May 31, 2012 § 10 Comments
This morning when I rolled out of bed my first thought was coffee.
When I came downstairs, groggy still, I auto piloted through the making of a new carafe.
As is my ritual, the next thought was breakfast.
Usually I’d go for my Greek yogurt concoction, or a measured bowl of cereal, maybe some Ezekiel and peanut butter. I had to remind myself of the smoothie challenge I began just yesterday.
A cup of kale and banana and berries was not what I wanted.
It got me thinking about habits; good habits, bad habits, auto pilot habits, and make life easier habits.
When the coffee was ready I poured it into my sunny yellow cup and added skim milk. Then I waited, taking a few minutes to think about the challenge and why I was doing it.
I took yesterday’s second kale portion out of the fridge and gave it a good whirl with a spoon.
Having just drunk it down I can honestly say that it was good. I feel satisfied and full despite the fact that there was no chewing involved.
Habits are hard to adjust. They take thought and work and in the case of yesterday’s trip to Target I was able to avoid the toy buying habit, but fell victim to the children’s pleas for checkout candy (I caved and I can admit it). Rome was not built in a day.
One habit I am not ready to break is my fairly regular visit to Lululemon.
This week’s upload showcased a whole lot of dots. From what I’ve seen, I’m not a fan, so the girls and I will visit the store today to check them out in person.
Of course, I will let you know what I think.
What habits are you working to change? What are some of your rituals that you do on autopilot and take concentration to do differently?
April 5, 2012 § 3 Comments
Brian forgot that he had scheduled Wednesday to work at home. As difficult as it is to keep the kids quiet and away from him when he’s here during the week, there is a little bitty silver lining; he doesn’t leave and I get to run.
Those kind of surprises are the best. Within minutes of telling me his plans I’d gathered my gear and run out of the door half-dressed. I finished getting ready in the driveway, tying up my shoes and situating my Yurbuds.
I didn’t wear the Garmin, which had been diligently strapped to my arm for all those months of training. Looking down at my wrist I was reminded of how differently it felt to not be consumed with distance or speed or time.
Still, I knew I’d run six miles, since I’d chosen the loop I like the most.
Since the race, the weather in Raleigh has shifted and the cold running gear has been rotated in the closet. The long sleeve Swiftly’s are now folded at the bottom of the tee pile and the shorts and short sleeves are peeking out of theirs (in not so neatly folded stacks).
I chose to wear my old Oiselle Run tee yesterday (that I love so much) despite it’s teeny bleach marks. I learned the hard way not to hold and spray Clorox Clean-Up too closely while still in my running clothes. I must have felt inspired after that run last year and my kitchen cleaning frenzy is forever evident on my very favorite shirt.
I had been worried that I’d lost the love for the run.
I am silly!
It was there, we just needed some time apart. Absence and the heart growing fonder, et al.
At 10:00 today I’m heading out again. I think I’ll wear my other Oiselle that says, “13.1 Half the Distance, Twice the Fun,” with my blurred gray Speed shorts. I will lace up the Newton’s tighter at the ankles than I did my Mizunos (explanation to come with my shoe review), Glide up, grab my phone and glasses and go.
How excited am I?
It’s just barely contained.
March 7, 2012 § 6 Comments
Wonderful Wednesday began with a glass of lemon water while listening to Pete’s Sumatra brewing in the machine. I’d forgotten that I’d planned to drink a smoothie for breakfast, so I measured out exactly one cup of Special K and another cup of milk (skim, of course).
After a disastrous attempt to get my girls to match their skirts to their shirts to their socks, I gave up and they got in the car looking like red-eyed rag-a–muffins. I dropped them off and headed home for a fairly quick three-mile run.
Much like my girls and their pre-school fashion drama, I’ve been kvetching a little about my own race day outfit. The CW-X pants are out, my beloved Dash tights have gotten a little too roomy in the legs and I must resist the urge to wear shorts with my “how I love thee” compression socks. The socks would be wonderful, but shorts would leave me with the seriously chafed thighs; a horrendous and rashy mess. I tried my Lululemon Inspire crops today, but they slide down too much. I may prefer a low waisted jean, but when it comes to my running pants the higher the better!
This weekend I have scheduled a call with my first marathoning hero and second Scibelli sister, Sandra. We are going to go over the list of things I need to take on race day and I’ve written out my array of questions, for which I need some help to answer.
For example, there are different theories about how one should pace their race. Some people feel you start slowly no matter what and speed up when the mileage gets higher. I tried this in training, but found that I was so tired later my overall speed was really terrible.
I also attempted a long run where I did a form of speed work; would run comfortably for a bit and then speed up for a certain distance before slowing down again. This seemed to leave me feeling pretty good and I was happy with my time, but it may not be the best strategy.
With twelve days to go I don’t have much more to do.
It’s a nice feeling to just have to focus on the day-to-day tasks, relax a bit, sleep more, and stay committed to eating clean.
Now I know why so many people told me to enjoy the taper. It’s really quite nice.
February 25, 2012 § 9 Comments
Yesterday, Mother Nature played a trick by sending temperatures soaring near eighty with a high and hard humidity. This on a late February Winter day! My scheduled five-mile run was cut short when my panting and sweating evoked a pained and attitudinal me. I like running in the heat about as much as I enjoy Bikram, which I’ve suffered through twice. I know that people love it, but I am bothered that it’s called yoga when it doesn’t stand for anything that my yoga means to me. Both times I went, I left convinced that it’s really a form of torture that should be saved as punishment for the very worst of the human race.
Having just returned from an absolutely frigid yet sunny and bright six miles, I am reminded of why I love Winter running. When the air is cold and you breathe it in it fills and expands the lungs better than anything else can. The sweat that is produced by the movement of the body doesn’t drip into your eyes or fog up your glasses. It evaporates more quickly and the salt works as a heating element, protecting places like a forehead or a neck from the cold. Extremities, mine which are always more hot than the rest of me, don’t mind the sting of the air. As long as a person is dressed properly, running in the cold is about as good as it gets.
As I rounded the final street corner before heading home I noticed three men in hooded sweatshirts walking up ahead of me. I had a choice, either cut across the grass to avoid them or shoot by and hope their eyes wouldn’t become fixed on my rear end as it raced by. I reminded myself that I’m a tough chick who doesn’t need to be intimidated by the hooded backs of strange men sauntering along the road. I pulled my long sleeve Swiftly down tight around my hips and cruised past them on the right.
Once back at the computer, with iCal pulled up, I counted the twenty-two squares until death or glory.
It’s time to figure some things out and attend to the calendar.
1. I must make an appointment for Katniss nails. I don’t know if I should schedule one for my toes to be worked on too, but it may be a good idea should I decide to have a massage after the race. I can only imagine the horror of pulling off my socks after 26.2 and asking some poor soul to rub my soles. Once upon a time I had pretty feet, but all of the running has made it necessary for my toe nails to be cut much too short to avoid any chance of them falling right off. Calluses and bits of toughness have replaced any softness; the price one pays for hours of stomping pavement, often without a good covering of Aquaphor first (sometimes I’m just too busy).
2. The hope that the CW-X pants would be my race go-to’s has been shattered. I don’t love them, I’ve decided. As sad as it makes me to give something a bad review, I’ve been spoiled by Luxtreme and have a nagging itch to head to Lululemon for new race day pants. This is ridiculous as I don’t need another pair of pants. My Dash tights have brought me this far and in a way I do feel a loyalty to them. A loyalty to my pants? Yes, an actual and real loyalty.
3. I’ve got to place an order for more GU. I must not forget!
4. An issue, of sorts, is where to carry my phone. At the beginning of training I was an iTouch arm band listener, but the twisting of the band to adjust my music became a time issue and I’d more often than not mess it up and have to slow down to fix the thing. Since Christmas, my iPhone has lived happily in the front pocket of the vest or jacket choice for the day. This leads to the question, what will race day weather be like and how will that affect the place I stash my phone? I can hope for weather like this morning, and in that case I’d wear my vest or even my LLL Essential Jacket (which I am loyal to like my pants). If the weather is warm I could still wear my vest with a short run swiftly and probably be alright. My Fuel Belt doesn’t have room for my phone, which is crazy I think. I may have to look into an extra waist belt, but I’d really love to stay away from any more gear purchases if it can be managed.
4. My hair is being colored on the twelfth. I’m not actually coloring my hair for the race, because that would be nuts. I’m pretty “light” already and have relegated hair coloring to only twice a year. Any more than that becomes too time consuming and I honestly don’t care all that much. I pretty much got talked into another coloring by the girl that I saw for my last cut. Once you get hair girls talking about color, their enthusiasm sucks me right in. I guess in a way I deserve a little pampering; a little gift to myself for all this hard work that’s been put toward the cause? I really want a big red streak, but I’ll probably go for what we talked about; a bunch of bleachy highlight like Grace with some strawberry thrown in for Soph.
The rest of the planning will have to wait until it’s closer, because it concerns the other people in my life.
My Peach has decided to spend the night so that I can leave early in the morning and she can bring the girls later to meet me at pit stops along the way. I told the littles that they will have to wave and shout with all their might, “Run, Mom, Run!” I’m unsure if they will be able to grasp what I’m doing, but hope that they’ll have a memory I can explain later (when they are bigger).
I had asked Brian to drive me the morning of, because I don’t really want to be alone, but he isn’t a morning person and might be happier going later with the rest of the family. This will be up in the air until the last minute, I am sure. I might need to focus before the race anyway and fussing with my sleepy husband about his speed on the road or parking ability might not be the way to go.
Next up are twenty miles on schedule for Monday.
I’m not great at math, but I like numbers and find certain combinations of them interesting, like the date 12/02/2012 or how there are exactly five twelve-minute miles in an hour.
It hasn’t gone unnoticed that I will run twenty miles with twenty days to go.
It feels like a good sign, but fingers are (as always) tightly crossed.
February 1, 2012 § 17 Comments
I have been lamenting the fact that I’ve turned into one of those moms who pick their kids up from school in sweat pants, wet hair up in a pony bun, and Ugg boots. It’s tragic actually, much worse than moms in mommy clothes; leggings, flats, and cute tunic sweaters. At least they are put together.
The hours when the children are in the care of their teachers are spent running. Once back home, there’s only time to shower quickly and throw on something before racing out the door again to return to the germ factory known as The Three’s Room.
Maybe it would be better to pick them up in my gear? I do love my gear, but I like being clean much more. Not to mention it’s a health issue, as wet running pants (no matter how wicky) are not good for girlie parts.
Here are some of my recent favorites: