Excuse me while I un-bury myself from the snow

You know what?

I heart me some snow. But right about now--in March--I'm kinda over it. And that's really unfortunate, because March is typically when we get our biggest storms. Like today. It started snowing last night and isn't supposed to stop until we have about TWELVE INCHES on the ground.

I just got a new student from Dallas, and he asked on Friday, "So, when is this supposed to stop?"

I sort of laughed.

I told him probably by April, except for last year when we got 12 inches on Easter.

He didn't look too excited.

But then I was reminded of a story I heard on some talk radio (I know, I'm sort of a dork, and listen to talk radio--especially when I was home on maternity leave and needed a little intellectual stimulation) of how some dude did research on "happiness" and "measuring happiness" within this country, and compared to other countries. He said he did one study in Michigan in March. Their weather is quite similar to ours. And many subjects said they would be "happier" to live somewhere else, like Southern California. Where the weather was nicer.

But you know what?

The author dude interviewed subjects in SoCal and did not see any higher "rate" of "happiness" (and I'm not sure how he measured this) there. People there were worried about things, too...just other things. Like the cost of living. Or other natural disasters NOT involving snow, like mudslides. Things that I don't really have to worry about. I thought that was really interesting.

Because every time it does this here I hear all the weather forecasters moaning and groaning about the doomsday storm we're about to have. Complaining. Like it's part of their job to complain, too, when giving us the weather. But even my student from Dallas said that the summers are pretty unbearable at times down there. 105 degrees and humid? No thanks.

So you know what? I REFUSE to complain about this storm. It's really quite pretty out there today. I'm going to enjoy this day as I'm still in my PJ's, and so is JayZ. I just lit the fire and I have a new Inside Triathlon and Runner's World magazine to read. And an 8 mile run to do, which will be on the dreadmill and I'll just get caught up on the Daily Show and Colbert. Tomorrow, the trainer will do, but I know that it's going to hit 50 degrees this week and riding on the roads again isn't too far away. And I can't wait for another year or two where, on a day like this, I'll fill a thermos with hot chocolate, bundle us all up, and hit the hill for some serious sledding.

So wherever you are...don't worry about it, whatever it may be. And carpe diem.

On Change

Yesterday, when I composed that post, I had just had a pretty tough week at work, then had my car bumped enough to do a little damage, and then tried to go on a 10 mile run, only to get about a mile and a half out to just feel a lump in my throat which I couldn't explain. So I stopped, turned around, listened to Jack Johnson's "All At Once" off his new album, walked home, and then cried. For no particular reason. I just felt overwhelmed.

After relaxing, playing some Rock Band, and having (finally) a good night's sleep, I decided to try again today. JayZ went down for a nap, and the sun was out and it was near 50 degrees (my favorite running weather), so I donned Brooks Comeback Hoodie, my iPod shuffle, the Garmin, and my shoes.

And I thought I'd try again.

Here's a rough estimate of my internal monologue.

Wow, it's nice out here. The snow is melting, the sky is blue, and I don't even have to wear gloves or a hat. This rocks.

Even the air smells like spring. I'm not naive enough to believe that this means spring is officially in Northeastern Ohio...I've lived here long enough to understand that March is, at best, schizophrenic in its weather patterns. But this is a taste. And the sun sure feels good on my face.

Today is Jackson's 5 month birthday.

Today is 5 months until I'll be diving in the water at Steelhead.

How has it already been five months?

Here it goes...mile 1. BEEP

9:09.

Huh. How 'bout that. That's exactly the pace I'll need to hit to run a 4 hour marathon in the fall. Heart rate is good, but that's a little fast for a ten mile run. I'd better slow down. I'd like to hold this thing around 9:15.

Oops. There's a puddle. Damn. Now my feet are wet. Oh well...it just means it's warming up.

I wonder if Jackson woke up yet.

There's an Obama sign. I wonder what's going to happen this Tuesday. Our state's gonna play a pretty big role here. That's kind of exciting.

I need to make a final decision. There are things I love and things I despise about all three of the big candidates. I think I know who I'm going to vote for Tuesday. I think.

Okay, here comes Mile 2. BEEP

8:56

Huh? (Makes a strange face) Okay...heart rate's still good. Where did that come from? Regardless...I'd better slow down. I can't hang for 10 miles at this pace.

More Obama signs. No Hillary ones. Interesting.

Mile 3. Here I go...BEEP

8:47

Okay, what the FREAK SHOW IS GOING ON.

Is this some kind of joke? Am I running downhill AND with a tailwind?

But this is the same route I always run when the snow is melting. Melty Snow Route is great because I can run on sidestreets and avoid slushy sidewalks and stuff.

Heart rate is still good. RPE is still relatively easy.

I guess I'll...go with it?

You should.

Why?

Because. I'm trying to show you something here.

Am I going to keel over after ten miles at this pace?

Nope. I'm trying to show you.

Show me what?

You're not the same.

I know that...I'm having a hard time trying to figure out who exactly I am now and how to be this new person...

Well, just stop already.

What?

I mean, stop. Stop analyzing. Stop worrying. Stop comparing. Just do this thing.

Do what?

Be what you're becoming.

Okay...

Understand that you can't stick to some schedule you might have used before. You need to be flexible, you need to bend more. You need to cut yourself some slack.

I know...I'm trying...

And I'm trying to show you just how much you've changed.

How so?

I'm trying to show you how strong you are now.

(silence)

You never believe me. You always try to talk yourself out of it. So I'll just show you, now, out here, how strong you've become.

(silence again)

And then I just ran. I just ran at a pace that felt good, and at a heart rate that was appropriate for a longer run. I heard a few birds. I saw kids making slushy snowmen out of the heavy, melting snow. I saw other runners out, enjoying the day. I saw what my watch said, and I could hardly believe it.

Before I knew it, I was back at home. A far cry from yesterday's failed attempt at a run. I finished my ten miles.

At an average pace of 8:53.

8:53.

?!

My body has always, always been smarter than me. Time and time again, it's tried to tell me what should be obvious. What I should know anyway.

I am strong enough for this. And getting stronger every single day.

I know today won't be the last time I see snow on the grass. I'm sure we'll have another few storms here in March--and they are traditionally the worst ones of the year. Last year we got a foot of snow on Easter in early April, for crying out loud.

But Spring is coming.

Things are changing. Including me.

And whatever storms might still brew in my mind, today showed me that the sun is coming. The weather's getting warmer. The sky didn't turn dark last night until almost seven.

Things are changing around here. Mostly with me.

So, hopefully, you'll stick around to watch this. I have a feeling it's going to get pretty good.

On Underestimation

It can be a beautiful, wonderful thing.

I had no idea how much I'd underestimate how much I'd love this little baby.

I knew that I would love him.

But I had no idea how much, and I can't even really describe it. I've tried to think of the best words, but I just can't.

I simply am in awe.

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.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

"I am fearfully and wonderfully made." --Psalm 139:14

This was the verse that the sermon focused on today, the day we baptized our son. I haven't been to church since he's been born--something I'm not really proud of. I've been praying a lot--a LOT--don't get me wrong, but I haven't actually been to a service until today.

And that was the verse that the sermon focused on.

That was also the verse that I had typed small and taped in my bento box during Ironman. Because it reminds me that I'm stronger than I think, because that's how I've been made.

Interesting, no?

I'm continuing to be amazed by what my body's been doing. Yesterday, I ran a very hard, hilly 10 miles out at Hinckley with some of my Soler buds. It was hard, and it kicked my butt, and I loved it. We negative split it a bit, which is saying a lot for that loop. The last time I ran that loop was August of '06 with IronJohnny as we prepared for IMW.

It felt good to be back.

But cold. It was about 14 degrees when we started. (That's cold for here...I know it's balmy for some of my other blog friends) It was so cold the first mile that I could barely feel my hands except for the stinging.

Today?

Sunny, 51 degrees, and not a cloud in the sky this afternoon. I ran in shorts. A little windy, though. My Ironman hat flew off and almost landed in a creek. I saved it, of course.

My running is coming along really, really strong. Surprisingly strong, for me. I'm very excited to see what I can do this year.

It's pretty amazing what these bodies can do, you know?

Things I Heart

(in no particular order)


Carrots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Being chubby!

Being a Ladies Man!

And my Mommy.



Happy Valentine's Day....

Love,

JayZ

Twelve Year Old Me

I've been going to this awesome triathlon swimming clinic thingy my buddy Rob is running out at Oberlin College. It's been a lot of fun, although I haven't been as regular as I would like. But, I'm getting out there and seeing some of my tri buds and getting a real tough workout in, which is good stuff.

And the best part?

It's totally working.

Somehow, on only swimming once every 2 weeks, I'm getting faster. This makes me get excited to think what I could actually do when life settles down a bit and I can get to the pool more than once every 2 weeks.

How much is it working?

So much that I've actually been pretty shocked when I've been hitting the wall for most of the sets. From 50s, to 100s, and all the way up to 1000 yards. I'm like..."huh?" And, "really?"

Okay. We'll go with it.

But last week in the pool I thought of something, as I hit the wall for another set of 50s. I hit the split I needed to, and it was pleasantly hard...I was out of breath and had to really move the arms as I saw the black line rising up the wall. Rob asked me, "How'd those go?" I should have said good. Great even.

But I replied, "....okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay..." I said. "I mean, I hit it, but I just remembered what I did when I was 12 years old."

He laughed and assured me that his twelve years old times were also a wee bit faster than today. And this coming from a guy who's freakishly fast.

For some reason, I thought about this on the whole ride home. I remembered what it's like to be in a swim meet. I haven't had one of those in a long time, but I still remember this one in particular. The one where I set my PR. The 50 free. In North Olmsted, Ohio, in a sort of crappy indoor complex. Those of you who are swimmers know what I mean here as I describe the sound of a 50 yard freestyle sprint. It's the quiet sound of your arms moving in water followed by a brief interlude of absolute screaming as you turn your head for a breath.

By the looks of this one, I could tell it was going to be close. My coach was screaming and I could see my teammates yelling at the top of their lungs. You can never make out any words...you just hear this mumbled roar. So I kicked it into the highest gear I could.

And I beat her. By barely a half a stroke.

That was Twelve Year Old Me. Shortly thereafter, I stopped swimming year 'round. I made the cheerleading squad (I know...don't laugh), decided I really wanted to be a fastpitch softball pitcher, set my sights on first chair flute, and went onto high school. Eventually, boys actually talked to me. Times got slower as I wasn't able to give swimming my all, as they usually do.

And then I was done.

(For a while.)

Now, Thirty Year Old Me swims in a pool with triathlon friends and tries to bring down my times as best I can on an every-other-week-swim schedule. There are bills to pay, diapers to change, and work to be done. There's no coach screaming for me to outkick the girl next to me.

But once you hear those sounds...you sort of always hear those sounds.

And I think what I've come to realize is that I am in triathlon because of Twelve Year Old Me.

Because, whenever I come to the wall after a hard set, I can sort of see her in the lane next to me. She's already at the wall. She's even smirking a little bit.

I don't know if I'll ever catch her. But her presence helps drive me.

I don't really get too into the age-group awards thing anymore, and that's probably a result of me not having much of a chance to place in age-group anymore unless it's a short distance race with not many people in it.

But I do get into beating Twelve Year Old Me.

I just wanna wipe that smirk off her face.

She doesn't know a lot of things. She doesn't know that Thirty Year Old Me has seen a lot more than she has and done a lot more, nor does she really care for that matter. She doesn't know how Twenty Nine Year Old Me trained for an Ironman for a year while performing a delicate balancing act with my career, friends, family, and relationships. She doesn't care about all that, because she can still beat me.

I can race her knowing these things. Understanding that, although she might beat me to the wall, there's a lot more that I've gotten to see and do by being a few seconds behind her.

She has no idea what 18 Week Pregnant Me did when I ran a 5K faster than she'd be able to do.

(She hates running, you see.)

She also doesn't know that 18 Week Postpartum Me is able to run 10 miles at a pace faster than Twenty Nine Year Old Me was able to do during Ironman training.

All she cares about is that she's at the wall faster than me. So she bobs there with her swim cap and her royal blue summer swim team suit that's faded a bit, with her event written on her hand in a black sharpie. And I'll let her go, because I know that I wouldn't trade those few seconds for the world.

But the idea that I might even be able to come close to her again is pretty exciting. And the understanding that I could absolutely annihilate her in anything over a 50 freestyle is also pretty cool. But she doesn't want to race that, you see.

When she mouthed off at practice, she was always getting threatened to be doing the 200 IM or 100 fly or some other event that would have been horrible horrible horrible for her. She only wants to do what she's good at.

And Thirty Year Old Me has done a lot more, mostly way out of my comfort zone. So I'll let her have this one little victory.

(For now.)

SNOW DAY SNOW DAY SNOW DAY!

Yahoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo no school tomorrow due to wind chill!!!!!

I realize that our wind chill is NUTHIN' next to what my bloggy friends to the north are dealing with (JenniferP, all the Twin Cities peeps) but it was enough for Northeastern Ohio.

And now I might actually get caught up on some things--like sleep! Boooooooooo yah!

I swear we're worse than the kids...

SNOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW DAY! :)

Stay warm everyone!

All I have time for

I'm behind on blogs and emails, most likely permanently. Or until June. Hope you understand.

This is very, very hard. I'm trying to keep all emotions in check, but it's rough. However, every day gets a little bit better.

For now, I only have time for a few numbers:

50 pounds lost

10 miles ran Saturday at a negative split (last 3 miles under 9)

2 miles at a 7:53 pace last night during my tempo run

And with that, I've gotta go.

Oh, the ways we trick ourselves...

I have to trick myself sometimes. Like, during IM training, I wouldn't shower the night before I had to swim. I always shower at night, so that would FORCE me to shower in the morning...and if I have to take a shower in the morning, I might as well do a swim, see?

So yesterday, after being up from 2-5am and being so ridiculously exhausted that I wasn't even making sense at times, I picked up JayZ to find him just going down for a nap.

Hmmmmm. Decision time.

Do I watch the Lost recap on the couch in PJs, or do I watch the Lost recap while running 5 miles on the dreadmill?

Before I had time to rationally answer that question, I POUNDED a mint-chocolate gu.

Because, see, after you eat a GU, it's really sort of necessary that you run, right? I mean, who pounds a gu like a college freshman pounds a Natty Light, and then goes to doze on the couch?

So I did. And, as usual, despite feeling soooooo tired that I barely knew my name, a good run makes it all better. And going to bed at 8:30 and sleeping soundly until 6:30 because my husband ROCKS also makes it all better.

Because, in my book, a tired groggy dreadmill run is always better than no run at all.

I Can't Fight It

So, I've had this problem/issue since I was a little kid. Often I wake up in the middle of the night for some reason and then my mind RACES RACES RACES over everything I have to do and OMG, it's getting late and did I do this already? and I can't believe I have so much to do tomorrow and oh no now it's 3:37am.

So, since I was probably 8 or 9 years old, I turn my alarm clock around. I have to, or I drive myself nuts. And this has worked pretty well.

So the plan was to work out before school so that I wouldn't have to do it when I got home. BUT, JayZ usually gets up once a night, unless we are lucky and he sleeps totally through, or to about 5am. The past 2 nights it's been around 2am.

It doesn't even matter if I get up or if Matt does. I'm up. And then I start to worry.

And then I can't fall asleep for, oh, about 2 hours.

Ugh.

So I had wonderful runs Monday and Tuesday, when he slept the whole way through. But since then I haven't because I've had the most random sleep schedule ever and been totally stressing about it.

So, I've decided on a new plan of attack.

• I will run at least 2 times during the week. This will happen Mondays and Wednesdays when Matt can get home fast after his school lets out. That way I can still spend good quality time with JayZ but Matt can play with him while I run...or JayZ might even take a little catnap, which would make me feel even better. I just don't want to miss anything.
• Runs won't be more than 6 miles for now, so I will be done in less than an hour.
• On the weekend, I'll do my longer run of 8-10 miles Saturday, and then either swim or run on Sunday.
• Core work will be done almost every day that I can, since I can have JayZ on the floor with me.
• A Friday 5 mile-ish run will be added when I can, to give me 4-5 runs and 1 swim for the week.
• I'm going to not worry as much about riding for now. I should be getting some spinervals DVDs soon so when I do I'll sneak them in on the weekend...maybe on Sundays. Something's gotta go, and since my early race is a half marathon, I feel like for now I can put cycling on the back burner. I know I should work on my limiter, but I just don't have enough hours in the day for now, and Steelhead isn't until August, so that buys me a little more time.
• Next year, when I get more settled and JayZ hopefully sleeps through most nights, then I will resume early morning runs, since I do actually enjoy them.

This way, when I get up at 2 or so, I won't put so much pressure on myself to hurry up and get back to sleep for 5am's wakeup call. Plus, I will be leading a 7am review session for APUS History every week starting next week. I will get to school relatively early all days and use that time for grading/planning, since even that still gives me some extra morning time.

So that's the plan.

Whew.

Now if I can just get through today without falling asleep...

And it's done.

We're all fine.

JayZ laughed and giggled all day long, and snoozed, and pooped. The usual. He even "left me a message" on my home machine to say he was happy and giggled. It was soooo cute and made me smile.

I got up, ran 5 miles, got ready, and then we had to WAKE JAYZ UP (seriously. the kid rocks.) to take him to the sitter's. Yes, he slept ALL NIGHT.

I cried a little when I said bye, and when I first walked in my classroom. Just a teensy bit.

And then, it felt kinda good to be back. Just a teensy bit.

I got very busy, which made time fly. And then it was time to go.

A good friend said it best to me when he tried to describe what I (and what we) are feeling right now. He said it's a revolution of your heart and mind. I think that's the closest thing I can liken it to. My heart and mind have been completely, 100% rewired over the past four months. I never knew it was possible to love something so much.

So tomorrow, we do it all again. Except it's a tempo run in the morning.

And another big smile and giggle around 3:30.

Ugh.

Okay.

I just cried for, oh, about an hour and a half. And I'M AT HOME.

I started while I was feeding him today, and then I just couldn't stop. He kept smiling at me, and I kept crying. Matt says I'm in big trouble when we take this kid off to college.

Ugh.

Maybe I'll get it all out of my system before tomorrow? Wishful thinking....?

Ugh.

A Few More Days

Well, I go back to work on Monday. I can't believe it's been 16 weeks already....SIXTEEN WEEKS.

How did JayZ choose to celebrate? By sleeping for TEN HOURS.

That's right. It's not a typo.

This morning I awoke to hear my neighbor shoveling snow. Then, I had a small moment of panic. Wait...if he's out there shoveling snow...it must be...morning?

MORNING!

I looked at the clock. 6:31.

OMG.

I darted into JayZ's room...and he was fast asleep. I had last seen him when I kissed him goodnight at 9:15 last night.

Thanks, buddy! :)

So I think I'm all ready. Diapers, wipes, and extra clothes are already at the babysitter's house. I have my first unit planned for AP and ready to go. World History is set since I've taught it for several years. I just need to get in there and make copies.

Monday. Monday it is.

I am really lucky that we could arrange so I didn't have to go back after 6 weeks. We only get 6 weeks paid, but Matt and I really wanted to have more time than that, so I've been unpaid for quite some time now. It's been a bit of a challenge and we've had to use our credit cards more than we'd like to, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Anything.

So I'll be bringing a few extra kleenax with me on Monday, and at least it's a teacher work day. So if I need to cry a little, no students have to see. I do want to be there. I do want to go back. I am choosing to go back, which I always said I wanted to do...I didn't want to have to go back unless I wanted to, and I do.

But it's still so hard to imagine my day away from him. Even though he takes a good morning and afternoon nap, as my buddy K at work told me to make me feel better. "Dude," she said, "He's gonna be sleeping for what, 3 hours anyway? And we only work 183 days out of the year."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It's still kind of hard to think about next week, though.

One of my former students was home for break and I got to meet her for some coffee. She's studying to be a high school science teacher, which is awesome, because she's one of the good ones. We really, really need the good ones to go into this field. I had her as a freshman in World History and she was wise and mature beyond her years, which she still is now. She just texted me the other day, because she knows I'm worried about how I'll handle going back. She said, "You love JayZ and you love teaching, and there's enough love in you for both."

She's right. There is. I just have to remember that when I step back into room 221.

I'll adapt and we'll make it work. I'm amazed at how well we've adapted so far. My body's never really let me down, and it's always been my mind that's my biggest foe. So I just need to remember to trust myself here. If chores fall by the wayside a bit, it's OK. If I can't cook a nice meal like I enjoy, then the microwave can be our friend for a few weeks. I'm lucky that Matt is so helpful. Now that we're both working out a lot we have a TON of smelly laundry, and he always pitches in. I'm hoping to get up early 3 times during the week (at least) to get a run or swim in, and then fit in longer workouts on the weekend.

I'm going to be a little tired...I can't expect JayZ to sleep as well as he did last night every night. But somehow, we'll make it work. We always do. We've made it work the past few months and had to sacrifice some things.

But it's been amazing.

And I wouldn't change it one bit.

And there is enough love in me for it all. I have to remember that.

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.

I was trying really hard to keep everything here training only, but life is spilling over into training lately.

This has been a really, really rough past few weeks and especially an awful few days. More so for my friends than for me, but that in and of itself is quite hard.

Yesterday I just needed to zone out and spin on my trainer, and the whir of the wheels helped me to not notice as much the taste of salty tears mixing with salty sweat. Today's 6 miles on the treadmill did the same. Some days you just need these workouts--not for any time or distance goal, but for keeping your head together goal. It wasn't the first time nor I'm sure the last that I've felt tears well up on a run or ride, and dealt with my own fears and demons by putting one foot in front of the other.

Over the past few weeks, and especially the past few days, my prayer list has gotten longer and longer, and I am finding myself wondering if God is getting sick of me always asking him to help my friends.

In between text messages, phone calls, a wake, and a funeral, I have been forced to think about a few things.

What if it was my dad, who was shoveling snow a few days before Christmas and found himself having a hard time talking to his wife, only to have emergency surgery on Christmas Eve morning, and then to find out a few days later it was stage four brain cancer?

What if it was my ten month old in Intensive Care and on morphine for almost two weeks?

What if it was me who had to jump the red eye to Denver because my brother had tried to commit suicide?

What if it was my dad who fought a courageous battle with stomach cancer and lost the fight this Saturday?

In all four cases, it wasn't. It isn't. And all I can do is thank God and pray and pray and pray as much as I can for those who it is. But I was forced to think about what it would be like if it was...if I lost my husband, my father, my brother, or my son. I see the strength that my friends have right now and as I ran today I really thought to myself, "I don't think I'm that strong."

I hope I don't have to find out.

Why do I do these things--run, swim, bike, push myself like I do? Because my legs can move, my brain is fine, my heart beats. Because I have those privledges. I have a wonderful family and friends that I can't imagine life without, but every once in a while, I have to, and it sucks the wind right out of my lungs.

So I do the only thing I can do. Be there for them as much as I can. Pray for them.

And to keep me strong for them, I have to run. So I will.

I Told You So...

...said the body to the TriSaraTops.

Had to stay close to home for my run this morning, and I don't know why, but it was so awesome. I had to SLOW MYSELF DOWN. Huh?!?!?!??!

For real. I really had to hold myself back.

Maybe it was Sweet Brooks Comeback Shirt?

Could be my new iPod nano and my new purchase of tunes, including Kanye's "Stronger," which pumps me up big time?

Could be a nice run along Lake Erie with no breeze, 37 degrees and sunny?

Man, it just CLICKED today.

I finished 8 miles in a negative split. Average pace 9:23/mile.

For me, that's like, good and stuff. That almost makes me able to keep up with ESpeed on her really really slow recovery runs!

I think the little bit of fartlek/tempo stuff I've been throwing in, combined with dropping a few more pounds, must be contributing. Coach Kara told me when I was preggo and slow about all these studies showing women about 6-12 months postpartum coming back stronger than they were before. Then I saw Paula Radcliffe won NYC this year just 10 months after giving birth to her daughter.

You know what's EXACTLY 10 MONTHS TO THE DAY AFTER JAY-Z'S ARRIVAL?

Steelhead 70.3, baby.

So clearly, that means I'm going to WIN Steelhead.

(kidding)

But I think it means that setting some lofty goals this year like I have isn't too totally crazy and insane. It's a little insane, but not quite Britney Spears insane. So that's good.

All that time last year when people were telling me to ENJOY being pregnant, stop fighting it so much, be slow and happy, and know that I would come back faster...and you know who you are...um, yeah. Go ahead and say I told you so.

It's not the first time I should have listened to others who had been there before. :)

Coca Cola Shirts and Cavaliers

So today on my tempo run (which was fabulous, by the way), I got to thinking. I've been wanting a new, hawt, sexy tri bike for a while now.

But why? I dunno. I guess because it just seems like a natural progression or something. You know...start running, do a few sprint tris on mountain bikes, get an entry-level road bike, run a marathon, do an MS 150, think maybe an Ironman's not so crazy after all, spend a few seasons getting ready for it, finish Ironman. Want a new sexy hawt tri bike.

Now that I'm realizing how much child care costs (seriously...second mortgage, anyone?) and just signing up for races in general (for real, dawgs...does Steelhead REALLY need all $200? Would they also like my soul?), I'm thinking it's just not going to happen.

But I think that is OK.

See, I really have no business going out and getting a hawt sexy tri bike. Not just because I can't afford it. Because I'm not really even cool enough to ride it.

Seriously. I have no business on one of those things. Who am I kidding?

Growing up, my parents THANKFULLY did not allow me to succumb too much to the ridonkuluss-ness of the dreaded Middle School Years. Where most girls are mean girls, and where you tried your hardest to look like everyone else. Where you buy that purple ESPRIT sweatshirt...marked up $50 because it has the word "ESPRIT" on it and at age 11 you're not even really sure what that means but you MUST. HAVE. IT. because so-and-so has it and made fun of your outfit from Sears.

I really didn't have much ESPRIT stuff. Except for one purple sweatshirt.

But one thing I did have was a Coca Cola shirt. Exhibit A:


It was red, because it had to be. And I wore it on the first day of 6th grade with my denim skirt and loafers with the laces tied in some ornate knot that I had to do because everyone else was doing it.

I loved that Coca Cola shirt. It was the one piece of clothing I had that I really allowed myself to "buy into the hype" and feel all cool and stuff and do what everyone else was doing.

And then a few years later...and even now...I look at this thing and go, HUH?

THAT'S the fugly thing that I wanted to wear? Because everyone else said so?

Hmmm.

Since when have I cared what I'm riding? Honestly. Sheesh. I am currently driving the only car I've ever owned... a '99 Chevy Cavalier (total base model--no power locks or windows) with 92,000 miles on it. The heater and AC has two levels: high and off. The cupholder blows. There's some weird stains on the seats. It came with just a RADIO. Not even a tape deck. I splurged and spent $125 on a CD player, lest I succumb to the idiocy of Cleveland radio stations. The rust spot on my trunk is covered up with an Ironman Wisconsin magnet.

It is NOT a HAWT SEXY CAR at all.

I drive it to school and sometimes my students make fun of my car. SERIOUSLY. My students, many of whom have brand new or leased cars that are wayyyyyyyyyyy cooler than mine.

THEY'RE SIXTEEN.

Last year there was an H3 in the student parking lot.

I wish I was kidding.

I am always quick to defend my car. It's been hella more reliable than many of my friends cars. I gotta give Chewy some love. (that's her name) In fact, I sort of pride myself a bit on having a car that I paid off in 2002 still, that doesn't have any bells or whistles, and that I have money to spend on other things. Like a backpacking trip to the Grand Canyon, or whitewater rafting in the New River with friends.

(Or, lately, diapers and wipes.)

So I think I'm going to embrace my bike. Love the bike. It's a 2002 Trek 1200. I bought it with no experience whatsoever, and it took me on my first MS 150 that August. It allowed me to think, "Hey...maybe that Ironman thing...maybe it's not too crazy, since I just rode 150 miles...?" And it took me to Ironman Wisconsin. And it got me to the finish line.

She's not very sexy. But she's a workhorse.

This year, I'm going to put my FP60s on this very ordinary, very entry-level, very non-hawt bike. These FP60s, which are WAYYYYYYYY cooler and hawter than my bike, or really me for that matter. And I'm going to see how far they take me. And how far my bike takes me. But really, I'm going to see how far ME takes me.

Maybe the transition area at Steelhead will remind me of my high school's parking lot. I'm used to driving the oldest car there and it doesn't affect my work performance at all.

Perhaps ol' Chewy is trying to tell me something.

I Just Fartleked

Yes, I did! And it was a good one.

Decided I would throw a little teensy bit of speed in now that things have been good for the past 6 weeks. I was able to hold my pushes in the low-8s without too much trouble. It felt good to kick it up a bit. Hopefully this will also help Operation Melt the Muffin Top, too.

I've been thinking of ways to help me feel better about going back to work. It's not that I don't want to teach; in fact, I miss that. I miss the students and I miss teaching. It's that I don't want to hand JayZ off to someone else. Ugh. I'm dreading that day. Good thing I have 1st period free in case of major waterworks.

Reasons its' not so bad, right:

--Since I only work 9 months out of the year, or 75% of the year, then it's ALMOST like I'm ALREADY working part time...right? So I'll just pretend I'm "part time." That sounds better.

--Think of all the famous moms who are back at work...Reese Witherspoon won an Oscar after having 2 kids...Paula Radcliffe kicked booty in NYC just 10 months after her baby...so surely somehow I can grade papers, right?

You get the picture. I'm gonna have to really talk myself down from the "this is the worst day ever" feelings I'm having about January 29th...

On a lighter note, we enjoyed Matt's last day off of school yesterday by taking JayZ to the pool for his FIRST! SWIM! EVER! We'll be starting sets of 100s soon. :) He wasn't quite sure at first but then he loved it! He looks a little bored here, but you'll have to take my word for it.


And this picture quite pains me, but it's so darn cute at the same time. Look at the twins! New sweatshirt courtesy of Auntie ESpeed. :) As a Big 10 fan, I have to admit I was really glad to see Florida lose. Don't worry...he'll be wearing the RIGHT COLORS on Monday!

All I Wanted For Christmas

...and then some.

What an amazingly fun first Christmas as three! It began with a few things before Christmas....

--A fun time with my 2 chicas, TriShannon and DaisyDuc as we met up in Columbus for lunch

--Lunch the next day with JayZ and my buddy, Steph, who came up from C-bus for a quick visit
--an 8 mile run at a 9:42/mile pace, followed by coffee at Caribou with my running buddies

--an awesome 2500 yard swim at the BRAND SPANKIN' NEW REC CENTER opened in the city where I teach...which means, folks, that I can buy a membership for Matt AND myself for less than just myself at the Y! Goodbye, 20 yard Y pool that is 99 degrees. (moment of silence for my Y membership)

--42 pounds lost and counting. (Sadly, I have a few more still to lose...you'd think 42 would have been enough, but Baby Z just really wanted me to pack it on.)

--Registering for the final stage of my comeback "trifecta..." the Columbus Marathon. Sub-4, here I come!

Christmas was spent with family and friends, and we had a wonderful time at home sharing our first Christmas morning with our little guy. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but that's OK. I can't wait until he gets to understand the magic that Christmas brings.

And to think, that last year at this time I was sunning and surfing in the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii...wow, what a difference a year makes.

With all the changes of the past year I feel so overwhelmed with gratitude for what I am so lucky to have...my family, my friends, and my health. As two of our friends are struggling to deal with some serious issues in their families this holiday season, it makes me realize even more how blessed and lucky I am.

I can hardly wait to see what 2008 brings.

Busy week! It's amazing how much I have going on despite not being at work.

Stopped into work to see my students today. JayZ was a trooper and let everyone oooh and ahhh over him without pooping, spitting up, or fussing. Thanks, buddy! It was good to see my students again.

Workouts have been going well, although a pesky old plantar fasciitis-y heel is bothering me slightly. I've been icing and stretching lots and lots, and sleeping with the funky sock thing, which is how I nipped it in the bud last time. Hopefully it won't bother me much longer and I caught it fast enough.

In biking news, there is no biking news.

(I know, I know. What ever happened to "working on my limiter?" Gimme a few more weeks...)

In swimming news, things are going really well! Got to drive out to Oberlin on Sunday and swim with some tri friends, including JenC, who was looking solid in the water as her usual Ironman-self always does. Even got to move up for a few sets with the fast dudes--score! Although, said fast dudes pretty much caused me to get my ass handed to me. Hey, that's a good thing, though. Keeps me motivated. I haven't been able to hit the pool as much as I've liked, so if I have any hope of staying in the fast dude lane, I'd better get there...asap!

Tuesday, JayZ and I got to have lunch again with superfast blogger Kurt! Here's proof:

And here's proof that Matt and I had way too much with hair gel:

Tomorrow, I'm driving to Columbus for a few hours for something super-fun...pics to come!

Another 7 mile run this Saturday, as I'm holding the mileage steady at 20 for a few weeks. If the heel thingy gets worse I'll be cutting that way back, but for now I think things should be OK for a nice run outside.

And finally, happy three-years-since-we-brought-you-home tomorrow, Mugsy! You're such a good Pug Man. :)

A Few Numbers

1 cozy nap with my three boys (Matt, JayZ, and Mugsy)

3 Clif Bloks (Strawberry)

16 ounces of NUUN

8 ounces of water

1 mint-chocolate GU

7 miles ran in the snow

1:09 total run time

9:57 average pace/mile

1 Trisaratops who looked like a human icicle upon arrival back home

3 giggles at Mommy covered in snow from one happy little boy

20 miles of running this week

70.3 miles will be covered at Steelhead on 8.2.08--I'm in...it's official!

1 very happy tri-mommy

1 handsome little devil

Running Roulette

I've been playing a little game I like to call "Running Roulette."

Here's how it works:

1. Feed a hungry JayZ. Watch for his eyes to start a-drifting.

2. When eyes are heavy, put JayZ on bed and change into running clothes.

3. Pick up JayZ and take him to the basement. Proceed to rock him and sing him a few songs until he's OUT.

4. Put JayZ in his swing, which is right next to the treadmill. Turn on swing and classical music.

5. Quickly lace up shoes. Grab water bottle. RUN RUN RUN START RUNNING HURRY UP

6. Run 4 or 5 miles. Continually look at JayZ to see if he is waking up. (he never, ever does--must be the music and humming of the dreadmill)

7. Stretch while facing JayZ in swing. Here's where it gets interesting...

8. Wonder if I have time for a shower.

9. Make sure monitor is on. RUN up to bathroom, stripping down on the way. Jump in shower and HURRYYYYYYYYYY and take fastest shower of your life.

10. Listen to monitor. Usually still just hear "click clack" of swing and music. If this is the case, dry off and attempt to dry hair. If you hear rustling, or even worse--crying--throw on a robe, put hair in a turban, and rush downstairs.

11. If music is still playing and no rustling is occuring, attempt to dry hair. Abort mission as soon as monitor shows signs of fussiness.

12. If you've gotten this far, you can try and get dressed. MAYBE even throw on a little makeup?

13. And finally, the ultimate--you get to eat lunch.

Most times JayZ lets me at least get to shower, and more often than not, actually dry my hair and have lunch. Provided I can get outside for my long run tomorrow, I will hit 20 miles of running this week with my little game.

Thanks, Little Man. You're the best little guy for a million reasons, and this is just one. :)

Munch Munch Munch => ajfksdlfjsdlfjsdkldsajfkds

That's the sound of me eating my words.

Remember pretty much all summer when I was FREAKING OUT about gaining so much weight, and many of you told me not to worry and stuff?

Yeah. I get it now.

Not the first time I shoulda learned my lesson and listened to those who've been there....

Anyway, now that the running is coming along (I'll hit 20 miles this week--yahoo! Then I'll hold that steady for a few weeks before beginning speedwork/hills) the weight is starting to go.

I am officially able to button both my favorite pairs of jeans--no bella band required! This is good news. I still have 6 weeks to get back into my work pants and not have them look too muffin-top-y. The size 6 stuff still isn't a go but the size 8 stuff is. Sweet.

It looks as if my marathon plans have to change, too. One of my best guy friends from like, kindergarten, just got engaged to an awesome chick on Thanksgiving. They just announced their wedding date: October 11. Chicago's marathon is the 12th. The wedding's in West Virginny.

So that's not going to work. I can't miss his wedding, nor do I want to.

Looks like I might be heading to Columbus the following week. I've heard pretty good things and have a bunch of buddies that live there, so free room and board, and only a 2 hour drive. I'm a little sad that I can't do Chi-Town though and I know I still want to do it someday, but friends are more important, you know?

Munch munch munch. I promise to listen more to others that have been there.

And some of you told me that the anticipation of going back to work and leaving my little guy is worse than the actual event, so I'm trying REALLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYY hard to listen.

Distance Girl, Revisited

Wow.

Sometimes blogs and email just go by the wayside. For like, a week.

Anyway, I had an awesome week of workouts and spending time with JayZ. He had his shots on Tuesday--which was harder for me than for him, if that's possible--and is already 14 pounds. Dare I say that he's been sleeping through the night? From what I'm reading on websites it qualifies as sleeping through the night if we get a stretch of 5 hours. For the past week, he's given us at least 4 and the past two nights we got 6.

SIX.

IT. WAS. AWESOME.

It's amazing how much better you feel with sleep. Sometimes after I feed him around 7am I bring him to bed with me to snuggle for another hour or so. I know that I don't have much longer to enjoy this time so I'm trying to take every advantage that I can. I already had a little meltdown at 4am on Saturday morning after I put him back in his crib and wondered how on earth I'm going to leave him in January.

But I'll do it somehow, I'm sure. I think the anticipation of my first day back is going to be much worse than the actual day. Thank goodness I'm not dropping him off at the sitter's--I get to pick up. But I'm sure I'll still be a crying mess 1st period, nonetheless.

JayZ seems to just know that Mommy needs to run, and he is great at letting me do just that. So is my amazing husband who does whatever he can to let me sneak outside for anything more than 4 miles when he can. I'm trying to repay the favor for him, although he hates the cold and prefers the dreadmill. Ew. Give me cold and rainy over dreadmill any day. But, I'm glad we have the 'mill and JayZ will sleep in his swing while I squeeze in a 4-miler here and there. Thanks, buddy.

I'm also getting stronger in the pool, slowly and surely. My 100s at 75% effort this week were quite pleasing. Now, my 200s are another story. Ugh. But, it will come.

One part of my equation as a triathlete is sorely missing here. I know, I know. I'll get back in the saddle. It's just not as fun, and time is at a premium so I'd rather do what's fun at the moment. Not the best way to improve your limiter, but hey, it's working for now so I'll take it.

I watched Ironman Wisconsin on TV and got so pumped up. It reminded me of everything from my Iron Summer of 2006, and all the amazing things I got to do an amazing people I got to meet. It got me thinking about what I plan to do next year. Things are going well so far so I feel like I can start to really firm up some goals and state my intentions. I'd rather reach high and fall hard than not reach at all, you know?

From 2002-2004 I did lots of short course racing--5Ks, 10Ks, sprints and olympics. It was fun and I had a great time--mostly because of who I was with. My buddy Canada Jenn and I raced almost every weekend and often placed in age group, although I was almost always a good 30 seconds behind her. Speedy girl, that CJ is. I now realize that I built up my base from these years, and that's a good thing.

So I thought I'd just want to get back into that in '08. I wouldn't have time for the long stuff. It would be fun to hammer again. Maybe I can try for age group glory again.

But a funny thing happened on the way to basework.

I don't want to do that anymore.

I want the long stuff.

Now, I realize that this doesn't make sense on paper. Why wouldn't I want to do shorter things? Won't that be easier to train for? But I can usually place in age group in small, short stuff...and I ain't even CLOSE to bringing home any hardware in a half marathon, marathon, half-ironman, or IM. Why would I want to do it?

I don't really have an answer for that. When I was running my six miles on Saturday one of my favorite running songs came on the ol' iPod...

"The sun has gone down and the moon has gone up
And long ago somebody left with the cup...

...No flowers, no flashbulbs, no trophy, no wine
He's haunted by something he can not define..."

I think the only way to explain it is that it's just more me.

So that's what I'm going to do.

Perhaps I should state my intentions.

(this is a little scary, but I'm aiming high with the realization that if you aim high you might fall hard)

My A goals include the following:

May 18th: PR in the Cleveland Half Marathon. Ideally, sub-1:50.

August: Sub-6 at Steelhead HIM.

October: Sub-4 at a marathon.

There. I said it.

Let the adventure begin.

Flabbergasted

Maybe it was because the Ironman World Championships were on TV last night.

Maybe it was because I got to play Whirlyball with my friends yesterday afternoon. (Which is amazing, by the way)

Maybe it was because I got to see all my running friends again this morning.

Maybe it's because two days ago I finally got my butt on the trainer for 40 whole minutes and lived to tell the tale.

Maybe it was because I was wearing my sweet new Brooks Hoodie aka "Comeback Shirt."

For whatever reason, my first "long" run blew me away. I can't believe it's only been 2 weeks or so since I started running again...things just seem to be clicking. I'm increasing 10% per week and supplementing with core work and yoga. Whereas two weeks ago I was only able to go about 12 minutes/mile, today...

...I ran 5 miles at an average pace of 9:56, with my last mile being 9:36. But the great thing is I didn't even know it until I was done. I just went by feel and hit my splits without checking until it was over.

Me. So. Happy.

:)

Yippee Kay-Yay

So the scale moved this week! Yahoooooooooooo

And someone lost 2 pounds! During Thanksgiving week, no less! I'd like to credit running. So good to be running again...although really slow!

This brings my grand total to just shy of 40 pounds in 8 1/2 weeks. But, there is still work to be done.

Workouts have been AWESOME and I'm so lucky that my little guy and my big guy (Matt) are allowing me to do them. Matt came home really fast after work yesterday just so that I could run outside instead of the dreadmill. It meant a lot to me. Also, Matt's Mom has been great and has watched JayZ a few times so I could hit the lap pool during the lunchtime open swim. I'm very lucky to have this kind of support around!

No biking yet. Haven't gone there. I know it's all mental, but I'm still a little afraid to put my butt on the saddle, despite it having 8 weeks to recover. Maybe this weekend I'll be brave.

Here's what things are looking like so far:

Monday: 4 mile run on dreadmill, 10:10 pace. Core work and lunges. (let's just say that core work is quite humbling when your core was ballooned to smithereens for 9 months. OWIE.)

Tuesday: 22oo yard swim with kick drills (ew), pull drills, and 12X50s. I held my 50s at a pretty consistent pace. 20 minutes of yoga. (Shout-out to "Inhale" on the Oxygen Network and my TiVO for letting me have yoga on demand.)

Wednesday: 30 minutes of yoga AM. 4 mile run outside--10:07 average pace, with my last mile (mostly into the wind) at 9:55!!!! I never thought I'd be so excited about a sub-10 mile. I was as happy as when under normal circumstances I run a sub-7 mile.

Today I'm feeling a little sore from the above so I will just most likely do a little more core work and take it easy otherwise. This Sunday I am looking forward to actually doing a run with my running buddies and then have a training seminar afterwards!

And, it's official. I am signed up for the Cleveland Half Marathon in May '08. Plunked down the ci-zash. I'm in. Not even going to attempt to set a time goal until I get closer, but I will be there. I'll be wearing a number again.

And that feels good.

And now, a dose of cuteness...a Through The Wall outfit...

What it means to put a number on

Yesterday, for the first time in a long time, I got to put a number on again. A race number. 564, to be exact.

It felt really, really good to put a number on again.

It was strange--usually for a 5K, I'm with my buddy Canada Jenn, and we are plotting how to PR. I get nervous. I have to pee. And then I have to pee again. And by then the line's inevitably too long, and I can't, and I worry. And we line up. And we go go go as fast as we can and I usually run the first mile at a pace I have no business running and I wheeze and occasionally feel like I'm going to puke. Sometimes I see a PR. Usually I don't, so then we talk about how we could have done this or that, and how we could have done better and "if I just would learn not to go out so fast "blah blah blah. And then there's a banana, and water, and if we have time, some coffee.

Yesterday, there was none of that.

For starters, there was no Canada Jenn. My friend is gone and in Peoria, Illinois. And I was a little sad about this. My friend I spent so much time racing with for so many years is gone and isn't coming back. So our weekly chat sessions will have to do.

And then, there was no thoughts of a PR. Or anything resembling fast, really. There was still the chance of wheezing and puking though. I tried to run 3 miles outside for the first time on Monday and it did NOT bode well. After a painstakingly slow 1.5 miles, I mostly shuffled home, dejected. I had really begun to doubt I'd be able to even finish this little 5K race.

But it's an important 5K race. It's for a wonderful cause and a wonderful person, whom I never got the chance to meet before she passed away of breast cancer at age 38. But my Mom did. She taught her 3-year-old daughter that year, as the little girl's mom bravely battled her cancer. She even made a special storyboard for the three year old class that goes along with the story, "There Was an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly." My Mom still uses it with her classes today. From what my Mom tells me, she was a brave and special woman. And this race honors her memory and legacy.

So what did this race mean? What does any race mean?

For many, a cause. Because she isn't around anymore to hug her son, but I can. And my Mom can still hug me. That's why I ran.

Because sometimes just lining up is exciting. Smiling, waving, and enjoying the starting line with friends. Sometimes that's what we're there for.



Sometimes we're there to push ourselves and our boundaries. For me, yesterday, that meant running the whole 5K seven weeks postpartum and feeling great. Knowing I could have gone faster and farther. Surprising myself and once again, being so proud of this body--this thing that does so much more than get me from Point A to Point B.

Yesterday I was there for those reasons, but also to run with my Mom, who I am so proud of. She pushes herself and, like me, sometimes doubts...but never, ever, ever gives up. And sometimes feels like she has to hurl at the end.

Just like me. :)

She tried to get me to go on without her, yesterday. My goal was to keep up with her and she kept feeling like she was holding me back, which was how I was afraid I'd feel. I know that feeling, and it's not fun. So there was no way I was going to leave her, no matter what. Every time she told me to "go ahead," I said NO WAY. Why? So I could finish 1 minute ahead of her? That's not what the number was about this day.

"We're in this thing together," I told her around mile 2. And she finished strong--we both did--and got to hug at the end. Which, I remembered, was part of the reason why I put the number on in the first place.

564 didn't mean what 2198 did. But in many ways, it means even more.

It means that I'm back to enjoying something that helps me grow and discover lots about myself. And being able to hug my mom at the end. And then going home and being able to snuggle with my son.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

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.

Six Week Smiles

Monday I got a smile.

A real smile.

Not an "I just pooped" smile.

And it was amazing. And I just knew it would be a good day.

I went to the Doctor's for my six week checkup. Got all checked out, and passed with flying colors. I bombarded her with questions, just so I wouldn't get "yelled" at for doing anything wrong, like I did after 4 weeks.

"Can I run?"

Yes.

"Can I swim?"

Yes.

"Can I lift weights?"

Yes.

"Can I do core work?"

YES ALREADY.

"Can I leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

Okay, maybe I didn't go THAT far.

So of course, you know what I did that night. I hit my treadmill.

I was pretty nervous. I mean, I've heard all kinds of horror stories about the first run. How bad it's going to suck. That you will piss all over yourself. I laced up my shoes which hadn't been laced for this purpose for a looooooooong time. I stood on it for an extra minute or two, and was a little afraid to push the button.

My intentions were to walk four minutes and run two at a slow pace. For 30 minutes. If I could.

Deep breath.

Beep.

I started...and then it was four minutes in. And time to run again.

So I did.

And it. was. awesome.

There was no pee. There was no suckage. It was slow, of course, but it felt so good. I felt like I was seeing an old friend again. I made it the 30 minutes with my plan, feeling GREAT.

See? I knew it would be a good day.

Lots of stretching later, I took a shower and gave the little guy a bath. A different post-workout routine, but one I'll be getting used to as my roles are shifting.

The next day, I decided to try a swim. Again, a little nervous. I hadn't been in the pool since September, and at that point, I was in a whale-like state. Would I be able to get through the workout I wanted to?

Warmup: 200 swim, 100 kick, 200 pull

4X50s with :25 rest (drill/swim)

100 kick

4X100 with :25 rest

300 CD

1500 yards

A short workout, but one with some purpose to it. What would my 100s look like? I had no idea and feared the worst.

You know what? They weren't too bad. They were, without too much effort, about 10-15 seconds off where they are when I'm in peak shape. That's a lot in swimming time, I know...but 10 seconds was less than I thought it would be. So I've got that going for me.

Which is nice.

Today, another run. I started off with 3 minutes of walking, then 3 of running. Then two of walking, and four of running.

So far, so good.

Two more of walking, and five of running.

Still good.

Two more of walking, and six of running.

Three walking to cool down.

I've never had so much fun running so slow and taking walk breaks. JayZ slept in his bouncy seat the whole time. I think he knew how much it would mean to me to get this little run in.

As I was running, I was listening to the new Foo Fighters...highly recommended, by the way. The first track particularly struck a chord.

What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?

It's amazing how much I got done this morning. I fed, I burped, I changed, I pumped, I ate, I drank, I changed, I ran, I stretched, I showered, I cleaned, I fed, I snuggled.

All before 11am.

It's possible, I think, to pull this off somehow. I'm learning as I go, and I'm sure it's not going to be easy.

But that smile. You don't even understand...I can't even begin to explain...that smile, that smile that will make me do anything to protect him. That's what it's all about now.

The rest is just icing on the cake.

So, I'm back. But I'm definitely not the same...not just physically, either, but that's painfully obvious. I've been permanently changed and am changing more every day.

But I can still run.

And I can still swim.

And now I can do those things and get a smile.

But it made sense...for a second.

So I had this theory.

The theory was, that, after consulting with several friends with newborns, formula costs an average of anywhere from $15-25/week.

I am nursing, which costs zero dollars a week.

So I think that since my knockers are saving us, let's say, $25 a week, than it's only fair to use that $100 a month and put it towards a sweet new tri bike.

Right?

I mentioned this theory to Matt, who replied by raising an eyebrow and saying, "How many bikes does one person really need?" to which I replied, "Well, that's obvious....three...one road, one mountain, and one tri...and I only have two."

Then I got a look like I had just asked for a poop sandwich for dinner.

The theory holds well, until I considered that perhaps the $25 a week my girls are saving us could probably be better spent on, oh, maybe a college fund...or putting food on the table...or paying the electric bill...

Sigh.

I thought it made perfect sense. For about five minutes.

Oh well.

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.

This Just Isn't Supposed to Happen

My heart goes out to the wife, family, and friends of Ryan Shay. This is a sad day for distance running...wow.

Thoughts and prayers to those that knew and loved him. Very sad stuff.

Thanks for the kick in the pants!

Thanks for the much-needed kick in the booty. I feel better knowing that a) my feelings are normal and b) I'll get there eventually. I know I can't rush this, and if I try I will only screw things up. My body is way smarter than my head, after all.

Speaking of which, JayZ is sleeping on my shoulder and making the CUTEST. NOISES. EVER. He'll be a pumpkin tonight and help us pass out candy. :)

Just got back from the Docs. Without giving TMI, and/or grossing out the world at large, let's just say that she was VERY excited to see that things are healing VERY well. Also, inconvenient/embarrassing/nasty things that often happen when you have certain procedures that I had are NOT happening, which is outstanding. Then I had a conversation to ask her about using the elliptical that went something like this:

TST: So I have a question for you...

DOC: Yes?

TST: See, I've been walking 2-3 miles a day the past 2 weeks....

DOC: (Making a face like I just told her I smoke crack for breakfast) WHAT? No, no no.....

TST: Huh?

DOC: 2-3 miles is WAY too much. I don't want you to have that much friction there...(yes, she said friction in regards to my bum)

TST: But...you said I could walk...?

DOC: Like, a mile or so at a leisurely pace! Not 2-3 miles and not fast!

TST: Oh. (Thinks in head that now is probably not a good time to ask about using the elliptical)

DOC: In two weeks you should be able to get back to exercising.

TST: Oh. (Thinks again that she might smack me if I ask about using the elliptical) Okay.

And so it goes. But when you tell me I can start walking, then I START, you know? Homey don't do leisurely one mile slow walks.

But I guess I will for 2 more weeks.

Oops.

The weather here is absolutely GORGEOUS--I heart NEOhio in the fall. The leaves are bright colors and it's a nice 68 degrees...no humidity, no mosquitoes...perfect for Halloween.

So I guess me and the little Pumpkin will be going for a slow walk and then passing out candy, which I am going to REALLY try hard not to eat.

Except for one fun-sized Butterfinger. 2 glorious points. MMMMMMMMM.

:)

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?!?!

The Soothing Sounds of Axl Rose

First, before I start, let me say last night was AWESOME!!!!

By "awesome," I mean JayZ slept from 11pm-2:45am!!!!!!!!!!!!

(it's the little things that make me happy)

Then he was up until 4:45 but then let me sleep with only 2 or 3 interruptions until 8:30!!!

That's my boy!

Okay, enough of that. So yesterday I totally thought I could go during his "mellow time" (usually 6-8pm) to Trader Joe's to get me some WINE (yahooooooooooooooo), Extra Virgin Olive Oil (my staple for cooking and it's hella cheap there), some Emergen-C for Matt (also cheap there), and tasty cereal and peanut butter (the bomb). Things were OK until I made it to the peanut butter, and then my little man decided to freak out on me. I was sort of embarrassed. I decided to high-tail it to the checkout aisle without looking like an even worse mother by perusing the wine aisles with a screaming baby. So, no wine for TriSaraTops yet. Sigh. Although I have had some tasteeeeee Hoegarden (yum!!!) which rocks.

I paid and sheepishly got the heck out of dodge, while JayZ continued to melt down. I got to the car and put him in, hoping that the car would mellow him out as it usually does. Not until I turned on the radio did he calm down. And who was on the radio? My boy Eddie Vedder, singing "I Am Mine," which is on my running mix.

Sigh. Running.

He was pretty calm during that, but what really lulled him to sleep was the next song: Mr. Brownstone by G N' R. WTF??????

This is also on my running playlist and gets me so pumped up! But apparently to JayZ it is a sweet little lullaby.

I guess that's what he gets for having a father that listens to nothing but Iron Maiden, Anthrax, and Pantera in his car and a Korn onesie that he proudly wears.

Anyway, listening to these songs got me soooooooooooooo excited to start running. I really really really hope I get the all clear on the 12th to exercise, as I signed up for a tri swimming clinic that meets every other week to work on my stroke and just miss running and my running buddies so darn much.

I also saw that my Iron Sis Wil has started a 23 minute 5K challenge. See, that rocks on so many levels. I have run a 23 ish minute 5K a couple of times, but not in, like YEARS. That will be a fun goal for me to try next year. It got me all pumped up. My Runner's World Guide to Running and Pregnancy says to "disregard your pace for the first three months of running."

You know me. That's gonna be hard. But I'm gonna try.

So I figure if I can start run/walking in 3 weeks, hopefully by the holidays I'll be able to do some half-hour-45 minutes of consistent running...even if it's slow. Then I can gradually introduce some speedwork and hills in the new year, and hopefully be back on track by the time the first few 5Ks roll around in February and March. Maybe by early spring I can actually see some decent times.

Or not. Or I just get to make it to the starting line of some 5Ks this early spring and I'll have to be happy with that. And you guys will have to remind me to be happy with that.

And if spring comes early I can even take my little man out in his SWEET jogging stroller!

hee hee

So anyway, obviously, all plans are subject to change depending upon what the doctor says and what my body says. But for now, I'm getting excited to get back out there again. Fall is here--my favorite season by far--the leaves are changing and everything's preparing for winter.

So thanks to Eddie and Axl for lulling JayZ to sleep and for getting me mentally prepared for my very different winter.

Last Night Was a Bad Night....

He had 3 good nights in a row...but last night he was up every 45 minutes.

Ugh.

But how can you stay mad at this face?

Seventeen Days

Seventeen days ago my world changed forever.

It has been, as I thought, harder than anything I've ever done. Anything.

From the labor...the most physically demanding and painful and joyous experience I've ever felt...to the tears from lack of sleep, to the amazement and wonder as I stare at this little being that my body created.

For several years my life involved the buildup to this thing called Ironman. It was scary. It was going to hurt. It made me doubt my very abilities from time to time. It wasn't something I could necessarily plan, but something I had to prepare for and cross my fingers and hope for the best.

In the end, it was worth every second...despite the setbacks, the sacrifices, and the occasional disappointments. Somehow I made it to the finish line, and felt so alive in the realization of what my body had just done.

I was amazed.

So far this journey is even more amazing.

I just look at him sometimes...just stare...and think, "How did my body do this?"

How did I help create something so wonderfully complex and challenging and perfect?

I look at him and see so much of Matt and myself, but also his own little drive and personality. Already. It's crazy. I wonder what he'll be and do and enjoy...and if I'll be good enough for him.

I'm utterly, completely amazed.

Still, my body is providing everything he needs. I don't have to think about this; it just does it. Just as my body helped him grow before he arrived, it continues to do so now. There is nothing I can say or do to change this. It's just what I'm supposed to do, and what I'm doing.

The nights are getting easier. I'm starting to adjust to this new life, despite the "two week shell-shock" that my friend described to me before. I'm crying a little less and trusting myself a little more. I'm learning to get by on an hour of sleep here and there...to avoid getting peed on (the joys of a little boy) and to laugh sometimes instead of cry.

He knows me. I say words and he knows me...he recognizes me. That has been the most amazing part so far. It's a feeling I can't describe in words.

I think about how far we've come in seventeen days, and how much I've already changed. I can't stop thinking about where we'll go from here.

I hope I can be everything he needs.

I hope I make him proud.

Crawling before you can walk...

...and ride...and swim...and run...

Today I had my first doctor's appointment to check some things out. I'll spare you the details as to what those things are. Let's just say they are healing well...good news! I go back in 2 weeks to check again.

And, I got the all clear to start walking today! You don't understand how FREAKING excited I am. See, I have been literally in my house for 2 weeks now. It's been nice to forcefully get me to rest (relatively speaking, of course..resting in 2 hour increments) and relax a bit. But, as stated before, I DON'T SLOW DOWN WELL, and have been feeling very antsy. However, I know what my body's just been through is worthy of recovery and recovering RIGHT, or else it will mean more time on my (sore) ass in bed.

So, to hear I could walk made me happy.

I've been replacing Pregnancy magazines with Inside Triathlon and Runner's World.

I've been able to check blogs a bit and get excited from reading other's goals and plans.

I've been excited to start my plans...which begin with walking.

It will still be 4 more weeks before I can swim and, according to my Doc, at LEAST 4 more weeks before I can run. I'm going to do all I can to try and make it 4, but if the body needs more, I guess it needs more and I can't rush it.

I can't even FATHOM sitting on my bike right now. I didn't even ASK the Doc when that will be. Arcaro the Road Bike will just have to wait a while.

It's a little ironic that I'm having this forced recovery in the beginning of what most of my tri-buddies are calling their off-season. I feel strangely like I am following that, too. Slow recovery, followed by nice easy base. Funny...for the first time this year, I don't feel like I'm missing anything...I feel like I'm right on schedule.

And I have a little JayZ man, to boot. Life can't be better.

If only he'd sleep more at night...but hey, he's only 2 weeks old so I've gotta cut him some slack. :)

Off to walk!

No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn

....or Jackson. Who will now be known as JayZ. Because he's big pimpin' and spendin' G's. Or maybe just big.

I have neither the time, brain capacity, nor energy to compose a witty paragraph post....so list format it is.

1. My friends, family, and coworkers are AMAZING, and I'm quite sure that without them I'd be a crying exhausted heap on the floor. Special props to my Mom who has been my own personal nurse on call...and maid...and coffee maker...and laundry folder...and baby rocker...etc. etc. etc.

2. Multiply that by about 57 and that's how amazing Matt has been. I thought I loved him before...this whole adventure takes that to another level entirely.

3. I sorta feel like a milk machine.

4. I've lost 28 pounds in 10 days. Can you say, water weight? Sadly, I still have quite a ways to go....but it's a start.

5. I'm getting really good at changing diapers in the dark.

6. I haven't slept more than 3 hours at a time since September 30.

7. Sometimes I'm not sure who cries more at 3am....JayZ or me.

8. Once again...Matt is amazing. Even more so at 3am when I am exhausted and not making sense and babbling.

9. JayZ is the cutest thing I've ever seen, and I can't believe that he's mine.

10. He's now 9 pounds 6 ounces, and has gained back all of his weight, so I must be doing something right.

11. Every day the world is a little more amazing to me, and every day I'm surprising myself and slowly getting the hang of this whole thing.

The hardest thing I've ever physically done...

...was to bring my little man into the world Tuesday night.

Jackson Adam Ziemnik arrived at 7:39pm. He was 9 pounds, 4 ounces. Yep, I grow 'em big. Somehow I made it through with Matt's help and avoided a C-Section, despite Jackson being in a difficult position and being such a big little man. I've never experienced something so surreal and amazing. Ever. Evereverever.

We're finally home and doing well...not sure when I'll be able to update as I'm lucky to get 10 minutes to take a shower here and there. But soon, I promise!

Thanks for all the happy thoughts over the past 10 months. We are so happy right now, and I just love him more every second.

IronMom, signing out! :)