Posts Tagged With: Half Marathon

Day 9: Not doing the list

Day 9Day 9: ———-

So today was supposed to be about 10 pet peeves, but I have to say that my heart is heavy given what happened yesterday in Boston. I sat at my desk working with Facebook open on one of my screens, watching as a running group I used to be a part of was calling off members as they crossed the finish line in Boston, liking the posts as they popped up. I said a little “YAY!” as I saw them start rolling in. And then I started to see the reports of an explosion, maybe two at the finish line. Confusion. My brain tried to understand, figure out what could have exploded, hoping that there were no people hurt. I will say in the rainbow and sunshine brain of mine, I imagined that the explosion was no where near people and it was some freak accident. And then I started to hear the reports of planted bombs and my heart broke. The news reports were constant. The numbers of dead and hurt rose quickly. Pictures popped up on the television and all over social media.

I think this hit me a little harder because this happened in my community, within my running family. Lace up your tennis shoes and go running anywhere and when you encounter another runner, you will be met with a raised hand, a nod of the head, a smile, some sort of “hey, I see you.” It’s just what you do. And you don’t have to be a runner to understand this camaraderie. It’s the same with boaters, bikers, Jeep owners, and more I am sure I am not even aware of. We may not know each other but we recognize we still have a relationship and it is one of the things that I love about being in the running community. We share the same heart.

So when I started to hear about the damage done by some evil person, my heart sank. As much as I wanted to understand what happened, I stayed away from the television and internet all together last night. Like I told my very crushed daughter this morning, there is no understanding evil. She too is part of this community. In less then 2 weeks, I will be running in the Music City Marathon and she will be volunteering at the finish line. She will be the one that will put my finisher’s medal around my neck. As we were looking towards that day, we were excited but that was still clouded by the pain we felt for those in Boston.

And so today, my mind and heart is with Boston. And when I run in two weeks, I run for not only my little Newton angel, I will also run for Boston. For an extended family whose beautiful, celebration filled day was stolen by evil.

~~Til the next time…

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What’s your favorite color?

I am the proud mother of girls. At the same time, I am convinced that I should have been the proud mother of boys. Why? Because as a woman, I think I have more testosterone than the average woman. I don’t like shopping. I love football, both college (Hook’em Horns!) and professional (Who Dat!). I am a little (teeny, tiny) bit competitive. Even my Words with Friends games can get a little bit stressful. I talk way too much smack, especially since I probably can’t back up most of what I’m saying. I can hang out with the boys and talk s**t and not feel the least bit out of place. I’ve had some say that they forget I’m a girl. Don’t know if that’s good or bad. 🙂 I don’t do drama and I’m more of a pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move on kinda girl. But still a girl and a mother to girls.

So yesterday, I was telling a friend of mine about an encounter with one of my daughters. She was distraught over a lost relationship with a boy that she honestly barely knew. I was puzzled but tried to be supportive. I asked her why she was so upset. Her answer??

“BECAUSE WE WERE IN LOVE!!!!!”

Tears were streaming down her face. This was a boy that she knew for less than a month. Love?!?!? Okay. Me being the type of mother that I am, I asked the following question. Remember, I think that I am being supportive. And at the same time, I am wanting to impart a life lesson. Uh huh…this is going to go well.

ME: “Well, sweetie. What was this boy’s favorite color?”

HER: “What?”

ME: “What was his favorite color?”

HER: “I don’t know” (hands thrown in the air, eyes rolling)

ME: “Well, if you didn’t know something as basic as what his favorite color was, I just don’t think it was love.”

Supportive, huh??? I went on to tell her that loving someone was a special, precious thing that developed over time as two people learned more and more about each other and it was not like someone saying they loved spicy Cheetos. Can you feel the gentleness with which I was handling the situation? Yeeeeeeeah….

Well, I was telling my friend, Kris, about this conversation as we were walking to Starbucks yesterday to which she told me that her husband didn’t have a favorite color. I looked at her puzzled and thought, the man has NO preference towards color. As a painter, this thought baffled me. She must have picked up on that because she told me to text her husband to confirm this. I shot off the text and waited. My phone buzzed to alert me that I had received a text.

“Blue”

I turned my phone towards my friend and told her that she was in trouble. Her instant and very passionate reply was “He’s lying!” She told me that the only reason he told me a color was because he felt like he should. So then I sent off another text asking if that was actually his favorite color or if he felt the need to tell me a color because I asked. He told me that his colors were blue and black, in his words “the colors of pain”. HA!! You will have to read the rest on my friends blog here. It’s funny! In a nutshell, they have been together for 23 years and for the whole time, not only did she not know what his favorite color was, she wasn’t even aware that he had one. The best part of the whole ordeal was when she had me test his knowledge of her favorite color and without hesitation he named it off….red. She was so busted!! And slightly perturbed. I on the other hand found it hysterical! She tried to blow it off as being a natural phenomenon, but every friend we passed in the halls on our way back knew the answer to that question. I also had to poke fun at her expense and remind her that the guy that I had just started dating not only got me flowers, but got me flowers in burnt orange, the color of my favorite team…cuz he was paying attention. She was not happy with that little bit of information. 😉

Now by no means am I saying that if you don’t know what your significant other’s favorite color is, you must not be in love. What I am saying is that if you don’t know the basics of what is important to the other person, I find it hard to believe that you love them. How do you know you love them when you don’t even know them?

Last thing…I know Kris and her husband and I KNOW those two love each other. I have pictures that I took of them without them knowing and you can see it all over their faces while they were talking to one another. She may not have known his favorite color, but she knows what is important to him. What makes him happy. And that’s what matters. It was just funny to rehash her reaction to the whole thing! In a public setting. If you haven’t, read her blog posting. It’s priceless!!

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Day 15=Ugh!

So, I learned a very important lesson yesterday morning. A person can not hang out with their friends late into the night the night before a long run. Whoa!

Friday night, I got together with several of my friends, some of which I hadn’t seen in a while, and met some new ones. We had a GREAT time! 9 of us at the restaurant and we were LOUD, but spent almost three hours talking and laughing. I was so glad that I went as I needed it. What I hadn’t anticipated was the aftermath on Saturday morning. So far, I have been getting to bed earlier than normal on Friday nights so that I had plenty of rest and energy for my runs on Saturday. Not this Saturday.

When my alarm rang in the morning, I felt like I wanted to die. I could’ve used 2 or 3 more hours of sleep, but I got up anyways. Law of Natural Consequences. I was going to go take whatever was coming my way because I knew I deserved it. I got to Brentwood and met up with my running group. I was feeling a little better so I thought maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I was wrong.

The first mile was okay but really hard. The next mile was a combination of running and walking and prayers for a quick death. The final two miles were more like a stroll through the park except it was Franklin Road and 19 degrees out.

I saw my running coach at about 2 miles and she asked me if I was okay. Obviously I looked as miserable as I felt. I told her that I wasn’t feeling quite like myself. She said to take it easy and not hurt myself and sent me on my way. As I was walking those last two miles, I decided that I was going to spend the next 14 Fridays being good and taking it easy. Early nights. And if I wanted to hang out with my friends, I could do it any of the other 6 nights without the fallout. Training for the half marathon certainly has its sacrifices. Ones I am glad to make. I have an end goal. That finish line at Titan’s Stadium and I AM GOING TO MAKE IT!

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