Runner Breaks: Perspective

It's been, as usual, a long time since I've written. The mid-late fall at our house is like a three-ring circus, and two of the rings are usually major musical theater productions. This season has been no exception. Before I go into the shameless self-promotion section of this post, I guess I ought to do a  brief update on my running.

I recovered enough from my stupid calf strain to participate in the 15 mile race that was attached to the Ghost Train Ultra marathon. The weekend was exactly what I needed it to be: a wee break from motherhood, a re- or first-ever connection with running friends, ample but not excessive travel time, and fantastic weather. I won't even attempt to do a play-by-play of the weekend since it is so far out of my brain. The mighty band of Vermont Badass Ultrababes that were kind enough to include me in their merriment ROCKED their perspective races. From 30 miles - 100 miles, I am fairly certain that each of them achieved at least one of their goals. (We runners never go out without an A, B, and C goal, ya know? So there's always a taste of success!) I was very inspired  by them and think I may dip my toe back into the ultra arena next spring after Boston. Maybe.

The 15 mile race was Sunday morning so the folks shooting for 100 miles had been running for almost 24 hours when we started. One of my goals (don't ask me if it was A, B, or C) was to just be exceptionally supportive of all of them. I have no idea how it might feel to keep your body in motion for over 24 hours straight, so my hollering to them as I went by them (coming or going... the course was out and back) may have been completing annoying or completely appreciated. The good thing about having fresh legs compared to those that have already done 90+ miles is that you aren't around for long to find out and can just assume you were just what they needed or wanted at that moment.

A short bridge I found to be way too scary for a person running on through the night. Good thing I wasn't running through the night!

Amazing VT runners. So. Freaking. Amazing.

My BRF, Lauren, had a foot injury and couldn't run either. She was a LEGIT hero and went out and did 15 miles of walking in the middle of night with some of the baddest of asses. I was sound asleep at the Hampton Inn, for the record!

I pulled a Phoebe and planned to run the course and not race it.... but then of course I raced it. Not 100%. When I met up with the Vermont Badasses who were still at it I stopped and walked with them for a bit. Oh, and there was one desperate port-a-potty stop at about mile 5... but by the end I was really gunning for the finish line. It was a gorgeous day, an insanely beautiful course, and it felt so freaking good to let loose with some speed. I was as sore as after my last marathon the next couple of days, but it was worth it.

Then, of course, after the race, I got home and faced the reality of my husband and I being part of two major musical theater productions: he is directing the high school's The Sound of Music and I am The Cat in the Hat in our community theater's production of Seussical the Musical. Elliott is also in Seussical. His show is this weekend. (I saw it last night. SO good!) My show opens next weekend. If you have ever been part of a show you know how the last couple of weeks go. It's just nuts. Plus exhaustion. Plus stress. All in all, a good time!!

We are keeping the costumes and sets a secret to enhance the "wow" factor when the curtain opens, though I kinda wish we weren't. They are so.freaking.amazing. It's going to be a great show, despite the narrator... (me).

I am, therefore, not even worrying about running. I am purely going for when-I-feel-I-can mental health runs. This week that happened to only be Monday morning and today. Today I got a bit of a bonus in because I ran 5 miles to the theater clean up (gotta scrub those toilets before the audience comes!) and then ran the 5 miles home. It was exactly what I needed. I am going to keep running (or not running) however it suits me until the show is over. Then I will look around and see if any holiday-themed races strike my fancy/fit my calendar & budget. Otherwise, I am hitting Boston training pretty hard come late December.

It's so obvious - yet comical - how it is to take a break from running when it's a conscience choice:

"Yup, too much other stuff going on... stuff that I WANT to do and ENJOY. I am going to lay off the runs for now."

Compare that to my other recent and heartbreaking breaks from running caused by not-my-fault and then TOTALLY-my-fault injuries:

"I am losing my mind. I can't function without running. I may commit manslaughter if I can't run. WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE LIKE ME?!?!?!?"

Yup, Totally obvious. And, as far as my personality is concerned, totally unavoidable. Oh, well.

500th!

Hey, Wow! This is my 500th post! That's pretty cool. Especially since I have been blog-slacking to the extreme lately. I wonder when or if I will ever go back and re-read these things. Yeah, probably exactly one minute after some horrific virus strikes Google and everything I've written is irretrievable. Shudder.

I write today after so long a break because of a couple of unrelated happy occurrences. Well, if you believe in such things, it's possible they are cosmically-related, but whatever. Don't go consulting your crystals about it or anything.

The first thing is that my dear friend Kathleen ran her first 5K today! 'What's so great about that?' you may ask. Well, many things.

I have known Kathleen for just over 10 years. (She started out as a theater acquaintance so it's easy to keep track of when I met her: we were doing Annie Get Your Gun and Tommy was just a few months old). Shortly after we met and just before we became really good friends, she had knee replacement surgery. Because of this, whenever talk of running came up she was very supportive of me and my pursuit  but was clear about herself: Can't run. Knee replacement. Not possible.

Then, of course, there is the small matter of Kathleen facing a little thing called CANCER back in 2011. Ummm, yeah. And she did not get that friendly kind of cancer where you have a little tidbit removed and a teaspoon of chemo and then you're good to go. She had knock-you-on-your-ass, scare-the-crap-out-of-you, surgery-and-chemo-from-hell, with-a-side-order-of-pulmonary-embolism for added excitement. It is not an exaggeration to say that Kathleen thought she was going to die. And while all of us who love her never spoke of it, there were many moments when we wondered, too.

Of course, Kath would jump in here and dispute, "Well, you can't call what I did really RUNNING.... Lots of people who started in waves after us caught up to us... " Yadda yadda yadda. Typical denial from a lady who deserve some Horn Tootin'! She trained hard for this event. She started out just walking the dog and then trying to run a bit as she went along. Then she got on the Couch to 5K plan. And then she made it 3 miles with some walk breaks. And THEN, last week, I got a message from her saying she RAN the WHOLE THREE MILES. That is so huge. For anyone. But for her, that is like Neil Patrick Harris Hosting the Tonys Again Huge! (Legend - wait for it - dary!)

I did my due diligence and FB stalked her enough to share these pictures. (God bless that Journalism degree. I am a pro!)

Stranger on the Left had a the perfect sign for Kathleen on the right... (who is stranger  than most but not A stranger to me!)

Kathleen's friend, Barbara, ran with her. I didn't dare commit to the event, given my bad run of luck lately. (RUN of luck... HA!)

Knowing Kathleen was cranking out a personal goal this morning was not, however, enough to inspire my lazy butt. I say lazy, but I guess after the week we had here I had a reasonable excuse. All three boys were sick this week. And not in that convenient-but-challenging all at once way. It went like this;

Monday - Gabe wakes with major boogs and fever. I stay home with him.
Tuesday - Gabe still has fever. Scott stays home with him.
Wednesday - Everyone wakes up healthy. Yay! Off we go to school.
Wednesday afternoon - Call from daycare. Gabe's fever's  back. Drat.
Wednesday night - Gabe cracks his chin open and Scott takes him to ER. (I am at play rehearsal at the time). No stitches. Just exceptional stress and steri-strips.
Thursday - Gabe is OK but Tommy wakes up with a fever. I stay home with Tommy and Gabe because, ya know, bashed open chin and fever yesterday....
Friday - Tommy still has fever. Scott stays home with Tom. And, bonus, it's Scott's birthday. So that's fun!
Saturday - Everyone is feeling OK. Woo hoo. Getting some stuff done around the house, putting away the outdoor furniture... and, uh oh. Elliott doesn't look so good. Yup. Elliott has a fever.

My running has been going OK. I've come to grips with not doing the Ultra in a couple of weeks and I will happily just enjoying my time with my running pals and being their Athletic Supporter. I am focused on Boston 2015. And I reaaalllly wanted to get in a double digit run today. It would be my first since August. But ggggaaaaawd I was so mentally exhausted from the week. And gaaawwwwwdddd I just had no give-a-damns left.

Then, the phone rang. And it was Kathleen. And she told me about her run and I thought, yeah, I need to go do that 10 miles.

So I did. Of course, of all the hilly routes I could take around here, my unplanning feet took me on the hilliest. So I trotted along at a decent pace, listening to podcasts, contemplating the universe. (That is, if you think that contemplating the fact that I knew we had no chocolate chips NOR chocolate milk ingredients in the house is equivalent to contemplating the universe...)

Thanks and big congrats to you, Kathleen! And if you do another one, remember the Age Old Rule: "Run if can. Walk if you must. But always, always, pee yourself a little."

P.S. Everyone think BQ thoughts for the great Sarah Bowen Shea tomorrow. She is one of THEE mother runners from Another Mother Runner and she is poised to do amazing things in the morning. West coast time... so don't get your fast thoughts in too early.

No Go G-G-G-Ghost Train, Scoobs

Acceptance. I am working on it. I'm not sure what level of grief that is but I am working my way toward it.

What, you may ask, am I accepting? The short but unclear answer is The Inevitable. The short but with lots of unknowns answer is Giving Up on the Ultra for October 25.

I have not run in 2 1/2 weeks. Today I did one mile - on a track, so I would be sure the surface was best case scenario - and it ached the whole way. I could certainly have gone further. And 3-weeks-ago Phoebe definitely would have. But I have been in touch with my physical therapist - and my Grown Up Self - and knew that was just a big, fat, bad idea.

So, I pulled out of the Ghost Train Ultra. Even if my leg was 100% today running it was going to be truly excruciating at best, given that I have not been able to put in the hours and miles on the road that I really ought to. (Perhaps you have heard or can intuit that running 45 miles is a titch taxing and requires a bit of physical and mental preparation?) But knowing that even a slow, one miler was causing stress on my leg... Correction: a slow one miler after 2.5 weeks off PLUS tons of TLC in the form of foam rolling and stretching and icing and strengthening.... well,  you would have to  be as dumb as 4-weeks-ago Phoebe to think that was an OK plan.

I don't have a new plan right now. I don't even have a new PT appointment right now. Right now I have hotel reservations for the ultra and I plan to volunteer and cheer my ass off for the Badasses who are up to the challenge. My BRF, Lauren, will still give it a go for 30 miles and then she and I will think of something fun to drink, I mean DO, whenever I get off volunteer duty. I mean, it's basically now a girls weekend away without all the pesky chafing and blisters. Two of our pals are going for the full 100 miles so we will be there on Sunday to support them. 

But of course I am sad and mad and frustrated. When I got the green light from PT and the surgeon to do this I kind of thought it was just going to happen. Not that I wasn't going to have to work my ass off for it and not that there would not be struggles along the way. Hard work and struggles are what this whole thing is about. I just thought that I would get to the starting line. 

And now I'm not.

And so I'm sad.

And mad.

And frustrated.

BUT... I got a Facebook message today that took me back almost a year. It was from one of  my Pay it (40)ward friends. My husband's cousin, Kristen, actually. And here is what it said:

Hi Phoebe! Just wanted to send you a note- and this is a really long time coming, but time slips away from me so easily with everything going on.... I wanted to let you know that I elected to use your pay it forward to become a Big Sister for the BBBS program. However, I knew that my company has been struggling financially for a long time now, and so I've been riding it out to see what would happen. Just didn't want to sign up with a child and then find out I have to move for a new job! Sure enough, we had a layoff on August 12. However, it looks like the local job opportunities are plentiful enough that I will end up staying here, so that's what I'll be doing! I can't think of anything that reminds me more of you than helping to nourish kids and their futures, so I've been very much looking forward to using your seed money there. Thanks again and sorry it wasn't more timely for your actual bday!! Have a great weekend

Yeah. Remember Pay it (40)ward?! I almost didn't either.  Somehow I almost managed to forget about this big thing that I started planning last year and all of the great ideas and generous overtures people have made as part of The Plan. How timely that she wrote to me today. Partly because of my silly notion that running 40  miles for my 40th was not enough... And mostly because Kristen is a genuinely awesome human being, some kiddo in the greater Boston area is going to get some  serious 1:1 time with a smart, successful, interesting, caring adult. Yay, Universe! I needed this today!

I also get to try to get into Boston on Monday. If the Universe is giving me any signs at all they are all pointing to a big fat "NO", but here's  hoping that my qualifying time is enough. Last year's entrants had to qualify by a little over 2 minute faster than BQ and I qualified by 4:51 faster. I hope I hope I hope it's enough.

If you're a runner, I hope all of your body parts are treating you kinder than mine are treating me. Run on, dear friends! And run a few for me, please!

The Opposite of Training Tips

I can't be sure what your fitness life is like. One of the interesting and ponder-ful things about writing a blog is you never know who will read it or when. So, I suppose it's feasible that you, dear reader, are Kara Goucher-esque in your knowledge and skill set when it comes to running. And, it's just as likely that you don't even know who Kara Goucher is.

I kid myself and like to believe that my Words of Wiz Dumb reach wide swaths of humanity. Therefore I will try to include something that leaves each consumer with 1990s NBC Saturday Morning Kids Show Shooting Star Rainbow "The More You Knoooow" musical interlude in their head. The opposite tips I share here are for everyone because, as you will see, they are completely obvious and actually do NOTHING to fill your brain bucket. They simply serve to remind you that this writer is, as always, a big dumb dope.

Opposite Tip 1: Ignore grievances from your body

The most important opposite tip I can offer, and really the one that encompasses all of the tips I will share, is to ignore the signals you get from your body. Especially if those signals come from the general region where you have fairly recently had major surgery. Just because your right calf is chatting you up on every single run does not mean you should lower your mileage or stick to flat, even ground for a while. Obviously you should focus on your ultimate goal  - an October ultra marathon in my instance - and ignore the long game. You've got miles to cover, girl,

Okay, even I am not really that dumb. To be fair to me, I didn't actual ignore the pain. In fact, when my calf started hurting I stretched and strength trained and iced it like a Star Physical Therapy Student. What I DIDN'T do was cut my mileage or put good thought into my routes.

Opposite Tip 2: When on vacation on Cape Cod, run fast, then far, then far, then fast again.

So, my chatty right calf was being dealt with in the best way I knew how (cough) and then it was time to hit the road for vacation. For me, this was the first time all summer when I had a grown up to child advantage. My mother- and father-in-law were there, my husband was there, I was there. That would be FOUR, FOUR glorious grown ups to take care of just THREE, THREE darling-but-in-need-of-supervision boys. A person just can't pass up this kind of child coverage. She's gotta run.

First day there we arrived around 1:30PM. I unpacked while the others hit the pool. Then, I stole away for a quick 4-miler on the roads. Had to shake off that drive and, let's face it, use the time I had.

Second morning I was up at 4:30AM to get in at least 2 1/2 hours.  Not a bad plan, but I wanted to keep off the main road as much as possible. I had mapped out a route that the Interweb told me was 'partially unpaved'. Okay. I can do that. Well, partially unpaved meant lots of sand (Hello, Cape Cod is near the ocean. Have you heard about this?!?) so it was quite a work out for my lower body. And did I mention my right calf was being a little cranky? It was a slow, slog with lots of hills but I was well-hydrated and gu'd and ultimately, I felt very badass and good when it was over.

One bog among many.

Third morning I was smart and slept in and only did about 3 miles. JUST KIDDING. I got up at 4:30AM and basically did the same route as the day before. I was thinking of the ultra and knew I just had to get miles in. Get miles in. Get miles in. Again, when it was over I was pooped but felt pretty good overall. Oh, my right calf was being a little bit difficult but, whatever.

Obviously on the fourth morning I slept in and rested because doing 15 miles of trails 2 days in a row and then running again would be ridiculous. JUST KIDDING! On the fourth morning I realized that if I covered just SIX more miles I would have covered 40 miles in 4 days of vacation. It was a no brainer. I hit the road (and stuck to the road because even  big dumb dummy like me knows that sandy trail was probably not a 3-days-in-a-row scenario.) But I didn't feel like just going out and doing 3 out and back. I changed my Strava app to Kilometers, warmed up for a KM and then did 'fast' for KM, 'slow' for a KM. I chugged off a 10K by 6:30 AM.

Then we packed up and came home. I left the Cape feeling like Superwoman wrapped in Bionicwoman with the brain of that chick who plays Blossom on The Big Bang Theory. Freaking brilliant.

My Two Dads and the young Bette Midler in Beaches, too. 

Opposite Tip 3: ABC - Always Be Cocky

When we returned from Cape Cod, I did take a day off from running. I attended to Cranky Calf by doing some (more) PiYo (Have you done PiYo? It's SO good! So hard! So good!! Google it. Do a YouTube video of it. You will see what I mean...) On Tuesday I intended to take advantage of the fact that I was not back to school yet. I was going to get up at 4:30 and do a slow 90 minute run. My alarm (on my phone) was on MUTE: NOT helpful! So I got up a little before 6 and did 4 miles instead.

The NEXT day I had the alarm properly set because I had staff meetings to attend and I was determined to get on the road for my 90 minutes. I hit the road and had a leisurely jaunt to 'town' for 4.5 miles and then turned around to home. I was 2 miles from home, about 6AM, when something in my calf went "pip". I say 'pip'  because 'snap' would definitely be an overstatement and even 'pop' is too big a word for it. It was not a painful 'pip' - the closest equivalent I can think of is like what it would feel like for bubble to pop under your skin. Just after the 'pip', though, I couldn't run. Could. Not. Run. I could hobble. I could pull off walking without out a limp when cars drove by (can't have people asking me if I need help!) but this sucker HURT. I called Scott a couple (6) times. I knew I could make it home but it would take me a LOOONNNNGGGG time to get there. He saw my calls when he got out of the shower and came to rescue me.

Opposite Tip 4: PANIC!

I was not sure exactly what I had done to myself. I was pretty sure I hadn't blown my Achilles  because it was still functioning. (My understanding with a torn Achilles is that your foot just kind of flops when it ruptures.) I have to say that I am proud that I shed no tears (of frustration or otherwise) over this. It was more of a dope slap situation. And I kept defending myself to myself and others: "But I was so smart! I strength trained! I stretched! I iced!" What I didn't do, of course, was cut my mileage at all and instead just kept ramping it up.

Actual Tip: Call your Trusty PT Who Understands You

I was able to get an appointment with Kevin, my PT who is a runner/triathlete and thereby, despite my insanity, gets me. I was able to get in the next afternoon and come to find out, and I hope you are sitting down, I ran too far. More specifically, I ran too far on 'technical' (I love that term for trails that are made for tripping you) surfaces. He confirmed that, yes, my calf hurts. He said it was a grade 1 or 2 muscle strain. He said I should  not run for at least 2 weeks. He did 'ice and stim' and an ultrasound to get the blood flow going. He said I need to live in my compression socks (a tough one since I have just one pair... EEEEEWWW!) and ice it, foam roll it and stretch it (though not too far).

 So, now I am not running. And I am not thrilled. But I can hardly be surprised. This October Ultra is going to be even slower than I thought. But, merrily we roll along. I hope all of YOUR parts are functioning at full capacity. And remember: Don't Do What Phoebe Does.

Just cuz their cute. (I swear the one on the left has not been drinking.... he's mid-blink, not mid-drink!)

Tomorrow I "Prove It"

Way way waaaayyyyy back in January(-ish)....

When I was running way way waaaaaaayyyyy farther than any normal human being ought to....

And I was blessed with way way waaaaayyyy  more luck and good health than any human rightly deserves.....

I signed up for the Another Mother Runner "Prove It" Challenge. This amazing community of runners came together to support each other as we trained for a 10K or a 1/2 marathon. Each Mama (or non-Mama, the group is not exclusive!) got access to support and camaraderie through suggested training plans, Strava (a GPS/tracking/social media app/website where we could commiserate), emails, coupons, Google hang outs.... Just, like, EVERYTHING! I connected with and received great encouragement on my crazy long, cold runs (remember, I was training for the 40 while most were training for 13.1 or 6.2). More importantly, these women were exceptionally empathic and supportive when I tore up my knee and saw all of the hard work crumble.

The idea was to run your goal race (either a 'real' race or a virtual one you do yourself) on or around Mother's Day. I never signed up for it but I figured I would jump into the Big Lake Half Marathon, which is always the day before Mother's Day. Then you could celebrate with a "Proved It" t-shirt and medal that participants received in the mail. Obviously, I was up to my eyeballs just trying to bend my knee 90 degrees and put full weight on my leg at the time I should  have been in the heart of training for this. So, I never "proved" anything. I have the t-shirt and medal hung near all of my get well cards and various doo-dads from El Disastero 2014. Below is a little "ChatterPix" video I made when the shirt came. I was trying to sound upbeat but I was, actually, fairly down about the whole thing.

(If you have an Apple device and you don't use ChatterPix, I am telling you... it is SO fun. And it's FREE! You gotta get it)

And tomorrow? I prove it!

It will not be easy. I have to get up at 4AM to get it done. (Scott is running a meeting at camp at 7AM sharp and, oddly, he doesn't think he will be able to do that with a squirmy 2 year old in tow. Huh!) I have to run it local. (Translation: I have to run it from home. Translation of translation: I have to run it on a LOT of hills).

It will not be fast. Suddenly 10 minute pace is Goldilocks. Okay by me.... just takes longer to churn this sucker out!

It will not be the last. The mileage just keeps getting higher from here in preparation for Ghost Train.

But you better believe that as soon as I am out of the shower tomorrow I am putting on that shirt and wearing it with as much pride as any race shirt I've ever had. Maybe more....

Finally, and almost as exciting to me as the thought of cranking out a 1/2 marathon by 7AM tomorrow, I am waiting anxiously for Fed Ex to deliver my 110% Compression Juggler Knickers. They should be here tomorrow (hurrah!) for my recovery. They are by far the most expensive piece of running gear I have ever invested in, except for maybe one pair of Brooks that I went nutty for. I am hoping that they are as amazing as everyone says they are. (Ice packs fit right in the pockets! Compression speeds muscle recovery! Plus, I mean, they are *H-O-T* lookin'!) My huge frustration for the moment is that tracking from Fed Ex shows that they have been SITTING in Connecticut (from North Carolina) since midnight on TUESDAY! Yes, I got free shipping, but c'mon! This seems like they are deliberately not delivering them just so I don't get the benefit I didn't pay for.

That's a stunt double butt. Wish it were mine!

And now, with less than 7 hours before I need to be heading out the door.... I gotta post this blog. Hope you can forgive all of the errors. There are certain to be many of them!

Too long

Some dear blog reader left a comment (read: nudge) yesterday letting me know that it had been a month since I had written a post. Out there in the universe, someone is actually LOOKING for these things? That's pretty sweet..... Or maybe creepy.... But I have settled on sweet.... But maybe...?... No. Definitely sweet.

So, wow. A month. Really? I mean, ONLY a month? It honestly feels like much longer. And I don't know where to begin. Certainly not at the beginning because there's a lot to cover. I guess I'll just try to hit the high notes, which might be interesting since I am a mezzo at best, and more a true alto everyday. (Vocal music humor. Does this lady's wit know no bounds?!?)

I am legit running again.As in, even my SURGEON says it's okay now. So I  am no longer running based on non-existent, non-verbal communication that I think my PT is trying to tell me. Come to find out, that guy just comes out and TELLS you what he thinks you should do. In fact, the surgeon has put a stamp of approval on my running the Ghost Train Ultra on October 25th. (His only contingency, literally, was that I have send him a photo for his 'success story' board. Can do, Doc!) So, that's the next big (nay, HUGE) thing. I am gunning to run the 15 mile out-and-back course 3 times so I cover my 40 miles for Pay it 40ward plus 5 miles penance for being dumb enough to go skiing.

And the running is going.... OK. I really can't complain. I am slower than dirt but so far my Type A has not destroyed my positive feelings about running. Before my last appointment with him the surgeon had assured PT that I would run and get sore and swollen when I started and then I would back off. So far my soreness is in places other than my surgical area. The areas that hurt are old friends who have always cranked on me a bit when I run. I am definitely more careful about things and have even purchased a "stick" to roll out the ouchies.

If I remembered/had time to type them up, I would have a hundred little chuckles about my post-ACL runs so far, but of course, I don't remember nor make the time. I will share that I was feeling UBER-victorious on Saturday afternoon and evening because I had done a 90 minute/9.3 mile run that morning. My longest post-surgical run (by 3 miles) and my first long run on my training plan for the ultra. Now, I don't discount the legitimacy of these self-congratulatory feelings. It was really something to be proud of, especially since it required me to sleep at camp and get out of bed at 4:30AM. But my ego shrunk about 7 sizes on Sunday morning when my workout reminder "ding'd" as I checked my email. On the schedule? THREE HOUR run.

Ummm. No. I did not take a 3 hour run on Sunday. I, in fact, had such a mom-fail day that I didn't even do any strength training or yoga or SQUAT diddly on Sunday. (Monday, though, I got out and did 8.4 and felt pretty good. Ego size boosted up about a quarter of a point.)

Elsewhere in life:

a. Husband is working and living at camp except for 24 hours a week. This living situation is worthy of an entire Blog in and of itself, but I will just say there are lots of good things about it. And then there's everything else....

b. I am teaching summer school 3 mornings a week. Quite possibly the world's perfect employment situation: not too much, not too little, every weekend's a 4 day weekend. Truly the Goldilocks of jobs.

c. The toddler is expanding his vocabulary rapidly based mainly on observations of his eldest brother. ("word," "that's sick!" and "what the heck?!"); The toddler is likewise being 5,001% more loving and hilarious... except when he is being 5000% more TANTRUM-y. (Good thing for that precious 1%, huh?) At least we are through the week or so of "I do not nap at home so screw you, Mom, I am not napping until September" part of the summer. (No, he doesn't say 'screw you.' Yet.)

d. Big brothers are walking a fine line between being best buddies and practically murdering each other. They have each discovered a few book series they love and are happy (almost EAGER) for the 30 minute required reading time after lunch every day. This doesn't sound like much but compared to previous times, this is borderline astounding. Big brothers will both be official campers for 3 weeks later this summer. Now THAT should be interesting...

e. Finally, we managed to get home for Camp Gungah (i.e. as many of the 8 siblings and 20 nieces and nephews as possible gather at my parents' house) the week of July 4th. Here's a peek at our float for the parade. The theme of the parade was 'songs' and we chose "You Are My Sunshine"...  Sweet, right? But with this crowd, we of course won first place for FUNNIEST! Ya had to  be there, but believe me... it was FUNNY!

In the Books

Here's the false start I got on this blog on Tuesday night:

Like a kid on the night before Christmas - or maybe  more accurately the night before the first day of school - I was super anxious and excited to set my alarm for 4:30AM last night. Even though I knew my run was going to be very short, I had to give myself the extra time for a few reasons:

1. I needed to go somewhere straight and flat.
2. The closest place that is straight and flat is 10 minutes-ish away.
3. I needed to be back in the house by 6AM to start the day with the rest of Team Giessler
4. I needed wiggle room in case I hit the farthest point on the straight, flat trail and things went to hell and I had to walk back.

And then my husband put on season 2 of Orange in the New Black and it was all over from there. Can you blame me?! He and Elliott are off to the Legoland Discovery Center near Boston today in honor of E's 8th birthday tomorrow (WHAT?! EIGHT!?!?), Gabe is taking a nap (WHAT?! A NAP!?!? ON SUNDAY!?!?!), and Tom is in his Minecraft Glory (ummmm, not surprising) so I have a couple of minutes to rattle off the latest in my knee saga.

So, yes. I had a short, albeit longer than I expected, run on Tuesday morning. The reason it was more like 30 minutes than 20 was because I turned off the audio cues on my Strava because, frankly, I could not bear to hear what my pace was going to be. I used the stop watch feature on my regular watch and planned to turn around after 10 minutes. The trouble is, I didn't hit start when I thought I did. A 'bit' into the run I looked down and saw 5:12. That seemed reasonable but a little less than I expected. About five minutes later I looked down expecting to see 10:00 or so.... and instead saw 5:18. Oh. I was looking at the TIME OF DAY. So, no harm done. I ran about 15 minutes out instead of 10 and it was okay.

The run was fine. I trotted pretty slowly and enjoyed the not-too-hot, not-too-cold, pleasant summer-esque morning. My knee did not hurt at all, though my stupid lower back/hip pain of old did show up. ("Hello, Old Friend.")

Later than morning I had PT. Besides kicking my butt with new sadistic exercises involving resistance bands and balance balls (not at the same time), everything was good there, too. He took a look at my stride on the sidewalk out from and, as far as he could tell, I had no hitch in my giddy-up. This week we will use the Super Slow Mo camera and the treadmill so we will have an even better look at my stride. (I feel like this is the equivalent to have the dermatologist putting your face under the magnifying glass. Horrifying. But I'd much prefer the camera on my stride.)

I get a little twinge on the outside on my knee by mid-afternoon so I iced it that night. Next day? Fine and dandy and ready for some Jillian Michaels yoga. She's so BA.

I have promised that I will not run more than every-other-day and that I will not attempt anything approaching a long run until I have seem my surgeon or at least on till my PT has talked to him. I fully intend to follow that rule but I ALMOST broke it yesterday. The boys and Scott were heading to the beach down the road from us and I thought it was a good opportunity for me to get a run in. It is just over 1.5 miles away so I figured I would run past the beach and then turn around and head back to the parking lot at 30:00 or so. I gave Scott a bottle of water to keep in the car for me - it was pretty warm by New Hampshire standards. All was well and I trotted along, passing the guys on the beach. I waved at them but nobody was looking up when I went by. No big deal. When I calculated that I ought to, I turned around and headed back to the beach. Joke was on me: they were gone! I was confused and decided that Scott misunderstood my plan. (Maybe he thought I wanted HIM to be well-hydrated?!) I chalked it up to destiny, adjusted my big girl pants, and set my sights on home. Thankfully, it was only about 7 minutes later when Scott & boys went driving by. The beach was very breezy and the water was very cold, so they decided to head out sooner than later. They went to find me but did not realize I had turned onto my 'usual' road instead of going straight. I was thirsty and ran about 10 extra minutes  but otherwise it was not a problem.

Last night I had, for the first time since February 8th, that delicious total-body-exhaustion feeling caused by a good run during the day. I was delighted and horrified: delighted because I knew I truly worked and horrified because I had only done 40 minutes worth of work. It's going to quite a feat getting ready for 45 miles at the Ghost Train Ultra!

In other great news, I had a friend text me last night that she ran 2 miles without a walk break for the first time ever yesterday! She is doing Couch to 5K and, until a couple of months ago,  did not run at all because she had knee replacement surgery years ago. I'm sure there are plenty of people who hate workout posts on social media (Lord knows they have all un-friended me by now, I hope, rather than curse me!) but I love love love it. This stuff makes me completely and unreasonably happy. Yay, team!

GAWD. I am writing it and this post is boring even ME! So sorry. I think these will get more interesting as my runs get longer. But, here's a cute picture of Gabe from yesterday. So maybe it will make up for some of the droning:

Two more days!... (and some barfing)

There's nothing like a violent stomach bug to stimulate a hardcore house disinfecting session. And for some reason, with me, these intestinal extravaganzas always stimulate a blog post. I guess a part of me knows what the public wants: vomit and diarrhea. And believe me, beginning Friday afternoon, we had plenty of that to go around.

Actually, it probably goes back to Tuesday morning. Gabe woke up 'stinky' and I thought it was caused by the olive oil I used on his head the night before to try to get rid of his horrible cradle cap. (Non-parents: Google it. It's a thing. AND.... the olive oil, along with a follow up with coconut oil, worked!) We don't buy very fancy olive oil, so I thought maybe it went rancid. (Now, now, don't call social services: I DID wash his hair thoroughly after I massaged his scalp with the stuff, but olive oil does not go lightly into the night. Or the shampoo and down the drain.) So, I gave him another bath (holy change of routine Batman! He was NOT happy about this AM schedule switch) to try to blow out the stink. When I went upstairs to get his clothes for the day (and turned on the lamp for the first time) I found... barf all over his crib.

Ooops. Guess we know what made him so stinky.

But, he seemed to be feeling alright, if a little cranky about the bathtub sitch, so we chalked it up to something not sitting well from the night before and moved on with our day. And our week.

Upon reflection, he was pretty off for a couple of days after that behavior-wise. He wasn't loving his meals or snacks and he was easily upset. But, ya know, he's TWO so we all (including daycare) just figured he was being, well, TWO.

Cut to Friday morning. Elliott, almost 8 and almost-always Mr. Chirpy, was devastated when I asked him to go upstairs and turn off the lights before we left for school. He complained of a stomach ache (or a 'stomach egg' as he calls it) when we got to school. I chalked THAT up to his 9:00 bedtime (fairly recently extended from 8:00) and his continued pre-6:00 wake up time. Long week. "Late" nights. End of the school year changes of routine.... He was just overtired and emotional. Plus, he made it through the school day, so I was totally right.

Wrong.

Thank GOODNESS he got weepy Friday afternoon. Thank GOODNESS he said he just wanted an apple juice when I offered to buy him a snack on our dreadful-but-won't-we-be-glad-when-it's-done trek to get groceries after school. Thank GOODNESS I decided that maybe he was legitimately not feeling good....  Because instead of heading out for a long afternoon and evening in the car and in the stores, we went straight home whereupon he barfed. And barfed again. And spiked a wee fever. 

And as these things often do, midst my clean up of his puke and preparing dinner for the people at our house who were not currently coughing their cookies, I realized that I was a little off myself. I decided to skip dinner and focus on getting through the Gabe part of the evening. I ALMOST made it. But my intestines were ready to party just a bit before night-night. 

I won't go into additional details, but let's just say ALL of us had at least some form of this abominable abdominal party going on this weekend. Scott and I spent most Saturday swapping off who was up out of bed and who was on Gabe duty. The older kids were basically on their own: Elliott never leaving the couch, really, and Tommy - less disabled than the rest of us but mildly suffering - enjoying a Minecraft session beyond his wildest dreams. To be honest, I definitely had more un- or barely-conscious time than he did. This thing was just plain killer and sapped every ounce of life out of me. 

I hear Saturday was a brilliant day weather-wise, but I don't think any of the Giesslers could confirm that.

So, today we all woke up feeling whole lot better. Which is a good thing because from about 6:30 this morning until about an hour ago, we were in full-on de-germination mode. 

Thank goodness that's all behind us and we'll never have another stomach bug in this family. 

But, enough barf-o-rama talk. Let's focus on something that makes me feel less like barfing and more like doing back flips: I get to run in two days!! It's going to be epic. (Or it's going to be horrible). I am going to feel great. (Or I'm going to feel horrible). I am so ready. (Or I am so horribly un-ready).

It's actually hard to believe that the time has finally (legitimately) come. I had these visions of acquiring incredible abs and Michelle Obama-esque arms while my knee was being stupid and preventing me from running. Come to find out, you can't just order those suckers up from Amazon. You have to actually DO the damn push ups and planks. Who knew? So, while I am by no means completely out of shape, I am certainly not the specimen I had hoped I would be as I start up the running journey again. 

It's like I just met myself. Shoulda seen that coming.

Another important decision I have made: I have chosen my 40 mile challenge. I will be running Ghost Train Ultra Marathon on October 25 (and into the 26th, if I decide to be totally hard core and run long). Although I loved the idea of doing my 40-miler on March 15 with my friends and family all there for me - and basically for me alone. But, this race is perfect for this re-boot for many reasons:

a. It's only $50! (WHAT?!?! That's NOTHING for a race of this length). 

b. It's a flat-ish out and back 15 mile course.

c. Gu and fluids and stuff will be available every 3.5 miles, so I don't have to plan out my nutrition and hydration too much.

d. I have 30 hours to get it done, so even if I walk the whole way, I don't have to worry at all about pace. (Many runners are attempting to do 100 miles, hence the long race time)

Most excitingly:

e. I have MANY pals (mostly from my Reach the Beach adventure) running it with me!! Granted, we probably won't be running WITH each other for the most part, probably, but this out and back course assures us that we will be in touch frequently through out our prospective journeys.

I am completely distracted right now. The Tonys are on. If you missed Hugh Jackman hopping for 4-minutes straight, then I am very sorry for you. I gotta go now..... 

Hugh's OK.... But NPH is still my fave.