my girl.

The other night, on the way to bed, I asked E if she wanted to hold my hand.

"No, E do it."

She clasped her hands together, holding them in front of her, intertwining her little fingers.

Then she marched ahead into her dark room.

"C'mon Mommy c'mon."

No fear, no worries. Strong and confident.

I must be doing something right.

the one where I tell the truth

I have a confession to make. 

On Sunday, when I wrote my celebratory marathon post, I was in a bad mood. I had to force myself to write it and force myself to sound excited. I spent the whole day and most of the day before (while spending 8+ hours in a car with my two children and two very sore legs) brooding. Thinking how unfair it was that I couldn't just lay on the couch and relive my marathon glory. Desperately wanting my children to understand I couldn't search under the couch for wayward golf balls because I might never get up again. Disliking myself for believing I needed to do laundry when the laundry room is down a long, steep flight of stairs. 

Motherhood is a 24/7 job. Even when I have a legitimate reason to be lazy, I feel this overwhelming need to pick up toys, clean food up off the floor, and do laundry. Don't get me wrong, I am not a candidate for Mother of the Year. Even when my muscles don't feel like they've been dragged through a cheese grater, I struggle with impatience. It wasn't so much that I was annoyed with my family, it was more then I was annoyed with myself for not taking a break. Did the laundry need to get done the day after I ran a marathon? No, it could have waited until Monday when I could go downstairs (albeit sideways) and not wince in pain with every step. 

I had fallen prey to the ridiculous notion that I need to sacrifice myself for the sake of my family. That everyone else is more important then me. That couldn't be farther from the truth. My family needs me but they also need me to be healthy, happy, and sane. Thankfully, I woke up yesterday morning with a renewed spirit and the ability to bend. I spent time with my son picking out our favorite medals. I read stories with my daughter and 2 "adopted" daughters. I took a nap. I had a chocolate chip frappe. I looked in the mirror and exclaimed "I ran a 4:27 marathon!"  

I didn't need to fake that excitement. 

the one where I run my fastest 26.2 miles EVER

4:27:42. That's how long it took me to run my 4th marathon.

I beat my previous PR by 22 minutes.

I beat my goal time by 18 minutes and my secret, don't dare to say it out loud, goal time by 2 minutes.

waving to my kids before mile 26

I never thought it would be possible. I never thought I would be sitting here, writing a blog post about completing a marathon in under 4 and a half hours. Apparently though, it is possible, because I did it. Insane.

I also never thought it would be possible to run that fast with only 4 hours of sleep. W was up every 2 hours; coughing, sneezing, talking. At about 3 am when he told me he was hot, I realized the poor child had a fever. Of course, the medicine I brought was packed in the suitcase, which was already in the car. My amazing husband got up, put on clothes, and went to the parking garage to bring back the medicine. At 5am, he told me he had to go to the bathroom. In my sleepless stupor, I didn't pull his underwear down fast enough (he had his hands full with his blanket and Angry Bird Pig) and he peed all over the place, including my hand. That's when I lost it. I cleaned him up, laid back down and prayed (actually begged) for sleep. I was wide awake when my alarm went off.

that's what I look like after a night in a hotel with my son

A Facebook message from a dear fellow runner friend lifted my spirits and got me to the starting line. I took a deep breath and ran the FASTEST MARATHON OF MY LIFE! Totally worth getting peed on.

Hurricane Sandy

Hurricane Sandy destroyed my home. Not the physical one I live in, but the place I grew up. The island where I played with my friends, went to school, and learned to drive. Staten Island. My home.

Thankfully, my family members are safe. There was minimal property damage and only a few days without power. We're North Shoreres and only had to deal with Sandy's windy wrath. The South Shore of the island was not so lucky. Between the wind and the water, houses were loosened from their foundations. Residents were trapped in the upper floors of their homes. Cars were swept away and trees landed on streets, cars, and people. As the cleanup begins, the death toll continues to rise. People are missing and there is little hope that they will be found alive. They say a picture is worth a thousand words...  

All I can hear is heartbreak.

I can't go home. I can't help clean up. I can't hug my fellow islanders and share in their grief. In the aftermath of the storm, I felt so helpless. Suddenly, obessively following facebook and twitter for updates wasn't enough. Retweeting and reposting needs and distribution locations wasn't enough. Going to Fred's and buying a handful of toiletries, garbage bags, work gloves, and socks wasn't enough. (Although it did make me feel a little better.)

On November 10th, I am running in the Richmond Marathon. I am now officially running for Staten Island. I plan on wearing my high school cross country singlet (which surprisngly still fits. Although I will need to wear a shirt underneath. I don't need to scare anyone.) and dedicating a specific mile to the residents of my hometown. This is where you come in. If you have not already donated to Hurricane Sandy relief, I urge you to do so. Any amount would go a long way to helping not only the residents of Staten Island, but other communities in NY and NJ that were impacted by the storm.

You can donate as much or as little as you’d like…
$1 per mile = $26                                                 $10 per mile = $260
$2 per mile = $52                                                 $20 per mile = $520
$3 per mile = $78                                                 $30 per mile = $780
$4 per mile =$104                                                $40 per mile =$1040
$5 per mile = $130                                               $50 per mile = $1300

As always, the Red Cross is working tirelessly to serve the tri state area. You can donate there at redcross.org. Also, I have seen the hard work and determined spirit of Shaun King and the Hope Mob do wonderful things for the people of my city. Please follow them on twitter @hope and you may also donate to hurricane relief at their website hopemob.org.

To help the people of Staten Island, specifically, I would direct you to two charities. One is the Stephen Siller Tunnels to Tower Foundation and the other is the Carl V. Bini Memorial Fund. Both foundations were set up in memory of Staten Island firefighters lost in 9/11. Both groups are determined to help the people of Staten Island rise up in the face of trememdous loss. My facebook feed is full of status updates from Kevin Jamison, who is spearheading the recovery efforts for the Carl Bini Fund. He and his team have been working nonstop since the storm bringing supplies and essential items to displaced residents. They have been involved in cleanup in areas that are essentially destroyed. Your donation will aid them in continuing their efforts to help others.

First, thank you for reading this long and somewhat depressing post. Secondly, if you do decide to donate please let me know. I would like to carry your name with me as I run through the streets of Richmond. Lastly, please pray for Staten Island, New York City, and the New Jersey Shore. There is no question that they will rebuild, but it will be a long road, and they just need some help getting there.

the one where I cheer for my friends

Moving from New York to Georgia was one of the most stressful and scariest things I have ever done. I left my entire family, my church family, friends, my job - effectively everything that defined me as me.

I don't make friends easily. I worry about how others perceive me and tend to act stuck up or snobby when I'm really just feeling insecure and unsure about myself. Many of the friends I have are ones that I've had for years. 

Rick and Maggie Turner pulled down all my walls, plowed through all my junk, and immediately embraced me as a friend. They have been a huge source of comfort and amusement over the last few years. They are deeply in love with each other and with Christ. They are also a little bit crazy. Maggie pushes me (well, throws me) out of my running comfort zone on a constant basis. I spend most of our weekly lunches giving her dubious looks as she pitches various races she thinks I should run in. She is persuasive though, as evidenced by the addition of a 10k trail race to my schedule. Rick is just a giant teddy bear that gives great hugs and makes me laugh. If I ever needed anything, he would be one of the first people I would call.

They are currently in the process of adopting a child from Ethiopia and have been running various races to help raise money to cover costs. Most recently, they both ran the Greenville, SC Half Marathon (where Maggie PR'd!) and I was able to make a complete fool of myself while cheering them on. I've repeatedly tried to upload a video of me screaming and yelling for Rick and Maggie but my computer hates me so you'll have to trust me when I say I completely and shamelessly embarrassed myself. 

Please take a minute to visit Rick and Maggie's blog and prayerfully consider contributing. If you do, let me know and I'll take a minute to completely and shamelessly cheer for you. 

the one where I am an athletic supporter

Today was opposite day. Instead of me getting up early to run a marathon, it was my husband that set his alarm for 4:45am to tackle 26.2 miles. 

I made him pose like this..

We got to the Greenville Marathon start line with no problem. Found a parking spot nestled between the start and finish lines. Got onto the port-a-potty line before the hoards. I took the obligatory pre-race pictures...

I have to stand on my tip toes to take pictures with him

such a good runner... stretching before a race

Words cannot express how immensely proud of my husband I was today. I know how courageous you have to be to even stand at the start line of a marathon. I may or may not have teared up when the gun went off. 

I spent the morning wandering around Greenville and taking pictures of fall leaves. I cheered for friends of ours who were running in the half marathon. Eventually, after buying him a celebratory blueberry scone from the Great Harvest Bread Co., I made my way back to the finish line.  

I grabbed a spot on the curb and started cheering and continued cheering until I saw that maroon shirt and blue hat turn the corner. One look and I knew something was wrong. He was walking. Seth hates to walk while running. I took a deep breath, screamed "I love you!" as loud as I could and watched as he started to run again. 

Turns out my poor husband had vomited at mile 23. Like full on, in the gutter, liquid out the nose, vomit. Immediately, I was concerned. I read Runner's World. I know all about the dangers of dehydration and hyponatremia. Two conditions that can be fatal for endurance athletes. Only two things kept me from marching him to the nearest medic. 1. the color of his lips and face were good and 2. he was coherent.

About 15 minutes into our trip home, he threw up again. As I calmly pulled the car over and got out of the car, all I thought was "Well, I can either call 911 or get him back to the race medics." As I was trying to figure out how I was going to convince him that this was not a good situation, I handed him face wipes, a dish towel, and water to rinse his mouth out. Then I made him strip. All the wet clothes came off and dry clothes went on. Thankfully, as the dry socks went on, he began to feel better.

On the way home, we talked about the race and tried to work out what went wrong. Essentially, we concluded that, originally, he was over hydrated. Fearing that he wasn't drinking enough, he over drank and threw his body all out of whack. The vomiting and the nausea led him to become dehydrated. A double whammy. A super duper scary double whammy.

Thankfully, he seems to have recovered. Two servings of my homemade recovery drink, a blueberry scone, a nap, and a monster Subway buffalo chicken sandwich seemed to do the trick. He's appropriately tired and sore but not nauseous or dead.    

What lessons did we learn today? Trust your training. If you're carrying liquid, do not be swayed or tempted by  water stations. Trust your training. When you're vomiting on a race course and someone asks you if you need a medic, you should probably say yes. Most importantly, trust your training.          

No medal is worth a trip to the E.R.

By the way, even with the vomiting episode he still finished in 4:20. I know. You don't have to tell me. He's amazing. He's mine. Don't even think about it.

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.