Ten Things I (Re)Learned on My Run Today

Today’s run should have gone smooth. It had all the elements in the making — gorgeous weather, C watching kids, wearing my new Punk Rock Racing shirt, and a seemingly slow incline course. Ten miles. A little under two hours to myself. Not at all what I expected.

NOTE: Please feel free to laugh at anything mentioned below because in reality I have no one to blame but myself and looking back I am laughing now.

What really happened. Upon arriving to bike path, I noticed the port-o-potty that is always there (because I usually run in the summer and fall) hasn’t been put out yet because technically it is still winter. Problem. After two kids, I have to pee walking from the kitchen to my basement.

No problem. I will use one of the side trails I always use (sometimes even park my BOB so that it blocks the view from the road). Problem. Because it is still winter, none of the trees are grown in so you can see everything from the trail.

No worries. Somehow, I won’t have to pee once I start running. Problem. Like I said earlier, I just think I have to pee at this point in the game and I have to pee.

C (who was trying to make this easy for me) told me to run on bike path because it would be safer than the rut filled mud boggin’ roads around us. Problem. It is still winter. The bike path follows the mountain road to the ski resort. Anything in the shade is still snow/slush/ice.

It is a gorgeous day. It is the weekend. Problem. Everyone is out in packs. There is really no room to run and you have to fight for the pavement that is showing.

Decide to stop after five miles and return to the paved (although hilly) roads by my house. Problem. Don’t eat enough. Don’t drink enough water.  However, I did eat a GU before starting second five miles. It just wasn’t enough.

Decide to leave water in car because I will only be running for about fifty minutes. Problem. Hunger and thirst have clearly caused me to forget all that I should know as a seasoned runner.

So with that being said, here are ten things I (re)learned in no particular order. Not all of them have to do with the run itself. Some are just things that I noticed.

1. As C always says, any run over 45 minutes bring water. Any run over 60 minutes bring food (GU).
2. As cool as my Punk Rock Racing shirt and capri running pants are, channeling my inner Johnny Cash and wearing all black in the middle of the day when it is 60 degrees in March is NOT a good idea. Note to self, time to break out the shorts and get the Body Glide out.
3. When doing the second five miles, don’t do the route that is all downhill on the way out and all uphill on the way back, especially when it ends with a huge hill.
4. When it is above 60 degrees in my neighborhood, all men out running do not wear shirts.
5. When out running, biking, walking, I think it is good form to acknowledge person coming towards you with either a hello, wave, nod, eye contact, a smile. Blatantly acting like the person is not there (in a small town) is just rude. Trust me, there are runs (like today) where I want to just lie down on the side of the road because it is NOT fun, but I still say hi (or at least smile meekly).
6. It is okay to stop running so that you don’t hurt yourself. Supposed to do ten today. Ended up with 8.5. It is what it is. A bad run is still a run.
7. It is great to have a Garmin because when you realize the course you made isn’t long enough, you can just add more and it tells you as you go. Of course, this doesn’t matter if you stop early, but still a great thing.
8. Chocolate milk is the best damn drink for recovering. Plus, it tastes SO good. Had a big glass from Strafford Creamery. SO GOOD!
9. It is important to drink lots of water BEFORE the day of the big run. Forgot to drink my usual amount Friday and Saturday and felt like it really was noticeable today.
10. Having your three-year-old run up to the car when you get home (even though you feel like crap) and say “Momma, I missed you” definitely makes any bad run just disappear.

Today was a good reminder (especially with warm weather upon us) of things that I need to remember on long runs, but also short ones as well (since in about three more weeks ten miles will count in the short run category.

Tomorrow is a rest day, but then back out there on Tuesday.

How did everyone’s runs go this weekend? Tell me about the good, the bad, and the ugly.

If I knew Picasso I would buy myself a gray guitar and play…

Vermont is a funny weather state.  We don’t take anything for granted.  Spring has sprung with weather cresting fifty and the promise of sunshine seeping through the clouds.  My son’s trip to the farm was cancelled due to weather, but he was quite content playing with grains, cucumbers, and other farm like stuff at his school.  Today, I am sitting on my couch with a delightful cup of coffee contemplating my run.  I have run twice in the last five days, which I might add is more than I have run in the entire last year and a half.  Pregnancy and a small child had a little to do with that piece.  Now, with time on my hands, I should be racing out the door.  Only, now I have a moment to breathe since my little man is at daycare and my husband is traveling back from dropping him at daycare.  The sun is beginning to outline the trees.  The birds are taunting me and calling me a wimp for sitting on my leather sofa watching them hunt for worms in still hardened ground.  They are troopers and I am as lame as my dog who has gone back to bed for the eleventh time this morning.  But, the coffee is so good and the house so quite.  It is a little like the William Carlos Williams’ poem about the plums…

It is funny defining yourself after having a baby.  Yesterday, I felt guilty leaving my son at school so I could go to work and get my professional development portfolio done (three hours I will never get back).  Today, my husband brought him to play with his friends so we can enjoy a day of what I shall call “life before little man.”  A day where I will hopefully go for a run, eat a nice breakfast with both of my hands and at a reasonable pace, go to a movie, and maybe even run an errand without rushing through it.  I feel guilty about these things just like I do when I cut the tag off pillows and pieces of furniture even though it clearly says cut off if you are the one who bought it.  I think it is healthy to work through this guilt because the reality is my son is learning more about life at school in these social situations than he would if he spent another whole day at home with mom.  Although I am the apple of his eye, it is good for him to go and play with his friends.  If anything, it is why when I pick him up after a day away he gives me this smile that says thanks for letting me hang with my peeps, but now let’s cuddle.  

867-5309

Tommy Tutone managed to get a one hit wonder with these digits.  I myself have many a time made comments from the song towards people regarding that number.  Can I remember them right now ? No, but then again I am home with a sick kid and all my brainpower is literally being sucked into how to creatively suck the boogers out of my son’s nose without him freaking out.  The coolest connection I have to the number above is that one of our friends actually had that number when he was a single guy living in B-town.  He did tell us that on weekends they got a lot of random phone calls late in the night.  It must be like someone is at 80s night at Retronome, hears the song, and thinks damn I wonder what would happen if I did call that number.  Today, we didn’t win Powerball.  We didn’t even get two numbers in the same line so it looks like after vacation we will need to go back to work.  Who won’t need to worry about working for a while is this New Jersey D.J. who has the said number above and is auctioning it off on e-bay.  So far, the bid it at $350,000.  All I know is sleep is a precious commodity.  Why would I pay that much money to give it away with random people making dumb comments about the elusive Jenny?

It’s A Miracle I Get Anything Done At All

Yesterday was my six week doctor’s appointment.  Four weeks ago when I made the appointment I thought having it at 9 a.m. would allow for us to get in and out and on with our day.  Four weeks ago I had my husband and sister helping me get around because I was still recovering from a c-section, not driving, and probably not worrying about things like showers.  Yesterday, we started out early.  At 6:30, we began the routine of feeding, showering, dressing, etc.  Hindsight is a slap in the face if you ask me.  My husband didn’t have class until 10 a.m.  If I had been smart, or had a memory that lasted longer than three seconds out, I might have asked him to help us get ready and on the road.  Instead, I ran around like a chicken with it’s head cut off.  Now, my husband also pointed out that had I been a J instead of a P (back to the whole Myer’s Briggs thing) I would have been out the doctor and on the road hours before I even needed to be there.  I snapped back that maybe if I had been a J I wouldn’t have dealt so well with the changes in plan/hurdles that happened as we attempted to leave the house.  Change #1 — my son became hungry at 8 a.m. when I was supposed to starting the car and warming it up, as well as packing the bags (yes, I suppose I could have packed these the night before, but what if something had changed and besides my entire life has been spent packing in the wee hours of the morning before leaving for anywhere and I have done fine — no wisecracks about now I have another person to worry about).  I needed to stop and feed so the car didn’t get started until 8:15 a.m., by that time I realized I did get myself dressed in nonelastic pants (okay, they are a couple sizes larger than my usual, but they are not elastic), pack the bags, and get the munchkin dressed in one of his many Randy snow outfits.  I did not, however, do my hair.  Hurdle #1 — taking off the jacket would take away precious time from being able to possibly walk out of the house at 8:30 a.m. so I decided I would put the little monkey in the vibrating chair that was thankfully still in the bathroom and throw product in my hair.  Well, throw is what I did.  The gel that I attempted to pump out of its container landed on the wall and all over my jacket — nowhere near my hair.  Irritated, partly because I finally was able to wear one of my skinner jackets, I wiped off the goo, left the jacket on, and put more gel to put in my hair.  Next, I held my now crying son while I brushed my teeth over the sink.  Only small amounts of spray landed on the kid and me.  All and all, we were finally able to walk out of the house at 8:40ish so that we were only fifteen or twenty minutes late for the appointment.  Thank goodness, people think the little man is so cute and say things like “Oh, we understand” when something like that happens.  We survived the rest of the day in one piece (managing to even get a bagel since we had forgotten to eat breakfast, a birthday present for a dinner we are attending tomorrow evening [we are bringing the whine since it is during my son's meltdown time -- we are either very brave or very stupid -- I'll let you know later], and go to two banks [okay one was a drive-through]).  Our afternoon was much quieter, as we spent time on the couch eating way too many sugar cookies and staring off into the distant waiting for the coffee drink my husband had promised to bring home.  Now, it is 7:40 the next morning and we have been up since 4ish (I no longer count the ten minutes here and there I doze off next to my son on the couch as actual sleep time) because we have been hungry, pooing, and just downright pissed at the world at times.  Truthfully, I think my son is just getting himself ready as my husband says we are leaving the house by 9 a.m. today to do errands before the snow arrives.  Meanwhile, I’m thinking closer to 10:30 — if at all.

What I’ve Been Reduced To…

I’m not a t.v. watcher.  Well, I should clarify.  Growing up and until I met my husband, I watched television periodically, but nothing that was consistent or that I would admit to in public.  Now, we have a series of shows we either watch while home or DVR when we aren’t.  I enjoy the shows and I am okay admitting to being a night time t.v. watcher.  Up until this week, I was proud to say that I very rarely watch t.v. during the day.  The only t.v. I remember watching any time recently was sports on Sunday.  Sadly, I now actually know football players names, stats, and how the game is played.  Even on my six weeks of bed rest the only t.v. I watched during the day (and I can count it on one hand) was DVRed shows that my husband doesn’t enjoy as much as me (Pushing Daisies – so sad it is being cancelled).  This week as my son continued to not want to sleep away from me during morning and afternoon hours I broke down.  For weeks, I had tried to read magazines or even books while he nursed and slept, but somehow they kept waking him up.  I have typed too many emails with many typos and missing capitals one handed that I fear my pregnancy induced carpel tunnel syndrome will return.  So, the other day as my husband went off to work he left the television on with the morning news.  This started innocently enough.  The news is productive in a weird way.  I would know what was happening in my region and maybe even the world.  However, as the hour turned to seven I found myself watching these overly perky showered and dressed in real clothes people talk about the best holiday gifts on something called The Early Show.  It was early.  I hadn’t started shopping yet.  Watching it seemed fitting.  I made it through the entire two hours only to find myself staring at Rachel Ray and listening to her Brenda Vacarro voice.  My dad loves Rachel Ray.  I felt maybe I should see what she was all about.  Plus, L.L. Cool J was on.  He’s an attractive guy and well someone I grew up with so I mean I had to watch it.  Next, these obnoxiously strange people called The Doctors started talking about this family who had seven children (plus one on the way) and four of the children had autism.  It was like staring at an accident when you are driving on the highway.  Luckily, it stopped there.  I broke myself away knowing that I had done the unthinkable — watched daytime television.  Plus, as the hour turned to four, and my son became a little demanding with eating and wanting to be near, I found Ellen on the screen giving out presents in her twelve days of giving and Dr. Phil talking about obsessions (I mean I do have a problem with pens — I thought it might help).  Now, for the last three days my daily routine has revolved around watching these shows.  What started as an innocent “oh my husband left the t.v. on” has turned into “hey, give me the remotes before you leave.”  I do actually own a terry clothe robe.  My hair is getting long since I can’t seem to coordinate hair appointments so I am looking forward to starting to use the pink foam curlers.  And, I’m pretty sure the Shaws down the street sells Virginia Slims cigarettes (kidding — I would never smoke).  Not that I would really do any of those things, but I fear I am close to wearing track suits or worse unflattering sweatpants.  Tomorrow is Saturday so I can quit my daytime dilemma since none of the shows are on, but I fear what Monday brings.  Oh, what not to worry.  My day will be booked as I need to grocery shop for ingredients so I can whip up the ultimate shepherd’s pie that I saw on Rachel Ray.