Math. Blech.

What have I been up to recently? Besides running, of course.

Doing math.

I hate math more than I hate the designated hitter. More than I hate things with cream sauces. More than I hate cold weather, rain, the phrase "My bad," slow drivers, people who write checks in stores, and, as of this past weekend, trees that fall on houses breaking weatherheads.

This is a deep, deep, deep hatred, borne of course, because I am incapable of actually doing math. (I like to tell Russ that the reason why I married his math-loving, math-degree-having self is so I'd have someone tell me how much money I will save when stores have percent-off sales. That's not the real reason, of course. The real reason is so I'd have someone tall enough to reach things off the top shelves. ;-) )

Honestly. There's a reason why I have two degrees in English. If I could do more than sling words, I would.

Anyway. Math. Hate. Moving on.

The Gusher Marathon, Half-Marathon and 5K is coming up in two weeks. I'm running the half, and plan on running it in less than two hours. So what does that mean?

It means I have to run 9:05/mile.

Can I do that?

I think so. I typically can run 9-minute miles, but can I keep that up for 13.1 miles?

That's the BIG question...

Seven.

This week's weather has almost totally made up for the torrential downpour that soaked the ground so much that a huge tree fell in my back yard, damaging the weatherhead on my house and making life complicated over the weekend.

Almost.

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 It was seven years ago this month that I started running. Slowly, hesitantly, looking from side-to-side to see if anyone was looking at me and laughing. I cringed because the things that were jiggling when I ran: Gross.

But I kept it up and here I am.

(Things no longer jiggle.)

Would I have found another way to get healthy if I hadn't started running? Probably. Before I started running, I had successfully lost weight doing other things. But that's what it was -- "doing other things." They were temporary, fleeting.

It wasn't a lifestyle, which is what running is to me.

At least there's some sunshine...

Yesterday morning, I woke up around 6 or so, to a steady, hard rain.

I smiled to myself, thinking that when I ran, it would have to either be at Lamar on the treadmill or later that night. So no real need to get up early.

I snuggled back under the covers. Russ got up -- the plant where he works has been having a few minor issues and he's been monitoring things from home -- and shut our bedroom door. I dozed in and out for an hour.

I was half-awake in bed, trying to decide whether to get up or stay in bed when I heard the loudest noise ever, and the house shook a bit.

I jumped out of bed, made it through the hallway in two steps, and got into the kitchen, to see

A HUGE tree collapsed in our back yard.

Yeah.

There was a cluster of trees in the very back of our back yard -- two oaks and a Sweet Gum tree. They survived Hurricane Rita. They survived Hurricane Ike.

But the recent pouring-out of rain onto my area proved too much for the Sweet Gum. The ground apparently got so saturated that the tree just...fell. It wasn't dead -- you can see the green buds that had started forming in anticipation of springtime.

It just fell.

Parts of it fell onto our screened-in porch, but the most damage was done to the weather head on the back corner of our house. It completely broke. We still had electricity, though.

Entergy came out because it had landed on an electrical line. The utility lineman told us that he was technically supposed to cut power to our house, period, but since we still had electricity he wasn't going to mess with it. But, he said, if our lights started blinking or dimming, we needed to call them back out to cut it.

Three hours later, that's what we had to do.

We are so lucky that we live in the same town as both sets of our parents. We're currently staying with my in-laws until we can get it fixed (hopefully by Tuesday). So at least we don't have to stay in a hotel or in a house without electricity.

But I don't have to tell you how much this has thrown me off of my game. I am married to my routine, and any slight variation throws me into a tizzy...

I didn't run yesterday at all.

When I got up this morning, I didn't have my oatmeal or my strawberries or my almond butter. (I did have coffee, thank goodness.)

I was determined to run, though. Determined. I forgot my running shoes at our house, so I drove over there to get them. And then I ran six miles around my in-laws' neighborhood.

Again, running in an unfamiliar place bothered me, but I was determined.

And I got some sunshine as my reward.

Miscellany

I swallowed a bug Monday evening during my run.

I was elated.

In my book, the first bug-swallow of the year means that spring is just around the corner.

And I need spring in the worst way.

"We all grow better in sunshine and love." -- straight from Mother Teresa, so you know it's a fact.

---

My Katie-Bug needs new jeans. She's a growing girl.

Last weekend, she accidentally put her brother's jeans on to go out to play. They were a little big on her, but otherwise, they fit fine.

So she told me yesterday morning that she could just wear her brother's old jeans instead of getting new ones. I told her that boys' jeans are made differently than girls' jeans because girls have a defined waist and boys don't.

She didn't understand.

So I pulled up my t-shirt a bit to show her how my waist was different than my hips.

"Oh, Mama. What happened to you?"

I thought that maybe she had caught a glimpse of the scars and scabs on my hip where my iPod digs into my skin during runs. Nope.

Stretch marks. My motherhood badges of honor. My daily reminders of where I've been and where I am not going back.

---

Katie is 10.

She and I have been able to wear each other's shirts for months now. Her foot is a size and a half bigger than mine. She is my height. I outweigh her by 10 pounds or so.

She is tall, thin and amazingly beautiful. She is ten.

I have been worried about what is going on in that curly-haired head of hers as we get closer and closer to the same size. Girlie has years of growing ahead of her, and I knew the inevitable day would come when she was taller than me and possibly a little heavier than me.

But what is she thinking about this?

This morning, I found out.

"Mama,  you're a little person," she began.

I waited to see where she was going with this.

"It's in your blood," she finished. "I'm a big person, like Daddy. I'm tall and my bones are big."

Still waiting...

"That's why we're almost the same size. It's our genes."

Turns out I didn't need to worry, did I? My girl figured it out on her own.

My weirdness, let me tell you about it...

I have been totally off my running schedule for two, three weeks, and it is driving me crazy.

But let me explain:

Typically, I run Monday through Saturday, and take Sunday off. But Thursday at 4 a.m. was getting difficult for me to deal with, so I switched to a Sunday afternoon run, and Thursday was my off day.

And then Mondays got to be a problem (why, I don't know; I go to bed at my usual 9 p.m.). And then the rain started.

And now, any semblance of a routine has been thrown out the window.

I am still running, though. I'm still out there, six days a week, in some form or fashion, running.

Not always at 4 a.m. Not always in my neighborhood. But I'm still running. Saturday, I ran at the Lamar Rec Center on the dreadmill. Sunday, I ran in the rain in my neighborhood. Today, I ran five miles during my lunch hour, outside in the beautiful sunshine!

Then why does it feel weird and insufficient? Even though I'm running as much as I was in October or November, it feels like less because I'm jumping around so much.

I thrive on routine. Always have, always will. A shake-up of my routine bothers me, but it hits even harder when it comes to my running because I don't want to stop. I cannot stop.

It feels like I'm not as dedicated as I once was. That's an odd feeling because if anything, I'm more dedicated because I'm finding a way to run anyway.

Too tired on Monday? Run at work, or after work! Too tired on Thursday? Switch the off day! Rain just totally killing you? Run on the treadmill!

Once the weather gets reliably better, I can get back to my routine. I keep telling myself that. Until then, I'm just hanging on.