Why I Don't Wear Gym Clothes To School

I'm jobless.  Well, not exactly, I'm raising my boys, blah, blah, blah..(which if I were a paid nanny, I'd totally be fired for being lazy).  I coast at my "job."  The first thing I think of is "how can I get coffee into me faster" and then I think "I wish I could go for a run right now all alone without having to do anything for anyone else."  And then, even though I LOVE my kids immensely, I'm always plotting ways to get away from them or to get them to take naps or go to bed.  It's like a habit now, an artful balance between keeping everyone going with the least amount of work required.  Having relatively low standards is helpful.  I can go to bed with dishes in the sink...and on the dining room table.

Honestly, I know I'm amazingly privileged.  How many people wish they didn't have to work and could spend time doing the things they love, playing with their kids or doing nothing at all but surf the web?  Everyone.  Well, for a few years, I get to do that.  The price?  Being the official First Responder to 3am bedwetting and my toddler's "The Toy".  Done.  Don't get me wrong - I ADORE witnessing my youngest's exponential learning curve and being read to for the first time by my older boy.  I love the soccer games and playgrounds and easter egg hunts and rock skipping and team photos and piano practice and cuddling and all those delicious experiences mothers enjoy.  But I also love the open schedule that having 1 in Kindergarten and 1 who naps allows.  Could I better use my time? Absolutely!  But then I might miss out on this precious time to do nothing in the middle of the day - when no one is watching or waiting; kind of like at college. I know it won't be forever...just when they are young.  Supposed to graduate sometime, right?

Like when my eldest was 4, I went back to work.   I baked in a cupcake shop, waking up at absurd hours so I could be home by 1 to pick him up from preschool and enjoy the day with him.  I'd like to say it was hard to get back into the demand of work & home, but it wasn't.  I was ready to be productive again- and have an excuse not to spend 12 hours a day with my boy (it's true! absence DOES make the heart grow fonder).  But then after several months, what I thought was impossible, happened: I got pregnant again.  Not only did my energy drop from 60 to nothing in 3 seconds, but I threw up so much, it made me stupid.  I'm pretty sure my ability to count without using my fingers got flushed down the bakery toilet. I was fired for being an inept employee.  Totally. Deserved.  (but the 1st trimester's fault).  And then the Stay-at-Home-Mom cycle re-started, which is super cool.

But I know it's an indulgence I can enjoy for just another wee chunk of time.  What do they say about if you want something done, give it to a busy woman?  Yeah, don't give it to me.  It's not going to happen.  If I'm not on a run at the Y, them I'm sitting in my stinky clothes checking my facebook page (friend of a friend's wedding photos? don't mind if I do!)  This stay-at-home mom lifestyle is a luxury my husband has sacrificed for because he knows it's good for the kids, and lord knows, HE doesn't want to spend all day with them!

What's my point?  Despite it all, I draw the line at wearing my gym clothes to my son's school because nothing flaunts Privilege like wearing a Dri-Fit tanktop and yoga pants at drop-off.  No matter how late I might be or how disheveled,  I won't let anyone see me looking like I have plenty of time in the middle of the day to go to the gym.  Why?  I'm totally embarrassed to look unproductive AND selfish... and I fear my ostentation will goad Karma into taking it all away too soon. Regardless of convenience, no one, especially working moms and dads rushing to get their child to class AND themselves to work on time, needs to go by a  lil' pony-tailed chick in a running skirt who's 'Off For a Workout with My Trainer, Emmanuel, and then Mimosas with the Ladies at Lunch'.  Of course, that's not what happens, but I want to guarantee it doesn't look like that either.  Now, if I actually had a job with non-traditional hours and I had to s-q-e-e-z-e in a quick run at 7:30 am, perhaps I'd feel justified...but I don't, so I'm not.  I'm on a sabbatical from the hard, real world.  I don't want to rub it in.

Right to the Point

What's the most efficient use of this blog space and your keen inexplicable interest in my running?

• Bullet Point Update

So, without further ado, I'd like to update my wee lil' blog by highlighting all the important info that's been missing the last few months.  'Cause, folks, I'm back.

• I not only got my team to cross the finish line in San Antonio Rock & Roll Half Marathon last November, but everyone who kept with the program hit his/her goal time.   
• Most of us have since run the 3M Half Marathon in January and the Austin Livestrong Half Marathon in February.
• I have signed myself up to become a Certified Running Coach with the Road Runners Club of America because those who can't, teach I have a mad love of coaxing people beyond their usual 3 mile run and into the delicious world of Medals-For-Everyone and sucking liquid candy at 9am. Should be certified by Mid-May.
• My "baby" is now 18 months and 'full of piss and vinegar' (as my mom would say).  That's okay, I can log all the miles I'm chasing him.  He does, however, insist on pushing me in the jogging stroller for a while after our runs and that's got to count for something. (I'll try to get a photo of that).
• My eldest is in Kindergarten and was simultaneously crushed and humbled when he realized running a 1K race was really, really hard.  It's too soon to know if he'll ever want to be my running partner.
• I am 4 months in to my One Year, One Thousand Mile Challenge with friends and have to cut this blog short to catch up to my amigos.

So, to recap my recap: 

 Blog Update

Appetite whet Kitchen clean 

Double Time: Road to San Antonio

My father was a military man..well, boy.  He lied about being 18 so he could run away from his drunk father and join the Coast Guard.   He craved order, fair discipline, and rituals like unloading the dishwasher the moment it finished its cycle.

My mother was...well, the opposite.  She was an untamed, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, wild-child who would rebel just for the sake of rebelling.

Clearly, it didn't end well.  But before their impromptu marriage fell apart, they managed to raise a daughter who sees no point in making the bed every morning, but who tries to do it because that's what you're supposed to do.

Which is exactly why, when I could not find a running group that fit my schedule, I made my own.  You see, I need the discipline of a group.  I find comfort in knowing that every Friday at 9am I must be ready to help my group tackle the next incremental step on our training schedule - a schedule that I devised.   I need the ritual of dropping my 5 year old off at Kindergarten, and zooming down to our meeting spot 20 minutes before the others arrive in order to sap the last bit of baby's on the stairs.  I love working on group communication e-mails that offer weekly tips and remind me to practice what I preach.   I crave the high that comes from looking down at my watch and reading that we've already done twice the miles than I realized because they melted away in conversation.

Otherwise, there's an awfully strong chance I would say To Hell With It and get stuck at 6 miles.   Without others counting on me, I don't push myself as hard as I should; my log book doesn't have as many miles in it (if I'm writing in it at all).  Of course, I WANT to run farther and faster, but I can't help but getting distracted by the rest of my life, including that ridiculous voice that says Go on, check Facebook one more time, maybe something fantastic popped up.  Or Oh, run tomorrow, today let's drag the kids around a new part of town on a whim despite their protests.

So, for 8 weeks now, 10-15 of us have been on the Road to San Antonio.  We're training for the November 14th Rock & Roll Half Marathon that tours the art district, several missions and of course, the Alamo.  We started at 5 miles and have worked our way up to 10 so far.  Each week, our gang varies slightly according to their schedules, but we have a strong 6 person core group on which the others depend.   They all expect me and the baby to be there, ready to talk their ears off (or as I like to think of it, distract them through the miles).  And they all apologize profusely if they've missed a run, promising to make it up the next day.

I guess we get along so well because we're have a common bond.  We all make our beds...unless, of course, no one is looking.

A break up note

Dear 6 Mile Run,

I'm over you.  I know we've been together every week for the last few months, but I moved on today...to a 7 mile run: something I haven't done in over a year and a half.  I'll be working my way up to half-marathon distance soon, because I have a group now, and they'll help me get there just like they helped me leave you behind.

I'll see you again, but just for fun, nothing serious.  You can't keep me down forever.

Sincerely,
Crumbs

What doesn't bend, breaks.

They say, your children teach you how to be a parent; that you can try to force them into your preconceived ideas on what your family should be like, but ultimately, what doesn't bend, breaks.

Even as young as 3 1/2, my 5 year-old boy has had an extraordinary ability to focus on building Lego worlds. Left alone in his room with a 500 piece set, he can assemble the entire thing without a lick of help. This awesomely peaceful time recharges all of us. However, despite his love of long, solitary hours of building, he needs to know I'm still keeping an eye on him....otherwise he launches into brutal, piece-by-piece tutorials that painstakingly teach me how he built his vehicles. When he's caught me ignoring him for too long, he shows no mercy and milks my mommy-guilt like a newborn. Glance away for a millisecond? He starts over.

As a baby/toddler, he could only fall asleep on the move; and the louder the environment, the better. We could (and were motivated) to tote him to parties, to the theater, to restaurants and The Nap Master would sleep....until, of course, we were at home, at night.

This boy has taught me how to be the parent I am. Feel a "class" is about to start? I now know to bathe him in my undivided attention while changing the topic. Won't admit to being tired? There's "a quick errand" in the car we need to run. Doesn't get hurt despite how bad the spill seems? Sure you can climb on the outside of the tube-slide.

How different would life be if my kids had been born in reverse order?

My 5 month old baby refuses to sleep in the car and in a stroller, nor will he doze off if there is any noise or light. Yikes! BUT...he sleeps through the night*. He won't let me nurse him to sleep in front of the TV or con him into a nap by circling the block a few times. Nope. He forces me to take him to my room, and lay him down in dark silence. Then, he'll see me in the morning. Had he been my first child, I would have probably had our family on a strict schedule from the beginning. Then my other one would have been born into an organized household and adapted to it, because that's just how he is. We'd all be well-rested, perky, with bluebirds landing upon our shoulders as our four-part harmonies clear the clouds from the skies.

Then, of course, I never would have learned to love running.

I wouldn't have so desperately strapped him into a stroller and hit the road in attempt to get him to sleep. Had I not already experience the joy that comes after the first 6 sucky weeks of getting back into shape, I wouldn't have gotten my butt out the door a second time because this baby HATES the stroller. My parenting arsenal wouldn't have included "attitude adjustment" runs - the kind that inspired my boy to say (when he was old enough to form his own thoughts):"Mommy, you're nicer after you run." I wouldn't have met my best friend Kelly during marathon training, or seen the sun rise from the Biscayne Bridge, or eaten at Amy's Ice Cream 3 days in a row without guilt. I wouldn't have found that cool stream my boy and I skim rocks in. I wouldn't have traded in wine for my new favorite drug: runner's high. (Okay, maybe "supplemented" would have been more appropriate).

How different would it have been? Well, my first-born inadvertently made me a runner, and being a runner makes me a better mom to my kids. So, I guess all those sleepless nights were worth it. It's not like I could sing well enough to harmonize with the family anyway.

*If you don't count all these sick days recently!

This Evening's Spectacle

This evening's spectacle, down a quiet little neighborhood street:

My 4-year-old boy riding a WAY-TOO-BIG bike recovered from a dumpster whose training wheels screeched like fingernails down a chalkboard; all the while he was growling screaming out car engine sounds and pretending to get blown-out tires.

Next to him: me and my 23 week pregnant belly slogging* along soaked in sweat, chanting "Go Lightning McQueen Go!" or "Peet Stop"** in a really bad Italian accent or "Bring on the confetti!"***

Talk about a circus!

*runningfor3's fabulous term for slow jogging

** Guido anyone?

***Chick...and yes, thanks for asking: We HAVE seen the movie Cars 1084 times.

18 weeks

18 weeks 4 days

I had my monthly visit with the midwife this morning and was a little bummed to find out I've gained 6 pounds in the last 4 weeks.  I thought I was being so good - really aiming for 1lb per week as directed.  Apparently, my home scale is a little more lenient than that of the midwife.

However, considering I was so sick the first 3 months and gained next to nothing, 6 lbs total isn't so bad.  My midwife put it into perspective, too.  She measured me at 2 weeks larger than I should be, which means the baby has grown a lot this month.  

Looking down at her chart, she said, "Ooh, your first was 8lbs 3oz!  Oh you'll have no trouble with a 9 pounder!"  Yikes!  Not really what I want to hear! :)

Today's Run

Another cool late-morning meant another great run.  I didn't have much time, so I was only out for 30 minutes or so and a quarter mile less than 3 miles.  I started really slow, taking walk breaks every 4 minutes, but 15 minutes into it, I didn't want to stop.  My pace picked up to a steady 9:50 minute mile (2 minutes faster than my "normal pregnancy" pace) and I'm sure I could have done a couple more if I had time.  

18 week run

18 weeks pregnant

It was 66 degrees this morning and I decided: screw the gym, I'm running outside!  It's been a little while since I've actually run off the treadmill, so I was a little worried how my body would handle it.  I wrapped a belly belt around my hips (more details later) and hit the trail.  I took it easy, running 4:1's, finishing 4 miles in 48 minutes.  Looks like that's my pace now, which is fine. 

Delicious.  Now if I can just do something about the non-stop armpit sweating, I'd really enjoy this trimester. :)

Rescued again!

14 weeks 6 days pregnant

So, I've got this mysterious green phlegmy illness that only seems to bother me at night and in the morning.  I've been pretty high functioning this week, until it was time to take my son to preschool.  Blah.  That's all I felt.  And once I dropped him off, the numbness morphed into apathy and then self-pity.  That's when I feel paralyzed; unable to accomplish anything...not even unload the dishwasher.  I could only look at the clock and watch the time I had before picking my boy up just vanish.  After 2 1/2 hours of wandering the house and snooping at old friend's holiday pictures on Facebook - and only having 1 hour left - I forced myself to put on my running clothes and shoes.  I didn't quite have motivation or a plan, but at least I was dressed.

I hoped in my car, and decided to find a place to run.  I didn't want any hills, but all the tracks are at schools (thus closed during school hours).  So, I figured I'd head down to the YMCA, where I could fit in 35 minutes of treadmill time.  Blah.

But, I forced myself there, and I forced myself onto the treadmill for just 5 minutes.  When 5 minutes was up, I promised myself just 5 minutes more.  By then, I felt good and was eager to keep going - even disappointed went he time was up.

Running broke me from the self-loathing phase and paralysis it causes.  I'm so glad I forced myself to move.  

14 weeks

14 weeks pregnant


Wahoo! 2nd Trimester! Feeling a bit more secure about the baby's well-being, and my appetite is back!

And I mean BACK.
Breakfast? No problem.
Mid-morning Snack? Sure!
Lunch? Just say when.
Another snack? Why not!
Dinner? Dessert? Count me in.

You know what else is back? My pre-pregnancy weight...plus one or two or three. Not that I don't think weight gain isn't part of the process, but (sick as this may sound) I did enjoy" the "lightness" of food-aversion.

Next topic:

As our kids started to play near each other at a park, a pregnant woman saw me holding my belly and said that we must be around the same week. Ah...I thought - this is going to be embarrassing. I'm 14 weeks, I said, and you? 22, she replied.
Yes, I feel huge.

It's a bummer really. I thought I really worked my abs to get them back to pre-first-born, but apparently, it was all a facade. My stomach said - RELEASE THE TENSION - and every bite of food that goes into my mouth pushes my belly out farther. I guess it's fun, though. Fun to jog around with my gut sticking out of my "Beer Run" dri-fit shirt when I run.

Anyway - this week's workouts so far:

Sunday: short bike ride

Monday: 30 minutes elliptical, 15 min weights/arms, 3 sets of: 20 wall ball, 20lb lift thingy-whose-name-I-have-no-idea.

Tuesday: 3 miles, in a not-very-impressive 12 minute miles.

Soreness: 8 out of 10

By the way....this is what I feel like. (click on image for credit)

Spontaneous Jog

Got in a brisk walk today on a rolling trail.  I had my running shoes on, but that's the only preparation I had made.  I didn't suspect I'd feel good enough to throw some jogging in there.  

Dear lord, I miss being flat for the sake of spontaneous runs.

Anyhow - 3.5 miles (1.5 walking, 2 miles jogging) = 50 minutes.  Not exactly speedy, but it felt good.

This runner is back!

Whew! I've taken a long "holiday" from running. The first couple months of pregnancy just wiped me out!!! BUT - I'm back. It started last Sunday at the Capital 10K in downtown Austin. It's a HUGE event, so I was certain that I wouldn't be last in...and if I needed to walk, I'd be just fine.
My 4 year old boy and I participated - and he was certainly more excited than I was! I hadn't run 6 miles since the first week of January, so I was certainly nervous.
It was PACKED, so there was lots of walking. No problem! My boy wanted to run, too! And pick flowers. And collect rocks and drink at every water station. 1:29:00 My record for longest 10k. That's okay. We had a blast - and I shouldn't have entered a race that long after not running anyhow!




I've been out running twice since then. My pace is SLOW, but I can't blame it all on the wee weed growing in me. Lack of milage is MY fault. But I felt GREAT! After one day, I didn't even need to nap...and went to bed at 11:30pm!

Oh, Running - I've missed you. Thanks for letting me back into your life.

All Day Sickness strikes again!

Wednesday morning is usually my CrossFit morning, but starting Tuesday night at dinnertime, my body revolted to any idea other than laying down.  I had to skip dinner and go straight to bed at 7pm.  Not only did I sleep through my workout, I dropped my son off at preschool at 8:30am, then came back to sleep until pickup at 12:15.  I forced down some food then came back and napped 3 hours with him.  Back in bed by 9pm.

Today is better...so far.  I can stomach a little black tea.  And might get out for a little jog/walk.

I'll probably nap though.  I have to take advantage of these days off from work. :)

Evening Jog

(7 weeks)

Took an easy jog through my hilly neighborhood today.  First time in a two weeks.  

Man, I needed that.  I need to keep running.  Getting out there seems impossible, but once my feet start getting the rhythm, I'm happy.

I took it super easy, doing 3:1 intervals for just 26 minutes and 2.2 miles - just to make sure I could get out there again.  I could have gone longer, possibly quicker, but I didn't want to take a chance since it's been so long.

CrossFit on Wednesday.

Confessions of a Baker Runner

When my child was born, I discovered that I didn't have to fight in the corporate world any longer and I could do what I enjoyed: Baking (hence the pen-name). I've mostly been a black-market baker, baking and selling out of my home kitchen, but I've also worked in a cafe. I have a less-than-healthy relationship with Sugar, Flour and, most of all, Butter. As I always say: I love baking, so I've learned how to love running.

Now that I've settled into a new town, I don't have the connections I once did. Besides, baking in my rental home with an inconsistent oven is much more difficult. So, I've found a proper job in a proper kitchen.

Here's where reality has turned itself on its head. Now, it's no longer "I love baking, so I've learned to love running." Now it's, "I love running and is baking going to get in the way of this?"

Now that I'll be working out of the home for 4 days, in the wee-running-hours-of-the-morning, will I be able to keep up with my training, have enough energy for my 3 1/2 year old,...oh, and remember what my husband looks like? Do you see how crazy my priorities are?!? I'm actually trying to figure out if I'll have enough time to commute to work on foot.

I'm a cookie monster!!!

I broke up with running

I broke up with running, just like the ads say.

We saw too much of each other, day after day.

And then when I got sick, it didn't nurse me like I expected. Up until that point, running always made me feel better: my health and self-esteem. I started to resent running.

Miami spring days turned molten and soggy - running didn't make me happy anymore. The time on my watch dripped by and each step drained me. I tried the treadmill at the gym, but the halogen lights made our affair seem so contrived. I tried signing up for races to be inspired, but they came and went without sparking anything.

So I stopped. I rested. I cleansed my system. Then I watched it rain for three days. In the height of the storm, in torrential monsoon rains, I decided it was time to run again.

I am in love again.

The Motivator

Last night, my three year old was a HERO.
He was applauded and cheered for.
He inspired dozens and dozens of people to push themselves harder than they thought they could.
He motivated a 30-something athletic man to run a bit faster than he planned on.
He helped shave 3 minutes off a young woman's Personal Record.
How?
He sat patiently in his stroller as I raced an 8K.

Nothing motivates runners to pick up their pace like being passed by a stroller.


(thanks to Vancouver Dad for the photo)

iFriends

Chit-chatting on my long runs with the folks in my training group invigorates me. It takes my mind off perceived effort and makes the miles seem shorter. Often times, one decent story (say, how my friend's son has given up diapers yet isn't quite potty trained) can last a mile. And once the tears dry up after learning that the little boy just wanted access his penis "so it dodn't faw aff," I can look around and say "Whoa, we're already on Main St!"

A few months ago, I found some iFriends (to coin a phrase), for my solo running days. While searching for free stuff on iTunes, I stumbled upon a podcast called the Extra Mile. It's a bunch of runners from all over the globe that submit stories & running updates, recorded while they are running. Some are advanced, some brand new, but all have that slightly stecato speech that you get when you converse on the trail. I love it. And it trips me out when I hear a car coming, then look around to find an empty street followed by the runner announcing "Hold on, I've got to cross this intersection." Most of the episodes run around 60 minutes (pardon the pun), so I can stretch a 45 workout into an hour with less mental resistance. They accept submission from practically anyone, so if I ever figure out how to carry a recorder in my bra, you might hear my voice one day...and we can advance from being e-friends to iFriends.

Running Pains

I awoke at 5am to the sensation of a lightning bolt striking my spine. Proceeding this event, a cup of water tumbled onto the side of my pillow while my son was falling off my bed. The jolt that shot me out of bed actually ended up keeping me in there most of the day. My head's turning radius diminished to near nil and the soreness locked down half of my back.

But after icing and heating and icing and heating and rubbing and heating and stretching and heating, my legs took over. I laced up and went for an easy run hoping that would turn my evening around. As my husband saw me leave he yelled "be careful" but I know he was thinking it is okay to take a sick day, even on a running day.

And as I waddled through my neighborhood, involuntarily looking straight ahead, I began to ponder how healthy this running addiction really is. As predicted, the endorphins kicked in around 8 minutes, numbing the throbbing in my head that 8 Advil couldn't. My pounding feet weren't exactly massaging my neck, but my morphine was being released and I could finally deal with the pain the way I wanted to. It got me thinking that perhaps there is another angle to the story how runners live longer. Running doesn't just strengthen your heart and bones, or fight cancer and diabetes, or simply diffuse anger.

Running makes you more tolerant of pain.

Between the feet aches and the muscle aches, the ice packs and the ice bathes, the sunburns and sweat in the eyes, shin splints and physical therapies, the blisters and bunions, the sports tape and its removal, the nasty-tasting gels and nutrition bars, the swollen knees and throbbing IT band...running hurts. But we keep getting out there because of (among other things) the endorphins; they make it possible to do more under harder conditions.

And as we age, it's no secret that our bodies fall apart. No matter how much you workout, ingest or tuck, the aches and pains just keep coming. But I think what separates those just waiting to die and those actively creating a few more worthy memories is the ability to deal with the pain. Perhaps it's having the running drug itself, or just the confidence to know that 'you've pushed your body before so you can do it again.' Whatever it is, the need to do a few miles was more powerful than my mother's voice in my head saying "sleep it off." My neck is still stiff, but I feel good.

Filling in

My dentist had me scheduled to replace a filling yesterday. He would have to give me a localized numbing shot and refill my prescription for the big fat NSAIDs. I dropped the boy off at preschool and drove over the Key Biscayne Bridge. The day was going to suck, not only is my head going to hurt, but it'll be my 3rd day in a row without a run. And driving over my favorite training spot was just rubbing salt into the wound.

You didn't get my message? Oh, honey, the doc had to switch you to January. I'm so sorry you drove all the way out here for nothing.

Ahhh...the Gods must run, too. My shoes were in the car.