Going the distance.

And with my run this morning, I managed to get in 201 miles in the month of June!

It's been a good month: I switched to running in the morning, and I signed up for a marathon.

And I can honestly say that every run has been enjoyable. There hasn't been ONE time when I thought, "Damn, I'm miserable."

I have one more weekend of 12 miles, then I move up to 15. I know I can do it, and I'm excited.

---

So, running shirtless has presented a problem. I wear a pair of shorts or a running skirt and a sports bra in the morning when I run. Well, when I'm done with the run, I am so freaking sweaty EVERYWHERE. Seriously, y'all...sweaty where I didn't think I could be sweaty.

And my hands are wet and if I wipe them on my leg or my stomach or my back, they're still wet. There have been two or three mornings when I had to really try to open the front door to get into the house. Since I run when everyone is asleep, I'd be stuck outside if I couldn't manage it eventually.

My solution has been to keep an old dishtowel in my car. If I can't get the door open after two tries, I get out the dishtowel.

Works every time.

Habit.

I am a creature of habit. If my routine is interrupted, woe be unto you. Seriously.

So yesterday had all the possibilities of a perfect storm of Beth.

I didn't run in the morning because I had a minor medical procedure scheduled, and well, I just couldn't run. So I'm already off because I didn't run, and then with the medical thing stress/nervousness (it was not a pleasant event), I was woman on the edge all day long.

Then, in the evening, I was able to finally run. Six miles in 50 minutes.

Relief.

Surprise.

I had a rough weekend.

I ate too much junk. I had a margarita and a half and paid for it dearly the next morning. I didn't run on Sunday (see: margarita and a half).

So yesterday when I went on a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip (didn't buy anything), I was surprised to see that my same old sizes fit me, even with margarita, cheese dip, tortilla chips and ice cream still swimming around inside me.

I guess it's a good thing that I keep my guard up about those things...that the fact that I'm in sizes smaller than I've been in since high school is a surprise.

I cannot take this for granted.

811.

According to my Garmin, that's how many calories I burned this morning during my 12-miler.

It seemed easier this morning than it did last week. I even got a summer shower at the beginning of mile 11.

One more week of 12 miles. Then, I move to fifteen.

---

Nine months ago to the date, I got up early (as usual) and went to the bathroom. I undressed completely, weighed myself and sighed at the number. I may have even cursed a bit.

I put my clothes back on, went to the kitchen, got a crappy breakfast (the last one) together, my coffee, and sat down at my laptop.

No more, I told myself. You deserve better. Your kids deserve better. Russ deserves better. You are not this person. You just aren't.

And I signed up for Weight Watchers online. A few weeks later, I started running again. Just two miles.

That morning, I weighed 161 pounds. This morning? 117.

That day, I wore size 12s that were getting too tight. Today, I wear anywhere from a size 0-4, depending on the brand.

That day, I stayed at home, not willing to go anywhere new or different or out of comfort zone. Today?

Bring it on.

Friday random.

I don't know if it's a coincidence or if it's just me, but whenever I get seriously into running, my fingernails grow like crazy. And they're scary-strong.  Is it the blood that's pumping in and out? Is it that I'm more conscious about taking my vitamins? Is it because I'm eating better?

But yeah. Pregnancy and running always give me good nails. (And I'm *DONE* with the pregnancy part.)

---

I need some new music for running. In fact, I probably need a whole playlist overhaul. Sure, putting that entire album of *whatever* sounded like a good idea at the time, but really? Ummmm...no.

---

I need some new running shorts. Mine are way too big, and even with the drawstring tied, I spend most of my run pulling them up.

(Note: Buy new shorts tonight!)

---

Gearing up for my big 12-miler tomorrow (reason why I need new music). I always feel a bit of hesitation the day before a big run. I know I can run 12 miles, so why does the thought make me nervous?

My plan is to get up at 4:30 a.m. and run the 12. Then shower, eat breakfast, putter around the house and take a nap around noon or so.

I'm not going to take a rest day until Tuesday. I am having a minor medical procedure done that afternoon, and I can't eat or drink anything after midnight on Monday. So rest day on Tuesday.

---

Losing weight and running have made me a lightweight. Not that I was ever knocking back gallons of alcohol every night or even every weekend, but I used to be able to have at least two margaritas without going off the deep end.

Now even a glass of wine puts me into a headspin.

"Perfect."

I went back to my gynecologist yesterday, as a follow-up for some blood work he had done three months ago.

He tested my cholesterol, blood glucose and thyroid.

The verdict (and this is HIS word): "Perfect."

My cholesterol numbers were all in the absolutely, no-doubt-about-it healthy range. Dr. D said that he wished his cholesterol numbers were as great as mine. :-)

I get validation that I'm doing the right thing pretty much every day -- when I wake up feeling great, when I'm able to pick anything out of my closet and know it will fit, when some random guy looks at me a little longer than he probably should -- but to hear a medical professional say it, and to see in black and white...well, that's priceless.

---

I got in my eight miles this morning! I'll make up the two I lost today at the trainer. He has me run the treadmill in five-to-six minute bursts, and I usually run a little more than two miles, total. I don't typically count those miles in my weekly summary, but this week, I will!

Rain.

If you've never run in the rain, I suggest you do it. Immediately.

Seriously. Put on the least amount of clothing you dare, and head out in the rain. It's like nothing I have ever experienced before.

---

When I headed out at 4 this morning to run, it was MISERABLY humid and hot. I felt like I was running through a flannel blanket.

And then it started to rain. Lightly at first, then so heavily I could barely see.

Thankfully, the heavy rain only lasted for a few minutes and it went back to sprinkles. And then it stopped.

By mile number 5, I couldn't tell if I was wet from sweat or rain.

And then it started lightning.

All bets were off at that point. I stopped after six miles...sigh. I will have to make up those two miles somehow.

New shoes...

"I don't know who invented the high heel, but all men owe him a lot." -- Marilyn Monroe. ;-)

I have a huge romance with shoes, specifically high heels. An acquaintance of mine, years ago, said that this could probably be traced back to the God-awful knee-high, heeled white twirling boots (with taps on the heels and toes) that I had to wear in junior high and high school.

(He was probably right.)

Every time I go to the mall, I head straight for the shoe department. Katie is usually with me, and while I typically have a pretty good eye for fashion, with shoes I lose control. The higher the heel, the more insane the design, the more I will love it.

So I try it on, and model it for Miss K, and she poses questions for me:

1. Mama, don't you already have some black/white/red/silver/brown/peep toe high heels?

2. Mama, exactly what would you wear with these?

And finally...

3. Mama, when I get to be 13, can I wear these shoes?

The answer to the last question is *always* NO, but the first two questions do give me pause to think, though.

(I brought Kyle to the shoe department with me yesterday while we were killing time between the band check-in of eternity and he was NO HELP. But he did hold the purse that I was buying while I tried on shoes. You're welcome, future wife.)

Anyway, I didn't buy any heels yesterday, but I did buy a new pair of running shoes. I've had my previous pair for about two months, and I estimate they've run close to 250-300 miles.

So it was time.

I bought my second pair of Nike Run Free +. I think I will stick with this style until they dream up something different. I like that they're light and that they form to my feet so well. The fact that I can get them in a color other than pink is just a bonus.

---

The bad thing about not running yesterday is that I HAD to run this morning. So I got up at 4 a.m., and pounded out 8 miles.

I'm aiming for 8 miles every day this week except for Friday (when I meet with my trainer and we work on my legs; I'll just run 6 that morning) and Saturday, when I'll get in 12 again.

And on Sunday...

I rested. Not because I'm like God or anything, absolutely NOT.

Just because it seemed like the thing to do. I did run 12 miles yesterday. I have to be mindful to balance my desperate NEED to run with a practicalness of giving my body a rest every now and then.

Today seemed to be a good day for it. So I slept in until 7.

---

So today is Father's Day, and I have to say that my kids have a pretty great one.

When I was pregnant with Kyle, Russ read to my belly every single day. I worked nights for most of the pregnancy, so he'd read when he woke up. Or he'd be awake when I got home. I'd doze as much as I could with a kicking baby inside me, and Russ would read.

"The Lorax" was a favorite of his and of the baby. Kyle would twist and turn, almost like he was arching his body to get closer to that voice.

My favorite picture of the day Kyle was born is one of Russ holding him -- it had to be literally MINUTES after he was born. Kyle is all swaddled up, his face still swollen from being born, and Russ is talking to him.

The look on Kyle's face is amazing...almost like he's thinking, "OHHHHH, so that's who has been reading to me this whole time. That's my dad."

---

Katie Michele has had her daddy wrapped around her little finger since before she was born.

I had been adamant about not letting her sleep with us. Kyle had slept with us for about six months and that was a nightmare. I was not going to repeat that with Katie.

One night when she was tiny, I had put her to bed in the bassinet in our bedroom, and then went back into the kitchen to do the million things I needed to do. Russ went to bed, eventually, and I followed about 45 minutes later...

to find my husband and my daughter, just snoozing away in our bed. Both with the same expressions on their sleeping faces.

I woke Russ up, Why was Kate in our bed? Had she woken up when he came in there? Was she crying?

No, he said. "She just looked so sweet sleeping in her crib that I wanted to snuggle with her."

And that was that.

Nothing but time...

Twelve miles is TWENTY-FOUR times around my neighborhood. That's a lot of time to do...well, nothing. My body goes on autopilot after two miles, so all I have to do is make sure I don't fall, and think.

So this is what I thought about this morning, for two hours, 14 minutes and 30 seconds:

1. Damn, it is hot. Even at 5 a.m., it is hell-hot.
2. How am I going to arrange my weekend? Checking Kyle in at band camp plus auditions plus meetings is going to take forever tomorrow. I need to go to the store, too, I want to get a pedicure, and I told Kate I'd take her to see that Judy Moody movie. And I want to take a NAP!
3. "Bridesmaids" was a really good movie.
4. Dolphins.
5. Melanie Lanuza (she knows why)
6. My legs really aren't that sore, even though my trainer worked me like crazy yesterday.
7. Maybe I do need to schedule a massage.
8. Should I go blonde? I've been a red-head for about five years now.
9. God, 12 miles is a long time to run.
10. I am so freaking hungry.
11. I should make that sangria recipe I've had stuck to the fridge for two weeks now.
12. I wish the people in my neighborhood who adopt out the greyhounds would do something about the poop smell emanating from their yard.
13. I want another pair of black heels. But do I really need another pair? I have three already.
14. I gotta start making decisions about Kyle's birthday party. I know the date and the place, but food, cake, etc.
15. Should have taken Kyle's iPod into custody last night when we sent him to bed early. He probably spent two hours texting his friends.
16. Should I wear a necklace with my new dress? The one with the portrait collar? If so, what kind?

---

Twelve miles in 2:14:30 extrapolates out to a little over 5 hours for 26.2 miles. I'd love to finish the marathon in less than 5 hours.

I'm pretty sure I can do it.

Tomorrow.

I got up every day this week (except for Sunday, when I escaped to the beach) and ran six miles.

For some reason, it was a rough week for running. I think I was still tired from the dance recital extravaganza from the previous week and weekend.

But I did it.

Tomorrow, I start the Big Marathon Training Plan.

Twelve miles (all at once).

I've run 12 miles before. Quite a few times before, actually. But tomorrow's run already feels different.

I feel like I'm on the verge of something huge. You know the whole "the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step" and all that.

I am actually going to do this. I think that's it. I've signed up for marathons before, but I don't think I really believed I was actually going to run them.

But this time is different. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I feel so great. Maybe it's because I love deadlines and I'll be FORTY in March. Maybe it's because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can do ANYTHING.

Tomorrow, it's 12 miles. December 4, it will be 26.2.

Nightmare, II

While I'm running, I land on my foot funny. This has happened before, of course, in the zillions of miles I've run, but this time is different. It doesn't shake out after a few more steps, and I know, deep in my heart, that something is wrong.

I finish my run, though, and I walk inside the house, trying to hide my hobbling from my husband. But he notices.

"What happened to you?" he asks.

"Oh, I just landed on my foot wrong. It will be OK," I say.

He points to my ankle, which has swollen to the size of a tree trunk. "No, I think you did something to it."

And then I wake up. And yes, I have to do the get-out-bed-walk-in-the-bathroom-turn-on-the-light thing to make sure that my ankle is fine.

And it is.

I've had this dream twice now. It has me wondering: What I would do if I couldn't run?

Well, I'd up my trainer sessions to three a week, for sure. Maybe I'd start swimming at the pool at Lamar. I'd do some walking.

And with a close eye on my food intake, I could keep my weight under control, I feel certain.

But what about my moods?

Running does a lot to cure me of bad stuff. Anger, anxiety, sadness, moodiness. Whether it's endorphins or I'm just too damned tired to care anymore, a run changes me into a different person.

A month ago, we were out on Friday -- eating and running errands. For whatever reason, everything was getting on my nerves. The kids were arguing. People in stores were slow. I was snapping at everyone and everything.

Russ asked me in the truck what in the heck was wrong with me and I told him, flat-out: "I need to get home and run. NOW."

So home, we went. I ran 8 miles, and felt so great by the time I got back in. I had a sudden yearning to get dressed and go dancing after I took my shower.

I didn't -- I sat on the couch in my pajamas -- but I wanted to.

That's the difference running makes for me. That's what I would miss.

Sweat.

As a child, I hated being outside.

HATED it.

It was too hot. I didn't like getting sweaty or dirty. I didn't have anyone to play with. I'd much rather sit inside and read. My mother didn't agree, and instituted a rule where for every minute I spent reading, I had to spend that much time outside. That made me angry then, but now, I hear myself telling my own two children, "OK, you have 15 more minutes of TV/video games/random whatever, and then you're outside!"

Fast forward 30 years or so, and if I'm not absolutely soaking wet from sweat after a run, I feel cheated.

Running so early in the morning (3:45 a.m. today), it's usually around the second mile when I feel the sweat start to trickle down my back.

Then, it starts dripping into my eyes. I slick my hair back and it's just as wet as if I had just taken a shower.

But the biggest point of pride is if I have to stop for a second to scratch my leg...and my knees are sweaty.

Sweaty knees.

If your knees are sweaty, then surely you are working hard, right?

The only run you regret...

I did NOT want to run this morning.

In fact, I spent a good 10 minutes in bed, arguing with myself.

And I got up and ran anyway.

---

I think that if you were to take a small drop of my blood and analyze you would find that 80 percent of it is made up of...ummm, the stuff that blood is supposed to be made of, and 20 percent of it is made up of seawater.

After a busy week and a very busy Saturday, the kids and I packed sandwiches, hopped in the car and headed for Galveston yesterday.

The kids jumped waves and played in the sand. I sat and...well, sat.

It hit my reset button. Since school got out, I have been running here and there with kids, actually running here and there, and doing a gazillion other things.

To sit in one place for five hours felt luxurious. To have nothing to do beyond watching those two little heads as they jumped up and down was heavenly.

I didn't run yesterday. But I had a good reason why...

My apologies...

to the inhabitants of my neighborhood.

If I'm going to get up at 4 a.m. to run, I'm not going to bother with a shirt of any kind.

It's too hot. It's dark. And I rarely see anyone anyway.

I know my stomach isn't wonderful. Two babies plus 100+ pounds gained and lost equals...ick. My trainer always comments on how well my skin is reacting to my lost weight, but he hasn't seen my stomach.

So, anyway, I'm sorry. Just avert your eyes if you see me lumbering down the road.

Just two miles...

When Kyle was little, he had a book called "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie," which he loved.

Basically, if you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to want milk and then he's going to have a milk moustache so he's going to need a washcloth and while you're in the bathroom getting the washcloth, he's going to decide he needs this or that. (Or something like that.)

Running is sort of like that for me. If I can just get myself through two miles, the rest is cake. It's not that I hate the first two miles or that it's drudgery; it's just that during the first two miles, I'm thinking, "You know, I could stop right now and go inside. I could. There's this show I want to watch or this book I want to read..."

But after two miles, for whatever reason, I am COMMITTED.

---

I didn't run yesterday. I did see my trainer, though, who was impressed that I was just as good post-vacation as I was pre-vacation.

I was just happy to get back into working out. I actually hadn't seen him in a week and a half or so, and I was starting to get panicky that my upper arms were going to flab out into oblivion again.

But they didn't. And they won't.

---

I pulled on my old size 12s again yesterday, just to remind myself of how far I've come. I walked into the living room with them on, to show the kids.

"Look," I said. "Can y'all believe I was that big?"

"Yeah, I can," said Katie.

Keeps me honest, that girl.

I have no rhythm.

Circadian rhythm, that is (the other, I got lots of :-) ).

I thought that when I started getting up early to run, I would be dragging through the day, barely staying awake past 8:30 p.m.

But I've found it's exactly the opposite. I have lots of energy. Yesterday, I looked up at the clock and was surprised to find out that it was 4:15 and I was still just going and going and going.

"I'll fall asleep on the couch once I get home," I thought.

Nope. I cooked, cleaned and did some laundry.

Then I sat on the couch. "*NOW* I'll pass out," I thought.

Nope. I watched some TV, read a book, played a game with Miss K...

I went to bed at 11 p.m. "It will be a struggle to get up at 4:30 in the morning," I thought.

Nope.

I woke up at 3 a.m. on the nose, ready to jump out of bed, get dressed and run. I didn't, because only insane people go out running at 3 in the morning, and I'm not ready to admit to it yet. So I tossed and turned until 4 a.m., and THEN I went out and ran 8 miles.

It really makes me wonder if all those years of babies and working 4 p.m.-midnight messed up my sleep rhythms.

And if the sleepiness is going to hit me like a brick wall when I least expect it...

A plan.

I thrive on routine. If I weren't such a hot mess otherwise, I'd think I was a touch OCD or something like that. I like knowing what's going on, what I'm doing and when I'm doing it.

So now that I've signed up for a marathon and I'm going to run a marathon, I need a plan.

If you Google "marathon training plan," you will find literally thousands of sites. And some of them actually have something to do with marathons, training and plans.

But I've yet to find one that suits me. I don't want two days off a week to cross-train. I don't want to waste days.

I've got five months until D-Day. That's 20 weeks.

After this week (busy week -- recitals and all kinds of stuff), I will run 8 miles a day during the week.

I think I'll run 12 miles on Saturday for four weeks, then bump it to 15 miles, then 20 miles and then 25 miles for the last two weeks. The final two weeks before the marathon, I'll take it easy.

I'm not looking to break any records with this marathon; I just want to finish in one piece.

Sleep.

I've never been very big on sleep. I just don't need a whole lot, and I always miss out on stuff when I am asleep (see: assassination, bin Laden, Osama; also: Rangers, Texas, comeback).

In preschool and kindergarten, while the rest of the class napped quietly on their mats, I was wide awake.

And when Kyle was a newborn (almost 12 years ago, y'all; I may die), everyone told me over and over and over again, "Sleep when the baby sleeps."

Ha! That was a good one.

For one thing, I gave birth to a child so much like me in every single way, including the whole not-sleeping thing. So waiting for Kyle to go to sleep was like a game of chicken, and he won most days. (Now, he would sleep until noon if I let him. I don't let him do that often, and I laugh fiendishly when I wake him up, remembering those days when he never slept. BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Revenge is mine.)

Secondly, I just cannot nap. I literally did not sleep for four or so days in a row most weeks during those first three or four months, and still I couldn't nap when he finally gave up and went to sleep.

Between the years 2001-2004, I had two children under the age of five, and I worked a night job (got off around midnight), so I operated on about five hours of sleep a night.

In sum: Beth and sleep, meh.

Yesterday, I took a nap. A glorious, marvelous, luxurious nap. I didn't just sleep; I wallowed in sleep.

I guess vacation + vacation aftermath + going back to work + getting ready for various events + running my ass off finally caught up with me.

It was amazing. I plan on another one today. :-)

Oppressive.

Stultifying.

Stifling.

Heavy.

Damn hot.


It's June 3. Yesterday's high was over 100 degrees.


And it's just JUNE.


If that's not insane, then I don't know what is.

Gone are the days where I'd go for a leisurely run at 10 a.m. Or at 4 p.m. No, if I want to run and I want to live through it, I'm going to have to run either early in the morning or late at night.

Early morning it is. I used to run in the early morning hours way back when, and I loved it. I had that good endorphin mood going during the day, and I had time at night to do whatever...even more exercise if I chose.

I got up at 4:30 this morning, and ran. It was still pretty hot then, but at least I didn't have to deal with the sun on top of the heat and humidity.

---

I weighed myself this morning, and I'm back to where I was. I start back with the trainer today, and since I'm also back at work, there won't be the temptations of random snacking.

Committed (two ways).

We just got back from an absolutely amazing vacation to The Bahamas. It was beautiful and gorgeous and I loved just about every second of it (the Atlanta airport is not a fun place to be, however).

I decided before we left that I was going to make every effort to run while we were gone, and to stick to my vegetarian eating plan.

I know, I know. Vacations are for relaxing and having fun. And I was going to suck as much fun as possible out of this vacation -- we don't travel like this often, so this was likely a once-in-a-lifetime trip for us.

But I also know me. If I were to go on vacation and not do any exercise and throw caution to wind as far as eating, I would be a terrible mess and unbearable to be around.

So I decided that I would run when I could. I wasn't going to run the 6-, 8-, 12-milers that I do at home. I wasn't going to interrupt family fun time to do it. But I was going to RUN.

I am an early riser. No matter what time I go to bed, I am awake by 6 a.m. My family, on the other hand, would sleep all freaking day long if I let them. So every morning, I woke up around 5, and would head out to run at 6. Atlantis has a marina that is home to these incredible million-dollar yachts and I ran alongside them for 30-45 minutes. I don't know how far I ran (and I have to admit that's kind of driving me insane), but I figure I did at least 3 miles, if not 4. And that was good enough for me. We walked to Nassau one day, and I figure I burned some extra calories there, too. And I went on a walk most nights after dinner, while Russ and the kids were winding down in the room.

I had read prior to heading on vacation that vegetarian options were not plentiful. I reconciled that with myself, and decided to eat vegetarian when it was possible. As it turned out, it wasn't difficult at all. We ate at buffet-style restaurants for the most part, and there were lots of options. I was able to have a reasonable facsimile of my usual breakfast, and that made me very happy. I did have a small serving of grilled fish two nights, and I had a conch burger (conch is a local favorite) one day for lunch. Other than that, I was able to keep to my original plan.

I do suspect that I gained a little weight, however. Bottled water is very expensive in The Bahamas, so I wasn't able to carry a bottle around with me everywhere, I had some sort of alcoholic beverage with every lunch. And two nights, I had ice cream for dessert. I planned on weighing myself this morning, but  I've decided to wait until tomorrow morning when I have one day of normal eating and water-drinking under my belt.

We got home at 2 this morning, and it was around 2:30 before I got to sleep. I got up at 7, though, and ran my usual 6 miles.

It is possible to keep to a reasonable exercise and eating plan while on vacation, if you WANT to do it.

(And if you don't want to do it, that's absolutely fine, too. :-) )

---

After we got home this morning, I put a load of clothes on to wash and pulled out my laptop.

And registered for the 2011 MetroPCS Dallas White Rock Marathon.

I'm going to do it. I'm really going to do it. I'm going to complete a marathon before I'm 40.

December 4, 2011. I'm committed.