Challenge 2013: A race a month

2013.01.02.running-challengeI failed ever-so-slightly in my 2012 Race a Month Challenge, but I enjoyed it so much that I’m challenging myself to the same feat for 2013. It’s not really my resolution for the year—which is to continue hoping for good things—it’s more of a lifestyle choice. And because it’s meant to be a bit of a challenge, I will try to increase the number of marathons or half marathons I participate in.

As it stands today, my first intended race will be the Buchlyvie 10K in Buchlyvie, Scotland. It was my first race of 2012, and I am desperately hoping it goes better this year! Of course, as my race partner (and race transportation provider) has moved to Wales, figuring out how to get there will be half the challenge!

I am also thinking about doing the Alloa Half Marathon in March and the Edinburgh (full) Marathon in May—if I can wrangle an entry, as they’re already sold out. And, of course, I’m thinking about running the Loch Ness Marathon again.

Oh! I’m even going to attempt at more—and better—training this year. Oh yes, I am!

If anyone is a runner and wishes to join me at a race—or if you’re not a runner but want to come cheer me on—please do get in touch. Running is, after all, a very social sport for being such a solitary one.

Happy running!

A successful failure

2012.12.27.a-successful-failureI suppose it’s time I acknowledge that my 2012 Race a Month Challenge wasn’t as successful as I’d hoped. However, I am still calling it a success because I truly did have the best of intentions.

So, I guess I’ll start with the fact that I didn’t manage to run a race in November or December. Yes, I failed two months in a row! Now, in my defence, I was very sick in November with a low platelet count which meant that I couldn’t participate in either of the races I’d planned to run. Of course, I felt the need to make up for that by running an extra race in December. Only the December 2 race was cancelled due to icy conditions. So I planned to make up for it with a Park Run the following weekend but that, too, was cancelled due to icy. And the race I planned to do for my actual December run was in the States, but I didn’t make it home for Christmas because I had to send of my passport for my visa application.

I know it sounds like a load of excuses, and I am sorry for that. But I have made it up to my body by doing lots of training runs over the Christmas break. I hope that you’ll forgive me my failure on this. After all, thanks to running three races in September, I did manage a full 12 races in 2012! And here’s the recap:

So that’s my kind of successful failure. But I’m going for it again for 2013 so maybe I’ll have more success the next time. In fact, I already have a list of races to get me started. And—just for fun—I might do two full marathons next year. Because I can!

Three cheers for the cheerers

Well, that’s the Loch Ness Marathon done, and I am pleased to say that I improved my time over last year. The weather was pretty decent (could have been warmer for my liking) and the high I got from putting myself through the torture—and crossing the finish line!—was amazing.

Frustratingly, my knee gave up sometime after the 16-mile mark and there were a couple of times that I nearly crashed to the ground because of it, but it saw me through—just. But despite the physical pain my body was in, I never ‘hit the wall’ and was raring to go the entire race, which was nice since I was emotionally unprepared in the days leading up to it. And, thankfully, I’m not nearly as sore today as I was the day after the race last year. (Yay!)

But I don’t want to talk about me any more. (Shock!) Instead, I want to talk about the people who cheer from the sidelines. These people are amazing. They stand there for hours cheering everyone on as they run (or walk or hobble) past. They are full of encouragement for the participants and they always bring a smile to my face.

For some, they’ve had their lives disrupted as the roads to-and-from their homes (or businesses) are closed. They can’t come-and-go as they please and (inevitably) they end up with loads of empty water bottles and energy gel packs littering their gardens. Yet they stand there. Rain or shine. Clapping. Picking up rubbish. Giving words of encouragement and praise. And not just for the elite runners—for every runner.

It warms my heart and it powers me on. And when I can, I high-five the kids who stand there with their hands out for the slapping. And when my lungs allow it, I say thank you. At the very least, I try to nod or smile so that this amazing cheering section knows that they are appreciated. Because, in all honesty, their outpouring of encouragement and support really does keep me going. And for that, they deserve to be acknowledged and thanked.

So, thank you, random people in the random crowds. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Now back to me for a brief moment: My goal was to run the race in less than 5:30:00, based on last year’s 5:37:42. And I’m happy to report that I beat my goal by nearly 12 minutes with a time of 5:18:37—nearly 20 minutes better than last year. Maybe I should strive for a sub-5:00:00 for my next marathon!

As always, you can see more of my running photos and times in the Run, Frances, Run! gallery.

A great run

Today was Race Number Nine in my 2012 Race a Month Challenge and I’m pretty excited about it. It was the Great Scottish Run ½ Marathon in Glasgow (that’s 13.1 miles, if you wondered) and I finished under goal time! But, as always, you’ll have to get to the end to find out what that time is…

First up, however, is a big public thanks to my friend, John, who not only drove me to the race (and back home—a total of nearly 100 miles) but who stood around with me for an hour and a half before the race started; sat in his car reading for two hours before heading to the finish line; then met me at the finish with my bag containing comfy shoes and crisps.

Now, on to the race. I am really pleased with my time and even more pleased that I ran the majority of it. Where I took a few longer walk breaks in Edinburgh, this race saw me running solid for the first eight or so miles then I just took 15-30 second walk breaks. I suppose that has something to do with getting a bit more training in, but I must confess that I’ve still not done enough training—especially when I know I have a marathon in four weeks’ time!

Of course, the best part about the race was seeing everyone cheering each other on. I know I’ve said it before, but I really do love the non-competitive nature of running. We’re all running for our own reasons; we’re all fighting our own demons. And, inevitably, everyone helps each other and offers words of encouragement to the people around them.

Today, I witnessed two younger men slow down to help physically support a man in his 60s who was wavering around mile 11. Other runners around them shared their energy gels and water with him, and it sounded like the young men were planning to take a slower time in order to keep the older man going. (I hope they all managed to finish!)

For my own found inspiration, a woman caught up to me around mile 12 to say that she was using my pace (and bright shorts!) as her motivation and she helped me to pick up my pace for that last mile. And I’m thankful to her for it because it helped me shave a minute or two off my final time—which was already going to be less than my goal time of ‘under 2:30’.

And with that, my official time: 2:16:57. Yeah, wow! I’m very pleased as this is my fastest ½ marathon time in about 20 years and was a full 17 minutes and 39 seconds faster than Edinburgh back in May.

I have two more races to get through for September: The Stirling 10K and the Loch Ness Marathon. And I think I have two races for October: The Great Edinburgh Run (10K) and the Beat Beethoven (5.5K in Stirling). Now I just need to sort my November and December races for the rest of my Race a Month goal!

Oh! And you can see more race photos at my Run, Frances, Run gallery, too!

[Photo credits to my friend, John.]

A 10K and a curry

Today was the Drymen 10K in, well, Drymen, Scotland. It was also race Number 8 in my 2012 Race a Month Challenge. It was also my first time out with my friend, David, who will be starting the Loch Ness Marathon with me this year. (I say starting with me, because I’m quite certain he’ll finish well before me!)

My time was shockingly slow but (she says yet again) I didn’t train for it so that’s no real surprise. I finished in 1:06:11 but it felt good to get out there.

Next up is next Sunday: The Great Scottish Run ½ Marathon in Glasgow. I’m not in shape to run a ½ marathon, but I need to suck it up since the full marathon is just 5 weeks away! (As always, more race photos can be found in my race gallery.)

So, that’s the 10K bit. Now on to the curry but.

This evening was a farewell dinner with a group of friends from university. None of them were from my course, but we had some classes together and got on quite well. We went to my new favourite Indian restaurant, The Green Gates, and it was amazing! I’m sure that it helped that 4 people in our group were from India and one of them had actually worked there in the past!

It’s weird because I feel that I may never see most of them again, but thanks to the wonders of the Internet (Facebook, anyone?) I know that we will always be in touch. It’s also weird because saying goodbye means that I’m done with my master’s degree. (Wow!) Oh, wait. Not totally done because there’s still graduation in November. And since most of my friends are travelling back for that, I guess I will see them again!

Anyhow, it’s been a lovely day of running and eating with friends. Yes, I am blessed. But I’m also beat tired so… Until next time!

Seven for seven

Today was race number seven in my 2012 Race a Month Challenge. And if you didn’t guess it from the title of this post, it was a seven-mile race. (And the seventh month of the year, but that’s kind of obvious since it is the seventh month of the challenge, hence it being race number seven. But I digress…)

So, today’s race was the Donkey Brae race and was part of the Aberdour Festival in—you guessed it!—Aberdour, my friend Rebecca’s hometown. It was a bit of a carry-on to get there, but it was so worth it because I needed to push myself on a longer run. And this one came complete with hills and off-road trails!

I won’t go into mile-by-mile details of the race, but I will tell you that I knew early on that I would beat my goal of a 1.30 finish time. And I will tell you that the scenery was fantastic! The route took us past the water, past lovely old falling down buildings like St Bridget’s Kirk, and along Dalgety Bay before bringing us back into Aberdour where the last little bit was running (well, I walked quickly) up the Donkey Brae.

Oh, and special thanks and acknowledgement to Rebecca’s parents who opened their home to me for not only pre-race relaxation but a post-race shower and feeding!

My final time? 1.14.44. That’s under an 11-minute mile which was under my goal of a 12-minute mile. Yay!!

And as always, more race photos and stuff can be found in the Run, Frances, Run gallery!

Half way

It’s June 30; the last day of the first half of 2012 and the half-way point for my 2012 Race a Month Challenge.

Of course, today’s race was a bit of a challenge itself. Well, not the race so much as getting there! You see, this was the first time since my arrival in Scotland that I’ve had to make my way to a race alone. And without private transportation. But I managed, so I guess I should be pleased with myself and I should probably also give a nod to the wonders of public transport. (Though, honestly, I think I need to consider getting a car—assuming I manage to get a job!)

The race wasn’t a proper, full-on race; it was one of the Park Runs I’ve told you about in the past. There were no viable races this month, so it was that or nothing. And for a while I wondered if it would be nothing because it just seemed so daunting to try and make it all the way to Falkirk for a race. Still, I made it. And that means I’m still on task for my race goal!

My time was rather slow at 32.23, but I can chalk that up to the fact that—yet again—I haven’t done any training. I am trying to get better with that though, and since I’ve signed up for the Loch Ness Marathon again, I really need to get serious. (Which will help with the gooey belly I’m now sporting. Bonus!)

Anyhow, I suppose it’s time to find races for July and August now so that I don’t end up leaving them to the last minute, either!

Loch Ness; Take two

Do you remember when I told you that I was going to run the Loch Ness Marathon in honour of Paul? And how after I ran it, I told you I was never going to run another marathon?

Well, I was wrong. In fact, I really wanted to do another one just moments after finishing the first. And that feeling never went away. It was just so exhilarating!

So, today I’ve finally signed up to run the Loch Ness Marathon for the second time. Oh yes, I have! Only this time I’m not running for Paul. This time I’m running for me!

What does this mean for you? Well, at the moment nothing other than the occasional mention of marathon training. And maybe later I’ll give a shout out for fundraising—if I can decide to do that. Which I’m thinking I might. So, I don’t know. Stay tuned for that.

In the mean time, however, feel free to give all of those ‘I told you so’ comments for those who thought the marathon bug might take hold of my soul (and soles!). Because it has!

Half done

I completed my second half marathon today. Well, that’s if you can count last year’s Inaugural Homeland Memorial Half Marathon. Which I do. Only today’s half wasn’t in the homeland (though it was on Memorial Weekend). No, today’s race was in my adopted home country of Scotland—the Edinburgh Half Marathon. (And I’m pleased to say my time has improved since last year!)

It really was a great race. My heart, mind, and soul were geared up and excited for the entire race—and could have carried me on further. However, my legs gave up around mile 9 or so. Yeah, maybe that’s because I haven’t actually run—at all—since my last race five weeks ago.

Still, I enjoyed the entire race. Really.

The weather was fab, too. This was my first Scottish race run in shorts and a tank top—and was a nice change from the driving rain I’ve had to deal with for some of my races. Even better, the course followed the seaside for a good distance, so the fresh sea air gave me a bit of enjoyment.

As I ran this, my 5th race in my 2012 ‘Race a Month’ challenge, it struck me that my motivations have changed. Or, rather, changed back. You see, before Paul died I always ran for me. I ran because I enjoyed running. But after he died, I began running so that I could train for a marathon in his honour. And that was wonderful and I am pleased that I did it. But that’s done now, and without even realising my motivation has switched back to me and my own personal enjoyment. Certainly, I still think about Paul when I run—but I think of loads of other things, too.

Yes, running has once again become a time to clear my own mind. Part of me feels sad because it’s almost like a lost connection but at the same time, I still know that he’s there running with me. He is, after all, always with me—even when I’m not aware of it.

Oh, and another thing that struck me today was that I do have a bit of self control. I mean, at mile 4 when I saw the two pence coin in the road, I didn’t stop to pick it up because I knew it would trip up other runners. Just before mile 8 I passed up a 50 pence piece and further along the route were two separate pennies that I left behind. And if you’re a regular reader, you might know how much of a challenge that was to me!

Anyhow, it was a good race; it was a good day. And, since you’ve read this far, I’ll tell you my time: 2.34.36. Slow, yes. But remember… I haven’t trained. (Maybe I should do that before the next race?)

And, as always, you can see photos from all of my races here!

Running round the mulberry bush

Today was another race day as part of my Race a Month goal I set this year with the ever-amazing Rebecca. And, as often happens post-race, I feel great! (Worn out and tired, but great!)

The Mulberry Bush Balfron 10K took place in (you guessed it!) Balfron. It was a very hilly course, but the scenery more than made up for it! Hilly, as in there was a hill toward the end that is comparable to the grudging misery of Doomsday Hill near the end of Spokane’s Bloomsday 12K. Really.

As I started up the hill I was feeling pretty good, but as it went on and on and on, I began to wonder if I’d be able to run up the entire thing. In fact, I debated in my mind for quite a while before deciding that I wouldn’t take a walk break. (Happily, I didn’t take any walk breaks today. Yay!)

But, hills aside, it really was a good race. Once again, I’ve not put in as much training as I should (and I’m still working to sort out my rubbish eating habits!) though I did managed to finish more than three minutes under goal. (Unofficial time: 1:03:42)

My next race is up in the air, as I didn’t manage to get registered in time. Still, I’m holding out hope that I can wrangle an entry. (Watch this space!)

And, as always, you can see photos from all of my races here!

Running around

Yay! Today was my third race in my 2012 Race a Month Challenge. I don’t know how I survived it, but I did!

The Round the Houses 10K (sponsored by the Falkirk Victoria Harriers) took place in Grangemouth, Scotland, and was attended by a good 700 runners (Maybe more? Sorry, I’m rubbish at crowd counts!). And, thankfully, the weather was fantastic! Though if I knew it was going to be that fantastic, I’d have worn shorts and skipped the jacket.

It was a bit of a struggle for me, but I managed it. I’m sure I’ve mentioned my lack of exercise and training over the past few months and that, coupled with my recent bought of the lurgy and subsequent drop in my platelets, meant that I really wasn’t ready for the race. In fact, there was a point in the second half where I was getting rather upset that I wasn’t able to run faster. And being upset about that reminded me that I’m still sulking and upset about things from the past week. And that meant that I started thinking about that stuff. Which got me even more upset. It’s such a terrible cycle!

But, just shy of the 8K mark I took a quick walk break. And it was then that another runner caught me (also on a walk break) and we encouraged each other the rest of the way. In fact, we got each other so encouraged that we managed a nice little sprint over the finish line. Ah, that made me feel better!

My end-of-race running partner also made me remember what I love most about running—it’s an individual sport but we’re all cheering each other on. It’s amazing how everyone is out there fighting their own demons and medical ailments, but we all encourage each other to keep going. Because in running (unless you are destined to be in the top three) we’re not competing against each other—we’re only competing against ourselves.

I have another 10K toward the end of April, then a half marathon in May already scheduled. I suppose I should really get my training schedule sorted out now, because I can’t keep running races if I don’t get in better shape!

Oh! My [unofficial time] was 1:07:17. Rebecca, my awesome running sidekick, did better than that. And that means that of the three races we’ve run this year, she’s beat me three times. I’m not [too] bitter. (Honestly, I’m happy for her. Really.)

Oh! Again! I have to add a quick ‘Thank you’ to my ride home from the race. Rebecca was heading to see her parents after the race (in the opposite direction from home) so I arranged to have my friend make the drive all the way to Grangemouth to pick me up and take me to Stirling. So, a great big thank you to John. Because I know he’ll want the public accolades. Even though he doesn’t read my blog.

And if you’d like, you can see more of my race photos here!

Running on empty

Today was Race Two in my goal of running a race a month throughout 2012. (A joint goal with my partner-in-crime, Rebecca.) We couldn’t find a February race within a reasonable distance, so instead we participated in the Falkirk Park Run, a weekly timed event with 150+ runners or so. (And it was free!)

But I screwed up. Really, really screwed up. You see, since it was ‘just’ a 5K, and since it wasn’t a ‘real’ race, I didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. I didn’t go to bed until midnight, after having two glasses of wine. Worse, I neglected to eat breakfast. Yes, I was running on an empty stomach! I didn’t really realise it until I’d been at it for about seven minutes—and then I realised that I didn’t have the energy to run hard. In fact, there were several moments when I thought I could kick it up, but then the pangs of hunger hit and I knew I needed to slow down or I’d never finish.

I finished in 32 minutes and 27 seconds, which is a respectable time for a 5K but I could have/should have done better. And instead of feeling invigorated, I felt weak and dizzy. And I felt silly and stupid because I should know better than to run on empty!

And now, because I’m hoping that most of you have stopped reading by now, I’m going to make some further food confessions. You see, it seems that I’ve been running on empty quite a lot these past few months. Running on empty, walking on empty, going to class and shopping and sleeping on empty… you get the point. Yes, I have been a bad food eater!

Now, it’s not that I have some weird body image thing and am trying to lose weight or anything (though I admit to feeling flabby, but that’s an issue of toning, not weight loss). It’s just that I’ve not been in a good routine for a very long time. If I’m further honest, these poor eating habits have been with me since Paul died—so way, way, way too long.

I rarely eat breakfast and I rarely eat lunch. So by the time I do eat, I am so hungry that I can’t eat very much or I gorge myself on all sorts of unhealthy, salty, fatty foods. And if I’m further honest, part of the problem is that I can’t be bothered to cook for myself most days. I mean, I try to do it, but it’s really hard (i.e.: sad, lonely, and pathetic) to cook for one.

I’m trying to fix this, but I’ve been saying that for more than a year now! But I’m slowly getting better. I’ve been trying to make out a week’s menu ahead of time and I’m making some nice, hearty meals that freeze well for days when I don’t feel like cooking. In fact, as I’m typing I have some chicken and potatoes in the oven and some fresh spinach ready to cook up. But I can’t promise that tomorrow’s dinner won’t be a jumbo-sized bag of crisps!

So, the goal is simple: Cook more, eat more, and be better nourished before going for a run.

Speaking of cooking and eating, it’s time to start on that spinach now. Yum!

And don’t forget to enter my anniversary competition. I’ve really enjoyed the entries so far and would love to be entertained with a few more! (Don’t be shy!)

Just because you fall

I’ve done my fair share of falling in my life—literally and figuratively. Sometimes because I was clumsy or negligent. Sometimes because I was pushed or tripped by someone else. Sometimes because of circumstances beyond human control.

I have scars on my arms and legs (and head!) to show for some of those falls. And I have lots of memories (good and bad) to go along with them. And I have scars on my heart and soul from some of those falls, too. And the memories to go along with them.

But, I get up. And I carry on. Because until I cross the finish line, it’s not over. And even if I have to drag my battered, bruised, and bleeding body over the line with the last breath of my soul, I will finish the race. And I will win. Simply by finishing, I will win.

Oh yeah, and today marks ten years since I first met my amazing husband. I miss him terribly each and every day, but even though his loss was a big fall for me, I’m still going. And if you’ve ever wondered how we met, you can check out a post I wrote two years ago about our meeting!

A running start

I have a goal to run a race a month in 2012. It’s kind of an annual goal that Paul and I always attempted, but one that’s yet to be met; mostly because there always seems to be a race shortage. It’s one of the disadvantages of living in rural America. But this year, I’m in urban Scotland so I might have better luck attaining my goal!

Also this year, I have a new running partner who is going to attempt the goal with me. And we have the added advantage of Park Runs—timed races that take place in various communities around the UK. So on months when we can’t find a road race we want to do, we’ll supplement with the Park Runs. (Which is probably going to be our February race.)

Anyhow, today was the first race of the year—the Buchlyvie 10K (in Buchlyvie, Scotland). It was a relatively flat out-and-back course and (save for the rain) it was very scenic, too. But it was anything but easy. In fact, I’m going to rattle off a series of excuses to explain away my poor time:

  • It was raining like mad!
  • It was very cold.
  • The headwinds were quite strong.
  • The winds changed directions so there was a headwind on the return, too!
  • The course was muddy, wet, rocky, and slippery.
  • My knee was twinging for about half of the race.
  • I spent last week very ill with a fever and headache.

But I suppose if I’m honest, I did poorly because I’ve not put in the training. And I’ve been eating junk food and sitting around the flat feeling sorry for myself lately—which means I’ve gotten a bit soft and gooey and flabby, too. So whilst the excuses above are all valid reasons for a slower-than-desired pace, I could have (should have!) done better—and would have if I’d been out training and eating healthier foods. Which, I guess, means that my slow pace is ultimately down to my own laziness. Must.Do.Better!

Oh! But excitingly, Rebecca beat me this time! She ran well and ran hard and she crossed the finish line a few minutes before me. Normally, this would be a massive blow to my ego, but for some reason I’m OK with it today, and am very pleased for Rebecca. (See, I must still be ill because these are not things that I would say under typical circumstances!)

And, since you’ve made it this far, here are our unofficial finish times: Rebecca: 1:04:51; Me: 1:07:10.

You can check out my running gallery to see photos of the shirt and me in my running gear. And that’s also where you’ll find official race times when they’re posted.

A slow start

It’s nearly midnight on January 2nd and I’m finally getting around to writing my first post of the year. I meant to write yesterday and I’ve been meaning to write today, but life got in the way.

Sadly, yesterday’s lack of writing was due to the sad parts of life. Everything is OK, but I think that a bit too much Champaign the night before led to a sulky-feel-sorry-for-myself kinda day. Yes, I was pretty pathetic to be honest. Got out of bed around 8 but was too upset and teary to face the world so I went back to bed until nearly noon. Then I finally got up and sat on the couch sulking all day.

I know it sounds like a miserable start to the new year, but sometimes my mind goes into sulky mode and I just can’t bring myself out of it. On the plus side, however, I did manage to roast a chicken for an early dinner and even managed to boil up the leftovers for a big pot of soup. So at least it was a semi-productive day!

But today was better. Today I actually got up and took a shower and left the flat. In fact, I was out for longer than I’d expected! And it was a nice day. I went up to the Wallace Monument with a couple of friends, then we had lunch in Bridge of Allen, stopped by Doune Castle (you know, the one from Monty Python and the Holy Grail), and finally made it back to Stirling for a couple pints of beer and a football game.

And when I got home I swirled. And I packed a small suitcase. Because I’m heading to England tomorrow to see my in-laws for a few days.

So, this post is really to let you know I’m alive and to also let you know that if you don’t hear from me for a few days, it’s because I’m down south doing fun things. Which will be even better since my sulky mood has passed.

I hope your new year is off to a less-sulky start than mine!

Job done!

I am now officially a marathon finisher! Can you believe it? No, neither can I. Today’s feat went much, much better than I expected. And now you get to hear all about it!

The morning started about 5:30 with a bit of feeding and hydration, then we walked up to the finish line where busses were waiting to take the runners to the start line—an hour’s drive away. Sadly, the walk was across a soggy, grassy field, which meant wet shoes and socks before we even got to the busses. (More on soggy feet later.)

Once at the start line, we waited around for a short while for the race to begin. Sadly, the rain came as we were waiting, And we got drenched. But our spirits were high. In fact, the rain didn’t let up for the first 3+ miles of the race and by then my shoes, socks, and feet were sodden. (More on this later.) Of course, that wasn’t enough because at mile 4 we got a small hail storm. Really. Eventually, the skies stopped falling and the weather turned quite nice drying my jacket and my hair. (But not the shoes, socks, and feet—yet.)

For the first eight miles or so, Rebecca and I kept pace with each other, but then I managed to get ahead and stayed ahead for several miles. But as I pulled ahead, I noticed that my feet had become all wrinkly from the water and were quite sore because of it. I think that the sore feet changed by gait a bit because more sore bits were to come! (OK, that’s pretty much the soggy feet story.)

At mile 10, I forced myself to walk for five minutes because I told myself I would do that. But I was making very good time and was really enjoying myself. In fact, for a brief moment I thought I could totally do another marathon. But then I started to run again and shortly after mile 13 (half way—yay!) my knee began to ache terribly. I was actually in pain and each time my foot landed I winced. So I started to walk again thinking it just needed a break. But then when I’d run again it hurt again. Which meant that much of miles 17-22 were spent walking.

But wait! Around mile 21 Rebecca caught up with me again! I was so happy to see her! We spent the next mile or so walking together but then I just needed to run. Which I did for most of the remaining course with occasional walk breaks. But each time I ran I was in pain. Lots and lots of pain.

Of course, when I passed mile 26 and knew I had only a fraction of a mile to go, I was spurred on and my pace quickened. Then Emma and David Knox were there with their two children and a massive banner cheering me on so I kicked it up even more. And I’m pleased to say that I finished in under goal time! (Goal: 6 hours. Finish time: 5:37:42.)

So I felt good. I didn’t hit the wall, but I was in physical pain for the last half of the race. I felt happy and energised and cheered on the entire time. I really did. Though I was actually expecting to be quite emotional because of why I was running. But I like to think that Paul was there with me in spirit, and that his presence is what kept me going.

And, no, I will never do another marathon again. My body can’t take it. But a half marathon? You’re on! That’s a distance I enjoy and that I can do well.

Also at this point, it needs to be said that I couldn’t have done this without Rebecca. She got on board with the marathon idea early on and was a great motivator to me. Just having her there on the course with me was so wonderful because I know that she was supporting me all the way—as I was her—even when we weren’t running together. I am so lucky to have such a great friend, and am so pleased for her accomplishments today. An accomplishment that included raising more than £600 for charity!

And thanks to everyone else who supported me along the way. Dad and Haden were great running aids when I was in the homeland, riding bikes alongside me and cheering me on. My Mom was always there with encouragement and my sisters were full of inspiration, too. As were my various nieces, nephews, aunts, and uncles. And my friends around the world who cheered me from virtual worlds by Facebook, email, and this very blog. I felt your love today, really.

And Paul, I hope I made you proud. You would have loved the course and would have made my time look horrid. Thank you for being there with me in spirit. I love ya, luv! x

Why run?

I’m running my first—and last—ever marathon in the morning. I’m pretty excited about it, but at the same time I’m rather dreading it. You see, I don’t actually enjoying running exceedingly long distances. 10Ks and 12Ks are fun. Heck, even the occasional 10-miler or half marathon would be an exciting race to train for. But a marathon is 26.2 miles and is simply too long to enjoy.

Of course, that statement makes one wonder why I’m going through this torture in the first place. So, let me tell you!

I am running a marathon in the morning because Paul didn’t; because Paul can’t; because Paul died about a month before his first marathon.

When we first met, Paul was anything but athletic. Then, shortly after we got married, he decided to join my gym with the caveat that it was a one month trial—and the insistence that he would hate it and quit. In fact, in the first week or so I thought he would! But then he found the treadmill and was pretty excited about that.

A few weeks after finding the treadmill at the gym, Paul set a goal to run a 5K. But he would never run more than that. Then I mentioned the Spokane Bloomsday 12K and he was uninterested (too far, you understand) but eventually he changed his mind and ran that. But he would never run further than that.

Then he ran his first half marathon. And then he started to talk about how he’d like to run a marathon before he was 50. So when he decided—at the age of 47—that he was ready for that first marathon, I smiled. After all, he only ever wanted to run a 5K!

Paul loved running. It became a true passion in his life and he was good at it. And he trained and trained for the marathon—he even ran whilst we were on our last holiday to England.

Paul died a week before what would have been our third run at the Bloomsday 12K—and a month before the Coeur d’Alene (Idaho) Marathon. The Bloomsday 12K took place the day after his funeral, so there was no way I could have done it, but at the time I felt this odd need to run (or at least walk) the marathon for him. But that was silly since I could barely stand on my own two legs for the first few months after he died. In fact, I gave up running all together for quite a while after he died.

Anyhow, I eventually got back into running again and felt the need to run a marathon before what would have been his 50th birthday. And that would be this November, so I needed to get in gear and start training!

Of course, I am not really in shape for this adventure. I don’t have the stamina to run that far. Between my blood condition and kidney disease (and pure laziness), I’ve been struggling with getting the training in and maintaining my health. In fact, often times I can hear Paul yelling at me about how a woman ‘in my condition’ ought not be running a marathon. I can also hear him nagging me about getting my training in and about how I need to be careful not to make myself sick and about how I need to eat my breakfast—especially on training days—and that I need to remember to cross-train.

But, as Paul well knows (knew?) I am stubborn and when I say I’m going to do something, I do it.

So that’s why I’m running. I’m running for Paul. But since running for Paul makes me feel happy, I suppose that I’m running for myself, too.

Oh! And I managed to talk Rebecca into running with me. She’s running for her own reasons as well as for charity. (Don’t be shy you don’t have to know her to sponsor her!)

Paul: I know I won’t enjoy this race as much as you would have. And I know that I won’t make as good of time as you would have. And I know you probably don’t think I should be doing it at all. But I know you’ll be there cheering me on. I love ya, luv! xx

Three more sleeps

Oh my goodness! Do you realise that there are only three more sleeps until the Loch Ness Marathon? Well, restless sleeps would be my guess, but I’m sure I’ll get a bit of sleep in between now and then.

I know I’ve not talked much about my training lately, and I suppose that’s because I’ve not managed to get as much training is as I should and I’m really feeling quite guilty about that. Then last weekend I thought I might be coming down with a cold so I feared I’d not be able to do the run at all. (Have no fear—I think it was a case of mild exhaustion, not a cold, and I’m feeling much better now. Thanks for asking.)

Anyhow, I am now in hydration mode. Yep, I’m drinking water like mad and am trying to eat loads of good training-type foods in an effort to be ready for the big race. Not that someone of my meagre skills can see an improvement in ability that way. But still, I’m being a good girl and eating my veggies. (And fruits and carbs and stuff.)

So that’s it for today really. I’ve had all the water I can handle for the day and am now heading off to bed.

Oh! And did you notice the swirl drawing? Well, that’s one I started working on a while back but I haven’t had time to complete it. And since I just got a groovy new printer/scanner combo for school this afternoon, I thought I may as well test it out by sharing more swirls with you! I hope you like them!

Nighty night!

One down; one long one to go

I ran my first-ever non-American race today—a gentle 10K through my new home of Stirling. I’ve been neglecting my training so I was actually quite pleased with my time. (Sorry, you have to read more before you get that bit of information!)

The course was relatively flat and took us through this place and over there by that place and along a river and over a bridge or two. (OK, you got me! I don’t actually know all of the areas we ran through. But it did offer lovely views of the castle and the Wallace Monument.) The weather was fairly nice and cool—and came with a light rain near the half-way mark, which was actually quite nice.

And get this! The course was marked in kilometres—not miles! I know that’s a strange comment since the race was a 10K, but in the states a 10K (or 5K) is still marked in miles. Because of this surprise, I found myself having to do maths along the course so that I could gage if my pace was OK. But that also meant that I didn’t get my 6 mile mark, which is what tells me that I have .2 miles to go, which is what tells me to kick it up to top speed. But I got a 9K mark instead and I didn’t know what that meant in miles. Then there was a sign that said ‘200 metres to go’ and I had no clue what that meant at first—but it dawned on me that 200 metres is my .2 miles(ish) so kicked it up for my strong(ish) finish.

I had hoped to finish in under an hour, and am happy to say I did that—just!—with a finish time of 59:28. I am very happy with that time because, well, it’s a respectable time and I am training for a marathon so am working on distance not speed (and in fact, I even intentionally slowed my pace a couple of times as to not risk injury). Of course, at the same time I’m upset with that time because I so wanted to be even faster! But I have to realise that I am no longer 18 years old and I have two pre-existing medical conditions. Still, my stubbornness wanted to believe I was that perfectly healthy and fit high schooler! But I digress.

And even though this blog is all about me, I do have to mention that my friend, Rebecca, ran it with me. But if you want to know what her take on the day’s event was, you’ll have to read about it here. And don’t listen to her about my ‘shooting off in front’ at the 5K mark; but she’s right that I did a lousy job with that photo. (Sorry!)

So my next non-American race is the Loch Ness Marathon in two weeks’ time; which means that today’s run was 20.2 miles shy of the furthest distance I ever, ever, ever plan to run/walk/crawl. I’m a little frightened about the marathon, but I’m a bit excited, too. You might get the privilege of reading a post or two before the marathon about my progress, my fears, and my excitement. So stay tuned…

And, as always, you can see more photos from my races here.

Running goodbyes

A few months ago, I decided that I wanted to run ‘one last race’ with my nephews before I left for Scotland, so I searched out the race that was closest to my departure date. And that race was today.

Because the race was ‘on the other side of the mountains’ I drove over last night with my 12-year-old nephew, Haden, and 14-year-old niece, Flik. We then stayed at my baby sister, Royann’s, house with her husband, Javier, and their boys, 12-year-old Adrian and 7-year-old Brendan. Then it was an early start for us all to get to Lacey in time for the race.

Flik, Haden, and Adrian ran the 5K route and I ran the 10K one, whilst the others cheered us on. And I’m extremely pleased to say that all of us improved our times over previous races, despite none of us winning our groups. (I ran mine in 59:27, which is a 9:35 minute mile, which is way awesome!!)

Oh, and at the race I saw an old friend from high school, Craig, who was there to cheer on his wife who was also running the 10K. He’s one of the few classmates I have on my Facebook page, which meant that I was happy to go say hi, instead of pretending to not notice him! We figured that the last time we saw each other was during the 4th of July parade sometime in between my first trip to Scotland 10 years ago and my wedding 6+ years ago. What a nice little addition to my day! (And good luck to Craig’s wife who is training for a half marathon!)

After the race was over and the winners were announced, it was time for the hard part—saying goodbye. And because Haden was staying behind with his cousins, it meant one more person to hug. My first hug came from Brendan. He gave me the best hug he’s ever given me and told me he loved me—and even let me kiss his cheek! Then it was Haden’s turn for a hug. And I made him use both arms and gave him a kiss, too. Next up was Adrian. Again, two arms, kisses, and ‘I love yous’ were exchanged. (Promises of post cards and candy from Scotland were made to all of the kids.) Finally, it was time to say goodbye to Royann and Javier. Again, good hugs and promises of Skype phone calls.

Thankfully, Flik was heading back to the homeland with me, which meant a bit of a distraction, which meant I wasn’t a sobbing pile of goo when I drove away!

And since we were near(ish) ANT Elizabeth’s house, we went to see Schrodie, too. I am pleased to report that my beloved cat is starting to settle in a bit more. Her and my ANT’s cat are starting to share window ledges (though with a bit of animosity) and are even hiding under beds together. It’s kind of cool. But, she’s still got a way to go in her bid for normalisation!

Of course, the down side of that side trip was saying goodbye to Schrodie all over again. And saying goodbye to my cousins, Carson and Dylan, as well as my ANT. But I know that we’ll all keep in touch and I know that I’ll see them all when I’m back for visits. So that’s cool.

I have three full days remaining now and way too much to do in those days! I have to pack; I have to get my hair cut; I have to finish getting computers fixed up for family members so that we can stay in touch; I have to visit with friends; and I have to spend quality time with family. And I still have so many people to say goodbye to, too.

It’s going to be hard, but I know that I’m doing what’s best for me. After all, Scotland is waiting!

[Note to self: Drink more water to make up for all the tears that will be flowing!]

Fun with maths

[Please note that the ‘S’ at the end of maths was intentional, and not an error. It’s part of my attempt to use that funny British English stuff, since that’s (almost) home. However, I’m not quite ready to add the ‘S’ to words such as toward, forward, and backward. One day, I will completely acclimatise myself to the extra and replacement ‘S’s though. I think. But now onto the story.]

Once again, I’ve had a couple of great, fun-filled days. And much of the fun has included numbers. Like:

3+9=Golftastic!
Three friends came to visit yesterday and we were given the opportunity to play nine holes of golf at Rope Rider. The course isn’t open to the public for another three weeks, so it was a rare treat. It was also quite interesting to play since the course isn’t marked so we didn’t know where the tee-boxes were or what par was on each hole. Additionally, we didn’t have a course map and the pins weren’t out on the greens so we didn’t actually know where to aim! But we all had a great time and the course was absolutely amazing!

12+1+3+1=Runtastic!
So this morning I woke up bright and early (like, 6 a.m.!) for a 12-mile training run (12+1). I’ve been feeling a bit lazy with my running the last few days, so wasn’t about to bail on it! Thankfully, my Dad woke up early, too, so that he could ride along with me on his trike (that’s the 3+1 part, if you wondered).

NieceX3+Yakima=Funtastic!
After cooling down from my run, I grabbed three of my nieces (Flik, 14; Cassandra, 13; and Ivanna, 13) for a quick trip to Yakima. We loaded into my car and turned up the tunes (500 Miles by The Proclaimers was the first song request) then just sang and laughed on our way to ‘the big city’ (population 91,000 that’s big to us!). Our first stop was Target for some new running tops, then it was on to Miner’s for burgers and fries. After an enjoyable lunch we stopped off at the art supply and book stores before making the return drive to the homeland. It was really fun to be out with the girls, and I especially loved chatting with Ivanna about her dreams of being a tattoo artist when she grows up. (I doubt her mom enjoys hearing that career choice!)

36+Colours+Tin Case=Drawtastic!
Of course, I also managed to invest in some future fun! Yep, when we went to the art supply store, I noticed that they had a 50 percent off sale on premium coloured pencil sets. And since I have been frustrated with my $5 cheap-and-cheerful set intended for elementary students, I broke down and purchased a set of Prismacolor pencils. There are just 36 in the set, compared to 72 in the cheap set, but they are meant to be much better and come in a handy tin for carrying with me. And since we all know that I find joy (and therapy) in drawing swirls, it just seemed like $30 well spent!

And since we’re talking about maths, here are some more figures for you:

  • 7: Number of sleeps left until my flight
  • 39: Number of sleeps left until the first day of classes
  • 59: Number of sleeps left until I run/walk the Loch Ness Marathon

(Not bad for a woman who hates maths, huh?)

[That’s a photo of today’s burgers. Yum, huh?]

An awesome Monday

I’ve had a pretty awesome Monday, if you wondered. It started when I woke up at 6 a.m. and checked my email. That’s when I learned that I’d been awarded a £2,000 Scotland Saltire Scholarship toward my tuition at the University of Stirling. Then I went for an eight-mile run, where I shaved two minutes off my time on the same route last week.

After cooling down with some refreshing mountain water and a cup of coffee, I decided to call HM Revenue and Customs to sort my UK tax refund. Only I read the wrong number from my list and called my sister-in-law in England instead which meant a nice, unexpected chat with Liz, after which I called the tax man. And the tax man agreed with me that there was an error on their end and is sorting out a cheque for me for nearly £700.

By this time, it’s only about 9 a.m. and I’ve already managed a successful training run and have increased my bank balance by £2,700! Then about 40 minutes later, my eldest sister showed up with her daughters so that we could all head up to Tumble Creek for a round of golf. It was potentially the longest game I’ve ever played—despite us playing a scramble format—but it was so great to play with the girls!

When I finally got home (around 5 p.m.?) I got the chance to relax for a bit before my friend, Marv, arrived for a trip up to Fifty6 Degrees for a wee dram of single malt. (We chose Talikers; yum!)

And now I’m home again and ready for bed. It’s been an active day, but an awesome one. Thankfully, tomorrow appears to be considerably less active, but also enjoyable since I have a lunch date with Jennifer!

Running into excuses

So I’m training for this marathon. Only I’m not doing that great at the moment. Last week I was pretty pleased with myself: four miles on Monday; six miles on Wednesday; then 10 miles at the ocean on Saturday. And I made pretty good time with all three runs.

This week, I planned to do six miles on Wednesday and 10 miles on Friday (today) followed by a 14-mile run on Monday or Tuesday. But it’s all gone a bit wrong. You see, on my Wednesday run I was really pleased with how it was all going and was excited to see that my time was 3+ minutes better than the same run last Wednesday. And as I finished, I saw Dad’s bike parked out front, all loaded up for his overnight trip. So I grabbed one of the water bottles to quench my thirst. Only it wasn’t water, but rather white gas for his camp stove! Thankfully, I realised just as I was going to drink so whilst I did get a mouthful, I didn’t swallow. Also thankfully, there really was water in the other bottle to rinse my mouth with.

Then that night, my lower legs and feet were extremely swollen. Like really, really swollen. Now, I don’t know if the white gas incident had anything to do with it or if it was a combination of the run, the heat, and my lack of water intake. But last night my feet were a bit swollen, too. Again, I stopped to wonder if that was a white gas leftover, the heat, or a lack of water again.

Anyhow, today’s run was meant to be 10 miles, but I opted to turn a mile early for an eight mile run instead. And several things made me do that: 1) I hadn’t slept well the night before thanks to ‘Widow dreams’ (more on that tomorrow maybe); 2) my running clothes seemed to be ill-fitting, likely because they’d been going through the tumble dryer (will now air dry running gear); 3) my feet seemed unhappy; 4) the sun was beating down like mad; and 5) the winds were really strong on the return.

I think that everything combined made my determination waiver a bit. And when my mind was processing the previous night’s dreams, it just made the run even more miserable. So I’m two miles behind on my training now, but I know that I can catch up and will still get my 14-mile run in before my flight leaves.

And as to not leave with just excuses for a shorter-than-planned run, here are some solutions:

  • I am working to increase my water intake again. It’s really fallen since I stopped working.
  • I am looking into some better running clothes. I noticed today that it was too hot for the jacket I had (which is actually a golf jacket and not a proper running one) but the wind on my sweaty arms made it too cold not to have long sleeves. So a proper running coat and/or long sleeved top is needed!
  • I am going to try to get up earlier for my longer runs—like before the sun gets so hot. (Though I did start before 7:30 this morning, so maybe that won’t matter.)
  • I am going to get some new, more motivational music on my running iPod. The stuff I have is good, but I need new tunes!
  • I am going to just try harder!

I’m taking the weekend off since tonight and tomorrow night is class reunion stuff (my 20th is next year, but with such a small school we often combine a few years, since we all know each other so well!) and tomorrow morning I’m having a yard sale to try to get rid of some more stuff before my move. Oh, and Sunday is lunch with a friend in North Bend—about half a mile from the Nike store where I plan to get a new jacket and even look at new running shoes.

Then I suppose Monday I’ll have to pound pavement again… Yay for running!

At the beach: A holiday recap

I suppose it’s time for a holiday recap, since my Washington Coast holiday is over. So, here goes!

Day 1: I arrived at Copalis Beach, Washington, where I was attending a fun-filled family reunion, with more than enough time to eat food and visit with loads of awesome Eberles. Because I was playing in the family golf tournament the next morning, I stayed sober and went to bed early. Because I was staying in my sister Jessica’s tent and everyone else was staying up late drinking, I didn’t actually sleep. But I suppose that’s OK because everyone was having fun.

Day 2: Up bright and early, I loaded up my niece Cassandra (13) who decided to golf with us at the last minute, then stopped off to pick up Celeste’s kids, Flik (14) and Haden (12) who had also signed up to golf. Once we got to the course, I learned that Cassandra had only played miniature golf. I also learned that Haden and Cassandra would be on my team with Cousin Jack. Yeah, by the 9th hole it was just me and Jack. Haden called his mom for a lift and Cassandra went and read a book. It was also at the 9th hole that my completely rubbish game turned to just a half-way rubbish game. [Flik’s team, for the record, won the tourney. And Flik won the ladies’ long drive competition. Yay Flik!]

After golf it was off to the Ocean Shores senior centre for a BBQ potluck with 100+ cousins. At some point, Daddy and I went out to map out a 10-mile run for me to do in the morning. Of course, after not getting a good night’s sleep the night before, I opted to crash on the couch at the cabin my folks and sister, Celeste, had rented instead of back at the camp site with Jessica and the cousins. It was another early night, but what a great night’s sleep it was!

Day 3: Yes folks, it’s 10-Mile Run day! Daddy got up early with me to take me up to the start line for my run. The weather was nice and cool and there was a nice foggy mist for the first nine miles, which made for a cool and enjoyable run. Even better was that Dad showed up on his trike around mile 3.5 with a bottle of water then paced me until mile six when he rode back to meet me at the finish with his car. I had originally hoped for a two-hour finish, but was very pleased to have finished in 1:46:44—about a 10.36 minute mile, which is great for a training run!

After my run (and shower) it was back to the senior centre for more BBQ and potluck followed by a photo scavenger hunt that my team won. I’ll spare you some of the carry-on that ensued to make that happen, but I will share with you the names of Team Awesome: Me; my awesome baby sister, Royann; my awesome niece, Flik; and my awesome cousins, Carson and Dylan. Oh yeah, we had a blast! (And did I mention that our team won? Well, we did!)

And after that fun, it was back to the main camp ground for a dinner BBQ and potluck with more visiting with cousins. Only this time, I was drinking. And one of the cousins was making martinis, so you know I was happy! (Thank you, Flik, for your idea that we sleep in the car that night instead of in the cold tent. I was far too drink-filled to crawl into a tent anyhow!)

Day 4: Yeah, one too many drinks the night before, so I was a bit slow for day 4. Still, I managed to make it through. Most folks were heading home, but my folks and Celeste had their cabin for one more night, so Uncle Mike (who’d ridden over with me) and I decided to stay one more night, too, pitching our tents in a site just down from the cabin. Oh, and my baby sister’s kids (Adrian, 12, and Brendan, 7) were left off with my folks, too.

Once camp was set, we walked to the beach to fly kites. Only, Uncle Mike had these massive, fancy kites with loads of lines to operate and I just wanted a little pretty thing on the end of a single string. Thankfully, Brendan let me use the kite he was flying, so that made me happy. And after kite flying ended, it was back to the folks’ cabin for pizza before heading to the tents for some much-needed sleep.

Day 5: It’s leaving day, which means packing up the rigs. Only all of the sudden I had two more passengers (Adrian and Brendan) who needed a ride home to their mom. And that meant figuring out how to get all of mine and Uncle Mike’s gear back, since the back seat was no longer an option. Luckily, the kids’ legs were short enough to use some of their floor board space, and the folks had a bit of space in their rig, too. (My golf clubs appreciated the lift!)

Once on the road, the kids and Uncle Mike napped whilst I drove. Then it was a quick(ish) stop at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Tacoma before giving the boys back to their mom. Then it was on to Cle Elum to where Uncle Mike loaded his stuff into his rig and drove off whilst I warmed up LittleGreen. After all, I knew that you really wanted to know about my holidays. (Yay!)

[I’ll post loads of photos later. In the mean time, here’s what you’re looking at for this story:
Day 1: Camp fire at Echoes of the Sea, Copalis Beach, Washington.
Day 2: My golf team, Team Awesome, with members Cassandra, Jack, Haden, and me. [Photo by my niece, Flik.]
Day 3: Me, at the five-mile mark of my 10-mile run. (It was more fun than my face may let on!) [Photo by my Dad, Roy.]
Day 4: Brendan flying the fun kite.
Day 5: Me, Daddy, Mommy, and Celeste in the face-in-hole cut out at the camp grounds. [Photo by The Jeanne.]

Now about that marathon…

You’d be forgiven for forgetting that I’m meant to be training for a marathon, since I’ve not really brought up the subject recently, but I really am still planning to participate (and complete) the Loch Ness Marathon in Scotland on October 2. And now that I’m an unemployed bum living at my mommy and daddy’s, I’m actually getting some training in!

On Monday I did a four-mile run and today I enjoyed an early(ish) morning six-mile run. Then, when I’m at the ocean for a family reunion this weekend, I will do a 10-mile route—though it’s yet to be mapped out. In addition, I’ve been busy with a million other activities such as packing, lifting, and moving; bike riding; and golf. (In fact, I’m playing 18 holes on Friday at the reunion!)

I’ve also picked out my pre-move last American 10K (Aug 7 in Lacey, Washington, if you want to join me) and have registered for my first-ever Scottish race: A gentle 10K in my future home of Stirling.

Oh! And my marathon registration pack has arrived at my friend’s flat, so I guess I’m really doing this thing!

Boom! Bang!

Today is the 235th birthday of my beloved America. I always get a bit weepy on Independence Day because my patriotism always gets the better of me. Of course, today I realised that next year I won’t be in America for the big celebration, and whilst I’m happy that I’ll be in my adopted home of Scotland, I’m a bit sad knowing I won’t be here to celebrate my heritage. But don’t worry—I will always be proud to be an American!

But on to the rest of the story…

I decided to kidnap my 12-year-old nephew, Haden, for a few days. I figured that since I still had a couple of days left on my four-day weekend and since my folks would be arriving on Wednesday to help with packing, it would be nice to have the company and the extra set of hands.

Of course, once we got to my house I realised that I wasn’t prepared—I mean, there were no fireworks at the house! At first I wasn’t worried about it because I knew that we could watch the other fireworks going off, but I quickly noticed that Haden was looking a bit sad. So I went across to the neighbours’ to see if they had things to blow up. And it turns out that they had loads and loads and loads of firecrackers on hand.

When I returned to tell Haden that I had a plan, his face lit up! Once we arrived on the neighbours’ deck, his face lit up even more—I don’t know if he’s ever seen so many firecrackers in his life! So, with the supervision of four adults, Haden spent the evening throwing firecrackers off the deck whilst we all watched the most amazing small-town firework display I’ve ever seen!

I’m sad to know that I’ll never see another firework show on the Palouse, but I’m pleased that I had such a fun-filled 4th of July with my wonderful neighbours. I just wish Paul could have been here with us.

Tomorrow Haden and I will go for a three-mile run before dying our hair green. Then we’ll be busy packing. Haden knows I’ll spend a bit of time crying but I think he’s OK with that. In a way, I think that Haden’s sad, too. He knows that this is [likely] his last trip to the Palouse and he knows that I’m leaving soon—and I think he’ll miss me, just as I’ll miss him.

But at least he’ll remember that his second (and hopefully not last) 4th of July at Aunt Frances’ was a banging good time!

Happy birthday, America!

[That’s a photo of Haden throwing a firecracker, if you wondered.]

On a positive note

Yesterday’s post was a bit sad and whilst I’d love to say that I’m over it and that the world is all unicorns and rainbows and shiny things now, it’s not. It’s going to take a while to get to that point because I have a lot of stuff to go through (mentally, emotionally, and physically) to prepare for my happy future. It’s stressful and overwhelming but I am trying to be positive, really.

One of the things that has me thinking positively is the realisation that once I’ve actually left my job and my house, I will be free to spend time relaxing and sorting things out in my head—something I’ve not really had a chance to do since Paul died more than two years ago. And all of the sudden I’m going to have three weeks or so with no responsibilities. So here’s how I imagine myself spending those three weeks:

First, I have to be realistic and acknowledge that my Dad probably has a list of projects for me to help with around the house. Mom probably has a list, too. But I also know that I enjoy helping the folks (delayed obedience I like to call it) so that’s OK. Plus that, Dad’s projects will probably be great for some cross training (i.e.: free weight lifting!). Of course, the folks aren’t going to keep me busy from dawn to dusk, so that’s where the rest of the plan comes in.

I’m planning to get some training runs in most days and maybe some bike riding for cross training. I’m planning to sit in the back garden with a book (or my Kindle) soaking up the sun. I’m planning on eating lots of good food that my folks cook for me (really, I’ll try to get out of as much cooking as possible!). I’m planning on meeting up with friends and siblings for lunch and coffee. I’m planning to head up to the lake with my book (or my Kindle) to soak up the sun. I’m planning to hang out with my nieces and nephews as much as possible.

Oh! And I’m planning to attend the Eberle Family Reunion at Ocean Shores—with a pre-reunion camping trip with Uncle Mike for good measure. And I’m planning to attend the multi-year Cle Elum Roslyn High School reunion. And I’m planning to sit in front of the local coffee shop with a book (or my Kindle) soaking up the sun, chatting with the other locals in the way that small town locals do. (Might as well enjoy these few weeks of ‘being a local’ once again.)

Of course I know that my emotions will get the better of me from time-to-time and that my relaxing time will also be emotional crying time. But I’m pretty sure that just having time to be with my thoughts—without the pressures of work—will help. I just have to remember not to get bored. Or if I do get bored, I can’t tell my folks because growing up, once you said ‘I’m bored’ they’d put you to work—and you couldn’t take those words back!

[Note to self: I won’t be bored, I’ll be relaxing.]

The homeland half

Today was the Inaugural Homeland Memorial Weekend Half Marathon and I came in first place! No, really, I did!

OK, in fairness I was the event’s creator and the only [real] participant. But still, I ran (and walked) 13.1 miles today. Which is probably more than you ran today so please don’t judge me for bragging. And not only that, but I did it with a 6 a.m. start time. (Crazy lady!)

The course was pretty simple and was measured (and marked) by my dad, and we drove it last night so that I could see where each mile point was. It started from my sister’s house, went east out of town to Airport Road then cut to the left onto Masterson Road and left again at Red Bridge. The turn-around was about a mile past The Flying Horseshoe Ranch.

It was a straight out-and-back which meant that all of those blasted hills I had to run up on the first half of the course were hills to run down for the last half! (Which helped!) What helped more was that my dad was waiting at each mile marker to offer water and take photos. Talk about a support team!

And now for the boring mile-by-mile recount:

My 12-year-old nephew was going to do the race with me but I knew before Mile 1 he’d be bailing. Just past Mile 2 we were on a walk-and-water break. And by Mile 3 he joined my dad in his car. By Mile 3.5 Haden was ready to rejoin me.

At Mile 4, my sister, Celeste, had come out for a quick cheer and a photo op. At Mile 5, Haden hopped back in the rig with my dad—having decided he really, really was done. Mile 6 was a chance for a quick water break before I headed the additional .55 miles to the turn around.

At the turn-around (Mile 6.55! Yay!) my jacket came off and I was on the downhill end of the race. Just before Mile 7 my sister showed up again with water and the kids for a final cheering session before heading home to feed everyone breakfast. And just past Mile 8, as I turned back onto Masterson Road, the winds picked up. Cold, hard, miserable winds. And that’s also where my legs started to get mad at me.

By Mile 9 I was starting to wonder what I’d gotten myself into. Not so much with today’s race, but with the thought of my marathon in October. That was also when my mind started to mull over some unspoken words that need spoken to a friend, which started to make me a bit frustrated because I fear they’ll go unsaid forever. Which isn’t exactly motivating!

At Mile 10 I requested my jacket back. The winds were frigid and by this time my legs had given up on me to the point of no running—where for the two miles before I’d been on a walk-run routine. It was frustrating to know that I’d be walking the rest of the race, but I knew that I’d be able to walk fast—it’s just that my legs couldn’t do the running thing anymore. Or so I thought…

By the time I got to Airport Hill (a steep and long-ish hill that I’d run up at the start of the race) I was ready to run down the hill. I continued walking again at the base of the hill and was soon upon Mile 11—Just two miles to go now!! And that 12th mile was hard! I had the cold wind, the sore legs, a nagging question about if I could actually do a marathon, and the thoughts of unspoken words to keep me down.

But then, just before rounding the corner for Mile 12—The Final Mile—I saw my nephew riding his bike toward me. He decided to come out to cheer me on for a bit. It made my heart sing, and my smile came back to my face. At that point, dad headed back to the house and I started to feel a bit more confident—albeit with sore, un-running legs!

And, finally, about two blocks before the finish line, I managed to run again. The heavy winds were complicating that, but the final 100 yards or so was down an alley way where the wind was blocked—and at the finish line were my parents, my sister, my nephew and niece, and my foster daughter. They even had a ribbon for me to run through and a ‘1st Place’ ribbon for my efforts!

I’m tired now. Really, really tired. But I’m well-pleased with my efforts; especially since I didn’t actually train for this. (Oops!)

The Loch Ness Marathon is in just 18 weeks and I’m pretty sure my running partner for that race won’t bail on me (though she’s allowed to run on her own since she’ll be faster than me!). I don’t expect to run it all, but I do expect to finish. I guess I’d best get training!

[Photo credits to my dad, Roy Cook.]

For the last time

Well folks, the Bloomsday 12K results are in. But I’m going to get all melancholy for a bit before I get to that part.

You see, it dawned on me sometime last week that this may very well be the last time I run Bloomsday. It’s not my hometown race and once I leave the Palouse it won’t exactly be convenient to participate. Sure, about a dozen people travel from my hometown for the race each year, but I’m not returning to my hometown; I’m returning to my home county.

It also dawned on me that this was the first time I participated without Paul. We were registered for the race in 2009 but he died a week before the starters’ gun went off. Of course, knowing that it was a matter of ‘when not if’ Paul died, part of me is glad we didn’t run it. I mean, what if the ‘when’ was whilst he was running a race with 50,000 plus people? I don’t know how I could have coped with that. (I know: Whatifs are silly things. But the mind seems to go there from time to time!)

Anyhow, I am a bit sad about my time. I mean, I came in under my goal of 1:45 (just) but it was a whole 23 minutes slower than my last time. And we’ll not talk about what my time would have been in my teens and early-20s when I was at my top fitness!

I know I shouldn’t be upset. After all, my physical, mental, and emotional wellness really took a hit when Paul died and I’m not yet at my pre-widowed levels. (I might not ever be!) I also have to remember that I have had two severe platelet crashes since January—the last of which was just two weeks before the race when I sat in the doctor’s office discussing the possibility of a platelet transfusion. So, really, I probably shouldn’t have been running in the first place! But, I guess that my slow speed is just another indicator of how much life has changed for me in the last two years.

So, now that Bloomsday is done, I guess it’s time to start thinking about that marathon in October. And, of course, the hometown Runner Stumbles 10K over 4th of July weekend—my last American race for who-knows-how-long.

And, finally, here are the times for our group:

  • Nearly-12-year-old nephew, Haden: 1:41:39
  • Me: 1:44:22
  • Nearly-13-year-old niece, Flik: 2:10:14
  • My sister, Celeste: 2:11:31
  • Nearly-12-year-old foster daughter: 2:11:34
  • My neighbour (Kerry): 2:42:28
  • Kerry’s friend, Leslie: 2:42:28

Don’t forget to check out some of our photos, too!

A bloomin’ recap

Bloomsday 2011 is over and I’m alive to tell the story! And after little-to-no training, that is a success in itself. Yay!

I’ll not bore you with all of the details since you already know that I was in the green colour group and that I ran with my nephew, Haden, whilst the rest of our group walked. Instead, I’ll just get to the good stuff and that’s this:

Haden and I ran the entire race. All of it. We ran it all. I really thought that Haden would take a walk break at some point. But, no, he was good to run! And he ran up Doomsday Hill at a rather impressive rate. In fact, once we got to the top of the dreaded hill, Haden was set to finish at a great speed. So, he dashed off in front of me just shy of mile seven and I didn’t see him until I made it past the finish line. I was (and still am!) extremely pleased and impressed with his ability!

The other good stuff is that the rest of our group (the five walkers) all completed the course in one piece. Of course, the cool thing about that is that they’re not athletes and have never walked such a distance in their lives. A couple had recently done five miles, and the other three had walked (sometimes with a bit of jogging) 5Ks a couple of times. So this really was a challenge for them and they are all filled with joy and pride at their accomplishments—as they should be!

And for even more good stuff: New connections were made! My sister and my neighbour really hit it off and it seems everyone enjoyed each other’s company and everyone just had an all-around good time, which is always a treat!

Sadly, there was one instance of the race that upset me. As I was running (slowly) up Doomsday Hill, I was passed by a woman around my age who was probably carrying about 20 pounds more that her frame allowed—wearing spandex shorts and a rather small running top. She wasn’t going much faster than me, but she was making pretty good time. Well, just as I got up to a group of three extremely pretty ‘they’re probably in a sorority’ girls, I overheard them speaking rather disparagingly about the woman and all the jiggling extra bits of her. They were very vocal about how ‘people who look like that’ shouldn’t be allowed to dress like that.

Now, if that were me, I don’t think I’d have chosen that wardrobe. And if she were in the grocery store, I’d have probably been a little snarky (inwardly, mind you) about her choice of clothing. But she was running a 12K road race. Running it. And she was keeping a better pace than me or the silly commentary panel. If that’s the outfit she felt comfortable running in, I say wear it!

Anyhow, it just upset me. And I don’t know if I’m more upset at the offenders for their judgmental comments or at myself for not saying something. Maybe it’s a tie? But I digress…

Now, what you really want are photos and times. Sadly, at nearly 10 p.m. the times aren’t yet posted and I am too beat to wait for them. I will update you on those tomorrow. In the mean time, I guess the photos will have to suffice.

13295 + 48065 = Team Awesome

OK, I admit that I’m generally pretty rubbish at math[s], but I think I’ve done the calculations right this time!

You see, tomorrow morning is the 35th annual Bloomsday 12K in Spokane, Washington, and my nephew, Haden, and I will be running it together. My bib number is 13295; Haden’s is 48065. And together, we equal Team Awesome.

This is Haden’s first-ever 12K and it takes place just three days before his 12th birthday. He’s pretty excited about it, too!

We’ve had a big spaghetti dinner. We’ve hydrated with lots of water all day. We have our race gear set out and ready to go. We have yummy donuts and bananas for a fuelling breakfast tomorrow morning. Yes, we are ready to run!

Oh! And an added bonus is that my sister, niece, foster daughter, neighbour, and neighbour’s friend are all participating in the race, too. They’ll be walking the course. And I believe it will be the furthest any of them have ever walked. They’re all pretty excited about it!

Tune in tomorrow to see how we did!

(Yes, Haden’s number is upside down. He knew this at the time of the photo. He says that he thinks people should learn how to read upside down, apparently.)

Colour me green

The Bloomsday 12K race organisers tell me (via email this morning) that I’m go for green for this weekend’s race. This makes me so happy because I feared my two year hiatus from the event would relegate me to lilac once again.

I should note here that there are more than 50,000 race participants and they colour-code groups by estimated finish times, with the fastest people in the front. The first time Paul and I ran the race, we were lilac—way in the back where all the walkers are. But the next year saw Paul upgraded to yellow (the best non-elite group) and me to orange (the third non-elite group). Paul’s funeral was the day before the 2009 race, so there was no way I was going to participate, but I think he’d have been pleased to know that I was upgraded to green that year—the second non-elite group. (Paul was slated for the yellow group again.) But I digress…

Despite not participating for two years, the race organisers still felt I was worthy of being GREEN!

And, because he was listed as a runner instead of a walker, my soon-to-be-12-year-old nephew and running partner, Haden, has been seeded in the blue group. Which is the fifth back from the elite, but is still in front of the walkers.

Now, because you can start with a colour group behind yours but not in front of yours, I will be starting in the blue group. But I will be wearing my lovely green race bib. Yay! Haden and I are super-duper excited about the race and aim to run the whole thing. Yes, even Doomsday Hill!!

Oh, and it seems green is my theme this week. I’m working on an updated look for Just Frances and sent a test link to a couple of friends. And one wrote back saying all sorts of mean things that made me cry about how horrible he thinks my choice of greens is. So I sent him a set of four other greens and he replied with more harsh, cruel words, sending me into a spiral of despair and sorrow.

OK, I may be exaggerating a bit there. I think it would be fairer to say he questioned very nicely if the first shade was too dark (I agreed) then made a suggestion on a possible direction based on the next set of four. I hate to admit it, but his comments have actually given me a great idea for my green solution.

And one more thing on the topic of green: The thought of ‘green’ and ‘solution’ in a sentence made me think of the movie Soylent Green. It’s a great movie and if you’ve not yet seen it, you should!

We’ll be back!

Way back in March 2002 my bestest friend ever whom I’ve known for, like, ever and ever came to visit me in Scotland. And she totally hated it. She’d be the first to tell you that she doesn’t travel well and those darn people in Scotland couldn’t even speak English.

But it wasn’t all bad. No, she loved the Chinese food and the Pringles. And she really enjoyed Stirling. And she really loved our tour of Inverness and Loch Ness. In fact, I think it’s fair to say that the day we went to Loch Ness was the best day of the entire visit.*

Anyhow, it won’t be long now and we’ll be back along the shores of Nessie’s watery home as we run the Loch Ness Marathon together (with other great friends, too!) in October.

So to celebrate that fact, here’s a pretty picture that I took of Urquhart Castle on the shores of Loch Ness back on that first visit.

Yay!

* Actually, maybe the best day was the day after she met Paul. They got on so well at dinner that they made plans for us all to go to the Star Wars exhibit the next day. My best friend and boyfriend were in geek heaven!

The trouble with Bob and Dave

Bob and Dave* are my kidneys. Bob to my left; Dave to my right. Both are riddled with cysts and are considerably larger than normal kidneys. Bob is nearly double the average kidney size; Dave is a big’un, too, though slightly smaller than Bob.

Bob and Dave are the silent sufferers of polycystic kidney disease (PKD). I’ve known about the condition since I was five years old and am just one of several people in my family with the genetic disease. But I’ve always been lucky in that I’ve not had significant problems with my kidneys. In fact, if it weren’t for the cysts which are present in ultrasounds, you’d never know I had kidney disease at all!

From time to time I will get a kidney infection or a cyst will cause me a bit of pain. But my blood pressure is in the normal range and my microalbumin creatinine levels have always been awesomely normal. Which isn’t normal for someone with kidney disease—especially as they move further and further away from their first birthday—but I’ve never been normal, right?

I’ve long prided myself for my healthy diet and my exercise patterns. And my doctors have all agreed that those lifestyle habits have helped me to maintain my kidney function, blood pressure, and overall health for all of these years.

But then Paul died. And my diet went downhill. And I wasn’t getting any exercise. After all, cooking for two is more enjoyable than cooking for one—that’s what TV dinners are for. And running without your favourite running partner just sucks.

And that means that for nearly two years I’ve just not had my once-healthy lifestyle. I mean, it’s not been completely rubbish, but it’s not been as good as it once was. So it shouldn’t have come as too big a surprise when I was called back to my doctor’s office to discuss the results of my lab work from earlier this week.

Long story short: My Bob and Dave are no longer giving 100% to their task of keeping me healthy. They’ve started to look toward retirement, and it’s really making me sad.

OK, in fairness, I am not in kidney failure—nor do I expect to be in kidney failure in the near future. But for the first time in my life, my microalbumin levels are elevated. And that means that it’s time I realise that I’m not immortal. It’s time I realise that I do, in fact, have a progressive, genetic kidney disease and that I am, in fact, a sicky.

I’m trying not to blame myself for Bob and Dave’s lack of work effort. I mean, they are genetically pre-disposed for part-time work and early retirement. I tried to give them incentives to work hard for 35 years, but for the last two years I’ve not been the best manager. So of course they’re staging a bit of a work slowdown now.

I’ve been trying meaning to get better about managing my health for the last year, and I suppose that now I really do need to grow up and stop pouting. I must get back to my pre-widowed eating and exercise habits before the crew completely walks out on me.

But just in case they up and quit, I’ll give a quick plug for organ donation:**
If you’re not an organ donor already, consider signing up to give the gift of life because, despite the pretty picture I’ve drawn to accompany this story, kidneys do not actually grow on trees.

Now I’m signing off to go feel sorry for myself for a while. But I promise I will snap out of it soon. After all, depression isn’t good for your health!

* Thank you to Layla for providing my kidneys with names. It’s not something I’d considered in the past.
** I don’t need a kidney transplant at this time and likely won’t need one for years and years so please don’t feel the need to offer yours up. I’m naively optimistic that when if I do go into renal failure, they’ll have come up with a fantastically-awesome robot kidney solution! (Robo-Frances at your service!)

On beating children

I beat two children today. I didn’t plan to do it. I mean, I expected to beat one, but the other just happened. I also beat two adults. Sadly, I was beaten by a child, too.

Now, my guess is that you understand the joke. If the photo didn’t give it away, however, I’ll be a little clearer.

Today was the 3rd Annual Finaghty’s St. Patty’s 5K in Snoqualmie, Washington, and I participated with my two 11-year-old nephews, Adrian and Haden, my 11-year-old foster daughter, my sister, Celeste, and her friend David. My 13-year-old niece was going to join us but she was home sick. Oh, and my awesome parents came to show their support. As in: Daddy took photos whilst Mommy held handbags and jackets for the runners.

This was my foster daughter’s first-ever race so she held back with Celeste and David walking much of the course. The only runners in the group were me and the boys. And I was pretty confident that Haden would be in first, followed by Adrian, then me.

But I passed Adrian at the first mile marker and he wasn’t able to catch back up. (Please remember this was only his second race, and it was very hilly. This was probably the first and only time I’ll be beating him!)

Now, we’re all beat tired. But not so beat that we’re not already talking about our next race, the Bloomsday 12K in Spokane, Washington. In fact, we’re even talking about getting loads of folks to join us for a Team Buggie mojo-rally! (Stay tuned for confirmation and/or details of said rally.)

Mmm… a nice cold beer sounds good right about now.

Oh! You want times, too! So here goes:

Haden: 30:02
Just Frances: 32:16
Adrian: 36:15
My lovely foster daughter: 49:28
David: 49:34
Celeste: 49:44

Check out more race photos at Run Frances, Run!

Passing the baton

I think that one of the saddest things about not having children is the knowledge that there’s no one to pass on your traditions to. Paul and I were so excited about adopting and that was one of the exciting things for us: Passing on our knowledge, love, and traditions to future generations.

Because we were both runners, and generally ran in a race about once a month, we spoke excitedly about the possibility that our future children would enjoy the sport along with us. We looked forward to the day when the four of us could go to races as a family. We even decided that we’d take turns running for time so that one of us could run or walk slowly with the kids whilst the other ran hard to make time.

When I ran my first race after Paul died, I was thrilled to be joined by my then 10-year-old nephew, Haden. I was even more thrilled to see how much he enjoyed the race. And even more thrilled when he became my new running partner and started to talk excitedly about the day he could join the school cross country team.

One year later, I was joined by the now 11-year-old Haden and my other 11-year-old nephew, Adrian, for a race. And by this time, my 11-year-old foster daughter was starting to regret her hatred for sports.

When I mentioned to my foster daughter that Haden, Adrian, and I were participating in a 5K in mid-March, she felt a bit left out and wanted to know if she could join us. Yes, this from a girl who throws a fit at the thought of walking from one end of the mall to another—a self-titled hater of exercise.

So, we made a deal. If she could run two miles—non-stop and without complaining—I would sign her up for the St. Paddy’s 5K, too.

Today, my foster daughter ran two miles in 21:30. And she did it without complaining. (Well, she’s been complaining about her legs being sore since the run, but she didn’t complain during the run!)

I’m really pleased that in the past 13 months I’ve managed to get three kids excited about my favourite sport.

And I’m really pleased that I will have three 11-year-old running partners for my next race.

And I’m really pleased that despite the fact that I may never have children of my own to pass on my knowledge and traditions to, I am still having a [hopefully positive] impact on the next generation.

(And I hope that when I’m a decrepit, childless, old lady with no one to care for me, that these children remember me and stop by the old folks’ home from time-to-time to wipe the drool off my chin!)

Pain-loving partners

My nephew, Haden, and I ran the Partners in Pain 5K in Spokane this morning. It was Haden’s second time running the race and my fourth last. The official race times aren’t in yet, but I’m pleased to say that we both beat last year’s time. So that’s pretty awesome.

I’ll admit that there is a bit of sadness knowing that I’m running out of time to run with my new partner, but we’ve got at least three races to do together before I return ‘home’ to Scotland and I’m sure we can find a race to run when I return to the homeland for visits. But I won’t get too sad just yet because we already have plans to run races together in March, May, and July!

Next race: The St. Paddy’s 5K in Snoqualmie, Washington. Yay!

Check out more of my race photos here!

Working out and working through

Since my foster daughter had a social engagement this afternoon, I took advantage of the kid-less time to get some miles in on the gym’s treadmill. And I realised just how much I needed not only the workout, but the time to work through some thoughts.

As many runners will tell you, there is something cathartic about pounding the pavement—or in my case, the treadmill’s conveyor belt. So whilst my body was thriving on the adrenaline and endorphins during my five-mile run, my mind was getting a workout of its own.

First, the work out breakdown:
I put 70 minutes in on the treadmill (10 of those were cool-down minutes) today. It was a run-walk combination, though I did run more than walk. In the end, I put in 5.25 miles. With the exception of a short burst of speed at the end (and three walk breaks) I kept a steady running pace of a 12-minute mile. This is slower than my ideal 5K race pace, but I am going for endurance at the moment so will be keeping a slow pace for a while. And I felt good throughout the work out, which is awesome!

Now for the work through part of the story:
I tried to keep my mind focused on my running and breathing as much as possible, but by mile two my mind was completely immersed in a thought pattern that I couldn’t ignore, which is actually a good thing, because I was able to work through the thoughts.

You see, I’ve been beating myself up in recent months over a couple of my personal relationships. In a nut shell, I have allowed relationships to continue even though they ultimately make me feel bad about myself. The old Frances never would have put up with it, but I guess that I’ve been so hopeful that these relationships would flourish that I’ve let my standards slide.

It’s hard, because the friends in question aren’t necessarily bad friends, they’re just unable (or unwilling) to be what I want or need. They have priorities that don’t include me: Spouses, children, jobs, families, and closer friends. And that means that my needs are often placed at the end of their lists. (Which is OK—we all have to triage our lives!)

There’ve been cancelled plans, un-returned phone calls and emails, broken promises, and (in some cases) flagrant disregard of feelings. And I’ve accepted those things because I know that these friends have other priorities and I don’t want to be a burden.

So, I worked through what I want from each of these relationships and what I am getting from them now. And I’ve decided that at least one needs to go immediately, another may end up gone soon, and the other needs a lot more thought—because I really don’t want to lose that one.

I know I sound harsh, but in all three cases I’ve tried to be open with communication and I’ve made myself available to them around the clock. But I feel neglected over and over again, and it makes me feel like a burden. The majority of our communications are initiated by me, which makes me feel that I am being tolerated rather than wanted. And it really hurts.

By mile four I’d resolved to act on these broken relationships. But I also began to think about the positive new relationships in my life. You see, since Paul died I have gained new friends and re-found old ones. I am excited about the direction that some of my new friendships are going because I feel so happy and secure in them; I feel wanted and needed in them. And I’m thrilled to have found renewed friendships with people I know from school—though our communications are mostly electronic now, I feel loved and wanted and cared for by them. In all cases with these new and renewed friendships, I know that they would be there to support me when I need them without me feeling like a burden. (And I will be there for them.)

[I accept that relationships are a two-way street and that I am not an innocent bystander in the breakdown of friendships. I also don’t think that dissolving friendships is a bad thing—you know, ebbs and flows and all that. Also, I don’t believe that they read my blog, so I’m not posting this as some passive-aggressive message. I promise!]

OK, I know that this may seem like a negative post, but it’s not really negative in my mind. You see, I decided that 2011 was going to be a year of taking care of my needs: my emotional needs, my mental needs, and my physical needs. Part of that means that I need to address things that are burdens in my life. Sadly, that means that I need to get rid of things that upset me. But it also means that I am focusing more on the things that make me happy. And ultimately, these steps will help me to find peace in my world.

Fannies and haggis

The second annual “Freeze Your Fanny and Burns’ Supper Extravaganza” weekend is officially over and I think it was a great success! There were 18 of us for dinner all together and everyone seemed to enjoy the haggis!

I realize that there is so much to say about such a fun-filled weekend, but rather than a big story, I’ll just give some of the highlights then you can check out the photo gallery and YouTube videos for more details. So, here’s how the weekend went:

  • Most everyone arrived Friday evening and we had a blast playing games and visiting.
  • My 11-year-old nephews, Haden and Adrian, and I ran the Freeze Your Fanny 5K on Saturday morning where Haden took 2nd place in his age group and Adrian took 3rd. This was Haden’s second time running the race and Adrian’s first-ever race. (Final times: Haden: 30:04; Adrian: 33:04; Me: 36:50, which isn’t bad since I’d just come off bed rest and took it easy.)
  • Flik and Dad had a Scrabble re-match where, though Daddy won, Flik showed a vast improvement to her skills. (Final score: 226 – 281)
  • Various sisters, uncles, and nieces hiked Kamiak Butte on Saturday and Sunday.
  • Celeste, believe it or not, hiked Kamiak twice in one day!
  • Jessica won the Hula Hoop competition.
  • With all of the food served throughout the weekend, I didn’t wash a single dish! (Thanks to my awesome sisters!)
  • I also didn’t peel any neeps or tatties!
  • Everyone tried the haggis and most had at least a second serving if not a third. In fact, many people even had fried haggis for breakfast on Sunday!
  • Saturday’s dinner ended with Flik playing Auld Lang Syne on her trumpet.
  • Sunday ended with my foster daughter very upset over saying goodbye to her new best friend, my niece Cassandra. (They’ll meet again, for sure!)
  • We laughed and laughed and laughed and had a lot and a lot and a lot of fun all weekend long! (Except for the goodbye tears.)

Check out photos from the weekend here!

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And check out some fun videos from the weekend below!

I can do it! [So says The Kid]

My foster daughter is pretty excited about my plans to run a marathon. She thinks I’m an amazing runner and that I’ll do really well. In fact, she is convinced that I will be in the top 10.

Yes, really. Even when I explained that last year there were more than 2,400 runners. Even when I explained that the top 50 last year all ran it in less than 3 hours and I ‘hope’ to finish mine in under 6.

Her response was, basically: “Well you won’t win with that attitude.”

OK, there is no way on God’s Earth that I will make it in the top 10. Or even the top 100. Or even the top 1,000. But I do like her attitude about having a positive attitude on the subject.

So to add to her inspiring words, here are some words of wisdom from Steve Prefontaine:

Life’s battles don’t always go to the strongest or fastest man, but sooner or later the man who wins is the fellow who thinks he can.

Time or distance?

Today I had all intentions of doing 8 miles on the treadmill at the gym. I was free of the kid for a few hours so had the time to take it easy and not worry about how long it took. I figured I’d run a couple miles, walk a couple miles, run a couple miles, and then walk the rest.

Now, it should be noted that in the year and a half since Paul died, the furthest I’ve run is 6.2 miles. And it should also be noted that I’ve not really done any training. My last run (5 miles) was about a month ago. The run before that was about a month earlier still (a 10K race). So, 8 miles was actually a bit of an aggressive target.

When I got to the gym, I noticed that the treadmills had a time limit of 60 minutes. After which, they will go into cool down mode. So I figured I’d do 60 minutes then restart the machine to finish off my 8 miles.

As I got going, I realised this was going to be hard. But I got a good pace going and started to feel confident. Then I heard Paul in the back of my mind telling me to stop being stupid and not push myself too hard. And I knew he was right.

And so, I decided to just do 60 minutes and not worry about distance just yet.

I am still trying to determine what my official training regimen will be, but for now I’ve told myself that I’m going to stick with 60 minutes for the month of December. Over the course of the month, I will try to increase the mileage within that timeframe with the goal of running a 10K (6.2 miles) by the end of the month.

In January, I’ll think about my next step and whether I will go for increased mileage or increased distance. I’m starting my training early enough so I am not concerned that I’m taking it slow. Because Paul is right—I can’t be stupid and push myself too hard when I’m training. That’s what race day is for!

Just 300 days until the Loch Ness Marathon!!

I’m goin’ for it!

I’m a runner. I have been since school when I ran on the cross country team. I enjoy running. Really, I do. But I never wanted to run a marathon. I thought maybe I’d do a half-marathon at some point, but 26.2 miles? I don’t think so.

Shortly after we got married, I convinced Paul to join my gym. I asked him to try it for one month. After the end of week one, I figured he’d drop at the end of the month. But then he found the treadmills. And he started to go to the gym with excitement!

Within a few months, we purchased a really good treadmill and ended the gym memberships. His goal at that time was to run a 5K. And he did it. Then I mentioned the Bloomsday 12K and he shook his head ‘No!’ but within a few weeks, we were registered for that race, too. But he would never run a marathon, he said—not even a half-marathon.

But a year later, he ran his first half-marathon. And all of the sudden, he decided that he would run a marathon before he turned 50. But he couldn’t wait that long, so a year after that first half-marathon, he was meant to run his first marathon. But he died a month before the race at the age of 47.

I remember thinking at the time that I would run the race in his memory. But I was in the throes of grief and there was no way I could walk one mile—let alone run more than 26! A year later, I still wasn’t ready.

But now I am. Or at least, I think I am. Mentally, mind you. Certainly not physically!

Yes, I am planning to run the Loch Ness Marathon on Sunday, October 2, 2011, in Inverness, Scotland. And I’ve got a couple of friends talked into running it with me. And I hope to talk more people into running with me, too.

Now, I say that I’m going to run it but I have to be completely honest with you and myself and say that, medically, I don’t know if I can. I have a hard time maintaining my platelet counts when I’m running 5Ks and 10Ks, I don’t know that my body will like me running a marathon—or even that it will like me training for one.

So, I guess that I’m planning on doing a marathon. Run, walk, crawl… one way or another, I want to complete a marathon before what would have been Paul’s 50th birthday.

Yes folks, I’m insane. Feel free to join me along the route—running or cheering from the sidelines!

10 on 10-10-10

WooHoo! Today is 10-10-10 and I’ve just run a 10K. Yay!

This makes me happy because:

I must admit that we were a bit slow because neither of us put in the training required for such a race. I could blame it on the fact that I can’t get out there and run because of my foster daughter, but that’s just an excuse. I could claim that I’ve been too stressed for training, but we all know that training would have brought about those lovely en‘Dolphins’ which would have helped to alleviate some of the stress, so that’s a rubbish excuse, too.

Still, I’ve managed a 10K on 10-10-10 which is more than most people I know have done today. So I’m going to take my accomplishment and be happy for it. And as I reminded Haden, no matter how slow we may have been, at least we did it!

Official times aren’t up yet, but we both finished in under 1:20 which was our goal. Haden was about 1:16:16 and I was about 1:16:21.

Yay! for me and Yay! for my nephew!

Check out more of my races here!

Ready to run (guest post)

Today’s post is brought to you by my totally awesome nephew, Haden. Please welcome my first-ever guest blogger. Yay!

I’m here in a motel room in Spokane with my aunt for a race tomorrow morning on 10-10-10. After we got to Spokane and got settled in our motel we walked down to the Hilton Courtyard by the Spokane Convention Center to get our running numbers (1172 ME! and 1295 Aunt Awesome!). We came back to the motel after stopping at a vintage clothes store (boring!!!) and ordered pizza!!! I’m really excited about my first ever 10K. Now I’m just chilling and watching TV, and writing this blog.

Aunt Frances says we only compete against ourselves in races. But in this race I’m going to beat her. Check back tomorrow on 10-10-10 for our race times and more pictures.

A note from Just Frances:
Thanks for guest blogging today, Haden. I’m way-excited about running the race with you in the morning! Yay! (And I’m planning to beat you so watch out, kiddo!)

Running commentary

When I run I think. Even when I’m listening to my iPod, my mind is racing through one thought after another. It jumps from here to there with silly randomness. I can’t control it; I’ve tried. But I suppose that it does tell a lot about the sorts of things that weigh on my mind, because often the things that I think about when I’m running are not the things I would think about if I were told to sit down and think.

I don’t want to scare anyone away. And worse, I don’t want anyone to think I’ve finally cracked and it’s time for a padded cell. But I’m going to share some of the random thoughts that pop into my head when I’m running.

  • OK Frances! You’ve got four miles to run today and you’re going to do it! Let’s go!
  • Hey, the rec center is pretty nice when it’s empty!
  • I should have done this yesterday when I was out. Then I could have just vegged out on the couch today.
  • I have to remember to re-wash the towels when I get home. Stupid rain storm! I guess it’s my fault for not bringing them in off the line last night. But still. Stupid rain storm!
  • I wonder if that old lady who called my number by mistake yesterday ever got a hold of her friend.
  • Why do I get so many wrong number calls? Oh, I hate that!
  • I was really dismissive of my friend when he suggested a time for a phone chat over the weekend. I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings. I guess I wasn’t mean, I just declined the invitation. So, whatever.
  • Actually, I have been pretty mean to him lately. He must be a masochist or he would have written me off by now.
  • He must know I don’t mean to be mean. But that’s still not fair. I just need to stop taking my frustration out on the innocent!
  • I really do have nice friends.
  • I’m actually pretty lucky to have made a couple of new friends this last year. I must stop referring to them as Paul’s friends one of these days because they’re my friends now, too.
  • Blogs are great! I’m enjoying getting to know one of my new friends by reading her blog. It makes me feel like I’ve known her my entire life. I wish I did. I bet life would have been a lot funner with a friend like her growing up.
  • Oh! Must email her sister about my holiday plans for this fall. It will be fun to meet her for the first time. If she’s anything like her little sis, it will be a blast.
  • I need to make sure I’ve blocked my work calendar. I suppose I’ll have to check my email a bit when I’m in Canada, but that’s OK.
  • Wow! It’s almost October. I need to formally RSVP to Lindsay about her wedding. I hope I can manage more than a long-weekend. A two nights’ stay in Scotland isn’t exactly what I’d call a holiday.
  • I wonder if I can wear the dress that I wore to last year’s Old Hacks’ dinner to her wedding. I mean, it’s a different set of people and I don’t think that any of Paul’s old university friends will be there… I really don’t want to have to go dress shopping…
  • I wonder if I can find someone to go to the wedding with me. I’m not looking forward to going to a wedding by myself right now. Especially one that Paul should be at. He was really looking forward to her wedding.
  • Ugg! Has it only been two miles?! I am so out of shape. This is hard. I wonder if I can just call it a day…
  • Yum. That banana bread I had this morning was really good. I should make more. No, I should make pumpkin bread. And I should really remember to tie my hair back because I found one of my hairs in the last loaf. Yuck. Oh well, at least it was my own hair…
  • I wonder what I’d be doing today if Paul hadn’t died?
  • I guess we’d have finalized the adoption by now, so we’d have gone to Sunday Mass with the kids.
  • Yum! Then we would have made a big Sunday roast. Paul really did make the best Yorkshire puddings. I wish I’d let him teach me how to make them. Now I’ll never know.
  • I wonder what the kids would have thought about having a ‘funny foreigner’ for a daddy. I wonder if we’d have been good parents…
  • I wonder if I’ll ever get to be a mom now…
  • Oh! I like this song, I’m going to turn it up.
  • Stop it! Don’t sing along!
  • Wow! I’ve almost gone four miles already. I feel great! Maybe I’ll run five miles instead…
  • No, maybe not Frances. Four and a quarter miles is a long enough run. Start your cool down before you drop!
  • Maybe I’ll start a new draft of my application letter this afternoon.
  • I have to email Anna to figure out when to meet. It’s going to be so nice to catch up with her. It’s going to be so nice to have her help with my letter!!
  • I wonder when I’ll hear if I’ve gotten accepted…
  • I wonder which school I’d rather go to…
  • Ah, who cares! You’ll go to whichever one accepts you and you’ll be grateful for it!
  • I wonder if… NO! Don’t start wondering about what will happen if you don’t get accepted. Be positive.
  • I am beat! Can I stop now?
  • Oh, go on! You’re only a quarter mile from five. Keep going…
  • Must remember to buy onions and goat cheese so that I can make that risotto recipe.
  • And cat food. Don’t forget the cat food!
  • Way-hey!! That’s five miles! My furthest distance in more than a year. Who cares if I walked that last three-quarter mile? I’m counting it!

Yeah. That’s the highlights. The conversation in my head continued into the locker room, through the grocery store, and on the 25-mile drive home. If only there was a way to harness the energy created by useless thoughts…

Cutting the cord

I am cutting the cord. Or rather, I am cutting the cable. I’m not replacing cable with satellite and in my rural neck of the woods there is no such thing as aerial reception. So, basically, no more television for this gal!*

I’m more than a year late in doing this. Paul and I got cable a few months after moving into our new home for two reasons: 1) It was during the 2008 presidential campaign and I wanted to watch the debates and 2) my family was coming out for Thanksgiving and it would have caused problems if we couldn’t have the football game on during the day.

By the time spring rolled around, we decided it was time to get rid of the cable because we were spending too much time on the couch zoning out instead of talking to each other. So the decision was made that I would cancel it when I paid May’s bill. But Paul died before that happened and I didn’t have the energy to brush my teeth let alone call the cable company.

It was great having cable this past year. A real saving grace in some ways because it meant voices in an otherwise silent house. I could sit on the couch and zone out to whatever was on TV and not have to think about anything else. But now I find myself zoning out on shows that I’m not really interested in whilst neglecting my once-enjoyed hobbies and activities. I sit on the couch from the time I get home until I go to bed. That’s about four hours of mindless television and commercials “entertaining” me every night. And I’ve had enough!

So what will I do without TV?
I will start reading my ever-growing stack of great books and I will listen to my favorite CDs on the Bose. I will go out for walks and hikes and bike rides – after all, I live in an amazingly-beautiful area with loads of outdoor recreation opportunities. I will write. I will crochet and knit. I will sit outside in the evening sun and take in the sounds of nature. I will take time to cook nice meals and I will take the time to enjoy them at the table instead of wolfing my food down on the couch in front of the telly.

Certainly, it will be difficult getting used to not having an endless supply of rubbish programming spread out over nearly 50 channels, but once I remember how much I used to enjoy the simplicity of my own company, I’m sure I will be celebrating the severed cords!

As of the 1st of August, I will be cable-less. Stay tuned for a post about the insanity it causes me when I realize how boring life is without the time-sucking television vortex!

Of course, it hasn’t escaped my mind that I will be saving $49.67 each month. That’s $596.04 a year! Yep, that will be a nice little addition to my very meager savings account.

* I will continue to get my favorite shows on the Internet because I just can’t live without EastEnders. I’ve also subscribed to NetFlix so that I can watch old TV shows or movies from time-to-time. (I know that seems silly as I’m talking about cutting the cable, but I still want a little bit of entertainment.)

To train and listen

I am one of those people who pushes herself a little (a lot?) too hard when there’s a goal to be met. But I’m trying to listen to my body a little more so that I don’t push to the point of illness or injury.

My 11-year-old nephew and I are currently training for a 10K race on 10/10/10 and decided to use today as a chance to get a run in on the Bill Chipman Trail. The four-mile run would be his longest – ever – and the furthest I’ve run in more than a year. Oh, and it was a hot, hot, hot day!

As we got going, I told the kid we’d be taking it slow. He was happy to go along with that plan. As we neared the two-mile marker I was pleased to see that it was actually about a quarter mile closer than I’d remembered, which gave me a bit of a (much needed) energy kick.

But as we neared mile three I could feel myself weakening. I’d not eaten breakfast (bad!) and I’d not had nearly enough water over the past few days (also bad!). Part of my brain said to keep going – after all, it was only another mile – but the other part couldn’t help but remember the dream I’d had the night before where I collapsed and was unable to call out for help.

It was a hard decision to make, but I decided to walk the last mile. And as I walked I reminded myself that I’ve not been training much, I have two ‘major medical’ obstacles to deal with, and I’m no longer the high school cross country star. (What? I’m not a teenager anymore? Oh no!)

I can accept that my nephew will get a better time at the race in October, but I can’t accept that I won’t be able to finish the race. So, I’ve promised myself that I will make a strong effort to eat better, stay hydrated, keep training, and (most importantly) listen to my body!

Yep, time to get ready to run!

Dining at Steptoe

For reasons unknown, I got an urge to finally take a trip up to the top of Steptoe Butte today. It was my first visit, which is a bit sad since it’s less than 16 miles round-trip from my front door to the top of the butte. Well, 16 miles if I take a short cut through the wheat and lentil fields. It’s closer to 25 miles if I stay on paved roads. But anyhow, it’s close.

Moments after having the idea I tried to talk myself into putting if off to the weekend so that I could make some homemade fried chicken and potato salad for a picnic lunch. But I knew I’d find a reason to not do it so made a vow to stop at the store and buy everything I needed for a picnic dinner instead.

So, store-bought picnic in tow, I swung by the house to change then headed up the hill.

It was very peaceful and relaxing. I sat there eating my dinner whilst looking out over the rolling hills of the Palouse and watched a few butterflies chase each other around the wild rose bushes.

I even found enjoyment in the fact that the top of the butte is covered with antennas. I suppose that as it’s the highest point in the area, it was deemed prime real estate for our modern-day communications needs. I wonder what insightful conversations Paul and I would have had about their placement…

They say that you can’t find amazing places to dine outside of the city, but I think my views this evening beat out anything you can see from the top of the Space Needle!

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The Fishing Song

Last week I posted a silly ramble about all things fish. That ramble prompted a childhood friend to suggest we grab our poles and head out to Hanson Ponds like we did back in the good ol’ days.

So, we’ve decided to get our fishing licenses and spend Labor Day Weekend in the homeland reminiscing about the simpler days of yore.

But all of this fish talk got me thinking about a fishing song I love, “Fishin’ in the Dark” by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. So I had to go to YouTube to listen to it. Which, as you may know, meant that I spent a while clicking through countless other videos. Which brought me to perhaps one of the best fishing songs I’ve ever heard.

Check it out! After all, Wednesdays aren’t as much fun without a little laughter!

Happy fishin’!

I ran; I nearly stumbled

Photo credits to my dad, RoyI ran the Runner Stumbles 5K yesterday with my nephew. My cousin and her son joined us, too, which was a fun little treat. I have to say, I thought that my third race without Paul would have been easier, but for some reason I found it emotionally difficult to run this race without him. Maybe because it was my hometown race. Maybe because I was running the shorter course while Paul and I always ran the longer 10K course. Maybe because some days are harder than others without any reason. But I managed to make it.

Just as I thought I was going to start crying because I couldn’t stop thinking about Paul, Dignity by Deacon Blue* came on the iPod. I know that I’m the one who set the play list, so I shouldn’t be surprised it was there, but the gadget was playing all of the songs randomly so I didn’t know when (or if) that song would play. That song gave me the kick I needed though which made a difference to the entire race for me.

My time was slower than I really wanted – but faster than the time my doctor wanted to me run it in. But (shhh…) we won’t tell her.

In addition to the fun of running with the family, the enjoyable part of the race was that I passed two women who were on the high school cross country team with me (they finished about five minutes behind me) and one gal who is in high school now who informed me that she’d be beating me. Yeah, in the end she was about three minutes behind me. So there, you little brat.

This race really did kick my butt. I need to get in gear though because my nephew and I have a 10K race coming up and I can’t let him down!

Check out more of my race photos here!

*Dignity was Paul’s ‘victory song’ when he ran for student office at Edinburgh University.

I’m a runner (?)

I’m a runner. Or at least I used to be a runner. Now I sort of fake it. But I hope that eventually I’ll remember that I used to love running.

I ran on the cross country team when I was in school and I was really, really good at it. Team sports were never my thing (disliking people didn’t help) and with running I could push myself and not have to worry about what my team mates were up to. It felt so great to just hit the pavement and go!

After we got married, Paul got into running too. Really got into it! Soon, we were running races together – we got to the point where we ran a short race (mostly 5Ks) about once a month. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Paul so he kept training and training and training. In fact, his first marathon was just a month away when he died. (He’d run two half-marathons already.)

[Check out the Ryan Road Race Record to see shirts from the races we ran!]

I stopped running when Paul died. It was nine months before I ran again. My re-entry to the sport was the annual Freeze Your Fanny 5K in Lewiston, Idaho, with my then 10-year-old nephew. It was his first-ever race. And he loved it! Two weeks later, he came back to run the Partners in Pain 5K with me in Spokane. I didn’t train for either race, and my times showed it!

I made it back to the gym toward the end of April and have been trying to get in shape and back into running. The 31st Annual Runner Stumbles race is taking place in my hometown 4th of July weekend and my now 11-year-old nephew will be running it with me. Paul and I always ran the 10K, but as I’ve not trained enough, I’ll be doing the 5K this year. It’s my third race without Paul, but my nephew is turning out to be a fantastic race partner so that helps.

I don’t know what it’s going to take to get me back to the days where I yearned to lace up and run, but I’m trying to find that passion again. It doesn’t help that every time I start feeling like running, I get sick and my platelet counts seem to drop, but they’re going strong at the moment so I’m taking advantage of it. I’ve told myself that I’m going to run before work tomorrow morning. Stay tuned to see if I’ve lied to myself… again!

And check out my new running photo gallery, “Run, Frances, Run“, to see  photos and shirts from recent races!

Climb that mountain high

Ow! Ouch! Owie!

OK, not yet, but come tomorrow those are the words I will be exclaiming!

I had a rough night last night so was unable to drag myself out of bed at 5:00 a.m. to hit the gym. So, I had to go after work because I just had to test out my new iPod. But apparently, when you hang back at the office to finish up those last couple of emails, by the time you get to the gym all the treadmills are in use.

And so, I hit the hill-climbing machine. And because I’m that person who has to be awesome and push that little bit more that I should, I set it to a nice, brisk pace with a nice, steep incline. And I could feel the burn! You definitely use a different set of muscles for climbing steep hills than you do for running your arse off!

As I climbed I realized that if I played with that machine often enough, I could totally head out for the high hunt with the guys and could hike in to help carry out any animals that happen to be unlucky enough to get caught in the cross hairs.

More importantly, I realized that if I played with that machine often enough, I could totally have amazingly awesome ‘buns of steel’, sleek legs ‘up to here’, and gams that would make a 1930’s Hollywood film gangster stop and whistle!

But if I’m honest, I’d rather just run.

Lady Warriors

I took the day off work yesterday to watch my niece and her high school softball team play in the first day of the state championship play-offs. After a bit of a rain delay, the Cle Elum Roslyn Warriors beat the Montesano Bulldogs 2 – 1.

They play again today in an effort to win the title.

Virginia asked that I also mention that Montesano was the defending state champions. And last year the Warriors lost to them 11 – 1.

As you can imagine, the Bulldogs were not as excited as the Warriors!


http://www.JustFrances.com

Back to the gym

I found my way back to the gym today. It’s been just over a year since I last went and it felt a bit weird to be honest. Paul and I were runners and I tried to hit the gym 2-3 times a week before work then we’d run the Bill Chipman Trail or participate in a road race together on the weekends. After he died, I didn’t have the inclination to run or work out – and I certainly didn’t have the calorie intake to support physical activity anyhow!

In late January and early February, I did two 5K road races with my 10-year-old nephew – without a bit of training. I must say, my times were shameful and my body was extremely sore for a few days after each race. Obviously, both things are signs that I need to get in gear! (Not to mention that if I go much longer without taking care of myself, people will think I’m a bingo player!)

So, with my hometown “Runner Stumbles” 10K race coming up on July 4, I figured I’d best get in gear and get training. My nephew, who will be 11 by the time of the race, is already looking forward to it and assures me that he is training for the race. Apparently, he’s caught the running bug! I sometimes wonder if it’s because Uncle Paul was a runner… but I don’t know if he’d admit it!

Anyhow, I’m trying to get back in the habit of taking regular exercise as part of my renewed get-fit regime. I’ve been neglecting my health for a year now, and it’s time to get my backside in gear! What does this mean to you? Probably not much – other than having to read about my gym and running activities from time to time.