The time I ran a half marathon

So, I ran a half marathon November 9th.  It was sort of a big deal for me.  I mean, I basically flunked out passed out off the track  in high school during a sprint.  I had to quit track because I couldn't run farther than a mile.  This was 13.1 miles, guys.  Seriously.  Thirteen point freaking one miles.

  I hurt my knee a few weeks before the half, so I was forced to take some time off after by my physical therapist and doctor (and, really, my knees.  They hate me.)  What was a month of PT and time off running has now, as of tomorrow, turned into two, and, unfortunately, is extended into the unforeseeable future.  (For those who are interested, I go back to the doctor tomorrow.  Two months of PT fixed one knee, but not the other.)

I didn't post about my half before because I was pouting.  For two months.  I stewed, pretty pissed off that I can't run.  Embarrassed, I guess, that I was posting about my half marathon as a "runner" but was unable to run.  I felt like a fraud.  (Also, spending two months working through my identity in Christ as his daughter, and not as a "runner" or some one who worked really hard at something and achieves a goal.  Tough stuff.)

But, I guess I've come to the conclusion that I DID run a half marathon (ground breaking conclusion, no?)  no matter what I'm doing now.  So, I guess I'll share. 

My friend's husband graciously picked up our packets for us and sent me a picture of my number the day before our race. 

It was a cold morning.  We had mittens, hats, coats, pants.  I almost didn't want to take off my pants for the start, but knew I'd be hot after a few miles.  (I think I gave my coat to E around mile 7.)  

My friends and I started towards the back.  I was anticipating a rather slow finish: me with my knees, my friend T who was 11 weeks postpartum, and a friend who's longest run had been 8 miles.  My goal was to finish and to have fun.

The first few miles, I entertained a few of our group by telling them about a horrendous birth I had just attended.  It was the week prior and the indignities, disrespect, and abuse were fresh on my mind.  I ranted for a good 2-3 miles.  

Mile 3 my knee is starting to stab, so I yank off the tape the PT had put on the night before at a late night appointment (6pm.  she was good to me.) 

Mile 5, and  I'm still hanging with my homies, (there's my friend T who ran the 10k with me)  Still feeling pretty good, though I remember my knee starting to hurt pretty bad. 

After mile 6 or so, my "bad" knee went completely numb.  It was seriously amazing.  When I was running, I felt little to no pain.  Every time I stopped to walk, it was painful.  

Miles 6,7,8, were pretty- most of that time spent on a greenway.  E and the kids stopped and visited, too.

Mile10- My running buddies and I had planned to do walk/run (when I trained I walked after every mile for about a minute), but I ended up breaking off  because it hurt too much to walk. 

Mile 11, I remember thinking/praying that I was actually going to do this thing.  I had 2.1 miles to go.  I was going to finish!

Mile 12, my other knee started to hurt some, but my bad knee was still numb.  I cried from the relief that I was going to finish.

Mile 13, there was a lady in front of me that had been there a while, but was slowing down.  I saw my training girls at the finish line, telling me to kick it into gear and pass her.  So, I sprint it in for the finish.  

I'm in the yellow shirt.  My chip time was something like 2:38:07

Some of my running friends.

My friend T and I. 

I did most of my training with this girl.  She's amazing!  She was such a wonderful partner.  I miss running with her like crazy!

My friend's husband captured this gem right before the finish line.  This is what I actually felt like the last .1.  

There you have it.  My half marathon.  Since it may be my only half marathon I ever run, I'm glad I was able to do it with my friends and not kill myself for a certain "time".

Crazy cat lady

I would apologize for not blogging in several months, but...its life.  Ya know?

What brought me back was actually a google search.  I typed in "turning down doula clients", sort of looking for professional wording to do that exact thing.  My OWN blog popped up.  In it, I mention having around 1 client a month.  Wow.  That was a LONG time ago.  Or, it feels like it was.

In October, I have 4 clients.  Thankfully, one of them already gave birth (in one of my favorite births so far.  If every birth could be that perfect...) but I have 3 more left.  2 of them are due in the next few days.  Of course, if I let it, I start getting anxiety with the timing of those births.  What if they go at the same time?  What if I'm at a birth during Eliza's birthday party? (total rabbit train, but, guys, she's going to be TWO next week!!)  What if I have a birth every weekend and I can't get in my long runs.

Long runs you say?  Oh, yeah.  I've been training for a half marathon.  For several months now.  Which, who knows if I'll even be able to run said race.  I hurt my knee Saturday running 12 miles (another aside- did you know I WALKED the mile in high school.  yeah.  I did.  And that same lady/girl ran 12 miles Saturday.)  somewhere around mile 10.  But, I was two miles from my car.  I had to get there some way or another.  You probably know all of this if you're my face book friend.  Since, I basically had a breakdown there about my knee.

I had another break down last night.  I was at the counter, making dinner.  E tried to hug me, but when I'm stressed (which I was) I don't like to be touched.  He asked why I was stressed and asked what he could do.  My answer went like this:

"well, I am overwhelmed.  I'm trying to make dinner and Isaac and Eliza are fighting for a turn to watch and help me.  I have to make something separate for Eliza and I tonight, so have to make two different dinners.  I'm sick of making two different dinners.  The kids never eat theirs anyway.  The kids never listen.  They left their stuff all over when they got home.  This house is a mess.  There are things everywhere.  We're having small group here tonight and there's crumbs all over the rug.  2 of my clients are due this weekend, and I need them to go at different times, but not on top of each other.  Then again, I don't even know if I can DO my job with the way my knee hurts.  My knee hurts so bad.  I'm scared I'm not going to be able to run my half.  What if I have to stop running for a long time?!?  I'm going to gain weight."

E's response:  "well, I can vacuum the rug."

Which, really, is about the only thing in that long list of things that any of us can control, right?

My first 10k

Back in February, I ran my first 10k.  

I was number two. (a last name with the first letters "ab" is hard to beat.)

I ran with a bunch of friends.

Most of which passed me.

So I hung out with my pregnant friend.  I made sure she drank water and took a couple of walking breaks.  Because I'm that awesome of a doula.  (I can see my new advertisement now.  "If you hire me as your doula, I will run a 10k with you and make sure you stay healthy during your run!"  Okay.  Maybe not.)

Said friend tells me that 1/2 marathons are fun.  I blame her for my new training regimen.  (Or, I will blame her when I have to run 8 miles 7 weeks from now and 14 miles on week 15.)  

The pretty cool news.  I came in 16th in my age group, with a time of 1:03. (I was 149 overall, with 210 finishers.  So, solidly in the middle.  Where I like to be.)

Thailand, half marathons, doula stuff

Well, I'm officially "out there" as a doula. I ordered a shirt and everything.  I've had an average of a birth a month, (2 in may!) and I've been going on more interviews.  The awesome thing, right now, is that I can pretty much work with most of the people who want to hire me.  I haven't had to turn someone down due to over scheduling, yet.  (although, I did turn someone down for a home birth.  Which, just killed me.  I just can't do it while midwife assisted births are still illegal in Alabama.  Once that's legal, I'm all over it!)

I'm super excited because my next client who is due is attempting a VBAC!  VBACs are especially dear to me because of my own VBAC experiences with my 3 youngest.  Its not that every vaginal birth isn't special, its just that there's this amazing realization for a VBAC mom when she has her first (and second and third) baby vaginally that she's not "broken".



So, speaking of doula stuff, I have to already start thinking about how close to our Thailand trip I'll take clients.  (Did you know E and I are going to Thailand??  For our 10th anniversary trip, even though it'll be close to 11 years.)  We've started looking at hotels and are likely going in February.  One of my dear friends is pregnant and due in the beginning.  She hasn't asked me to be her doula, nor do I expect her to, but I want to make sure we're around if she needs anything from us.

There's this super long list of things I'd like to do before we go to Thailand.  Thankfully, "lose weight" isn't on my list this year, (I hit 1 year as a life time member of Weight Watchers this week.) But, odder things made the list.  Things that likely won't happen, but its a dream list.  Here it is:

1. Get Lasik.  I was going to get it done last year, but was hesitant to do it while I was still nursing Eliza.  I'm still nursing her now, but will likely stop some time around age 2.  Or will be down enough to go ahead with the surgery.  I keep thinking about how nice it would be to not have to deal with contacts, cases, solution on a 40 hr trip over there and back.  Plus, you know, not having to worry about salt water in my contact in the ocean.

2.  Buy a super hot, non-momish, bathing suit that covers my stretch marked stomach. (Unless we some how hit the lotto and I get a tummy tuck and breast lift.)

3. Get a bikini wax.  I've heard the more times you go, the longer it stays away and it hurts less.  Not sure if I buy that, but I'm thinking about giving it a go.

4. Have bunion surgery.  See.  I told you it was a weird list. My bunion on my right foot has been hurting.  It goes through spurts of hurting/not hurting.  Its on a hurting spurt now.  It hurts most after I run or walk long distances. Obviously, we'll likely be doing some walking on our trip.  I'd love to be pain free.



Running.  Yeah.  I just put it out to the world via instagram that I'm planning on running a half marathon in the fall.  I started training yesterday.  I know.  Its crazy.  I am not a runner.  Or, that's what I always thought.  If my life was a newspaper, this story would read "girl who passed out at track meet and quit attempts to run a half marathon at age 31."

After training for my 10k, and not dying, or even feeling the need to die, I started to believe in myself a little.  Maybe I am a runner.  If I can run 6.2 miles with out much struggle, maybe I can run  8.  Or 10. Maybe I can run 13.1.  If I can't, at least I can say I tried, right?

Things I've been meaning to blog about, but haven't

Eliza got her 15 month pictures taken.  Unfortunately, I took so dang long choosing which pictures I wanted, I am still waiting to get them.  She's 16 months now. But, the sweetness.  Her complexion is just gold.  Well, ivory, really.  But, its so sweet and pale and perfect.

Our big kids were in the chorus in a musical at school- Alice in Wonderland.  I had to whip up some lobster claws for A.  The kids did great, and I enjoyed what I could while chasing a 15 month old around.  (Although, it reaffirmed by dislike of the Alice in Wonderland story/movie.  Not a fan.  I find it creepy.)

I made pirate patches for the boys' valentines.  (O didn't want to do them.  Something about pirates being for boys.  oiy!)  

I've been training for my first 10k.  My race is on Sunday.  I'm super duper nervous, especially since this week has been super light on training because of life circumstances.  But, I got my new shoes a few weeks ago, broke them in, and I'm ready to go!

We went to this super cool place called "Supper Heroes .  They have comics as art, a room with an arcade game that the kids can play while you wait for your food, even supplies to make comics of your own at the table.  The kids loved it, the food was great, and the owner came out several times to check on us.  Plus, Isaac got to wear his batman costume.  

O's injections have been going well.  As of last week (so two weeks on the medicine) she's grown as much as she had an entire 18 months.  Only 1/4 of an inch, but its huge for her!  Unfortunately, we've run into some issues with our insurance.  I have to make, likely several, phone calls today to figure things out in order for her next shipment to arrive on time.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate dealing with that sort of thing? 

Speaking of O, this girl turns eight a week from today.  Eight.  It seems so old!

On suppliments, bruising, and hating excersise

I'm fairly certain I need some more calcium in my diet.  Between my thyroid medication (which depletes calcium) and my lack of dairy intake, I'm not bringing in the bone reinforcements.  Before Eliza's allergy testing, I bought a giant bottle of calcium (and another bottle of folic acid) supplements.  After we found out that I needed to cut out soy, it took me a while to figure out why she was still having symptoms.  Some one told me to check out my vitamins.  Sure enough, my calcium supplement has soy letchin.  I've been so frustrated with the fact that I spent $15 on a supplement that I can't take that I have yet to replace them with anything else (it doesn't help that I haven't been able to find a soy free one in the regular grocery store.)  I know its stupid, since you know, the only one I"m hurting is ME. But, man, it makes me MAD!

Speaking of supplements, I think I may have to have my iron tested again.  (I had it tested during my pregnancy with Eliza, and it was above average.)  I've been bruising like a peach, and most of the bruises I have no idea where they came from.  (Although, if I'm honest, I'm a little more clumsy than the average bear.)  Gauging my tiredness level is no help.  I'm fairly certain anyone with 4 kids, one of whom eats 1-2 times a night, is tired.  I got over my fear of blood draws a long time ago, but I'm still putting this off.  Mainly because I have a fear of waiting rooms.  Okay, so maybe its not a fear, per se, but a much-deserved dreading.  Those labs are always small, busy, filled with old people, half of whom don't like children, and have tons of things that my preschooler and baby shouldn't be playing with but they desperately want to play with. 

While I'm on the topic of being tired, I've been trying to run in the mornings before E goes to work (versus in the evening, before bed).  Its.....um.....a challenge.  E leaves between 5:45 and 6.  So, I have to be back from my run between 5:45 and 6.  Even with my early risers, that's dang early.  (Especially with a 1 and 3 am wake up calls for milk.)  This morning, I happened to wake up about 10 minutes before my alarm.  I laid there, the entire 10 minutes, arguing with myself on whether or not I was going to get my butt out of bed and run.  Yes I am, no I'm not.  I'm going to sleep.  I'm getting up.  I don't want to.  I have to.  UGH!  Fine.  I'm up.  Sure, in the end, I did it.  I'm glad I did it because now its over and I don't have to think about it.  But, man, those few minutes of talking to myself are exhausting.  I wish I had a natural love of running.  So, it'd be like getting up early to have a cup of coffee by myself.  That, I would rarely argue about.

 

Did I ever share back to school pictures?  The big kids went back to school last week.  They are both loving it (which is such a blessing!)  A came home from school every day last week and said "school is awesome!"  That is music to a momma's ears, folks. Isaac doesn't start until next week, after labor day, but he's excited as well. We're getting back into a routine, which sort of helps every one.  I pretty much suck at schedules/routines during the summer.  But, yet, we all seem to thrive on one.  Maybe next summer, I'll pony up.

 

Me and my munchkins on the first day of school

Its a me party

5:15 E's alarm clock goes off and wakes me up.  Which scares and shocks me all at the same time.  See, I'm not normally even in our bedroom when E gets up.  I normally move to Eliza's room after her early morning (2-4 am) feeding and sleep on the bed in her room.

6:00 the boys are awake and giggling in their room.

6:15 O is up and E is out the door.  I take the bigger 3 kids out back to play and eat breakfast on the patio.

7:00 Bananas in Pajamas (are coming down the stairs!) for the kids, and I dive into my coupons. My Internet keeps crashing.  I almost through my stupid mouse at the computer screen.

8:30 Eliza finally wakes up.  I'm super engorged, so she keeps pulling off during "breakfast" and it hurts so much I want to cry. (thrush, anyone??)

9:45 Finally finish coupons. 

9:50 we head to the bank, then to the store to buy our groceries.  Where I have to tell the older kids to "please stop talking to me for a few minutes!  I'm trying to THINK!"  So, yeah.  A tiny bit excited that I'll only be taking 2 to the grocery store with coupons next week.

11:00 Make lunch for the older kids and put Eliza down for a nap.

12:00 Get big kids settled in for quiet time.  Lay down with Isaac, in hopes that he'll take a nap.

1:00 Its a no-go for the nap.  I laid with him for a half hour, and I can hear him pounding on something in there.

1:03 I decide to try to make the paper lanterns I have planned for Eliza's party.  Unfortunately, I've bought the wrong sized dixie cup.  Dagnabbit.

1:30 I sweep and mop the floors.  Isaac freaks (he's not a huge fan of the mopping.  "too swippewy, mommy!") so I send him and O outside to paint.

2:00 Painting seems to be a hit with Isaac.  O is done because most of the "good" colors are dried up. Eliza's up, I feed her a snack while I finish my chores.

2:30 I'm getting a headache.  Seems to happen a lot around this time every day.  Maybe its because I didn't eat lunch.  Speaking of food, Crap!  I forgot to put dinner in the crock pot!  HIGH setting it is.  

3:20 its too late for "lunch", but I have got to eat something.  Coffee?  Salted Carmel latte??  Yes.  I eat an apple and some almonds, too.

4:00 time to feed shark baby (its what she feels like when she eats right now) and put her down for another nap.

4:30 E's home.  Time to go run!

I quit! (post I wrote before my announcement)

I'm quitting my 10k training!

Its true.

Not because it was too hard.

Not because I wasn't enjoying it.

Not because I didn't think I could do it.

Not even because of my tailbone issues.

Nope, I'm quitting because I am in love.

I am in love with, this:

(Well, okay, maybe not the pregnancy test.  But, definitely what it means.) 

I'm still going to be running. 

Not as far.

Not as intense.

Not as often.

But, for a good reason.

I was a runner before

No, not really.  But, I was on the track team.  For about 2 weeks. 

See, our school was kind of small.  In fact, I think my graduating class had 52 people.  For some less popular sports, like track, we didn't have try outs.  We were often hurting for people so bad that we often had to combine with other small schools to compete. 

That's what happened with the track team my senior year.  Some friends convinced me that it would be super fun to run track.  You know, stay in shape after cheerleading, etc.  I thought, "what the heck.  I can run, right?" 

I joined the track team.  First practice- run 3 miles.  Ummm....  what?  All I own are cheerleading shoes.  Did I mention I walked the mile in gym class?  You want me to RUN 3 miles?  Run right now?

As you can imagine, I fell behind quickly.  After one mile, we passed by the subdivision where I lived.  Instead of continuing on, I went home and collapsed on the floor in a heap, trying to catch my ragged breath.  I peeled off my Asic's and swore that tomorrow, yes tomorrow, I would run further.  I'll run 3 miles tomorrow with no problems.

Tomorrow came and went, and I went right to my house again, ready, I thought, to die.  I couldn't breath, and I had blisters all over my feeet.  The track coach got a clue, (I think) and thought I might be better in sprinting.  I was to run in a relay.

Race day came, and I was sick (later, I found out, with bronchitis).  I still hadn't been trained, and I still hadn't been able to run more than a mile.  During the race, I got dizzy, closed my eyes, and passed out.

You know, I never really liked running after that. 

Here's me and my team

I still can't say that I love running, since I really have to psych myself up to get out there.  Sometimes I get really bored and sometimes its super hard.  But, I do occasionally enjoy it now.

 I ran my first 5k on Sunday.  I didn't die.  I didn't come in last.  I even passed other runners!  The difference between these 3 miles and the 3 miles of yester year?  Training my friends, training.  It seems so simple now, doesn't it?  But, as a young 17 year old, I thought I could conquer anything, including a 3 mile run with out any preparation.  What a silly girl I was.

me on Sunday before the race

almost to the finish line!

The race was exciting, fun, and definitely worth it (although I struggled with some major anxiety before I got to the race.)  I was completely proud of myself for running the entire thing (I had been running 3 miles at home, but I was never sure on exact distances.)  Now that I have one of those 5ks under my belt, I may work up to a 10k.  It'll be a while.  But, its a far cry from that girl who stopped running when she passed her house on a track team run.  A far cry, indeed.

I swore I'd never be that person

"what person?" you ask.

You know, the one who said  "I want to run so bad!" or "I love running." 

I can tell you that I am keeping my promise to myself.  Sort of. 

While I won't go as far to say that I love running, I will say that I'm hating it less and less.  If I'm being completely honest, I'll even go as far in saying that I've enjoyed it a time or two. 

Everyone I ever talked to that enjoyed running has said to me "Oh, I used to hate it to.  But, now I love it."  I also thought those people were crazy.  Like running hippies or something.  I just couldn't imagine ever liking something that made me look so absurd, and made me feel like I was dying.

A few months ago (maybe 4 or so) I started adding some running to my work out routine (mainly because I have a 10 year high school reunion coming up and I wasn't getting the results I wanted from just the weights.)  I'd run 1/2 a mile, do my weights, sit ups, etc. then run another 1/2 mile.  Even after 2 months of that, I still hated running.  I watched the treadmill stats like it was going out of style, and as soon as that little odometer reached .5 I flung the red emergency magnet off.

I would come home and tell E how I loathed running.  How I hated the way it made me feel.  He suggested, gently, that I may be pushing myself too hard.  I was, after all, a new runner.  Maybe I was running too fast and too much at once.  I've never been good at pacing myself, so this made sense.

I knew that a lot of my friends have had wonderful success with the Couch to 5K program.  I decided to give it a try. 

I didn't start on week one, since I had been running some and I wasn't really starting from the "couch".  I started on week two.  At first, I started on the treadmill.  As summer has transitioned into fall, I have started running outside (but, still in the early a.m. or later in the evening since its still quite warm during the day here.)  We started doing some of the running as a family.  Putting some kids in the jogger, some riding bikes.  Those, honestly, are my favorite times.  They keep me entertained. :)

On Wednesday, I hit a major milestone.  (If you're my friend on Facebook or Twitter, I'm sure you've heard all about it.)  I ran 2 full miles, with out stopping.  This is the longest I have ever run straight.  (Except in my days on the track team in high school.  They were short lived. That's a whole different story that I'll have to tell someday.  Its pretty funny.) 

Guess what!  I didn't hate it!  I actually didn't loathe it.  Maybe it was because I knew I could do it that made it not so bad.  Or that I actually did it in a pretty decent time (which, I think I was going a little too fast, though...) Whatever it was, I enjoyed it.

I know, I know.  Enjoying is bordering on liking.  Once you get to liking, its all down hill to love. 

*sigh* I do love to run downhill.