Spring...in pictures

Since a picture is worth a thousand words and I am too lazy to write even close to that many, this is what this lazy blogger has been up to lately.

Ice skating. This smile is post falling-down-then-throwing-her-hat-on-the-ice, yelling "I QUIT!" x3. Good times.


Alice (with my dad) watched while working on perfecting the exact shade of tomato-red in her cheeks that makes it hard for me to believe that she doesn't have a fever. 98.6 every time.


Soccer! Go Wolverines. We consider soccer a success when (1)there are no tears from #12 (2)there is at least one dog at practice for Alice to squeal about.


Soccer happy dance.


I spend a lot of time making messes in the basement.


Hours on the trainer seems to have pissed off my wrist. A bone spur (aka carpal boss) is the reason for my newest fashion statement.

First outdoor ride of the season on the books for tomorrow. Woo hoo!

Picnic time.



I think that was at least 1543 words.

Doubt

The nasty little bugger crawled in my ear this weekend.

That was a bad race you had there, lady. (Yes, I call myself lady.) You sure you're ready to hurt for 70.3 miles? That was just 13.1 and you didn't handle it all that well, ya know?

Maybe you should just stick to the short stuff? You know, 5k's and 10k's and sprints and Oly's. Leave the longer stuff to the people that are good at it. Not you.

It's like an infection.

It is spreading now. Making my legs tired and my mind weak.

The only cure I know is more racing. And good racing. Smart racing. Fast racing.

I plan on starting myself slowly on a therapy of "following training peaks to a tee" and "not wussing out during any of my key runs and bikes".

That should kick it. No doubt.

ING Half Marathon Race Report

This is my third time racing the ING half course.

2007 was just a training run for Ironman. I didn't race it, ran with Mike's family, had fun, enjoyed it. 1:47

2009 it was an "A" race for me. My first big post Alice race back. I struggled. Just not my day. 1:41

2010...third time was NOT the charm. I was hoping for under 1:40 and was going to do my best to hang on to 7:20's for a 1:36.

I was a little off. 1:51

Wowza.

All was good until Mile 9. I was pushing up the hills and recovering on the downhills, per Jen's instructions on "how to run even splits on a hilly course." It was not feeling easy or effortless, but I was hanging in there. Each hill push was accompanied by the all too familiar "I am going to puke" feeling that I get at the end of 5 and 10k's. When I cannot go any harder. And I am sprinting. All out.

I was not going that hard.

I was not sprinting.

Yet, I was puking.

Exited Piedmont Park and hurled all over the sidewalk. And again. And again.

Yes, I was that person on Sunday.

My mile splits were no longer even. Mile 9? A blistering 11:33. Zoom.

And now my shoes had vanilla powergel puke on them. Which, sadly, does provide any additional energy to your feet.

The 4.1 miles to the finish was a long, slow, spectacular KA-BOOM! I was hoping to rally and feel better after the show I put on at mile 9.

Nope.

Not today. Not this year. Not on this course.

EffING ING.

Next year you're mine.

(The appearance of a fever yesterday and the reappearance of my breakfast this morning could not have been more welcome. Yay for a stomach virus. Yay for puking. Anything that could reasonably explain the disaster that was my race was much welcomed.)

Icrazy

My ever present to do list is way too long for my lazy self this week.

I am such a list nerd, I make one daily and one for the week and then happily (geekily?) check stuff off as it gets done. (Admission...sometimes, I even add something to the list that is already done and not on there, just to add it, then check it off. Ah...the satisfaction, then the shame. I mean, who does that?!?)

Does my nerdiness know no bounds?

My penchant for uber organization took a hard hit last week.

My iphone apparently had enough of ifart, syrupy kid fingers, getting dropped 348 times, and playing the soundtrack to "Annie" over and over. It committed isuicide. In a puddle. Just jumped out of my pocket. Ended it all.

I thought I would be fine with a regular phone. I tried.

A no frills Samsung just wouldn't cut it. I couldn't even bring myself to charge the the thing. It would be like claiming ownership. Which I clearly was not ready to do.."YOU ARE NOT MY PHONE. YOU SUCK SO BAD, I BET YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO TEXT." I hissed at the poor little guy.

Less than 24 hours later, I was still lost. I couldn't call anyone to help. (My iphone did all the phone number remembering for me). I didn't know what to do. (That is ical's job to tell me my schedule.) I couldn't even play The Smiths to help deepen my depression. (My iphone IS my ipod. Waah.)

I'd had enough. Apple Store here I come. Watch out you mac geeks....someone had better have my isanity ready for me, momma needs her fix of apps, visual voicemail, internet, email at my fingertips. STAT.

Seriously, until it was gone...I had no idea how much I relied on that thing.

Embarrassingly sad, I'll admit.

Some pics of the girls and spring, neither sad nor embarrassing. (And taken with my super useful new iphone!)



"I picked these flowers (weeds) for my dad."


Babe Ruth?

Zone 0

*Zones one through five all hurt.

(*Heart rate zones, for those of you who are not triathlon nerds. This means you, mom.)

On some level, they are all uncomfortable. (Okay, maybe not Z1, but honestly, when does a Z1 run ever appear in training peaks?)

Jen's article got me thinking.

Thinking about a few things...

Like, I definitely have the right coach for me. Amazing, considering the little to no research I did before contacting Jen last March for coaching. I liked her blog. That was reason enough for me at the time. I wish all my impulse based decisions worked out that well. Eating half a bowl of brownie batter last weekend, another example of my snap second decision making abilities.

You can't win 'em all.

But, anyway, I was talking about HR Zones, how they hurt and stuff.

Jen's article got me thinking about downtime. How we relax. Decompress. Zone out.

Zone 0

My Z0 consists of lots of things...things I love, things that allow my head and body to rest. An exhausting hobby + motherhood demands some downtime. Therefore, most Z0 activities take place with the computer on my blanket covered lap, butt firmly planted on the couch.

Facebook...I love my FB. Love it. I am so not a phone person, but like to keep in touch, so this works much better for me.

Blog reading.

Blog writing (although, I do feel a bit devoid of inspiration lately. Kind of explains the meager posting as of late.)

Athleta/Title Nine/Lululemon online drooling/shopping.

Design magazine buying/tearing out pages of what I like. Funny, never really interested me before we bought the new house. Now I am borderline obsessed. The "Cottage Styles" and "Traditional Homes" might now outnumber the "US Weeklies" and "Triahtlons". Weird.

Reading -- this is strictly a before bed Z0 activity. Reading makes me sleep. Could use some suggestions as I am re-reading "Midwives" by Chris Bohjalian for the 3rd time right now, just because it was there.

Baking -- cookies, brownies, cakes, muffins, etc. Love it all. Mike really hampers me here since all he ever wants is chocolate chip cookies. Even for his birthday. No cake, just cookies. Weird.

Ahh....Zone 0. I am feeling more relaxed already.

Some pics of the girls.

E and her latest "As Seen on TV" acquisition. The Egg Cracker. (I had no idea that cracking eggs was such a difficult task in the first place...)


And Alice who is severely offended by the chocolate drool on her foot. That came from her mouth.