There they go again….and again….and again….

streakAccording to our high school lore (otherwise known as the best this 42-year old brain can remember), there was only one pep rally in the four years I was in high school.  (Okay maybe I’m wrong – but there’s only one I remember.) I was a freshman, sitting up in the gym bleachers watching cheerleaders and dancers doing some routine.  All of a sudden, the doors to the outside opened up and in ran two (or maybe 3?) guys in underwear (and maybe trenchcoats?). They had what looked to me like giant fire extinguishers from which they sprayed marbles (or gumballs?) all over the gym floor.  I don’t recall any pyramid of cheerleaders tumbling down in slow motion, but I do recall a lot of immediate chaos and rumors later on that the boys (one of whom was my friend’s brother) were sent to jail or Siberia. I don’t remember any more pep rallies.  And thus, I was introduced to the idea of “streaking”.

I grew up in the 70s and 80s – so I do recall a couple of streakers interrupting baseball games. And I’m pretty sure Richard Simmons entering any room is considered streaking. But as an activity, it’s always ranked right up there (along with sky diving) as something I have no interest in.

And yet I’ve started a streak this year. Fully clothed, mind you – although there was much debate as to whether that would invalidate the streak.

My friend June (otherwise known as she-who-runners-should-fear) somehow got it into her head that she and her runner friends need to run (at least) a mile a day this year.  Yup. One mile each day. Or more if you are training or racing or what not. But at least one mile.

We officially started this past Monday. We have a small Facebook group of us who keep checking in each day and keeping everyone accountable. Of course the other ladies post things like “did my four miles and then did 2 cardio classes and saved 4 children today”.  I merely point out that I ran and then I post silly pictures and slogans reminding us all that the mile counts – whether the pace was 6 min or 16 min.

This is a great idea. Of course I say that now – two days before I run 13.1.  June won’t let that count for 13 days of running 1 mile. (We all asked – and begged – and got yelled at.) So we’ll see how that mile on Sunday feels – maybe I’ll circle the parking lot at the finish line while waiting for Steve to finish the marathon.  (I’d hop in and run the last mile with him – but that would take too much effort – and I’d probably get arrested by a Disney cop.)

Meanwhile – it really is a great way to start a new habit. Cause that’s what’s at the heart of New Year’s resolutions – changing habits.

Of course I wrote this instead of doing my mile…..dang it.  I better get out there…. What are you going to do different each day this year?


My other brain

Image courtesy of smokedsalmon /

I think I have two brains.  No, not just the usual right brain/left brain distinction that we’re all born with.  Instead, it is an entirely other brain that resides within my cranium that occasionally takes over my thoughts and actions. And this I have dubbed my “runner’s brain”.

Now, lest you think that I am suffering from dissociative identity disorder (or multiple personalities) – I am a professional.  I am well aware of the symptoms and I’m quite sure that I’m normal – well as normal as you can be when you are a psychologist, a runner, a mommy of two elementary aged children, and you are allergic to saying no to volunteer opportunities.

But this “other brain” or the “runner brain” tends to do and say things that my normal brain would never consider to be acceptable. This is the brain that:

  • believes I have the body of Kara Goucher and the enthusiasm for running of Mo Farah
  • takes over my feet whenever I am shopping so that I wind up in the workout clothes section even though I have a gazillion running outfits already.
  • is hooked on endorphin rushes.
  • likes shiny medals. A lot.
  • is convinced I will be ready for the 1/2 marathon in November.
  • sometimes dreams about running a whole marathon.  26 point freaking 2 miles.
  • made me wake up on two consecutive Sundays at 6 am to watch the two Olympic marathons. My normal brain is the one that kept my head on the pillow and kept closing my eyes.
  • takes over my mouth and likes to tell people I’m a runner even while I’m stuffing food in my mouth and pulling my t-shirt down over my belly rolls.
  • likes shiny medals.
  • gets a little jolt when friends mention that they feel like they should be running too because I post about running on Facebook. My normal brain says, “Are you people crazy??”
  • set my alarm clock for 4:50 am today and then gleefully forced my body out of bed at that hour against my normal brain’s will.  In defense of my normal brain – it was still sleeping and was caught totally off guard.
  • insisted that I keep running all 3.5 miles this morning.  My normal brain was the one that snuck a few walk breaks in there.
  • keeps skipping around in my head saying “See – you can run that 1/2 just fine.  You just need to keep getting up at 4:50 am. That was fun!  Wheee!”
My normal brain is going to punch out that other brain – after it wakes up from a nap.


Everything old is new and vice versa

The kids started back to school yesterday. Which meant that in the last few weeks of summer, blogging got pushed aside for things like camp (ballet and rockets), Vacation Bible School (where my husband and I stretched our acting chops in the skits), a trip to Grandma and Grandpa’s, and lots of back to school shopping. And definitely running.

Including the running from Target to Walmart to find the darn pocket dividers that one teacher required. Of course once I had everything purchased and labeled, we got an addendum list with MORE things on it.  And once again….off to the store. Our son’s lunchbox made it through ONE day of school before it ripped. As I had officially declared back to school shopping OVER, I went the route of duct tape to fix it. And now he can tell his lunch box from the other boy’s exact one by virtue of the tape.  Several life lessons there – including buy the more expensive lunch box no matter how much your child begs for the cheaper one. And the corollary one – you will have to purchase another lunch box when the duct tape is no longer cutting it.

As we walked the kids up to school yesterday, the street got thick with bikers and car riders. I spied one little girl excitedly sticking her head out the car window as she waited for mom to get to the corner to turn into the already jammed school parking lot and car line. I’m sure for every one of the “hanging the head out the window in breathless anticipation” kids, there were equally sullen kids rather excited by the traffic snarl which ensured another few precious moments of summer freedom.

Thankfully our children were more excited than sullen – if only because our son is cheered by the fact that we are going to Orlando on Saturday for the Star Wars Convention.  He sees that as the ultimate reward for surviving the first week of third grade. Our daughter is concerned there aren’t enough “girly” things at Star Wars.  

And so the circle goes.

As an academic, I’ve lived all my life on the school calendar.  K to 12. Then college.  Then 2 years of a Masters program.  Then 4 years of a PhD program.  (Yes I am over educated, why do you ask?) Then the years since then as an adjunct instructor, a visiting instructor, a post-doc, etc across a variety of institutions, depending upon geographical location.  For the last 8 years, I’ve been very blessed to be an adjunct at the same university where my husband is a tenure faculty member.  (In fact, we are in the same department – because we are both psychologists – but not THAT kind of psychologist.)  I’ve had the fun of teaching without the requirement to be advisor, go to meetings, and do other faculty related things.

But this year – I have the pleasure of serving a one year visiting assistant professor position in the same department.  In my mind that has meant I get to teach 3 classes a semester rather than 2, I get more money, an office to squat in, and I get the option of attending the department meetings that Steve tells me are not all that exciting. To the university that means – I have a lot of meetings to go to and things to think about that other adults tell me they worry about (like benefits) but I have chosen by marriage and profession to largely ignore.

Thus once we had the kids off to their respective classrooms (and I had deposited the immediately-wiped-off-while-scowling kiss on our son’s head) I had to race home to drive in for the day long orientation for “new faculty”.  I don’t feel so new as I have been around long enough for my husband to get tenure, but that is a mere footnote to the university. As I drove to campus I was a mixture of that girl hanging her head out the window and that child who wants summer to last forever.  Yes, I love teaching and new notebooks.  But I love summer and being an academic means that summers can be rather laid back.  And I was headed to all day meetings – oh joy. The only consolation being that I was required to go to a faculty reception at the end of it all which included an open bar.

Well I survived the meetings, introduced myself while turning beet red, tried to not yawn at the information I already knew (after 8 years I do know the policy on whether you can tell helicopter parents their darling snowflakes’ grades) and I tried to stop the brain explosion of information on benefits. Yes I get benefits and I am glad for that.  But trying to calculate 20% of a payment on a hypothetical medical appointment that may or may not occur makes one want to stab themselves in the heart with all the free pens we got. I stopped myself in time to realize that I wasn’t sure whether emergency room visits were covered before classes started.  Then again, there might be a caveat in the eye care benefits that covers it – I should have paid more attention.

I pondered all of this while I was running this morning. In addition to the three classes, I’ve packed a 1/2 marathon in this fall (Rock & Roll in Savannah) and the Disney 1/2 in January 2013. Yes I am insane. Even more so because, given our schedule for this fall, my running has gotten pushed to 5 am.  Four days a week.

Oh yes I am quite insane.  And it is quite humid here.

By the time I got back home this morning, I could wring my shirt out and fill the bathtub. At least 1/2 way up.  At times I wasn’t even close to outrunning the sweat dripping down my head. However, I had a steady pace for quite awhile that encouraged me. I hope the sweat cleared all the neurons that had shriveled during yesterday’s meetings and worked off all the sushi I munched on next to the open bar.  But moreover, I’m hoping these next few weeks are old and new.  Old in that running is a part of me now.  New in that I can get back to the 1/2 marathon shape I need. And running each run at 5 am will be new for me. I kinda like the lazy approach of walking the kids to school in the running clothes and then going.  Now I have to run, clean myself up, get dressed and packed for work and then get the kids all put together.  Hmmm…..what are odds this habit will get old sooner rather than later?  Or maybe I could get a new PR in the 1/2 instead.  Yeah yeah – I’ll lean towards that one…..

Here’s to good runs for you all – even those (especially those!) at 5 am!


Odds and ends

Been a busy week.  First week of no school for the kids.  Except of course I’m the mean mommy who makes them do homework all summer.  When your son who just finished second grade says, “Ummm what’s 6+7?”, you know you need to make him to math drills all summer.  We have to get into a new groove and routine for the summer….but I suppose that will take a few weeks.

Managed a few runs – including a group run today of 3.3 miles. (June lied and said we were only doing 3…she also burst off ahead of all of us turtles.)  At least I wasn’t alone in the back of the pack. And it’s been awhile since we had a group run (i.e. more than 2 people).  While I like being able to run with just me and my tunes, I also enjoy the time to talk, vent, and compare diets.  By the way, we are not talking about my weight loss challenge this week. Suffice it to say that my metabolism is not getting any of the memos I keep sending it.

We’re also working on getting healthier habits into the whole family. I refuse to allow the kids to keep grabbing juice boxes out of the fridge.  So we now each have our own water bottles – kept on the table from which to sip all day long.


Our son really likes the idea – despite a desperate need for a restroom while we were in line at the post office yesterday. Our daughter is coming around – as she does with everything that Mommy and Daddy suggest.  In fact, as I was typing this, she came up and declared “I’m thirsty.”  I pointed at the water bottle and she sighed, “oh I forgot.”  Ah six-year olds.

I’ve been eking out a few miles here and there in my Merrells.  Really really like the feel of the minimalist shoe.  I almost ran the group run in them today – but Steve reminded me I need to work up to longer distances.  But meanwhile I still love Merrells – and the fact that they have read this blog!!!  COOL!

Thank you Merrell!!

And sent me even more presents!  I really can’t say enough good things about this company!  I’ve started the Barefoot Running book.  It’s rather good – although some of the people in it – run barefoot.  Like really barefoot.  Like no shoes at all.  Ugh.  The summer I turned 9, I was running outside barefoot in my front yard.  Until I stepped on a piece of wire and had to go to the ER.  It was a really thick wire.  Hence, I’m rather fond of keeping my soles protected. But I’m encouraged by my, thus far, minimal strides into the minimalist world. And the book is encouraging.


You can do it!Speaking of encouragement – I saw this sign at Downtown Disney last weekend. I don’t recall any stories of Walt Disney being a runner. But as a visionary – he definitely knew how to put his efforts full force into something. If only we all could be so determined…….

Now – put down the computer/smartphone/tablet and go RUN!



Pint sized inspiration

This is the last week of school for our kiddos.  But they still have to do work – which for our daughter includes “bell work” to be done when you get to your seat.  I dropped her off and then took our son to his class and went back to daughter’s class with papers I had copied for the teacher.

Curly-headed daughter came running up to me and said, “Come see my work, Mama. We had to write what we want to be when we grow up.”

There on her sheet was this sentence:  When I grow up I want to be a mommy who runs, just like my mommy.

With that tucked inside my heart, I ran 1 mile in the new Merrells this morning.  10:16 min/mile baby.  My fastest EVER.

Love what family can do for you.

If a mom tries to go for a run

nods of fan appreciation and apologies to Laura Numeroff

*based on a true story

If a mommy plans an early run, she will set her alarm. But then she will wake up ready to go an hour before the alarm rings.

When she realizes it’s an hour early, she will fight her way back to sleep until the alarm really goes off and she’s too tired to get out of bed.

When she does get out of bed, she will have to listen to the cat meowing at her while in the bathroom.

When she looks up at the cat, she will realize the cat is actually meowing at a cockroach.

When the cockroach gets spooked (because of course it will), it will run straight to the pile of running clothes the mommy has collected on the bathroom floor.

When the mommy sees the scurrying insect, she will jump off the toilet swinging and screaming at the cat and the roach.

When the cockroach sees the looming shadow, it will dart for the shower so the mommy will worry about it later when she showers.

When the mommy goes through the pile of running clothes, she will pick out the least stinky clothes and get dressed.

When she grabs her shoes, she will head to the kitchen where she will realize she has no socks.

When she goes back in the bedroom, she will apologize to the daddy as she puts on the lights to find running socks (which can not be determined by feeling around the drawer).

When she gets her socks and shoes on, she looks for her iPhone with running app and the case for the iPhone.

When she can’t find the case (and vows to clean off the surfaces in the kitchen later today), she will go back to the bedroom, apologize again and turn on the light again.

When she still can’t find it, she will go to the bathroom and NOT apologize to the cockroach as she turns on that light.

When she finds the case, she will go back to the kitchen to realize she needs some water bottles.

When she fills up two containers of Gatorade, she will realize she forgot her gel shot.

When she grabs the gel shot, she vows again to clean up the kitchen today.

When she goes to her car, she will open it to find the faint smell of yuck from all the rain the day before.

When the smell overwhelms her, she will go back inside to find the Febreeze.

When she can’t find the Febreeze immediately, she vows to clean the laundry room after she cleans the kitchen.

When she finally finds the Febreeze, she will spray up the car.

When she gets into the car, she will choke from all the fumes.

When she finally stops choking, she will get to the meeting place and run three sweaty miles with her friend.

When she gets home, she eats breakfast, writes in her blog, and ….

then she remembers she’s suppose to clean the kitchen, the bathroom, and the laundry room.

Anyone up for another run instead?


Give or take a pound or two

One of my sillier memories of fifth grade involves a gaggle of us girls asking one of the boys in our class how much he weighed.  I have no clue what precipitated this interrogation or why we were even remotely interested in the answer.  But I’ve never forgotten the response.   He simply said, “At what time?”

Being fifth graders we were ready to pounce on his inability to understand simple question words.  We had asked for a quantity in pounds and he was talking about hours of the day.  Clearly the boy had lost his mind.  (After all, he did support the independent candidate for president that year – John Anderson. Why do I remember these things about former classmates?  I have no clue.)  But we had forgotten the important detail that he was one of the smartest kids in our class (and future Ivy Leaguer).  Thus we were subjected to a whole lecture on gravity and how a body at rest at night will distribute weight more evenly than say later on during the course of the day.   I have no idea if his theory was right….but years later I still assume that you weigh much less first thing in the morning…..even a 10 year old knows that, right?

So despite gravity, the weight loss is occurring.  I’m actually down about 5 pounds from when I started the deal with Steve. So about 21 pounds to go.  However, I’m convinced my scale is trying to make me lose my mind in addition to the pounds.

First of all – I weigh myself every morning.  Um yeah –  I know the experts say not to. However I also know weight changes everyday – and I like to track change…I’m a developmental psychologist – we STUDY change.   I like to start my day off with a reminder to my mouth and stomach about what we are trying to accomplish here.

Thus the early morning weigh-in has a required procedure beforehand.  Including (but not limited to) putting in contacts (glasses add at least 7 oz more as I am rather blind), wringing out the bladder (again a few more oz), and making sure the scale is in the optimal point on the bathroom floor.

Steve had redone our bathroom floor with groutable vinyl tiles a few summers back (very nice).  And as he is a perfectionist – I know my floor is flat and even.  However – there is a vortex just next to the closet door where I swear gravity is stronger than usual.   Thus I try to be careful when I turn on the scale so as not to accidentally tip it so that one corner of the scale is in that vortex.

The other day the scale was completely trying to mess with me.  I got on and weighed 1 pound more than the previous day.  Poop – but again I know it’s just daily fluctuations. But then I moved the scale across the floor (avoiding that vortex) and remeasured.  Discovered I had lost 1.2 pounds in those 30 seconds.  Wow!  So I again moved the scale, made sure the four feet were completely even, no wiggles. And then I gained .75 pounds back.  Two times in a row.  Finally moved the scale back to the original location. And got a completely different number.  See – completely messing with my head.  (I wrote down the lowest number in my log – duh.)

Earlier in the week I had a doctor’s appointment to hear my latest cholesterol results.  I had been happy with my morning weigh in – but my appointment was at 3pm.

“But I totally was like 3 pounds lighter this morning.”

The nurse just nodded as she wrote down the number.

“Clearly gravity is different in the morning than in the afternoon. Or maybe it’s different here in the office compared to my house. But I swear I’m really lighter than that.”

At this she just laughed and probably made some note on my chart to indicate the doctor might want to order a psych eval as well.

Regardless – I know this to be true….at least, thus far, the scale has NOT shown me any numbers equal to or greater than where I started. WHEW.  I claim that as victory alone.

I’m also running better.  Not necessarily faster but for longer stretches before I take a walk break.  I didn’t realize quite how out of shape I was with the injured foot. But I’m starting to get my endurance back bit by bit.

I will win this bet ….. despite the strange pockets of gravity densities in my bathroom.



Why I didn’t run on Monday….

Weeks ago we signed up ourselves AND the kids to run the Gasparilla 5K this Saturday.  Our son expressed a desire to earn an actual “metal medal” – not one of those (nice) rubberized “medallions” that they tend to give out to kids race finishers.  So we thought it would be something exciting to do as a family.  (Yeah – it will be exciting to try not to lose the kids in the crowd….I’m trying not to worry about how to keep them by our side for 3.1 miles….)  Anyway – the need to run this week was all consuming…..cause I need to get the mileage under my feet.

Yet – at 1pm on Sunday, my dreams of running on Monday morning went up in smoke when I took my son’s temperature.  A temp of 100 degrees plus the sore throat is a well known sign of strep in our house…strep germs seem to love our kids….I do not return such affection to the strep germs.

So I thought – maybe I can squeeze in a quick run to school with daughter while hubby watched son before going to work.

  • Which would have been possible had I not discovered fleas on the (*&#$(& cat on Sunday night.
  • Which meant I had to plan to spend time on Monday killing fleas and itching myself…
  • Which meant that my run became a car dash to school to then get to Walmart to get flea killing equipment…
  • Which commenced with me wrangling the cat and sequestering her in the bathroom…
  • Which resulted in me being covered in cat hair…
  • Which reminded me that I’d be doing mounds of laundry all day…
  • Which I chose to ignore while I read the directions on the spray bottle for killing fleas on furniture…
  • Which meant that poor sick kid and I moved furniture in the living room to maximize spray coverage for the cat’s favorite spots…
  • Which prompted a call to a friend about the spray….
  • Which meant I started spraying while talking to friend and quickly realized that the smell was overwhelming…
  • Which meant I hung up phone and yelled at poor sick kid to throw on clothes and get outside…
  • Which meant I went crazy and sprayed every spot I could think of….
  • Which meant I was trying not to vomit….
  • Which I succeed at while I gathered purse and homework for sick kid…
  • Which resulted in poor sick kid and I driving off to McDonald’s in an attempt to avoid the fumes….
  • Which meant a rather fun hour or so of eating in the car (remember the cat hair clothes?) and doing vocab and multiplication tables…
  • Which I could not stretch out all day….as I had to get back to the darn fleas…
  • Which were still on the cat when we got home…
  • Which prompted me to start the bath of the cat who hates baths….
  • Which meant poor sick kid was on “cat-catcher” duty at the door of the bathroom….
  • Which was unnecessary cause she was too miserable to jump…
  • Which was not true of the fleas who still jumped….
  • Which meant I remembered that I forgot a flea comb….
  • Which meant I called friend again and asked her to bring one to the door….
  • Which poor sick kid got from her as I was still holding the cat….
  • Which surprised me that she endured about 1/2 hour of combing (and drowning of fleas)…
  • Which lasted too long and I realized I needed to go fetch daughter at school…
  • Which prompted me to leave cat in bathroom while I made poor sick kid strip his clothes and go change and then I threw my clothes in the laundry room with his….
  • Which then lead to a quick dash to the shower for me….
  • At which time I saw a flea jump in my bra…
  • Which made me scream…..and scratch myself even more than I already was….
  • Which made my son run scurrying for the spray bottle….
  • Which he finally found…..and I used to spray my bathroom….
  • Which meant I was choking on the smell….
  • Which meant I sent son outside to car while I just figured I’d spray my whole room again….
  • Which meant I took my time getting home with daughter as I knew we had to wait for spray to dissipate…
  • Which meant it was a while before I got back to the bathroom to check on pissed-off cat….
  • Which meant that when I finally opened the bathroom to let her out….all of the $&(*#@(&* flying ants (which I know are not termites) had come back in our bathroom….
  • Which freaked me out…
  • And eventually led to me crying hysterically on my husband’s shoulder when he came home….
  • Which reminded me that we have two other fur balls in the house (yes the rats)…
  • Which meant that we tried to flea comb the rats at 9 pm….
  • Which meant that I was totally justified in collapsing at 9:15pm….and arguing that if the fish get any medical problems – I’m just going to flush the whole lot of them and be done with it….
  • Which means I’m totally going to suggest we rid ourselves of pets and only get taxidermied animals like The Bloggess does….
  • And THAT is my excuse for why I didn’t run on Monday……what’s yours????


21 days and counting

21 days from now, Disney will be all over…..and I pray that I’ll be in a puddle somewhere clutching fast to my Donald finisher’s medal. I will finish, darn it all.

21 days....and 13.1 miles till Donald is mine!

I can’t quite believe that Disney’s Marathon weekend is in 3 short weeks. It seems like forever ago that I signed up. Just the other day, we got the emails to print out our waiver forms. The form included your bib number…..mine is 41558. At first that number was off-putting.  What?  How many thousands?  But then as I thought about it….I’m starting to feel really good that given that there are at least 41557 other 1/2 crazy people out there that morning – I’m not likely to be the last one to cross the finish line.  At least I hope I’m not….as that is my nightmare.  They’ll be closing down the parks and there will be me…..plodding along….
As for training – I should be tapering these next weeks…..however I still need to get one good long run in. The plantar issue has put me off schedule and while I’ve had some good long mileages days – never got past 9.5.  Now some people have said – oh we did a 1/2 and our longest run was 5.  Okay – but I’m not sure that’s going to work for me. So I am planning 11 miles on Monday.  Today I just did 4 and the foot held up well. And Steve had to do his peak of 20 for the marathon – so I needed to get home earlier for his go.  The downside of running on Monday is that I’ll have to go it alone entirely. (Steve did offer to run the first 5 with me – until we remembered the kids are out of school for the holidays…..oops!)  But I’m sure my iPod and a bunch of energy gels will get me through….
This morning was my last group run till Disney – given the holidays and everyone’s traveling. I wasn’t particularly speedy – but I felt a lot better than last Saturday when my foot just gave out at mile 2 and I had to trudge (and curse and yell) the last 2 miles back by myself – in pain.  This was a much better run. Might be that I’ve been more diligent about ice packs, rolling golf balls on my foot (even in the middle of giving a final exam!), and wearing a night brace (for as long as I can stand it). So that’s good to know. Patience is a horrid thing to have to learn….and it seems that patience is a key part of healing a plantar pain.
As it gets closer we are talking less training and more logistics (where will we all meet, will I finish in time to see the kids’ races, etc.) Which makes it seem real. And so far not real scary……but I’ll let you know after my 11 miles on Monday!

Dusting off the cobwebs….

So the first sign you’ve neglected your blog is that there are 101 spam comments to tag and delete.

The second sign is that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.  It’s as if there’s a pile of laundry on the floor in the corner that you set there on Sunday.  You think, “I’ll put that in later today.”  Then you walk by it again and again.  As you head for bed that night, you think, “Gee – too much to do today – laundry tomorrow for sure.”  And this repeats itself for a few days before you’re reduced to no longer even glancing in that corner for fear you’ll have to look at and confront the pile of unwashed laundry. You’ve reduced yourself to wearing clothes that hang in the closet as “just in case” sort of items because you’ve just not had the time/energy/ability to get the freakin’ laundry done.  Then finally a few weeks later you just have to sit down and sort out the piles and deal with it.

This is me – dealing with it.  🙂

I have 6 weeks or so until the Disney 1/2.  I have 5 days till the Turkey Trot in Myrtle Beach. And I have an arch support on my foot, a frozen water bottle under the foot, and a borrowed plantar night brace by my bedside. Yup – it’s been a bit hairy around here.

Two weeks ago I ran 8 miles on a Saturday am.  Ran 5 with two friends and the last 3 miles were just 2 of us.  Felt okay – not a great run. But then spent the next 9 hours or so on my feet with the family. By the time we got home, I had to crawl from room to room the pain in my foot was so bad.  Plantar pain can be incredible.

I’ve taken it easy, hobbled around, and done very little running beyond a mile here or there. So I’ve just avoided all thoughts of Disney lest I cry and cry. But today I managed to get myself out for 4 miles. Ran with two others – including newly crowned Ironman Maria.  I swear – I need to tape her comments and have them playing in my iPod when I run Disney (for I will run Disney and I will finish – cause Maria told me so in no uncertain terms.) Hearing her Ironman story is amazing enough – but she is also now ready to rock the motivational speaker world. And she really won’t let anyone tell her that they can’t do it. So I did it.

4 miles that is.  Not great, but not horrid. The worse was feeling more out of shape than feeling like my foot wouldn’t hold up. So that’s good. And it’s been rather not bad all day since.  Which is encouraging.  Cause I intend to mostly run the 8K Turkey Trot. It’s a mental thing.  And by the end of it, Maria tried to get me to commit to running the Disney Goofy in 2013.  HA HA….that’s running the 1/2 on Saturday and then getting up to run the Full Marathon on Sunday.  I’m thinking all that “You are an Ironman, Maria” has seriously scrambled her brains….

Anyway I’m starting to get back in the saddle again – just to mix my physical activity metaphors. My other reason to avoid blogging about running (and my recent “lack thereof”) has been health issues.  Largely – my ever increasing cholesterol. Damn damn damn. All this running and all the chia seeds I’ve eaten over the past 6 months and still the numbers go up. So I’m fighting genetics here and losing – and now I’m at the point where I had to buy a weekly pill case for the blood pressure meds and cholesterol meds.  Lovely.  The doctor has suggested trying to investigate a few other things but we’ll see if those pan out at all.

Meanwhile – my run this morning was really what I needed….a kick in the pants to look forward to Disney and not be a negative Nellie…..but look forward to finishing  – even if I’m crawling my way across the finish line!

And blogging my way forward as well…..