Bonk!

"In endurance sports, particularly cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes a condition caused by the depletion of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles, which manifests itself by precipitous fatigue and loss of energy."

Thanks, Wiki.

My own personal definition of this includes lying on the floor of my bathroom after my long run, thinking how hard it is to talk. Yes, talking was too hard to do yesterday. Ella was in the shower asking me questions and I was thinking to myself, "Doesn't she know I just ran 12 miles?!?! How am I supposed to talk after 12 whole miles?!?". Talking is so draining. So is throwing up, which is something that I would do. If I had the energy to get up.

I couldn't figure out how I was going to get through the rest of the day on the bathroom floor. I was hoping Mike would find me and carry me to the bed. I was that sick. (This is what my glycogen starved brain was thinking.) That I was sick. Not that I needed food. Not that I didn't eat enough on my run. That I could easily feel better with a little peanut butter or an energy bar. I was banking on the good old bathroom floor cure.

It didn't work.

But, get this? I was magically cured, had all my energy back, ceased to want to puke, forgot how hard talking was after I ate some stinking calories.

Please reference the title of my previous post.

Jill and I on the run. (Runs with friends, we ran with 4 yesterday, make me forget all sense and reason. Apparently.)

I never said I was smart.

Not now.

And definitely not as a kid.

My burning desire as a child? My ambition? My consistent answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up, Katie?"

Not doctor, not lawyer, not president.

Nope.

Tooth Fairy.

I thought it sounded like an awesome job. Fly around. Collect teeth. Leave money for kids.
Sign me up.

When my mom finally set me straight (waay later than normal) regarding my future career and um, the fact that shhh....she's not real. I lost my sh%$. For days, I am told. Tears and more tears and "why did you tell me's???".

See? Not too smart.

Anyway, zip forward 30some years and guess freaking what?

I AM THE TOOTH FAIRY NOW.

Take that um, mom...er, maybe not, you were just trying to enlighten a little weirdo that believed in flying fairies.

Take that....reality?

Ella's lost 5 teeth already and I'm sort of a pro now.

After her last tooth came out the other night, my sister texted me to point out "see? your childhood dream came true."

I am so pathetic. ;)

E's letter to the tooth fairy....


Regarding my half marathon training. (I am doing Disney Princess Half at the end of Feb.) It is going great. I am really loving running 5-6 days a week...shocking the hell out of me.

Elemental

The elements.

What wonderful treats they bring the outdoor runner, biker, walker, etc. this time of year.

Frozen toes, fingers, snot.....to name a few.

I know, I know, Atlanta is in the deep South. We're supposed to be warm, and welcoming.

Tell that to my neck gater. Poor thing's exhausted from all the use she's gotten this year. Once upon a time, I'd break her out like the good wine, once in a blue moon.

Now, it is every stinking run.

I am not complaining though...I like the elements.

I like the heat. I like the freezing cold. I like running in the rain. In the snow....

Why? 'Cause it makes me feel tough. And I am not tough.

At heart, at my core? A wuss, A scardey cat wuss who'd prefer sunny and seventy, thankyouverymuch.

The elements make me feel like the badass I am not.

I take my badass where I can get it...even if it means 8 miles in freezing rain.

"Is "poopy" an adjective?"

...and other google queries.

These are the questions you find yourself asking when playing madlibs with a 5 year old.

I appreciate the lack of judgement, google.

Two things. (1) It was not her suggestion for the adjective. (It was mine. I was going for the easy laugh.)
(2) We had to google it because Mike didn't think it was an adjective. (Wrong!)

We search for a lot of random things on the internets.

Were their children on the Mayflower? (E wanted to know. And yes, there were.)

What is the difference between the KSwiss Kona and the KSwiss Kona-C? (All me there. There's none, just looks, according to someone on a random forum. Momma needs new running shoes and zappos was all out of my faves, the Konas.)

How many calories in a clementine? (Mike. He's apparently counting calories.)

What the hell this says about us, I have no idea, perhaps we are weight conscious, fecal oriented, history buffs who enjoy a run now and then?

Okay, sure.

Tis the season

It is not my fault if this post makes zero sense and is full of typos.

I am currently under two year old attack. She's trying to lure me into a wrestling match by hitting me with a blanket and head butting me. Okay, she's stopped the attack to show me the "boogie" on her hand, and ugh, now she wiped it on my shirt. Yes, MY shirt, not her shirt.

Anyone want a hug?

If you don't get covered in snot, then can offer you one of the many germs that my children carry?

I am sure my shirt has them in spades. (Being covered in boogers and all.)

Yes, tis the season for being sick. The girls, yes, of course. There has to be a patient Zero. But, I still catch everyfreakingthing that they bring home from school. Sinus infection, stomach flu, fifths disease...check. Check. And check. (And not just me this year, my filthy animals have successfully infected my mom, brother in law, each other, and the contractor working for my mom so far.) Do not talk to us until April. I promise it is a bad idea.

Cobbling together any consistency in my running has been um, challenging so far this winter. (It's not even technically winter yet, is it?)

Oof.

Life Lessons

#68 -- Teaching yourself to read.

No big deal. Just find a quiet, sunny place and an Elmo book. All set.

#154 -- The Armpit Fart.

What else are daddies for?

The Voice

I've been hearing a few lately.

The one in my head. More about that later....

And the one coming from the two year old.

It sounds like a combination of a Charlie Brown Adult and a petulant teenager imitating their parents behind their backs. Mike tells me that Alice is imitating me. That my voice sounds like that. (It doesn't.) Mike thinks he funny. (He is.) But, not nearly as funny as Alice is when she does "the voice".

So, Alice is funny and bad (in the best way possible, of course.) She was just reprimanded for spitting on the floor, twice and enjoys gargling and fake burping as loud as she possibly can, in public. My apologies to my fellow Target shoppers.

While Alice is busy being a clown, Ella is rocking kindergarten. Rocking it!

After an adjustment period, filled with lots of tears and only one full-on-the-floor-in-school-tantrum (the horror of that is seared in my brain forever. Her teachers had to literally pull her arms from my legs. Good times.) After a few short months, she is loving school. Loves her friends, loves music class, loves the bus, her teachers, the routine. I am so proud of her. It is like school matured her, in the best possible way, and she's just taking off there. Go Ella.

As far as the voices that I am hearing, or more specifically, the voices I am not hearing anymore.

You know, the voice that tells me that doing Gulf Coast is a great idea. That triathlon is really important. The my workouts are waaay up there on the priority list for the day, week, month, year. That 5am workouts are what needs to be done. The one that repeats swimbikerun, swimbikerun, swimbikerun.

Well, I haven't heard them in a while.

I didn't know why. I missed those voices, then I didn't, then I wondered why I didn't miss them. Then, I just tried to chill. (I am not so good at that.)

Then I started to hear new ones.

Ones that said, "You can't force it". That "maybe the desire will come back, maybe not." One said "take tennis lessons. You love tennis." So I did. Another one said "do the Disney Princess Half Marathon" (That one was definitely Ella's.) So, I signed up. One that said "want to do a 50 miler with me?" (Okay, that wasn't in my head, it was from my friend, Michelle). I said hells no, but hmm...maybe a 50k. THAT actually sounds like fun.

I have to say, it's been pretty nice.

Our Christmas card pic taken by awesome photographer, Andrea Mages....thanks, Andrea!

Historic Roswell 5k Race Report

So, yeah, been off blogging for almost another month...but a silly, little 5k race report's got me back on the ball. Yay for 5k's!

I love this race. Did it back in 2008. It was my first race post Alice. I think I ran around 22:30 or so, I can't really remember. What I do remember from that race was getting the "pukes" (not actually puking, but feeling like it was coming at any second. Yeah, I made that up.) around mile 1.5, and having to breastfeed A in the middle of a football field during the awards ceremony. I really class a race up. ;)

No pukes this race. (Always makes me think I didn't go hard enough!) Just a fun day with no real expectations. (Okay, I was not going to be happy if I went over 20 minutes.) I didn't think under 20 was possible today. I've been running, a lot, just not really focused running. Just 5 miles here, 8 miles there. Some speedwork, some trails, kind of whatever feels good on the day. (

(This low pressure schedule is working for me now, but I can tell I am getting antsy. Antsy for a goal. FIN-A-FREAKING-LY! I will keep pretending I am a normal person for a while, but I think once the holidays are over I am going to want to get back at it. Woo hoo. I think just running for now though...)

Anyway...the 5k. I ran, I hurt, the scenery was pretty, the course was a course I have run since I was 19 (needless to say, I knew where the hills were), great friends were there to cheer (thanks Bonnie, Meghan, Noah, Madeline and Patrick!), I finished 3rd overall female. And guess where I finished age group? 3rd. Boo hiss for stacked 30-34 year old AG. :) 20:50, eh, not bad, not great.

I guess I actually finished 2nd AG, since 1st went first overall, but I scooted out of there and ran up to watch the parade that follows the race with friends.

Fun day. Fun race. Love the low pressure stuff. For now....:)

Muscle Memory

Sometimes I wish my muscles would just forget.

Forget how fast the last race, interval, mile, long run, was.
Forget that I used to do a heck of a lot more training.
Forget the word "just" in front of "half marathon training".

'Cause remembering just makes it all really no fun.

Makes me want to not race. (I can't beat my old times. I don't know if I can (more like want to) hurt for that long anymore.)

Makes me wonder if the fire will ever come back. (Where the heck did it go?)

Did pushing, all the time, striving for some goal, some time, some AG finish push the point of all this so far away that I can't see it anymore?

(Point being. THIS IS FUN.)

I love to run (and bikeandswim).

It makes me feel good. Nope, it makes me feel GREAT. Alive. Happy. Relaxed. Makes me feel like me. Like my best me.

A solo, early fall, morning run while both girls were in school had me remembering today.

A good muscle memory. Time to make some more...

Don't mess with Ella

An admittedly weak update after a long break. Here's the gist.

Kindergarten started. My heart broke. I missed E. She missed me. And cried in the bathroom about it, daily, for a few weeks (her, not me. I didn't attempt to hide my tears). Settling in now...everyone. She likes school, which is great.

Alice is breathing well again after an ER trip last night. Damn croup. She's all 'roided up like a guido from Jersey Shore and breathing much easier now. Longest 8 miles to that hospital, ever.

That's all I've got after 4 hours of sleep. On the floor of A's room. Oof.