Running Stroller Hell

I think this picture accuratly depicts my run today, except instead of a sausage on a stick M was holding my water bottle and i-pod. I decided that instead of being teathered to the treadmill I should attempt to enjoy the great outdoors. I packed up my little munchkin and dusted off the running stroller. I've only used it 3 times and I quickly was reminded of why it was a waste of my money.


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First of all it's very difficult to explain to a toddler that if mommy goes a mile in one direction mommy has to go a mile in the other direction in order to get home. Mommy can't blink her eyes "I Dream Of Geni" style and be there...no matter how loud you scream on the side of the road....with people looking out their doors and cars slowing to a crawl to make sure a call to 911 is not necessary.

Move along people! Nothing to see here!

As for the stroller itself it's a real pain in the ass to have to hold on to the damn thing. Messes up the rythmn, not to mention what pushing 40 pounds will do for the forearms. Unless there's some secret to pushing the thing without at least one hand keeping it straight to avoid traffic....anyone??

I'm proud to admitt that I showed great restraint to the tune of , "mommy, I wanna go home," sung in high middle C. Playing in traffic was an appealing notion after about 5 minutes of it. I SMOKED that last quarter mile just so she'd shut up!

I think the running stroller will be reserved for runs at the park. The car in the parking lot makes for a quicker get away rather than hoofing it all the way home.

Someone please remind me why I do this to myself again....ooo ya, I'm super fat still and I don't want to be anymore yadda, yadda, yadda.

Learning To Let Go

After a full day of yard work I suited up to vaccum the pool.

I've never been able to swim a day in my life and I didn't want the same for our kids so we recently purchased a pool. It was a big leap on my part because though Ryan and J can swim like fish M and I can't.

M has been getting in there with her little floaties and kicking and doing fantasitic. It's a far cry from a couple of weeks ago when she didn't even want to get in the water. Of course we're still going to do lessons but getting her over the fear so she can get something out of them is half the battle.

The first day I got into the pool with Ryan he tried to show me the basics. His words still ring fresh in my ears, "Just let go, everyone floats, you just have to relax."

Relax?? Me?? HA!! That's funny.

After about 10 minutes my frustrated husband, who's patience could fit in a thimble, found trying to catch a glimpse of my boobs without the kidlets seeing more fun than teaching me how to swim. So that was that and I was destined to be attached to a pool noodle for the rest of my life. Too bad floaties don't come in adult.


So I'm in the pool today doing the vaccuming with J's snorkle gear because I've learned it's much easier to vaccum when you can see the bottom of the pool. I find myself struggling to stay under the water. I do my chore and think...OK I'm in the pool by myself without a 3 year old trying to climb on me so let's see what I can do.

As I lay on my back I remember what Ryan said, " Tilt your head so that the biggest part of your head is in the water." HA! OK I'm floating but I legs hang and my feet want to touch bottem.

I then remember this episode of "America's Next Top Model" and they're doing a photo shoot in a pool with the models floating. They were supposed to look like Water Fairies or somthing. One of the models didn't know how to float and I could hear Tyra in the back of my head telling her, "Just arch your back and relax. Don't forget to elongate the neck." Ok, so that second part was for the modeling not floating LOL

Holy Shit!!! I'm floating!

Let me see what happens if I move my arms and legs.....OK, still above water...still moving the limbs...still above water!! ...hitting head on the side of pool because I've swam, YES SWAM to the side!!

Shit, shit, shit!!

10 minutes later, I'm still floating AND swimming from one end of the pool across and back....on my back.

I then decide to get a little more courageous and downed the snorkle gear once again. I switch to my stomach and YES!! I can float that way too!! Though certainly not pretty, I can get across the pool. I've floundered across the pool a couple of times before in this manner but it's much easier to let yourself "float" and propel yourself rather than using your arms and legs to try to stay up....durf! I get it now!

I can't wait for Ryan to get home from work so I can show him what I've learned to do. I suppose I could all along, I just had to learn how to let go.

High School Reunions

My 15 year is tonight. My BFF has been BEGGING me for weeks now to go. I've come up with a long laundry list of reasons why I can't but the simplest one is....I just don't want to.

Ryan isn't home and I'd have to go as the third wheel instead of a double date. My mother is sick and I don't want to ask her to baby sit, though she would. I would only be there to hang out with the people I liked enough to stay friends with and I hang out with her all the time anyway...... Though there is this one guy that I'd love to hang with but I don't know if the Pres. allowed him leave to make it. Yes, John L, I'm talking about you.

Most importanty it doesn't represent a happy, simpler time for me. It sucked, badly. I was never a good student and I was a year behind my actual "class" so all my friends that I had had since kindergarten had graduated the year before. When I failed I didn't care about failing....didn't care about much of anything.

If there had been Emo when I was a teenager, that would have been me...on the inside. On the outside I was perfectly dressed without a hair out of place and my make up was perfect unless I fell asleep in class and I smugged my mascara.

I'll never forget when the football star, who was failing just as badly as I was, tried to cheat off of me in Geometry. I never laughed so hard before in my life. I had to thank him for putting a smile on my face for once in my 5....yes 5 years of High School. It wasn't until that last year that my failing hurt. All my friends were gone except my now BFF. I was just, blah. I didn't go to Homecoming, didn't go to Prom. It DID give me one extra try at All-State Choir though but that wasn't quit enough consolation.

About the only good thing that happened that year was meeting Ryan. I actually met him at my grandparent's because I wasn't allowed out of the house. I was on lock down for packing up my things on my 18th birthday and moving out, under LOTS of protest from my mother. Yeah, I'd call dragging me back to the house by the hair from my spot on the corner where I waited for my friend to pick me up.... a little...um hostile.

I still snuck away though. It was sweet! While my mother was at the driver's window telling my friend to just go home I snuck around the back and climbed into the passenger side and told her," just drive." We were so "Thelma and Louise," with her baby in the back set sleeping.

I think I was the only legal adult that had to run away from home. I went back about three months later when I got hungry. Turns out my friend who was living on her own , on wellfare, with her daughter couldn't make it after her mother, who was an old friend of my mom's, cut her off for taking me in. Even my measly pay check I earned for frying up chicken at Popeye's, couldn't compare to her "allowance" that had been put on hold. I was about to get fired anyway for not being able to tell the difference between a breast and a thigh after two months. I really was a pampered princess and didn't know it. Lock down was good, it was better than the street.

So while everyone was shopping for Prom dresses I was shopping for wedding dresses. Ryan still teases me that I married him only to get out of my parent's house. There MAY have been a very TINY bit of truth to that but the happiness he brought to me outshined my need to be rescued from the dungeon. The fact that my mother hated him and he looked like James Hetfield from Metallica was a plus too.

The class vice-president...or was she the secretary??. I don't remember.

She's e-mailed me twice to see if I'm going and I have a good feeling it's only because they're mentally counting the money that they'll recoupe for the next shin dig. It CERTAINLY is not because I was that popular with the "head of the class" peeps who are in charge of this thing.

I'm just at the point in my life where I'm learning to walk away from my past and live for today. I finally feel "light" for once.

Maybe in another five years I'll be ready for the big 20 but for now, I think staying home with the sprouts and goofing off in the pool after running my last set of 4/1 intervals will be much more fun and fulfilling.

M has taken to wearing every stitch of clothing she owns in one given day. She's been struggling to get into a pair of winter PJ's, that are her favorite, for about an hour now. The zipper was stuck and even I couldn't get them undone.

She just brought them to me, zipper fully fuctional and when I asked, "How'd you do that?" She put her hands on her three year old hips, poked out her chest and said, "muscles, mommy!"

Yup, much more fun than a reunion filled with memories of a life I'd rather forget....

Focus....

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It's what I kept telling myself as I watched the clock on my treadmill tick away the last of my run 4 of my intervals this morning.

Focus on the music blaring from the i-pod. Focus on your breathing. Focus on the racing number of your first and only 5K attempt...ok, maybe don't focus on that. Focus on anything except the stupid clock! What's 4 minutes of your life anyway, right? RUN YOU PISSY LITTLE BITCH!

Sorry, I'm sometimes brutal on myself when I'm attempting to talk myself out of quiting. Maybe I should make a list and hang it where that stupid number is to refer to in my moments of weakness. Here goes nothing!

Why I Run by:me

~ I run because I'm still super fat and I don't want to be anymore.

~ I run because I don't want to take the same path of family related diabetes, arthritis, knee replacement, heart disease and most importantly I don't want to be dead when I have way more life in my heart than what I have left in my body.

~ I run because I LOVE the sound of my 3 year old daughter's voice when she yells," mommy! you running?!" Though my first 5K sucked the sound of her voice as I crossed the finish line made me feel like a winner.

~ I run because I LOVE the sound of pride in my son's voice when he tells his friends, "my mom runs," or when he says, "mom, can I go run with you?"

~ I run because I LOVE the way the first 10-15 minutes feel, I just wish the last 10-15 felt as great.

~ I run because I can. 50 pounds ago I found it difficult to walk, carry my daughter, hold my head up high.....

~ I run because I WILL make it to 20, 30 and who knows how long without QUITING!


OK, I think I'm focused now....

There you are!!

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I knew I'd find my GAD (Give a Damn) for my WLJ (Weight Lose Journey) somewhere! It's time to get back to the basics. It's not gonna happen all by itself for sure. Cleaning out the pantry then making a list and checking it twice.....Santa's not commin to town but I still need to get rid of the cookies anyway. *sob*

Life Lessons 101, Tae Kwan Do Style

When I first started Tae Kwan Do I was a meek and insecure little creature. I was afraid to say the Korean words wrong so I allowed everyone else to let out their warrior cries while I stood in the last row and "made believe "I was a martial artist. I said the words in my head but not with my mouth OR my heart. Want to know what that earned me? Push ups and lot's of em!

Why in the heck did I never think of taking Tae Kwan Do when I was working. I could have really put my new mentality to the test then.

Physical discomfort wills you to a place you never thought you'd go. It'll make you yell like a mad man, or wo-man, who's ready to reach out and steal away the courage of another. Before long you actually believe that you can and soon thereafter you KNOW you can and it's a feeling that can't be discribed.

Come on people!! It's a simple word....TAI!! Turns out it's easier to say than it is to spell.

My mind is reeling as I drop for a second set of 20. I've learned the valuable lesson of speaking up for myself but no one has ever quit explained it to me this way before. Everyone suffers right along with you for the missing voice of one. Whether it be the person doing push ups next to you or the people you've rubbed shoulders and bumped heads with for years in a place you thought was home.

Man, that SUCKED! I do NOT want to do that again! I must have REALLY pissed some people off before I found my warrier. What is wrong with him?! Does he not believe in AC?! I now know why all the black belts run to line up...they've been around long enough to score a spot by the fan!

I'll also have to remember to have a long talk with J about holding the kick pad properly because my death stares are doing no good. How the heck am I supposed to throw everything I've got into a back kick if I can't trust he'll be there with the pad!?

Even after having my heart broken by someone I greatly admired, which landed me a new career as a novice, I can't help but throw myself into everything with all the trust I have in my entire being. It's part of me and no knife can cut it away... but a hyper extended knee can, which is what happened a couple of kicks ago when the pad wasn't where it was supposed to be.

"Hold the pad right," I say through clenched teeth.

I just wanna smack him as he looks at me with those big doe eyes with the silent,"what ?" screaming from eyes filled with tears about to spill over. I don't know where the heck he get's that super sensitive shit from. Ok, now that's just funny right there. He is definantly his mother's son.

"Hold it a little tighter and slightly out son," I say as I soften my tone.

Besides, my technique isn't quit right so I'm sure that the knee thing was partially my fault....maybe.

"JUN BEE!" screams my warrior instructor.

(translation: "READY STANCE!")

I gather everything I have from deep within my tired and sweety body, while mentally willing the kid next to me to do the same because I am SO kicking his ass when we spar if I have to do another 2o.

"TAI!"

Why not?

Is what I thought when deciding to start a blog. I've a laundry list of "new" in my life at the moment, why not add blogging to the list?

I'm a new SAHM. Not a new mom by any stretch of the word but new to being home with the kidlets. I always had a black and white "June Cleaver" image of my mother pop into my head at the thought of being unemployeed. I'm doing my best to wipe the thought from my head as I fill my life with TONS of things my mother would have never done.

I kept busy with work and a million and one things on my "to do" list until I felt like I was drowning. My wonderful husband held this offer out on a silver plater to me....He said, "You don't HAVE to work, You don't HAVE to stay home either but you DO have to be happy."

So here I am, making that happen by being a SAHM to our 3 year old daughter, something I didn't have a chance to do with our 11 year old son.

I've discovered so far that I love gardening. It's quit theraputic and one thing that I don't mind having in commen with my mother. It helps me to understand her a little better and it also gives us something to talk about.

I started taking Tae Kwan Do with my darling young man....we'll call him J. He's now a black tip while I'm a "novice" white belt, soon to be yellow tip. For years I've watched a mother and son duo, who are now both black belts, wishing that I could do that until one day I said ,"why not?"

I've also discovered a love/hate relationship with running that always seems to be on rocky ground. I take 2 steps forward only to take 3 back when I get lazy. I want to be a runner so bad that I can invision myself in awesome shape and doing races on a whime, like most of my runner friends....then I wake up and I'm strapped to my treadmill waiting for my interval to be over so I can walk for a minute.

I'm running late for a Tae Kwan Do torture session. I mean, class *grin*

I tell you no lies when I say our instructor makes Jillian Michaels from ,"The Biggest Loser," look like a softy. The man is a drill sergeant and if I'm late I'll surely have to run extra laps. Can't let THAT happen, wouldn't want the ol treadmill getting jealous.