"How do you do this?"

I put a countdown on my board for my kids this week.

13 CLASS WEEKS UNTIL THE AP TEST AND 6 UNITS TO GO

(On a side note, I also taught about Roosevelt's "Big Stick" diplomacy to 3 classes of 16 year olds. Thank you for your pity. I can still hear the Beavis and Butthead-style chuckles....huh huh....she said carry a big stick...huh huh)

Underneath that, I wrote, 14 WEEKS UNTIL MRS. Z'S TEST. I figured they'd might as well know that I also have something big and intimidating looming in the distance. Something that right about now makes me go, "WHY did I do this to myself?" Kinda like what they are all starting to think, too.

I get asked "why" I do this stuff a lot. To me, it's like asking why I blink my eyeballs every few seconds. It's not a question of why I'm a teacher. A mother. A triathlete. It's just part of me. I wouldn't be me without these things.

But you know what? Sometimes it's not easy.

Actually, lots of times.

Okay. The truth. Pretty much all the time.

I find myself often saying, "How do I do this?"

How will I do this?

How am I going to keep this up until May? And remain sane?

Is it really possible to be a mother, wife, friend, teacher, AND athlete--all at the same time?

Sometimes other people ask me how I do all these things. And the short answer is, I don't really know. Day by day, I guess you could say. There is no secret. There is no recipe. You make it work the best you can. Sometimes, I cry. And sometimes, I cheat like crazy. By cheat, I mean I use meal-assembly places for dinner even though I love to cook and am damn good at it, if I do say so myself. It buys me a few extra minutes to play Buzz Lightyear with Bug. I have a lot of help from my family--I'm lucky to have pretty much one of the most generous and helpful husbands in the universe. He'll "sense" laundry and do it. He'll see that I really need to get a long run in and take control of the fort so I can skip out for a bit. You either make peace with the fact that housework will not get done, or you get some help. I realized that workouts will be less about socializing and more about getting to know myself. And I further appreciate how wonderful it is to have good friends to swimbikerun with--when I had all the time in the world I don't think I realized just how important that is. Now I make an effort to do one "social workout" a week, even though it's pretty hard to schedule. Lately it's been one every-other week and might have to go longer as work is going to pick up. But I know they are out there, and they'll be there, ready to ride and run with me when I can.

This has been a true exercise in letting the small stuff go. That's never been easy for me. I'm getting there, but it's definitely a work in progress.

Bottom line: this is very difficult and often overwhelming. But I love it. I love every second of every part of it, as much as it frustrates me from time to time and as much as I often question whether or not I'm good enough at any of it.

I love watching my students right about this time of the year, when they realize that there's no turning back--it's time to put the proverbial mental miles in, or pay the consequences. And most of them choose to put the miles in. It means extra hours for me after school, but I honestly don't mind. Watching them do what they need to do over the next three months is why I got into this line of work, anyway.

I love watching Bean taking her first steps. When we get home from work, I change as quickly as I can into my PJ pants and we all head downstairs. Bug makes me "dinner" with his kitchen and all the "food" we got him for Christmas, and Bean and I practice walking. Sometimes her little feet go too fast for her body and she spins out of control and starts to fall, face first. But I'm there to catch her. And she always giggles when she falls forward. She can't wait to get back up.

(I know that feeling all too well. Sometimes my feet just can't keep up with everywhere I want to go, either.)

Watching her giggle when she falls reminds me that falling means you are making progress.

Falling means you're going somewhere.

This is one crazy, simply amazing, simply exhausting journey I'm on. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right. I don't know if any of us really ever do.

All I can do is hold on, hope my feet catch up to the rest of me, and keep going.

I realize this goes against the entire concept of a blog...

...but this is actually pretty funny.

It is funny, because we all probably know "that guy" (or girl to be fair) that totally does it. And I think to a certain degree we all do this on our blogs, right? But if we all ONLY talked about it all day long forever and ever and ever...man, we'd be boring peeps, yo.

It kinda made me think how my blog, although I try to keep as honest and real as possible, is really only a small chunk of me. Perhaps it's this whole yin-yang of an introvert/extrovert thing I've got going on. Most people think I am quite extroverted upon meeting me, but only a choice few know me very well. I do admire those who can truly blog about EVERYTHING. Cuz that is so not me.

Anyway, thought it would be good for a chuckle, no? Now get out there and RUN. But for cryin' out loud, please talk about other things too, K?

:)

Here's a topic I love: ENCHILADAS. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMENCHILADAS. Got to share it with the family on Sunday, and this included Bug's First Sombrero Experience.
Time to go (attempt) to burn off those calories...!

July 5, 1984

What the Red Ryder BB Gun was to Ralphie, so was the Thriller Tape to 7 year old me.

It remains one of my most memorable and favorite birthday gifts ever.

Kickin' it old school and toothless,

TST

Somewhere, a cracked out mouse is RUNNING

So I just went downstairs to get my stuff ready for tomorrow's brick, and lo and behold.....

A FREAKING MOUSE GOT INTO MY BENTO BOX.

And apparently has a thing for Chocolate Gu. Not so much the Apple Cinnamon Hammer Gel, which is rather surprising.

LITTLE REMNANTS OF CHOCOLATE GU PACK EVERYWHERE.

Arg!

Somewhere, there is a mouse running a marathon now and setting a PR...

Pencils Down

My life is measured in school years. And another one has just closed.

There's a certain familiarity to it; predictability and routine, but also never the same day twice. Never the same student twice. This, I think, is part of the reason I love what I do. Every year, I walk out of a clean classroom--all the posters taken down, the secret initials written in chalk on my board by kids who think I'll never find 'em, the scantrons in the recycle bin, and the students gone. Just me, and 31 empty desks.

Pencils down.

I always get a teensy bit sad--actually, I don't think sad's the way to describe it...wistful, maybe?--when I walk out of that room the last time every June-whateverth, because I know I'm another year older. Another year has gone by, and I'm that much different than I was when I walked in there.

But there's something magical about an empty classroom. It just begs to be filled. And I know when I lock the door for the last time that I'll unlock it and enter in August even more older, and hopefully wiser. Under different circumstances. Still teaching about the Enlightenment and the Gilded Age and the Cold War, but hopefully not the same lessons. And definitely not to the same audience.

I've now been teaching almost one third of my entire life, which is hard to believe. Next weekend I'm heading down to Miami for my ten-year reunion. Where my school year ended, and I packed everything up, and I said goodbye to my good friends that last day after the caps and gowns were put away and the cheap beer had been tapped out, and drove away. And then--only then--I cried. I knew it was the end of something, and I just didn't know what was next. I was afraid that the quote "best four years of your life" end quote were over. What could be better than that?

The good news is what was next has been even more amazing than my four years there. I didn't know it then, but I can appreciate that now, as I'm knocking on the door to 32 years old and walking out of my tenth school year as a teacher.

Yesterday I ran a new loop, which is different for me. As stated before, I enjoy routine. I like the same patterns. I like to know where I am, at what time, and how that compares to last run. So for me to branch out and try a new loop was definitely different. And, here's the kicker--I didn't even take the Garmin. Type-A TST put it away and just ran for fun. Such will be my runs for a while here, as I am in definite need of a break. I have some pretty lofty goals in mind, but I need a bit of time here to recharge the batteries.

I'm reading Dara Torres' biography right now, which seriously is making me want to swim every. single. second. I can, because it reminds me of when I used to watch swimming as a kid. I LIVED for the Summer Olympics. I remember watching in on our TV in our old house--the '88 Olympics, on my parent's small TV in their bedroom. I grew up worshiping the likes of Dara Torres and Summer Sanders. I loved to swim, and am well aware that I never met my full potential in that sport. Just when I needed to step it up a notch and swim year-round--right around, oh, age 12-13 or so--along came band and cheerleading and softball and boys and all the other reasons why I didn't want to stare at a black line for hours on end. I don't really regret it, since I think about all the things I got to experience instead. But I've accepted that I never got to see how far I'd go in that sport. Conversely, I'm on an absolute thrill-ride seeing how far I've come in a sport I NEVER thought I'd enjoy--running. So it all evens out, I think, in the end.

I'm only halfway through, but I love DT even more now that I'm reading this book. I think I can really identify with her in a lot of ways. Not in the 24 second 50 meter way. (In my dreams....) But check this out....sound familiar?

"One thing I learned from being a pregnant athlete and then an athlete-mom is that when it comes to women, sports, and child-bearing, often people's first reaction is to say, "No you can't." You can't do those exercises. You can't go that fast. You can't win that race. But most of the time that negativity is not based on fact. It's based on ignorance or fear. So I chose to do my own research. I wanted to learn what my own body could take." --page 71

Well played, DT. Well played indeed.

Here's another one I like:

"...other people were constantly insinuating that age did matter, that even at 33 I was too old to compete. "Don't you feel terrible in the water?" people would ask. "You know, being so old and out of the water for so many years?" Questions like that really bothered me until I realized they had very little to do with me. Our whole culture is so terrified of growing older, so sure that life goes to hell progressively once you pass 25 or 30 or 35--whatever number people have stuck on their heads. But I came to see such negativity as a reflection of other people's fears about life, a window into the ways in which so many of us are limiting ourselves and selling ousrselves short. I decided, back then, not to live that way." --page 109

I know now that the best is yet to come. I've been so lucky and blessed so far, in racing but really just in life in general, and it's easy to get stuck in the routine and enter another age group and feel like, "That's it...the good times/races/days are over." But that, my friends, is total bull. One day, I'm going to qualify for the Boston Marathon. One day, I might even become the swimmer I could have been 20 years ago. Or one day, maybe I'll even hit a home run over the fence. (My one and only lonely home run on record was inside the park.) Who knows? I don't know what I'm doing next week...or certainly next school year.

But I know one thing for sure: I am not going to slow down.

Style 101

I have an confession to make.

If I'm wearing my nice black dress boots, like to church or work or something, you can bet that I'm most likely wearing ridiculous cycling socks underneath.

It started because I could never find any black socks in my drawer. Now it's just because they are super comfy.

I never said you should look to me for fashion tips.

Too much of a good thing?

Is there such a thing as too much cyber-interaction?

I dunno...I have a blog and stuff, but for some reason I'm thinking I'm gonna pull my facebook account. Just a few things that have gotten me a bit worried. When I signed up a while back, I didn't know you could restrict privacy and all that jazz until after the fact. I guess the thing I like about here is I'm in charge, you know? Not so much a fan of not being in charge of ME...hmmm....so, if I drop off the FB radar, don't be offended, K? I still got mad love for ya.

Plus, I just like to write. More than a sentence. So I'm sticking around here FO' SHO'.

Holy crap, I leave for New Orleans in 2 weeks.

And holy crap, I need to find a bike box. And figure out what to do with it. Fast.

Hoping to get one more ride outside before I A) find a bike box, B) figure out what to do with said box and C) send my bike somewhere. So, Saturday, if you're listening, 50 degrees or so would be splendid. K, thx.

Had a fantabulous swim yesterday. I wasn't sure how good I'd be since I haven't been to the pool much (story of my past few months--see, if it's not in my basement, it's hard to do), but I busted out my fastest 100 that I can remember for some time. Scwheet. Don't worry, it still wasn't THAT fast...but fast for me. For post-14-year-old-me, I should say. :)

Alright, so we need to figure out how much off the radar we're gonna drop, and all kinds of bike logistics, and squeezing in a few more rides and...uh...I'd better sign off here before I get all kinds of overwhelmed.

Happy Friday!

Hey swimming and cycling--YOU LISTENIN'?

What the freak show has gotten into my running lately?!

I don't know what the heck's going on. But it's in a good way. Earlier this week I did 6 miles and negative split it heeeyooooggggee-ly, and today I did the same thing on my 1:45 run. Ended up going 11.5 miles with a ginormous negative split.

Bonus!

It's seriously nuts. What feels like a nice easy pace is what used to borderline my half marathon race pace. I'm not sure what's going on. I swear I'm not on "the cream" or "the clear."

You hear that, A-Rod? I AM LEGIT.

Anyhoo.

Training is ramping up, which means I am teetering on the borderline of sanity/insanity. It also means I am EATING EVERYTHING THAT IS NOT NAILED DOWN. This week threw some crazy curveballs at me, but I'm going to be able to hit most of my workouts, which I am pretty darn proud of.

The pool is--the pool, meaning, it's not in my basement so it's harder to get to, but I'm super consistent when I'm there (pace-wise, that is). I feel like such a pool underachiever. If I could get there 4-5 times a week, I'm sure I'd see some definite time dropped off. But I just don't have that luxury. So, I'm just trying to get there as much as I can, which lately, hasn't been much. Good thing I can (relatively speaking of course) kinda wing it...I definitely can't do that on the bike or run.

Cycling is coming along. I am coming to terms with the fact that I might have to just sack up and get outside in very much less than ideal conditions here pretty soon. I mean, holy CRAP it's almost March, which means I'm almost a MONTH OUT...and I really need to get a little actual road experience, you know? So I'm really, really hoping for a nice 60-70 degree dry Saturday or Sunday in March. However, Cleveland is known to have absolutely nutty March weather, ranging from 75 and sunny to 15 and 18 inches of snow. So, the reality is, I might have to bundle up and get out there in (gulp) more like 40 degrees.

*crossing fingers*

So there you have it. A teensy part of me is thinking perhaps I should have signed up for a spring marathon with the way this running is going, and knock a few minutes off on my quest to BQ. But, there's plenty of time for that, right?

After all, in 4 years, my qualifying time goes up five more minutes.

(don't worry--there ain't no WAY I'm waiting THAT long) ;)

I'll leave you with a little conversation that was had in my doctor's office last week:

Nurse: I'll just need to take your blood pressure.

TST: OK--no problem!

Nurse: *looks at the numbers* Wow, that's really low...

TST: Yeah, I know. My old doctor used to joke with me about it...

Nurse: Well, that's a good thing! Now let me take your resting pulse.

TST: *thinking: oooo goody! this is always a fun one*

Nurse: *scrunches face* Um...wait, let me do this one more time...

pause for dramatic effect

Nurse: *makes funny face* Wow--are you aware your resting pulse is 47? Do you exercise or something?

TST: Uh, yeah. A little bit.

Yahoo for endurance sports! You make TST's ticker strong. :)

Race Weight...do I have such a thing?

Hmmmm.

So today I had a FANTABULOUS run.

Well--back up.

Today, I had such a fun morning with the boys...I woke up and Matt got us yummy bagels. Then, we took Bug to a local library for a singing and story show with our buddies and his friends, Norah and Elliot. Then we all went back to our friend's place and they played while we caught up and ate a tasty lunch. Then Bug fell asleep on the way home.

THEN, I went for a run.

And it was fabulous. I was supposed to do 20 minutes at "base," then 20 minutes of Zone 2 including a few pickups to 5K pace. I opted not to do that, as the roads were hella icy and I was afraid I'd lose my footing since we all know my 5K pace really requires serious wheezing/heaving/possible wiping out on a perfect day, let alone an icy one. Then I was supposed to hold 20 minutes at "Zone 3" which I took to be tempo, and the rest cool down.

So the interesting thing is that my "base" time averaged 8:56/mile. Which is funny, as it felt great and easy, and that SO was not my base time pre-Bug. My tempo was about 8:20, which given that part of it was on a seriously snowy sidestreet, I was happy. And even with an easy cooldown, my overall pace for the 8.5 miles was 8:51.

Funny, also, that this run took me a total of 1:15 and it took me 2:13 to go only 8 miles last weekend! My how times and terrains have changed.

But I digress.

Anyhoo, what I was thinking is that I have lost a few more pounds. Don't get too excited or anything, but I'm at just about 144/145 now, which is definitely lower than when I got tested in Chicago at VQ last year (I weighed in at 153 there). I'm wondering if those few extra pounds are playing a role in why it feels easier to go at a faster pace at base.

Also, I just bought the greatest pair of pants ever. Reason #1: They were $7.47 marked down from $59.00. Yes, I am the BARGAIN QUEEN, beeyotches. Reason #2: They are a size FOUR.

FOUR?!

I have never in my life been a size 4. Not even at birth. I went from a 14/16 girls to a size 10 in middle school. Holy vanity sizing, Batman.

But it's weird, as I still feel like my basic frame is the same...I think it just rearranged or something. But it also made me think more about this whole idea of those couple of extra pounds playing a role in my pace.

So that's the scoop on that.

Oh, and why can't my suit give me a little warning that it's going to disintegrate? Seriously. I mean, I put the thing on last week and it's fine. I put it on this week and I am borderline indecent. Thank goodness I could hit swimoutlet.com to take a stab at the grab bag again. I went with the TYR reversible again (which is what I currently have), as I figure that at least ONE side is presentable. So far, I've never been let down by the grab bag! It's the only time I ever gamble.

I am definitely super tired now, and have been sleeping like a rock this week as the workouts are really ramping up. I can't believe I'm approaching 8 weeks to New Orleans...where has the time gone?!

Tomorrow morning it's time trial time in the pool...wish me luck!

"We do not remember days, we remember moments."--Cesare Pavese

So I had a BIG decision to make today.

Snowstorm? Or dreadmill?

Where will I spend my 1:30 run today?

See, it started snowing yesterday. And just. kept. snowing. Until, like right about NOW.

Poor Matt's battling a bug (not The Bug, but a NASTY bug) and I've been pretty much tethered to ginger ale and my Bug. I couldn't make the trail run this morning, and I really, really needed to get some practice in for next week (since I feel like I'm going to get my arse handed to me on a silver platter) so I really, REALLY wanted to go outside.

But 12-18 inches of snow?

Could I do that?

Hmmmmm.

I looked outside. I looked at both sets of clothes. I looked outside again.

I put the shorts and tank top away.

As Matt and his old high school football buddies would say, "WETSU!" Which, loosely translated means, "We Eat This Stuff Up," although in their 17 year old football tough guy glory they substituted another word for "stuff."

I like snow. I am a runner. Therefore, I like running in snow. (Is that the associative property? I can never remember)

So I put on some tights, a hoody, got the iPod ready to go, the Garmin all cued up, and put Bug down for a nap. Matt was napping, too. So it was go time!

I decided that for a venture this crazy, I'd need my Ironman jacket. I rarely wear it anymore, because, I dunno...I feel kind of silly wearing it. It says FINISHER really big on the back. I just don't want to be "that guy," you know? I akin it to wearing the shirt of the band you're going to see, somehow. You don't want to be that guy. I know this is silly, but whatevs. I was putting on my reflective vest thingy over it, so that I'd be a screaming yellow-striped pink hooded freak to any cars I'd see as I'd most likely need to run in the sidestreets. No one would really see the huge FINISHER thing on me anyway, but it would be my little secret.

The snow was still coming down pretty hard, and I'd be lucky to find more than 2 or 3 consecutively shoveled sidewalks. I mean, I shoveled last night at 9:30 and then my awesome neighbors ran the snowblower this morning, and it looked like I hadn't even done a THING.

So I took off.

And I felt about five years old again. I wished I could have put Bug in the stroller but then I might have gotten child services called on me, but I just knew he'd love it. I was slipping and sliding a lot (note to self: YakTraks are a MUST for next week) and had my arms flailing around like I was Elaine from Seinfeld dancing. But I was having a blast. I ran by people shoveling, kids making snowmen, and even a mountain biker who gave me a knowing smile and hello. We were both a little nuts, he and I. And loving it.

The iPod cooperated, giving me a nice mix of songs that sent me all over space and time. I love how songs have a way of transporting you...like how when I hear Mr. Jones by Counting Crows, I'm instantly 16 again, or when Chumbawumba's Tubthumping comes on I'm a junior in college in Oxford, dancing on the coffeetable of our crappy house shared with 6 friends on 115 North Bishop Street. Sometimes I started to sing, because, really, who the hell was going to hear me today, anyway? And I even got to hear my favorite Beastie Boys lyric, "Because I got mad hits like I was Rod Carew."

(That's the kind of line I wish I thought of first.)

Then, another song came on that took me to the water in Lake Monona in September of 2006. Fatboy Slim's Right Here, Right Now. A song that played as I treaded water and literally was so afraid I peed my neoprene pants. And I was reminded. Of what was on my back.

Ironman is a funny thing. It never leaves you; it changes you. It's a part of you always, but it shouldn't define you. The story of my life is relatively boring and wouldn't sell many books at Barnes and Nobles or anything, but in my own head sometimes I enjoy remembering these tiny moments...these flashes of time where I was laughing, crying, or changing myself forever. What is fast approaching two and a half years ago, for one moment today as I was knee-deep in snow, was as vivid in my memory as the step I just took on the pavement.

And I'm so, so glad I took that run outside today. Because I had that perfect storm of a perfect storm, a perfect song, and a perfect memory.

And when I got home and was stretching downstairs, Matt was watching television and the video for Thriller came on. When the dance break came in, I looked at him, grinned, got up, and did the dance. From memory.

And then, I was seven again.

What Makes Me Happy

So, I've been tagged by two super awesome people--Curly Su and TriTeacher--and out of my respect for them both, I don't want to ignore their tag. Two seriously creative and inspiring people, they are...so how on earth am I going to do this tag justice?

I'll try.

Here goes.

I'm supposed to give 6 things that make me happy.

1. Michael Jackson

No, not 2008 Michael Jackson. I'm talking Michael Jackson circa 1984. The red jacket, sparkly-gloved Michael Jackson. Would you believe he's still on my iPod, and when he comes on I just can't help but shake what my momma gave me? Even if it's on the treadmill, like it was yesterday. Wedged between Pantera's "F-ing Hostile" and System of a Down's "Chop Suey" came "Billie Jean." Yes, I ran on the treadmill mouthing the words the whole time and even thought about pausing the run just so I could dance. I didn't. But let's just say that I might have before.

Hearing old school Michael Jackson reminds me of being about seven years old, living in our little bungalow on Osborn Road, and dancing. I'm reminded of my childhood and innocence, which is ironic considering the subject of said reminder. But I smile when I remember asking my mom, what does he mean that 'the kid is not my son?' and, to Madonna's "Papa Don't Preach," what does she mean 'she's in trouble deep but she made up her mind and she's keeping her baby," to which my mom's reply was THERE WILL BE NO MORE MTV IN THIS HOUSE EVER.

2. Mugsy the Pug

I pretty much have wanted a dog since I could talk. We never had one, and I made up my mind that the second I could get a dog, I would. Well, after college I had an apartment for four years with a no dog clause. Arg. Finally, in 2004 I got married and we got a house. And you know what? I got my dog.

He's the most loyal, loveable, mischevious, stinky-breathed, hyperactive, twirling, produce-loving, snoring, best friend a girl could have. I am not sure how I made it 27 years without him.

3. Having a job that I love and I know makes a difference

I know in today's often cut-throat, market-driven world, this is hard to come by. Some days are hard, and I'm not going to lie about it. But most of the time, my day flies by because I love what I do. And two or three times a year I even get a note or an expression of thanks that makes it worthwhile. Those little teeny notes of thanks are enough to keep me going. At that age of student I work with, a note of thanks means a lot and goes VERY far. Some of my former students are missionaries, members of Doctors Without Borders, and teachers themselves. It makes me truly happy to know I've had a chance--even just a small chance--to help them grow into themselves and try to make the world a better place.

4. Making a good meal to share

I don't like to bake, because I don't like to measure. I cook much like my Dad--a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and little to no recipe. I think good cooking comes with taking a bit of risks and trying to find things that complement each other, and I love to make a really good meal to share with Matt or with friends. I love how good food brings people together.

5. Water

I don't think I'd ever be able to live too far from a large body of water. Not that I even have a boat or anything. I just love to walk up to the Lake with Bug and Matt and Mugsy almost every night in the summer and relax. I love living so close to my open water training. It was one of the things I didn't like about Cincinnati--even though the Ohio River was there. It wasn't big enough for me. There's just something about watching the sunset over the water and listening to the waves crash. Even in the winter, I love to walk up at the Lake and watch the waves.

6. My son and husband

Okay, I realize I should probably split these into two reasons, but I can't. Someday, when I look back on my life, I'll realize even more than I do now how these chapters unfolded and changed me for the better. There really was my life before Matt, and my life since. And me before the day Jackson arrived, and me since. The same person, but an entirely new, bliss-filled level of happiness. My very definition of love changed; of happy changed. Of all the hard work that relationships and children can be, the happiness we share in our home is worth more than I can explain in words.

Merry Christmas and best wishes for a life filled with joy and happiness!

Coming up for air

Taking a brief moment to post a few momentary, random thoughts:

• My students are SO ready and I'm pretty excited for them. They are finally understanding that they can do it. It rocks.
• Subway cookies might be the most delicious treats on the planet.
• I had 2 absolutely rocking runs--one with JayZ yesterday and a great fartlek run in the rain (again) today.
• My Nutter girls ALL PR'D and I am SOOOOOOO PROUD OF THEM! And of Mr. Lush, too--he PR'd and went sub-2! Yahoooooooooooo to my girls!

Looking forward to the race--can't believe it's just around the corner and my girl TriShannon will be here soon! Boo-yah!

Okay, that's all--gotta run! Get me to Friday....

Six Word Memoir

Whew.

It's Wednesday, and I'm as tired as I am on Fridays.

Yikes.

DBQs will do that to you...but they are done (yay!) and my students have really improved so much. I am excited and nervous for them as they enter the home stretch before the AP test. All I can do is prepare them the best I can, I guess. The rest is up to them.

Went for a 4 mile run Monday and a 5 mile run yesterday with JayZ. He goes out cold every time. Yesterday I did an out and back and felt like I was flying along for the first 2.5. And then, at the turnaround, the wind hit. Man, when that wind picks up...whew. Let's just call it one long hill repeat, 'cause that's pretty much how it felt. The kickin' stroller is not very aerodynamic, and especially when you add a 20.25 pound six month old boy.

So I missed my tempo run, but oh well. I haven't really missed anything yet, which I am quite proud of, so this one time I'll chill about it. Flexible, flexible....right?

And this weekend I'll have a little 5K action that I'm going to try and treat like a tempo run, so I'll get some speedwork in there. I'm not holding my breath to race this one well, but hey, I'm just so excited to put a number on again! Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

So my boy Bubba will be doing his first 100 MILE RACE this weekend. Bubba, you CRAZY! But that's why we love him! Best of luck to you! He also had a six-word memoir on his blog, which I heard about on NPR and thought they were really cool. In six words, try to sum up your life. It's hard, huh? I think I've settled on mine:

"What do you mean, slow down?"--TriSaraTops

What's your six words?

Five Miler!

It has been pretty warm here! Yahoooo! I don't want to speak too soon, because when I do that, we usually get about 4 inches of snow, BUT...methinks spring is arriving.

So we decided to ring in the new season by taking JayZ out for a jog!

It went something like this:

Me: Are you sure the straps are tight enough? Double check the straps.

Matt: I checked them. Like, 82 times.

JayZ: Why did they put socks on my hands?

Me: I can't believe we have to put socks on his hands because we can't find any mittens.

Matt: Let's go!

JayZ: Seriously. They put socks. On my hands.

Me: How's he doing?

Matt: Fine.

(we run .017 miles)

Me: Now how's he doing?

Matt: Still fine.

JayZ: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ




Me: (every half mile) Is he still asleep?

Matt: Yes. I told you. He's still asleep.

JayZ: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

And that's how we all ran a nice 5 mile jog together. It was pretty awesome! We're both excited that we can actually a) get outside and b) not have to time up our runs with naps, although it seems that runs induce napping. Well, at least it did this time!


And here's a picture from Easter. I mean, seriously--can my kid look ANY MORE like my husband?! I swear, unless I was there the day he was born....sigh... :)


64 degrees today and a Tribe Opener win! It just doesn't get much better than that.

This is our year...no, really...well, maybe.

It's finally here!

The Indians home opener and my beloved Tribe's season. I can't wait to watch it today with JayZ (all decked out in his new Tribe outfit) and our buddies. I wish I could be down there. And, hey! Bonus--it's not snowing this year! But alas, I can't get out of work in time.

So for another season, I will stand by my boys just like I have for the past 30 seasons now (but I only remember 23-24 or so) and, hopefully, if I'm really lucky, avoid having my little heart crushed and smashed and stomped on in October. Like last year. And, the year before. And, in 1997. And, in 1995. And throughout most of the 80s when we were 30+ games in the cellar. And, well, you get the point.

:)

GO TRIBE!

I have a brief second here...

...(story of my life lately)...so I am posting very briefly.

I'm coming up for air under a sea of DBQ's to grade. Those of you who know what those are understand how NOT. FUN. TO. GRADE. THEY. ARE.

I told my AP kids not to expect them the next day, as each one takes at LEAST 10 minutes to grade. And I have 44 of them. One kid said, "Hey, that means you have seven hours and twenty minutes...minimum...of grading to do."

Thanks, dude. Rub it in.

Anyhoo, ran some snowy wet hill repeats this morning for 9 miles. I'm so darn slow on hills, but they are good for me. Kinda like brussel sprouts. You don't eat them because you like them. You eat them because they are good for you and stuff.

JayZ has found his feet, and his thumb. Which is pretty sweet. :)

Swimming is coming along well, too. I made the mistake of thinking that, in the end of last Monday's workout, my "300 at T- :12" was supposed to be my threshold pace minus twelve seconds for EACH 100, not overall. Consequently, I pretty much DIED. And wasn't able to finish it. Then my buddy told me I was doing it wrong and it was TWELVE SECONDS OVERALL. hee hee! That's funny. I kicked my own ass for no reason.

So, all three major Presidential candidates will be in Cleveland Monday and Tuesday--and one in the city I teach in on Monday! Pretty sweet. I think I know who my choice is but need to do a little more digging to be sure.

And TriShannon will be in Cleveland for my comeback half marathon. She's going to run a 1:50 with me. And I don't care how she feels about it. She's doing it with me and THAT'S THE END OF THE DISCUSSION.

And I've been tagged by Ange and Triguyjt, and I usually don't have time for these but since I'm rambling and making no sense here I go okay ready go:

Seven Random Things About Me:

1. My ancestry is Portuguese, Italian, Scotch-Irish, and German. But my married last name is 100% Polish.
2. I'm somewhat of a neat freak, except for my closet.
3. Robot Chicken is a damn funny show.
4. I'm not sure who I'd pick: Jack or Sawyer. Probably Jack.
5. I graduated college with one of the newest Cavaliers, Wally Szezerbiak. And I probably spelled that wrong. His girlfriend (now wife) was in my freshman dorm, and she grabbed him up at freshman orientation. None of us even had a chance. Oh well. :)
6. My nickname for many years was (and to some people is still) Arcs.
7. I don't really like cake. It doesn't do it for me. But ice cream does.

If you'd like to be tagged, you are.

I'm so out of time. Bye.

Happy Stuff

Okay, so now that my rotten week is over, and the worst of the bad stuff seems to have passed, here's some happy stuff:

• soooo excited to race this year I can barely stand it


• able to hold my 2 miles of tempo at an 8:07/mile this week--yippee! Am slowly working my way down to 7:50 tempo miles as "official" half mary training starts 2/17


• despite swimming 3 times in the past month, I didn' t get my butt kicked TOO bad today in the pool...yippeeeeeeeee


• also surprising today was my 1000 yard swim as it wasn't TOO far off what I would like to see it at...did it in 17:19...again, very pleased as I have been a total pool slacker lately


• the trainer is so much better when watching the Colbert Report


• Matt's birthday present totally kicks butt but I can't write what it is yet because he SOMETIMES reads this (and with my luck if I write what it is he'll check)


• got to have dinner with 2 of my Miami AGD buds, Miles and TBone last night--we had some good laughs, girl time, and pinot noir...mmmmmm


• Friday night got to have dinner with my funny friend Jon and his awesome fiance, Amy, so that cheered us up quite a bit


• 45 pounds down, my friends. 45 pounds.


• Guess who ROLLED OVER this week? I'll give you a hint: it wasn't me.

Let's Not Get Ahead of Ourselves

Reasons to do a little jig:

1. I can wear my old jeans...WITH a Bella Band, and it is not pretty. I basically have all muffin top to still lose. BUT--I can get in them and wear them if I chose, and the last time I tried 3 weeks ago there was NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO way. So yay!

2. The scale didn't budge for the first time this week...boooo...but I can do a little jig because of the above, and because a few other things are fitting better. So apparently things are "rearranging."

3. Yesterday, during my 2nd time in the pool since JayZ, I swam 100 yards in under 1:30. My jaw about hit the bottom of the pool. The other 3 100s I did totally blew, but it was a nice little boost for a second!

4. I got a HAWT little Brooks Hoodie Number at my fave local running store. I had a gift certificate from my birthday and had been saving it until I could actually run again. Yahoo! It's officially my comeback shirt.

5. The Buckeyes pulled it off today, and I totally did not expect them to.

Now, why I should NOT do a little jig:

1. Trying on those cute little running skirts on clearance at said local running store is a HORRIBLE IDEA when you've still got 20 pounds or so of muffin top to lose. HORRIBLE. WE'll definitely have to wait a few months for that. Ew.

The Inevitable Conversation

Mind: Next week is six weeks already.


Body: Yep. I'm still recovering.


Mind: I can't believe it's been six weeks already.


Body: Still recovering. You hear me?


M: I can't even put into words how much I love him.


B: That was all me, by the way. I grew that.


M: Seriously. More and more every day.


B: You're welcome.


M: I can tell things aren't the same. Anywhere.


B: Ya think?


M: I get down on myself sometime for not having things instantly back to normal.


B: Give me some time, for crying out loud. Look at what I just did. Can I have a little credit? Please?


M: I wonder if I can start running...or should I say, run/walking (aka wogging) next week?


B: I wish you'd give it a rest and chill out already.


M: I hope I can.


B: You're going to get frustrated if you think you can just go back to the way it was instantly.


M: I know, I know! Seriously, I know. I'm ready. I'm ready for the first "this sucks and I just peed my pants" run.


B: (No you're not.)


M: I'm slowly but surely dropping this weight, and that's good.


B: Once again, I JUST GREW A PERSON. CUT ME SOME FRICKEN SLACK.


M: My stomach looks like a deflated balloon.


B: SERIOUSLY I can't even talk to you right now.


M: I signed up for the Turkey Dash again this year...I know I won't be out at the bars driving my drunk best friend around until 3am like last year so maybe I'll actually make it?


B: If you think you can run the whole thing, you're on crack.


M: I KNOW!!!!! I'm fully accepting the fact that I will be wogging.


B: (No you haven't.)


M: It will be fun just to be out there and at a race again.


B: Don't forget. I just baked a person for you, so no getting pissy at being slow for the first few months.


M: I know!


B: (No you don't.)


M: No, REALLY. I know, I know, I know. You're much smarter than me. I think I finally understand that. You got me here. And you got me this:

...and because of that, I respect you now more than I ever have in my entire life.

B: Well it's about time.

M: I wonder if I will be OK to start running next week....?

B: Oh brother.

Pardon Me While I Beat Myself Up

Today was a BEEEYOOOOTIFUL crisp, fall day in C-town, and all I could think about was how good it would be to go for a run.

Sigh.

I had to settle for a walk. Which was nice, but just not the same as a good fall run.

And I'm being irrational about my weight and need to cut it out, pronto.

I dropped 30 pounds virtually instantly, but since then the scale has not budged much. And I want it to. NOW. NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW.

I realize that tomorrow is 28 days since JayZ got here, and I am being stupid. I am doing everything I can...dutifully entering my Weight Watchers points, walking 3 miles a day, blah blah blah. I can't possibly expect my body to be back to normal now.

But I want to.

Blah.

I think once I can actually start running/swimming/more-than-walking, I'll feel better. I'm going to ask the Doc Wednesday if I can try the elliptical. I mean, if I'm walking...that shouldn't be a problem...right?

Blah.

But I look at my little man's face and think how much it was worth it.

And then I eat a piece of celery and want to go for a run.

Can somebody please send me some patience?

NOW?!?!