confession...

Confession coming tomorrow or the next day.

You know what? I can't keep a secret to save my life. Isn't that horrible? But it's true. I can keep a secret if I don't think it's a secret, but if I know it's a secret, like an act of deception, then the guilt simply overtakes my conscience and *boom* secret's out.

I am what I am. At first that statement seems full of arrogance when heard coming from the conscience of another person. But it is actually quite...humbling.

I am what I am. It means that I don't have to pretend, that I don't have to impress anybody.

I am what I am. It means that I am what I am and everyone else is what s/he is but in the end we're just the same and I have to respect those differences.

It means I did my best on my run today.

I did. It was my best. I have to be honest with myself: I gave everything I could.

If I'm not happy with the fact then I need to change it. Period.

But that's not the confession, that's just what it's about: My struggle with the threat of defeat. (Luckily, I'm in good company, my fellow running mommies...)

So maybe tomorrow, but more likely on Monday, I will ramble and drone on about my stupid, below my expectations of myself run today...Monday, when a roast isn't in the oven, the socks don't need matching and whatever else isn't demanding to be done in that precious slot of time before the posse bustles through the door fresh from a Wal-mart run.

You Bars

(oh great and mighty SMR Organizer PLEASE delete this if youd prefer I didnt link!)

I did wanna say that my YouBars arrived since I was semi-snarky in the comments when someone posted about them before.

They took a while (I think 8 weeks? 6? Im old and mamabrained :)) but I love them.

If I did this correctly I think you can click the dots above and see my videorambles about the bars.

(I also read in the video what I added/used to create them as I cant recall here off the top of my fingertips)

Two thumbs up!

On On

Last Friday night
8:15pm - Gathering in the glow of a side street's lamp post, about 20 folks hovered, handing around a clipboard and studying enigmatic icons on the wall. A kitchen timer was set for 13 minutes, entrusted to a guy with a pocket, then activated before two women went scurrying in opposite directions. Dressed in black, saddled with packs & headlamps, the two met up a few blocks away, squatting at every intersection to mark up the ground with chalk. They wove through the hip urban sidewalk cafes, barged past tourists, and disappeared down a Ficus-lined street.

Just beyond the coral church, they unveiled the night's first cache: a keg of beer & cups. Looking at their watches with cups in hand, they were confident in their lead and agreed to slow their pace. They nodded to the late night dog walkers, even chattering & shuffling to appear harmless. Street after street, they laid the course in chalk: real trails with encircled arrows, false trails with frowns and checks backs with encircled plus signs. They ran past haunting old Florida homes with elaborate gardens, and Spring Breakers lost in the labyrinth of side winding avenues. Up ahead, they saw a familiar face...and the second table of supplies propped in a friend's yard: oranges slices, bananas, and more beer. By their 3rd cup, they had miscalculated their lead. In the very near distance, the pounding of 40 feet could be heard. A dozen flashlights could be seen turning the corner, descending on the two like a lynch mob.

For a half mile, the women sprinted, having only enough extra energy to scream once. They clung to their rattling bags and abandoned a fallen headlamp. With hearts pounding, they looked back to notice they were alone again. In order to keep that lead in the last mile, they had to slow the others down. Squatting, one drew a triangle and instructions for the hunters to sing. A little bit down the path, the other drew a triangle and directed them to sit for 60 seconds. The commands continued, back through town, past the singles bars, past the adult kickball league, past the random Spring Breakers handing out jello shots (why, yes, thank you, I would love one!), past the sailing club and the marina.

There they stopped. They wiped the chalk off their clothes, giggled about the adventure, swayed to the cover band on waterfront patio and waited for the hounds to buy them a beer.

Ups & Downs

So, perhaps it is only a momentary reprieve, but I am up and running (literally) again. It is much reduced from the fall, but probably as strong as I could expect at 5 + months pregnant while pushing two 35 lb kids. It may seem counterintuitive, but I am finding that hill workouts are more successful than flat runs.

Given that I have to take walking breaks intermittently anyway, the hills help to keep my heart rate up while I walk. Second, different muscles are utilized in the up vs. down vs. flat so it does not feel like it is tearing things up as much as the repetition of running on flat terrain.

You might feel tempted to avoid hills while running with your stroller, but it is awesome mental training too. Then when you are heading up a hill in a race or just on your own, you can really tell yourself how it could be so much harder….

Most importantly, the kids still get the running-fast downhill-rush which keeps them happy. They’ve been getting fidgeting with this walking thing.

A Cup Of Comfort

Hey Writer Mamas! Just wanted to give you a heads-up. You know your journey to and through motherhood is beautiful, here's your chance to tell it and see your name in print!

Army Ten Miler

Crumbs has thrown the idea out that we (SMR mommies) converge on the Army Ten Miler in October in Virginia. Running around the Pentagon sounds like fun! I am unable to commit right now (with luck, I'll be making a trip to So. Cal. in Nov. Details to follow as necessary ;) ) but it seems like a good goal to aim for. Is there momentum out there for this?

The way I was

Hello Running Mommies:
I'm picking through things and trying to get ready to move. I came across a bunch of pictures that included three taken during the Houston Marathon in 2002. I stared at those pictures a long time. I only had two children then. I lived in Texas then. 9/11 was only a few months earlier. I've had two more children since then. I was 38 years old. I felt strong. I was strong. Did I love my weight or think I was in shape then? No. I have struggled with this whole idea this week as I feel like I'm struggling with body image and weight. I look at those pictures and want to look the same. I'm only 3 lbs off from then, but do not feel that strong. Why do I feel so torn up about caring that I'm not the same. I've grown. I'm growing. I want my daughters to be healthy about mind and body and I need to set the example.