Who Moved my Capitol?

Because if the Capitol was still there, then I wouldn't have missed the part about running up and around the back of it, now would I? I wouldn't have missed .75 miles of today's awesome not-quite-16-mile run, now would I?

As I may have alluded to in my last post, I was a teensy bit worried about today's run. What with never having run more than 13 miles before, and that included a 20-minute-porta-potty layover. And there was last Saturday's 10-miler where I gave up for no apparent reason. So, I was a bit tremulous about this morning.

Until...a little vixen named a. maria suggested I think of it as three five-mile runs. As she so cogently put it: "Even you can run five miles!"

Brilliance.

So, last night I marked up the hand with where the five mile intervals were. Then I ran all the numbers and printed out some charts and graphs, showing times for 5, 10, and 15 miles and a total time of 3:12 for 16 miles. Which would be a nice 12 min./mile pace, and get me a 5:14 marathon time, after which I could die happy.

Blah, blah, long story short: I started out with my friend The Other Jen, and her friend Kim, but they were running intervals. I couldn't find my other other friends, Christy and her friend Suzanne, but they are too fast for me anyhow (yes, you are!). So, blah blah blah, I ended up running alone, but behind a guy who was holding a nice steady pace.

We ran by the Iwo Jima memorial, over the Key bridge, through Georgetown, down by the river, by the Kennedy Center, all along the National Mall, and then, oopsie ... where did everyone go? I finally said hello to my pacer, James, and told him he was pacing me, and thanks! Right by the center of the photo, above, we kinda lost the group. Hmmm...where could they be?? Oh well, onward!

To water stop 9.7 miles where there were frozen grapes. Better. Than. Sex. Frozen. Grapes.

On toward Haine's Point (we all remember Haine's point, right?):



We did a loop around the point—what a beautiful day, beautiful scenery, the river, golfers, triathletes doing the loop—I'm not sure why, but running that beautiful flat point is like going through the bowels of hell. Maybe it's just the memories. By now James and I were running together and had actually exchanged a few words ... he works on some committee that oversees homeland security. (Now I have to kill all of you, har-de-har ...)

James was fading on the point. He was slowing down, and we took a few longish walk breaks. But ... I didn't need to!! Awesomeness. I was speeding up (or was it just relative?). I hung with him til the end of the point, and he wanted to walk again and I said sayonara, cuz I guess I had used him up and was now tossing him aside like I do with so many other me ... nevermind.

Next stop was the 14th street bridge, another reminder of hell. It's mile 20 of the MCM. But this time, I actually ran up the hill to reach it, and then ran over it, and this time I ran all the way back to the Pentagon—about three miles, with no walking.

Give me the award already, and clear the podium.

So, it wasn't 15.75 miles, it was 15. And I didn't finish in 3:12, I finished in 3:29. But I could have gone longer. I didn't need all the walk breaks I took. I didn't want to quit. Not once. I even ran up a hill at mile 13 ... past other people, other male people, even.

This, this is how we're gonna run the MCM, people.

This is how we're gonna do it.

NO WAY!!!

I don't want to believe it either. Though an interview I read earlier today with Floyd Landis' mother had me thinking: "This guy needs a new mother!" She's since talked to Floyd and now says he didn't do it. But geeze, how about a mother who doesn't need to talk to her son first before declaring her allegiance?

Moving on:
Last night instead of a track workout, I did hills. Times four. A half mile hill. Up it. Four times. Which means down it four times. Little did I know at the time that you add that up and get ... four miles. Now, throw in the run to get to the evil hill and the run back, another three miles, and my 4-mile track workout somehow turned into seven miles. Rock on! My pace on the hill (which to be fair, is a wee bit shy of .5 miles) was about 5:18, a little faster than my 10K pace. (God, I love it when I talk like this.) So this will make me stronger. Right? RIGHT??? Cuz right now? I pretty much feel like limp spaghetti and, sigh, as usual, am convinced I will never run again. I barely made it to the car tonight. (See Bikram story, below.)

I sloged (sludged + jogged) back to work. The whole thing took 1 1/2 hours. It was 9:30 by the time I got back to work, where I was so tired I couldn't even take a shower. For some reason, people were still there, and still wanted to talk to me! In my condition.

Then I came home and did some writing 'til 11:30.

So I skipped this morning's 4-mile run because seven? Last night? Tonight was Bikram. I have officially switched studios from the lovely 5th-floor-walk-up-but-filled- with-intense-mirror watching-people studio in Dupont Circle (downtown D.C.) to a smelly not-so-great one nearer my office and not on the 5th floor. Tonight, the instructor warned that it would be "hotter inside because it was hotter outside." I pondered this question (among others) for the entire 90 minutes. Can't they regulate the heat? So, yeah, it's hot out. Put the thermostat on 120 and if it goes to 121, then um, turn it down.

Whatever.

At the end, my head hurt and and I was so not at peace. Drenched to the bone as usual, with a heart rate that would not cease its maddening beat. (Kinda like the "Telltale Heart.") The older gentleman next to me had been groaning and fussing throughout the entire class, which was bugging the HELL out of me. I'M TRYING TO GET TO MY PEACEFUL PLACE here, jackass. Shut up already.

So here's the other question I pondered: Why is it only men who groan during exercise class? I swear to God, I have never heard a woman groan incessantly through a 90-minute Bikram, or spinning, or anything class. And don't tell me we're not working as hard.

I have a theory, but you go first.

More news:
Saturday is a 16-mile run with DCFIT. This is the first time I have ever tried to run 16 miles. Get on your knees and pray.

I keep forgetting to announce that I have two races coming up before the Big One:
The Montgomery County Parks Half, on Sept. 24, with Finally Running Susie and her s.o. David, who have graciously accepted my invitation to stay with me in my little castle—paaartay!; and
this crazy 20K that Bex talked me into. (Why does a 20k sound worse than a half? I dunno but it does.) Actually at the moment they both sound ghastly. But I know they'll be fun. Right? RIGHT??

Please, like a bad boyfriend, just lie to me.

No Way

"Wasted Time at Work Still Costing Companies Billions in 2006," says salary.com.

Top time-wasting activity? Surfing The Internet (personal use): 52 percent.

Get back to work.

It's a Strategy

Until my running mojo comes back.

Six miles on sked for this morning. At mile three, I wanted to bail. But I was very stern with myself. No, self, I said. You can bail from running, but you are going to get six miles in this morning if I have to beat you (me?) with a stick. Just like the good dominatrix I am.

So i started walking.

And then, voila, like magic, I started running. Cuz walking? Takes too long.

For all you enquiring minds: I tried to spare you, but y'all are relentless! So, for the record: I did not poop myself during Saturday's run, in large part due to Nancy Toby's * excellent prescription: one immodium upon waking; another 20 min before running; drink water til you burst (paraphrasing here); and salt yo'self up.

Now, I just need to schedule the lobotomy that will keep me from walking when there is no need to walk. I mean, I don't mind taking a walk break when needed, but I didn't need it on Saturday.

So there ya have it. No thrills, chills, or spills. So far. This week.

Stay tuned.

*NT is not a doctor, nor does she play one on the Internet. She knows a helluva lot about nutrition and poop, though.

Not Perfect, But Ten

I ran 10 miles on Saturday, it was hilly, hot, humid, I walked a lot on the way back, and when I ran, I ran very slowly, and the run lasted forever, I'll never be able to finish a marathon, why did I start this, I suck, blah blah blah blah, etc. Who cares.

Meanwhile, over in Belgium, your U.S. national rowing men's 4 with cox made it to the World finals today. There were six boats in the "A" final (the only event we cared about, since Number One Daughter's BF was in it, for those of you just tuning in), and here are the results:


(Those are minutes, people.)

New Zealand set a new world record.

I asked NOD how the BF felt about this result, and she said, "Well, he was upset, but then he realized that the U.S. came in sixth in the world."

See, this is what separates the champs from the chumps.

I know how much I hate coming in last. I can only imagine what these guys felt, when they're so used to coming in first.

But somehow, despite their disappointment, I don't think I'm going to hear any of them moaning about how they suck. In fact, NOD told me that all the teams went out together last night to paaar-tttyyy, and the best part (according to the BF) was that they all exchanged rowing gear.

So, in my book, our boys get big fat ten:



(P.S. Kudos to the women's eight who brought home the gold medal!)

Things I've Got Going for Me

The verdict: DCFIT good; Saturday run bad. All I'm gonna say is: GI tract. OK?

It was really hot and really humid. Like you-showered-with-your- clothes-on-humid. The consensus (thanks, Nancy!) is that I was dehydrated (I'm not stupid, I hydrate like crazy but apparently sweat like crazy too), and that leads to ... bad things.

Run recap over!

Well, not quite. Eleven miles on Saturday took me 2 1/2 hours. I don't know how I made it back. I thought about taking a cab. But I didn't. I didn't want to inflict myself on a cabbie. It's pretty amazing what you can do when you have no real options. So I walked/ran/dragged myself back to the Pentagon.

I was pretty down—depressed— Sunday and it lasted right thru Monday. I seriously contemplated quitting, because who was I kidding?? I have too many problems to keep on with this running crap. Blisters, PF, chafing, now my back was acting up, and the final straw was this GI stuff, which made a funny story the first time. But the second time? Is quite another thing.

In my quest to understand what is happening with my body, I was talking to the amazing jeff, who was giving me all kinds of encouragement and advice about what in my life and diet might be exacerbating this problem, and I found myself writing back to him about the "things I had going for me," which led to me really thinking about the things I have going for me (don't worry, it's a short list):

1. Perseverence.


2. The Will to improve.


3. I can run. I know I have said this before, but I have to keep reminding myself, so you have to keep reading it: I can run. Three years ago I was using a cane to walk. Three years ago I was ready for the back surgeon. Every time I run, even badly, it's a little miracle.


4. And let's not forget: I'm off anti-depressants—a direct result of running.


5. An awesome coach.


6. And of course, all of you.
   

And then, as so often happens, I ran six good miles Tuesday morning. Six miles is still a big deal for me. (See #3.)

So, I returned from the hairy edge of bailing (see #1).

Who knows if I'll make it across the finish line on Oct. 29? I do know for certain that I'll keep trying until every part of my body tells me it's over. And I have to be prepared for that to happen, given my history.

But I'll tell you this: I'm not gonna go quietly. And I'm sure there will be plenty more times when I will feel like giving up. But I'm not gonna give up. Not. Going. To. Give. Up. Got it?

You need more inspiration than my little story? Check out "What He’s Been Pedaling," a feature on Floyd Landis from the New York Times Magazine. Take a look at what Landis' life is like:

...in almost every [other] situation in his life, Landis is slow. He walks with a limp. He sits as often as possible and cannot cross his right leg over his left. He takes elevators instead of stairs, valet-parks at the shopping mall and sometimes has difficulty sleeping. Running is out of the question. Like many of the 216,000 Americans who will receive hip replacements this year, his life is defined by chronic, debilitating pain.

I know what years of chronic, debilitating pain feel like. Watching Landis in the Tour, and reading his (and others'—many of them yours) stories, reminds me that I'm hardly alone in my little struggle.

Now that's encouraging.

Rowin' and Representin'

Is it still bragging if it's a) not about you and b) not about someone related to you? Yeah? Well, tough, cuz I feel like delaying as long as possible a write-up of yesterday's train wreck of a 10-mile run. So, let's talk about exciting news about someone I have met.

Number One Daughter's BF was invited to try out for the U.S. National rowing team, and made it. "In total, nine crews will represent the United States at the 2006 FISA World Rowing Under 23 Championships scheduled to run July 20-23 in Hazewinkel, Belgium."

He left for Belgium yesterday. His family is leaving on Monday to travel around Europe before hooking up with him in Belgium next week.

NOD had a sudden urge to go to Belgium.

NOD's mother hasn't got an extra dime to her name.

But...NODBF's mother knows how to work online airfares like nobody's business, scoring a most excellent last-minute fare.

NOD's father came thru with the dough.

NOD's workplace said "no problem" when she asked for 4 days off of her intensive summer internship.

Result? NOD is going to Belgium next week—lucky bugger. She's even staying gratis with the BF's family; plus, they are fetching her from and bringing her back to the airport in Brussels.

Personally, I don't know what the big deal is. Just to see some more hawt guys in spandex making funny faces?:




These fetching young chaps be representin', y'all!

Track Attack

You see? That's what I have to do to keep track of what I'm s'posed to be doing at the track.

Except what I was supposed to be doing at the track on Wednesday night was explained thusly by my head coach, to wit:

2 x 12:00 tempo run with 1:30 rest between the two sessions

Upon further questioning, my sub-coach (no really, that's what they're called), explained it thusly:

My interpretation: Run 12 minutes, recover, repeat. Try to make sure you go as many laps for second set of 12 minutes as the first set.

That's just too complicated. Plus I still didn't get it. Whatever. I told myself, self, just do the track workout you did a few weeks ago; 6x800. Only this time, at Bex's suggestion, instead of doing it at McMillan's "cruise" interval pace—5:19 to 5:26—I did at at his "speed workout pace" for long-distance runners: 4:55.9 to 5:09.7, with a 3:00 min recovery.

Result:

1st 800: 5:11
recovery 3:00
2nd 800: 5:15
rec 3:02
3rd 800: 5:11
rec: 3:08
4th 800: 5:12
rec: 3:05
5th 800: 4:59
rec:3:11
6th 800: 4:43
rec. walking!

Booyah!

(To add to the drama, it was raining, thundering, and lightning at the track. And I was the only one there. I take my thrills where I can get them.)

So, what else is new, you ask? I'm glad you asked. I have a new running group! The final straw was five pages of instructions from my current group describing our running route this week. For 13 miles. That would have made for a nice walk.

My new group is DCFIT. They run in pace groups and actually have one that is my speed, and is actually a running, not running/walking (not that there's anything wrong with run/walk) group. After much research and calling and e-mailing and research, I decided I'd go with DCFIT. Only to find out they're not accepting any more runners. Only to find out that the only way you can join them at this late date is through one of their charity partners. Which of course means fundraising. Except: I clicked on the first charity partner, Cure Autism Now, and viola (or is that voila?), CAN has no minimum fundraising requirement! Which of course was too good to be true. (I am not against fundraising, but raising $2+K last year for HIV/AIDS about did me and all my friends in.)

So. Where was I?

Lots of calls ensued, because it was all too good to be true. Did I have to pay twice for the MCM, cuz that's what it implied on CAN's Web site? I did not. Was it true no minimum fundraising? It was indeed. And what about DCFIT, how much to join them? Nada, since I'm fundraising for CAN (and I am fundraising for them, look-ee here).

In a world gone mad with no service and outdated Web sites and basically no one who actually runs things ever knowing anything, all the little dominoes lined up on this one, and bingo—I'll be at the Pentagon at 6 a.m. (!#%$!!!!) Saturday morning, all ready to run 10 miles with my new group.

Ain't life grand?

To celebrate, I'm taking down the Bad Steely Dan vid, and replacing it with something. Something better.

Spinning, Running ...

There's only one thing missing from that line-up!! Now, if those two activites were not separated by 12 hours, well, then, I could call it a BRICK! (I love it when I talk like that.)

Monday: 6:30 a.m. spinning class. So biking? Not so easy. But at least you're outdoors, right? Spinning? God almighty, this has to be the most boring exercise on earth. Give me Bikram, please. I'm gonna go door-to-door to collect money for a buy-this-girl-a-bike fund so that I can bike outdoors. Cuz then I get to coast! As it turns out, the 45 minute spin class didn't kill me. It seems I actually am getting fitter, because I remember how three years ago I took the very same spinning class and it actually did kill me. It took a few years, but I was eventually raised from the dead. So spinning is going on the sked as a once-a-week cross-training event, cuz at least the tunes are good. And I get to feel righteous being in class at 6:30 a.m.

Our heroine was supposed to run eight miles on Tuesday. (That would be today. Huh. Time flies.) But as Monday night rolled around I thought, hey, I'm feeling pretty good, let's see how hard it is to do two workouts in one day! I mean, I read about people doing this all the time. How hard can ...

This run was supposed to be a "pace run": two-mile warm-up, four miles at pick-your-pace (10m, 10k, or 5k), two-mile cool-down.

Instead, because I'm easily confused, I did two miles at 10k pace, with no warm up, and one mile at 5k pace and ... you know what? I just run. If it's not a race, I don't seem to have a lot of control. (I guess that's why they call this training.)

Result? Kind of a train wreck. Seven miles instead of eight, and I could tell things were falling apart by mile five:

10:45
10:49
10:14
10:29
11:10
11:59
12:48

No one can say I don't know how to COOL DOWN at least. That part, I nailed.

Tomorrow, four miles. On the track maybe. Or maybe off.

But I'll tell you this much: I'll be back, Jack.

Adieu Lulu

I knew I could count on my peeps to come thru for Lulu! Go read her comment love to you.

Meanwhile, let's get back to important stuff: me. I ran 10 miles Saturday. Saturday was a step-back week.

So, how did I do on 10 miles? I did GREAT! I decided I needed to run on a marked trail so I could get some good idea of my pace (instead of wandering around the city with my marathon "group" looking for portapotties) so I ran on a trail by myself. Started out at 7 a.m., and it went like this:
11:29
11:10
11:01
11:07
11:34
11:52
10:53
10:59
11:30
10:29

Average: 11:10 min/miles.

Now those are some decent splits for me for that distance.

After I got back to the car, I ripped off my dri-max (wet-max) shirt and huh. Funny, I didn't remember wearing a red running bra. RED?!? Wait...is that...oh yes, that's BLOOD, soaked clear thru my previously white bra.

See, I had a teensy bit of chafing on my UPPER CHEST (no, not where you think, only boys get chafing there) and even though I bodyglided it like a maniac (I am so suing bodyglide), the skin—all of it— chafed right off. I looked like I'd been shot. Funny how I didn't even notice it. Hardcore, huh.

In other boring but good news: blisters did not hurt & no foot pain!! So, I'm all good people.

This morning I did a spinning class, and learned once more, that, biking? Is hard.

Next Saturday 13 miles is on the schedule. Thirteen miles thru the city, trailing far behind my group, trying to figure out where the f I am. My group is not exactly (shocker) what I'd hoped. Not a lot of coaching happening. None, actually. So, Saturday, I cheated on them after running my 10 miles, and went to another local running club's marathon orientation program, all ready to sign up with them, except, guess what, I'd be running by myself with them, too, because the next slowest runner had a 10k time of 55 minutes (mine is 1:07), and this program actually uses pace groups. So I'm kinda bummed. This new group had some serious coaches; all RRCA-certified. The head coach said I was welcome, but...yeah, I'd be running alone. Which I totally don't mind. What I do mind is running alone while trying to figure out where the hell I am, with no one checking to see if I'm dead or alive. And if I'm that far behind everyone, then I guess I can't expect the coach to run back and make sure I haven't croaked.

Whatever. With Bex's help, we came up with my own schedule. I'll still do the long runs with my original goup because it's good training to run thru the city on unfamiliar roads—right? Actually, I have no idea if that makes sense. Good thing this "program" only cost $40. You know that old saying..."There's a sucker ..."... "Run slow? Run alone."

Calling All Runners

We have a runner down!

The runner in question is not an RBF'er, or even a blogger, but I want to show her a) how popular I am, and b) the power of the RBF!

Let's call her Lulu. Lulu is training for her first 1/2 marathon, the VA Beach half, on Sept. 3, and she was right on track for a sub-two hour time, when ... well, I'll let her tell you:

Had long run on Saturday (7 miles, faster than usual pace, some sub-8 minute miles). Rest day Sunday.

3-miler on Monday—1/2 mile in, noticed pain in my left foot, but ran thru it.

Hobbled around on Monday night and Tuesday. My foot really hurt when I put weight on it, but not at all when I didn't. Not too much swelling. RICE'd intermittently Monday-Wednesday. Called Doc on Wed. and made appointment for Friday (today). Started to feel better Wednesday night thru today, but went to Doc anyway.

Doc asked what kind of shoes I wear, how often I run, distances, etc. Said that I had a hairline crack in my longest (2nd?) metatarsal. He squeezed and hurt me a little bit, then said there was definitely some swelling. For the first time, in the horrific fluorescent lighting, I noticed a slight greenish tint to the area on top of my foot. Doc offered a boot, but said it wasn't completely necessary, and actually said that rigid shoes would probably be fine. He would do the boot if I had a full fracture (as opposed to a crack).

He wants to make sure I'm healing properly before recommending a running schedule and other preventative measures, but was sympathetic and understanding about my desire to get back out there. Wants me back in three weeks—I have to refrain from running, jumping, dancing, etc., during that time, but I don't have to stay completely off of it.

He said no more icing—could actually make things worse 24 hours after injury. Instead he suggested a warm foot bath. He didn't wrap it.

Doc said he usually recommends 6-8 weeks of healing time before running again, but depending on the x-rays at 3 weeks (and my determination), it's possible that I could be running again in a month.

The 1/2 marathon is in 8 weeks. My goal was to run it in 2 hours or less. I was at roughly an 8:50 average pace at the time of injury and my longest run was 7 miles (two days before the catastrophic event).

(And I worked hard getting to a sub-9 minute average page—how depressing!)

So, my fine friends, who has had this kind of injury? And can we help Lulu? Pep talks? Advice? Pity? Is the half still possible? What can she do in the meantime so as not to lose all her gains? Ya got anything at all (and I know you do!), please leave Lulu a comment.

'preciate it, y'all.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

I had six miles on the schedule for yesterday. Well, for one day this week. The schedule is kind of shot to hell because of various foot ailments, and one fun vacation. I took the day off to recuperate from my vacation and spent it doing a lot of nothing. But exhausting kinds of nothing. Cleaning, laundry, ironing—you know, the stuff I routinely ignore. For long periods of time. So I left my six-miler (my most hated distance) til latish, for me—7 p.m.

Number One Daughter came with me (wow, this is getting to be a habit!) We headed out to a different trail than our usual one, the C & O Canal, where the first three miles is slightly uphill and, guess what, after the turnaround, it's all slightly downhill. Funny how it works that way.

I was tired. I was cranky. I was in Big Bad Mood. I was hungry. I was dehydrated. I was totally convinced I would bag this run at 2 miles, because I can't run in this condition. Oh, and it was dark. Because of the rain.

NOD ran one way (opposite me, good call on her part) and I ran the other.

So you already know how this cliff-hanger ends, don't you? I know you do! Coach told me to go as slowly as I liked for five miles, and then try to break 10 minutes on my last mile.

It went like this:
11:23 hate this
11:04 just get it over with
10:52 only one mile to go; you know you can run three miles, jackass!
11:05 on my way home, praise God
10:28 OK, it's getting dark and scary
9:46 You are going to run under a 10 minute mile tonight.

AND that is the fastest mile I've ever run. Of course it was a slight downhill. But as my good pal a. maria said, when I bragged about it to her in an e-mail:

i don't care if you were on an escalator running down hill... 9:46 is 9:46. no matter which way you slice it...

Outta the mouths of babes!

9:46 is like lightning speed for me ... but I was OK at the end. Not dying! I wonder what it would be like to run that fast all the time.

But I'd have to find that escalator to find out.

(Let's skip a recap of this morning's three-miler, shall we? The running gods were merciless.)

*******

Meanwhile, I've been watching the Tour de France at every spare moment because, I dunno, it's mesmerizing. And let's face it, those guys are cute. But there are so many of them, who can keep track? Plus, I have no idea what the hell is happening. So, herewith, I share this resource with the rest of you who are clueless but captivated:
Tour de France for Dummies.

*******

In still more news, for those who don't already know, our friend Bolder "It's All About the Bike" in Boulder (even though it's really all about the run) has had a bit of a tumble. A big bad tumble. He's OK, but a bit beaten up. Go leave him some comment love!

signed,
Jeanne "9:46"

Endless Summer

What a wild weekend! Number One Daughter and I, after much hemming and hawing and waiting til the very last minute, thereby ensuring that our favorite cheap one-block-from-the-beach bed and breakfast would be full, finally decided to escape from our high-powered negotiating with multinational oil companies, and head for Rehoboth Beach, Del., for the weekend. We ended up in a not-so-clean, over-priced motel which apparently had been smokers' headquarters for the previous century or so. We did not linger.

Exhibit A

We left D.C. at 6 a.m. Saturday morning, and drove straight to the Rehoboth Yoga Center, where we took a 90-minute Svaroopa class, which is about as far from Bikram as you can get. I have actually fallen asleep in this class, it is so soothing and relaxing. This is my kind of exercise!

We checked into the foul-smelling motel, and high-tailed it out of there to the beach. Saturday night we were invited for dinner with our good friends Dan and Bob. Yum. Bob, who is an ex-Marine (ex-some military branch), and a marathoner, said he'd run with me Sunday morning. We met at 7 a.m., and headed to a local trail, which was either 3.6 miles one way, or 3.9 (I'm going with 3.9) depending on which Web site you use. It was beautiful, woodsy, meandering thru marshes and creeks. I had warned Bob that I was slow but he was a Really Good Sport about it! We discussed everything as we ran: relationships, men, men, relationships, men, family, hydration, men. You know, the usual. NOD ran 3.5 miles and waited for us in town. Bob and I ran for 1 1/2 hours, so I either ran really well, or, um, not. But, we had fun!

Blister Update: Better! No blister pain on the 7- or 8- miler! I'm now wearing asic socks, and back to the Nike Pegasus.

Plantar Fasciitis Update: My foot was wrapped for the 7- or 8-miler, and no pain! Wrapping came off later during a romp in the ocean.

Sunday night was fireworks night at Rehoboth. NOD and I hung around the beach and took 1,000 pictures of each other. OK, of me. Still. Fun!

Monday, we headed back to the beach, intending to leave early to get back to town, except I couldn't tear myself away. The water was perfect (well, except for a little problem that the lifeguards told me were "sea lice"; but if you read that article, that's not what they were; whatever they were, they bite and sting like crazy). Otherwise, it was all good.

START RANT: At one point I took a little walk on the beach and was literally astonished at the number of overweight children I saw. It was truly frightening. I was an overweight child, so I know firsthand what it's like. Their parents should be shot and jailed. Or the other way around. No, wait, that's judgmental, isn't it? But really, it makes me sad to think of their futures. Really scary. (Watch "Honey, We're Killing the Kids," a show that scares the bejesus outta me.) END RANT.

We left Rehoboth around 8:30 p.m., arriving back at la petit maison at 11:30, got up at 6:30 a.m. on the fourth for the Potomac Cure Autism Now 5k, which I also ran last July 4.

In a sadly familiar pattern, I waited til the morning of the race to register, thereby costing myself an extra $30 bucks. Sigh. But, this year was special, because NOD ran with me!! NOD ran cross country and track in high school, and let's just say it wasn't her favorite sport.

(This is a hilly course, but it seemed less hilly to me this year than last. Is it possible that I'm fitter??)

It was humid, and hot. Race was slated to start at 8, but didn't til 8:10. The course description read:

The 5K course runs through beautiful shady residential neighborhood streets with a long downhill finish.

Now, I don't want to say that anyone outright lied about the shade, but there was no shade.

This was NOD's first race since high school, and first race with me, so i was very excited. I didn't expect that I would beat my PR of 31:13 set just in April. If I could beat last year's time, I would be very happy.

July 4, 2005: 33:50 (10:53/mile)
July 4, 20052006: 32:41 (10:32/mile)

This year's splits:
10:38
9:57
11:15
.50

(Kinda all over the place, huh? Well, that 9:57, I'm deliriously happy to say, was on an uphill! And it's entirely possible, though I won't swear to it, that I slowed down on the last mile because I was catching up to NOD. And what 19-year-old wants their 49-year old mother beating them?? So, I was either being a saintly mother, or I just got lazy. I don't really know.)

All in all, it was a GREAT fourth of July, and to celebrate, we're listening over there--------->
to a Canadian indie rocker, Allison Crowe.

Enjoy.

Happy Freedom From Tyranny Day!

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, 2006

My version of sex on the beach.

Lessons in gangsta.

Number One Daughter: Looking healthy.

Celebrating the fourth in style: Cure Autism Now Potomac 5K; our first race together!