Note to self

It takes four days to be able to make it down a flight of stairs without pain after running a marathon.

The “thing” I shouldn’t be doing

Seeing this cute little hat started it…It started me knitting again. I saw a hat identical to it last year in the yarn isle of some random shop I was in and almost picked up the knitting needles, but then thought better of it. Then I saw it again, on mightygoods.com and thought “well hell, I LOVE that hat, I can make that”.

Since I need to buy a baby gift for my neighbor, who is due in January (which is plenty of time to get this little project done) I thought to myself what better a gift to give than a beautiful hand made baby hat. Wouldn’t you want that for your new little bundle of joy? I decided to take the plunge. I bought the needles and the oh so cute-soft-snuggly yarn and got to work.

I just wish I could purchase the patience to finish the fucking thing because I now have started it and ripped it apart and started it again, FOUR times.

The best and worst kid’s things in the mail this week

I get an awful lot of magazines that are geared towards things parents should buy for their babies, toddlers and school aged children. This past week I have seen an increase in the amount of stuff people want me to buy for my kids because of the impending Holiday Season.

Here is the worst and most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.

Here are the best. And according to the magazine “they offer children a pragmatic and lasting foundation for how to be a happy human being.” Personally, I just like the illustrations.

The most beautiful urban marathon in America

And that it is. Or at least I think it is, I don’t know any different.

Running a marathon is crazy. You work so hard for so many months and you hope it all falls into place on that one day. And then you hope you are filling your body with the right things to keep it working right for the next 2 to 6 hours depending on how fast you are.

The following is a list of things and thoughts that went through my head as I ran my first marathon:

I was overcome with emotion as 10,500 of us sang the national anthem as we were about to endure whatever it was that race was going to throw at us.

I was so happy that Adam was there with me.

I couldn’t believe the support of all the friends and family and total strangers along the way, you couldn’t go 10 steps without someone being there to cheer you on. It was overwhelming to see that many people over that many miles.

I wish I had written my name on my shirt or my body so people would cheer for me by name. I hung out with a guy named FRANK for several miles just because they were yelling his name that was taped to his shirt.

I did everything my experienced marathon friend Laura told me not to do (1) Don’t go out to fast, the race starts at mile 20 (2) Don’t have a time goal, you will just be disappointed if you don’t make it. Of course she was right, on both counts.

I couldn’t believe I was feeling so tired at mile 10.

I thought my feet were bleeding at mile 13. I wouldn’t look at them in case they were.

I didn’t realize how important it would be to see my kids when I hurt so badly. We missed each other at mile 14 and I had to dig deep to wait to see them again at mile 23.

I started with the leg cramping at mile 18.

I had to pee at mile 20. I decided I better wait until I saw a port-a-potty because if I went in the bushes like everyone else I was never going to be able to stand back up.

I couldn’t believe the leg cramps. It got to the point were if I stopped to stretch one leg the other leg would just seize up and get stuck in place.

I saw a tall skinny guy fall over on the side of the road with his eyes rolling back in his head. Several runners stopped to help until EMTs showed up. By the time Adam ran by he was out cold.

I just kept singing to myself, “you can do this, you can do this, you can do this” whenever the pain became too great.

I couldn’t believe how it plays with your mind when the “pace team” you had been running with for 16 miles runs off without you. Then you see the next pace team at mile 21 and you can’t keep up with them. That blew my mind.

I was stretching and cramping and stretching and cramping and a spectator walked by me and asked if I needed a hand because I looked like I was going to fall over.

Once I made it up Summit to the crest of the hill that overlooked the finish line and the capitol, 4 hours and 11 minutes later, I finished just as I had started…in tears.

Kid quote of the day

If I had a tail…I’d wag it.

WHO CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM DOOR???

The TiVo downstairs cut off the ending of Grey’s Anatomy, so we quickly ran to the upstairs TiVo. We got to see two additional seconds but still have no idea who walked out of the bathroom door last night in Addison’s hotel room.

Is that where the show stopped or do you know? Tell me please.

Daymares

All the training is over. All the miles are behind me. If I’m not ready for the TC Marathon, there is nothing more I can do about it now.

I haven’t had any nightmares about the marathon like I have had in the past with the triathlons. However, this morning when it was dark and the alarm kept going off, I didn’t want to be out there in the cold darkness. I didn’t want to run in the cold darkness by myself. What if something happened to me in the cold darkness by myself? My mind wandered far enough to keep me inside, in my bed, until the sun came up and the gym doors swung open.

As I ran inside on the track knowing that was the right decision of the day, I kept thinking about how the training has gone relatively well and almost injury free (with the exception of a bit of arch pain), and how it was a good idea that I ran inside because if I had gone on that run by myself something bad surely would have happened.

My mind kept wondering and churning about the fact that all I have to do from here until Sunday morning is NOT: get hit by a car, get ax murdered, cut one of my toes off in a cooking accident, brake my ankle falling down the stairs, blow my knee out running after KP, hurt my back playing a stupid game of kickball, eat something that makes me so sick I can’t get off the toilet, get shot in the head by a car-jacker, have my eyes eaten out by red ants or be stupid enough in indulge in too much wine the night before the race.

I wish I had a chip I could put inside my head for this upcoming 26.2 miles so I could do a streaming live podcast from my brain and share the insanity with the whole world.

Killing me softly

Back in the day, when I was the only person I had to physically care for, it was easy to be on time. I didn’t like being late. I liked being 5 minuets early. You know, it gave me time to process. Today is a far different story.

Now, being late produces great amounts of anxiety in me. As this anxiety starts building and riddles its way from finger tip to arm and from arm to trunk and from trunk to neck and neck to head and then all of a sudden loud barking noises start spewing out of my mouth. Along with the unintelligible noises come copious amounts of saliva that spatter the walls and windows as I am ordering my little army to BRUSH YOUR TEETH, GET YOUR SHOES ON, GO GO GO WE ARE GOING TO BE LAAAAATE!!!!!!

At the height of being late this morning, with CT almost 35 seconds from missing the bus, PJ unable to get her apples into her snack bag without falling into a billion pieces and KP still running around naked playing with a 5 foot long sausage link of dirty diapers from the diaper genie, I took a second and wondered…could choosing to stay at home with your kids actually kill you prematurely?

I’m so ashamed

I can’t believe it.

I was writing a really great post.

Then I got sucked into Wife Swap…I teared up watching Wife Swap.

Did you hear me? Tears welled up in my eyes watching Wife Swap.

What the f*&$ is wrong with me?

Kid quote of the day

CT: MOM, MOM, I know what the F word is…FFUUUUCK!

And so it begins.