How (not) To Run in Senior Nirvana

In yesterday's post about The Many Vomits of Team Giessler up and down the east coast over the Christmas holiday I made mention of an Epic Fail Run that I took while on vacation. Here is the tale of that run.

Because of the very cold and icy winter we've had so far, my Pay It 40-ward training has not been flawless. Anyone who lives in northern climates and is training through the winter to run an ultra marathon in early spring would be excited about the idea of a few days in warm weather and friendly terrain. I was downright GIDDY at the idea of doing my runs in The Villages, Florida for that very reason.

I was disappointed not to have experienced one single Golden Girls sighting. 

On the morning after we arrived, I got up at 4:30 in order to get in about a 3 hour or 18-mile run. Since running takes a lot of (selfish) time I make attempts not to make the rest of the world work around my schedule whenever possible. The Villages has many different communities within it and they are all connected by golf cart paths (and regular roads, too, of course). These golf cart paths are fantastic for running. The only trouble is that sometimes at an intersection the path takes you off of the main road and onto another road... maybe not the one you really want to be on any longer. I knew this, as I had run there before. To prepare for this, I typed out on my phone a list of the roads I wanted to take for my run. I didn't do the miles out but I knew that if it was too short I could always do the loop a couple of times.

Well, of course, I got out on the paths and lost my mind. I was loving the flat. Loving the comfortable temps. Loving the quiet. Loving the 'dark' (I had my headlamp but hardly needed it as the area is pretty well lit with street lights). After about 45 minutes I noticed that I wasn't on the road I thought I was on. I didn't panic because I knew I could use my GPS to get me back to the house. (I had wisely typed in the exact street address of their house on my phone.... otherwise this story would have an even more tragic/hilarious ending!)

After about 2 hours of tooling around different cart paths and generally  loving life, I got out the phone and typed in the address. It said that by foot I was about 7 miles from their house. Perfect, actually! I looked at the map, memorized the streets I needed to take and got on my way. Every 10 or 15 minutes I stopped to check the phone to make sure I was going in the right direction. The little blue line between me and the house was still solid. I was totally on the right track. I made a pit stop at one of the many rec centers to use the bathroom and refill my water bottles. I checked in with one of their early morning workers and he directed me to the street I needed. Still feeling good.

Coming up on hour 3/mile 18, I was wondering why I hadn't found the turn I needed. I checked the phone again. Still on that pretty blue line but, ummm, what's this? Now I was NINE miles from their house?! What the heck was going on? How could I be still on the right route but farther from the house!? At this point I knew, even if I figured out what I was doing wrong, I was not going to make it back. I just didn't have a 27 miler in me. I called Scott and told him where I was. (Right by the Nancy Lopez Golf Course, in case you are wondering!) He relayed through his Dad that I was a LONG way from their house and I needed to go SOUTH on the road I was on. I had, of course, been going north. Very north. For a very long time! Thankfully they were able to hop in the car and would be able to pick me up fairly soon.

As I ran the next 3 miles down the now-sunlit road I realized my error. Yes, I was on the right road. And yes, I was still on the pretty blue line. But I was only on the pretty blue line because I was CREATING the line... making it LONGER and moving it AWAY from my destination. That GPS was making me feel all warm and fuzzy when actually what I needed to do was so "HEY, STUPID, YOU ARE GOING THE EXACT WRONG WAY!"

Big. Fat. DUH!

So, that's runner's brain for you. It hits in any climate, apparently. Blessedly there was no fear of frost bite nor dehydration because I was in winter runner's paradise. I even had an extra Gu and Chomps when I was done.

All in all it was a great run. I got in 21 miles - a real confidence booster, actually. And I managed to get in 6 more miles the next 2 mornings as well. That was probably my first time ever hitting my very tired legs with another run the day after a 20+ miler. What a great 3-days of memorable running.

And then it was Christmas and I got sick... and the boys got sick.... and well, you read yesterday's post, right...?

If you're really curious, here's the link the RunKeeper page documenting my dumbassishness. http://runkeeper.com/user/PhoebeVG/activity/282726011

Pay it 40-ward updates to come soon! A big decision has been made Several great ideas from the Team to share! I will get my act in gear, I promise!

The virus heard 'round the world...

... or at least the East Coast.

This is the story of our amazing Christmas holiday. And I start out by telling you it really was amazing and we had a fabulous time because when I tell the REST of the story, you are sure to think it was awful. Because it was. Except when it wasn't. Anyway.....

The week before Christmas break was a busy one for us. There were two evening obligations at school that meant we didn't get home until after official bedtime. (Remember, we live 30 minutes from school and when there is an event, I don't see the sense in driving all the way home only to turn around and go back again. So, we hang out at school for the late afternoon until the event begins). There was also a karate party to attend. And then there was the small detail of getting the boys packed for a SURPRISE Christmas trip to Florida.

Yeah. My in-laws very generously flew us down to visit them on December 21st. Scott and I thought the idea of making it a surprise was really appealing. Which it was. But it meant that we had to surreptitiously get everything packed and ready to go without them noticing. Totally worth it, of course, but challenging.

With all that going on - plus the general OH MY GOD WE'VE GOT TO GET READY FOR CHRISTMAS - it was of course the ideal time for Gabe to get sick. On Monday afternoon I picked him up from daycare and he looked like one of those babies on the infomericials. "For just 23 cents a day, you could ensure that this little boy gets the medicine he needs to combat the infections that overwhelm him." He was a conjunctivitis mess with crusty grossness oozing from every orifice of his face. (Num num!)

Cue me taking Tuesday off and carrying around 28 pounds of sad puppy most of the day. (Not an ideal way to pack for a trip!) He had a double ear infection, so good call on the Doctor's visit! We were a bit wary about the other boys because a stomach bug had been going around their classrooms but it seemed as though they were in the clear.

Cut to Saturday. Gabe is feeling better after a 3-day antibiotic. The boys are thrilled to to be going to Florida - they were VERY surprised! - and we get on our way. The Manchester airport is like candy - not crowded and easy to navigate. The flight down is a titch bumpy and Gabe gets a 6.5 out of 10 for handling the trip. Not awesome but not horrible. YAY! We are in the amazing 85 degree, sunny-ness of Florida!!

All is very well the first couple of days. (I have a very funny running story to insert here but that's another post). We go to EPCOT on Monday and that goes great, too: a little crowded but the boys are troopers and patient and everyone gets to do the things on their 'must do' list.

Christmas Eve starts out great. I go out for a 4:30AM run (my attempt to not interrupt everyone's plans with my running. Not so bad when it's a gorgeous 50-something degrees at that hour!). When I return I get showered and go for a walk around my in-law's neighborhood with Gabe and Elliott. Elliott quietly tells me that he had a bit of a problem in the bathroom earlier and that's why he changed his clothes. (I hadn't actually noticed). Long story short: he thought he had to go #1 when a surprising #2 showed up. To his credit, he did his best. And completely understandably, he was really embarrassed and didn't want to tell anyone except me about it. When we got back inside I went to his room to assess the situation. Oh. My. Plastic bags, stain remover for the carpet, and trip to the side yard and the garden hose were immediately in order for several pieces of clothing. Also, a very hot water wash in the washing machine.

Okay. No big deal. He wasn't feeling sick. Just given strict instructions to ALWAYS sit when he had to go to the bathroom for the duration of our trip. Just in case....

Cue Christmas Eve night. I go to bed pretty early because a cough is coming on and I'm tired from some pretty big runs I've taken. Around 11:30 I hear Scott bolt out of bed and I am up immediately because...

Tommy has barfed all over his bed and the floor next to it. Varsity level barf. Varsity level in consistency and color and smell. Varsity level fun. Back to the hose. Back to the hot water wash. New sheets. New pillow cases. Lame attempt to clean up the carpet. Though he never told us he wasn't feeling great, he had seemed tired all day and didn't eat much at dinner. Thankfully, just after the up chuck, he felt much better and went straight to sleep.

My throat and lungs, on the other hand, decided that this was the time to go nuts. I started coughing. And coughing. And COUGHING. After a few minutes I left the room for the couch. I made some tea. I drank lots of water. Eventually I took the Children's Cough Medicine (BLECH!) and I got a couple of hours of sleep.

Christmas day was mostly uneventful... E had one more 'oops' but it was easily taken care of. Scott very kindly made sure I had a couple of nap opportunities, thank goodness. I had, however, managed to cough so hard in the night that I pulled some muscles in the chest and shoulder. That's a special kind of idiot injury, don't you think?

On the 26th we had to head home. The trip was fine - though Orlando airport was CRAZY and we literally had 5 minutes to spare before we had to board when we got to our gate. Most difficult was the drive home from the airport. A snowstorm was blowing through and it was a sllooowwww go. We got home in basically one piece and immediately had to re-pack for a trip to upstate New York for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary party. We made it happen because we are, let's face it, mostly just made of awesome.

That night, Tommy came into our room to let us know... he barfed again. This time in the hallway because he was trying to get from his top bunk to the bathroom. Once again he felt a lot better when we was done but we had the fun of cleaning up yet another spew in the middle of the night.

The next morning everyone woke up feeling okay. I managed to get squeezed into my chiropractor to get my neck and shoulder back into place from my coughing nonsense Christmas Eve. We got on our way to NYS and all was well... until about 1/2 way through Vermont when Gabe barfed all over the back of the car.

I really wonder about the folks who drove by us at that point:  a woman on the side of a snowy road undressing an unhappy toddler in the freezing cold. Thankfully I had a spare pair of jammies for him NOT buried in the suitcase. Scott did his level best to get the barf-ness removed from the car but you can imagine that the scent of it lingered for the next 5 hours of our trip. We called my mom at this point and begged to stay at her place instead of the cheap motel we had reserved... the whole point of the weekend was to NOT stay at Mom and Dad's since we wanted them to enjoy their family, not cater to us! Of course Mom was happy and excited at the idea of spending more time with us, even if it was virally-gained.

Finally, we made it up the long, snowy road to my parents' and Scott said, "Please just find out what bed we are staying in. I am not going to make it long." And he didn't. When we got there he had a very high fever and was just 'done'. He went to bed and I unloaded the car and the boys ... a very long process! When I went down to check on him and encouraged him to take something for his fever, he said his stomach was not feeling up to taking anything. I suggested that the boys felt a lot better after they threw up, so maybe he should try that.

An hour or so later when I came down to bed, he reported a successful "boot" and that he felt better already. The next morning he was not at 100% but by the time we left the house a little after noon, he was back to normal.

Off to the 'schmancy' hotel we went. Pool time for the boys and then we got dressed for the party. It was a wonderful time (pics, sometime... IDK why my family who had cameras have not posted any yet!) with the usual noise, chaos, laughter and joy that my family specializes in.

Back to the hotel we went. We were very nervous about Gabe's ability to sleep with all of us in the same room. So, Scott took Tom and Elliott back to the pool in hopes that G would go to sleep and not awaken when they QUIETLY returned. Worked like a charm. He was super tired and basically begged for his pack n' play. YAY!

And then, about 11:30, Tom started talking in his sleep. He talks a lot in his sleep and when it's 'upset' talk, I have found that usually means he has to go to the bathroom. So, I woke him up and told him to go to the bathroom. He went but didn't have to pee. Went back to bed and continued to have very upsetting sleep talk. Eventually he woke up fully and said his stomach was hurting.

He had stomach cramps. Horrible, horrible stomach cramps. He was in pain and it made him angry. And it made him not-very-quiet. By the grace of God, he didn't wake up Gabe with his hollering. We went into the bathroom and I tried to help him breathe through the pain. The cramps died down eventually and he went back to bed. For a while. Then they kicked in again. The 'cure' I think, was when I told him to get into 'child's pose', which I assured him would get any gas in his belly out. It did. And then led to a very drawn out session in the bathroom. Which mom needed to be present for. I won't go into details here but let's say we had a few flushes before things finished up. I was worried we weren't done at this point so I pulled out my phone and we watched an episode of The Regular Show on Netflix on the floor of the hotel bathroom.  I told him I was hoping we were taking a horrible time and making a sort of nice memory out of it. "Remember that time we watched The Regular Show on the floor of the hotel bathroom...?"

At LAST back to bed. And my coughing started. Just like Christmas Eve. I went straight the bathroom hoping not to wake anyone. I downed the last of the Children's Tylenol (could not find the cough medicine or Ibuprofin...) but the coughing did not let up. Scott got up and reminded me that there was hot water and lemons in the lobby. So, down I went. That would totally do it!

But no. The beautiful lemons were plastic. The hot water had been put away for the night. The desk clerk gave me a tea bag and said I could heat up water in the room's Kuerig. Had I been more with it I would have said "DUH! I don't want to wake up my whole family!" but I did not. I just said "thanks" bought Tommy an overpriced Vitamin Water (to stay off dehydration, I hoped) and headed back to our room.

The tea worked and the kids didn't wake up, despite the noisy production process. I finally stopped coughing and everyone was drifting off to sleep. It was about 2AM.

And then the bars got out. And the nut jobs in town streamed into the small city streets below us. And there was a fight. I honestly thought it was a small riot. The yelling was crazy. Couldn't tell what they were saying but they had STRONG feelings about it, let me tell you. Eventually: police sirens. It was PERFECT. Scott and I were officially NEVER going to sleep. (Thank the good Lord, the kids managed to sleep through this!)

At some point this stuff settled down. At some point I went to sleep. I am guessing that I enjoyed it. I am guessing it was really lovely.

At 5AM Tommy woke up again with awful pain. Back to the bathroom for some fun. Short lived, thank heavens.

But this time, Gabe heard the party going on and said to himself, "Five in the morning, it's time to get up!!"

So, Gabe and I left the room. We went down to the lobby. (Thank heavens it was a nice lobby with cable TV). We walked around the halls of the hotel. We went to Starbucks. We hung out in the lobby some more. At some point my sister and her husband came down to use the gym. We had a nice chat and she read a book to Gabe and I took a mental break. At some other point my niece came down because her family was still asleep and she was still on South Korea time from her semester abroad. And at some point (about 8AM) I got a message from Scott that they were awake and it was safe to return to the room.

He was ready to scoot the boys out so I could sleep for awhile. All I could think of was the 20 mile run I was meant to take. I had set my alarm for 4:30 so I could get it done. Sometime around 2AM I turned the alarm off. But I had to get SOMETHING in. I was wide awake. I probably could have slept but I felt fine at that time. So, I got on my running clothes and instructed Scott to come and pick me up in about 90 minutes. It would not be 20 miles, but it would at least be about 10. And it would be on some kick ass hills.

(This is not really a post about running so I will say nothing here of the chilly but lovely weather that quickly turned to chilly and rainy weather that quickly turned to chilly and icy weather that led to a big car accident that led my family members who knew I was running in that direction to panic about my well being.. I was fine, thanks, but very glad to have my pick up from Scott when I did!)

And so I did. And so he did. And so we went back to my parents house where a wild snow storm ensued. And we had another lovely day with family and food and even some football, which we do have some capacity to appreciate despite our low level of sportiness.

And most importantly, after the rough night we had and given the not-so-pleasant weather, we chose not to go to my sister's place in the Syracuse-area that night and stay at my folks' again instead. This choice proved very wise as it we avoided getting stuck on the side of the snowy road along with her family and 7 other cars for several hours on THAT fateful trip. (If that had happened, Scott says he would have gone completely "Clark Griswold" on me.)

We got home late yesterday afternoon. As we sat down to dinner, I looked at Elliott and said, "Do you feel okay?" He did not.

He had a fever....

Of COURSE he did.

Micro Blog... DUH!

It's 7:45 and Gabe is in bed. I've already checked in with the boys in Florida (they had a great day). There's nothing amusing on television, I'm avoiding cleaning up the mess in the kitchen and, well, once again I have no excuse not to blog.

But I have been spending so much time thinking Twitter-style that most of my insights are posted there, in their 140 character glory. What could I say on here that's more interesting. Nothin'. 

Then it occurred to me: DUH! Twitter is a MICRO-blog. (Irony of all caps/large font intended.) So, I will only be violating my own copyright if I repost here. 

So, here ya go, Blogger pals. The *best of my Tweets for the last few little whiles.

(*The term best is relative, of course.)

1. A good test to find if one is mentally competent would be if they are fully content to go to sleep for the night w a pantful of poo.

2. P.S. 10-mo-olds could get away w aaaannnnything. #pantfulofpoo

3. If ur wondering what to get my 10-mo-old for his 1st bday, his current favs are filthy toilet, hot stove & flight of stairs. #dangerzone

4. #hilarious #starwars #publictelevision http://i.imgur.com/QPgaJz1.jpg  

5. Nature abhors a vacuum; baby abhors objects not strewn across the living room floor. #babyscience #resistanceisfutile

6. Drinking big cup of irony this a.m. Big boys & DH off to Orlando. Baby & I battling snowstorm on return from airport.

P.S. As I sit here finishing this blog I am watching "Makers:Women Who Make America" on PBS and they just finished the bit on Katherine Switzer and the Boston Marathon. Goosebumps. Amazing. Go girls!

I am Idiot, and So Can You.* (Part 1)

*Title idea blatantly stolen from Stephen Colbert's "I am America, and So Can You."

Sometimes I amaze even myself with the ways in which I can foul things up. Or foul myself up.

Friday morning, for example, my unconscious mind decided would be a good time to do some serious damage to a major appliance in our household. The forecast called for 1 - 3 inches of snow overnight Thursday. I assumed we'd see an inch since everyone knows meteorologists like to exaggerate... especially since it's been a fairly boring winter here so far. We awoke to the usual darkness on Friday morning at about 5:45. A quick click of the TV showed us that there were a few school delays but nothing near us. Message? Proceed as usual.

At about 6:30 I was in the kitchen and decided to turn on the outside light to get a look at how miniscule the snow fall was. Oh, dear. We had about 6 inches of snow. Granted, that's not a ton. But, that's more than can be ignored given that I had daycare families on their way to drop off bambinos. So, we scrambled. Scott agreed to deal with cleaning out and starting up the pellet stove before he left for school. He also said he'd start the snow blower for me and I promised him that the snow was so fluffy and light that I would not be doing any damage to my "delicate condition". It would be about as taxing as vacuuming. No prob, Bob.

Come to find out, it was quite a skating rink underneath the snow and I was slippin' and slidin' like crazy. Then I remembered that a couple of days earlier I had put out some throw rugs on the driveway to help assist folks getting in and out of the house without breaking a hip or other vital body part. (Important note: I REMEMBERED but I didn't DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.) I lumbered gingerly back in the house to put on my trusty Yak Trax and was back at being a Badass Snow Blower in no time.

Until this happened:

Hey, kids! Get "Hungry, Hungry Snow Blower"! New from Mattel!

Yup. Them thar throw rugs was still on the driveway. DUUUUHHHH. So, in case you missed the math: snow blower + throw rug = truly fouled up snow blower.

We haven't tried to fix it yet. Goodness knows if it's going to be a DIY mend or if we will need to call in the Big Guns. Thank goodness this is New Hampshire in January so we surely won't have need for our snow blower anytime soon. Gaaahhhh!

(The intent was to make this a super short post since yesterday's was so long. Sorry about that. I have at least one more Idiot story to share, but it will keep until tomorrow!)

What? You don't have a Jag in your garage?

On Tuesday morning, after hosting Scott's cousin's husband's (is there a prize for the most possessives in a sentence?) "toys" in our garage for a few years (they moved to Germany), we said good bye to the Jaguar and Triumph. Now, I don't anything about cars. I know so little, in fact, that I had never heard of a Triumph before and many times when I talked about it I couldn't think of the name, so I'd say "You know, it's a car that has the same name as that rude dog on Conan..." It took awhile for us to get around to Triumph but we usually got there. Anyway, as I said, I don't know anything about cars but I do know that these are awwwwful purty. They are classics, I think. (That means they're kinda old but not antique, right?) They sat covered in our garage from September 2008 until Tuesday morning. Makes me think about all we've had go on in those almost-four-years and "If these cars could talk..."

The huge, unbelievable, how did we get so lucky bonus in all of this deal was that while we hosted these cars, we also "hosted" their VW Toureg. This beauuuutiful AWD SUV was a complete God send on our crummy road and in our icy/snowy/muddy/unpredictable climate. This car saved our bacon SO many times that I can't count. His cousin's family is moving back to the States and are collecting the stuff that they couldn't take with them overseas.We are hoping that on their next move they can't a practical way to pack and ship, say, their brief cases upon brief cases of hundred dollar bills and we can help them out with that, too. Fingers crossed!

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy, being the professional educator (cough) that I am, I took the day care kids outside to watch and play as they loaded the cars. Physics for two-year-olds! (Or, more accurately, "ooohhhhh, pretty cars!" "ooooohhh! big truck!" But, whatev, Bev.)

The covers were off for the first time in almost 4 years and I thought, "OOOOHHHH, they really are nice lookin' cars!"

Triumph (The Insult Dog?)

'Scuze me, Mister, but that there car's got the steerin' wheel plumb on the wrong side!

Big truck goes broom broom.

Ethan was completely captivated by the events of our morning. (Have I mentioned he is the BEST baby ever??)

The closest I got to both 2-year-olds smiling. (Do you notice one of the is a GIRL?? Such a rare sighting around here I had to look up in a field guide exactly what she was.) Oh, and that adorable fella in front? About 3 hours after this picture, TOTALLY barfed all over the place. Did.not.see.that.coming!

Hmmm... maybe the black cap shoulda made me wonder if he was burgle-ing...

Going UP!

 

P.S. I've neglected to do a "Running While Pregnant" post this week. Got caught up in the ultrasound and other events. There is one coming... it's just not one I'm eager to write. Hint, hint. Siiiggghhhh....

World's Shortest Race Report

Wolfeboro Oil Gift of Warmth 5K.

Hometown race. Good cause.

Was happy to run another race, if a little unsure what this burgeoning belly would allow me to do.

Showed up for registration at 9AM for the 10:30 race.

No one "road runner looking" was there.

I was puzzled.

Scott found a wireless connection and checked his laptop.

The race is NEXT Saturday.

Big. Fat. Dope slap.

Ran about 30 minutes anyway and felt sluggish and tired.

Stupidity can really weigh a girl down.

Just imagine I am the man in red, the sign says "Race is NEXT SATURDAY", and my husband and kids are in the car...

Bridesmaid edition

nuun announced their Hood to Coast team today at 12PM. I was out and about with the boys and my pal Megan and her little boy. She has a phone from the 21st Century so at noon she checked the nuun website to see if I made the cut.

Nope. Two teams listed and five alternates.... but my name wasn't there. I was a little disappointed but not crushed and certainly not surprised. This was my "sign" to work my butt off for that (post-2013 Boston Qualifying) 3:40 marathon in September.

I got home and checked my email. Here's what one of them said:

Hi Phoebe!
When we posted the link on the blog this am for some reason the last line of code wasn't working... so hopefully you got the letter we sent out... the blog announcement is corrected now.

We loved your video!!

Oh. So I'm an alternate. Oh. Huh. Hmmmm. Well.

Oddly, this has me more worked up than the flat out "no". I seem to be in a zone lately of "always a bridesmaid" in a few areas of my life. I think the odds of me getting into the race are pretty close to zip, but I'm happy to have a sliver of a hope.

I needed to think about all this stuff and I didn't have a good way to run today. This morning before Scott left for camp (6:30AM) my body was still aching from Sunday & Tuesday's workouts. Tonight during dinner (when I could skip the camp meal and run while the boys are with Scott) the weather calls for rain/thunderstorms. No, thanks.

So, I let the boys have their screen time and I ran around my yard. It sprinkled pleasantly. Elliott played chase with me for a little while. I discovered lots of spots that I missed with the lawn mower last Saturday. And this video will give you a tour of what I looked at (over and over and over again) for my 30 minute easy run.

I didn't work any of the stuff out that I was thinking about, but I did decide it might be fun to film a lap of it and post it. Cuz that's what you're missing in your life, right? A jerky, dull video of where Phoebe lives?

Enjoy.

Five Things Friday: Elliott Edition

Yesterday was Elliott's fifth birthday. In honor of him, here are five things:

1. Elliott was born Friday, June 16, 2006 at 10:26AM. He was 6 days past his due date. He was a water birth. It was very hard (duh), but SO much easier than his older brother. He was 20 inches long and 7 pounds 8 ounces, which is exactly what my midwife predicted based on feeling my belly the day before I went into labor. (I felt like he would be a good deal smaller than that, actually!) The most notable things about him at birth were that he looked a lot like Gallum from Lord of the Rings ("Preciiiooouuussss") and he had more meconium (the very tar-like poop that a fetus builds up during development) than the veteran nurse had ever seen. Seriously. When he was several hours old we had to just leave him bare naked on the disposable mats (which we kept needing to toss) for like an hour because the stuff just kept coming out non-stop. So, you could say, he was born ugly and full of shit.... However, he has more than made up for that with his trademark adorableness and charm since then!

2. Elliott was (and is) not in a hurry to grow up. He does things only when he's ready. And when he's ready... he's READY. He didn't walk until he was 15 months old (like, not even a step!) but then pretty much walked all the time from there. He potty trained somewhat reluctantly at 3 but has had exactly ONE accident since then, even through the night. He's not interested in learning to ride a two-wheeler, which is fine by me, but it's certainly going to be one of those things that he'll decide he's ready to try and then, bam!, he'll do it. Thankfully, he feels very ready for Kindergarten, which about 3 or 4 months ago he was not at all sure about. (Something about missing his Mommy...)

3. Elliott has an amazing ability to misunderstand the world in a wonderful way. For instance, he heard the daycare kids talking about BB guns. He was very fascinated by the idea because, what's more interesting than a gun that shoots out bees!?! He soaks up new vocabulary and grown up "phraseology" readily. Several months ago we were snuggled up talking about I don't know what and he said, "Oh, Mommy! Speaking of which...." He's forever pointing out and talking about what's "inappropriate" and "ri-dic-lee-ous". Conversation-wise, he truly is a 50-year-old man in a 5-year-old's body.

4. Elliott likes the typical kid foods with a couple of notable exceptions. He TRULY despises ketchup. He likes broccoli. He loves chocolate... but he doesn't like chocolate milk. He doesn't like gum or anything minty (he calls it "too spicy"). And, most oddly, he LOVES hommus. Seriously. Hommus. The stinkier and garlic-ier the better.

5. He's hilarious and knows how to work a room. Even his big brother thinks he's funny, which is saying something.

Tough Grrrl Tuesday... (a day late)

(Stumbled upon free internet access... so here's yesterday's post... I know you've been dying to hear from me!)

We have been camping the last couple of days at Horseneck Beach in Westport, MA. It is a fantastic camp ground for many reasons, but by far my favorite thing is the “dish room” that’s connected to the bathrooms. This makes doing the cook out dishes SO much easier. I’ll have plenty of photos and other info to post when I get home.

Getting up exceptionally early to run is not easy on this trip. I share a tent with Elliott and as soon as you start to unzip the thing, the other person wakes up. So, I’ve had to sleep in and just run after everyone is up. This is not a problem for Scott but it does make me feel a little bad that he gets the brunt end of morning duty.

Monday I did an easy 45 minutes with a few “pick ups” at the end. I don’t know how far they were… maybe 150 meters? Maybe not. The beach has a “heart healthy” trail so it was very convenient and pleasant to run.

Tuesday is my “tough” day and I was scheduled to do a 20 minute warm up followed by 4 x 800 with 400 recoveries in between. I was not feeling great nor optimistic at the start. I was outside all day Monday and didn’t hydrate. I had a couple of beers in the evening. I had basically no water. All that fresh air helped me sleep pretty well despite the rain and the not-quite-5-year-old sharing the space with me but every time I woke up, some body part was asleep and required rolling over and adjusting.

I got up and ate a banana/raisin bran/chocolate chip muffin and had a cup of tea and THOUGHT about drinking some water. Of course I didn’t drink any. I just got going. The warm up was fine at about 9:10 pace. I was nervous about the speed work, afraid that a) I would poop out from lack of hydration and b) I would (literally) poop out because my digestion has been wonky from the camping! The 800s were actually pretty good, though. I was hovering around 7:00 pace for the first three. The last one I decided to go (pardon the expression) balls to the wall. I managed to do run it at 6:40. This was a nice surprise. And I was pooped. And pooped. ☺

I hopped it to the ladies room and then skipped my 15 minute cool down in order to help Scott load up the car for the further adventures of our vacation… which I will share with you soon enough.

Johnny Kelly 1/2 Marathon (sexy!) Pics

There are lots of things you think about during a race. How you're feeling. If you can go faster. If you should go slower. How many miles you've gone. How many you have left to go.

And, there are a few things you don't think about at all. Like, ooohhhh, for instance, how you look. Now, I looked in the mirror before the race and I have to say I looked alright. My pink running skirt and my pink compression knee socks were kinda sassy. My hair was pulled back, I had on a white hat and my running shirt was from the another mother runner collection. It said "Are My Kids Still Chasing Me." Very cute. Lots of great compliments on it.

This race was super humid. You may recall from my last post that after a few miles I started dumping water over my head at each stop. It was the right move. I stand by that statement. However, there's a physiological (or maybe biological?) reaction that ones lady parts have to such, ummmmm, stimulation.

Avert the kids' eyes and see what I mean. Meanwhile, I'll just go in the corner and die a small death of shame.

The Starting Line. I'm in there somewhere. Waaayyyy back!

Waiting for Mom....

Arty shot from EV (Elliott's View). The real photogs always include their finger on the lens.

She IS coming, isn't she??

We'll smile, but seriously, we're starting to doubt she's on her way.

Hey! I know her!! A G-Rated shot, appropriate for all audiences.

Oh, jeeze... is that? Oh, Lord. I think it is....

Seriously. NONE of these people could tell me that I had the WORST kind of THO? They must have been so embarrassed!... But think about ME! (If you don't know what THO is, email me and I'll fill it in for you).

"What's my favorite country? Why, Nip-pal, of course!" I'm holding my bottle of nuun like an ignorant weeny! Gah!

Okay, this might be the only post-race pic that you can show the Grandkids. Sorry, guys. I hope you're not scarred for life! (Dig Elliott's shirt? It says "running. it's a family thing.")

Thanks & Welcome! (oh, and Half Marathon Report)

Thank you SO much to all of you who have recently begun to follow my blog! I am very grateful that you have joined my little band of readers. I’m not entirely sure if increasing my readership will improve my opportunity to be sponsored by nuun to run Hood to Coast, but it sure can’t hurt! And who knows what other events may be around the corner? Having additional eyeballs on this site may afford me things I cannot even predict.

More importantly, I would be very happy and grateful to have your feedback, advice, dumb jokes, enormous sums of money… ya know, whatever ya got! And please, if you are a blogger, send me your link because I certainly want to know what you’re up to.

Okay, on to the race report! (Pictures will be added to this post as soon as I am back in NH... But I took the time to write this at 5AM on Memorial Day so I wanted to get it up ASASWIWA... Or, As Soon As Starbucks Wireless Internet Was Available!)

Yesterday (Sunday) I ran the Johnny Kelly Half Marathon in Hyannis, MA. It was one of 3 races (a 5K and 7.2 race were also organized) at the event. In total there were about 1,500 runners.

We drove down to Cape Cod on Saturday. Lucky for me, my in-laws live in Cotuit, MA so we scored a beautiful and FREEEEE! place to stay for the weekend. Saturday afternoon we took it easy at the house. The boys played in the sprinkler and got me sucked into a fairly intense game of tag. (Intense being relative… they are 7 & not-quite-5…) I got an unsettling headline/vision in my head after a few minutes of this: Local Runner Breaks Ankle Hours Before Half Marathon Because She Was “It”. So, we opted for low-impact Hide & Seek and everyone was happy. Early dinner, early bed and I felt ready for the race.

I woke up at 5AM on race day. I set the alarm for 6 but was not surprised that I was up so early. I forced myself to stay in bed until 5:45 when I heard the boys rattling around. (I love how easily they go to bed at night but WHY do they still wake up before 6AM EVERY day!??) One of the luxuries of G.G. & Papa’s house for them is a TV in their bedroom. So, they suckled on the teet of PBS Kids while I took a shower.

A bagel and nuun drink (Really. I actually drank it. I’m not pandering for their support! Okay, I AM pandering for their support, but I DID actually drink it!), chai tea, and water later, Scott and I were out the door at 7AM. (Another in-law advantage: don’t have to drag the kids to the race start!) We didn’t need to leave so early, come to find out. We had a pleasant enough time waiting for the start on the Village Greens of Hyannis. I only wish we had remembered to bring our "Spot the Kennedy Board Game" to pass the time. (That one is actually made up, by the way).

The BIG news on the start/finish area was the port-o-potties. They had, get this, RUNNING WATER! I couldn’t believe it! Of course, it was still gross, but there were foot pedals to flush the toilet and wash your hands. Amazing. Thankfully, I opted with just 20 minutes to the start to go a second time…. I cut it very close to the gun but WOW there was a lot ‘o pee! (New readers should know, because I’m sure it will come up again, I have a teeny bladder and my only super power is that I always, ALWAYS have a little pee in me. It’s a useless skill, but it’s the only one I’ve got!)

The start was not totally auspicious. After having my first-ever running-related ear drum injury on the start line (I was a little too close to the speaker for the announcements and the Star Spangled Banner), the race began. It wasn’t until after the gun that I realized I had lined up in the 10:00 pace section. Given that I was shooting for under 8:00 pace I got a little nervous. In addition, my Garmin watch (not the fancy kind with the GPS but the less $$ kind with a foot pod to keep your pace & distance) went from timer mode to time telling mode before I hit the start line. I looked down to click it as I went over the start mat and I had yet another teeny heart attack. You should know that this watch is awesome but I am apparently a Monster because I can’t get one to not fall apart on me. I break the wristbands off after just a few months of wearing them. So, the plan is to have this watch in my hand and in my running skirt pocket. The little button to get it into “timer” mode is tricky (I think there is a fine layer of Gu or gels on it). It took me a good :30 or so to get it going. So I’m weaving in and out of 10:00-ers, trying to get the flippin’ flappin’ freakin’ watch to the right mode and BAM, the race takes a sharp left turn after only about 200 yards. AAAAAGGGH!

Things settled down fairly quickly after that. I found a good stride, the first song on the iPod shuffle was “Walking on Sunshine” (hey, cheese motivates me, okay??), the day was overcast and not too, too hot. It was all good. I had planned to keep my watch in my hand for the whole race but I thought back on my last half (in March) when I forgot the watch all together and decided that I would check my pace every mile or so but not be a lunatic about it. (That March race was SO fun, mainly because I had no watch to bark at me.)

The course was flat and seemed to be a slight downhill for the first couple of miles. My Garmin checks showed me going anywhere between 7:20 and 7:45. This was on the fast-side (watch for a future post about the Vortex of Fast and the Vortex of Slow…) but I kept checking in with my body with my age-old question for the first half of long races “Can you do this forever?” and the answer seemed to be “yes.”

I noticed by about mile 4 that the humidity was wearing on me. My stomach felt cramp-ish and I began to get an “uh-oh” feeling. I really wanted to ignore it and keep my pace up because it was manageable. But, I know enough to know that cramps like that are caused by dehydration and will not go away with out fuel/hydration/electrolytes. I slowed down enough to drink some nuun and water from the hydration belt and promised myself I would take a Gu at mile 5.

I kept my pace fairly well (that is, whenever I bothered to check it) as the race wound out of town and down some beautiful back roads, along some bays and estuaries. (There are worse things, for sure, but some of the smells out of these places were, ummm, not my favorite!) The other runners were not terribly chatty and, honestly, neither was I. Unlike the half in March, I had a PR to make and so I was less “me” along the route. I did manage my personal “race manners minimum” and thank all of the Police Officers who were stopping traffic and all the volunteers along the way. I found that any time I did interact with a spectator or volunteer it boosted my spirits, despite of costing me precious energy. It’s a fine line….

Just before the half-way point of the race, those who were running the 7.2 race split off to head for the finish line. There was a woman who I had spotted at about mile 2 who I decided was my Doppleganger (unlike “Crazy Arm Lady” who was surprisingly speedy given her bizarre form and “Totally Intense Based On Nothing But Her Top and Hair Cut Lady” who scared me a little). Doppleganger had a short ponytail, not unlike mine, and although she wasn’t wearing pink knee socks or a running skirt like I was, I felt that we were kindred. Strange how these things work out in our brains. Anyway, I was keeping her in my sights and then she completely broke my heart by veering off for the 7.2! I even yelled to her as she went (we hadn’t exchanged a word before this): “NO! You’re my doppleganger! I was going to stick with you!” She replied, “Not this year. I’m working 80-hour weeks. NEXT YEAR!” It was a funny and sweet moment and TOTALLY the reason I love running road races.

At this point in the race I was getting kind of beat. I was getting VERY hot. I had taken to drinking the Gatorade at each water stop and dumping the cup of water over my head. This lead to my earphones slipping quite a bit but it was DEFINITELY the right call. I think the electrolytes/carbs saved my bacon for sure. My stomach continued to do funny things (I took more Gu at mile 9) but it wasn’t cramping it was just sort of announcing its presence.

I kept my watch in my hand for the final mile. Because of the snafu with my watch at the start I wasn’t sure how far or long I’d really run. My watch was being generous, telling me I’d hit all the final miles long before I reached the marker in the road. I was anxious because despite my periodic glances through out the race telling me I was sub-8:00 (except one rare hill when I was at 8:18) I knew I was cutting the PR very close. There weren’t a lot of runners around me. I passed one woman just after the 12-mile mark and ahead of me by about 20 yards were another man and woman. I was just trying to hold on and did not have the fire in my belly to try and catch them.

The end of the race takes you through a Rotary (a.k.a. traffic circle, a.k.a round-about, a.k.a. “Look, Kids! Big Ben! Parliament!”) and down the Main Drag (but not Main Street) of Hyannis. There weren’t a ton of spectators until the very end. Just as I was starting to see a crowd ahead, my iPod shuffle gave me yet another mini-miracle. Last September as I was finishing my PR/Boston-qualifying marathon, the theme from Indiana Jones came on the iPod. It was the PERFECT song for such a great moment and yesterday, once again, iPod gods favored me with the same song for the end of my race! Can you ever go wrong with a John Williams anthem? I submit that you cannot.

So, I looked ahead and saw Scott and the boys, my in-laws and even Scott’s Aunt Barbara and Uncle Bob who also live on the Cape. The race director was standing at the 13-mile mark and said “You’re at 1:43:58, just 200 yards to go!” I knew from that it was almost impossible for me NOT to break 1:45. (Even if I jogged, my chip time was about 30-seconds behind the gun time so I knew I was cool). I was VERY happy to turn the last corner and finish. Another woman snuck up behind me for a sprint finish and so I turned it up “to 11” for the last 20 yards or so and she and I finished together. Typical of a woman, she apologized for trying to beat me! I assured her it was great and I’m happy she had someone to chase! I know I would have said the same thing to someone if I had finished that way. Why do we apologize for our strengths!?!

Anyway, I wasn’t sure of my exact finish time but I knew for sure I had broken 1:45 and PR’d by at least a minute. Later in the afternoon the interweb told me I had run 1:44:19, I finished 12 (out of 100 or so) in my division and 120 overall (out of 650 or so). My pace was 7:57. I am happy about this.

But…. Well, another post to go into why there’s a “But…”

Thanks for reading and please let me know what’s on your mind!

Follow me, please!

I have a whole schpiel in my head, but I'm gonna try to be brief.

There's a very cool relay race called the Hood to Coast which happens each year in late August. Basically, a bunch of people form a team, rent a couple vans and take turns running a really long way.... (200 miles). Each year there are about 15,000 runners. It happens in Oregon. It starts at Mt. Hood and ends at the Pacific Ocean in Seaside. There's a great documentary about it.

There is an opportunity for me to run this race for free-ish (I'd need to pay my own airfare but the other - fairly hefty - expenses would be paid for). The makers of nuun, an "electrolyte enhanced drink" are going to sponsor a team of Blogging Women Runners.

Just THINKING about this race makes me giddy. As many of you know, I qualified but missed running Boston this year. I feel like this would be beyond Boston as far as life experiences: Travel across the country, meet up with a bunch of like-minded strangers, spend an exceptionally long time in a stinky van with them, run a whole boat load of miles, see the Pacific for the first time in over 10 years.... What could be better??

But the thing is, there are some SERIOUS running bloggers out there. Not only do they have great posts and giveaways and superawesomefun links... They also have a bazillion followers. The application for this opportunity requires the blogger/runner to be creative, which with my warped mind I'm not too worried about. But, if these nuun folks click on my blog and see that I have an embarrassingly small number of followers they won't even consider me. (I mean, it's all well and good to sponsor a bunch of women to run a race, but nuun is, of course, trying to get some publicity out of this!)

So, I'm beggin' ya: Follow me! You don't have to like what I write. You don't have to be interested in my running. But... it sure would be spectacular to have an opportunity to run this race.

And better yet... I'll owe you one. Think of the things you can demand of me....!

More survey, you say?

Why, sure! The Best Damn Running Duo on Earth (Sarah Bowen Shea and Dimity McDowell Davis) are going to be featured in Viv, an online magazine. another mother runner has asked it's Cult Members (ooops, I mean followers) to fill out another survey to help the effort. There's snowballs chance something I said maybe be published. But.... if I put it HERE... it will DEFINITELY be published. Take THAT, Interweb!

Of course you should totally scoot on over to the website and fill out your own survey if you want to be part of the action.

(They also requested 2 photos: a head shot and a body shot. I don't have a real head shot and the last time I took a body shot it was at my Bacherlorette Party and it did NOT end well... But here's what I sent them).


(cuz I just BQ'd!)

(Cuz we just uncorked a bottle of champagne for our 10th anniversary... and why a I just noticing now that my left eye is kinda droopy here. Alas.)

1.How did you get started running?

As a young kid I was a somewhat serious gymnast and rhythmic gymnast. When that got too intense for my adolescent brain/body at age 12, I looked for a sport at which my “perfect” older sister was not already, ummm, perfect. So I joined track. (Joke was on me – the next year she took up track and, naturally, broke all kinds of records and was champion of all things! I really love her, but COME ON!) After high school it was left over inspiration from my senior year's track coach who became a dear friend. She was a runner and OLD (ahem... 32!) and always said how important it was to her. Before her I never knew any adults who ran, like, at ALL!

2. What motivates you to exercise?

From the age of 5 I have always been some flavor of athlete. I feel very lucky that I am a Post-Title IV Chica and never had to beg for equality when it comes to athletic participation. Beyond “sport” though, the most basic facts about my emotional life are I love to eat chocolate and I love to NOT feel like a total lard. Those two truths add up to only one sane response: exercise. Pile on the boost to my self-esteem, a desire to hold on to my not-too-shabby-for-her-late-thirties legs and the example I set for my 2 boys and you get A Lady Who Moves.

3. What do you love about running—what has it done for you physically, mentally, and emotionally?

Oddly enough, my main motivation isn't physical at all. Genetics was kind to me so I don't pack on pounds too severely, even when I am dormant for awhile. Sure, I love feeling myself get more fit and have been known to check out my own quads in post-race photos, but running is definitely about the mental and emotional for me.

There's not a huge running community where I live. I think I love running because it makes me a bit of an odd ball around here: “Oh, you're that runner I see all the time.” I also enjoy it because – relatively speaking – it comes easily to me. Don't get me wrong, I work my tail off, but my frame is fairly small and my form is naturally decent so I don't have to spend a lot of time thinking about it. (Just please please please don't ask me to swim!) I like looking at my calendar of training days and knocking them off one by one and closing in on a race.

Because I run an in-home daycare, running is undoubtedly my single source of sanity some days. By 3:00 on non-run days, I'm toast. Given that I once had – and always thought I would have - a “big girl” career, running and racing are also outlets for me to feel like an accomplished human being as opposed to “the day care lady”. When I'm on a run I remember that soon, my kids will be in school full time. Soon, I will uncover the vocation that was meant for me. Soon, the world will benefit from my greatness! But for right now... let's see what we have in the tank to rock this hill!

4. What tips can you offer other women to stick with exercise, to squeeze it in?

I can't profess to be one of those ladies who jumped right back into running after I had kids. I was a very casual runner after my first child and until my second (and last) was about 2, I really didn't Train Like a Mother. So, anyone who is spending their nights nursing a fussy baby or Ferberizing... well, from me you get a pass. If you can do it, I bet running would be a huge help to you. But after the kids are sleeping through the night, I say, Go Get 'Em, Girl.

With my husband's schedule, I can't imagine fitting in a workout if I didn't get up at 4:30 or 5AM. For me, it works. And it has gotten easier and easier as the habit has gotten older. I can't remember how many days in a row you have to do something before it becomes a habit – I'm sure Google knows – so I say, challenge yourself to simply get through that many days of exercise and see how you feel about it when you're done.

The other mistake I've seen people make again and again is to be overly zealous in the beginning and burn out. The first weeks of running can be like a new relationship and you just want more, more, more! But you HAVE to schedule in rest days and you HAVE to keep your mileage increases to a reasonable amount week-to-week . Otherwise... illness, injury, frustration.... and back to square one.

5. Are you training for a race or have you done one in the past? What is especially helpful about racing?

I find that I almost always have to have a race on the horizon. If I don't, I get lazy about running and then my whole life – mentally, physically & emotionally - becomes hard. So, I have to have a “next”. The most helpful thing about racing is the motivation it gives you to keep training. It's also simultaneously ego-boosting (“I can't believe I just passed that kid.... He can't be more than 25!”) and humbling (“Good God, that lady has to be at least 60 and she's kicking my ass up this hill!”). A road race is so full of characters and back stories (most of which you have to make up in your head since you can't get to know these strangers beyond what they put on their racing shirt)... It's like the best night of television EVER! And you get to have it almost as many times a year as you want.

6. What role does the another mother runner/Run Like a Mother: The Book social media world play for you with your running?

I cannot overstate the role Run Like a Mother: The Book and another mother runner play in my running-life.... and my life-life! I am (partially by choice and partially by circumstance) a lone wolf when I run. I don't have a running buddy or running group that I meet up with . Ever. So all the amazing Mamas on the Facebook page and website act as my running partners. The Tribe has every conceivable type of running Mom. I have an opportunity to ask (sometimes awkward!) questions and I always get insightful, good humored and well-intended feedback from those who have dealt with my problem-of-the-week. It's also a safe place to lament a poor showing at a race or “celebrate your awesome” when things go your way. I also have a chance to respond to other runners who need a virtual attagirl, hug, or glass raised. Since The Tribe is so vast in number, there's always someone who's been where I am and there's always someone who might benefit from my experience. And always, ALWAYS, there's room for a good laugh at ourselves and how we cope. The weekly “Follow This Mother” feature on the website is a great favorite, too, because I have been able to find and get to know even better many, many Sole Sisters.

7. What is it about the another mother runner/Run Like a Mother: The Book community that helps/supports/inspires/entertains you?

Much of this addressed in question 6, but here's a bit more:

Opportunity for giving and getting feedback.

Shared sense of purpose... “Run! (For Your Life!)”

Links to great resources for training, races, music...

Perfect mix of irreverence and sweetness.

Never-fail, always-there, amazing-how-they-do-it, relevant-and-inspiring new posts daily! How do they DO that!??!

Chocolate

I have been without dark chocolate chips in the house since Saturday. It's KILLING me. Mind you, I have not been without chocolate. I had a glass of chocolate milk yesterday. And there's still a bunch of mini candy bars left over from the Candor trip in April..... So I've been destroying those.

And yet, I feel so out of sorts without these dark chocolate chips. I eat them every morning in my oatmeal. I eat them throughout the day when I need to do something other than bang my head against the wall or scream at small children. I eat them with sun butter. I eat them in cold cereal. I eat them in every way imaginable. They are - at times - my best friend.

I am constantly hungry. I am constantly cranky. I am constantly trying to think of what will fill the void.

My normal diet of 9.000 lbs of chocolate chips a week does not seem to have a negative effect on my physical fitness/well being. I weigh about a buck twenty pretty consistently. In the last 3 days without chocolate chips I've actually GAINED weight, probably due to searching for a substitute for my dear, precious, dark chocolate chips.

So, you say, why would I deny myself? And I'll tell you: Love.

Scott can't stay away from them either. He's been in the habit of eating them every night with peanut butter. His life-of-service does not allow him to selfishly get up at scary o'clock to workout. Therefore, when HE eats the chocolate chips, they really add up. And so, last Friday night as we were discussing the shopping list, he said "How 'bout NOT getting more chocolate chips."

I thought it was kidding.

He wasn't.

And so, for My Love.... I suffer.

Twelve more cents accounted for!

You may have heard I kind of like to run.
You may also have heard that I have 2 children, whom I also kind of like.
The demands of these two very likable things sometimes conflict. Enter, SBS and Dim....

About a year ago I found a great article in Runners World magazine by these two women/moms who talked about how to balance running and mom-ing. It was funny and dead on and pretty darn inspiring. The article, as it turned out, was excerpts from a book that they had written. I smelled a Mother's Day present and promptly (okay, like a month and a half later) bought it.

Cut to last Friday. I had a great opportunity to interview the authors, Sarah Bowen Shea and Dimity McDowell, for their first-ever podcast! (This is where that title comes from. I used about 12 cents of my Ithaca College Park School of Communications degree in broadcast journalism).... See, in the year since I first read the book I've sort of, ummm, joined the cult. Now, they call it a a TRIBE of Mother Runners. But I think Cult is far more hilarious. Anyway, Sarah (also known as Champy and SBS) and Dimity have done an amazing job of marketing their book and bringing together legions of Mamas (and Mama supporters). They have a fantastic Facebook page and blog. Literally THOUSANDS of people's lives have been touched by this book and the accompanying website and FB page. And since I got nothin' better goin' on.... Well, sign me up!

I had a chance to meet and run with Sarah last summer when her book/running tour took her to Cape Cod. We immediately found that we shared a very sarcastic sense of humor, a competive side and an appreciation for a glass of wine following a run. We've been in touch since via email and FB and we check in after races we run on the phone. She noticed that I enjoy a good "nyuk-nyuk" and honored me by asking me to be the host for their premiere podcast. And so... TA DA! Last Friday afternoon/evening, via Skype and sitting in 3 different homes in 3 different states and 3 different time zones.... We did the interview. You can listen here. (You have to scroll down a bit and then you'll see a pic of me and Elliott...)

And finally, here's a pic of SBS and me enjoying a glass of Pinot Grigio of a sweaty Cape Cod run.... which I can't make bigger without getting super blurry. Trust me. We're gorgeous.