To quote J.
I ran 32 miles today. And when I say ran, I mean ran. Not terribly fast (about a 10-minute pace for half, about a 13 minute pace for the other half) - finished in 6 hours. But I didn't walk. At all.
And now I am tired. I'll change this post to a race report here in a while after all the results come in. But for now, know that I did it and am still alive.
*UPDATE: Race report below*
The weather was questionable when I rolled out of bed at 4:45 Saturday morning to pull on some clothes and drive the more-than-an-hour trip up to Yellow Springs for the race. I packed a bag that allowed for just about every possible weather condition, and multiple changes for some. I did NOT want a clothing issue to be the reason for a DNF. I was a little scared that I wouldn't manage the distance, I felt like I'd be faking it at best, so I considered not starting.
But that's just not how I function. I said I would do it, so I set out to do it or die trying.
Let me just say that John Bryan state park is awesome in any case, but in early spring - and with this one having been so warm - it was BEAUTIFULLY green and flowery. The trail system is really well maintained, and the race director did an awesome job of routing us on it - you'd have had to try pretty hard to get lost. The rain held off for almost the whole race (I got rained on for about 5 miles of it - which, considering the percentage, is not bad), and we even got peeks of blue sky.
The aid stations were spaced perfectly - for me, at least. The life squad guys were never more than 3 miles from us at any point on the loop. And as to food, water, etc., I didn't need to carry anything with me, they had them manned to a T and stocked with more variety than I would have tried to eat. I used mostly pretzel rods, gels, gatorade, and water - though I did try some fruit snacks (disastrously - my throat closed up on them) and even had a couple bites of an apple. I know that they say ultramarathoners have stomachs of steel, but I just don't. I mean, I think I probably handle taking food in while running better than the average joe runner, but I've got nothing on the guys that eat pizza and chili and stuff while they're trucking along. The only picture of me this race shows just how hard it is for me to make myself eat on the trail - check out my face! Almost suffering to get that gel down. :-)
The course being a loop was a nice security blanket for me, it made me feel less like I was going to die out in the woods without anyone knowing it. And I could swap out clothes and shoes. In true runner-craziness fashion, the loop was this lolling, gently-rolling and gradually downward-sloping path that dropped down to the river at just over halfway through. Then a stretch of REALLY TECHNICAL (here read: lots of roots, big boulder-y rocks sticking up like the earth's bones were trying to reach through, cliff faces, gravelly riverbed that at one point was within inches of the river itself, thank-goodness-it's-flat-cause-there's-no-running-fast-on-this, obstacle course-like running) trail. I was grateful for it, because the lateral motion gave my muscles a break from my robotic running form. The back-and-forth felt super nice every time through. And it made the trail different each loop because I looked up at different points - which was nice. And finish off with two really steep climbs - a set of old stone steps and a hill, both of which had their fair share of fallen trees to navigate. True distance runner mentality to go "Yes! The hill! Bust up it then I'm DONE!", right?
I ran part of the first loop with a lady named Holly - I recognized her because I'd read her race report online. I was trying to not go out too fast and kill myself (I train at shorter distances at about a 9- or 9:30 pace; nothing doing me trying for THAT for 32 miles), she helped me get off to a good start. We had a nice chat and then either she dropped back or I stepped up. Then I chatted in the rocky section with a guy who told me that by his GPS we were keeping a 9:40 pace. Right. I slowed down, I knew there'd be no keeping it up.
As I came out of the first loop I ditched my jacket. At the shelter I saw this guy with some awesome huaraches, and said something to him about them - we struck up a conversation about everything from barefoot running to raw foods and veganism to natural childbirth and non-traditional/non-gender-based parenting arrangements. Needless to say, the second loop FLEW by! I liked Randy a lot. I was planning on using my Vibrams for the last loop, he convinced me to go for it for the last half. When we got to the shelter I switched shoes, but I took off before he was ready to get moving again.
Going into the third loop I was SO GLAD I listened to Randy's advice - the foot pain I was wrestling with went away completely. I ran most of the loop alone, though there were Boy Scouts (one of whom was serenading runners with a ukelele) all along the trail, which made for some fun banter. I did sort of leapfrog through the end of the third loop with a lady named Linda. I thought she was inspiring, the 50k was a training run for her - she runs 100-mile races. *sigh* Someday when my kids are big, maybe. She and I were built similarly (petite and short) - but she was probably 5-10 pounds lighter than me. My thick thighs and runner butt, mostly. At the end of the race in the parking lot, she complimented me for my methodical pace. I liked the compliment.
The last loop I ran in almost complete solitude - leapfrogged with Linda a tiny bit and then talked with another lady (whose name I didn't catch, she was just running two of the loops to run with her husband so I can't even take a guess from the results), but by the time we went through the aid station Linda was away and gone and I had left the other lady behind. The rain that had been threatening finally let loose, and I had to talk myself into not going back the mile to the aid station. Once I got back into the woods I was chilled to the point of having cold hands, but I talked myself into keeping moving. The mental battle was something fierce - I've not talked myself through something like that since childbirth. I was methodically counting steps, keeping my breathing measured and regular, calculating distances and times out in my head. By the time I got to the climbs the last two times I was ready to walk - but I made myself keep to at least a shuffle because I knew the end was around the corner, literally.
I expected to be in serious pain at the end of the race - I was after Tecumseh. This race, not so much. I WAS freezing (the rain was in loop 4), but I bounced over to my bag, stripped off wet layers in favor of dry socks (NO SHOES over them) and T-shirt, and huddled by the fire that the WONDERFUL volunteers had going in the shelter. I've never been so glad to see a heat source. I can also say the only time I was more glad to see my Dad was when I got home from my mission - then cause I missed him, this time because he had my kids and a bag with dry sweats and sports bra and a hooded sweatshirt and some converse in it.
All told, I was okay! At mile 24 I was on pace to beat my previous marathon best by about 15 minutes - and then I kept going for another 6 miles, ha ha! I was the 6th woman to finish, the other four women under 30 who even attempted the race, I beat.
No major stiffness (though some minor ankle pains in BOTH ankles next day), just some aches in my back and shoulders. I also felt pretty unbalanced stomach-wise, but some of the other runners suggested caffeinated pop and sodium would fix it. So on the way home I grabbed a Dr. Pepper and a bag of pretzel rods. I was in fine shape by the time we got home, even ate some pizza before bed.
It was a great race. And now I might have to run another one.
But that's no surprise, is it?
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Favorite thing
At the moment, my very favorite thing is when J says
"Because....uuummm......ah-ow know."
It makes me happy.
My little boy is three today! And I'm so glad that he was born. On my kids' birthdays I find myself re-living their births. I mean, as much as you can without all the pain and intense focus. Seriously, though, I think back to how overwhelmingly joyful it felt to hold them the first time, and how rewarding it made all the struggle to get them.
I love my babies, even though they're not babies any more!
"Because....uuummm......ah-ow know."
It makes me happy.
My little boy is three today! And I'm so glad that he was born. On my kids' birthdays I find myself re-living their births. I mean, as much as you can without all the pain and intense focus. Seriously, though, I think back to how overwhelmingly joyful it felt to hold them the first time, and how rewarding it made all the struggle to get them.
I love my babies, even though they're not babies any more!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Who can find a virtuous woman?
I've been mulling Proverbs 31 over in my head for a while. I've been devoting a lot of my personal scripture study time to my (somewhat vain) attempts to reconcile scripture and recent conference addresses with the cultural practices of the LDS church.
Honestly, I feel acutely torn by the fact that official rhetoric puts me up on some sort of pedestal (Women are so great - better than men even! I love my wife and am so glad she supports me! Aren't we glad for the righteous mothers in Zion! I could go on, but all of this bothers me for various reasons - not least of which being the idea that men are somehow less capable of spirituality than women) while in reality women are relegated to a marginal role in the church. Some of them are even unlucky enough to have a husband who insists on acting as THE intermediary between God and the family, and they find them selves marginalized even within their own families. Is it any wonder that with the lip-service-only value given to women in the church, the LDS church has such a high rate of women with depression? Talk is cheap. Show me a man who actually supports women and actually values them by actively supporting them. You know, with actions. Like being a capable parent and sharing the burden of making a home comfortable.
But that's not what this post is about. Others have already dissected those issues with beautiful skill and rhetoric that impresses me. I only mention it to explain why I'm studying Proverbs 31 the way I am.
And I'm going to leave verses 10 for last. So there.
I've been thinking about the list (the very LONG list) of the things that the virtuous woman does - there's a whole host of things listed in verses 11 - 27.
My first thought is a reminder that it is impossible to do all things at every moment. If you're looking for the virtuous woman in Proverbs and expect her to be continually doing ALL of those things ALL of the time, well.....good luck with that. Probably not going to happen. I repeatedly remind my children that they are the most important thing I have, but that their immediate wants are not always the most important thing; this resembles that condition. At different stages in our lives we'll worship God in different ways and give emphasis to different commandments.
Honestly, I feel acutely torn by the fact that official rhetoric puts me up on some sort of pedestal (Women are so great - better than men even! I love my wife and am so glad she supports me! Aren't we glad for the righteous mothers in Zion! I could go on, but all of this bothers me for various reasons - not least of which being the idea that men are somehow less capable of spirituality than women) while in reality women are relegated to a marginal role in the church. Some of them are even unlucky enough to have a husband who insists on acting as THE intermediary between God and the family, and they find them selves marginalized even within their own families. Is it any wonder that with the lip-service-only value given to women in the church, the LDS church has such a high rate of women with depression? Talk is cheap. Show me a man who actually supports women and actually values them by actively supporting them. You know, with actions. Like being a capable parent and sharing the burden of making a home comfortable.
But that's not what this post is about. Others have already dissected those issues with beautiful skill and rhetoric that impresses me. I only mention it to explain why I'm studying Proverbs 31 the way I am.
And I'm going to leave verses 10 for last. So there.
I've been thinking about the list (the very LONG list) of the things that the virtuous woman does - there's a whole host of things listed in verses 11 - 27.
My first thought is a reminder that it is impossible to do all things at every moment. If you're looking for the virtuous woman in Proverbs and expect her to be continually doing ALL of those things ALL of the time, well.....good luck with that. Probably not going to happen. I repeatedly remind my children that they are the most important thing I have, but that their immediate wants are not always the most important thing; this resembles that condition. At different stages in our lives we'll worship God in different ways and give emphasis to different commandments.
Right now the things that resonated with me personally the most are these:
Verse 13: worketh willingly with her hands
Verse 15: riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household
Verse 16: considereth a field and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard
Verse 17: girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms
I work willingly with my mind. My hands are part of the equation (hard to write on a chalkboard or type or grade papers without them), but the thing that really benefits me these days is the knowledge that I worked so hard to accrue over time (and oh such a long time it seemed....and is still not over). I'm so grateful that I didn't go the "get married at 19 and have babies as soon has humanly possible" route - I know several women who, while they accept that they chose this route, feel like cultural pressure indoctrinated them into it. For me in my headstrong ways, it's nice to know that I'm staying because I choose to - not because it's my only alternative.
Working outside my home means that I often rise while it's yet night - to finish some grading, some laundry or mending, and to get dinner into the crock pot so that we can eat when I get home. I'm willing to sacrifice the extra sleep because I value the things I do, and don't want to neglect any of them.
We recently purchased fruit trees and planted them; I finally got the raised beds into shape, too. Last year's garden was good, this year's should be great. And I can't wait for the trees to bear.....the years are going to drag, but it will be fun to teach the kids about the process and watch the trees grow and change. We're also going to buy chickens to sort of co-op with my cousin (who has space but no money). With all of these things, we'll be largely self-sufficient for 1/4 of the year. Awesome.
I'm strengthening my legs mostly these days. Though there's some core and arm strength involved in running (looking at most any runner will demonstrate this). I'm at the point that I can run for about 3 hours before I start to feel sluggish. It's amazing - I have more energy (even though I'm expending a ton of it), I'm nicer to the kids and more patient, and just feel more healthy overall. It's nice to feel capable and confident in my body's abilities. This weekend's 50K should be quite the adventure. We'll see how it goes.
I feel like I have serious room for improvement in my helping of the poor - fast offerings, storehouse assignments, and even donations to local thrift-stores-with-causes seem insufficient to me. I can and should do better.
So now for verse 10.
The word "virtuous" has me fascinated, because the shared root with the Latin "vir" (as in virile - manly) makes me think of the 16th-century Spanish "one-sex" model of gender - which holds that men and women are just at different points along some sort of gender continuum (no guessing who's farther along toward perfection under said model, of course). Being virtuous means being manly? Being "varonil" for a female protagonist in a Golden Age play is NOT an insult (the way calling a woman "butch" these days might be). It's a compliment. But I decided that as much as I liked the idea that the scriptures encourage women in their striving to have characteristics typically associated with men (working, industry, protecting the people in the home, etc), I still wanted and needed to dig deeper.
The Hebrew word in the verse, normally translated as "virtuous," is "chayil." In the Tanakh this version of the word is used almost exclusively to refer to warfare. So women should be strong, forceful, mighty. And those things are not necessarily "manly," they're just desirable traits. I like this explanation.
I'm striving to work on the "to-do" list in Proverbs 31 because I feel like those are things Christ did. And I want to follow His example. But in the meantime, it's nice to know that I don't have to be some sort of shrinking violet in order to accomplish some invented female variation on discipleship.
Verse 13: worketh willingly with her hands
Verse 15: riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household
Verse 16: considereth a field and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard
Verse 17: girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms
I work willingly with my mind. My hands are part of the equation (hard to write on a chalkboard or type or grade papers without them), but the thing that really benefits me these days is the knowledge that I worked so hard to accrue over time (and oh such a long time it seemed....and is still not over). I'm so grateful that I didn't go the "get married at 19 and have babies as soon has humanly possible" route - I know several women who, while they accept that they chose this route, feel like cultural pressure indoctrinated them into it. For me in my headstrong ways, it's nice to know that I'm staying because I choose to - not because it's my only alternative.
Working outside my home means that I often rise while it's yet night - to finish some grading, some laundry or mending, and to get dinner into the crock pot so that we can eat when I get home. I'm willing to sacrifice the extra sleep because I value the things I do, and don't want to neglect any of them.
We recently purchased fruit trees and planted them; I finally got the raised beds into shape, too. Last year's garden was good, this year's should be great. And I can't wait for the trees to bear.....the years are going to drag, but it will be fun to teach the kids about the process and watch the trees grow and change. We're also going to buy chickens to sort of co-op with my cousin (who has space but no money). With all of these things, we'll be largely self-sufficient for 1/4 of the year. Awesome.
I'm strengthening my legs mostly these days. Though there's some core and arm strength involved in running (looking at most any runner will demonstrate this). I'm at the point that I can run for about 3 hours before I start to feel sluggish. It's amazing - I have more energy (even though I'm expending a ton of it), I'm nicer to the kids and more patient, and just feel more healthy overall. It's nice to feel capable and confident in my body's abilities. This weekend's 50K should be quite the adventure. We'll see how it goes.
I feel like I have serious room for improvement in my helping of the poor - fast offerings, storehouse assignments, and even donations to local thrift-stores-with-causes seem insufficient to me. I can and should do better.
So now for verse 10.
The word "virtuous" has me fascinated, because the shared root with the Latin "vir" (as in virile - manly) makes me think of the 16th-century Spanish "one-sex" model of gender - which holds that men and women are just at different points along some sort of gender continuum (no guessing who's farther along toward perfection under said model, of course). Being virtuous means being manly? Being "varonil" for a female protagonist in a Golden Age play is NOT an insult (the way calling a woman "butch" these days might be). It's a compliment. But I decided that as much as I liked the idea that the scriptures encourage women in their striving to have characteristics typically associated with men (working, industry, protecting the people in the home, etc), I still wanted and needed to dig deeper.
The Hebrew word in the verse, normally translated as "virtuous," is "chayil." In the Tanakh this version of the word is used almost exclusively to refer to warfare. So women should be strong, forceful, mighty. And those things are not necessarily "manly," they're just desirable traits. I like this explanation.
I'm striving to work on the "to-do" list in Proverbs 31 because I feel like those are things Christ did. And I want to follow His example. But in the meantime, it's nice to know that I don't have to be some sort of shrinking violet in order to accomplish some invented female variation on discipleship.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Poop
This morning has not been a great one. Bee lolled in bed until one second too late and just missed the toilet with some runny poop. Then J (who is potty training) had a blowout in his first pair of undies for the day....the kind of blowout that goes up his back and into all the crannies of his miniature manly bits.
To top it off, Ben didn't warn me that the dog hadn't done her business this morning, so I came home from the school run to set J down on the landing step and say "Mollie! GO to BED! J, don't move, I have to clean this up," which I did while he said "Wadee pooped. It's weedie tow tinky!"
I love my kids, and my dog, and cleaning up after them is the least of my worries. After all, what if Bee turns into a mean girl, or J never learns to read, or the dog never learns to behave off-leash? Any number of worries in my life are much more problematic than a little poop.
But cleaning up three types of poop from three different sources before 9 o'clock on a Monday morning is the reason I am SO GRATEFUL that I do out-of-the-home-type work a couple of days a week - it reminds me that I'm a capable human being. I'd be inclined to forget this, otherwise. Being a stay at home parent might be a great gig for some people, but for me personally it would be quite difficult and suck the living spirit out of me most days!
As for today, I at least have the consolation now that there remains no one in the house to have a poop issue.
To top it off, Ben didn't warn me that the dog hadn't done her business this morning, so I came home from the school run to set J down on the landing step and say "Mollie! GO to BED! J, don't move, I have to clean this up," which I did while he said "Wadee pooped. It's weedie tow tinky!"
I love my kids, and my dog, and cleaning up after them is the least of my worries. After all, what if Bee turns into a mean girl, or J never learns to read, or the dog never learns to behave off-leash? Any number of worries in my life are much more problematic than a little poop.
But cleaning up three types of poop from three different sources before 9 o'clock on a Monday morning is the reason I am SO GRATEFUL that I do out-of-the-home-type work a couple of days a week - it reminds me that I'm a capable human being. I'd be inclined to forget this, otherwise. Being a stay at home parent might be a great gig for some people, but for me personally it would be quite difficult and suck the living spirit out of me most days!
As for today, I at least have the consolation now that there remains no one in the house to have a poop issue.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Running in the rain
Apparently I need to do better about checking the weather radar before I leave home. At about mile 2 and a half of my 8-mile run today, the wind picked up, a bright lightning flash lit up the woods and the clouds opened up. There was no dripping drizzling build up, this little tiny storm-cell-that-could hit me full force out of the blue.
I did something I haven't done since I was a teenager - stripped down to shorts and a sports bra and ran with shirt and shoes in hand looking up with my mouth open to catch raindrops.
Take that, modesty police!
The volume of water in such a short amount of time made for sliding along the river bottom (mud an inch deep for about 2 miles) and really cautious downhills (I'm still balky about my recovering ankle), but I still finished the 8 miles in 1:18:and some.
I did something I haven't done since I was a teenager - stripped down to shorts and a sports bra and ran with shirt and shoes in hand looking up with my mouth open to catch raindrops.
Take that, modesty police!
The volume of water in such a short amount of time made for sliding along the river bottom (mud an inch deep for about 2 miles) and really cautious downhills (I'm still balky about my recovering ankle), but I still finished the 8 miles in 1:18:and some.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Lemons
Distance running has given me yet another analogy for life.
When life gives you lemons make lemonade, right?
Or not.
Today after I finished my short run (5 miles!) and came into the kitchen to get some water, I saw a bag of lemons on the counter. I had set them out to make lemonade. My body had other ideas, though....apparently I'm vitamin C deficient at the moment.
I grabbed a lemon, sliced it, cut the slices in half (so I had little half moon shapes) and ate it. All but the peel.
The weirdest thing was that at first they tasted like lemons, but then in between slices the aftertaste was super sweet.
So when life gives you lemons, cut them to pieces and suck the life out of them to rebuild you and make you stronger!
When life gives you lemons make lemonade, right?
Or not.
Today after I finished my short run (5 miles!) and came into the kitchen to get some water, I saw a bag of lemons on the counter. I had set them out to make lemonade. My body had other ideas, though....apparently I'm vitamin C deficient at the moment.
I grabbed a lemon, sliced it, cut the slices in half (so I had little half moon shapes) and ate it. All but the peel.
The weirdest thing was that at first they tasted like lemons, but then in between slices the aftertaste was super sweet.
So when life gives you lemons, cut them to pieces and suck the life out of them to rebuild you and make you stronger!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Yet another trail race
These are getting frequent....I guess because it's not winter any more. And there are more races. Because you don't have to be crazy to run in the weather we're having. So people actually show up! Imagine.
Anyway.
Today was my absolute favorite running weather. 65 degrees (but windy so it felt just a little cooler) and raining (but not pouring). The medium-but-not-heavy rain factor is important because if it's raining TOO hard, you feel a little like you're drowning. But I LOVE to run in the rain. Don't know why, I just do. It was perfect!
I've been trying to re-up my mileage in hopes of still managing the 50K in two weeks. I took two weeks off (well, as "off" as I ever am from running these days - I still tested the ankle three times for 4, 5, and 6 miles) for the ankle injury. I still feel a little gimpy, and running long distances makes it swell a teeny bit and ache. But no pain that's truly worth the word. So this morning I rolled out of bed at 7:30, grabbed the first running clothes I could find, and set out to the 7-mile loop I train on.
During that run the rain started. That made the trail a little slick, and I was feeling sissy-ish with the ankle, so I reined back a bit in hopes of not putting too much strain on it from sideways motion. I finished in an hour and 15 minutes, wishing I had checked the weather before I left home so that I wouldn't have worn a white shirt. I only had 35 minutes to get to the race start at 10, so there was no way I could go home for a change of clothes. I rooted around in the car and found a lightweight sweatshirt that I use sometimes, and switched into it. I wasn't terribly excited about that because it's not cold...if it's over 50 degrees I always run in short sleeves because it's just more comfortable. But I decided that between the stopping and subsequent getting cold, the sweatshirt would be better than being a complete exhibitionist and running the risk of cooling down too much.
I made it to the start with enough time to register and hang out for 5 minutes or so, then they did announcements and we were off. This course was interesting because it was varied. There was a lot of flat or very barely rolling meadow, a pond, a good mile along a large creek (out west it'd be a river, here not so much), forest, and LOTS of hills. And lots of mud. Like this much mud:
Early in the race I passed several people (men and women) who seemed really concerned with keeping their shoes dry/mud-free. On a rainy day and a 6-mile course, you just have to get over that. I'm more tortoise than hare anyway, and the added miles from the morning took their toll on me. I ran about 40 seconds per mile slower than usual for this distance, but managed to run all but about 100 yards up a very slick muddy hill. I told myself that the walk was because I was babying my ankle, just to make me feel better, but I was grateful for the rest. Even though I was slow, I consistently passed people. From the "okay now we're settled into pace groups" point at the start of the race to the end, only one person passed me, and I stopped counting how many I passed.
Downhills were tricky because of the mud....it was clay-y dirt, so it was really slide-y. So not a lot of "let it all go, careen down like a crazy person"-type running. And I was okay with that, for today.
The end was hilarious because it was this monster hill....not TERRIBLY steep (okay, pretty steep), but just endless. You could see the finish for a full 5 minutes or so, and it didn't get any closer until the last 100 yards. Fortunately I'm sort of a glutton for punishment when it comes to hills, so I had a great time. Passed two guys....which is lame and I try not to do at the end of a race, especially if the people I'm passing have led me the whole time. But alas. Today I had to just run. Because it was a hill. And I was not going to walk.
I finished the 6.5 miles in 1:10:18, was second in my age group and just barely into a bottom half finish (yuck, I HATE that). The 10th woman overall, so there must've been more short-distance men at this race than the normal crowd (which I guess you'd expect for a 10K - well a 10K plus a bit, but you know....do what you can with trails).
It was a good day - 13 miles logged. If I can do 20 next weekend, I'll believe that I can do the ultra.
Anyway.
Today was my absolute favorite running weather. 65 degrees (but windy so it felt just a little cooler) and raining (but not pouring). The medium-but-not-heavy rain factor is important because if it's raining TOO hard, you feel a little like you're drowning. But I LOVE to run in the rain. Don't know why, I just do. It was perfect!
I've been trying to re-up my mileage in hopes of still managing the 50K in two weeks. I took two weeks off (well, as "off" as I ever am from running these days - I still tested the ankle three times for 4, 5, and 6 miles) for the ankle injury. I still feel a little gimpy, and running long distances makes it swell a teeny bit and ache. But no pain that's truly worth the word. So this morning I rolled out of bed at 7:30, grabbed the first running clothes I could find, and set out to the 7-mile loop I train on.
During that run the rain started. That made the trail a little slick, and I was feeling sissy-ish with the ankle, so I reined back a bit in hopes of not putting too much strain on it from sideways motion. I finished in an hour and 15 minutes, wishing I had checked the weather before I left home so that I wouldn't have worn a white shirt. I only had 35 minutes to get to the race start at 10, so there was no way I could go home for a change of clothes. I rooted around in the car and found a lightweight sweatshirt that I use sometimes, and switched into it. I wasn't terribly excited about that because it's not cold...if it's over 50 degrees I always run in short sleeves because it's just more comfortable. But I decided that between the stopping and subsequent getting cold, the sweatshirt would be better than being a complete exhibitionist and running the risk of cooling down too much.
I made it to the start with enough time to register and hang out for 5 minutes or so, then they did announcements and we were off. This course was interesting because it was varied. There was a lot of flat or very barely rolling meadow, a pond, a good mile along a large creek (out west it'd be a river, here not so much), forest, and LOTS of hills. And lots of mud. Like this much mud:
Early in the race I passed several people (men and women) who seemed really concerned with keeping their shoes dry/mud-free. On a rainy day and a 6-mile course, you just have to get over that. I'm more tortoise than hare anyway, and the added miles from the morning took their toll on me. I ran about 40 seconds per mile slower than usual for this distance, but managed to run all but about 100 yards up a very slick muddy hill. I told myself that the walk was because I was babying my ankle, just to make me feel better, but I was grateful for the rest. Even though I was slow, I consistently passed people. From the "okay now we're settled into pace groups" point at the start of the race to the end, only one person passed me, and I stopped counting how many I passed.
Downhills were tricky because of the mud....it was clay-y dirt, so it was really slide-y. So not a lot of "let it all go, careen down like a crazy person"-type running. And I was okay with that, for today.
The end was hilarious because it was this monster hill....not TERRIBLY steep (okay, pretty steep), but just endless. You could see the finish for a full 5 minutes or so, and it didn't get any closer until the last 100 yards. Fortunately I'm sort of a glutton for punishment when it comes to hills, so I had a great time. Passed two guys....which is lame and I try not to do at the end of a race, especially if the people I'm passing have led me the whole time. But alas. Today I had to just run. Because it was a hill. And I was not going to walk.
I finished the 6.5 miles in 1:10:18, was second in my age group and just barely into a bottom half finish (yuck, I HATE that). The 10th woman overall, so there must've been more short-distance men at this race than the normal crowd (which I guess you'd expect for a 10K - well a 10K plus a bit, but you know....do what you can with trails).
It was a good day - 13 miles logged. If I can do 20 next weekend, I'll believe that I can do the ultra.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Dancing
Today while I was sitting in my office listening to Yo-Yo Ma and editing a paper (hopefully for a conference) I overheard J, standing at the closed door of his big sis's room, say this:
"Sissie, wid eeoo tum dance wif me din da office?"
A minute later they both came into the office in tutus (J's is turquoise and pink, Bee's is white) and tiny bare feet. They're spinning around and J is doing his best to match his sis's pointed toes. In a year he'll be old enough to go to dance class, we'll see if he still wants to!
They are now dancing, and I am enjoying watching them much more than I was enjoying editing.
And I wonder why I never get any work done?
"Sissie, wid eeoo tum dance wif me din da office?"
A minute later they both came into the office in tutus (J's is turquoise and pink, Bee's is white) and tiny bare feet. They're spinning around and J is doing his best to match his sis's pointed toes. In a year he'll be old enough to go to dance class, we'll see if he still wants to!
They are now dancing, and I am enjoying watching them much more than I was enjoying editing.
And I wonder why I never get any work done?
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Love this quote
One of my favorite permas (don't know her personally but basically always love her comments and posts) over at Exponent II recently left a reply to another commenter in which she said the following:
"It is an old anti-feminist canard to claim that what feminists mean when they claim equality is that they want to be “like men on men’s terms.” I want nothing of the sort. I’m perfectly happy being a woman. I would not want to be a man. I don’t want to be like men, whatever the hell that means. I want to be myself. And I am absolutely the equal of every other human being out there, regardless of their gender or sex. Claiming equality is about worth, opportunity, access, etc. It has absolutely nothing to do with trying to turn myself into the exact same thing men are. And I personally do not know of any feminist that claims that “equal” means being “like men on men’s terms.”
... I get so very tired of people (whether overtly and actively anti-feminist or not) attributing to feminists the desire to be just like men and dressing up that notion in the “equal” means “same” mischaracterization."
I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment. I get flustered at the idea that somehow my enjoying "man" things makes me less "feminine", when in reality I'm just a person who loves to do things.
I love to sew things for my kids, run through the rain and mud, keep my house tidy and welcoming, drive my huge truck with the dog hanging her nose out the back window, pick big bunches of lilacs to make my office and kitchen smell good, dig in the garden and stack heavy timbers to make raised beds, read books, take apart and reassemble small machines to make them work again, drink tea, go backpacking, cook fun food, eat good food, work/write/teach/publish, come home to my kids and snuggle them while we read stories or watch a movie, budget money and manage it, dream big about a house in the country....lots and lots of things.
Negotiating these things only becomes a problem when we assign each of them to some sort of realm with invented boundaries, and then establish one or the other of the sexes as somehow being the inherent steward of each realm. Why can't we just accept that there's a vastly diverse variety of interest and talent across the spectrum of humanity, and then (in the event that we desire relationships) value complementarity and its benefits within those relationships??
Life would be so much easier, and people would probably be much nicer to one another.
"It is an old anti-feminist canard to claim that what feminists mean when they claim equality is that they want to be “like men on men’s terms.” I want nothing of the sort. I’m perfectly happy being a woman. I would not want to be a man. I don’t want to be like men, whatever the hell that means. I want to be myself. And I am absolutely the equal of every other human being out there, regardless of their gender or sex. Claiming equality is about worth, opportunity, access, etc. It has absolutely nothing to do with trying to turn myself into the exact same thing men are. And I personally do not know of any feminist that claims that “equal” means being “like men on men’s terms.”
... I get so very tired of people (whether overtly and actively anti-feminist or not) attributing to feminists the desire to be just like men and dressing up that notion in the “equal” means “same” mischaracterization."
I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment. I get flustered at the idea that somehow my enjoying "man" things makes me less "feminine", when in reality I'm just a person who loves to do things.
I love to sew things for my kids, run through the rain and mud, keep my house tidy and welcoming, drive my huge truck with the dog hanging her nose out the back window, pick big bunches of lilacs to make my office and kitchen smell good, dig in the garden and stack heavy timbers to make raised beds, read books, take apart and reassemble small machines to make them work again, drink tea, go backpacking, cook fun food, eat good food, work/write/teach/publish, come home to my kids and snuggle them while we read stories or watch a movie, budget money and manage it, dream big about a house in the country....lots and lots of things.
Negotiating these things only becomes a problem when we assign each of them to some sort of realm with invented boundaries, and then establish one or the other of the sexes as somehow being the inherent steward of each realm. Why can't we just accept that there's a vastly diverse variety of interest and talent across the spectrum of humanity, and then (in the event that we desire relationships) value complementarity and its benefits within those relationships??
Life would be so much easier, and people would probably be much nicer to one another.
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