I completed my third 5K as of Saturday morning. I'm proud to say that in three months, I've shaved 3 minutes and 22 seconds off of my original race time and each race gets to be more and more fun. This one was particularly important for me as it was the first race that I didn't know anyone and decided to "go it alone" outside of the runners in my office. I was somewhat sad not to have a face that I knew in the group running with me, but at the same time it afforded me a glimpse at what can be, the opportunity to meet new and interesting people through this hobby that I've picked up.
The race snaked through downtown Birmingham on an early southern summer morning. It was cool, but humid, and the course had it's share of challenges (the oh so steady incline to get over the 22nd avenue bridge and my God the sun was bright on 2nd avenue south -I thought it would finally burn my eyes out of their sockets before I turned out of it). I found myself alone again for pretty much the whole thing except for the start, which is always packed. It's odd, but no matter what speed I run, I seem to be the only person running at that speed. I'm not in a pack of runners or a group of runners - EVER? I don't know if this is the result of an unrealized competitive issue, or if I am just so mediocre that I am neither good enough to be in the front nor bad enough to be in the back. Either way, I finished in better time than my last race and I felt proud. I do a lot of thinking and some praying and looking around during the race, but this one seemed to go faster because there was a lot to see. Downtown is so much fun...I wish I could run it more often. The smell of the bridge at Morris Ave wasn't so pleasant, but it was still fun to get an opportunity to run underneath a place that traditionally isn't safe to walk through either due to traffic or homeless people. As I ran past Morris Avenue, I remembered my encounter with the crazy giant of a woman in her red and white stripped shirt as I took black and white photos of downtown (in high heeled sandals no less, which made it very difficult to run you see?). What a memory of fear that never left me. I could probably still recognize her face today.
But I diverge...
The best part of the entire race is that my family was there to cheer me on. Mason and Clare got me on my way, then met me at the end. I love it because I realize in my more mature age that his encouragement is vital to my success. Also, I know seeing Mason marks the end of the challenge and I'm almost done. It's a great way to end something so personally rewarding for me.
so, I have no pictures from the event, but a lot of fun memories. I'm now looking for my July race and hoping to break through even more physical barriers with this one.
Walls and such
As with everyone, my life, who I am, changes with every experience and every passing day. I am a vastly different person than I was a year ago and certainly from ten years ago or even longer. While the change has been gradual, it's been so substantial that I don't personally resemble that girl anymore. Maybe we kind of look the same in some respects, but nothing about who I am now can be found in the memories of "that" girl.
Oh my gosh, I was so selfish. Oh my gosh. The ways that I was selfish are too many to describe. At the time, I'm sure I thought I was more self-'less', but then I think about it and wonder how I could have thought that by looking at my behavior. The best analogy is that of a wildfire. Looking at my past, the only image that comes to mind is this blaze of fire that could be useful or even welcome, but destructive to everything around it because of the lack of boundaries. This went on far longer that I want to admit, even worse, as time passed I became more and more destructive. That is, until God picked me up, physically moved me away from some of the mess that I had made and figuratively "said", let's give this another go. I recognized this second chance (or ten millionth chance if the truth be known).
Since then, I've dedicated myself to becoming a different person. It's a really slow process though, you know? It's hard to come to the realization that you're essentially a pretty bad person and that you've done pretty much nothing with your life of any substance. It's even harder to want to change. It's even harder to actually change. It takes so much time and setbacks are very deflating. I always wince when I hear the Parable of the Talents for this reason. Seriously, inside in the pit of my stomach, I wince because I know which person I am. No doubt about it. No sugar-coating.
So here I am all of these years later, feeling like I'm getting some of this figured out in the sense that I'm at least starting to move in the correct direction. I'm moving forward and moving forward until...one day...wham...I feel like I've run into the brick wall of my past and it makes me shrink inside of myself with shame. What in the world? Why do memories have this ability? I mean, I didn't even do anything to bring up the memory. Something just triggered something and blam.
Ugh.
I realize here that I must have made myself sound horrible...honestly, the truth is ugly and I am not here to say otherwise.
So, I realize that this shame isn't healthy and I realize that I have learn to embrace this past person as part of who this present person is, right? But, the problem is that I want to pretend this past person didn't exist. Which has presented a whole other set of problems for me and it's just really complicated because I only want the bad stuff to not have existed. The good stuff can stay. Of course, that's not the way it works. The truth is that this person did exist and without all of those things then I wouldn't be here now. While in theory I understand this concept, applying it is proving to be difficult. That shame is really building a wall between moving forward and being stuck in the past. I feel like that I cannot possibly be who I want to be by hiding who I was because that is obviously part of who I am now (mind boggling I know...this is elementary stuff here and I am writhing in my discomfort for being so simple minded).
If you read my blog, then you know that I'm not an answer giver because I don't have them. This is just where I am right now....stuck trying to take down this latest set of bricks because I haven't been able to figure out that my past is very much a part of my present. So frustrating. So so frustrating.
Real Life Monster
House Representative James Fagan.
I'm not from Massachusetts so I have no say in whether this man returns as part of our goverment in the future, but his words regarding child victims speak for themselves. I am shattered that someone would even utter them, and saddened to know that he has a prominent role in leading this country into the future.
http://www.bostonherald.com/news/regional/politics/view.bg?articleid=1102761
It's not that I mind his stance. I disagree with his objection, but I don't mind him objecting to the 20 year mandatory term - it's his right. However, I do have a serious problem with the imagery he uses with regard to the victims, who are hypothetically 6 years of age where his "point" begins.
What I don't understand is why we're not all out there fighting for the victims rights for children? If we don't speak up, then who will? It seems like only parents that have had bad things happen to their children are trying to curtail future problems. They're already hurting, they live with a reality that I don't want to know, and they're trying harder to keep this from happening to any of us than I am.
It changes things when you look at it like that.
I'm not from Massachusetts so I have no say in whether this man returns as part of our goverment in the future, but his words regarding child victims speak for themselves. I am shattered that someone would even utter them, and saddened to know that he has a prominent role in leading this country into the future.
http://www.bostonherald.com/news/regional/politics/view.bg?articleid=1102761
It's not that I mind his stance. I disagree with his objection, but I don't mind him objecting to the 20 year mandatory term - it's his right. However, I do have a serious problem with the imagery he uses with regard to the victims, who are hypothetically 6 years of age where his "point" begins.
What I don't understand is why we're not all out there fighting for the victims rights for children? If we don't speak up, then who will? It seems like only parents that have had bad things happen to their children are trying to curtail future problems. They're already hurting, they live with a reality that I don't want to know, and they're trying harder to keep this from happening to any of us than I am.
It changes things when you look at it like that.
No Country For Old Men
We finally watched this movie last night, and it was wonderful. I am a true lover of the Cohen Brothers's style, which for me, means that their movies watch as if you're reading a book. They pay extraordinary amounts of attention to detail and it shows in each scene. I want to go on and on with how they do it in this movie and what was great about it and why I want to watch it again immediately, but I think you would be better suited to simply watch the movie, then you'll see what I mean. Simply remarkable.
Sunday afternoons are made for pictures
I've been looking back through early early pictures this afternoon after church. Mason's off buying another drum set (it's sooo cool) and headed to practice... sigh so here I am with a napping baby and thousands of pictures to occupy my time.
How did I get so lucky? I certainly didn't deserve it, but I don't think there is anyone alive more grateful than I am as a result.
She's so funny and so amazing and always has been. Early picture proves it. New story just reinforces it....
Last night we went and had dinner with some friends, who gave Clare a pencil and a pad of paper and let her go in their house. Did I mention that they were BRAVE friends?
Instead of doing anything destructive, she was absolutely the cutest thing I've ever seen (it was a 50/50 shot, it couldn't have gone either way folks...you know this). I had trouble concentrating on conversation and not just watching her be Clare in all of her Clare-ness. She carried that pad of paper all over their living room like she was taking notes. Then she would contemplate what she was going to 'write' next and then move along and take more notes. Eventually she pulled up onto the couch, sat back, crossed her feet over one another and just wrote and wrote and wrote (ok, she was scribbling...I'm a proud momma - sue me). This went on for a while and she was really so serious about it.
I watch stuff like this and wonder what in the world she's going to be like as an adult. How this serious and contemplative side of her will manifest itself in later life. What she might bring to the table as a result. She was born this wonderful person. People tell us all of the time that we're doing such a good job, but the truth is...she was really born this way...very balanced in her personality and mannerisms. I'm so proud of her, and she makes me laugh all of the time to boot.
See, I told you I was lucky.
How will I know?
What am I hear for?
Have you ever asked yourself this question and followed it through in your mind time and time again until you were exhausted by it and just quit asking it of yourself? Have you ever been so disgusted by your lack of ability to recognize any particular and useful strength that you can share with the world? Have you ever realized what you loved and wanted to do and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was what you were born to do, but been so afraid to do ti that you never did? Have you ever wondered just where to start?
ME TOO!!! See it's not just you.
I have asked myself all of the questions so often. I mean, I really ache over this more than I care to admit. Not because I want some kind of recognition, but I swear I think I have so much more to offer than this person that I am today, but I also feel like I'm holding back for some reason and I don't know from what or why.
Read this: http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/06/19/heroes.agoglia/index.html
I read this story and was just amazed that someone just did it. He says (in summary), I have the resources, the know how and the desire to help, so I do. What the??? He must be crazy right? I mean obviously he's crazy because no one sane would do this....right?
I firmly believe that everyone of us desires to find out what he/she can do for the greater good! They/I want to know how they can help and not just by sending a check...they want to really help! They want to put their talents and skills to use! They want to know that they did more than just read the sensationalized headlines and gasp at the injustices or sadness or destruction or devastation all around us! I know I am part of the "they", and I want to know that there is more to me than this person who recognizes a need, but just doesn't quite do anything about it because it might make me uncomfortable. Oh to be less hesitant.
I think this blog entry kind of sounds like a rant, but the truth is, it's kind of frenzied because it's something I'm frenzied about inside - and IT'S GETTING WORSE with every passing day. I don't have an agenda, a cause to promote, or souls to save. I don't intend to be blasphemous by saying that, but I'm not out selling my religion. I genuinely just want to help people in need without pretenses. However, I do feel obligated to admit, and I do so freely, that my faith has helped me to see beyond myself in a way that I was not able to do before I accepted Christ and his teachings as my way in this life. So I bring honor to God and my faith practice by knowing that without them working in my life I would not be this person and I still would not care like I do now.
I just don't know where/what/when/how...the lack of details that make this impossible to live with.
What next? Who knows.....
But, I do know this: my life is great, but my just enjoying myself is not good enough any more. Thank you Lord for the blessing of being able to enjoy myself. For someone with my past and the constantly changing nature of it, I recognize the blessing of that peace. But, the truth is I want to make a difference in more lives than just my own. I need to make a difference, there are people out there counting on us to make some kind of difference in some way that will positively impact them forever (no seriously, they're out there, they just don't know they're waiting on help from us, and we don't know who they are yet) .
Oh, and in case you're wondering, we adopted Molly (the dog below). She's amazing. Absolutely amazing. I'll take her picture and post them to our flickr account so all can see her magnificent glory
Have you ever asked yourself this question and followed it through in your mind time and time again until you were exhausted by it and just quit asking it of yourself? Have you ever been so disgusted by your lack of ability to recognize any particular and useful strength that you can share with the world? Have you ever realized what you loved and wanted to do and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was what you were born to do, but been so afraid to do ti that you never did? Have you ever wondered just where to start?
ME TOO!!! See it's not just you.
I have asked myself all of the questions so often. I mean, I really ache over this more than I care to admit. Not because I want some kind of recognition, but I swear I think I have so much more to offer than this person that I am today, but I also feel like I'm holding back for some reason and I don't know from what or why.
Read this: http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/06/19/heroes.agoglia/index.html
I read this story and was just amazed that someone just did it. He says (in summary), I have the resources, the know how and the desire to help, so I do. What the??? He must be crazy right? I mean obviously he's crazy because no one sane would do this....right?
I firmly believe that everyone of us desires to find out what he/she can do for the greater good! They/I want to know how they can help and not just by sending a check...they want to really help! They want to put their talents and skills to use! They want to know that they did more than just read the sensationalized headlines and gasp at the injustices or sadness or destruction or devastation all around us! I know I am part of the "they", and I want to know that there is more to me than this person who recognizes a need, but just doesn't quite do anything about it because it might make me uncomfortable. Oh to be less hesitant.
I think this blog entry kind of sounds like a rant, but the truth is, it's kind of frenzied because it's something I'm frenzied about inside - and IT'S GETTING WORSE with every passing day. I don't have an agenda, a cause to promote, or souls to save. I don't intend to be blasphemous by saying that, but I'm not out selling my religion. I genuinely just want to help people in need without pretenses. However, I do feel obligated to admit, and I do so freely, that my faith has helped me to see beyond myself in a way that I was not able to do before I accepted Christ and his teachings as my way in this life. So I bring honor to God and my faith practice by knowing that without them working in my life I would not be this person and I still would not care like I do now.
I just don't know where/what/when/how...the lack of details that make this impossible to live with.
What next? Who knows.....
But, I do know this: my life is great, but my just enjoying myself is not good enough any more. Thank you Lord for the blessing of being able to enjoy myself. For someone with my past and the constantly changing nature of it, I recognize the blessing of that peace. But, the truth is I want to make a difference in more lives than just my own. I need to make a difference, there are people out there counting on us to make some kind of difference in some way that will positively impact them forever (no seriously, they're out there, they just don't know they're waiting on help from us, and we don't know who they are yet) .
Oh, and in case you're wondering, we adopted Molly (the dog below). She's amazing. Absolutely amazing. I'll take her picture and post them to our flickr account so all can see her magnificent glory
Radiation to Cure your ills
Mason went in yesterday to receive his dose of radioactive iodine so they can test him, or better yet his thyroid gland, today. I went with him yesterday just in case it made him sick. It did not.
Before he took it though, I kept telling him that he was going to turn into the Hulk and ...well, our jokes really went all downhill from there. Sometimes I think we forget we're in our 30s and are just too silly to be in public. It was nice, even though we were at the hospital, to get to spend the time together just the two of us. Those moments are kind of limited these days and it's funny that we still have so much fun together after this many years (Oh my gosh, I have put up with the man for seven years...Five of them as marrieds...he's says he feels like he's been putting up with me for MUCH longer - har har har, very funny).
So, we won't know any results until later this month, but it was interesting to see how weird we reacted to the situation. They told Mason to be really careful about some things as he was emitting extremely low levels of radiation. Very importantly, they told how he was supposed to avoid any close contact with either Clare or myself. Have you tried to be in the same house as your husband and not touch him, give him a kiss, cuddle through a movie, much less tried to keep his 20 month old daughter from trying to crawl all over her daddy, or not be picked up, etc. It was hard. I think the stuff they gave him yesterday has a half life of 2 days so hopefully we'll be ok tomorrow, but the doctors will tell us more today. I found myself wondering if sleeping next to him was going to cause me to get cancer. I got all weird about him touching anything that belonged to or came into contact with Clare. Of course for Mason his reaction was that his "kidneys" started to hurt . Turns out it wasn't his kidneys, but I've chuckled all day about it. Anyway, we were sort of living in this weird moment last night in bizzaro world. Mason was there, but couldn't participate. I ended up sleeping with a pillow in between us and keeping my feet next to his. I imagine it kind of felt lonely not to be touched at all for 24 hours.
Thank goodness this was just the diagnostic piece of it. The truth is, the stuff they give you for treatment is much worse and he won't be able to be around us at all for 11 days or so. Isn't that insane?? I guess it's better than the alternative though if you need it.
So, in this bizzaro world of eating out and playing outside until bedtime, we decided to watch a movie (insert Netflix buzz here as I LOVE the business).
Michael Clayton.
Watch it. It's good. Really good. The last scene is "wow", but maybe that's just the radiation messing with my brain.
Oh, after the movie was over, we saw a June bug crawling across the floor. I told Mason to pick it up and stick it near his neck since that's where all of the radioactive iodine collected in his thyroid. I wanted to see if we could mutate it into some phosphorescent creature that suddenly morphed into a giant prehistoric looking bug that would become out pet.
He wouldn't do it.....Chicken.
However, this morning he found us a dog that we're "interviewing" this afternoon at our house. She'll probably make a better pet anyway.
The Cure
Sunday....It was finally time.
I got to see The Cure live for the first time in my life and was it ever worth the wait. I cannot explain how much I listened to them while I was in high school and my early years of college. I tend to be a tad bit obsessive about listening to music and will almost over do it. It was certainly no different back then, maybe even slightly worse. I listened so much to some albums that I didn't want to listen to them for two or three years straight. Within the last five years, I've slowly reintegrated them back into my collection and have fallen in love with them all over again. So....when the opportunity to see them live became a reality, I naturally jumped at the chance.
It's funny, once we purchased the tickets in January, I did something exactly the opposite of what I ordinarily do. I didn't really revisit the CDs that I had, nor did I play the songs much at all. I didn't obsess over the music. I hummed the tunes that I loved and remembered and waited. I waited in secret anticipation. I quietly marked off the days until I got to see them. I made no special effort to get to know them better or different. To be honest, I didn't want to ruin the sound by over hearing it, but I also wanted to see the show that The Cure would put on and I wanted to take it in and listen without expectations. This was an unintentional present for me as many songs unwrapped something new and old in me at the same time.
For some songs that I had heard, but didn't remember well, it was like hearing them for the first time. For some songs, it was the first time I had heard them at all(new songs rock by the way). For some songs, I sang along to every single word that because they were so deeply embedded into my memory. For others, I sang many of the words, but couldn't remember them all. For all of them, I simply enjoyed the moment I was getting and giggled and smiled through three hours of spectacular musicians doing what they do best - with a little Robert Smith flare.
For those dozen or so songs that I remember so well that I could recall every word, they admittedly made the night for me. They were from different albums and different times in my life, and the memories that they recalled were as vivid as if I were hearing the song years ago while living in that very moment. I think this could best be defined as surreal. I can't explain it, but that's how intimately connected I was at those times to this music.
Music is such an intensely personal medium and it's tied to delicately to our heart without our even being aware. I will not soon forget last night or what I felt.
Of course, I also won't forget Mason turning to me every time Robert Smith spoke and saying with a laugh "I cannot understand a single word he's saying. He's the British Boomhauer". Meanwhile, he was reintroducing himself to a band he had long ago forgotten about and smiling right along side of me. The Cure for a new generation of memories, kicked off by a spectacular and probably once in a lifetime opportunity for me.
It's funny, once we purchased the tickets in January, I did something exactly the opposite of what I ordinarily do. I didn't really revisit the CDs that I had, nor did I play the songs much at all. I didn't obsess over the music. I hummed the tunes that I loved and remembered and waited. I waited in secret anticipation. I quietly marked off the days until I got to see them. I made no special effort to get to know them better or different. To be honest, I didn't want to ruin the sound by over hearing it, but I also wanted to see the show that The Cure would put on and I wanted to take it in and listen without expectations. This was an unintentional present for me as many songs unwrapped something new and old in me at the same time.
For some songs that I had heard, but didn't remember well, it was like hearing them for the first time. For some songs, it was the first time I had heard them at all(new songs rock by the way). For some songs, I sang along to every single word that because they were so deeply embedded into my memory. For others, I sang many of the words, but couldn't remember them all. For all of them, I simply enjoyed the moment I was getting and giggled and smiled through three hours of spectacular musicians doing what they do best - with a little Robert Smith flare.
For those dozen or so songs that I remember so well that I could recall every word, they admittedly made the night for me. They were from different albums and different times in my life, and the memories that they recalled were as vivid as if I were hearing the song years ago while living in that very moment. I think this could best be defined as surreal. I can't explain it, but that's how intimately connected I was at those times to this music.
Music is such an intensely personal medium and it's tied to delicately to our heart without our even being aware. I will not soon forget last night or what I felt.
Of course, I also won't forget Mason turning to me every time Robert Smith spoke and saying with a laugh "I cannot understand a single word he's saying. He's the British Boomhauer". Meanwhile, he was reintroducing himself to a band he had long ago forgotten about and smiling right along side of me. The Cure for a new generation of memories, kicked off by a spectacular and probably once in a lifetime opportunity for me.
Oh, and finally, major major gratitude to Clare, Nick and Mason for driving back at 1:00 c.s.t. for just about three hours through the darkest of night. Here's to nuclear power, and other hot topics that kept them up and talking. I know my limitations and staying awake once it's dark is not one of them. If it had been up to me, well...it wasn't.
The Perfect, Regular Old Morning
Do you ever have those mornings where it seems special ordered? Nothing special days, just regular old days. But...those regular old days that are the perfect regular old days.
Clare woke up early this morning (I mean really early) - check.
I laid in bed until well after time to get up to go running - check.
Finally felt guilty enough to get out of bed - check.
Got up to get the sweet crying baby - check.
Fell in love with her all over again today too, only more deeply - check.
What did I do? I decided to get up to go running anyway and take Clare with me in the jog stroller. What a morning. It was abso-freaking-lutely beautiful this morning. The temperature was perfect and the two girls were off doing what we do best, just hanging out. We left Mason in the bed, grabbed a cup and some cheerios for her to nibble on before breakfast and away we flew.
When I say this morning was beautiful, I mean it was beautiful. There was a low-lying mist, the sun was out, the birds were singing, the temperature was absolutely perfect, rabbits were hopping around, frogs were making their frog noises in the pond behind our neighborhood, and the best part?? Clare and I were just chirping along with the birds, talking our mommy/daughter language that only we understand while she nibbled here and there on cheerios and said "weeeee" periodically. Her little curls just bounced in the draft of the air as we ran forward. I ran past Andy's nursery, where they have the most beautiful garden area next to the creek, and she loved seeing the sunflowers and getting sprayed a little by the sprinkler. I ran through the warm sun into the shade of a nearby neighborhood and she watched the passing yards for birds ("What do the birds say Clare?" Teet Teet through her pacifier) . I felt lighter than normal and was having fun running, which isn't as often as it used to be since I'm in the "alone time" of the morning.
It was far too short of a run this morning. I think I could have kept on going for another mile or two, but it was late and I was certain she was going to want real breakfast sooner or later so we packed it in and headed home. I ran her as fast as I could up the neighborhood hill (she LOVES this) and then we were home. Just for a little added bonus, we let Daddy sleep a little bit longer and we made breakfast together. I cut her bananas and she ate every one of them while the pancakes cooked (Ca-u-kes as she says in her southern drawl), then she ate all of her cakes too. We talked and chirped some more before we tip-toed in to surprise Daddy with a late wake up call.
See, it was the perfect, regular old morning.
Clare woke up early this morning (I mean really early) - check.
I laid in bed until well after time to get up to go running - check.
Finally felt guilty enough to get out of bed - check.
Got up to get the sweet crying baby - check.
Fell in love with her all over again today too, only more deeply - check.
What did I do? I decided to get up to go running anyway and take Clare with me in the jog stroller. What a morning. It was abso-freaking-lutely beautiful this morning. The temperature was perfect and the two girls were off doing what we do best, just hanging out. We left Mason in the bed, grabbed a cup and some cheerios for her to nibble on before breakfast and away we flew.
When I say this morning was beautiful, I mean it was beautiful. There was a low-lying mist, the sun was out, the birds were singing, the temperature was absolutely perfect, rabbits were hopping around, frogs were making their frog noises in the pond behind our neighborhood, and the best part?? Clare and I were just chirping along with the birds, talking our mommy/daughter language that only we understand while she nibbled here and there on cheerios and said "weeeee" periodically. Her little curls just bounced in the draft of the air as we ran forward. I ran past Andy's nursery, where they have the most beautiful garden area next to the creek, and she loved seeing the sunflowers and getting sprayed a little by the sprinkler. I ran through the warm sun into the shade of a nearby neighborhood and she watched the passing yards for birds ("What do the birds say Clare?" Teet Teet through her pacifier) . I felt lighter than normal and was having fun running, which isn't as often as it used to be since I'm in the "alone time" of the morning.
It was far too short of a run this morning. I think I could have kept on going for another mile or two, but it was late and I was certain she was going to want real breakfast sooner or later so we packed it in and headed home. I ran her as fast as I could up the neighborhood hill (she LOVES this) and then we were home. Just for a little added bonus, we let Daddy sleep a little bit longer and we made breakfast together. I cut her bananas and she ate every one of them while the pancakes cooked (Ca-u-kes as she says in her southern drawl), then she ate all of her cakes too. We talked and chirped some more before we tip-toed in to surprise Daddy with a late wake up call.
See, it was the perfect, regular old morning.
Management Exam
I've been taking this IT project management course for what seems like the last 14 years, but in reality has been a month and ten days. I finished the last chapter today and have actually learned A LOT. It was the kind of class that was insanely useful with stuff that you think you already know, but don't. I sit in awe at how unprepared I was for this promotion without even being aware of it, but how much more prepared I am now. I am glad to have been forced into this class. Kudos for my manager!
The instructor's name....
this is so awesome....
Roy Rogers
Can you dig it? (oh yeah, I used it)
So this guy is wildly upbeat and encouraging through the whole class. So much so that I anxiously wait for my assignment responses so that I read how great he thinks my work is. "Whoa" is often a beginning response.
It's so corny, but I feed off of approval. I admit it freely.
Honestly, I secretly think "he's" a girl who uses this "Roy Rogers" as a pen name. "He's" just much too encouraging. I don't find men to be that encouraging and I have a lot of them around me to prove the point. They try, don't get me wrong. However, there is just something about the enthusiam of encouragement that comes from a woman that seems more genuine. So, I imagine Roy to really be Sarah or Mary and that's ok too. Maybe not. Maybe his parents just really named him Roy Rogers and he's just a more enlightened male. Who knows?
Whatever the story behind the instructor, it's been a great course and I'm glad to have it under my belt. I think it'll actually help me and I'm seriously nervous about the exam.
The whole process has made me want to go back to school though. However, I tried to go back as an adult in the working environment and found it less than appealing to go at night after a full day of work. That was a drag.
I can't help but admit that I would probably be a nurse or something along those lines if I had it to do all over again. Hind sight....
The instructor's name....
this is so awesome....
Roy Rogers
Can you dig it? (oh yeah, I used it)
So this guy is wildly upbeat and encouraging through the whole class. So much so that I anxiously wait for my assignment responses so that I read how great he thinks my work is. "Whoa" is often a beginning response.
It's so corny, but I feed off of approval. I admit it freely.
Honestly, I secretly think "he's" a girl who uses this "Roy Rogers" as a pen name. "He's" just much too encouraging. I don't find men to be that encouraging and I have a lot of them around me to prove the point. They try, don't get me wrong. However, there is just something about the enthusiam of encouragement that comes from a woman that seems more genuine. So, I imagine Roy to really be Sarah or Mary and that's ok too. Maybe not. Maybe his parents just really named him Roy Rogers and he's just a more enlightened male. Who knows?
Whatever the story behind the instructor, it's been a great course and I'm glad to have it under my belt. I think it'll actually help me and I'm seriously nervous about the exam.
The whole process has made me want to go back to school though. However, I tried to go back as an adult in the working environment and found it less than appealing to go at night after a full day of work. That was a drag.
I can't help but admit that I would probably be a nurse or something along those lines if I had it to do all over again. Hind sight....
Today's run was so much easier than either of the past two days. I actually got out of bed on my own, got ready, ate my bite of banana and drank my swig of water and headed out the door. The air was thick this morning and I think I was covered in a thin layer of sweat before I even moved my legs.
I took a slightly different route this morning that meant a few more gradual inclines. I feel my legs getting stronger and it's most noticeable when I'm faced with a "hill" or any type of incline. I've skipped the tunes for the last two mornings and have just enjoyed the sounds of nature coupled with my stomping shoe and heavy breathing. Occassionally I'll run by something in a bush or in the grass that's eerie and it makes me run a little more quickly. Is it too early for snakes to be out? There was a creeeeepy guy sitting in a city truck in the park this morning. Just to assert my physical dominance, I gave him the stern stink eye and ran a little more firmly with intention. Then I wondered if it would have be nicer to smile at him since he was probably just a nice guy taking a morning break (maybe even a nap) in the beauty of a park and here I was assuming he was a perv. The world we live in hasn't made it easy to be a girl alone in a park in the early morning. So, I chose my stink eye and mentally prepared myself for some major ass-kicking if the need arose. I was going to go all crazy style of fight if I had to, and screaming would have been allowed. My imaginary struggle kept me occupado for aleast half a mile and I mentally won the challenge. Score one for the girl in the red running shorts! At least I wasn't wearing my pink ones. I guess those might have made me look like a wuss - ha!
I'm taking my shoes and clothes with me this weekend to the wedding. I know we'll be up a little later than normal tonight with the rehearsal dinner festivities, but am anxious to get the opportunity to run somewhere else for a change. I might even mix it up and run Sunday too and take Monday off instead. I suppose it'll just depend on how runner friendly either area is. I just love it y'all. Just love it. I supposed I really do get the runner's high (only it doesn't hit me until it's over).
So, my hair is perfect, I have a fabulous dress for both nights, the ability to eat the good food and not feel guilty (Oh thank you God for the run this morning!), and a babysitter for tonight and we're meeting up with friends that I rarely get to see and love so much. The weekend has amazing potential. Now all I have to do is sit back and enjoy myself as all of the hard work has been completed and the weekend celebrating can begin. If any good pictures come out of it, they're getting posted!
Here's hoping to a great weekend for everyone!
I took a slightly different route this morning that meant a few more gradual inclines. I feel my legs getting stronger and it's most noticeable when I'm faced with a "hill" or any type of incline. I've skipped the tunes for the last two mornings and have just enjoyed the sounds of nature coupled with my stomping shoe and heavy breathing. Occassionally I'll run by something in a bush or in the grass that's eerie and it makes me run a little more quickly. Is it too early for snakes to be out? There was a creeeeepy guy sitting in a city truck in the park this morning. Just to assert my physical dominance, I gave him the stern stink eye and ran a little more firmly with intention. Then I wondered if it would have be nicer to smile at him since he was probably just a nice guy taking a morning break (maybe even a nap) in the beauty of a park and here I was assuming he was a perv. The world we live in hasn't made it easy to be a girl alone in a park in the early morning. So, I chose my stink eye and mentally prepared myself for some major ass-kicking if the need arose. I was going to go all crazy style of fight if I had to, and screaming would have been allowed. My imaginary struggle kept me occupado for aleast half a mile and I mentally won the challenge. Score one for the girl in the red running shorts! At least I wasn't wearing my pink ones. I guess those might have made me look like a wuss - ha!
I'm taking my shoes and clothes with me this weekend to the wedding. I know we'll be up a little later than normal tonight with the rehearsal dinner festivities, but am anxious to get the opportunity to run somewhere else for a change. I might even mix it up and run Sunday too and take Monday off instead. I suppose it'll just depend on how runner friendly either area is. I just love it y'all. Just love it. I supposed I really do get the runner's high (only it doesn't hit me until it's over).
So, my hair is perfect, I have a fabulous dress for both nights, the ability to eat the good food and not feel guilty (Oh thank you God for the run this morning!), and a babysitter for tonight and we're meeting up with friends that I rarely get to see and love so much. The weekend has amazing potential. Now all I have to do is sit back and enjoy myself as all of the hard work has been completed and the weekend celebrating can begin. If any good pictures come out of it, they're getting posted!
Here's hoping to a great weekend for everyone!
Easy like a Wednesday Morning
I've gotten super lazy with my running. Now that I run in the morning due to the afternoon heat, my motivation has reached pretty low levels. I LOVE to sleep. I'm one of those people who looks forward to going to sleep each night. It appears that I've passed this gene on to my daughter. I have great, vivid dreams and it just feels so darn good. Writing about it makes me miss my sheets and pillow right now! Anyway, because of this love of sleep, running has become my enemy. I talk about it like I like it, but in the back of my mind I'm resentful of losing that extra 45 minutes to an hour in the bed. Of course, this has made my running more sporadic, making it much more challenging and even less fun because it's harder and I'm resentful. Whew, doesn't sound like much fun to me and it's not a cycle I want to fall into. After two weeks of waning running, I decided to step back in the program a few weeks to an easier time (2.5 miles for 4 to 6 days a week) so that I can get back into the swing of things without the daily dread of 4 or 5 miles glaring at me.
Last night, I asked Mason to nudge me out of the bed in the morning. He knows he's taking his life into his hands with this request, but I assured him that I would only growl at him and not bite. He, lovingly nudged me out this morning (God bless his brave soul), I didn't growl at him, and ten minutes later I was slowly out the door.
It is so beautiful outside in the mornings. There is still a crispness in the air that makes me think about going on vacation for some reason. I think because we always used to leave early to go anywhere. The sun is just coming up, but the sky is bright enough to see blue. The birds are awake and chirping back and forth. The best part, there isn't a soul moving around me. It's like all of this is some super secret time on earth where only I get to spend. Not a bad start for a lazy runner. I started up my workout and hit the road with a quarter of the enthusiasm that I feel for running right now, but enough to get me going.
I have a new toy to run with after last week, the iPod + Nike attachment that allows me to run without paying attention to where. It keeps up with my mileage and time and average pace, etc. Have to give credit again to Mason, he surprised me with it. You have to smile for supportive and loving spouses. He my not like to run, but he's so excited for me that I like it.
But I diverge...
I wanted to quit through mile one. I still wanted to quit half way through my workout, but Danny's words (see other blogs on my site) about the body being a temple and how running is his mission for God started repeating in my mind. I lifted my posture, spread a silly grin on my face and kept on going. The grin helps....A LOT. Into Mile 2, people started coming out and joining me in my love of the morning, so, I smiled and waved. Then i started smiling and waving and then speaking as I passed. I actually began to have fun again and realized that it's much more fun to run with a happy disposition. In fact, it's not fun at all to run with dread, but man is it fun to run happy. I think I was initially using the running to make me happy and now I'm trying to be happy and run, too! I ran into two friends of mine who are just starting the Couch to 10K program and I met them with a smile (a sweaty and heavily breathing smile, but a smile). I hope that encourages them and I can't wait until we can all run together. Oh my gosh...before I knew it, the run was over and I felt great.
God is truly great. He gives us all of this ability to do things and then strengthens us when we want to quit. So, I started my day off with a bang and I hope that I continue to do it every day. It's not for weight loss, or for a race, or anything else. I want to do it because I enjoy it. I just needed to be reminded why I love it so much (and a good kick out of bed from a loving and brave husband)
Last night, I asked Mason to nudge me out of the bed in the morning. He knows he's taking his life into his hands with this request, but I assured him that I would only growl at him and not bite. He, lovingly nudged me out this morning (God bless his brave soul), I didn't growl at him, and ten minutes later I was slowly out the door.
It is so beautiful outside in the mornings. There is still a crispness in the air that makes me think about going on vacation for some reason. I think because we always used to leave early to go anywhere. The sun is just coming up, but the sky is bright enough to see blue. The birds are awake and chirping back and forth. The best part, there isn't a soul moving around me. It's like all of this is some super secret time on earth where only I get to spend. Not a bad start for a lazy runner. I started up my workout and hit the road with a quarter of the enthusiasm that I feel for running right now, but enough to get me going.
I have a new toy to run with after last week, the iPod + Nike attachment that allows me to run without paying attention to where. It keeps up with my mileage and time and average pace, etc. Have to give credit again to Mason, he surprised me with it. You have to smile for supportive and loving spouses. He my not like to run, but he's so excited for me that I like it.
But I diverge...
I wanted to quit through mile one. I still wanted to quit half way through my workout, but Danny's words (see other blogs on my site) about the body being a temple and how running is his mission for God started repeating in my mind. I lifted my posture, spread a silly grin on my face and kept on going. The grin helps....A LOT. Into Mile 2, people started coming out and joining me in my love of the morning, so, I smiled and waved. Then i started smiling and waving and then speaking as I passed. I actually began to have fun again and realized that it's much more fun to run with a happy disposition. In fact, it's not fun at all to run with dread, but man is it fun to run happy. I think I was initially using the running to make me happy and now I'm trying to be happy and run, too! I ran into two friends of mine who are just starting the Couch to 10K program and I met them with a smile (a sweaty and heavily breathing smile, but a smile). I hope that encourages them and I can't wait until we can all run together. Oh my gosh...before I knew it, the run was over and I felt great.
God is truly great. He gives us all of this ability to do things and then strengthens us when we want to quit. So, I started my day off with a bang and I hope that I continue to do it every day. It's not for weight loss, or for a race, or anything else. I want to do it because I enjoy it. I just needed to be reminded why I love it so much (and a good kick out of bed from a loving and brave husband)
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