Tabula Rasa

Well, guys, I think I did it.  As I set out for my last run of 2017 - 7 miles of complete perfection for a total of 1558 miles in 2017 - I formulated a blog post.  Ready to rock.  Here I sit, post run, post shower, taking my 2018 intentions into play and taking my damn 10 minutes.  For me.  Yes, I showered.  You're welcome.

I also think, that for the first time in 7 years (how is my blog this old?!?) I actually repeated a title of a post.  Back in the day, when I blogged 4-5 times a week ( I swear this happened and have no idea how) I would wrack my brain for new title ideas and vigilantly check to make sure I didn't duplicate.

I'm over it.  The title is too appropriate and something I have always thought was such a neat concept - a blank slate.  Although most people talk about it in the new school year, as adults, the new year is such a great time to just.....start over.  Just friggin do it.  And while I am not a huge fan of resolutions, just like I don't believe in "diets" (don't get me started there) the concept of leaving 2017's garbage back in 2017 is just too damn appealing. 

Don't get me wrong.  While I have enjoyed the hell out of crapping on 2017, I do need to give it some credit (written for posterity!)  2017 was so. damn. hard.  Honestly, probably one of the worst years of my life.  But it taught me a few really important things that have paved the way for what I KNOW will be a successful 2018.  Know why?  Because I'm ready to face it that way.  To truly leave 2017 in 2017 and to walk into 2018 with the way I want it to be to the best of my ability.

2017 lessons....you are there.  You taught me...

Hard work is hard.  It's friggin hard.  2017 was a goal setting year.  To pave the way for dreams.  A penny pinching, living each day with intention of an all consuming goal.  What was it?  Honestly, I was afraid to say it.  I'm not afraid any more.  I am proud.  As of 12/26, Greg and I paid off our mortgage.  WE OWN OUR OWN HOME.  We bought this house in 2009 and have faithfully paid the bills every month, staring at that big, scary number.  Well, 2018 brings with it some big dreams we have and that number...needed to be gone.  So we did it.  In more ways that I can explain in one post, we managed to pay off over a third of our home's value in one year.  I promise, I will share what worked for us.  But it was hard.  So very hard.  Worth it?  Right now I would say yes!

I also learned that hard work isn't always appreciated.  Honestly, if I took away one thing from this year....I felt taken advantage of.  A lot.  At home, at work, and in a few other areas of life.  I was told many times that I might have unrealistic expectations, and maybe I do.  Maybe my concept of being a "nice guy" is really a projection of how I want to be treated.  Maybe many things.  But I intend not not be an asshole in 2018, but...to not always say yes.  To not always step in and be the "hub".  It's not fair.  I surround myself with grown, competent adults who don't need to be mommied, and two toddlers that do.  It's time to step back and realize that perhaps my ideas of what needs to happen aren't always necessary and that I might be putting quite a bit of effort into things that don't even matter.

2017 also taught me that there is love in so many unexpected places.  I fell apart spectacularly a few times and the people that picked me up were not who I thought they might have been.  Which brings me to 2018 with hope in my heart and love and openness for the kindness of not exactly strangers (Thank you Blanche DuBois) but for those angels in my life who really have a place in 2018 for my love an attention.  Really, you know who you are.  You may have saved me this year, even if you don't realize it.

So, 2017.  There you go.  You sucked.  But like most sucky things, you taught me some really important things.  That some things are worth it, some aren't.  That some people are worth it, and some are best left to their own devices.

And I walk into 2018 unencumbered and ready to pursue my dreams.  Am I afraid of hard work?  Not in the slightest.  I live it.  It's time to start living with that beautiful, blank slate (with the crib notes from the life lessons, not the garbage, tucked safely away in my back pocket).

Happy New Year!

But did you die?

Much like the elusive meme (that honestly, really isn't all that funny) that somehow still is on the interwebs, I feel the need to explain, yet again, that no, I didn't die.  Didn't fall off of a cliff during my week off in November (SIX FREAKING WEEKS AGO), didn't quit my job, didn't run off the with pool boy  to Tahiti (we don't even have a pool, so there's that) , didn't join a cult and live out my days drinking cherry koolaid (blech).

I am here.  And I am lazy.  Nah, that's not true.  I'm still the same crazy me, but with tons of bloggo thoughts stored up that spit themselves out into thoughtful, introspective posts while I am banging out 8 mile tempo runs on the treadmill (started out TWSS, then I fooled you, didn't I?) but somehow, when I shower (I do that) and get back to my computer, either a toddler jams a green marker into my mouse (that happened) or lunch "break" is over and they actually expect me to work sometimes at my job (no lie).  And the post, with all of my infinite nuggets of wisdom, just disappears.  Poof. 

I often wonder if Martin Luther King Jr would have actually penned his "I Had a Dream" speech if he had kids.  Oh wait.  He had 4.  I AM A SLACKER!!

Regardless, it's that time.  Time for 2018.  2017, you sucked.  See ya.  Don't let the door hit you on the way out (wait, do.  You suck).  And, even though those that know and love me are aware of my resolution thoughts....

Yeah, I'm not making them.  But I do plan to try to bring 2018 into a year to remember fondly.  And that starts with a nice little nugget that oddly enough sprang from my work performance appraisal.  To chill.  Yep, you got it. (I'm not kidding.  That was one of my things to work on.) To realize that in fact, not all of the monkeys or circuses are mine.  Nope.  To realize that there are things I can control, things I can't, and enough wine to know the difference (see what I did there?).  You got it right. 

And it all starts with ten minutes.   Ten minutes to stretch.  To actually dry my hair (seriously...in the last month I have done this more that in all of 2017.  And it's blowing people's minds, which must mean I look like a hot damn mess 99% of the time.  Yech).  To watch a podcast (slightly obsessed with TED talks).  To...write a blog post.  Wait, what?  Yeah.  I know.  Pics or it didn't happen.  Moral of the story, I deserve ten.  Ten a day, or ten a few times a day. 

So here's to ten.  And hopefully not ten days...weeks...or months....until I show some blog love.  Cause really, I do.  Promise.

Happy end of 2017 - Have a wonderful New Years and let's make 2018 .....fabulous!  Crap....I almost said great again.  (Excuse me while I go jump off a bridge).  We're just gonna make it awesome.  AWESOME.  I SAID AWESOME. 

If you don't know where you are going, how will you know when you get there??

See, here's the thing.  We all know I've had my whiny little episodes about 2017.  In general, I've pretty much been that annoying person that seems to have nothing to bitch about but seems to always be grumpy - at least in my estimation. How annoying.

  I know life is never perfect.  And when one piece seems to fall into place, at least one other goes to hell.  Welcome to living, right??

But there's been a lot this year.  A lot of areas that seem to be either making no sense, going to hell, or are day by day changing so fast that I can't keep track and I throw up my hands in frustration trying to.  Take a deep breath, buttercup, and hop on.  It's life.

So I've been doing what I do best - taking it day by day, running my ass off, and hanging on.  Talking to close family and friends - god bless you people that listen to my endless ranting about the same. damn. things. And living my life as it comes to me.

Last night, I was playing around on Pinterest, trying to figure something out - admittedly - decor wise in the house.  I was looking at pithy signs to redecorate our living room, when I came across a print that said "If you don't know where you are going, how will you know when you get there?"

Wait, stop.  Stop for a second.  I know it may sound trite, but this one little sentence was a total truth bomb for me. And it started to make some sense.

In terms of the literal day by day, I am awesome at knowing where I am going.  For a run.  To a meeting.  Grocery shopping.  A coffee date. Giving the kids a bath.  Bam.  Wherever you go, there you are.

I also know where I am going in 2018....in terms of race goals.  I rock at those.  3rd Ironman - can we PR?  YES!  2020 - let's Boston Qualify!

Finances?  Yep.  On it. We have a solid plan for what we need to do to live now, 5 years from now, and retirement.

The rest?  Oh hell no.  I used to do this.  I had a vision board.  I saw myself as a bride, buying a house, having kids, and kicking butt in the workplace.

But what do you do when those obvious things are all crossed off? What's next?

I took out my old board, created in 2007.  I saw the white dress.  The picket fence.  The corporate ladder.  The two kids (no lie).  The 140.6 sticker.  And, admittedly from the chubby teenager insecurites, the picture of someone rockin' a two piece on the beach.

Do we see an issue here?  I do.  I am, to put it bluntly, stuck.  I got to a place in my life where my vision board has been realized, and I haven't evolved beyond it, in terms of growing.  I've contented myself with the day to day living, which certainly has it's place, but nowhere does it inspire dreams, risk, and the vivaciousness that I miss about life.  It's certainly understandable, with two toddlers, a full time job, and a husband that works 80 hours a week.  But it's never going to move me beyond being "stuck".

Sometimes diagnosing the damn problem is truly the first part to fixing it.

So I' taking some time this week.  Time for myself.  I pulled out my old magazines, and went to the dollar store and bought a poster board and art supplies.

It's time to create.  And reinvent.  To visit my old dreams, look at my bucket list, and figure out what in the hell really makes me tick.

And then you know me.  I'm gonna go the hell after it.

A Journey to the Top (or what's new for 2018)

With 2017 winding down (thank freaking god, did this year suck as bad for anyone else??) I find it fitting to do what any sane person does when confronted with a crappy year....look ahead to what can only be a better upcoming year.  Usually folks wait until the last week of December, but being the forward thinker (ahem) I am, I decided to take the bull by the horns and wrestle 2018 into submission before it decided to follow suit with 2017, that nasty little shit.

This idea started a few months back, so excuse my delinquency, but I had a few mitigating circumstances that delayed the full story :)  Every year, Greg and I watch Lake Placid Ironman with the fondness of our memories there in '10 and '11 - a sort of mixture of remembering pre kids when we could do that shit...and remembering when we were in shape to do that shit!  We hoped to do an Ironman together someday - when Rob and Biz head off to middle school and don't need us as much.  When we sleep through the night.  When Greg isn't working 80 hours a week.  When I am not travelling every week for work.  Ya know.  Life.

Fast forward to the next week.  Registration for 2018 Ironman comes out.  It's the 20th anniversary for Placid.  New promos!  Deferral to 2019 is penalty free till June!  Lower prices for Tri club members!  And...it's on Greg's birthday.  Specifically, his 40th. 

Now, you have to understand that in our marriage, I am the one that comes up with the dumb ideas.  Like hey- how about I do a tri 5 weeks post partum?  Hey!  Let's drive 13 hours with a toddler and run a marathon the next day!  Or even better - let's fly across the country and run a half in the pouring rain the next day?  Ya know.  Things like that.  So I shoot Greg an email telling him we totally should do IMLP 2018.

You know what happened next.

He said "Why not"??  (Dude, you totally dropped the ball on your role).

Gut check.  So many reasons not to.  So many damn. good. ones.  We talked about it.  We thought about it.  We listed out all the bad reasons in the world that parents of two toddlers should not, in fact, dually train for an Ironman.

Then we signed up.

Cause life is too short.  And what else would you do on your 40th "over the hill" birthday than aim to rise for the top? (Of ridiculous climbs??)

That's for Greg.

For me, it's a way to turn the bus around.  This year has been so, so hard for me.  On so many fronts.  There have been times when I have thought hard about walking away and/or just giving up on it all (well, most of it). But then I put sneaker to pavement and it just all makes sense.  Sometimes I can think of a a way to fix whatever is ailing me - my job, my marriage, my ability to find an extra hour to actually do the damn laundry.  Sometimes I can't.  Sometimes I just get that 3....or 6...or 10 miles of serenity to just breath in the air and be at peace with the world.

And that, for me, is what Lake Placid is.  It's the scene of where I first became an Ironman.  It's my happy place.  It's the place to just breathe and be happy, to be alive, to be so very grateful for the opportunity.

And I can't freaking wait.  To train in the pain cave.  To swim at 5am.  To go for evening runs, and reclaim my life one piece at a time.

And did I mention, to party with about forty of my closest tri friends?  Seems everyone has a very definitive "why" for this race - and it will be a Roc party in Placid!

Until then, it's one day at a time.  A journey, if you will, that promises to be every bit as sweet as the actual destination. 

July 22, 2018.  My 3rd Ironman - and you know what they say about the 3rd time!

Lakeshore Marathon 2017 - F$ck the Tangents

State #7 complete.  For some reason I had it in my head that it was #9, conveniently forgetting the half marathons don't count.  Whoops!  On Oct 1, I ran the Northern Ohio marathon to finish off that state for my 50 state plus DC quest to see the country while racing.

Why this race?  It's 4 hours away.  It was $26 for the race.  And....it was the day before my birthday.  All wins.  Grandma agreed to watch the kids, so I even had a chauffeur.  And by luck of last  minute hotel cancellation and Air BnB searching, we ended up with an entire house right on the damn course for $45.  Right on picturesque Lake Erie in Mentor, OH (sense the half sarcasm).

My new Street in Mentor (lol)

Going into the race, I didn't have giant expectations - I had been running fast, but not far.  My long run was 15 miles, because....life, and I averaged about 40 mpw, which I know is enough, but not enough long runs to do damage.  I guesstimated about a 4:15, of course figuring if I felt awesome, I would re-adjust and do as I always do - go out too fast and then figure it out at mile 10.  Ahhh, I do these for fun, right??

Day before the race, we left for Mentor and arrived about 3pm.  Drove the course - flat except an unknown at mile 22-24 which was off road trail (how bad could it be?  BAD) and about 40 turns, which would haunt me later.  Drove back to air bnb (at mile 21!) and got a pizza, which seemed like a good idea at the time (it was not).  We then got the brilliant idea to drive to Cleveland, which was about 45 minutes away, where Greg used to live.  He showed me his old place, and haunts, and we drove back, where I ate another piece of pizza (is anyone keeping track of my bad decisions yet?) 7 hours in a car - check.  4 pieces of greasy pizza - check.  And then I discovered my race socks had a hole in them, so I got new ones...from the dollar store.

Really, this is my comic relief race report.  Spoiler alert - only 1 of these decisions was bad (it was the pizza).

Race morning dawned clear and cold at about 45 degrees.  I donned my new outfit (oh, did I mention my singlet was new, too?), ate my oats, took my Imodium (insurance!) and smeared chap stick on my hot spots (yep, forgot the body glide).  And off we went.  Arrived to race site an hour beforehand, froze my ass off with 400 other people, and we were off.

Miles 1-6 I averaged about an 8:20 pace, which of course is perfect for a half and way too freaking fast for a full.  Felt great.  I saw Greg on the course at mile 6 and waved, kept on my way.  Ate an applesauce pouch at mile 7, taking in Gatorade at every aid station - perfect.  The first 6 miles had a few rollers, nothing crazy.

Miles 7-11 slowed to about an 8:30, still felt great!  I ran for awhile with the 3:45 pacer, feeling pretty baller, until my stomach began to clench.  WTF.  I'll spare you the details, but the port o potty at mile 12 was my best friend - first time since 2013 I porto stopped in a race and prayed it wouldn't be like the "oikos half" where greek yogurt made me stop 4 times in 3 miles.  It wasn't.  Phew.  Still...immodium....YOU FAILED.

Hit mile 13.1 in 1:51, which probably wasn't good, as it's only a minute off my PR....I potty stopped...and had 13 miles to go.  Shit.  Oh well.  I lagged a bit the next 5k, took in a gu to get some sugar, shook out my arms, and got back with it.  I caught the pacer for 3:45 for a bit at mile 16, and even got to hold his sign while he shook off a layer.  I'm such a bad ass.  I was running with about 8-10 other guys at this point, when we had to cross the road ( a busy 4 lane road).  The cops monitoring the crossing waved us by, and we kept going to the end of the road.  Where...there was no one.  WHAT.  We looked left, nothing.  Looked right...runners!  So we turned right.  As we got closer, we realized that all the runners were coming out of a sub development which meant...we cut the course.  SHIT.  I realized this, yelled it out to the guys, and hightailed it back to the missed turn. 

I was the only one. 

Which pissed me off.  I let the cop know what happened (as I came running like a bat out of hell from the wrong direction!) , and he apologized and waved me back in.  My garmin clocked 16.6, and I had no clue where I was or how much I tacked on, but I kept going.  Mile 17.  but....not on the course.  Shit.  I finally hit mile 17 on the course at 17.7 on my garmin, which means I tacked on about 6 minutes and almost 3/4 of a mile...getting lost. 

So, f$ck the tangents.  HOW THE HELL DID I RUN OFF COURSE?? 

I was mad.  Mad at myself, though I reminded myself that there was a zillion turns on this course and It was unfamiliar.  Mad at the cops?  Nope.  It was my responsibility to know where I was going.  Mad at the other racers?  Hell yes.  get some integrity.  They all got about a half mile benefit.  Mad at the pacer?  UM, YES.  Know the course and the people you are leading.  Lame.  I will be honest here....for about .3 seconds I debated going straight and cutting.  But...I didn't come here to run 95% of a marathon, dammit. 

Way to pep talk, right?  I wish I could say it worked.  It didn't.  For the next 3 miles, I kept getting madder and madder as every gamin chime meant I had to run almost a mile more.  I hit "my" mile 20 in 2:55, which was plenty of fucking time to PR.  3:02 on the race course for mile 20.  Guess what?  Still could have.  But I threw a damn temper tantrum.  Met up with Greg at mile 21 where he was waiting outside the house and gave him a piece of my mind, which he nicely listened too and was appropriately consoling.  I'm sorry to say it went over like a man consoling a woman in labor.  Hell to the no.

Now, legitimately, I started to feel like crap at mile 22.  I was averaging about 10 minute miles here and looked down and realized....if I ran a 4:06 or better, but still came out over 4....I would be even madder at my mis direction.  So I decided not to.  I don't care about my time.  I hurt.

Yes, I agree.  I was acting like my 4 year old.  But it's the truth.

At mile 23, we turned out to the 2 mile stretch on the trail which was....on sand.  And rocks.  And all uphill. 

Lights up!

Well, that was the last straw.  My 10 minute miles became 12 minute miles.  Hit mile 24 in 3:52 (race mile 24, my garmin can just go to hell), and I half talked myself out of this mood.  I pulled it together and ran it in the park in 4:12 - respectable for my training and good enough for 5th place in my age group (out of 32), 37/162 for women, and 142/354 for the whole race.

I was pretty annoyed with my 'tude in the race, but it's fair to say that things get raw on the course and it was 100% a learning experience.  I grabbed my cool light up medal and we bounced, before I could see of those lame assed cheaters I ran with at mile 16.

Worth it?  You bet.  The shirt was cool, medal epic, and we crossed off another state.  I also learned that tangent running doesn't mean $hit if you...get lost on the course.  Which is sort of obvious but with the big deal of 26.2 never being achievable (its usually 26.3-4 depending on tangent running)...it means squat if you tack on extra course.  My run ended up being 27.1 miles, which....means I ran an ultra!  Right?  AMIRIGHT?

Greg and I drove home, a slightly painful 4.5 hours but also a great catch up time.  Then I got home to an early birthday gift from my team at work.....

Love these guys.  They are my people.

All in all, an interesting race, to say the least, and quite the wrap up to 2017!  Looking forward to a relaxed, no training approach to October, then it's time for 2018 planning!!  I CAN'T WAIT!

Finger Lakes Tri 2017: And the run stands alone!

Ambitious goal - write race post the day after race.  Realistic goal - write it that week.  Reality?  Same month.  Meh.  It happens.  I sort of debated not even writing one, but hey, I suppose a PR (spoiler alert) deserves a damn race report.  Plus, perhaps reading this will make me ride my damn bike to prep for 2018. 

I suppose I just gave it away, but hey, we will meddle with details....so I can ramble.  Ok?  Thanks :-)

Tri season 2017 ended (wait, it began?) with Finger Lakes Tri 2017.  Back in 2014 I PRed with a 2:54 on this course and was reasonably confident I could beat....at least my run time.  I think I've swam about 10 times this year and biked,,,maybe just a few more.  Wait, you have to do all 3 in a tri?  Dammit.

Well, we started out the right way.  I googled my race report from 2014.  Looked up my previous times to see if I could beat them.  Laughed.  Stalked last years race results to see what I needed to place in my AG (2:59-doable) 2:51 (meh).  Legit prep, people.  I also rode my bike around the block for the first time since June to check gears, cause clearly I can cycle through all of them in .30 miles, right?  Right.

Race morning dawned at 3:30 and it was...cold.  Like, hand warmer cold.  Like, those asshats dedicated athletes at Lake Placid would probably be doing their 70.3 swim leg by walking on water.  Brr.  Greg and I loaded up, debated sleeping in (Gramma took the kids) decided $200 was too much for a late morning, and were off.  We set up our crap (can do this in our sleep), peed a zillion times, and hung out with some friends until our wave starts - me at 7:19 and Greg an hour later.  Poor guy.

Swim:  32:xx - This was 2 minutes better than 2014, which I didn't deserve in the slightest.  The water was cold AF, I didn't warm up, and I wore goggles that I probably have had since 2015.  I should also mention that there is a 1/4 mile run on gravel to T2, so I'm feeling less and less pathetic as I go on with this.  Sighted like $hit, hyperventilated when I stuck my head in the water for the first time, floundered around like a fool, and still hit land in 30 minutes and change.  Score.

Bike:  1:25:xx ish ish.  I don't recall exact time except to say it was lame as hell and I need to get my ass on my new bike, who is much cooler than I deserve (only her second ride in a race and she is already much cooler than me!)  I never felt horrible, tried my best to stay focused, got pissy because I can't figure out tri mode on my garmin (did I practice? NO).  About the only good thing I can say is A) I didn't ride scared, and B) I put in full force Gatorade in my hydration system, which helped a ton with calories...yay for me Greg for making me buy it.  Thanks Babe.  Aside from a few cold miles, I felt pretty good off the bike, till I realized I couldn't feel my feet and spectacularly crashed as I dismounted.  WHAT A ROOKIE.  I like to pretend that cost me a good 5 minutes, but it's a lie and I racked into T2 2 minutes slower than in 2014.  Even. 

Me n my new pal 

Run:  I looked at my watch heading out and was at a 1:59, so I knew a 54 minute10k was possible - course is flat as flat.  But I squinted about 10 minutes in and couldn't read my watch again.  No mile markers.  How the hell fast am I going?  DAMMIT.  At the same time, my right arch started to throb.  I had been so worried about my left ankle, which was rocking a giant open wound (thanks, run shoes!) that I was pretty pissed that I now felt like there was a pebble in my right shoe, my good foot, right under my arch.  Stop?  NOPE NOPE NOPE.  About the time I was getting annoyed with myself, I ran by a guy who called out Hey, where's the fire?  Then trotted up to me and proceeded with one lame joke after another.  He looked to be in his early 50's, great spirits, and fun to run with.  So we connected, bad jokes and all (Thanks Doug!) He old me he was clocking 8:00-8:15 miles - perfect.  We spent the next 4 miles talking (mostly him), telling lame jokes at aid stations to volunteers (Who liked the skeletons new outfit?  NO-BODY!) and had a great time.  I had no idea what the clock was doing until we rounded the last 1/4 mile and I saw 2:47 in my watch...OHMYGOD I can beat 2:50!  I told Doug, he yelled he was gonna chase me, and it was on.  I passed about 4 people to run it in in 2:49:28, with a.....48:12 10k.  Seriously???  A new PR.   For Olympic and 10k.  YESSS!!!!

Overall, I ended up placing 7th woman (I think) out of 50, and I won my AG (35-39) which sounds super impressive until I tell you....I was the only one in it.  WHAT?  Now usually, my AG is super competitive, and there were 7 people in it last year.  I would have beat them all.  Of course, they probably knew I was coming, cause I am fearsome like that.  Or not.  But...more nut butter for me.

Also a big HOO-RAY to Greg, who won the Clydes division for the sprint tri (there were way more than 3 people in it) and to my friend Kim, who placed 3rd OA for the Olympic!   She and I have it worked out...Ill ctach a ride with her next time and give her a piggy back on the run.  Sounds about right to me.

Overall, a great end to tri season 2017 and a good intro to what's to come in 2018....I wonder what that could be?  (Wiggles eyebrows)

Number two is TWO!

What a title.  I'm sorry, I just can't even.  I looked up and here it is, 8 days post Bizzle B day and I haven't posted - what is up with me?  (Besides tendonitis, a huge event for work, and a party for my kiddo).  Lame, Rae, lame.  So, per excuse 1, we gonna keep the words brief and the pics abundant.  Happy birthday, baby (not so baby girl!!)

One week old

One year old!

My big two year old!

Size - 27 pounds.  Baby girl, you eat ALL THE THINGS.  All of them.  Especially the meat, eggs and cheese.  You may be your mommy's girl in some respects, but that ain't it....

Likes: You adore giraffes.  Ice cream (AHH KEEM).  Your swing set.  Dancing.  Hanging out with Rob (and copying everything he does!)  Being a daredevil- nothing scares you (OMG Biz).  Watching the Babies (Word Party) and "Shiny" (just the song). Waking up at 4am (Bizzzzz)

Dislikes: Sleeping alone (I hear ya kid).  When Rob won't play with you (sometimes, you are a pain.  I won't lie). Having your hair washed or combed (did someone say tomboy??)

Sleep: Yeah.  We will just skip right over this one, babes.  You have a few good nights (they are all at Gramma's house) but it seems you know your parents are suckers.  At 10pm.  At midnight. At 3am.  At 4:30.  Elisabeth Jennifer, I have not SLEPT IN 5 YEARS.  But I love you.  It's a darn good thing I do.

Eating: All the things.  Every. Little. Thing.  COOOOOKIES, Ah KEEM, eggos, 'cakes (pancakes), cheese, apples, peanuts, pretzes, popkin, chicken, trees (broc)- you love it.  You are a human garbage disposal and I hope you keep it up!!!

Milestones/Firsts:

Running - you ran your first kids race and love it!  You are so cute when you run, arms a kimbo.
Big girl bed- we outted that crib a few months back.
Counting to 10 (people cannot believe you are only two)
Plane ride - to Kansas and Missouri!  You go girl!
Riding your trike - You love trying to catch Rob

Probably more, but those are the biggest :)

Best Moment: You everyday 'mooches.  You give the best hugs and smooches and are such a little love.  Aww Biz, I am so lucky to have such a wonderful kiddo.

Looking Forward to: Our family trip to Maine next month, Halloween, the best Christmas ever, and experiencing every little day with you and your brother - you two are are simply the best kids a mom could ever ask for and I love you!!

Oak Tree Half Marathon 2017 - Mud Party

So, the beauty of racing back to back weekends is....you actually finally get my damn race reports while they are still relevant!  And, as an added bonus, no crying into my cherrios over life woes in this post.  Double win.  How can you go wrong?

So, tomorrow, Greg and I are racing the Finger Lakes Tri as a season tri closer (can I even say that when we've only done two this year?  Maybe).  It's a lackluster multi sport year, but big things loom in 2018.  I'll leave that one right there for you to ponder.  More later.

As a last minute decision, I decided to race the Oak Tree Half in Geneseo last Sunday - my alma mater.  While I only ran to he keg back in '04 when I graduated, it's pretty cool to run through my college town and get nostalgic, all for a pretty decent price and a nice timing for a tune up for my fall marathon (Northern Ohio, October 1).  I last ran this race in 2011 as prep for Ironman Maryland (when it was still unbranded) and recalled it as a challenging, hilly race that was fun, but not fast. So, just for kicks, here is my 2011 report.  It's ironic.  We will get back to that one. I finished in 1:59 back in 2011, 9 minutes off my PR of 1:50:09, a time that still irks me to this day because who can't find 10 friggin seconds to go under 1:50?  This girl.

Moving on.

Race day dawned bright and early at the ungodly hour of 2:30am.  No, my alarm didn't wake me.  The un shut uppable 2 year old did.  Thanks, Biz.  While she wasn't grumpy, she was wide awake and ready to go, so I started my pre race ritual of coffee and bathroom....3 hours early.  And, to add some fun to the mix, the 95% chance of rain did not disappoint - there was a fine shower starting outside that didn't let up until 11 or so (race time - 8am).  The course....8 miles of dirt, rocks and mud.  Yesss. Albeit a rocky start, Greg and I set off at 6am, did one potty stop, and managed to grab our gear and line up at 7:55 for the 8am start.

Garmining up, waiting for the RD and ....with no fanfare, a big horn blast...holy crap, we are off!

Miles 1-3 were all raod, with some rollers, and a tour through town (dancing bear still intact!)  I maintained a 7:45-7:55 pace, which was way to fricking fast, but about par.  I felt pretty damn good.  At mile 4, we pulled off the road and the mud slog began.  Mile 4 featured a sharp descent, about 3/4 a mile long (which, spoiler alert, was mile 11....coming back up).  It wasn't too wet yet but you needed to run a fine line to keep traction and off the rocks.

Miles 5-7 were also rollers, but hard to keep any decent pace since it started to get pretty muddy.  I was holding anywhere from a 8:10-8:40 pace, depending on how far I veered and how well I could actually keep from slipping (we got a tough mudder and didn't even pay for it!)

At mile 7 we got a half mile reprieve for pavement, then turned back onto the trail, which was mostly downhill, a nice change, but still hard to find a good path.  I teamed up with a guy and we leap frogged back and forth for a bit - also chatted with an awesome woman who told me I had a beautiful stride - always nice to hear!  Hit mile 10 in 1:22- I knew for sure I could do a 28:00 5k but....as I said before...mile 11.  What goes down, goes back up....

We turned back on the return to town to a few minor rollers and then....up.  Of course, at this point it was pouring and climbing this beast was a giant pain in the ass.  I stopped to walk for 30 seconds, figuring with the grade (9% I think?) walking was actually more efficient.  Mile 11 - 10:15  Yowtch.  I picked up the pace, figuring....less than 20 minutes of death - you so can do this, Rae!

Mercifully, we hit pavement again shortly before mile 12.  The last mile of the course is of fucking course uphill, but it least it was on a damn road.  Mile 12 - 1:41:30.  Shit.  I'm not gonna make this.  Now, I should mention (and had the foresight to mention in 2011) this is NOT a PR course.  So I had no business doing the mental math I was doing, but dammit, I oftem do things I have no business doing, so I didn't care.  Can I hold a 7:45 pace?  Let's give it a shot!

I took off, passing people and thinking...this is it.  You can die later.  You don't get this back (at least until the next race, but come on.  10 seconds, baby).  1:45.....6 to go.

The course ends on a track, which is cool but cruel at the same time.  You are almost there.  But you still have 400 meters to go.  I hot the track in 1:48:30 and knew, I could not do a 6:30 mile.  But I tried.  And crested the finish line....in 1:50:03.

Are you damned kidding me.  What do I do with that???  4. freaking. seconds.  But stop.  I PRed.  By...6 seconds.  But who gives a shit.  I ran the course in the rain, on 3 hours of sleep, beat my last time running it by 9 damn minutes.

And that.  I'll take.  Along with a sackful of Chinese food and a diet coke.  Because....when do I actually do anything that makes sense??

Watch out Oak tree.  Next year....I'll find those 4 seconds.  Or, you know, pick a course that isn't 3/4 dirt and rocks with 300 feet elevation gain in mile 11 alone.  Because....wait, why would I do that??

:-)  Run on, friends.

Maintenance

The least glamorous part, right?  Keeping it up.  The hard work.  The daily grind.  Who ever posts about such things?

Me.

Last month, alive and shiny, I started my posts with the forecast of beautiful, happy things to come.  Some I have shared, some not (no, I am not pregnant).  Then, as life does from time to time, my world came crashing down.  I won't linger, because it's private, but August pretty much has been the worst month of my life.  And so, in the interest of not clogging the inter webs up with more of my melancholy (and because, lets face it, I was too immersed in either eating Chunky Monkey or running off the stress)I didn't have the bandwidth to blog.

But (I hope) I'm back.  Somewhat tattered, but here.  And focused on maintenance.  See, here's the thing I forgot in the last few years.  You can't, in fact, have it all.  Not one little bit.  You might be at the peak of your athletic fitness, but if you aren't mommin' well, those littles are gonna grow up in a hot second.  You might be the best mom and wife in the world, but at the same time, your company is doing layoffs.  You might, in fact, have a kick ass career and a steamin' hot marriage, but those damn gourmet dinners out make it so your Seven for all mankinds well....are more like an Eleven for all mankind.

Fact.

For the last year (or 3) I've tried to have it all.  And the one piece I thought I never had a problem with...came apart.  Neglect?  Well, yeah, probably.  Because if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

No way.

Love yourself.  Love your significant other.  Love your kids.  Love your family.  Love your friends.  Enjoy your life, and don't worry too much about the small shit.  Work....well, that's gonna be there, and there's no sense killing yourself over it.

And whatever happens....pick yourself up, try not to linger on past mistakes, and go forward the best you know the hell how.

And remember the basic art of maintenance. Regular (but not every day) runs.  Time for cuddles and snuggles.  Calling a long distance friend...or meeting one for a nice long walk and talk.  Date night with your hunny.   Or a long overdue dinner with the woman that raised you.  All of this stuff we "don't have time for".....we do.  We really, really do.

Tomorrow begins fall racing season....Greg and I will be heading to Geneseo, NY to run the Oak Tree Half at my alma mater.  I can't wait.  To run through the streets and farmland where I spent a great, mostly carefree four years.  To enjoy the fact that even though adulting ain't easy, I am here.  And I have so much to be grateful for.  And to forget, for (hopefully under) two hours, any stress except the physical stress I'll remedy with a slice and a garlic knot.

And if Harvey makes an entrance?  Well, who let's a challenge get in their way?  Pretty fitting, since my chem teacher freshman year had that moniker and spent a semester trying to break me.

Nice try, Harvey.  I am woman.  Hear me roar.

Whatever it Takes

OK, so clearly, I'm a little obsessed with the new Imagine Dragons CD.  There are worse things.  Greg actually turned me on to this song first, which is truly a perfect running song, then it all sort of fell in place from there.  It's not often I take to a whole CD, so good job, Dan Reynolds.
Much respect.

It's about time to do the whole shit sandwich compliment shtick, so hang on to your handbags, ladies.  Pre CFC, I used to work at a battered women's shelter, straight out of college.  It was touchy feely, burn out work, with little pay and many returns.  I'm not sorry I left, for many reasons, but it really laid a foundation for the work that I do now and in some ways how I live my life.  First of all, I've never appreciated my life full of first world problems until I worked with the women in the shelter.  Heart breaking.  Second, I've never appreciated the men in my life quite so much.  Third, and oddly enough, I picked up on quite a few work etiquette and supervisory lessons while there, which is only odd because the woman that supervised me, quite frankly, hated anyone not African American or with anything higher then a high school education.  And no, that was not in my head.  She did teach me two things though, that I carry to this day - 1. Don't ever bring a problem to someone that you haven't at least considered a feasible solution to (something I torment my employees with to this day) and 2. If you're gonna hand someone a shit sandwich, at least use good bread.  In other words, may sure you buffer that shit with something edible.

So here's my edible.  And I am remiss in the fact that I didn't start with this post, so sorry Carolyn, wherever you are!

While I was busy poo pooing my sad little circumstances (see what I did there?) I neglected to even mention the good.  And there IS quite a bit of good.  Sometimes you just have to dust off the crap (fine, I'll stop) to really see it.  Sometimes it's just harder to recognize.

Truth.

It's always easy to react to toxic people. To internalize their negativity and let it affect you.

But how often do we really, truly believe those that build us up?  Almost never.  And it's really easy for me to brush off the kind words of the people that do believe in me.  I have the best husband, who listens to my tales of woe and tells me to either get the eff over it, or to get the eff over them (after hugging me and handing me chocolate, of course).  I have a pretty stellar circle of friends that also listen to my BS and help walk me through the problem, in general reminding me that haters gonna hate (in PC terms).  I have a pretty excellent family that also bends over backwards to surround me with love. I also have an awesome team of co-workers, that, even though far away, know how to make me laugh and get through the day.  All wonderful people.

So why is it so easy to listen to the negative?  I don't know.  But I'm done with letting salty people get to me, as much as I can, at the very least.  Baz Lurhmann, childhood icon for pithy phrases, said it best "Remember compliments you receive.  Forget the insults.  If you succeed in doing this, tell me how". Well, probably someone said it before he did.  But back in 1999, we all thought he was a genius song writer that said everything that every world wise seventeen year old needed to hear.  And I guess it somehow, someway, it stuck, right?


So, it's time to move on, folks,  Just do it.  Whatever it takes.  To climb out of that hole and "take me to the top".  Gotta love song inspo. ( I know you just you tubed the song.  You're welcome.)

And, as my buddy Dan might have intended, that song really is a runner's love.  I burned it on my running play list Friday night for the Walworth 5k, a little race Greg and I run every year that coincided with his birthday this year. Yesterday, on a humid as mofo morning, of course.  I'm not going to bore anyone with a full race report, but I managed to shave 30 seconds off my time for a respectable 24:12 on a hilly as hell course, 3rd OA woman and a nice age group win.  GOOD THINGS.  Remember the good things.

Then I came home and promptly signed up for a marathon.  Because, adrenaline.  I'll be racing the Northern Ohio Marathon on October 1, a tribute to saying adios to my early thirties and the 30-34 age group the day before my birthday.  It'll be epic.  Can i break 4 again?  Stay tuned.  The pressure is on,  To train.  And ya know, actually write about it :-P

Walking the Wire

Life.  It's such a  balancing act, isn't it? Imagine Dragons said it best.

 I remember being sixteen years old, when life stood before me, unabashedly making plans for how I was going to take over the world.  Mind you, in my naive teenage mind, that consisted of besting my parents, getting my own way, telling my teachers to take a number, and doing what I wanted to.  Finally.

Eighteen years later, I realize that this whole "adulting" thing has larger ramifications than choosing to eat pop tarts and diet coke for breakfast (which are delicious, but you pay for it later).  And so it goes.  All of those wonderful things that were going to be mine for the taking...they have consequences.  And not exactly in the way I had thought it might.

For those wonderful friends that have followed me with any sense of regularity (what's that Rae, you never blog), you know I've been struggling lately.  Which, to be frank, has baffled me.  When I look back at my sixteen year old self, I see a teenager that took life by the horns.  That didn't give a shit what anyone thought.  That loved a boy with all her heart (even if he didn't know who she was).  Who had the best gang of six buddies who not only totally got her, but would beat the shit out of any guy that messed with her (all my "older brothers", if you will).  Who knew who she was, without reservation.

Who also dreamed of big things.  A great career, a beautiful family, two kids, a white picket fence, a funny, handsome and loving husband.  And undoubtedly a famous thespian or dancer.

Things change.  But not too much.  As I hit my mid thirties, I realize that I have everything I want right now, swapping out marathon for dance, triathlon for theatre.  I have such beautiful kids.  And my husband is undoubtedly the most perfect man for me.  I have a great career. A wonderful family.  Friends. And a basement full of Age Group medals that confirm that I am an athletic success - healthy, happy, and successful.  Everything but that picket fence.

So what's wrong?  Why am I mechanically attending to things?  Checking it off my list?  Missing the passion that I know my teenage self would be horrified to find missing?  I wanted to find out.  With the last few months a hectic and frustrating mish mosh of increasing stress at work, holding down the fort while Greg worked two jobs, and some health issues that are probably due to the first two, I have found myself becoming more and more annoyed with everything around me.  I am not a happy person to be around.  I've dusted off my resume and considered strongly the possibility of leaving a job I've loved for the last ten years.  I've even sat down and reconsidered base things that I am passionate about that don't seem to be so amazing any more.

With that, I knew I needed a reset.  I took the week off from work, and have re-connected.  With my kids.  With my husband.  And mostly, with myself.  Through some long, forgiving runs, a few naps, a pedicure, and even (gasp) retail therapy (yes, I went shopping for things other than running shoes.  If nothing else shocks you in this post, this should).  And I have thought.  And thought.  And thought some more.

And I've realized quite a bit.  Put simply, I've managed to let other people affect me way too much lately.  Energy vampires, if you will.  And I'm disgusted with myself for it.  I've listened when people criticize the way I parent. The way I work. The way I eat. The way I run.  The way I write.  And, no, I am not kidding, the way I send emails.  What in the actual eff is that all about?  I know.  I've sat there and taken a bunch of crap from people that are 100% pot calling the kettle black, and I've stewed in my own juices about it until I have emerged a bitter, resentful person.  Who not only took in their unnecessary, and not helpful words, but allowed them to define me.  And that's just sad.

When I was a kid, the famous phrase quite a few authority figures used on me was "Do as I say, not as I do".  Which we all know is just a shitty way to let an adult explain away bad behavior without feeling any of the consequences because, ya know, adulting, man.  When I became a parent and a boss, I swore I would never project that image to anyone that answered to me.  It creates an environment that fosters forced discipline, but never will foster respect or a good relationship.  Ever.

I managed to walk away from those "do as I say"  people for so long.  And now I find myself seeing it almost on a daily basis, either at work or in certain social circles.  And, much like a kid going through adolescence, it's set me back into a world of uncertainty, of faint dissatisfaction that festers, and lingers.

It's easy to point a finger.  To place the blame on someone else.  To let their insecurities and bad nature leech onto you and define you.  But I'm done with that.

The way I have been has been...safe.  Full of defined, easy actions that have been set forth by society and deemed appropriate.  Pay your bills.  Put in your forty hours. Do the laundry. Give the kids a bath.  Run for exactly the 60 minutes to fulfill your "10,000 steps".  Yada yada yada.  They are also boring.  And my sixteen year old self shakes her head at me.  So does my twenty five year old self, who stared at Mirror Lake in 2010, the morning her her first ironman, 3000 people strong, facing 140.6 miles of uncertainty and....jumped in.

Know what happened in 2010?  I crashed.  Yep.  Crashed my bike at mile 42.6.  I cried for 2 minutes, stood up, took inventory of body and bike parts, and rode the last 80 miles of that course with a bent frame.  And then ran the 26.2 mile marathon dirt streaked and bloody.  And I fucking finished with a smile on my face, having taken my own world by storm.

Take risks.  Be alive.  Be uncomfortable. Just DO IT.

This is my new mantra.  (With some help from Nike).

So look out down below!

Fantastic Four

Ok, I'm back.  You knew I would be.  But today, it's not about me (thank goodness, Rae, you're such a narcissist!).  It's about a boy.  Specifically, this boy that has my heart.  And always will.  He's funny.  He's a snuggle.  He gives the best hugs ever, and he likes chocolate the best (who doesn't?)  And, you got it, he calls me mom.

I can't call him a baby anymore cause...today he is 4!  What a kid.  It's wild to know that four years ago, this lil firecracker made an appearance, and that life has changed forever in the best way possible.  Today, we are celebrating with lots of cake, swinging (put together by the best team ever - Thanks EJ, Jeff, John, Drew, and Daddy!) and a Red Wings Game later.  What a day.  What a guy.

A blast from the past....when Rob was Born...One...Two...Three...

And 4!!!

 Size - 36 pounds.  Right smack where you should be.  You are 41" high, which is slightly taller than average, but of course, perfect.  You have long legs, a super strong tummy, and a big boy buzz cut.  Not a baby.  Not a toddler.  A little boy.  Be still, my heart.

Likes: You still love cars with a passion, and asked me for 10 Lamborghini's this year.  Real ones.  Ill get back to ya, bud.  You also are obsessed with "Secret Life of Pets" and also would like a mastiff, JRT, and Pomeranian for your birthday.  And while I am sure your Aunt Shel would help you out with the last one, Daddy would kill us both.  So, keep dreaming dreaming big, bud.  You also love playing car racing games, jumping in bounce houses, riding your big boy bike with training wheels, and playing in your pool. Seems like a pretty good life for a 4 year old!
  

Dislikes: Eating meat.  When things don't go your way.  Being told "NO".  And when Biz tries to play with your toys and you don't want to share.  Aside from the meat eating thing, I currently deal with these issues quite a bit at work, so I don't know what to tell ya, bud.  Suck it up, buttercup.  And enjoy the flinging yourself on the floor and screaming thing while you can.  It stops being acceptable when you turn about 6.  Well, maybe.  I might try it at my next staff meeting and see what happens.

Sleep: Aside from when you have bad dreams and need snugs (hey, not complaining), once we get you into bed, you sleep like a champ.  10-11 hours a night.  It's the 437 easy steps to get you there that we are working on....

Eating: Still adore fruit, pizza, anything chocolate, beans and rice, "golden cereal" and "talking cereal" (honey nut cheerios and rice krispies) and turkey dogs.  Sometimes it's a struggle to get you to eat, but you do well.

Milestones/Firsts:Preschool.  Riding a bike with training wheels.  Becoming fully potty trained.  Counting to 30.  And your use of astronomically grown up words like "transparency" and aerodynamic" (cause when you have triathletes for parents...) correctly.  You are pretty much off the charts in intelligence...now it's time to get your emotions there with ya.  Hang in there bud.  Equilibrium happens (see what I did there??)

Best Moment: I can't even improve on my 3 year old sentiments = Watching you and Biz.  Buddy, when you were born, I truly did not believe I had a bigger capacity for love.  I was wrong.  Watching my big boy and my baby....the two of you are just simpatico.  It is amazing.  I love you both to buts and pieces, and my life is so much better because you are in it!! 


Edited to add at 4.....the two of you are so amazing.  you teach your sister so much, and you are her biggest protector.  Watching my first baby grow into such a caring, intelligent, lovable boy is indescribable.  I love you so much, my ro-bear.

Looking Forward To: All the cool things we get to learn and do every day....the zoo, swimming, running together (you want to do a 5k!), riding bikes, swinging, reading, snuggling, a few upcoming vacations....everything.  From the mundane to the exceptional, my life with you in it is astronomically better then I ever could have dreamed.  I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BEAR (hands raised in the air)..  And that's a lotta muches!!!

Hitting the Wall (RDC 2017)

I'm not quite dead yet.  I swear.  For the last month, I keep opening blogger, readying to write a post about a race (yep, I've done 3 in the last 6 weeks, you heard it - a half marathon, a sprint tri, and a 5k), how much work sucks (no, I'm not outing myself on social media, it really legitly is pretty terrible right now, save a few people keeping me sane) or how my flippin 20 month old still won't sleep through the damn night.

Who needs to hear this?  No one.  No one at all.  You don't tune in to hear what you can hear around the dinner table, even if I tell it with colorful anecdotes and quite a few four letter words.  I also have in my "write dammit, rae" folder (no, I didn't stutter) quite a few healthy recipes to share, crock pot time savers, more "how to play for less" concepts, and some other gold star worthy pinterest shit.  That, you might want to check out.  But I have been blocked.  Just freaking blocked.  And every time I open up the blog, something else super important, like a school project, laundry, or tweezing my eyebrows, just seems to get in the way (no I don't tweeze.  Have you met me??).  Bllllazity blah.

Anyways.  Last week one of my faithful readers (actually, he might be the only one left - are you there god?  It's me, Rae) asked me if we put the blag to bed.

Nah.  He's just napping.  So it's time to just sit and let shit come out.  Just dedicate 15 minutes twice a week and do it, Rae.  DOOOO IT.  So fine. We will start small.  How about a race report?  We can go backwards......to Saturday.

My friend Jen (who bless her, has twin boys Rob's age) race directs a 5k each year to honor her older brother, who passed away from cancer in 2014.  She donates all the money to Wilmot Cancer society, and quite honestly, puts on one of the best 5ks I've done - in terms of course, amenities, and cost.  It's $18 to run, discount if you run with a team (which we did, even though we lost a few prior to the race!) and you get a nice (not flat) 5k in Mendon Ponds, a tech t, post race pizza and TONS of goodies, free kids race with ribbons, balloons and a DQ cone, and also entrance for tons of door prizes!  Whats not to love?

Team "SASS" (Stubborn and Spirited Sloggers)

Greg and I gathered a team of 10 (7 race morning) and decided to race for fun.  Race morning dawned with 82 degree temps by 9am (WHAT!) but hey, it's "only" 3 miles.  Right.  In 2016 I did the race in 26:20, but I pushed Biz in the jogging stroller, so I figured 24 something was about right, heat notwithstanding.  I missed placing in my AG but thhhismuch, so I was itching for some payback.  Grandma agreed to watch the kids on the playground (of course they were gonna do the kids race!) so Greg and I met up with her, got prepped, dumped ice water on our heads (you bet I did) and got ready to go!

Mile 1 (6:45 - WHAT??) So, clearly I went out way the hell too fast.  My usual pace for a 5k is 7:45ishish (I haven't run enough to know) but I haven't seen a 6:xx on my watch...ever.  So that was fun.  I sorta half cheered myself on and half grimaced when I thought about hanging on for 2 more miles but hey, embrace the suck.

Mile 2 (7:43) Much better.  There were a few uphill sections, but Nothing too bad - it was cool to see the fasties cruisin back, i counted out and I was 6th OA woman, which Greg also let me know when i passed him - earning a chuckle from the guy next to me about my pit crew! Saw the rest of my team on the way back, everyone looked great but...hot.  Heat was starting to climb.

Mile 3 (8:23) File this one under what the eff was i thinking at mile 1.  I actually stopped to walk - my legs felt ok but it was so damn hot out that my throat started to close.  I had almost caught #5 woman too but she was tougher than me today!

 Hit the top of the last hill and ran in the last nubbin for an overall time of 23:52 for 3.16 miles - 7:35 pace overall. Short of my PR (22:45) but it was a hilly course, hot as hades, and hey, two of the women in front of me were a Kenyan and an Olympic trials qualifier (seriously!)  Overall results - finished 27th out of 124, 6 out of 65 or 70 women, and won my age group, which netted a nice medal and a $15 med ved gift card - new shorts for me!

Post race we hung out, cooled off, watched the kids run (Rob came in 3rd and immediately threw a fit because he wanted to run the BIG race - next year, kid!) and stuck around for raffle prizes -which was good because I won an Attayne gift card for some more running gear - feeding the obsession :-)

Rob's Race!

Anyone interested in Running Down Cancer in 2018 - HIGHLY recommend this race!  I also put in a word with the RD to make it about 60 and cloudy next year.....

Mileage and Blisters and Cheers, Oh My! Garmin Marathon 2017

Well, Dorothy, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore.

That's right.  But 5 days ago we were...that's me and Biz thank you very much.  And I took care of state #5 in my marathon maniacs quest.....at the Olathe Marathon, in the "Land of Oz".  I knew that this wasn't a PR marathon - I signed up 6 weeks prior, flew halfway across the country with a 19 month old, and my longest run clocked at 15 miles.  But I also knew that PR's aren't everything, I COULD run 26 miles (that other .2...who knows) and it was too good of a chance to pass up - I got to visit Greg's cousin Lisa C. (who I adore) and my cousin's Lisa V., Shel, Brian and Gage (the first two, i have basically idolized since I was in diapers, and who had never met the Biz) Whats the downside?  NONE!

Pre Race - Biz and I flew in mega late Wednesday, we spent a few days with Lisa C. picked up race packet (number 4:20 - good omen?  Or just a hungry one??), PB sammich goodies, and drove the course (Kansas is NOT flat) and tried to get a good night's sleep on Friday night.  Till Biz woke up at 2am and proceeded to have a girlfriend's chat fest every 10 minutes until my alarm went off at 4:30.  Biz, I love ya.  I'm also used to this.  No bigs.  I left her for some Auntie Lisa C. Snugs and headed off to drive the whole mile to shuttle pick up (I love the fact that race start was 4 miles from Lisa C.'s house!!)

Took the shuttle in to some god awful traffic, hit the porta, stretched, ate my sammich and banana, pinned my gu's, stuffed my gummies down my bra (it has a food pocket, I'm not THAT gross) and headed to the start.  I wasn't going to risk a Garmin malfunction (though this was the Garmin marathon so I would have taken them to task!) so I cut up some tube socks for arm warmers.  This race also had a costume contest, including a 10 TEAM tethered dragon who ran the whole marathon in costume tied together  Yikes.  (At least I did beat the dragon - spoiler alert!) 6:40.  Ready to go.  I met up with a few guys from TX who were on state #33 and we chatted for a bit until we heard thee almost worst words...delayed start.  Ugh.  And its 48 degrees.   The parking was a cluster eff, so basically half of the 2600 people running weren't there.  Damn.  So we waited.  And shivered.  For 30 minutes.  At this point I really had to pee, but of course I heard.....the gun!!

Miles 1-6:  I alternated between a cruising pace and the potty dance for the first six miles, tryng to ignore the latter.  The rollers were pretty decent - but at least KS has a downhill for every uphill, which I SWEAR NY doesn't!  I was clocking 8:45ish pace, a comfortable pace but obviously too fast for my overall goal, which was sub 4:15, a number that was picked out of a hat because it sounded good.  But I have found that negative splits will never work for me in a race this long, so I made peace with it.

Miles 7-12:  More rollers, more steep uphills.  And the wind was picking up, so much that it blew my visor off a few times.  I was still having fun, realizing that if I started only being half crazy and doing 25 halfs in 25 states it would probably be wiser and I would race much better.  Eh, life is short.  Bring on the pain.  At mile 12 a woman yelled out to us "You look Great!" at a particularly large hill.  What a (nice) liar.  I joked about it, and she heard me....and immediately downgraded her comment to "You look pretty good".  Bwahaha.  The truth hurts.  I ain't lyin'.  Youtube says so. (6:15 in - Thanks Jason!_

Miles 13-19: At this point, the marathon folks peeled off and headed into a few steep uphill/downhill sections before spitting us onto a canal like path.  I hit the halfway point in 1:58, which sounds good in theory, but I knew I wouldn't be able to hold.  The wind was picking up and I lost my visor twice in a matter of 15 minutes....considered chucking it at the aid station but it's a nice visor so buh bye 2 minutes of race time.  Oh wells.  I started to falter around mile 15, and took in some sugar.  It was obvious that out of the 2600 people.....only about 25% were marathoners.  I don't need a parade, but the path was pretty desolate, so I started playing mind games and zoning out, ignoring the inevitable pain of why in the hell do you run for 2.5 hours and half 10 miles to go thoughts....mile 19.5 turnaround.  I planned to hit it at 3:00 and was right on the nose, give or take 60 seconds.  We turned around and were at the "home" stretch.

Mile 25.  I am not lying.

Miles 20-26.2: Home stretch good in theory, but there was an hour plus to go.  I stopped at a port o potty, which I never do, but I'm not Ironman Florida guy, so I will leave it at that.  (Google it.  You'll die).  4 minute loss, well worth it.  I grabbed some high quality h2o and was back in the game.  I started my weird math gait.....since it was a turnaround, I could see the guys behind us.  I would count 10, then walk for 2, then do it again.  The dragon went running by and I counted that one as one...because being dragoned is sort of like being beaten by an 80 year old in a tri.  You will...but it sucks.  Iw as NOT getting dragoned.  Averaging 11 minute miles, which was fine with me because I knew 4:15 was mine.  At mile 24 (which was all the fuck up hill....what is it wih mile 24 and I??) I caught up with the 4:00 pacer....which made no sense, but he admitted he had an off day, so we ran in together.  Saw Lisa C, Shel and my baby girl at the finish cheering me on and I ran it in, good for a 4:13 finish with a smile on my face!

I don't recall specifics, but I rounded out in the top 25% overall and also for women, and top third in my AG, the first three placers being the overall first 3. 9:39 pace. I'll take it!

Post Race - Diet coke (I love you Lisa).  Biz and Mommy pics!  Then back to the house for some rest, feet up, and 5 guys greasy delish with Lisa's, Shel and the bizzle.

Overall, a highly recommended race with a cute medal, perfectly fitting tee, and a great race locale.  It's been real Kansas!