Today was National Running Day and I didn't run. I know, I know. I'm a sorry excuse for a runner. All day, my Twitter and Facebook feeds were full of "How are you spending National Running Day?" and pictures of people getting their run on. I spent the day forcing Will to sit on the potty, putting Elin in time out for hitting, and corralling Baby K.
I celebrated a day early by running hill repeats in the rain. Well, actually I ran 2.5 miles to the park then ran hill repeats then ran 2.5 miles back home - in the rain. It was pretty awesome. I had to stuff paper in my shoes to dry them out. (A downside to the newspaper industry shutting down is the loss of quality paper to dry your wet running shoes. Magazine paper does the job but it's not as effective.)
I had the privilege of running those hill repeats with a fellow running Mommy who just had her third baby. Three children to take care of, a home to run, a husband to love, and she still finds time to go running. She rocks my socks. She makes my life look like a cake walk. She's training with a friend for a 5k with a long term plan of completing a 10k and a half marathon. Less then two years ago, she couldn't even run a mile. Now, she's running hill repeats in the pouring rain. Running changed her life. That's what National Running Day is all about - no matter what day you celebrate it.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
the one where I neglect to read the race website before bragging on my blog
Last night as I was posting about my potential future as a trail runner I neglected to do one very important thing; look at the race website. I did that after the post and this is what I found:
"Up for more of a challenge? The 15k race course is brutal and will test the most seasoned trail runners. It follows the same route as the 5k for the first two miles. However, the 15k course climbs nearly 2000 feet over the first 5 miles. You will struggle to make it over several gaps and reach the race’s high point of Pinnacle Mountain. As you descend you will be rewarded with spectacular views from Bald Rock and other overlooks. More stream crossings, gnarly roots and jagged rocks will keep you on your toes as you wind your way back down the valley toward the finish."
"Up for more of a challenge? The 15k race course is brutal and will test the most seasoned trail runners. It follows the same route as the 5k for the first two miles. However, the 15k course climbs nearly 2000 feet over the first 5 miles. You will struggle to make it over several gaps and reach the race’s high point of Pinnacle Mountain. As you descend you will be rewarded with spectacular views from Bald Rock and other overlooks. More stream crossings, gnarly roots and jagged rocks will keep you on your toes as you wind your way back down the valley toward the finish."
Seriously? Gnarly roots and jagged rocks? I tweeted my dear friend Maggie and asked her if she was willing to pull my bloodied body out of a stream crossing because that's the only way I'll finish the race. And on the off chance she can't find me because I'm bruised beyond recognition my RoadID will save the day.
RoadID? What is that you might ask? Only a nifty little product that could save your life while you're getting your miles in. Where I run, I figure there are two ways that I could bite the bullet while running. One is to get hit by a car. People don't look both ways before they pull out of fast food parking lots. Apparently having a bucket of chicken in your lap limits the ability of your neck muscles. The second is dogs. I'm from the North where people put their dogs on leashes or fence them in their backyards. Here in the South, people let their dogs roam. The one dog that I'm deathly afraid of is tied down by a chain. One of these days that chain is going to snap and BAM! there goes Lauren. Thankfully, my RoadID will be able to tell whoever comes to my rescue, my name and other pertinent information.
I might have to pass on this 15k. Seth gave me a horrified look and told me "no" after I read him the race description. This from the man who just a few hours earlier was encouraging me to do the Disney Goofy Challenge (that's where you run a 1/2 marathon and then a full the next day). However, there is a 10k in December on the same trails that Maggie and I are going to be running this month. So I guess I can start my career as a terrified trail runner with the knowledge that I may get hurt but at least I don't have to remember my name or my husband's cell phone number. Thanks RoadID!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
the one where I run to escape the pee
It's been awhile. We're still potty training and dragging the Lighting McQueen potty with us wherever we go. People are still trying not to stare as he sits in the trunk and I've had to delete many a picture from Facebook because W is not wearing any pants. My mother assures me that I will look back at this time of my life and laugh. Ironically, after only a few days of staying with us she looked at me and told me she was tired of this whole "potty business". Oh Mother, you have no idea. I'm super excited about the 10+ hour trips we're embarking on this summer. That should be a blast. I think I'm going to keep track of how many states we stop to pee in.
On top of the potty training shenanigans, my daughter has decided that she CANNOT live without me. "MOMMY!" is a constant refrain heard in our household. I think if she could find a way to become surgically attached to me and her blankies she would. When she's all cute and snuggly, it is wonderful. When she's screaming and crying, (she is not a pretty crier. Another trait she inherited from her mother.) it makes me want to flee the room. She's also fresh. I tried to get a video of her in full on fresh mode so that people would see that I can't make this stuff up (because I know that's what you think. I know you think that there is no way that beautiful blond haired, blue eyed child could be anything less then perfect.) but my camera died. So now you only have my word.
Thankfully, I've been able to escape potty central and the Fresh Princess of Georgia to run. What do other people do to relieve stress? Drink? Gamble? I think I would probably be a compulsive shopper on the road to Hoardersville if I didn't run. Not only am I running but I've been happily running. Each run is a new chance to push myself a little further or an opportunity to clear my head. Heading into the summer, I have plans to trail run once a week with a dear friend. This same dear friend is single handily attempting to turn this road runner into a trail runner in time for a 15k in August. Who knows? She might even be successful.
Are you running? If not, why not? What's holding you back? Work? Children? Weight? Take a half an hour a day or every other day and walk. Get out there. It is worth it, I promise.
On top of the potty training shenanigans, my daughter has decided that she CANNOT live without me. "MOMMY!" is a constant refrain heard in our household. I think if she could find a way to become surgically attached to me and her blankies she would. When she's all cute and snuggly, it is wonderful. When she's screaming and crying, (she is not a pretty crier. Another trait she inherited from her mother.) it makes me want to flee the room. She's also fresh. I tried to get a video of her in full on fresh mode so that people would see that I can't make this stuff up (because I know that's what you think. I know you think that there is no way that beautiful blond haired, blue eyed child could be anything less then perfect.) but my camera died. So now you only have my word.
Thankfully, I've been able to escape potty central and the Fresh Princess of Georgia to run. What do other people do to relieve stress? Drink? Gamble? I think I would probably be a compulsive shopper on the road to Hoardersville if I didn't run. Not only am I running but I've been happily running. Each run is a new chance to push myself a little further or an opportunity to clear my head. Heading into the summer, I have plans to trail run once a week with a dear friend. This same dear friend is single handily attempting to turn this road runner into a trail runner in time for a 15k in August. Who knows? She might even be successful.
Are you running? If not, why not? What's holding you back? Work? Children? Weight? Take a half an hour a day or every other day and walk. Get out there. It is worth it, I promise.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
trails and parking lots
Guess who is a PR'ing machine? This girl! Last weekend I ran in the Hartwell Dam 10k and not only finished 2 minutes under my goal time, but I placed 3rd in my age division! I am now the proud owner of a mug. I've had a really good racing season so far, and am looking forward to keeping up the trend. A dear friend of mine, Maggie, has agreed to drive 45 minutes once a week so we can run trails together. I'm a little nervous. I've always been an asphalt/concrete kind of girl. Not so much into sticks, rocks, and possible wildlife sightings. However, I read an issue of Trail Runner Magazine the other day, and was convinced that running trails will help make me faster. If I don't break an ankle that is.
In other news, we're still potty training. There has been progress, but still a whole lot of pooping in the pants. He's tired of having to sit every 13 minutes, and I'm tired of fighting with him to sit every 13 minutes. I'm just trying to remember that only a few short weeks ago I was knee deep in urine soaked underwear. It's hard to keep things in perspective when you feel the end is no where in sight.
We've started taking our Lighting McQueen potty with us when we leave the house. On Sunday, after church, we went to Athens for lunch and to pick up a few things. W sat on his potty, in the trunk of the car, before we went into Panera, and then again as we were leaving. Then again in the parking lot at Academy Sports. It's a good thing that I have no shame, because otherwise I would be horrified. I'm one of those people that does crazy things with their children in public. When did that happen? When did I become one of those people?
You could tell by the looks we were receiving who had children and who didn't. Mothers and fathers of older children gave us sympathetic "been there, done that / may the force with be with you" looks, while the not yet encumbered by children couples were clearly frightened and thinking "I hope that never happens to me". I tried to concentrate on telepathically convincing W to go to the bathroom so we could pack up the sideshow and get on the road. Eventually, the timer went off and we were able to move on, but not without providing someone with a funny anecdote to share with their family and friends. That's what it has come to - making other people feel good about themselves because their kid isn't sitting on a portable potty in the trunk of a car in a store parking lot. You're welcome people, you're welcome. Glad we could help.
In other news, we're still potty training. There has been progress, but still a whole lot of pooping in the pants. He's tired of having to sit every 13 minutes, and I'm tired of fighting with him to sit every 13 minutes. I'm just trying to remember that only a few short weeks ago I was knee deep in urine soaked underwear. It's hard to keep things in perspective when you feel the end is no where in sight.
We've started taking our Lighting McQueen potty with us when we leave the house. On Sunday, after church, we went to Athens for lunch and to pick up a few things. W sat on his potty, in the trunk of the car, before we went into Panera, and then again as we were leaving. Then again in the parking lot at Academy Sports. It's a good thing that I have no shame, because otherwise I would be horrified. I'm one of those people that does crazy things with their children in public. When did that happen? When did I become one of those people?
You could tell by the looks we were receiving who had children and who didn't. Mothers and fathers of older children gave us sympathetic "been there, done that / may the force with be with you" looks, while the not yet encumbered by children couples were clearly frightened and thinking "I hope that never happens to me". I tried to concentrate on telepathically convincing W to go to the bathroom so we could pack up the sideshow and get on the road. Eventually, the timer went off and we were able to move on, but not without providing someone with a funny anecdote to share with their family and friends. That's what it has come to - making other people feel good about themselves because their kid isn't sitting on a portable potty in the trunk of a car in a store parking lot. You're welcome people, you're welcome. Glad we could help.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
just breathe
In my quest for inner Mommy peace, I have turned to yoga.
My first foray into the land of meaningful breathing came in college. My housemate and I contorted our bodies into downward facing dog and bridge pose as another one of our housemates watched and tried not to wet her pants. After I signed up for my first half marathon, I decided that I needed to cross train and started attending a weekly yoga class. It was a wonderful experience. I stretched, increased my flexibility, and attempted to find inner peace. I failed. I couldn't figure out the whole breathing thing. I couldn't breathe into my back as if it had gills. I couldn't "be in the breath". For as long as I can remember, I have always been one step ahead, never content with the here and now. Yoga is all about the existing within the moment, being aware of your breath. I couldn't seem to quiet my mind down long enough to even control my breathing, let alone allow it to control me.
After W was born, I dabbled in some video yoga; all the while ignoring the instructor's "inhale, exhale" exultation. During week 2 of potty training boot camp, I found myself online searching for a yoga studio. I needed to get out of my house for more then hour. I needed to be somewhere where I'm not a mommy; just a woman trying to be the best she can be with what she's been given. A quick Google search led to me to a local studio, about 40 minutes away. It wasn't until I found this studio that I realized how much I needed it. The classes are donation based which is helpful for my wallet and they have evening classes. I can help Seth with dinner and then head out the door while trying to calm my crying son who's not used to Mommy going somewhere without him.
I've been taking the gentle yoga class which is an hour and a half of stretching, listening to my body, and letting go. During the last class, as a thunderstorm raged outside, I found the peace I had been looking for. I finally figured out how to breathe and it really is as cool as everyone says it is.
My first foray into the land of meaningful breathing came in college. My housemate and I contorted our bodies into downward facing dog and bridge pose as another one of our housemates watched and tried not to wet her pants. After I signed up for my first half marathon, I decided that I needed to cross train and started attending a weekly yoga class. It was a wonderful experience. I stretched, increased my flexibility, and attempted to find inner peace. I failed. I couldn't figure out the whole breathing thing. I couldn't breathe into my back as if it had gills. I couldn't "be in the breath". For as long as I can remember, I have always been one step ahead, never content with the here and now. Yoga is all about the existing within the moment, being aware of your breath. I couldn't seem to quiet my mind down long enough to even control my breathing, let alone allow it to control me.
After W was born, I dabbled in some video yoga; all the while ignoring the instructor's "inhale, exhale" exultation. During week 2 of potty training boot camp, I found myself online searching for a yoga studio. I needed to get out of my house for more then hour. I needed to be somewhere where I'm not a mommy; just a woman trying to be the best she can be with what she's been given. A quick Google search led to me to a local studio, about 40 minutes away. It wasn't until I found this studio that I realized how much I needed it. The classes are donation based which is helpful for my wallet and they have evening classes. I can help Seth with dinner and then head out the door while trying to calm my crying son who's not used to Mommy going somewhere without him.
I've been taking the gentle yoga class which is an hour and a half of stretching, listening to my body, and letting go. During the last class, as a thunderstorm raged outside, I found the peace I had been looking for. I finally figured out how to breathe and it really is as cool as everyone says it is.
Monday, April 23, 2012
sticker charts and cheeseburgers
Our household is in full-on potty training mode. It's been ugly. Week 1 can basically be summarized using two words: urine and crying. Taking the advice of W's future preschool teacher (who I must admit, intimidates me a little bit. I know she won't be happy if he's not using the potty in the fall) we've ditched the pull-ups. She told me to sit him on the potty every 10 minutes and warned me that it was going to "wear me out" (said with a heavy southern accent).
For days, nothing. The only thing I did was wash load after load of wet underwear. Then I introduced a sticker chart with incentives. 5 stickers = a Mickey D's cheeseburger with fries and chocolate milk. 10 stickers = a trip to the store (in this case Fred's, the low price leader) to pick out a treat. Eureka! Stickers have been flying: 2 cheeseburgers have been eaten, and we're one sticker away from another trip to Fred's.
We still have a long way to go, but its wonderful to see some progress. Potty training and parenting in general have taught me some yucky truths about myself. I am not patient. I am baffled by a child who is teaching himself to read, but doesn't realize he's sitting in wet underwear. I am selfish. I'm tired of having my life run by a kitchen timer. However, this too shall pass. When I spent month after month exclusively pumping for both my children, I thought it would never end. It did, though, and so will this. W will not go to college wearing pull-ups (or at least that's what a mother of 4 boys from church told me) and I can look at this milestone as character building. W can gain the skill of not wetting his pants, and I can learn to be a little more patient.
I'm thinking about implementing a sticker chart for everyday life. Clean the bathroom. Sticker! Make dinner. Sticker! Washing a load of laundry and folding it. Two stickers! The possibilities are endless. Stickers for running. Stickers for being patient with my adorable 4-year old while he learns to use the potty. The incentives need to be good for that last one.
For days, nothing. The only thing I did was wash load after load of wet underwear. Then I introduced a sticker chart with incentives. 5 stickers = a Mickey D's cheeseburger with fries and chocolate milk. 10 stickers = a trip to the store (in this case Fred's, the low price leader) to pick out a treat. Eureka! Stickers have been flying: 2 cheeseburgers have been eaten, and we're one sticker away from another trip to Fred's.
We still have a long way to go, but its wonderful to see some progress. Potty training and parenting in general have taught me some yucky truths about myself. I am not patient. I am baffled by a child who is teaching himself to read, but doesn't realize he's sitting in wet underwear. I am selfish. I'm tired of having my life run by a kitchen timer. However, this too shall pass. When I spent month after month exclusively pumping for both my children, I thought it would never end. It did, though, and so will this. W will not go to college wearing pull-ups (or at least that's what a mother of 4 boys from church told me) and I can look at this milestone as character building. W can gain the skill of not wetting his pants, and I can learn to be a little more patient.
I'm thinking about implementing a sticker chart for everyday life. Clean the bathroom. Sticker! Make dinner. Sticker! Washing a load of laundry and folding it. Two stickers! The possibilities are endless. Stickers for running. Stickers for being patient with my adorable 4-year old while he learns to use the potty. The incentives need to be good for that last one.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
PR's and being shushed
My illness conundrum has been solved. Apparently I'm allergic to the state of Georgia. After three weeks of sore throats, coughs, and headaches, I started taking an allergy pill, and the healing has begun. Right in time for me to PR at a local race this past weekend. Yes, you read that right, this slow moving woman had a personal 5k best of 28:23.
The race itself was a fundraiser for a sport missions team that is planning on going to Costa Rica. It was a small race, about 50 people or so, of all varying levels of athleticism. There were a few college cross country runners (who of course lapped me on the three loop course), a few runner moms like me, and (my personal favorites) the Clydesdales. During races, especially marathons, I'm often surrounded by these men who look like they got off the couch a week before the race and decided to run. Do not let that big size fool you. These men can run and if you're not careful, they will outrun you; often with a smile on their face as they're doing it. I usually get outrun by the 70-year old man in the short running shorts too, but that's a story for another time.
I feel like my running has reached a new level. I'm consistently running faster than I've run in years. It's satisfying to see my hard work pay off. I'm excited to see how well I can do in the races I have coming up, including the Richmond marathon in November. For me, long distance running has always been about endurance, not about speed. To date, my best marathon performance was in the 2009 Charlotte Thunder Road Marathon. I finished in 4:49, without keeping track of pace or my overall time. So I'm wondering: how well could I do if I actually tried? 4:45? 4:40? It's exciting to have these new goals. It keeps my feet moving in the right direction.
After my son shushed me, (Yes, you read that right. My soon to be 4 year old son shushed me. I almost had a heart attack. I thought I was losing my hearing, and then he did it again. I was standing at the kitchen counter cutting sweet potatoes, and I had to put the knife down. Then I took a deep breath and screamed for his father because obviously the child had lost his mind and clearly needed someone to find it for him. Then as his father gave him a stern talking to, I continued cutting my sweet potatoes, muttering to myself [with a strong NY accent] "he shushed me! I can't believe he shushed me!".) running has become more and more of a necessity. I don't know what I would do if I didn't run. Shop? Eat? Nothing good, I can tell you that much, and I think my husband's wallet - and my waist line - can agree.
The race itself was a fundraiser for a sport missions team that is planning on going to Costa Rica. It was a small race, about 50 people or so, of all varying levels of athleticism. There were a few college cross country runners (who of course lapped me on the three loop course), a few runner moms like me, and (my personal favorites) the Clydesdales. During races, especially marathons, I'm often surrounded by these men who look like they got off the couch a week before the race and decided to run. Do not let that big size fool you. These men can run and if you're not careful, they will outrun you; often with a smile on their face as they're doing it. I usually get outrun by the 70-year old man in the short running shorts too, but that's a story for another time.
I feel like my running has reached a new level. I'm consistently running faster than I've run in years. It's satisfying to see my hard work pay off. I'm excited to see how well I can do in the races I have coming up, including the Richmond marathon in November. For me, long distance running has always been about endurance, not about speed. To date, my best marathon performance was in the 2009 Charlotte Thunder Road Marathon. I finished in 4:49, without keeping track of pace or my overall time. So I'm wondering: how well could I do if I actually tried? 4:45? 4:40? It's exciting to have these new goals. It keeps my feet moving in the right direction.
After my son shushed me, (Yes, you read that right. My soon to be 4 year old son shushed me. I almost had a heart attack. I thought I was losing my hearing, and then he did it again. I was standing at the kitchen counter cutting sweet potatoes, and I had to put the knife down. Then I took a deep breath and screamed for his father because obviously the child had lost his mind and clearly needed someone to find it for him. Then as his father gave him a stern talking to, I continued cutting my sweet potatoes, muttering to myself [with a strong NY accent] "he shushed me! I can't believe he shushed me!".) running has become more and more of a necessity. I don't know what I would do if I didn't run. Shop? Eat? Nothing good, I can tell you that much, and I think my husband's wallet - and my waist line - can agree.
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