Week 7 – Birds Fly South

Week 7 – 9 miles. (I posted this as week 8 before and now I’m bummed that I thought I was a week ahead!)

Technically last week was supposed to be 9 miles and this week 14, but since I ran the race last week I cheated a little and swapped them.

The following comment should probably be filed under “only things crazy runners would say” but, at 9 miles it was nice to have a shorter run this week.

I think last night must have been the coldest night we’ve had so far this fall, because it was quite chilly this morning. If you’re reading this and happen to live in the North, you’re probably thinking HA!, and, being from Ohio, it admittedly wasn’t THAT cold. BUT, my windows had frosted over, so it totally counts.

So today’s picture is brought to you by “dang its chilly” (just wait till December)

Actually it looks a bit more like we are getting ready to rob something. Hey, whatever.

So we started our run and partway through Lynnsey’s neighborhood we see a big group of ducks. Hey ducks! Quack! Those are cool! And then I actually say ” Hey don’t ducks fly south for the win – oh, wait – we ARE the south.”

Also one thing to note per poor Lynnsey’s mid run pit stop – Mexican food the night before a long run is not a good idea.

Other than that, another week down and we’re almost halfway there.

I stopped at the grocery store on the way home and the cashier asked me if I was cold in my shorts. Duh. Asking me if I’m cold in my shorts when its 40 something is like asking a person who is half asleep if they are tired, or like asking me if I would like some candy.

Duh. Yes I want candy, and yes I’m cold in shorts right now.

If I were a bird I would totally fly south for the winter in my shorts.

Date Night

Not a planned one.

Yesterday early morning Bryan went for a run. As I was leaving for work I found him laying on the kitchen floor complaining about back pain that got no better by the time I got home that evening. Oddly enough, I was given an ultimatum – go to Sams Club (he apparently thought he could walk it off), or drive him to the hospital. So we had an unplanned Date Night – to the VA hospital ER.

We got there, checked in, and I was told to wheel him upstairs to x-ray. Immediately upon arrival, Bryan blurts out “she tried to kill me”. Actually I’m pretty sure he said that to the nurse who checked him in, also.

Nice babe.

After that we wheel back down and are placed in this room that looks alot more like one that belongs in a psych ward than an ER. The bed was basically heavily reinforced plastic with a foam pad on it. And the door totally locked from the outside but not the inside. It also had one small rectangular window that my hair stuck to when I leaned against it. In hindsight I’m totally kicking myself for not taking a few pictures because it really would have supplemented the description.
A picture from last weeks’ race that seems to work well for a “why didn’t I take any pictures?!?” facial expression

We entertain ourselves by watching a documentary on dogs on Netflix on my iphone. Over an hour later, the doc finally comes in, decides he was having muscle spasms and goes off to write a script for muscle relaxers and pain killers. Bryan is apparently a better doctor because he asks for some anti inflammatory shot he got the last time this happened (this happened before?) and thirty minutes later he felt much better, we had a script and were off.

On the way out, I asked the nurse if they had a pain in the ass pill, but sadly, they didn’t.

Bryan says hes not going to take the painkillers.

On the way home we stop at Ruby Tuesday for the salad bar. I should have known he had taken the pills when we walked in because he declared to the host “Do you have a veterans discount? I just came from the ER!” and proudly displayed his hospital bracelet. He is also becoming noticably more giggly and “lovey”, for lack of a better word. I think he is starting to feel somewhat like this: (taken from my favorite shirt ever…..which makes me a total nerd)

It seemed to work though because we got a 25% off coupon. (yay insanity!)

Ironically, the evening was much more enjoyable than I ever thought a trip to the ER would have been, and certainly more memorable. Especially the part where he declared his undying love for me while slightly high on painkillers.

Isn’t it romantic?

An Ode to Patience

Patience is a virtue…….that I do not possess.

And I HATE being told to be patient. Which I suppose is the first sign that I am impatient.

I’ll defend my “patience” to the end, of course. Though in my defense (see, here I go already), I’ve always known I wanted kids. I started really getting that feeling somewhere in 2008, but was just not in a situation to make that happen. When I met Bryan and finally felt really confident that this was the guy I wanted to build a family with, I was really ready.

So I consider the fact that I’ve made it through 2008- now with most of half of my sanity intact to be super patient.

How does a person just become more patient anyway? Is there a how to book I can read?  Can I just buy it at the store next to the peanut butter? Oh! Or better yet, if it game in a bottle of Pino Grigio! (I’d personally prefer Reisling, but that doesn’t start with a P). Is there a 12 step program I can become a part of?* Or a support group?

HI! My name is Theresa and I’m a NotPatientaholic Impatientaholic!

Actually there might be a benefit in having a buddy to call when my mind gets the better of me.

In all seriousness though, I’ve pretty much ignored anyone who has told me to be patient, including Bryan. But last night during one of my various freak outs, he pointed out that he was excited about the fact that he was getting these shots and I didn’t seem to really care at all. And it occurred to be then that I had pretty much jumped from the news that he was getting them to: “ohmygodthisisn’tgoingtoworksoIneedtostarthoardingmoneybutwecan’trightnowsotheworldisending!” in a matter of a few days. (ok not that extreme, but you get the point).

But he has a point. I’ve totally put out of my mind that the poor man is injecting himself 3x a week so that we have a shot to have our own children and I’m already freaking out that its not working (there is no proof of this, of course), because I want it and I want it like now, darn it. I don’t honestly know how I’m going to learn more patience yet so until then, patience, an ode to you: (in an ABAB format)

Somewhere inside me is more patience

Someone more relaxed and more nonchalant

I’m happy to become more patient

Just as soon as I get what I want

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*No offense at all meant to anyone who has done a 12 step program

Another cycle, another unwanted visitor

Vent warning. I wasn’t even going to post this, because I feel like I come off all complain-y. But its my blog so whatever.

It just goes to show you how a temperature on a thermometer has the potential to rule one’s mood. I’m happy to go into more detail for anyone who is interested, but for now here’s the short but sweet version. I take my temperature every morning to track ovulation. My before ovulation temperatures are about 97.2, afterwards about 97.7. The time between ovulation and the visitor is usually about 14 days for me so I start to watch for the dreaded temperature drop that means the visitor is coming.

I got that drop this morning. Which means I’m out for this month. Again.

You’d think that I’d start to expect it but I don’t. I mean I do logically but emotionally I hope. And I guess hope is good but its saddening when its false. And every month it gets a little worse. The first couple of days are always the worst. Sometimes I’m just sad. Sometimes I’m a little angry at the world, sometimes I don’t want to be anywhere near anyone who is pregnant. Sometimes its all three. Sometimes I’m ok. It dies down, it always does, but it doesn’t make those few days suck any less.

The best way I can think to describe it is to have someone or something dangling the very thing you’ve wanted your whole life in front of you, and then watching it disappear. It starts to effect other areas in your life, too. Planned “BD’ing”, as it were, gets old. Peeing on sticks gets old. Waking up at 6am on Saturday to stick a thermometer in your mouth gets old. Your husband watching you sad as a mom with a baby walks by gets old. Worrying about where the money is going to come from for the expensive procedure we may need to have a baby gets old. It gets to a point where you can’t truly relax about it, because once you know enough about your cycle, you’ll unconsciously plan anyway. (Also happens if you’re a Type A personality – what? don’t look at me!)

While the majority of the time I truly do believe my time will come and that it will all make sense in the end, for the first couple days of each cycle, well, the logical part of my brain shuts off a bit. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as though I feel I have nothing to be thankful for. I am glad that I have things to keep me busy and sane (read: Run It Out) and a husband who has been so supportive through my craziness.

But I would just really like it to be my turn.

 

Myrtle Beach Mini Marathon

Saturday

One of the reasons we had decided to go mini golfing while we were here was that the courses appeared to be much cooler than those at home.

They aren’t. They are just as lame. However, they do have some fun decorations

Sitting on a giant octopus

Aaaah! A shark!!

So there was that. Plus, I won.

We spent the rest of the day walking around Broadway at the Beach and eating at The Giant Crab, a ridiculously huge seafood buffet with an old running buddy as well as a friend of hers and her mother.

When we got back I laid out my clothes for the race:

I’m so not usually this coordinated. I wanted to wear my “I don’t go all the way” shirt for good luck, and while picking up my packet I bought the above pair of shorts and decided to try some Jelly Belly Sport Beans for this race. Typically I haven’t bothered with them for a half marathon but since I tend to hit a wall around mile 8 I decided to give it a go this time.

Zzzzzzzz

Sunday/Race Day

5:15am comes very early, by the way. In case you were wondering. Bryan drove me to my friends hotel and I rode with them to the start line. Pre-race entertainment included a staged knight fight on horses courtesy of the Midevil Times actors. I’d seen it last year and couldn’t see over all the people anyway, so whatever. I was sad at first because I wanted to be able to bring my phone to photo document some, but it turns out I didn’t miss anything anyway.

And we’re off.

The course itself is actually pretty boring. The scenic part comes at the end. Where last year I was so excited to be almost done that the scenery could have been a garbage pile and, aside from the smell, I wouldn’t have cared.

I was only a bit behind the 8:00 mile pace balloon to start off, so I decided that if I could at least keep the balloon in my sights I’d be guaranteed to finish under 1:50. While my ultimate goal is 1:45, my current PR is 1:53 and some change so I thought I’d take it step by stap.

Strangely, I felt pretty good for 90% of the race. I started to get tight leg muscles at mile 5 but luckily it never got worse. I hit a small wall at each mile between 6-10 but nothing that was too hard to get over. I cursed myself initially for not thinking my playlist through bc I had slower songs playing in the middle, where I’m usually more tired. I ate a sport bean at mile 3, 5, and then each mile from 6 to 12.

I lost the 8:00/mile pace balloon somewhere around mile 10. Boo.

Turns out my music mixing skills are cooler than I thought, bc my playlist picked back up around mile 11. Heck yeah.

It was when I hit mile 12 at 1:38 that I realized, holy cow, I could totally finish this thing in 1:45.

So I picked it up.

Then I realized I was going too fast. So I slowed down.

Then I got a “your lungs have too much carbon dioxide right now” cramp. Nice.

And again, here we are on the boardwalk of the beach with a beautiful view, and all I cared about was the finish line. Bring on the garbage pile! I just want the end!

I am a robot. Bryan told me to “strike a pose”.

This is my creativity as its best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, I crossed the finish line at 1:45:20. Darn you cramp. But who cares because I just beat my old PR by almost 10 minutes. As always, I was so happy to be done that I forgot to turn my watch off when I got across the finish line, so still unsure about “official” chip time.

WOO HOO!

I’m totally going to stuff my face with pancakes now, and take a nap.

Myrtle Beach Mini Marathon

Saturday

One of the reasons we had decided to go mini golfing while we were here was that the courses appeared to be much cooler than those at home.

They aren’t. They are just as lame. However, they do have some fun decorations

Sitting on a giant octopus

Aaaah! A shark!!

So there was that. Plus, I won.

We spent the rest of the day walking around Broadway at the Beach and eating at The Giant Crab, a ridiculously huge seafood buffet with an old running buddy as well as a friend of hers and her mother.

When we got back I laid out my clothes for the race:

I’m so not usually this coordinated. I wanted to wear my “I don’t go all the way” shirt for good luck, and while picking up my packet I bought the above pair of shorts and decided to try some Jelly Belly Sport Beans for this race. Typically I haven’t bothered with them for a half marathon but since I tend to hit a wall around mile 8 I decided to give it a go this time.

Zzzzzzzz

Sunday/Race Day

5:15am comes very early, by the way. In case you were wondering. Bryan drove me to my friends hotel and I rode with them to the start line. Pre-race entertainment included a staged knight fight on horses courtesy of the Midevil Times actors. I’d seen it last year and couldn’t see over all the people anyway, so whatever. I was sad at first because I wanted to be able to bring my phone to photo document some, but it turns out I didn’t miss anything anyway.

And we’re off.

The course itself is actually pretty boring. The scenic part comes at the end. Where last year I was so excited to be almost done that the scenery could have been a garbage pile and, aside from the smell, I wouldn’t have cared.

I was only a bit behind the 8:00 mile pace balloon to start off, so I decided that if I could at least keep the balloon in my sights I’d be guaranteed to finish under 1:50. While my ultimate goal is 1:45, my current PR is 1:53 and some change so I thought I’d take it step by stap.

Strangely, I felt pretty good for 90% of the race. I started to get tight leg muscles at mile 5 but luckily it never got worse. I hit a small wall at each mile between 6-10 but nothing that was too hard to get over. I cursed myself initially for not thinking my playlist through bc I had slower songs playing in the middle, where I’m usually more tired. I ate a sport bean at mile 3, 5, and then each mile from 6 to 12.

I lost the 8:00/mile pace balloon somewhere around mile 10. Boo.

Turns out my music mixing skills are cooler than I thought, bc my playlist picked back up around mile 11. Heck yeah.

It was when I hit mile 12 at 1:38 that I realized, holy cow, I could totally finish this thing in 1:45.

So I picked it up.

Then I realized I was going too fast. So I slowed down.

Then I got a “your lungs have too much carbon dioxide right now” cramp. Nice.

And again, here we are on the boardwalk of the beach with a beautiful view, and all I cared about was the finish line. Bring on the garbage pile! I just want the end!

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am a robot.                                                                                         Bryan told me to “strike a pose”.

This is my creativity as its best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, I crossed the finish line at 1:45:20. Darn you cramp. But who cares because I just beat my old PR by almost 10 minutes. As always, I was so happy to be done that I forgot to turn my watch off when I got across the finish line, so still unsure about “official” chip time.

 

WOO HOO!

I’m totally going to stuff my face with pancakes now, and take a nap.

Mini Vacation

As part of the separation of a previous relationship, I ended up with a timeshare.

Even with it, I still generally find them to be ridiculously overpriced and, for me, not really worth the money. Still, it situations like this, they are nice to have.

Tomorrow I’m running in the Myrtle Beach Mini Marathon. I ran this last year, and with like 4 different timeshare locations here its silly not to make a long weekend out of it. So, we’re staying in a “2 bedroom marsh view”. Descriptions are a bit misleading – its alot like last years “one bedroom ocean view”, where, in order to view the ocean you had to plaster your face against the bedroom window to see it. This is our “marsh view”

Technically you can see the marsh between the houses, so I guess it counts.

The room is really pretty nice actually:

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if you look out the extra bedroom window, you can kinda see the beach: (does this mean we are also a beach view?)

I was taking the picture through a window, so sorry for the poor quality.

At any rate, one thing I dislike about timeshares is that they are constantly trying to get you to buy more points to stay in more of their wonderful resorts. Right. I may have to spend 14k on an IVF, so yes, please sign me up for more of your ridiculously overpriced points. They called me twice before we got here and once right after we checked in….at 9pm, to ask me if I wanted to go to an owners meeting.

NO. I. DO. NOT. WANT. ANY. MORE. POINTS!

What I thought in my brain when she called at 9pm was “Seriously lady, we just got here, and you’re calling me at 9pm to set up a bleeping owners meeting?” *click*

What I actually said (proof that I do at times have a thought to mouth filter) was “actually we are just getting ready to walk out the door” (not a lie).

The other funny thing about hotels is that they all seem to have been decorated in the 80′s and 90′s. I really want to know who picks the bedspreads and curtains to match the ridiculously patterned carpets. Then I knew for sure this place was decorated several years ago when I saw this masterpiece:

That, my friends, is a CD/cassette player.

Is it bad that upon seeing this, I immediately began to sing Ace of Base songs in my head? (I saw the sign!)

Or that now, there are definitely people (kids) out there who would look at this and go “what’s a cassette player?”

Ugh.

I also found this rather amusing:

I guess DUI’s are popular in Myrtle Beach?

So the plan today is to pick up my race packet, go mini golfing (yes, we are nerds), met another friend for dinner tonight and, for me, attempt to enjoy the weekend and not worry about things like work or our general inability to reproduce. (The end of a cycle is looming near…..cue haunted house type music)

At that, after reminiscing about my childhood cassette tape days, I leave you with this:

Hysterical.

Happy Birth….man I forgot AGAIN!

You know, the problem isn’t that I forget birthdays.

The problem is that I remember them too early.

Bear with me, here. I am, admittedly, horrible at remembering birthdays on time. What seems to happen is that about 3 weeks from said birthday I think to myself “self, your mom’s birthday is in three weeks” and I reply to myself “self – well its still a bit early for a card, but perhaps I should write it on the calendar”

And then I forget.

So I’m at dinner with my friend today and a text comes through on my phone from my sister:

See? I’m not the only one (sorry for throwing you under the bus sis….haha)

Believe this or not, Food Lion has some pretty funny cards.

After stopping at the store for the card I called and got her voicemail. I was going to just leave the traditional message, but instead hung up and decided to get creative. Then a couple minutes later I called back and left this cool birthday song: (sung to the tune of “Happy Birthday”)

Happy Birthday to You

Bet you thought I Forgot you

Good thing Natalie texted me an hour ago!

Happy Birthday to you!

Your card is in the mail…….tomorrow……

Run It Out

Ugh. I woke up in a BAD MOOD this morning.

People ask me sometimes why I run so much. Part of it is an exercise habit. Part of it is that I like the results. I do get the “runners high” on occasion. I like being able to eat what I want. But mostly its because of mornings like today.

Contrary to what The Secret suggests, I did NOT wake up this morning, put my feet on the ground and begin to recite everything I was thankful for. Instead I walked around in this cloud of frustration. I did NOT feel like running. BUT, as I am a crazy creature of habit, I laced up my shoes, grabbed my dog (it was still dark) and off I went. I’ve been trying to use the time to think about positive things (too much focus on negative lately), but that just wasn’t happening this morning (So The Secret is a work is progress, ok?). This morning it was all about what’s making me crazy:

My dog knocking over the entire water bowl before I left in his rush to get outside

The fact that, despite getting enough sleep, I’ve been more tired than usual lately

Finances (is anyone NOT stressed over this?)

A certain person, who (and shall remain nameless) has been causing my husband (and therefore me) frustration and heartache over the last several months

The fact that I’m not pregnant yet

The fact that it’s taking so long.

I’m not perfect. I get frustrated. I get annoyed. More often than I’d like. But this morning, I was able to channel all of this and knock out 2.9 miles in 22 minutes and 37 seconds.

Take THAT frustration!

Week 5 – Rough Runs Happen (The First Wall)

Week 5 – 12 miles 11.6 miles + one softball game

We were tired today. I hate getting up when its still pitch black outside. Lynnsey also ran a race yesterday, and I for some unknown reason have just felt worn out the last couple of days. I think this weeks’ picture summarizes us quite well:

We are sleepy.

While she finished getting ready, I grabbed some M & Ms. Because M & Ms are good ANY time of day, especially 7am.

 

 

 

 

 

Yum.

Unfortunately, as it also happens in races, I think I’ve hit my first “wall”. It was just a tough run. We only went .6 miles over last week and it felt like much longer. Plus, the backs of my legs started to feel super tight around mile 9 or so. That in addition to some tummy rumbles, and Lynnsey’s fatigue from the race yesterday made for a rough run. I know for a fact we got slower as we went along.

Walls suck. They make you wonder why you signed up for this gig. I’m only at week 5 and already feeling kinda blah? I don’t remember hitting one last year, but it was my first marathon, and I didn’t really start training until probably 12 weeks before (plus my brain probably blocked it out). This year I’m following an 18 week plan. Thank goodness for running buddies, they make the whole thing so much easier! I’m hoping next weeks’ half marathon and a slightly shorter run the week after will help get me back into gear.   But we finished, so that’s what counts!

On the topic of tired, I enjoyed part of this mornings’ conversation centering around our husbands’ tendencies to talk in their sleep. Last night I happened to be awake and had the following “conversation” with mine:

Bryan: fertilized eggs

Me: huh?

Bryan: fertilized eggs….they become a zygote?

Me: (I can’t remember for sure but I reply anyway) uh-huh

Bryan: Then what do they become? A bastard?

Me: I think maybe an embryo? (Again, I don’t remember for sure)

Bryan: Oh. Hey, are we both talking in our sleep?

Me: No, you are. I’m awake.

He had no recollection of this conversation this morning.

Good thing he wasn’t getting up to run.