Afraid to stop

There's a lot to be afraid of in my house. There's the imaginary tiger that lives in our office (we keep the door closed so the tiger won't get out), and plenty of critters in the "Okey-Okey Swamp," as my 2-year-old calls our green-carpeted family room. 

My big fear? It's the treadmill in the garage. 

I've skipped two training days recently because I just didn't feel like running. But I always went back the next day out of fear that I wouldn't restart. 

That fear, though, has made me work out on days that I probably shouldn't have. I'd be so wrapped up in the training schedule that I wouldn't pay attention to the little clues my body was giving me. 

One day I finally listened and added an extra day off in the training schedule. And, you know, it's been working out great. My legs generally aren't as tired, and my knee isn't bothering me as much as it had been. 

As for the fear? I still occasionally worry that if I stop for too long I won't restart. But I'm not afraid of ignoring the treadmill for a couple of days. In fact, I actually feel like I'm going faster the day after I've skipped a workout. 

But that added speed also could be because of the tiger. Someone must have left the office door open again. 

A hole in my tooth and my heart

Anytime a hole in your tooth is the least painful part of your day, it's a day that pretty much sucks.

I started Tuesday morning with Aleve. Good for the tooth. But it couldn't prevent the heartache that was about to come.  

That evening, during the whirl of pajamas and snack time, one of the higher-ups from my employer called. 

Reading from a script he was required to follow, he told me that I was getting laid off (actually, "involuntarily separated"). He went through some of the particulars -- a meeting I'd need to attend, paperwork I'd have to fill out. 

About 10 minutes later, nearly two decades in journalism, my chosen profession, were over. 

I vented, cried and mourned appropriately. But here's the funny thing: I also ran that night. For 30 minutes. And it helped a little, if only because I did something productive that night. 

Of course, it didn't help my tooth. That came the next day when I got a new filling. 

Life goes on ... and I'll keep running. 

Going the Extra Mile (plus .1)

I’ve done lots of 5Ks, all of them as a walker and the vast majority of them pre-children. But I was nervous about today's race, the Tour DeCatur, since I was actually going to run this one. 

In theory I’m ready, since at this point in my training I’m supposed to be able to run 3 miles. A 5K is 3.1 miles, and really, how much harder will that .1 be?

The hardest part was sticking to my running schedule during the race (run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds), because I felt like everyone was flying by me. I could never see the police car that was at the very back of the race pack, though, so that was a good thing.

I hit the one-mile mark a little sooner than I thought I would, and about a minute later I saw my small but strong-voiced cheering section (see the video below). My five-year-old saw the pace I was running at and simply said: "Mommy, speed up!" 

Wish I had seen them during the last mile, when my legs – conditioned to a 2-mile long run – wondered why I was still moving. I was definitely slower, but as I said to a fellow runner/walker as we headed up a hill, at least I’m still moving.

All in all the race went better than I thought it would (I finished in 38:20, way faster than I’ve ever walked a 5K). Maybe it’s from all those days of going up and down the hills in my neighborhood. Or maybe I’m slightly more fit than I thought, despite my sore left knee.

As I walked back to the car after the race, I thought about how at this point I’d be only half done with the Peachtree. Wondering how, and whether, I’ll get there is for another day. For now it’s about remembering my boys’ screams of encouragement as they watched Mommy in a race, and celebrating the fact that I actually ran a 5K.

And eating the Oreo cookies offered to runners as part of a post-race snack.

It's 48 degrees and raining (with Video!)

Not long after I declared that I was absolutely going to stick with my training, my husband came up with the real test of my commitment. 

“Just wait until it’s cold and rainy one morning, and you’re all wrapped up in the covers,” he said. “Then you’ll know if you’re really into it.” 

I had started to scoff, but really, he’s right. There’s very little that can get me out of a warm, cozy bed on a cold, rainy weekend: My children. The smell of cooking bacon. That’s about it. 

But here it is, a rainy Sunday, and over breakfast my husband asked if it was a running day or a cross-training day. His sly look told me he already knew it was a running day. 

I thought pretty hard about hitting treadmill, but I told him I was definitely going outside. 

It was wet, it was a little cool (48 degrees, but felt colder). And I spent the first few minutes wondering why I was stupid enough to go outside. 

 But I did it. By the end of the run I actually had Barry Manilow in my head. 

“I made it through the rain, I kept my world protected...”

Yeah, the song’s got nothing to do with running, but sometimes you just have to take whatever can get you through the day.

A Mommy Runs...

I miss the packed MARTA trains at dawn and the water sprays along the route.  I even miss Cardiac Hill.   

So this year, I’m coming back. 

It’s the 40th running of the Peachtree Road Race, and I’m going to be there. 

But this time, I'm running it!   

The 2002 Peachtree was my first and only 10K, and for the most part, I walked it. . I’ve been wanting to do it again, but life would always get in the way.

2003? Had Baby No. 1 two and a half months before. Not happening. 2004? Adjusting to life with a one-year-old, and unwilling to give up the little sleep I get. 2005? Did some 5Ks and intended to apply, but didn’t think I’d be ready.

2006? Had Baby No. 2 on July 3. The Ob/Gyn originally scheduled to perform my C-section swapped shifts with a colleague. He was running the Peachtree and didn’t want to risk getting stuck at the hospital the night before the race.

2007? See 2004, but with two children and even less sleep. 2008? Spent the Fourth of July househunting, since the home we were selling went under contract faster than we thought it would. 

But this is the year for me. I’ve got a training schedule, some new sneakers (hi-jacked by my two-year-old as seen above) and I’m totally ready. I still don’t have a lot of free time, or get a lot of sleep, but I’m done with the excuses. 

Are you done with the excuses, too? Join me! I’ll be blogging about getting ready for the race, from finding the time to finding your way on a long run. 

Hope to run into you along the way. But if not I’ll see you on the Fourth!