the one where I do something I never thought I would do

Meeting a goal and surpassing your expectations only causes trouble. As in, I think I'm so cool that I decided to sign up for a local 10k race. Not your run of the mill road 10k, mind you, rather a trail 10k.

A trail 10k.

In a state park.

In December. Less then a month after the marathon.

Clearly, a year of PR's has gone to my head that I fancy myself capable of navigating mixed terrain.

I've had one experience with running trails and while it went well, I'm not sure that qualifies me to race a 10k. But what the hay. Its's less then 10 minutes from my house, I get a cool shirt, and the opportunity to do something new and exciting.

As Baz Luhrmann so eloquently put it, "Do one thing everyday that scares you." Because, let's be honest, I'm a little scared.

the one where I surprise myself

I have big news. I have great news. 

I ran a half marathon this morning in 2:05:43. Let that sink in and soak for a minute. 

2:05:43. 

Not only did I beat my previous PR by 7 minutes but I met a major goal of running a half in under 2:10. 

Me! I did that! 

This year I have set PR's at every distance: 5k, 10k, and now half marathon. On November 10th, I am running my fourth marathon. Will the trend continue?

Stayed tuned.

 

the one where a lot of stuff happens

I had the kind of run on Saturday that gets me excited about running. The kind of run that makes me jump up and down and clap my hands. The kind of run that makes the early morning wake ups and long miles worth it.

"What exactly happened?" you might ask. Well, a number of things...

1. I ran my fastest 20 miles EVER. Partly because...

2. I was involved in a battle of wills with two dogs. Now, if I could only find  some wild hounds to scare the snot of me during the marathon I might be able to finish well under 5 hours. A safer and less frightening choice would be to use a pace group but that kind of takes the thrill out of it.

3. I tagged along for a few miles with two runners that I have only ever seen but have never spoken to. This was right after the dog incident and I could have wept with relief when I saw them coming up the road. They graciously allowed me to highjack their run and even invited me to run with them during the week. I'm glad my fear of feral animals didn't make a bad first impression.   

4. At about 8 miles into my run, I crashed a 5k and helped a friend set a personal record.

"My running buddy this morning! Made my PR of 29:45 for a 5k! What a blessing that Lauren crashed our race! :)" -Chanice

 Normally, I strictly adhere to running etiquette. Race crashing is a big NO NO. It's not fair to the other participants or to the race directors. In my defense, it was a small race, I didn't use any of their supplies (such as water or bananas), and I didn't cross the finish line. It wasn't my intention to crash but as I was headed against the flow of the race, I saw my friend Chanice (who is one of the many people in my life that inspires me to keep running) and I couldn't help myself. I just had to crash. So, take me to runner's jail because I have no remorse. I am guilty. Guilty, guilty, guilty. 

the one where I am thankful

I run, train, and race alone. It's not as sad and pathetic as it might sound. I enjoy the time alone, the solitude of logging those miles by myself. I use the time to rock out to my music, pray, and breathe.   

I may not share my miles with others but I certainly love to talk about them. I follow countless runners and runner groups on Facebook and Twitter. I have weekly lunches with a dear friend where we mostly talk about running with a few other topics thrown in. Being able to share your triumphs and difficulties with people who understand is priceless.

For about a year and a half, I have been blessed to be a part of an online group called Friends Who Run. There are eight of us, all girls, all runners. One of us is an accomplished runner, regularly logging high mileage even while pregnant with her second child. Another is a newcomer to our group, having recently discovered the joys of running. Virtually watching her discover who she is as a runner has been so much fun. Reading her posts and comments remind me why I fell in love with running in the first place. Some days, my heart explodes with pride. My best friend, who always claimed she was a only a walker, is now excited about buying running shoes and is already planning her first post-baby 5k.

These women are an endless source of inspiration. Over the past year, one of us has run 850 miles, broke her arm and sprained her ankle and just a few days ago ran a 4:22 marathon. How could I not be inspired by that? When I have doubts, they dispel them. When I have questions, they answer them. Knowing I'm not the only one who decided to skip a morning run and sleep in boosts my self esteem.    

I am thankful for these women. These strong, unflinching, determined women. I am so proud of everything they have accomplished. I look forward to sharing the stories of my miles with them for many years to come.    

the one where I compare myself to my carpet

This past week I've been the VIP at my own personal pity party. Anything and everything I could beat myself up for I have. Including but not limited to: 

Despite training for 2 full marathons and 2 half marathons, I still haven't lost that last ten pounds of baby love.

I have an annoying rash on my chin that the dermatologist has diagnosed as perioral dermatitis. Basically, I have a rash near my mouth. Um, yeah thanks. That's $35 I'll never get back. I could have used WebMD to figure that one out.

Everyone and their mother runs faster then I do.

The fear that I'm a terrible mother that does nothing but snap and scream at her children.

So I did what any self respecting woman with 2 young children does when she's stressed, I cleaned. I didn't just straighten up or do the dishes, I spot cleaned my carpet with my recently acquired Bissell Little Green Clean machine.

As I sprayed, scrubbed, and suctioned every little spot, mark and stain something occurred to me. My spirit, recently, has looked very much like my living room carpet. A few dark spots that are glaringly obvious and ruining the overall look. I need to do something for my attitude akin to busting out my spot cleaner for my carpet.

Otherwise, the words that come out of my mouth, my behavior and the impression I leave with others will look like this... 

end result of my angry spot cleaning carpet session

Dirty, stanky, grimy water. 

I need to let it all go. I need to let go of what type of mother I think I should be, of how fast a runner I should be. I need to let go of my petty jealously and endless need to compare myself to others. 

I need the hugs, kisses, and love from my children to be enough. I need the act of running to be enough. I need to be enough for myself. 

The alternative isn't very pretty.

the one where I taunt my midsection.

Day 1 of 7 minute abs workout was a breeze. 

Day 2 was a tiny bit painful. Seldom used muscles were a little angry with me for trying to whip them back into shape.

Day 3 was agony. Clearly, my midsection is much happier in its current flabby, post 2 babies state and wishes I would leave it alone. 

I'm onto your little game, abdominal muscles, and I'm refusing to participate. You think that if you twinge and ache with the littlest movement, including when I breathe, that I will stop the nightly torture. Well, I will not! I will make you strong again even if I have to pound you into submission to do it.

Oh by the way, no more bread for you either. Cooperate and then we'll talk.

the one where I'm crying just writing this post

Two years ago, it was a Saturday, I was scheduled to get a massage. I had even shaved my legs, and considering I was 8 1/2 months pregnant at that time, that was a pretty big deal. Instead of heading to Athens for my massage, Seth and I drove the 40 minutes to the hospital because my daughter decided she had had enough and wanted out. Nevermind she was about 6 days ahead of her scheduled C-section date or that I was supposed to have my baby shower the next day. Nevermind that my Mom wasn't scheduled to come for a few more days and we had no one to stay with Will. I should have known then that life with E would never be predictable.

My little girl is going to be 2. 2! When did that happen? Where has the time gone? When did she go from being my little strawberry to the wild-haired, funny, independent little spark plug she is now? Sometimes, I catch myself staring at her little hands and feet, willing them to stay that way forever. Every day as she learns something new or does something that makes me laugh, I realize how blessed I am to have this little girl in my life. Blessed and scared all at the same time. Scared that she won't know how intelligent, brave, and beautiful she is. Scared that she will suffer heartbreak and sorrow; wounds and scars that I won't be able to shield her from or heal for her. 

I know I can't and shouldn't protect her from everything; that all I can really do is love her fiercely, pray for her continuously, and guide her as she grows. *sigh* If I'm this emotional about her 2nd birthday, they're going to have to pick me up off the floor for her 16th.

Happy Birthday E bomb. I love you more then I can say. 

   And even though I think that whole rolling your eyes thing is cute now, it won't be in about 10 years, so please stop while you're ahead.