- After my disasterous half marathon, I took it easy and then did my annual Stansbury Days Tri the next weekend. I wasn't expecting any great times, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that I was only 15 seconds slower this year than I was last year, mainly because I have finally mastered my transitions and not necessarily because I was any faster in one discipline over another. The swim was longer, so that ate up the time I would have gained from last year. The biggest shock was when I dropped from 8th place overall (last year) to 23rd. The competition has definitely stepped up and I'm looking to step up for next year.
- My ankle reared it's ugly head during the run portion of the race and I made the difficult decision to pull out of the duathlon I had scheduled for September. I'm bummed, but I definitely don't want this injury to blossom into something worse. So, I guess, aside from a 5k here and there, I'm done racing for the season. It's a bittersweet moment because I didn't do as well on any of my big races like I had hoped. Luckily, they'll defer my registration to next year so I have something to look forward to.
- J. started 1st grade last Tuesday. He only went half a day for the first week, but today was his first full day. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been counting down the days until school started. He has become increasingly more of a homebody and it's been difficult to get him to willingly accompany me to the grocery store or the gym without a full out tantrum. So far (fingers crossed) he hasn't been taking fits about getting up in the morning and getting to the bus, though I'm fully expecting that to change soon. I think he's enjoying 1st grade even though according to him they just sit there and do nothing all day.
- A. was lost the first day J. went to school, but I think she's enjoying the one on one attention with mom and having the house to herself. It's definitely been a lot less noisy and chaotic. She's always been easy to cart with me on errands and doesn't request a treat and/or toy at every stop. For the most part, she's really pleasant and is talking up a storm. She's also (fingers crossed again) potty training. We had a rough start, but today, she actually went into the bathroom and did her deed all by herself. I know it's a battle of wills and she will be a lot harder to train than J, but I consider today a win.
- I've been writing a new book. Hopefully this one is a little better than the book I churned out last November. Now that I have a little more free time, I've been spending it doing that.
- We're (read: I. Wade would be more than happy to rip out all flower beds and plant grass) looking at changing our front flower bed. It's been quite the process removing all the flowers and trying to decide what to do. Plus the heat hasn't helped at all. I've split the yard into six sections and every day I go out and weed a section. The only problem is that the weeds seem to be sprouting at an exponential rate and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. It's about this time in the year where I'm looking forward to winter and not having to do any yard work.
- I won another speech contest last week. This time is was a Tall Tales. I told a story about a monster in the Stansbury Lake that I saw while we were doing our triathlon. I move on to the next level--Area--at the end of September.
- We went camping this last weekend up at Mirror Lake with some friends. It was a lot of fun, despite the rain and the Dutch Oven potatoes that refused to cook. I'm always happy when I'm up camping, but I hate getting everything together and then putting it all away. It seems easier just to go to a hotel.
- We rented a canoe for our camping trip. Wade found someone online and we laughed when we pulled up to a house and out walked a 12 year old, owner of said canoe rental company. Apparently, he's renting out the family canoes to make some cash. That's a pretty ingenius idea. It's $12 a day and comes with the paddles and the life jackets. He has two canoes and both were gone this weekend. That's $50 for the weekend and all he had to do was help lift a canoe on top of the car. The neighbor kid has to mow 5-7 lawns to bring in that kind of cash.
- My productivity level has gone out of the roof. I'm doing all sorts of things and so much of it that Wade has quit being surprised by it all. I realize now that I need to dial it down some. I don't want him to think that I could, in fact, live without him. Not that I would want to. Just that I could.
- Check out my brother's website, http://woobossbuckles.blogspot.com/ I'm going to put up a link on my sidebar. He makes belt buckles. It's kind of a weird thing if you're not in Payson or know anyone who wears belt buckles, but he's been a belt buckle collector for a lot of years now, and now he's making them. I'm surprised by the number of people who have bought one. They make kind of a unique gift for that person you don't know what to get for Christmas or a birthday. He also sells stands so you don't actually have to wear the belt buckle to show it off.
- It's my parents' 40th wedding anniversary next week. 40 years seems like an eternity. But a big shout out to them. We're all getting together this weekend to celebrate and I'm sure I'll have some stories to share.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Housekeeping
I've been chastised by a few people over the course of the last few weeks for my lack of posts. I'm going to get you all caught up here and then I promise to be more on the ball. Thank you for caring so much as to call, email, and corner me at wedding receptions to remind me that you care. :)
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Test Anxiety
I have terrible Text Anxiety. I always have. In school, I would freeze up on EVERY test.
Hence why it took four tries of the GRE and a special pass from the dean to graduate college.
Apparently, my test anxiety has spilled over into my running. And Friday night was another prime example.
The last FIVE (yes, 5!) long runs I've done in prep for this race, I've averaged the EXACT SAME pace. About 20 seconds slower than my goal pace. Not too shabby. Especially because other than a run in which I bonked, I was keeping a conversation and having a jolly time.
I thought for sure I would nail this last half marathon. The last half marathon on the docket until at least a year from now. If not longer. Number eight for the last two years.
It should be noted that I have been chasing a sub-2 hour half marathon for 6 of those 8 races. The closest I have gotten is 2:06. And it was a hard fought 2:06. But Friday, Friday was going to be my day. I was finally (yes, after about a year) below what I weighed for the marathon last October. I felt great. I didn't put in the heavy training that I usually do for these events, but judging by my long run times, I felt that I could easily do it.
Then Wade left for the week to go backpacking with the scouts. And I had to find a babysitter, and though I had my brother secured a while back, some plans got changed and I had to scramble this week to find one closer to home. Lo and behold it was Youth Conference and so all my usual babysitters were gone--which was just as well, because I tend to stress out a lot if I'm gone somewhere where the babysitter can't get a hold of me easily--and I ended up having to ask my parents, again. Which stressed me out because I had to clean the house so they could spend the night. Which is a little different than cleaning the house so the 15 year old neighbor can babysit. Of course, I waited until Friday to do so, and by the time N. and I left for the race at 6 pm, I was halfway cooked.
But I still felt okay. I was hydrated and ready to roll.
There's so many details that you all don't care about, but at mile 2.5, I was done. Not just tired and plodding along. Done. I told N. to go ahead and I would catch up.
Ha.
By mile 7 I had convinced myself that I was going to pull out of the race. I have never not finished a race. Ever. But Friday night, I had conceded that even the good runners pull out.
Of course they pull out a race because they aren't going to win. Not because they fear they will be the last one across the line. But, you know, whatever.
I looked around as I came to terms with my decision and realized that (a) there was no one around me and (b) the finish line (from which we had been bussed to the starting line) was 6 (6.10 miles, if you want to get technical) away. I toyed around the idea of flagging down a car (because, yes, we were running beside a major road. In the dark. Because, we're smart like that, that's why.) but then I thought what if they were a serial killer and they kidnapped me. No one would even know until N. informed the race officials that I had never shown up at the finish line. By then I would be long gone.
So I kept going.
The next water station was a mile away and I figured I would just tell one of them I was done. Happy with my decision I started jogging. I came through the water station and kept plodding along before realizing that was my last chance to bail. I guess I had changed my mind.
Ugh. The remaining five miles were a mix of self-loathing, self-pity, and pain. I've been fighting an ankle thing all summer and the hills (of which we were assured the course was mainly downhill. Apparently, the race director's idea of downhill is vastly different than my idea of downhill. My version doesn't include running up hills to run down hills) aggravated whatever's going on with my foot. I have never hated running as much as I did between miles two and 12. At mile 12, I started walking with a girl who felt the same way I did. We ran the last half mile and then I went to find N.
N., while she didn't enjoy the run at all, ran it awesome. It's the story of my life. I need a sports psychologist.
And maybe a new hobby.
Hence why it took four tries of the GRE and a special pass from the dean to graduate college.
Apparently, my test anxiety has spilled over into my running. And Friday night was another prime example.
The last FIVE (yes, 5!) long runs I've done in prep for this race, I've averaged the EXACT SAME pace. About 20 seconds slower than my goal pace. Not too shabby. Especially because other than a run in which I bonked, I was keeping a conversation and having a jolly time.
I thought for sure I would nail this last half marathon. The last half marathon on the docket until at least a year from now. If not longer. Number eight for the last two years.
It should be noted that I have been chasing a sub-2 hour half marathon for 6 of those 8 races. The closest I have gotten is 2:06. And it was a hard fought 2:06. But Friday, Friday was going to be my day. I was finally (yes, after about a year) below what I weighed for the marathon last October. I felt great. I didn't put in the heavy training that I usually do for these events, but judging by my long run times, I felt that I could easily do it.
Then Wade left for the week to go backpacking with the scouts. And I had to find a babysitter, and though I had my brother secured a while back, some plans got changed and I had to scramble this week to find one closer to home. Lo and behold it was Youth Conference and so all my usual babysitters were gone--which was just as well, because I tend to stress out a lot if I'm gone somewhere where the babysitter can't get a hold of me easily--and I ended up having to ask my parents, again. Which stressed me out because I had to clean the house so they could spend the night. Which is a little different than cleaning the house so the 15 year old neighbor can babysit. Of course, I waited until Friday to do so, and by the time N. and I left for the race at 6 pm, I was halfway cooked.
But I still felt okay. I was hydrated and ready to roll.
There's so many details that you all don't care about, but at mile 2.5, I was done. Not just tired and plodding along. Done. I told N. to go ahead and I would catch up.
Ha.
By mile 7 I had convinced myself that I was going to pull out of the race. I have never not finished a race. Ever. But Friday night, I had conceded that even the good runners pull out.
Of course they pull out a race because they aren't going to win. Not because they fear they will be the last one across the line. But, you know, whatever.
I looked around as I came to terms with my decision and realized that (a) there was no one around me and (b) the finish line (from which we had been bussed to the starting line) was 6 (6.10 miles, if you want to get technical) away. I toyed around the idea of flagging down a car (because, yes, we were running beside a major road. In the dark. Because, we're smart like that, that's why.) but then I thought what if they were a serial killer and they kidnapped me. No one would even know until N. informed the race officials that I had never shown up at the finish line. By then I would be long gone.
So I kept going.
The next water station was a mile away and I figured I would just tell one of them I was done. Happy with my decision I started jogging. I came through the water station and kept plodding along before realizing that was my last chance to bail. I guess I had changed my mind.
Ugh. The remaining five miles were a mix of self-loathing, self-pity, and pain. I've been fighting an ankle thing all summer and the hills (of which we were assured the course was mainly downhill. Apparently, the race director's idea of downhill is vastly different than my idea of downhill. My version doesn't include running up hills to run down hills) aggravated whatever's going on with my foot. I have never hated running as much as I did between miles two and 12. At mile 12, I started walking with a girl who felt the same way I did. We ran the last half mile and then I went to find N.
N., while she didn't enjoy the run at all, ran it awesome. It's the story of my life. I need a sports psychologist.
And maybe a new hobby.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Fleeting Thoughts and Countdowns
* Summer needs to end. I never could understand why my mom would get so antsy towards the end of summer, but now that I have tasted the blessing of having a fidgety, bored six year old out of the house every day I cannot WAIT for school to start.
* That countdown: 20 days!
* Saturday, my running buddy, N. and I "practiced" our half-marathon by running 11 miles in the dark. It was eerie and creepy and...dark, but it was a good training run. We ran it with our watches only displaying the distance, not the time or pace as usual. This was to see if we could mentally run without a watch, and I have to say it was liberating. In fact, when we ended and looked up our time, (the watch still calculates time, average pace, and mile splits regardless of whether it's displayed or not) we had averaged 20 seconds per mile slower than our goal race pace. Which is AWESOME, since we didn't turn on our music at all and talked through the entire thing.
* That countdown: 10 days
* Wade is headed out on a scout trip here soon and I made a comment in a church meeting that got someone's underwear in a bunch. Seriously. I can't believe that we have to deal with this kind of crap at church. It frustrates me to no end.
* At the beginning of the racing season, I vowed I was going to concentrate on only one event--my yearly triathlon we do here in conjuction with our town's Days celebration. Then, somehow, I ended up training for a half marathon and a duathlon and the triathlon went to the sidelines. I'm a little sad because I think I could have done awesome if I would have put in the training time I had originally envisioned, but I'm happy I get to go hang out with cool friends at fun races. Makes me nervous for this triathlon though.
* That countdown: 18 days
* I'm starting to get nervous about the duathlon because of how late of a start it is (8 am) and the heat. And the six mile run after biking 30 miles. Oh, and the 3 mile run to start it off with. I'm also excited because it's my last race and then I'm taking time off. And I'm serious. Even when a friend mentioned doing a half marathon in October, there was not a stir in my heart to join her.
* That countdown: 38 days
* I've been consulting with my original running buddy who is due with baby #5 in a month. She's antsy to get back out there and start training again, but luckily, for me, she needs about 9 months to recooperate, with the up all nights and nursing. That should be about the time I'm ready to come back. And we're going to come back with a vengence. We have goals people!
* I realize that that last statement sounds like I'm making an announcement. I'm not. Just to clarify.
* My niece had to have surgery on her hip in June and the cast has been an incredible nuisance, mainly because it covers...everything...and so changing diapers and the such has been beyond a headache. I had been planning on taking the kids up to Downey, Idaho to my grandma's house for the rodeo and my brother and his wife (and little girl) were going to come up too. Then it was all up in the air because of this cast that renders them all but homebound. BUT, yesterday, she had it taken off, so we're all going to the rodeo this weekend. I'm really excited because I remember going when I was little and it being a blast. And because it's something to do that I don't even have to run insane amounts of miles to enjoy.
* That countdown: 2 days
* I'm starting a new novel. Like today. Writing one, not reading one. I'm pretty stoked about it. I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile and I just need to put it down.
* Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads this anymore. But you know what? I don't care. Because sometimes I like to go back and reread entries and marvel at how far I've come/how far I've fallen. :) Read. Or don't read. I'm still going to write. You know, when I feel like it.
* That countdown: 20 days!
* Saturday, my running buddy, N. and I "practiced" our half-marathon by running 11 miles in the dark. It was eerie and creepy and...dark, but it was a good training run. We ran it with our watches only displaying the distance, not the time or pace as usual. This was to see if we could mentally run without a watch, and I have to say it was liberating. In fact, when we ended and looked up our time, (the watch still calculates time, average pace, and mile splits regardless of whether it's displayed or not) we had averaged 20 seconds per mile slower than our goal race pace. Which is AWESOME, since we didn't turn on our music at all and talked through the entire thing.
* That countdown: 10 days
* Wade is headed out on a scout trip here soon and I made a comment in a church meeting that got someone's underwear in a bunch. Seriously. I can't believe that we have to deal with this kind of crap at church. It frustrates me to no end.
* At the beginning of the racing season, I vowed I was going to concentrate on only one event--my yearly triathlon we do here in conjuction with our town's Days celebration. Then, somehow, I ended up training for a half marathon and a duathlon and the triathlon went to the sidelines. I'm a little sad because I think I could have done awesome if I would have put in the training time I had originally envisioned, but I'm happy I get to go hang out with cool friends at fun races. Makes me nervous for this triathlon though.
* That countdown: 18 days
* I'm starting to get nervous about the duathlon because of how late of a start it is (8 am) and the heat. And the six mile run after biking 30 miles. Oh, and the 3 mile run to start it off with. I'm also excited because it's my last race and then I'm taking time off. And I'm serious. Even when a friend mentioned doing a half marathon in October, there was not a stir in my heart to join her.
* That countdown: 38 days
* I've been consulting with my original running buddy who is due with baby #5 in a month. She's antsy to get back out there and start training again, but luckily, for me, she needs about 9 months to recooperate, with the up all nights and nursing. That should be about the time I'm ready to come back. And we're going to come back with a vengence. We have goals people!
* I realize that that last statement sounds like I'm making an announcement. I'm not. Just to clarify.
* My niece had to have surgery on her hip in June and the cast has been an incredible nuisance, mainly because it covers...everything...and so changing diapers and the such has been beyond a headache. I had been planning on taking the kids up to Downey, Idaho to my grandma's house for the rodeo and my brother and his wife (and little girl) were going to come up too. Then it was all up in the air because of this cast that renders them all but homebound. BUT, yesterday, she had it taken off, so we're all going to the rodeo this weekend. I'm really excited because I remember going when I was little and it being a blast. And because it's something to do that I don't even have to run insane amounts of miles to enjoy.
* That countdown: 2 days
* I'm starting a new novel. Like today. Writing one, not reading one. I'm pretty stoked about it. I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile and I just need to put it down.
* Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads this anymore. But you know what? I don't care. Because sometimes I like to go back and reread entries and marvel at how far I've come/how far I've fallen. :) Read. Or don't read. I'm still going to write. You know, when I feel like it.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Farewell to Thee
It's hard to describe Ross to someone who had never met him. I met him my first Toastmaster's meeting. He was the grammarian and had an uncanny ability to pick out every grammatical mistake uttered. He was such a strange little man. Eccentric and odd. A bit loud. Not too quick on picking up on social cues.
He had the best stories about being a cab driver in Las Vegas, though I only believed about a third of them. He claimed to have met a host of celebrities and even knew Frank Sinatra.
Uh-huh.
He had moved to Salt Lake about 15 years ago and was a cab driver here.
About a year after I joined Toastmasters, Ross--who was becoming hard of hearing--misunderstood what someone was saying in their speech and took it to be offensive. That person refused to apologize and a fight broke out between them and a third guy (they are all roughly the same age--mid 60's), and Ross left the club.
I missed him at first because he did add just a bit of flair to the meetings, but over time, his presence was less felt and before long, he was a distant memory.
Two weeks ago, I had a fleeting thought about Ross. I was wondering what he was up to and that was about it. Then we found out that he had passed away from Leukemia--the very day I was thinking about him.
So creepy. I mean, this was someone that I was hardly close with. But, I felt like I shou\
ld go to his funeral.
Sidenote: I hate funerals. I do terrible at them. All of them. It doesn't matter who's there or not. I'm terrible.
But, I went.
For starters, I had no idea about his hard childhood filled with sicknesses. Or that he served in Korea. I did know that he spoke a few languages, but I had NO idea he was fluent in 10 (yes, TEN) languages, meaning he could write, speak, and read them. He could also only speak another 15. In fact, he was in the process of learning Icelandic when he passed away. Icelandic is the hardest language in the world to learn and only has about 300,000 speakers. He had a special knack for languages.
Everyone who spoke at Ross's funeral told about how intelligent and funny he was. They talked about how he wanted to get to know people and that was why he learned so many languages, so he could talk to anyone he met in their native tongue. He was especially compassionate and loved life to the fullest. Even though he was so incredibly smart and could have done anything, he wanted the simple life and chose to drive a cab.
The best part of the funeral came when a lady stood up towards the end of the services. She said that her husband was the next speaker but that he had an emergency surgery he had to perform. She was stalling time to give him a chance to get there. She spoke for about 10 minutes, relaying funny stories about Ross. When she had run out of things to say, she finally conceded that her husband wasn't going to make it.
The bishop (Ross was LDS, which was news to me) stood up to close the meeting with a few remarks, when in ran a guy in doctor scrubs. The bishop turned the time over to him and he gave some heartfelt remarks. He said he had to keep it short because his next patient was asleep on the table waiting for him.
Eek.
In the end, it was a very nice service and I'm glad I went. I was reminded of bigger things than what I've been concentrating on and I think I left a better person.
For a brief moment in time, I brushed up against a true genius, and I'm grateful for that association, even if it was only for a small chunk of time in Ross's life. But I'll always be grateful for what I learned after he was gone.
Oh, and those stories about the celebrities. All true. His sister had the pictures to prove it. Just goes to show you not to judge a book by it's cover.
He had the best stories about being a cab driver in Las Vegas, though I only believed about a third of them. He claimed to have met a host of celebrities and even knew Frank Sinatra.
Uh-huh.
He had moved to Salt Lake about 15 years ago and was a cab driver here.
About a year after I joined Toastmasters, Ross--who was becoming hard of hearing--misunderstood what someone was saying in their speech and took it to be offensive. That person refused to apologize and a fight broke out between them and a third guy (they are all roughly the same age--mid 60's), and Ross left the club.
I missed him at first because he did add just a bit of flair to the meetings, but over time, his presence was less felt and before long, he was a distant memory.
Two weeks ago, I had a fleeting thought about Ross. I was wondering what he was up to and that was about it. Then we found out that he had passed away from Leukemia--the very day I was thinking about him.
So creepy. I mean, this was someone that I was hardly close with. But, I felt like I shou\
ld go to his funeral.
Sidenote: I hate funerals. I do terrible at them. All of them. It doesn't matter who's there or not. I'm terrible.
But, I went.
For starters, I had no idea about his hard childhood filled with sicknesses. Or that he served in Korea. I did know that he spoke a few languages, but I had NO idea he was fluent in 10 (yes, TEN) languages, meaning he could write, speak, and read them. He could also only speak another 15. In fact, he was in the process of learning Icelandic when he passed away. Icelandic is the hardest language in the world to learn and only has about 300,000 speakers. He had a special knack for languages.
Everyone who spoke at Ross's funeral told about how intelligent and funny he was. They talked about how he wanted to get to know people and that was why he learned so many languages, so he could talk to anyone he met in their native tongue. He was especially compassionate and loved life to the fullest. Even though he was so incredibly smart and could have done anything, he wanted the simple life and chose to drive a cab.
The best part of the funeral came when a lady stood up towards the end of the services. She said that her husband was the next speaker but that he had an emergency surgery he had to perform. She was stalling time to give him a chance to get there. She spoke for about 10 minutes, relaying funny stories about Ross. When she had run out of things to say, she finally conceded that her husband wasn't going to make it.
The bishop (Ross was LDS, which was news to me) stood up to close the meeting with a few remarks, when in ran a guy in doctor scrubs. The bishop turned the time over to him and he gave some heartfelt remarks. He said he had to keep it short because his next patient was asleep on the table waiting for him.
Eek.
In the end, it was a very nice service and I'm glad I went. I was reminded of bigger things than what I've been concentrating on and I think I left a better person.
For a brief moment in time, I brushed up against a true genius, and I'm grateful for that association, even if it was only for a small chunk of time in Ross's life. But I'll always be grateful for what I learned after he was gone.
Oh, and those stories about the celebrities. All true. His sister had the pictures to prove it. Just goes to show you not to judge a book by it's cover.
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