Pain in the knee + barfing + Toddler arrival

My blog suffers from (enjoys? depends on your points of view, I guess!) multiple personality syndrome. I love to talk about my running but I also happen to love talking about my wacko kids. If I were a Varsity blogger I would probably focus completely on one or the other - or write TWO separate blogs - but I am very much on the JV squad.

So, first, the  knee. The Eastern States 20 was maybe the best race and worst race I've done. It was the best for the following reasons:

• I ran the entire distance with a great friend
• I got to the place where I really hated it.... and then got through it and finished strong
• I ran at a pace that was respectable
• It was an explosion of gorgeousness, from the weather to the views of the Atlantic & incredible homes along the way

It was the worst for the following reason:

• My body was not ready to run 20  miles.

Everything from my waist up was in great shape. Cardiovascular-ly  I was totally solid and could have run on forever. But the lower half was just not ready for the kind of beating I gave it. I am thinking that I have runner's knee AND Dead Butt Syndrome. (It's a thing. Trust me.) I have been trying to be better about strength training and stretching this week to assuage those things. I have also only run about 5 miles all week, which makes me shudder in shame, but I've definitely felt the effects of laying off the miles: good for my body, if not for my mind.

The non-running has actually been not so hard to manage because of another big event at our house this week: barfing. It started with Gabriel on Tuesday night. And it hit poor Tom at school on Thursday afternoon. So far, the rest of us have not suffered from it. Knock wood, it's been long enough that I think we are in the clear. The active care for the barfing really puts the kibosh on ones desire to pop out of bed at 5 for a 3 or 5 mile run. So, thank you, horrendous stomach bug, for helping my body recover from that wonderful, terrible race.

Finally, it happened yesterday. Gabriel, my 11-and-a-half month old nugget, became a toddler. He is (mostly) choosing to get from Point A to Point B as a  biped as opposed to a quadraped. Is there anything cuter than a newly walking kiddo? They always look like they've head about 4 or 5 too many cocktails. So far we have not had any disastrous spills, though a few bruises might be spotted on his noggin if one looked carefully.

The other momentous event yesterday is his parroting. Elliott & Tommy were playing and Elliott was saying (loudly, musically, dramatically and repeatedly) "DUN-DUN-DUUUUHHHHNN". Gabe was playing across the room from them and he would mimic Elliott with a sweet, singing duh-duh-duh every time. I asked Elliott to change to different easy sounds and sure enough, anything Elliott said, Gabe tried to copy. 

It's time to get rid of the bottles. It's time to stop cursing around all three kids, not just the oldest two. It's time to batten down the hatches.

Toddlerhood is here!