Day 4

Distance: 4.00 miles (on day 4...how appropriate!)

Time: 42:13

Cumulative distance: 10.8 miles. (HEY, that's not bad!)

It's amazing to me how I can be all revved up and ready to go on a run, step out the door, and one little hitch will make me change my whole plan. Tonight, it didn't. But I admit that as I stood on the front porch of the house in the misting rain waiting for the Garmin to pick up the satellites, I felt the run number in my head changing lower and higher and lower and higher. And as that little black line flirted with getting itself all the way across the screen and then jumped back, then forward, then back... I felt my brain clicking through the "How far do I really want to go today?" thought process.

I had it in my head that I was going to do 4. That changed to three. Then even down to one when my feet hit the road. But as I started to put one foot in front of the other, to feel the chill of the misty rain hitting me in the face, and to listen to Garrison Keillor telling the Tales from Lake Wobegon on my MP3 player, I found myself just getting into the rhythm of the run and going. 

At the 2 mile turnaround, I was debating taking a walk break. There also almost always comes a point in a run where I have to decide how hard I want this to feel. Pretty tough today. I was running the whole thing. And I did. I finished relatively comfortably. Again, not as fast as I thought I would be... but having covered the entire distance running, I was content. Now, it's back to school tomorrow. 

Humble Pie

Tomorrow is the first day back at school post-Christmas break. I'm running later today--whenever Kevin gets back from the farm. But for right now, I'm sitting on my bed in our bedroom with a pile of about ten pairs of jeans, eight or nine shirts, and various other pieces of clothing I've weeded out from my closet. It's humbling. At one time, I fit into all these articles of clothing. I didn't realize how far away from fitting into all these pieces of clothing I had gotten until I tried them on this morning.

I hold onto clothes. I think I'm always right around the corner from losing the weight that it will take to put these clothes back on. But when I went through these clothes this morning, I realized that even if I were to lose the weight to get these clothing items back on, I probably wouldn't want to wear them anyway. I wouldn't buy them if I were in the store with them today. That's my litmus test.

Still, I'm trying not to beat myself up, but it's hard. I want to kick my own ass for getting this out of shape, for putting on weight (like so many people do in their first years after getting married even though I swore to myself up and down that that would not happen to me), and I'm trying not to beat myself up about losing that discipline that I know I once had.

It's hard, at times, for me to not go back to this move to Kentucky as the root cause of this. Yes, a lot of good has come out of the move, and I'm ultimately glad that I did it. But at the same time, it's hard for me to not see a series of decisions that I made when I first got here in reaction to the stressors of that job that I took. I get this really victimy feeling about the whole thing... as if Mary O. (my old boss) was holding the puppet strings. I gave away too much power, and whenever I go back to thinking about it, I'm giving up that power again. But it's a tough row to hoe, I guess. I'm working at it.

So I'm donating all these old jeans and all these shirts that I never wear, and I've traded them out for some beautiful clothes I got in Michigan this last week, and I'm trying to regain some confidence and dig deeper to balance out the parts of my life that I love with the parts of my life that I miss. I can have both of those things at the same time. 

Day 3

Distance: 2.0 miles

Time: 20.04

Running total distance: 6.8 miles

Day 3

We spent a large chunk of the day today in Louisville celebrating my father-in-law's 60th birthday. I didn't have a lot of motivation to run when we got home. The temp was in the 50s and threatening rain. I was stiff from driving for three hours, doing some sitting at my sister-in-law's house, eating poorly while there (we were promised pizza... there was no pizza). But running no matter what is a pretty simple concept. Love it.

So I went down to the Oakland school track and set out to run a mile and a half and ended up running two. Right on. 

Day 2--Night Running

Distance: 1.8 miles

Time: 18 minutes

Ouch level: Not all that high. Feeling a bit of soreness in my right shin and a bit around the knees as I'm requesting that my body carry around more weight than I ought to.

Day 2

My Garmin was beeping at me before I even started today--Low Battery. My Ironman watch has been dead for several months. So the time above is estimated, and the distance is maybe a little generous. I ran tonight without any sense of how far I was going or how long I was going... I checked my cell phone right before I got out of the truck and right when I got back to it, and that's how I got my run time. I estimated the distance based on a 10 minute mile, and that might be a little generous, although I did no walking tonight.

120 days from today is the Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon, and I'm thinking about giving it a whirl. I won't commit until the 31st of January, so we'll see how this month goes. But if I'm going to sign on for a spring marathon, that's the one I'm going to sign on for. 

Day 1

Run: 3.00 miles

Time: 32 minutes

Route: Oakland School Track and back

Weather: 40s, sunny, headwind on the way out, tailwind on the way back

Post-run: wheezing, red-faced, feeling good

Today is day 1 of my 31 day running streak. I set a goal of 31 days to see where it leads me. The only parameter for the streak is that I have to run every day. Shooting for at least a mile for it to count as a run. But really, the focus is on getting out there every day no matter what. 

I'm not sure why.

Sometimes I train for a race. Sometimes I train for fun. Sometimes I train from guilt. The goal of running for the sake of maintaining the streak is something new for me. So I thought I'd try it. 

Day 1

My ass felt huge. I suited up. Told myself not to beat myself up and headed out the door like millions of other Americans who are using today as an excuse to start again. Some people mock that idea. I figure today is as good of a day as any, so why not start today? Should I put it off until tomorrow just to avoid starting on January 1? Silliness.

So I set off to run. And I ran a mile and a half before I took a 40-step walk break. Then another half mile before a 35 step walk break. Then another half mile before a 40 stepper. Then the rest of the way home. It didn't feel bad. I am working hard to tell myself positive things. Not to dwell on where I once was or where I feel I ought to be, but to run where I am right now. And see where that will take me. 

Post-run, I'm feeling wheezy and red-faced but strong. It's the start of something new. And something new is always exciting for me. 

Ride today! Wooppeee!

Missed my run or ride yesterday when I got something in my eye that felt like a lincoln log. It was a speck, but it knocked me on my back for about an hour while I tried to figure out why every time I tried to open my eye, my body's reflex was to slam it shut again. Big baby. Couldn't get out.

But today, after a bunch of after-school hullaballoo, I came home and took a quick nap. I needed it. Some afternoons, my energy is completely gone by 1:30, and it takes a lot to recover it. I'm trying to be better about spreading my calories out over the course of the day, but it doesn't always happen. So today, I was wiped.

I made a couple of slices of bread with some natural PB on them when I got home. Then I took a nap. And I woke up at 6:00 and jumped off the couch and got changed and was out the door by 6:10. Rock on. That's about as late as I can go to get a ride in here. So it was a shortie, but I was happy to have done it. 

Time for some relaxation. 

Sore legs = good

I went out today again. Sore when I walked out the door. I'd been working all day in the house, and the weather seemed to have finally broken, so I was ready to get out. The wind has been howling here from Hurricane Ike, and the skies were grey, but the rain has stayed away. And the temperature has dropped. Perfect start to fall running weather. And it was a good run. 

I'm full of excuses. I don't say them out loud, normally, but I'm full of them in my head. And I'm trying to silence that voice. I also like to nip that excuse-filled voice in the bud and invite in my more positive self-talk. so I expect that my writings in the next few weeks as I work my way back into shape will be full of both--positive self-talk and nipping excuses in the bud.

Big breath. Here goes. Kevin and I have been wanting to have a baby, and I've used that as an excuse in the last several months. Every month has been a different drug and another blood test and a big sigh... and it hasn't gone the way it seems to go for most people. But the drugs do change the body a bit. And the process does affect the mind a bit. And so running has taken a back seat as I was assuming that any day now I wouldn't be able to run anyway. Silly, but true. Enough of that nonsense. We still want to have a baby, but it's not an excuse to not run, for crying out loud. 

Putting it out there on a blog seems a bit forward. People whisper about these things. They don't seem to talk about them. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because they don't want people asking about something that holds such potential for both joy and disappointment. Or if people know that they want to have a baby, when they finally get to have one, the surprise of it won't be as great. Or maybe it's just because it's a pretty private thing (although some of my relatives don't seem to mind bringing it up now and again). I've considered just telling people that we're unable to have kids so that if we do finally get pregnant, it will seem to be some sort of a miracle...and perhaps then people won't ask about it. But maybe I just want to talk about it.

The thing is, we've wanted to sell this other house for two years now. And it's gotten to the point that it's almost embarrassing that we haven't been able to sell it--as if not selling a house that we aren't even living in is some sort of a reflection of inadequacy on our part. And Kevin's family has gotten to the point that they won't even ask about that house any more. What does this have to do with our trying to have a baby? If we put it out there that we are trying, I wonder if people will at some point get to the point where they, too, don't want to ask about it. 

Sometimes I enjoy being brutally honest about personal topics because I like to wade through the social crap that seems to create barriers between people... but then other people don't appreciate that bluntness, and it tends to have the same affect. 

Ahhhh, the phone... cut short by the phone. 

Starting somewhere...again...

I ran yesterday. Two miles. Two miles. Two miles. That's it. Have to start somewhere. I'm always telling myself that I have to start somewhere. I just hardly ever expect that somewhere will be where it is. And for some reason, I can't not beat myself up for having let it get so far from me. 

Kevin says I'm like Rocky. Always one to make a comeback. I'd rather just have some consistency again when it comes to workouts instead of a roller coaster ride. I've missed it since leaving Culver. 

There are times when I'm sitting there in my thoughts, and I feel like I can feel my body expanding just as I sit there. Getting bigger. I envision my cells just expanding. Fatter. It's awful. Just being honest here... not realistic. Why do I beat myself up so much?

On a good note, I can feel my desire to be out there doing this stuff finally coming back. I've reclaimed a lot since moving to this house just a short month ago, and my rhythm is coming back. I think some would call that mojo?

Today's another day to keep starting somewhere.

Living the dream...with a little bump of reality

We live on the bike route. I've wanted to live on the bike route for as long as I can remember. And I can walk right out the front door with my bike and step onto the street and get on the bike route. I trained almost exclusively on this route for Ironman--combining loops to make 30, 60, and 100 mile rides that were familiar and hilly and challenging.

Yesterday's little bump of reality was just that, a bump. In the noggin. With a soda can. I was doing just a short ride in the misty rain yesterday afternoon, and I was only about a half mile from the house on the road on which I actually live, when a car came up from behind me. Thinking nothing of it, I waved them around as the oncoming traffic lane was clear. 

Before I knew what had happened, I had been beaned in the head by an empty soda can. It bounced off my helmet and hit the ground and that was when it registered that someone had assaulted me. My immediate reaction was to flip the guy off who did it. Then I decided to chase down his truck. I didn't really have a plan beyond calling the police when I got the guy's license plate, but I was going to make an effort. 

I started a sprint to try and catch him, but he, of course, had hit the gas pedal as soon as the can was thrown, and I couldn't catch him. I rode the rest of the ride with my head up looking for the vehicle, and I actually thought I saw it coming back towards me a little further up the road. I stopped my bike in the middle of the road, took off my sunglasses, and stared down what I thought was the offending vehicle. It wasn't it. 

I rode the rest of the ride trying to sort out what I ought to do. Nothing. I hate bullies. I'll ride with my contacts on in the future and look for the plate. I'll also always have my cell phone with me. And I'll pick up the can next time it's thrown (if there is a next time).

The good news is that I've been riding for about seven years now, and I've really only had one run-in with a vehicle besides what I had yesterday. But two is two too many. I wonder if karma will bite him in the ass? I wonder if he'll know it when karma does?

Still living the dream. I'm not giving that power away. 

Home...finally, home...

For the first time in three years, I feel like I'm home. We have so much work to do that it makes me tired just thinking about it, but we have as long as we need to get it all done. So, that's what we're doing.

Home. Finally. 

Hopefully holding our breath...

We are about to join the ranks of the folks who have two mortgages. It isn't our first choice. For two years, we've lived in this run-down farmhouse with a sinking bathroom floor, leaky roof, rocking toilet, and no clothes dryer that is an hour and fifteen minutes from my job with the idea that we would move only when the house in Versailles sells. That was our plan.

But giving up 2 1/2 hours a day in the truck, $600 a month in gas, and the farmhouse's limitations were getting taxing. We've not been able to have our wedding gifts (or chosen not to, really), because we've been waiting for a house where we could really enjoy them. Still, we've been waiting.

Then, last Sunday was a bad day. I got up in the morning, got my morning coffee, and was looking online at some houses in Smith's Grove (a hobby of mine), and I discovered that one of the houses that I had been eyeing for quite some time had the price dropped $20,000. Oddly, I was heartbroken. We've been talking about how we were going to take advantage of this buyer's market, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. And suddenly, I was feeling incredibly overwhelmed by it all, really.

I strapped on my running shoes and went for a quick run, but my emotions were just boiling. I have to say that I was well-aware that I wasn't just reacting to the house that we wouldn't be able to get. I also kept thinking that it's really not bad. There are millions of people (literally) in the world who would be incredibly happy to be in our position--to have the opportunity to live in a house with a roof over their heads, jobs that pay well, a family next door, and the necessities--home, clothing, food. I know that because I work with people who don't have those things all the time. And I feel the weight of that knowledge when I get stressed about our situation. 

I stress about not having a house where family and friends can visit comfortably. I stress about not being able to sell that house in Versailles--it feels like I'm still paying penance for deciding to leave Culver and take that job. And I feel like life is on hold...has been on hold. Or at least, I know we've been choosing to put things on hold in a lot of ways. 

Monday morning. I started making phone calls. By Monday afternoon, I had information on the house with the dropped price. I had called our mortgage company to see if we might be able to get one and how much it would cost. I had made an appointment to see the house the next afternoon. I had talked with Kevin on the phone a hundred times. I felt like I had started to figure things out. 

Tuesday night, we went over to see the house. The weeds and grass around the house are grown up so tall that we could probably mow and bale it. But if you can wade through that and imagine the house without it, you can see the potential in the property. The front porch has room for our rocking chairs and a swing. The view is of a beautiful cow pasture across the road. 

The inside is another story. You have to get beyond the incredibly stupid DIY ideas that the previous homeowners tried to implement to see that there is potential there, too. There's damage to the floors--neglected problems with french doors and moisture. There's a doorway that was filled in that should have been left alone. There are the most hideous paint and wallpaper choices throughout the home. But what Kevin and I saw is a home..our own home. 

So we put in a bid, the bank counteroffered, we bid back, the bank counteroffered again, we bid back, and the bank accepted. Now, we're waiting for the home inspection. And we're so excited we're bursting at the seams! But holding our breath that the inspection doesn't reveal anything that we didn't already suspect was there or anything worse than what is there. Please keep your fingers crossed for us, as well.