Freedom!

I missed posting Monday.  I ran, I gasped, I conquered.  We are now running for distance and time, so it is a slog each day we run.  Typically the midweek evening runs are the hardest and tonight was no exception.  We were about half way in the run when I rolled my ankle.  Not badly but, golly!, it hurts: ankles were not supposed to go sideways.

Still, that is not my big news this time around.  Oh no!  Dear Husband and I had finished our five minute opening walk I had gotten three steps in the actual jog when the girls got loose.  The jogging bra had unzipped itself and whee!  They may take our underwires, but they will never take our FREEDOM!!!

Of course it was really difficult getting the zipper up discretely.  Then I kept checking it all through the run sure that the zipper was sliding down.  It wasn't but I couldn't find a rhythm.  Then I rolled my ankle.  Sigh.

The Same Every Verse

It was not an ideal run tonight.  I couldn't find my windbreaker and I didn't want my red hoodie to get wet from the rain so I bagged it and just went without.  This had the added factor of not having an easy place to squirrel away my extra headphone cordage.  It was bouncing around all the way down the road.  Plus, and I know I am being vain here to think anyone notices or cares, but my arms were out and I was thinking about the extra jiggle out in front of the world. Why anyone would care how toned my arms were after being blinded by the whiteness of my legs, I'm not sure.  Being honest here, it crossed my mind more than once.

The Dear Husband had nearly no enthusiasm for the run tonight either.  This is bad.  I could on his single minded tenacity to pull me out the door and down the road.  I have birthday cake in my fridge still.  It knows my name and calls to me hourly.  I put in my iPod to drown out the sound of birthday cake and the song that most encapsulated this whole running experience played.  It is from the kid music section of my discography.
There is a marvelous composer, Richard Perlmutter, who has added hilarious lyrics to little bits of classical music.  His albums, the Beethoven's Wig series, are so fun.  This time the song he wrote to Edvard Grieg's Hall of the Mountain King seemed apropos.  Here is the music I'm sure you'll recognize it:

Birthday Cake

It was Girl Child Segundus' birthday Saturday and her party on Sunday, and I had not one, but two pieces of birthday cake to run off today.  Birthday cake is my vice.  Oh and coffee.  OK, I read a lot of genre books and very few improving ones. But those three are all complimentary, it's hard to not want to enjoy all three at once.

I have a new accountability partner.   I invited Soul Sister to run on Mondays with Dear Husband.  I assured her that even though she is beginning her couch to 5K, she would be no problem keeping up because I run at a snail's pace.  This turned out to be true.  We began our 5K loop from Jacobs to Terry to Ft. Casey.  Dear Husband took off down the road as he always does; Soul Sister and I motivated down the road at a slower pace.  Finally, she hit a running portion of her program.  She bounded ahead with a long bouncy stride.  Uh oh.  I kept my pokey pace and caught up on her walk portion.  We tortoised and hared it all the way to Ft. Casey.

As we rounded past the Engle Farm the program timed out.  The sound of lowing cows filled the air and the scent of freshly manured fields filled out nostrils.  But hey!  It was sunny and the run was over.  We walked the rest of the way talking and laughing.  How wonderful.

Donde estas, Yolanda?

Que Paso, Yolanda

I gotta put more of Pink Martini's Sympathique in my running mix.  I'm always hunting for a good uptempo song to run to and I remembered this is fun dishwasher dancing music.  You know, the songs that make you dance in your kitchen while you empty the dishwasher - I know I'm not alone in doing this.  It has the added benefit of embarrassing 11 year old boys. If you can't move yourself to rumba music what can you move yourself too?

Te Busque, Yolanda

I found My iPod today!  It had been missing since December and I was using Helen's iPod shuffle this whole time.  I checked a purse I had checked at least 5 times before and lo and behold there it was happy and bemused that I had been looking for it this whole time.  "What me? I am not the iPod you want to take running! I have no clip - you might have to stick me somewhere where I'll get sweaty - no thanks!" I used it. It got sweaty.

Y No Estas, Yolanda

The rest of our program is less about run time as it is distance.  Two more 25 minute sessions then 28 minutes from here on out.  We are now running about 3K although we have done the 5K loop once.  Since I found my "sweet spot",  I thought I'd try and trick my body into thinking I was dropping to a walk but not actually doing it.  I started out with a faster pace and at 10 minutes dropped to my normal running -  slow creep forward - then kicked it up to the faster pace again after 3 minutes.  This worked pretty well into the second half of the run when I spat out my gum thinking that I was done needing it.  I immediate started choking on nothing.  It was a tough recovery after that.  I had Yolanda kick up on the playlist right as I got my rhythm back and finished the last 3 minutes to that rumba beat, complete with hand gestures.  I'd have had the children running away in shamed embarrassment.  As it was the dog gave me funny looks.  Well, I was pretty sure I looked like Carmen Miranda, if Carmen Miranda was overweight and fish belly white legs.

Check In

I am so happy that it is not raining. It was supposed to be raining but instead it is somewhat sunny with heavy clouds on the horizon. This is a good thing as I was not eager to run 25 minutes in the rain. That's right. 25 whole minutes of constant running versus just constant motion.

I don't even really want to write this I am so tired. I didn't actually feel so tired until I sat down. I wish I had something fun to say. Mostly I just missed the 3 minute walk in the middle of the run.

That kitten, I know just how it feels.

Secret Handshake

Secrets Revealed!!

I have stuck with this running thing long enough that I may have wormed my way into the secret circle of genuine exercise enthusiasts. I know some of them read this blog, and after all my moaning one of them threw me a tip. Turns out gum helps with that horrible saliva filled dry mouth. I snagged a stick of Girl Child Prima's wacky watermelon and tore it in half. One: because I am cheap and figure if it works I can make a pack of gum last longer (Yes! I am that cheap! Don't you envy my Husband and Kids now?) Two: I was not entirely convinced I wouldn't choke on it and fall writhing to the ground, so a smaller piece seemed in order. It worked. Holey Cannoli! I may learn the secret handshake next and glean the no more wedgie secret - it better not be a thong.

Sweet Spot

I figured out my sweet spot running. (If sweet spot means I don't heave and gasp, my legs only moderately burn, and I feel a righteous glow afterwards instead of clammy shakes.) Run for 8+ minutes, short walk, run for 8+ minutes. I need the walking but the running is long enough that I find a good steady pace long enough my inner critic has to take a breath. True, my real sweet spot is in Krispy Kreme but they closed down the one in Mount Vernon and now I have no place to get a blueberry glazed. There is no justice.

Dogged

I stayed close enough to Dear Husband today that I surprised him. I even was running ahead of him for a while that did not include the point where he turns around before I do. Then the Dog cut in front of me and I lost the faster pace. I am not sure how much longer I could have held it anyway, but I am blaming the Dog. It's one of the reasons you get a dog: that, eating sandwich corners, and barking at TV doorbells so you can laugh.

Playlist: God Be Merciful to Me - Jars of Clay, Come to the Cross, Healing Rain, Deep in Love with You - Michael W Smith, Suitcases - Dara Maclean, God Almighty - Chris Tomlin, Open Up the Sky - Deluge, Still Alive - Jonathan Colton

Tony Award

Sports Day in the Sinclair House

Wow. Never thought I'd say that. The Boy had baseball down in South Whidbey. The Girl Child Prima had a double header in soccer in Oak Harbor. Dear Husband and I began the next stage in the Running: First Blood the Opera: based on the stage play adapted from the novella by Stephen King. Girl Child Segundus got off scot free to jump endlessly on her cousin's trampoline. Boy Child was walked and stole home in his game. Girl Child found her skill set as a kick butt goalie, body checking the ball hard at least four times in the second half of the game two.

Fail

We set out for our run in the warm sun and the soft breeze of the late afternoon. I reached to turn on my iPod and got: nothing. I checked to make sure I turned it on. Yup. In the words of my Grandma Nelda: "Oh for Pete's sake!" I turned to Dear Husband: "I need a 1/2 hour." There was No Way I could run without music. Be alone with my thoughts? Heaven forfend! I'd need to hire extra help at the complaint desk.

1/2 Hour Later

How can your mouth be both filled with saliva and dry at the same time? Wasn't that the plague of Egypt right after frogs and flies? (Dad I'm not serious! Breathe deeply. Inaccuracy can be funny!) I started to fantasize about pitchers of ice cold lemonade, sweet tea, and various combinations of the two. I pictured myself like those marathoners grabbing little cups of water. Wished I was a kid bicycling through sprinklers again.