Daisy Downer

I'm looking for my running mojo. Has anyone seen it? It's average height, blond (smoking hot, of course), and oh, smoking fast. It up and took off and in its place left a drab, slow, blob-girl counting down the dwindling final days of her twenties. (That's right, my big 3-0 is only two weeks away. Candy and running shoes are acceptable birthday gifts.)

I ran a 5K on Saturday and it was just blah. I can't figure out what the problem is - I know I can run faster, but the last couple of races, I just haven't cared that much. I think some apathy I've been feeling in other areas of my life (hello, work) is dripping over into running. Which really pisses me off. So I've got to chase it away somehow. Just haven't quite figured that out . . .

On a more positive note, I am leaving for vacation on Saturday. A week at the cabin with the family. My husband sent a list of all the things we need to bring (boat, fishing stuff, etc.). I responded with: "Don't forget, I want to bring my kayak, my bike, the jogging stroller, and Sophie's little car." His response: "We're going to have to rent a semi."

Call it a Brick

I have to admit that I've been getting a little tri-envy lately. I read tales of my fellow bloggers training for and completing triathlons and I think, "ooh, that sounds fun." And then I remember that I can't really swim. And the thought of swimming in open water (without a life jacket, kickboard, arm wings, or rescue boat) and crashing against other people while swimming completely terrifies me.

Even though I'm NOT training for a tri (I know my limitations, after all), I am trying to diversify my training a little bit. I've been biking. And last night, I added swimming. I took Sophie to a tot's swimming class. So maybe putting your chin in the water, blowing bubbles, putting your nose in the water, and putting each ear in the water isn't a traditional swimming workout. It's in the pool, so it counts. If I keep it up, in ten years I may be ready to take on that tri.

To create my "brick" workout, I ran 6 miles when we got home from the pool. If you count the wrestling match I had with Sophie getting her out of the pool and changed into dry clothes before we came home (can we say terrible twos?), then I really did have my own little triathlon last night.

Sidenote to Athleta: I love you. You know I do. But you really should add a warning to the description of the Shirred Bra Cup Tankini. I suggest the following: Even though this swimsuit is marketed to our larger-breasted customers, BEWARE, you may end up looking like a porn star. You SHOULD NOT wear this swimsuit to baby swim class. You WILL look like a whore. Sex-starved fathers of infants and nursing babies may stare. A lot. You may feel like you are swimming in shark-infested waters covered in blood rather than in the kiddie pool.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Can I Get a Do-Over?

I give myself a big fat F for Fail on the healthy front for the weekend. Let's break it down. I was visiting my grandparents in Wisconsin from Thursday night until late last night. How many runs? Zero. How much DQ ice cream cake? Um, too embarrassing to tell. To top it off, I couldn't get my lazy ass out of bed this morning to get in a run before work.

Eight hours into the week and I am working like a fool to make up for my weekend debauchery. Healthy eating? Check. (The lunch makeover is going extremely well - enjoyed another big salad today.) Running? I'm just getting ready to change into my running clothes and head to the track for a speed workout. Then I'll pick up Sophie from daycare and hit the grocery store on the way home for some healthy stuff to grill for supper.

There is one little gray storm cloud on my A+ Monday. A teensy tiny headache. Okay, a big giant headache. Ice cream withdrawals? Probably.

No Lions, No Tigers . . . Just Bears

I'm usually pretty tired (okay, half asleep) during my easy early morning 3 milers, but this morning I got a big wakeup call. About a half mile from my house on the way back I saw a black bear come up from the river and cross the road. I pointed it out to Jim (who runs with his head down and never sees anything - kind of our standing joke) and he got super excited. We continued on and a truck pulled up to us. The driver told us to be careful because he saw another bear in a driveway just up the road. When we ran up to that house, we saw a HUGE black bear practically on these people's porch. We looked at each other and said, "Maybe we should run a little faster." I talked to my mom this morning and told her about our bear spotting. Her suggestion? To carry a tin pot and wooden spoon while we are running so we can make a lot of noise. Probably not going to happen.

Anyhow, Sophie and I are off tomorrow to southern Wisconsin to visit my grandparents for the long weekend. Hope everyone has a great 4th of July!

Lunch Makeover

I used to be really good about bringing my lunch to work. I'd pack my little bag with a Lean Cuisine meal, yogurt, some fruit, and I was good. I'd occasionally go out to lunch with friends, but would always get back on track with bringing my lunch. In the last year or so, I have completely fallen off the wagon. I have been going out to lunch every day.

It's easy to see how it happened. I got sick of Lean Cuisine meals (no shock there). Then I started bringing these wrap sandwiches. Got sick of those too. But now I'm really sick of eating out. I live and work in a small town, so it's not like there are many tempting, delicious optiongs. It's expensive, and I'd rather spend my money shopping than on the same crappy restaurant meals. And it certainly isn't healthy.

Because it's summer, I've been in the mood for salads. So I stocked up on spinach and a bunch of veggies and decide to bring salads. Today was day 1: I just feasted on a bowl of spinach, red and orange peppers, cucumbers, carrots, strawberries, walnuts and dried cranberries. It was delicious. Now I just have to figure out a way to mix it up so I don't get sick of salads too . . .

Running: ran an easy three miler this morning. I have a track workout on the scheduled for tonight -- 3 to 5 1200's. It is much cooler here than last Monday, so I'm looking forward to a better speed workout.

100th Post

I tried to think of something special to do for my 100th post. 100 things about me? Can't really think of that many. A giveaway? Too much work. So instead I decided to post a picture of my ridiculously cute child with her race medal from a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure she's thinking about how she could have kicked a little harder at the end and taken that four year old who beat her . . .

I'm off to the wonder that is Wednesday traffic court. Happy Wednesday!

Race Report - Garry Bjorklund 1/2 Marathon

Alternate Title: Grandma's Still Hates Me
Alternate Title #2: The Time You Spend in the Porta Potties Still Counts

After getting to bed at 8:30 Friday night, I woke up to my 2:30 a.m. alarm feeling pretty well-rested. I had packed everything Friday night, so all I had to do was get dressed and get myself out the door. I was at my friend Cheryl's by 3:30 and we were off. Once we got to Duluth, we had no problem finding parking, finding the bathroom, and finding the lines for the buses to the start. I felt really good and even had some moments of wishing I was running the full instead of the half.

Sidenote: I decided to go with Outfit #2, the bright pink Addidas tennis skirt and white Nike tank. This was an excellent, trampy choice. But definitely not as trampy as the girl who was wearing a short gray cotton skirt (like the one's you get a Victoria's Secret) that said "Daddy's Girl" across the ass and a matching gray cotton teensy tiny bra. With tramp stamp on full display. This? Was not an attractive look, especially when drenched with sweat. Unless of course this girl reads my blog, in which case, I think your outfit was really cute.

So where were we? Oh yes, the race. We started off and I felt strong and had no problem locking into my 9:00/mile pace. It was warm, but not unreasonable. There were tons of people, but I didn't feel like the dodging was taking too much out of me. At about mile 2, my stomach started complaining. I was able to maintain my pace, but by mile 4 I had to stop at the porta potties RIGHT NOW. With waiting in line and, um, going, my break was just under 4 minutes. But I felt much better and got right back into my groove. I kept telling myself that I would have no problem making up those few minutes.

At mile 6, I took my first Gu. Almost immediately, my stomach started making itself known again. I kept telling myself to just ignore it and keeping running. This became impossible by mile 8, when again I had to stop at the porta potties. This time, my break was nearly 8 minutes. And I felt worse after than I did before. I struggled to get back on pace. By this time, it was also starting to get much warmer, which didn't help.

During mile 9, my stomach started to feel a little better. I had one more Gu with me that I had been planning on taking at mile 10. I spent much of mile 9 debating whether I should take that Gu. I felt like I needed it, but did not want to make any more porta potty stops. Finally, I decided to just take it. With a total of 12 minutes so far in the porta potty, I knew that my time was shot. After the Gu, I was able to finish the race without any further toilet breaks. My last three miles were all under 9:00 miles. Because I was now running in a slower pack, it felt like I would just get into a groove and then hit a wall of people. The dodging took a lot out of me and felt much worse than it did at the start of the race.

About half a mile from the finish, I ran around a corner and had some girls yell, "Cute skirt." Then I heard some people yelling, "Go Heather!" I looked and had no clue who they were. So maybe they were cheering for another Heather. Whatever. I waved and smiled. I'll take what I can get.

I turned the final corner and felt a mini-rush from all the people cheering on both sides of the road. But mostly I felt disappointment because I was so far from my goal. I crossed the line in 2:14:48. Not a personal worst, but close. Fourteen minutes and forty-nine seconds worse than my goal. The part of me that knows I am capable of a sub-2:00 half was very disappointed. But for the most part, I have come to accept that I did the best I could given the crappy (literally) circumstances. And now I've got to work my ass off to get that sub-2:00 in Mora in August.

The best part of the race? Coming home to find Sophie down for a nap. I had time to shower and lay down and take a half hour nap myself!