Dinged

So, my new little girl, the sporty, spunky one with the sunroof? She was parked on the curb outside my office (not in the lot, because I'd gotten a stinkin' parking ticket yesterday for not having my staff permit, because I'd left it in the old car at the dealership) today and when I went out at lunch, she had a scrape alongside the driver's side, with a dent on the quarter-panel above the front tire. I noticed it first because when I looked in the side mirror, I saw nothing but sky, since it had gotten smacked out of position. Then when I got out after moving it to another 4-hour spot, I saw the damage.

The dent isn't really visible unless you're on top of it, but when you open and close the driver's side door, it creaks and rubs against the quarter-panel, so there is enough damage that it got thrown out of whack. The black molding around the wheel well is scraped to high heaven, and there is a 16-inch line scraped in the back-seat door, above the side molding. That might rub out, but still.

Wahh. I know it's not the end of the world, and I know I'm lucky to have had the chance to get my new car. But, still. Phooey. and lots of other bad, bad, bad words. I just barely filled her tank for the first time this morning, for criminy's sake. And the fool who did it didn't have the common decency to leave a note. I did go across the street to where a local PD officer was sitting in the bank parking lot watching for speeders and have him write out a report for the insurance company, but pretty much he said there wasn't a lot more he could do.

I'll have to call the insurance company in the morning and get the whole pain in the arse routine started, with taking it in to the shop, getting a rental, paying the deductible, wah, wah, wah. This hacks me off because the whole reason I got a new car was so I didn't have to mess with it being in the shop if something went wrong. Honestly, i could leave it, except for the rubbing on the door, and the fact that it's a brand-new car and it makes me wince every time I see it. If I'd done something stupid like run into a parking post (not that I did that with my first car...) or hit a guardrail on the one icy day a year we have here (Hub did that in my old Dodge Stratus), or even back into a car while parallel parking (ahem, Skatemobile did that a few times...), I'd be OK with that. But this just fries my bacon.

As my friends in Madagascar say, "Sugar Honey Iced Tea!"

ORN -- 4 miles today. I won't say it was HOT, even though it was. It was more humid, like inside of a tea kettle humid. But it's done. Six slated for tomorrow, and then by Thursday, we're supposed to get some kind of Arctic Blast that will freeze us under layers and layers of sleet and slush. Or at least drop temps below 50. Something like that.

Oh, and Ellie -- I can't normally sex a car either, but I knew she was a girl the minute I saw her at the dealership. She's the daughter I never had! And all scratched up and accident-prone like this, I now know for sure she belongs to me!

Picture Fun

Because I got nothin' else, you get Dread Pirate DinoBoy.



















And the new, shiny, pret-tee car. Name TBD. But she's a girl, I know that for sure already.














And the boys, playing their traditional post-Thanksgiving-dinner-family-football. Followed quickly by the traditional-post-Thanksgiving-dinner-family-football ankle twist and the traditional-post-Thanksgiving-dinner-family-football ice pack.














And, for the ender, a shot of the Aggie Band, stomping all over the Longhorn logo at the 50-yard-line. Right before the Aggie football team stomped all over Colt McCoy and the reigning national champions. Phoo.

Turkey Trot Report

So, I didn't break 1:00. But I did string together some nice times on the 6+ miles, and ran harder and faster than I ever have in my life. And I feel very happy about it, even though I fell short of my unspoken deep-down goal.

I did PR, by about 2 1/2 minutes, and considering I've been doing very little speedwork (as in none, ever!), I was pleased. Plus, when I said yesterday that "The Trot is always fun, and the 10K course is not terribly difficult," that would be a big fat lie. There were hills and hills, and more hills. It seems like the hills have been my bane this fall, but I am proud to report that I didn't walk once, not even on the uphills, and there were several times where I reeled someone in front of me in slowly, passing them at the top of the hill. I slowed down only for the water stops at miles 2, 4 and 5, and then only enough to get the water into me instead of onto me.

The weather was typical for Texas, which translates into HOT. I wore a long-sleeved tech shirt over a tank top and my running skirt, and that ended up being a good choice. I wore the race tee while I watched the first 5K runners come into the chutes, and I needed it then, even though the sun was high enough by then to warm us up nicely. The men's winner came in at 14:45 -- wow -- and wasn't followed by second place for a good two minutes afterward. Lots of fun to watch the fast folks -- I never get to see them!

But after about 35 minutes, I walked back to the car to dump the race shirt and find the start line. I'd run this route before, so I knew we started at a different location than the 5K, and I timed it nicely so that I only had a few minutes in the crowd before we started off. My first half-mile pace was about 10:35, since the crowd was so thick and it was hard to get clear space in front. I had dodged a girl in front of me by cutting left, only to have to cut right again to avoid running head-on into a truck parked on the street. I was able to speed up to get my goal pace by the first mile marker. By then, the hills were coming fast and furious, and by the time we passed the second mile marker, I had already stripped off the tech shirt and wrapped it around my waist.

The third and fourth miles were a bit tougher, with the fourth mile really being a roller coaster of a route, with severe downhills followed immediately by some steep uphills. The crowd support was nice, with folks sitting in lawn chairs on the curb, and one little girl in particular sitting in a tree yelling "Happy Thanksgiving!" to everyone. I stayed pretty consistent throughout despite the hills, and my splits showed it, with all but one mile under 10:00. I considered skipping the last water stop and just cranking it up to the end, but figured that I best take in a bit of hydration, considering I wasn't carrying my own today.

I passed the 6 mile marker at a bit under 1 hour, so I was thrilled, but I also knew I had the last .2 of a mile and I wasn't going to cover that in the time I had left. Still, I knew I'd PR. As soon as I crossed Camp Bowie and had the chutes in my sight, I cranked it with all I had left. Which wasn't much. But, still. I crossed in 1:02:35. Immediately, I felt this huge bubble of air come up my throat, and I was certain I was going to lose it. But instead, it was just this huge burp. Now, you have to know that I don't burp. Ever. I just am not wired like that -- it grosses me out and feels one degree removed from puking. So I never do anything that's going to make me burp, including drinking carbonated anything, alcohol, overeating, or gulping anything. But apparently, I'd been swallowing air with my last half-mile's worth of breaths, and it was pressuring my stomach, and BRAAAPP. Ugh. It hurt and it was awful, but once I did it, and I knew I wasn't going to actually puke, it was OK. And then a second bubble came up a few moments later. Blick. By then, I made my way to the chip-rippers, and then I was good to go. The tables filled with Ozarka bottles were empty, and a little Gatorade cooler was in its place -- bah! But I made my way over to the tents, grabbed a cookie or two and an orange slice (I passed on the green bananas, as apparently did every other runner, there were so many left), and then a volunteer shoved a case of yogurt in my hands. Wha? Yep, 4 6-packs (or 6 4-packs, I can't remember) of Dannon Crave Control yogurt came home with me. I saw some folks carrying two cases. It was pretty good stuff -- Dread Pirate DinoBoy ate one immediately when I got home and I had one for a quick snack. I hope someone likes it, since we have a ton. :)

So, that was the run. Like I said, I'm happy with it. Leaves some room for improvement, but was still a PR. I felt like I left it all out there, and I didn't let the hills get to me.

We had a great dinner at MIL's, and then the boys played football outside before we watched the Cowboys win. And now we're home watching Survivor. A quite bit to be thankful for, if you ask me!

Trotting out the Turkeys

so, tomorrow I'm attempting the 10K Trot over in FW, hoping for a PR. I last ran a 10K in 2003, as the Elder Child has accompanied me to the Turkey Trot the last two years. My time three years ago was 1:05 and change, I believe. Based on today's 5-mile time, in which I was just out enjoying the brisk morning air, and last week's 6-miler, I should be able to cut at least 3-4 minutes off that, if not actually break an hour.

I'm really just using this as an excuse to get out with some folks again, as I'm finding my solitary morning runs to be a bit, well, solitary. The Trot is always fun, and the 10K course is not terribly difficult, if I remember it accurately. I'm not going to be doing anything silly just to break an hour, but it would be nice to do so nonetheless.

I'm mostly worried about what to wear, as it's always freakin' cold standing around waiting for the 5K start, and then once you get moving it warms up too quickly for whatever you had on at the outset. I'm thinking since we don't start until nearly 9:00 I'll go with shorts, tank top and a short-sleeved tech shirt, with the freebie long-sleeved cotton tee over it until I get going.

Um, let's see, what else? Oh, yeah! :) The Skatemobile got upgraded. Hub mentioned in passing last week that I needed to trade in my car, since I was approaching 90K miles on it, was going to be quickly upside-down with each passing mile, and would probably find a good deal with the end of the year coming up. Silly man! Does he not know that I am all about the decisive action!? And that by suggesting it that I would pretty much go out and "Make it so," as our bald buddy JLP likes to say? So, yeah. After looking at the new Honda CR-V and considering briefly the new Jeep Compass, I went with one of these.... which is pretty much the same car I used to have. Except in "Wave" blue, with a sunroof. And the new one smells so... NEW. And it had 20 when my friendly car saleswoman brought it to my office. WOW!

I looked at the CR-V and even drove one Saturday, but two things, OK, three things, put me off of that car. First, it seems way too big for me. The Vibe is small, sporty, and built on a car chassis. It's low to the ground, so there's no having to hike the skirt up to get in and out. Even though we drove the CR-V over and parked it right next to the Vibe, and side-by-side they seemed the same length and width, the CR-V just seemed more THERE, and I didn't really like that. Second, the mileage I get on the Pontiac can't be beat. Even with the automatic transmission, I average 320 miles on a 12-gallon tank, and I never fill it up past 11 gallons, so I get anywhere between 26 and 29 miles to the gallon. The Honda was going to be good, but not that good. And thirdly, the last reason I didn't go with the Honda is the frilliest, frou-frou-est reason ever -- they didn't have the "right" blue. Their "light" blue is more metallic silver to me, and then they go all the way to navy blue, which looked more black, even in broad daylight. I really like the "Atomic Blue Metallic" available on the Element, but I find the Element too boxy, and the same color isn't available in the CR-V. And I really, really wanted a blue car this time around.

So, then I thought about the Jeep Compass, but it's a new model, and that always makes me nervous -- gotta give these folks time to work out the kinks. And the second thing about it is almost as silly as the Honda blue -- those stupid ads. They're the ones with the bobblehead people driving the car. They make me insane. It's just stupid. And I had a hard time wrapping my head around supporting a sucky ad campaign by buying their car, even if their base model was so cheap that I could have gotten tons of extras, like a DVD player, for the same price as the base Honda. Then, Hub kind of sealed the deal there by saying, "Um, it's your car, and you can get whatever you want, but I really don't like Jeeps..."

And we were back at the Vibe. I LOVED my old car. it was only 4 years old, and had Hub not recommended it, i wouldn't have considered trading it in. It was sporty and cute and economical and not at all prissy or fussy. A workhorse, with a few nicks and scrapes to show for its adventures. Sound familiar? Yep. So I called my old dealer and she set me up. And I love my new car. Just like the old car. But shiny and clean, and oh.so.pretty!

Peace out -- gotta go peel apples for the cranberry-apple crisp I'm making for tomorrow.

I hope you have a wonderful, joyous and grateful Thanksgiving with the people you love.

13 miles

I headed out later than usual, to simulate the time of day that I'll actually be slogging around the lake in three weeks. I did 13 miles, and it was alternately too cold, too hot, windy and still. It was a nice run, with nothing particularly dramatic or remarkable about it. Except that little section at mile 7 when Baba O'Riley came on the iPod and I ran along the street drumming the air with my hands, punctuating the rhythms with little jumps and laughing and singing like a fool. That was fun.

Who the f%#@ are you?!

Yeah, so Townsend's jumps are not as high, Daltrey's voice is a little more gravelly, and the other two, well, you know... But, dang, those boys can put on a show: the windmill arm, Daltrey in his tight blue jeans (rawr! wow!) banging the hell out his tambourines, the perfectly choreographed lights, flashing and strobing to the guitars and drums, and the whole arena on their feet. Good times. Even from the nosebleeds.

Of course, I can't hear for sh!t right now...

still here

still breathing. still keepin' on keepin' on. If I can just hold on a bit longer, the light at the end of the tunnel may come into focus. Of course, it may end up being an oncoming train.

and just for arguments' sake, how many shirts does an 11-year-old boy need? We counted 12 that have buttons, appropriate for school, not including the 6 identical uniform tops, the sweaters, the plain sweatshirts, and the long-sleeved henleys. This count also does not take into consideration the drawers full of race tees and hockey camp shirts and Longhorn apparel that do not meet my standard for school clothes. Does this child *really* need MORE clothing? I didn't think so.

oh, hell...

see, that's what I get for running my mouth over in the comments at Bear's. My 'Horns are in dire straits without their main man Colt. I'm hoping he's not seriously injured -- 'twould be a shame to end the season for him this way. That's more critical than the outcome of the game, for sure. Still, I'd hate to end a nearly 2-year winning streak with a lose to K State. Oy.

Gotta go -- I'll be doing the long run around White Rock Lake tomorrow mid-day. I hate that dang lake -- usually I start to despise everything about it 'round mile 16 or so. I figure I'll get a bit more familiar with the it by doing my 13-miler there in advance of the race.

Decisive Action & a new Attitude

Karen in Calgary is right -- if there is one thing I'm good at, it's decisive action. I have a knack for making up my mind about something, and then doing what it takes to back it up. It goes for the way I work at my job, the way I train, and especially the way I parent (not that I do that alone -- I have a fabulous partnership with Hub in that department).

The situation with the Elder Child has been brewing and bubbling for a while now, percolating up into the forefront every now and again, and then we managed it back down into a place where we were all lulled into complacency. But with this last outburst, I determined that we had to take decisive action, and place a line in the sand, and say, "This is where we stake our claim." We all want and deserve peace in our home, and we weren't getting it in our current situation. There was a lot of resentment and stubbornness (we like to call it "tenacity" when it works in our favor but "muleheadedness" when it runs counter to our desires) at play, from all of the players. But as I told my friend last night, as I told the private school principal -- I'd rather have this fight with him now, when the circumstances are in our control, and the worst-case scenario is that, GASP, he has to go to Public School (Oh, the horrors! whatever), than in a few years when he gets himself caught up in something that we cannot fix. So now he knows that he can dig his heels in and put up a hella fight, but on some things, he will not win. He fared better than I did -- he enjoyed the lunch at the bigger cafeteria, met some new friends at recess, and scored the highest grade in the class in his science class (something about velocity, and motion, and momentum -- I found it rather poetic). His science teacher was in charge of car line, and took a second to introduce herself to me, saying, "We had a GREAT first day -- this one is a smart cookie." Yeah, we know that -- that's never been the problem. If anything, he's too smart for his own good, and certainly he's too smart for me.

So, we have a new attitude around here, and that includes no fights with the kids. We say something, we mean it. It's not really new, since we mostly played that way before, but now, there is no doubt about whose will perseveres.

The other new attitude has to do with me and my running. When I woke up a bit after 7:00 this morning, my first thought was, "I have to run today." Then I quickly amended that thought to this: "I GET to run today." I never did Thursday's run Thursday or Friday, thanks to all the middle school drama, so I had a total of 6 miles on tap. It was chilly, finally, thanks to the cold front that blew threw yesterday, and I had a chance to wear some new gear I got for my birthday. I took the Garmin, but not the Shuffle (still MIA), and decided to just run. My reward was a 6 mile distance covered in 59:48. Go me. Amazing what a change of attitude will do for you.

Peace out -- I have a bowl of tortilla soup cooling down and waiting on me, and then I believe it's nap time.

Because your whole world can change in 24 hours

I have to make this short, because I have to go pick up the Elder Child from his new school. On Monday, he rides the bus there. By himself. And comes home on the bus. By himself. Holy crap, what have we wrought? I didn't know that making him understand the error of his ways was going to be so hard on me. As of this time yesterday, he was in a school with 500 Catholic schoolkids between pre-K and 8th grade. Today, he's in a school with 500 kids in 6th grade alone.

I'm sure we'll be fine. All of us. 95 percent of the kids in this state go to public school every day. I just didn't think mine would be one of them. More later.

some progress...

I called the nutritionist and set an appointment with her. first available is December 12th, I think, which is after White Rock, but that's OK. Just by being more conscientious (for real, for once) about what I've been putting in my mouth I'm down 4 pounds since the end of October. yea me.

I ran 6 miles last night while Elder Child was at band practice. It was hot again (mid 70s, but felt muggier because of the humidity), and in the neighborhood where I ran, there were hills. Hmm, sound familiar? Not really, because I ATE those hills for dinner. And wanted seconds. I ran 10K even in about 1:06 -- not blazing, but I kept a decent-for-me, steady pace. And I enjoyed my run. I've misplaced the iPod since the marathon (I think it may still be clipped to my beltpack, but where that's hiding I've not a clue), so I ran without music, without distraction. Just me and my breathing and my footsteps crunching the leaves and the acorns. And I enjoyed it like I haven't enjoyed a run in a while. It was hard work, going up those hills, but instead of retreating from them, I embraced them, I relished them, and I celebrated being able to run up them.

Nothing yet today -- I will probably do my 4 scheduled miles tomorrow evening after work. It will be a nice way to cap the week. Give me a little "unwind" time at the end of a crazy workweek.

In other news, we're pulling Elder Child from private school tomorrow. More instances of lying about finished homework, and grades in the mid-60s when he gets straight As without trying. But apparently, a few zeroes from missing assignments drag down the average. We're done fighting with it. If he's going to pull that bullsh!t, he can pull it for free at the public school. He's also lost all the Legos and Star Wars crap in his room -- his shelves are now free of everything but books. He didn't believe us when we said we were done fighting him on it. I think he believes us now.

um, about that post the other day....

I totally, completely, absolutely mean it. :)

The beginnings of the plan are in place. Among the action items to be completed between now and White Rock:

• call the local swim school regarding coaching availability/rates -- I'd already planned to have them give Elder Child an assessment, so I'll go along for the ride
• call the medical school's nutrition/weight control center for a meeting with a dietary specialist -- I've already got a referral from my endocrinologist
• call the local bike shop for information on their clinics for bike maintenance and a beginner ride group. I'll probably not be able to join the rides until after the marathon, but at least I'll have the info handy
• check the calendar, if available, for summer 2007 sprints in the area. I know there are a few to choose from. I know there is a Danskin in Austin, too, so that might be a good one to make a debut at, since they specialize in first-timers.

So, yeah, I was serious as a heart attack about it. The decision is made. The gears are in motion. Tick-tock.

Tomorrow, a 4-miler as I build up mileage again for White Rock. Time for bed now, even if Da Ali G show is on.

and so it begins....

this is going to be long and rambling, because I've been writing it in my head since about mile 18 of last week's marathon. I've dumped it all out in my brain, and turned it around and inside out, and what you are about to read is the best I can do of making it all make sense. It's going to be sloppy and very stream-of-consciousness, which makes it not much different from every other missive I've ever posted, but, hey, you get what you pay for around here, y'know?

So, where to begin? At mile 18 last week, when I couldn't keep running any longer, because, really, it was hot? And the first two miles of the course had been downhill, so I went out too fast (10:00 and 9:58, I believe) and then I was totally, completely unprepared for the hills. The hills on top of hills, and at the top of the hill, another hill. And the heat, which was tolerable when you were in the shade, except that there was no shade to speak of. Through mile 14, I was on pace to shatter my PR, to come in close to 4:50-something. But I couldn't sustain it. And that, coupled with the heat, and the hills, partnered to drain my brain of any motivation to keep going. I can honestly say that had I had the opportunity to drop out there at mile 18, I would have. Had there been a water stop nearby, where I could have asked a volunteer to radio for a SAG wagon, I'd been on it. So what saved me from myself was that there was no water stop at that mile marker. And by the time I saw the next little cafeteria table with paper cups and two people manning it, I'd come to a realization. This realization:

If I quit this race, I will never be an Ironman.

If I can't finish a marathon when it's sunny and only 70-something degrees out, and I'm fresh and rested, I will never have the will and determination to finish a marathon after a 2+ mile swim and around 8 hours on a bicycle. And then I thought of the conditions in Wisconsin this year, when so many struggled with the cold and the rain and the hills, but mostly with the beasts within that either pushed them forward or kept them from the finish. And I thought, if I can't finish this stupid race, I'll never finish anything again. Dramatic? yes, but damn, it was hot, and just the fact that I was out there at all proves that I'm already a bit off my rocker, no?

So with that realization, I tucked in and decided that I would finish this damn race. I wouldn't PR, and that didn't matter. I would walk in the last 8 miles, and that didn't matter. What mattered is that I cross that line. I had to finish, because while conditions weren't ideal, I bet every single person who toed the line at Madison in September would have traded that day's weather for what I had in front of me. I had to finish, because my little boy finished his tri back in June, even though the other swimmers intimidated him, and there was a hill for him, too, and they cut his run lap short for him, but he finished, dammit, and if he can, I can.

So I just kept walking. One foot in front of the other, counting down the miles, talking myself into constant forward motion:
8 miles -- I do that on a weekday morning, and put in a full day of work afterward. 7 miles -- hell, that's to the park, around the trail near the roosters and back home.
6 miles -- a 10K. an hour at a good clip, 90 minutes walking it in.
5 miles -- recovery day. to the small park and back using the shortcut.
4 miles -- up the block, around to the Starbucks and back -- hmm, who put that hill here?
3 miles -- that's a short day -- to the fountain at the trails and back home again
2 miles -- around the neighborhood -- nearly there -- where is the next mile marker?
1 mile -- to the school on the corner -- no big deal -- I can do this.

And I did do it. It was slow, it was painful. There were times that I cried. Literally had tears rolling down my face, mixing in with the sweat and salt. I cursed that I wasn't more prepared, that I hit the wall so early, that I had to walk when I know I'm capable of running. I cursed whoever decided to put hills at mile 23, because by then it wasn't the uphills that hurt, it was the downhills that killed. The downhills that pounded my quads with every step, and while I thought, "Free speed!" it was tough to keep going because it hurt to walk downhill.

About .4 of a mile from the finish, a young man named Scott came toward me from the finish. He asked how I was, and he said he was to blame for the hills. I guess he helped re-design the course. He recommended that I exaggerate my steps to let some of the tightness out. He said it would be easier to run it in, that we weren't very far from the finish. He told me I didn't want to be the one walking it in at mile 26. He ran with me. He got me to the drawbridge right before the finish. He ran next to me until I could see the finish line and the timing mats at the foot of the bridge, and then he faded and left me to the bridge. To run it in. And cross the line, upright and in one piece. Not exactly smiling, but upright. And running.

The finish line photo folks were taking down their backdrop already. I wouldn't have stopped for one anyway, because I just needed to get to my car and sit down. And if I'd sat down anywhere else along the way, I wouldn't have gotten back up again, not for a while, and not without help. I got my medal and my finisher's shirt (very nice, both of them, actually -- with the drawbridge prominent in the design), and grabbed a banana. And I went to my car. And I sat there a while. And I realized that I'd finished what I had intended to do. Not in the fashion I'd intended, or at the pace I'd intended, but I'd seen it through. I was disappointed, but glad that I managed to keep going when I really, really, really wanted to quit. I've never wanted to quit a race before. I've never been so challenged mentally and physically that I just wanted to give up, to make it stop, to get where I could just sit and rest and not keep going. But now I know. I know that i can keep going, and make adjustments in the plan, and keep going. And I know now, that I have it in me.

So here is the point of this post. There are three kinds of people in the world -- those that have no idea what Ironman is, those that watch people cross the finish at Ironman and think, "Those people are crazy," and those that watch people cross the finish at Ironman and think, "I can do that." Well, friends and neighbors, I spent 5 hours last night glued to my computer monitor watching Ellie and TriMama and Bolder and Commodore and countless others cross the finish line at Ironman Florida last night. And I don't think they're crazy. So what does that tell you?

It tells you that I floated the idea last night of getting a swim coach to Hub, and he didn't blink. It tells you that at some point during the day, when I asked Hub what he thought about it, he said, "It's mostly mental -- if you do the training, you could do it." It tells you that when I was watching yesterday afternoon, DinoBoy saw them crossing the line and asked, "Is that your race, Momma?" (For the record, I said no, but some of my friends were racing).

I tell you what that means. It means that as of this week I have 2 years and 51 weeks before I turn 40. And I will not turn 40 without attempting an Ironman. It means these things:

• I have to learn to swim, and get that swim coach for me and for the Boy, too.
• I need to learn to shift gears on my Toys R Us piece of crap bike, but by next Christmas, on a real bicycle.
• I need to finish a sprint tri by June, an Olympic-distance by next Christmas, and then spend the summer of my 38th year doing at least one half-IM distance tri.
• I need to lose weight. Goal weight by the middle of next year (and this is not a joke, but some cosmic coincidence, I think) 140.6 pounds. If that means getting a trainer or nutritionist, then that's what it will take.
  
• I need to re-align my life to allow for the training.
• I cannot train for IM-distance with 11 hours a week spent in traffic, so that has to change. Somehow, I have to position myself to make that change in the next six months.

Everything I do has to contribute toward this goal, in some way, shape or form. Starting today, everything. I like Xt4's idea of wearing a bracelet, as a tangible reminder of what I'm working toward, so that when I think about doing something to sabotage my effort, I stop and remember my goal. I need to find something similar, to keep my goal front and center. I know I'll be changing the header on the weblog for starters, to visibly remind me of what I'm trying to do.

I'm not starry-eyed enough from watching last night to think this will be easy. I've read the training posts and the logs and I know it's hard work. I know people will doubt me -- doubt that I can do it and question my reasons why. I know this. I also know that people didn't think I could run a marathon.

My family is critical to this, and I know they're supportive. Except maybe DinoBoy, who crinkles his nose when I come in sweaty from running, but who likes my medals nonetheless. Hub is awesome in his total buy-in and indulging me in my whims. But this is not a whim, and I'm sure he knows this, too. He's known me long enough to know that I get what I want. What I need.

So, there you go. A week late with the race report, but really, I think to have hit "publish post" before now would have been incomplete. And I need to put this out there, into the ether, into reality, to make it happen. I have just under three years to make it real. The decision is the hard part. The planning comes next. After that, you just do it -- you just keep in forward motion. Wish me luck.

Ellie's Done!!

Yippee!! Ellie crossed the line, smiling and looking great! Time was 16:2o-something -- I can't remember the exact time, but I've been watching and waiting. What an amazing feat, even if she has done it before! WOW!

IMFL

Good luck, and god speed, to all IMFLers out there today. As a group, you are inspiring and amazing, and I'm jealous and envious, and I wish I could be like Dawn and have found a way to get there and cheer you on in person. I'll be tracking Ellie and Nancy throughout the day, and hoping that they meet all their goals and enjoy the day.

Birthday Boy

Pump_It_Party 038
Originally uploaded by ccervant_99.

Because I don't have the energy for a real post, and still haven't really come to grips with the subpar performance I mailed in on Sunday, I chicken out and give you Birthday Royalty at the Bounce House Palace. I'd give you Dread Pirate, which was actually a back-up costume for the Kindergarten party only, but the camera is in my car. And it's too far to go out to the garage and get it. Getting the idea of how unmotivated I am? Yep. Sorry.

But, hey, Hub walked in the door a while ago, so things have got to look up, right?