressed that a 3rd grader had set a goal for herself like this and I was going to do everything I could to help her achieve it.

Despite the temperature and elevation challenges, we gave it everything we had. The race itself is absolutely packed with people as each girl must have a buddy runner and schools from throughout Northern VA participate. Julie and I were in the last pack of runners to start and we spent a good bit of our time and energy just weaving in and out around slower runners and the throngs of people walking (I so wish the course marshals had been calling out for walkers to stay to the right...).

At about mile 2 we came to a point in the course where we had to turn back around and I was amazed to see how many people were behind us. Despite the fact that we were one of the last people to start the race, we had somehow managed to pass hundreds and hundreds of people. Julie and I high-fived each other with excitement. This accomplishment alone really gave us the push we needed.

We power walked a few times for only very brief periods, but I could tell from my watch that we were ahead of our pace from our last race. As we began to round the bend for the finish I knew she would blow her time out of the water. With about 50 yards left, Julie turned on the jets and we blasted across the finish line with an impressive time of 36:45. For her little legs to take her that far and that fast is amazing to me. With her mom (and my dear friend) Kathy, her dad and brother proudly watching on, Julie achieved her goal - and then some. I was so privileged to be a part of it.

Today was also great because this race finally took me to under 300 miles - a big milestone for me! Yes, it is one I should have reached quite a while ago, but I am counting my blessings that it is finally here. I can't think of a better day to break 300 miles - and I will always remember where I was when it happened.

Miles run since last post: 15
Miles run total to date: 68
Miles to go: 297

Race for Hope

This morning was the Race for Hope - the race that started this whole crazy running thing. As you know, this race for me is about honoring my father's memory and raising money to help find a cure for brain tumors. A cure simply cannot come fast enough. I have watched this race grow exponentially over the years. It is bittersweet to see so many people - thousands and thousands of people - each with their own story about this horrible disease.

It is uplifting to see the survivors in their bright yellow shirts, ranging from toddlers in the midst of their fight to others who have been to hell and were lucky enough to come out on the other side. What I wouldn't give to see my dad walking during the survivors tribute... In my dream, he's wearing his fishing hat and gives me a thumbs up from the starting line. It devastates me that my dad was not one of the lucky ones. But this is why I race.

Today the weather gods smiled on us - after last year's unbearable heat and humidity, it was a cloudy, comfortable morning in the 50's. I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to run the race today. I was just so happy that my foot healed enough that I was able to cross the starting line. I knew I would have to take it slow and steady to be able to run for any length of time, and when the start came, I think because my expectations were so low and I had put zero pressure on myself, I wasn't the least bit nervous and just wanted to enjoy myself and the experience. And I was so touched by the amazing donations and words of support I received from family and friends. I didn't want to let them down by not doing my best.

I started at the back of the runners pack and settled into a comfortable pace with the slow pokes right away. The first mile, as always, seemed to take forever. It did help to have the wonderful downtown DC scenery to take in, though. By the time I got to the water stop half way through, I finally felt warmed up. Mile 2 was there not long after, and was my goal distance to run. I figured I would start walking at this point and then do a run/walk for the rest of the race since I hadn't run a continuous 3 miles in over 2 months. But I felt good and I threw up a prayer to my dad, asking his help to keep me going. That was the moment I decided that I would not stop. Don't get me wrong, this was no Chariots of Fire. I was barely at a 12:00/mile. But I was running.

Making the turn down Pennsylvania Avenue I could see the balloon arch at the finish line and I was overwhelmed with relief when I realized I was going to finish the race actually running. The survivors cheered us all at the finish line. I ran alone, with no one to share this amazing feeling with, but I know my dad was with me. It wasn't my best race time, but for so many reasons that are more important, it was by far my best race.

Miles run since last post: 6

Miles run total to date: 53
Miles to go: 312

On the Road Again

So, I'm just about one month into recovery from my minor foot surgery. I'm feeling better each day, and I desperately need to get back out there. What a difference in my energy and my mood these past 8 weeks while I haven't been running. I have been so tired, and frankly a little bit depressed, by the fact that I haven't been able to keep up with my goal. 

Going into my first run in 2 months this morning, I almost felt as though I would be starting from scratch, building up my cardio, lung capacity, and endurance all over again. Turns out I was right. My first run out was pah-thetic, to say the least. In fact, it wasn't much of a run at all - more of a run-a-little, walk-a-little-so-I-don't-die routine. The saddest part of all: I had been doing my run/walk thing for what seemed like forever and when I looked at my watch I had only gone 1.5 miles. Unreal. Humbling. But 1.5 more miles than I have run in 2 months. :)


The Race for Hope is this Sunday, and I'm nervous. I'm nervous because I am not in the shape I wanted to be for this race. It will be the most meaningful and emotional 3 miles I will run all year (okay, probably miles 363-365 will be right up there too), and I hope I can rise to the occasion. Please send the good vibes my way on Sunday! Thanks everyone! 


Miles run since last post: 5

Miles run total to date: 47
Miles to go: 318

The Longest Mile

There is no mile that feels longer, or is more painful for me, then mile 1. Why is that? I should be full of energy, right? But my brain is saying, "Are you kidding me?" The other part is my body, screaming "Seriously?!?" That's not to say miles 2 and 3 are by any means easy, but they go so much faster then that first mile.... The funny thing is, when I look at my stats, my first mile is almost always my fastest (note: "fastest" should not be confused with the word "fast").  But it really does take me about a mile to warm up, and for those initial aches that I sometimes feel when I start to run, to melt away. Mile 1 is also when the doubt comes creeping in. "What am I doing? 365 miles? Am I INSANE?!?" But if I can just get through Mile 1, I usually shake these thoughts and can turn them on their head: "365 miles? Damn straight!"

With that in mind, it's been a while since my last post. How am I doing with this "challenge" I came up with for myself?  The stats so far aren't great, I know. I really thought I'd have at least 60 miles under my belt at this point, but I am finding myself falling further and further behind. I have had a few random injuries here and there that are slowing me down, but what I really need to work on is just improving my consistency.

This past month has been tough. It's still too dark to run by myself before work. Then I go to work and sit at my desk in front of my computer for hours on end. Then job #2 (the one I love more than anything) kicks into high gear the minute I leave work, race home to get the kids, and begin the evening craziness of dinner, homework, baths, and bedtime. I wouldn't trade my life for anything, but I would be lying if I didn't confess that I am just exhausted. All. The. Time.

So, I plug away and hope that I can gain more ground in the weeks and months ahead. This goal still feels so far out of reach, but I just need to keep telling myself that with each "first" mile under my belt, I am one mile closer.

Miles run since last post: 19
Miles run total to date: 42
Miles to go: 323

A Girl Who Runs Like a Deer

So, you might be wondering how this all started. What got me to lace up my shoes in the first place? It started a few years ago, when I was walking in the Race for Hope, an annual charity run/walk 5k to raise money and awareness for brain cancer research. It is an event I have participated in for at least 10 years and allows me to pay tribute to my dad, who succumbed to this horrible disease at the impossibly young age of 47, leaving my mom a widow at age 40 and my sister and I without a father at the age of 16. It really is like another lifetime ago, but at the same time still feels like yesterday.

I would walk the Race for Hope each year with dear friends who sadly lost their close friend to brain cancer as well. Each year we would marvel at the runners - we'd sometime even try to run for a few minutes ourselves, before returning to our leisurely walking pace and comfortable chit chat. Then two years ago, I made a mental note and decided that I would run the race the following year. I kept this promise to myself for awhile, not wanting to utter the commitment out loud, but as last year's race began approaching I knew I had to start preparing. I began the Couch 2 5K program, which was perfect for me and eased me into running so I wouldn't get injured. I also started going to boot camp to get stronger and build endurance, and come race day last May, I was ready.

I was incredibly nervous the day of the race, but was delighted to see the masses of people, which I knew would allow me to get lost in the crowd and run my own race. It was unusually hot and humid that day, and just a mile in I knew I was going to be in trouble if I didn't really pace myself. I was incredibly slow, but I ran the race for the first time, and the accomplishment felt great.

I wore a shirt at the race that said "Missing My Dad Today."  I could probably wear that shirt every day, as all these years later it is still a true sentiment. Because honoring him was my motivation to begin running again, I often think about him when I run, and I often wonder if he knows about his 4 amazing grandsons, selfishly wishing for a sign from above. I also think about a note that he wrote me not long before he died, one that I would find after track practice one day: "To Sheri - a girl who runs like a deer, and a dear who likes to run."

So tonight, with the sun setting on my run, I couldn't help but gasp when I felt someone looking at me, and when I turned there was nothing but a lone deer no more than 2 feet away from me. Maybe not a sign, but certainly a push to keep me going. Thanks Dad...

Miles remaining at last post: 349
Miles run since last post: 7
Miles run total to date: 23
Miles to go: 342

The Only Thing Worse than Running on a Treadmill....

... is running HILLS on a treadmill.  Recognizing how loathsome the treadmill is for me, my wonderful friend Lori gave me copies of treadmill workouts to help "mix it up," so to speak. This really did sound like a great idea at the time. Instead of the minutes slowly creeping by, I could change up my speed every few minutes and get some hill action in at the same time! Let's hit the treadmill!

So... let's just say that the workout was "overly ambitious," to put it kindly. The low point was almost falling backwards off the treadmill due to my complete inability to keep up with the pace. It was the kind of torture I don't even think Dick Cheney would approve of. In a vain attempt to salvage the workout I actually tried to decrease the incline of the treadmill to lower than 0% at one point (note to self - in my free time, must invent treadmill that allows you to run downhill). Ten minutes in, I sadly had to pitch the workout so I could at least get in my mileage for the day.

But despite this hate/hate relationship, I did manage to rack up some mileage on the treadmill this week: 9 miles total. The beast that is the treadmill "hill" workout will be something I definitely revisit, though, and will be a good benchmark to see how much stronger I am becoming over the year.  So, I'm still off pace, but here's where I am:

Miles remaining at last post: 358
Miles run since last post: 9
Miles run total to date: 16
Miles to go: 349

Can't wait to run outside this weekend!

This Weather is SnOw Not Helping...

Okay, I am only a few weeks into this "undertaking" and I am already stressing about my mileage. The cold weather, thundersnow craziness, icy sidewalks, a sore leg, unexpected (and painful) dental procedures, crazy work deadlines -- have brought me humbly to my knees these past few weeks. But you know what, there will always be something trying to get in the way. It's called life.

So, I need to "cowgirl-up" as my dear boot camp coach Laurie would say, pray for rapid melting of the sidewalks, stop making excuses, and get back out there. And while I did not want to count treadmill mileage toward my goal, I might need to start doing so if for nothing else my own mental health, as I am falling further and further behind in the miles department. I am so disappointed to say that I am only 5 miles closer toward my goal since my last mileage post - meaning I still have 353 miles to go. Even Alex, who just learned subtraction with regrouping, can do the math here - and it is not good....

While I despise treadmills more than any other piece of exercise equipment ever invented (I'm a person, not a hamster on a wheel), I will be adding in some treadmill work this week to keep my momentum going in hopes of having better numbers for my next post. And while my January goal of being 30 miles down by the end of the month is as unrealistic as me getting pay raise in the next 2 years, I am looking optimistically ahead to spring and more pleasant running days ahead!

It's the Little Victories

Everyone says that running is mostly mental. I certainly agree with that statement, remembering like it was yesterday how freeing it was to have run my first 3 miles continuously -- knowing, no matter what, that having done it once before, I could do it again. That feeling - of confidence, strength, and accomplishment - is so empowering. It's a feeling that we don't get to experience very often, especially as adults.

So I will tell myself, "Remember this feeling." The feeling I have just after a run where I accomplished more than I set out to do. And I'm not talking about running a marathon here. Just small, personal goals. Maybe I ran a half mile further than I was planning. Or maybe I ran all the way up that really big hill for the first time. You know the one. The one that never seemed nearly as steep when you drove up it in your car, but that now looms before you. Running all the way up that hill. Without walking. These are the little victories - not just in running, but in life. And we all deserve to have that feeling. Don't forget to savor your next victory, whatever it may be.

Don't Spit Into the Wind

Dressed as though I was planning to rob a bank, I set out for two short runs this weekend.  I actually LOVE running in colder temperatures. Being out there when it is below freezing makes me feel like a total bada$$.  But the wind, oh the wind. Truly brutal. Thank goodness for my neck gator. It was the one garment I was wearing that made a huge difference, especially today, and my lungs really appreciated not taking in all that cold air.

Now if I could only figure out what I did to my leg... I have a really sharp pain shooting down the front of my left thigh.  I did my best to warm up before today's run, but I must have tweaked something.  Hopefully a day or two of rest and motrin will take care of that and I won't loose momentum. My goal is to log at least 7 miles each week, running every other day and trying to cross train on off-days so I can get stronger and faster. So far I am on schedule and with this weekend's runs complete I now have only 358 miles to go!

Meet my new boyfriend, Garmin

I recently purchased my first sports watch, the Garmin 405cx.  I love, love, love this watch.  It takes all the guesswork out of how long I've run, distance, pace, etc. A standard stop watch was working okay for me too, but then I had to figure out my route and how far I had run (and mapmyrun.com is great for that).  But frankly, I am way too lazy to record all of that information myself after I've exercised. What's great is all the data automatically downloads straight from the watch to the computer after each use. It was a splurge, but I honestly can't remember the last time I bought something for myself - let alone something that wasn't in the boys section at Target or Old Navy... Seriously - can't all relationships be this easy? I love you Garmin! xoxo.

Here We Go!

So, I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now.  Simply as a creative outlet, to counter my very, very wonderful, but rather uncreative day job.  Another outlet for me is running.  It is the only time in my day when I am doing something completely for myself - and while I am not a fast distance runner by any stretch, I do enjoy it.  If for nothing else the sense of accomplishment I feel afterwards. 

As much as I enjoy it, I need to be goal oriented with everything I do, including running, or it will be too easy to make excuses to myself to not hit the pavement.  So, with the dawning of a new year I decided to try and step it up a notch and run 365 miles in 2011.  For me, this is alot of mileage. 

And then while running today it actually hit me (another thing I love about running - it clears my mind):  Why not start a blog to hold myself accountable for my running?  I am not expecting anyone else to read this but me - and maybe my family but only because they love me - but I really think tracking my goal in black and white for all to (possibly) see will help keep me honest.

Today I ran 3.1 miles, in 40 minutes.  Yes, that is painfully slow... but my goal today was to run this distance continuously, so I ran very slowly.  And you know what?  I felt great afterwards.  Now that I know I can run for 40 minutes continuously, I can work on speed, and hopefully take about 5 minutes off of that time this year as well.

So here it goes - one mom, one year and 365 miles!  3 miles down, 362 to go!