HOW 'BOUT THEM COWBOYS???

My favorite post from my Eagles message board:

"It was like a two-hour orgasm."

Good times(TM). The Eagles had the lowest chances to make the playoffs at the beginning of today, and thanks to the Bucs (take that, Frank! That's for making fun of my shoes!) and the Bears, and the "hapless, error-prone, and just plain horrific" Cowboys, the Eagles live another day.

Woo hoo!!!!!!!

Best Run Ever

Totally was the best run ever...and only after an eight to ten day layoff (not even sure when I ran last...horrifying, I know!).

Thanks to the crazy snow, I've embraced my inner Betty Crocker and have been baking up a storm--challah (HOLLA!) bread, cookies, macaroni and cheese (with half and half--holla again!), so my belly is approaching 38 week status if you catch my drift.

"Those cookies done yet?"

Anyhoo, I've been feeling pretty sorry for myself because there is no possible way I can run when the streets are not plowed and there is ice under there and it's coooooooooold. But yesterday I broke down and decided to get a little physical exercise and walk to Zupans and probably go into debt from shopping there.

I opened the door and there is a fucking RUNNER right outside of my house. So, I walked right up to her (she was shuffling, obviously) and asked her how do you run in this shit? She proceeded to tell me about her great GoreTex Nike Pegasus shoes and how she just runs slowly. She and I agreed about the absolute need to run due to the whole craziness, mental illness issue. (tangent--as I'm telling Michael this story, he says "You talked to her? You hate talking to people.")

She looked down at my hiking boots and said, "You can run in those, I did it yesterday." So after we hugged and kissed goodbye (JK!!) I decided I was going to run to Zupans in my hiking boots, long underwear, jeans, cotton shirt, wool sweater, vest, jacket and ear muffs.

I have to say, it felt pretty good but good Lord was I hot when I got there! I also ran all the way home with a 1/2 gallon of milk, two pounds of butter (more cookies!), two huge blocks of cheese (mac and cheeeeeeese, woo hoo), a container of cream cheese and a box of pasta shells. The sound of a person running with a box of pasta in their backpack is enough to drive anyone crazy, but I was too excited to care.

So, today I decided to run. In gear and for longer than 15 minutes. I got out there and one of the first things that happened is that a person driving a pick-up made a point of clapping for me as he drove past. Now that's the way to start a run--a nice round of applause. I continued to run my route and found it wasn't difficult after all! Just focused on the road, just like a trail run, and avoid the ice. It rocked! The only difficult part was seeing all white for so long. I felt kind of blind.

And, I returned the favor when a mother of two asked me how it was to run and I told her it wasn't bad at all! Paying it forward yadda yadda yadda (what the fuck does that mean anyway? I kind of hate that phrase.)

So, the new UnderArmour Running shoes are coming out in January. My running hook up got me three pairs for 50 bucks a piece. Now that is a deal! These shoes are awesome. So much so I've been posting on message boards to try and start a viral obsession for these shoes so more stores will carry them. I'm nuts. I know it.


Anyhoo, that's it from West Side Central where the streets are not plowed but the cookies are fresh, yo.

It's TIME

So, not much running here in P-town thanks to the ice and the snow and the 19 degrees all day. Plus there are cookies to be eaten. I will probably pick back up Thursday or Friday after all the other storms pass through.

But this is for the Elf.

Elf at 38 weeks:

Sarah at 38 weeks



Totally.

Jeffy's response to being called out on The Run Report via text message: "Good blog! I was a drunk in Eugene. Looks like I'm in training too...for a drunkathon." Nice.

So, Jeffy, I'm talking to YOU...


Running is essential. The end.

So let's move on to one of my best days as a Mommy ever...stick with me, it ends with my run this afternoon.

I took the boys to the Children's Museum. Oliver was content to stay in the dirt pile made of small rubber pellets the whole time. Owen wanted to explore everything else. That made it very difficult for me to keep tabs on both. Every time I took Oliver out of the pit and tried to distract him with another area, we had a crying fit.

The store with fake food wouldn't even fly with him. Speaking of, the fake food they have there is so realistic it's scary. Guess what EVERY SINGLE CHILD in the place did when they saw this super realistic food. That's right. In the mouth. And I wonder where we got the super Stomach Flu strain this summer. Ew.

Anyhoo, after getting Oliver out of the pit one last time, he finally had enough. We're talking ear-splitting screams. I made the executive decision to cut and run. Owen was not on board with my decision. HE starts screaming and does the whole limp body maneuver (who teaches kids this stuff?).

"I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm always smiling."

Visualize please: I'm holding the 30-pound 18-month old who's screaming and wriggling to get down. I'm dragging the crying 3-year old without bones along the floor to the exit. Now, if you happened to be in the Children's Museum, what would you have done? STARE. That's right. I glazed my eyes, looked straight ahead and powered through. I was scared to make eye contact with anyone, because I doubt I could have controlled myself from saying:

• Oh, you got the model that doesn't cry? Fuck you.
  
• I hope this happens to you one time. In church. During the homily.
• I am not breaking his arm. He prefers to travel this way.
• Get the fuck out of my way before I fucking kill you.

I managed to get to the car and found the special remedy for two screaming children: I cried. Immediately Owen stopped and started saying "Don't cry Mommy, it's OK. You don't need to cry." I'm sure Oliver was thinking "Oh shit. This afternoon is gonna suck."

So, after taking them to the zoo (and another crying jag), we came home and I decided to try a new recipe for the crockpot. The ingredients: chicken, brown sugar, vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, pepper and 7-up. Guess what I learned today? If the ingredients sound weird to you, and you don't think some of them go together, the chicken won't miraculously taste like something completely different. It will actually taste like chicken that's been soaking in brown sugar, vinegar and soy sauce. We got pizza.

So, THE RUN! Finally. I was so miserable when Michael got home, I think he would have tried to put my sports bra, running shoes and socks and all my other gear on me himself. Then he would have kicked me in the ass.

I started out faster than usual and was surprised to find that I wasn't dying. I kept the pace up (we're not talking really fast here, people. Maybe a 9:30) until I got to the track and that's when I encountered the 2500 knot winds right in the kisser. God, I hate that. It slowed my overall time, but I think I've found a great formula. Do a small run after a long run, then a day off, then a tempo run. I felt awesome. I actually felt like my Under Armours were eating the pavement. I had a weird crocodile image there. (these are the best shoes ever...so much that my nice shoe connection lady is getting me another pair for 60 bucks and tells me the UA people were thrilled I love them so much. They come out January.)

So, the running is good. The kids are kids and I still can't cook. GOOD TIMES(TM) for sure.

Week One Review

So, this was the first week of training. I ran four days (should have been five) and included my first long run of seven miles, which I did yesterday afternoon. I have to say, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Although some of the hilly sidewalk running did suck. But I kept a nice 10 minute mile pace, and I stopped occasionally to stretch.

Nothing to note about the run except that Jeffy totally let me down and didn't join me (nor did he call to decline, but that's Jeffy). I think he was scared. Poll question: does calling someone out on your blog motivate them to run with you on the weekends? Talk amongst yourselves.

So mileage total for this week was 20. I am going to run today at Forest Park to work out the kinks. Should be a good one.

By the way, that running log I mentioned (www.logthatrun.com)? Is the WORST thing ever. In the details section where you can write about things? It won't allow you to use quotations marks, parentheses, and other common punctuation marks. Needless to say I shot off an email telling them about it and have returned to www.runnerslog.com, which has gotten a facelift! I love it.

Calorie Counting Gone Awry

So today was a big day for me--the return to the weekend morning run. My plan was to run for an hour, or about six miles. Got up at 630, ate a little breakfast and headed out. The weather was perfect--a little nippy but totally fine. In fact, I could have worn a t-shirt. It was light enough that I didn't have to wear my sweet reflective vest (the only time that thing has been worn is at the old house when I spent an entire day cleaning the house. Safety first.)

So imagine my surprise when I found myself struggling for the first seven minutes or so. Then for the next 30 minutes or so, and then finally all the way to the fucking end of this run! I was dying. Legs were like posts, breathing was irregular, my form kept breaking down. I became one of those people who move their arms in circles as they run. You've seen them. As Coach told me, it's just a waste of energy and you look like a moron to REAL RUNNERS LIKE ME.

So, this entire week I've been entering everything I eat into a Calorie Counter log. I love it. But I decided in my never ending quest to lose weight to only eat 1400 calories a day. Now, that's not easy people. Especially when you've spent the last two months eating the equivalent of a second dinner right before bed.

So I consulted my expert panel and I've decided to up my calories and see what happens. There is a training plan in place. However, it's not ready for prime time.

Two things from this run:

1. There is a house for sale whose real estate agent's first name is Muffie. Totally. And, I'll tell you what, if I'm going to pay 700,000 for a house, I'd feel pretty good buying from a Muffie.

2. Saw a house on my run that had two cars, each with a Penn State sticker. I'll be monitoring the situation. (edited to add: how about Penn State putting the smack down on Michigan State. Suckers.)

Next up: a run tomorrow with Jeffy. Hopefully six miles but he's already whining about it.

IT's the Shoes!

I'm back and re-dedicating myself yet again. This consistency thing is really hard. A month or so ago, I got a free pair of shoes to try out and then review for a magazine writer here in town. I was psyched but then saw the shoes--Under Armour?! What the hell? I immediately had a flashback to Lee and his compression shirt and then bloody nipples, and then...I digress.

Anyhoo, not only are these shoes from Under Armour, but they're ugly as sin too. The entire shoe is grey with a lime green logo. Bleh. I started running in these suckers, and they changed my life (doesn't take much). No more knee pain, IT pain, or quad pain. I actually looked forward to my runs and for about two weeks ran every other day or at least three times a week.

Then my babysitter got strep throat and I didn't run at all last week. Yesterday I did a quick 37 minutes in the Under Armour shoes (which I think are named "Cartilage"). Today I decided I must run in the Asics that cost 120 bucks.

About a mile from home the ol' IT band starts barking. And barking. Louder and louder. Kind of like the mother effer German Shepherd next door that barks for 15 minutes straight at 630 in the morning.

So, it's definitely the shoes. I guess I will have to run in the Under Armours until I work out the knots. I hate the foam roller but am committed to it.

Geez, is this boring or what? I have nothing funny to tell you. I'm logging my runs on a site I found called www.logthatrun.com which is pretty sweet. It's better than other online logs I've found. I also am tracking all my calories and nutrition info on another site. That's an eye opening experience. I already cheated and pigged out last night before bed and didn't put it in the log. Nothing like a little self sabotage.

All my football teams have let me down this year. The Penn State loss to Iowa was a kick in the stomach. Our one chance for a national championship and we blow it. Now we're looking straight down the barrel at the Rose Bowl vs. Oregon State, who we already killed this year.

The Eags? No comment. Embarrassing.

But, my fantasy football team is rocking.

The end.

Boring Run Talk with More Goose!

Whew, I almost died. Seventy four degrees does feel like the surface of the sun when there's no shade and just black asphalt ahead. I powered through--a whopping 30 minutes of shoe-shuffling goodness.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I have committed to living in the present, just like dogs do (thanks Cesar Milan!). Here are my resolutions:

1. Run more.
2. Schedule runs with my peeps.
3. Remember that stressful times are when I need to run, not cancel a run.
4. Track my runs (mileage, time and shoes).
5. Be nicer to my husband (hard to believe, but I've been a real horse's ass to Michael).

Now onto more pleasant topics. My dog, Goose, must have eaten a corn cob three weeks ago. It rolled around in her stomach for awhile and then last Friday finally lodged in her intestine. Two x-rays, one ultrasound, three phone calls, one stomach/intestinal surgery and two million dollars later, Goose is good as new. Thanks to me, her nursemaid. She got three different medications with different dosages at different times of day. I had to carry her up and down the stairs. And at first, had to feed her every three to four hours. Not such Good Times(tm).

(an oldie but a goodie...caught mid-sneeze)

And finally, Penn State is looking really good. That game was epic and I enjoyed every last minute of it. Now, the Eagles are a different story, but I'm still not worried. If we had had Brian Westbrook last night we would have killed those stupid Bears. And Kyle Orton? Are you kidding me?

My baby is walking and wears a 5.5 double wide shoe.

Nut up!

So last night, Michael, Jeffy and I were watching NFL highlights. Michael and I have resumed our losing ways at Fantasy Football (even though, we had 141 points on our effing bench yesterday) and wanted to catch up on the day's events.

So at the end of the Denver San Diego game, Denver was down by one point after scoring a touchdown. So, what do they do...kick the extra point and send it into overtime? Or go for two and win the game. Well, they went for two and won the game (bad call notwithstanding)...anyhoo, we're talking about this and Michael says "Sometimes you have to nut up and go for it."

And the Nut Up Conversation ensued. First, I asked both of them if men really use that phrase. And they told me yes, men use that phrase. So I decided I was going to try and use it in every day conversations. Especially with my clients. Here's how I see it working out:

Client: Hey Sarah, can you turn around a crappy outline for us in three hours?

Me: Well, I guess if I nut up, I can do that. Sure thing!

Sound good? I can't wait to move that phrase into every conversation possible.

Today I actually did nut up and went for a run with the wonderful Amber. We did a little Forest Park loop of about 35 minutes. I had to walk some because I couldn't nut up on the hills, but all in all, it felt great to take the new shoes for a spin.

In other news, I missed my first deadline of all time..meaning, I totally forgot about a project and just didn't do it. I don't think that's every happened to me. I mean, I've tried to get out of deadlines and have gotten them moved, but totally spacing a project. Geez, I need to nut up and run some more to keep my head clear.

And one last thing....da da da da..........

GO E A G L E S !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Bitch is Back!

Hellllllllllllllllllloooooooooo! Holy cow, it's just been way too long right?

So, today was the second "real" run since going to PA for a month.

I DID NOT RUN ONE TIME while in Pennsylvania.

You all know me. You know what happens when crazy people like me don't get the standard amount of endorphins per day. That's right. I almost killed my nearing-70 year old parents and set their house on fire.

Anyhoo, today I slogged along and felt pretty good about just getting out there and knocking it out. On the last stretch, my fucking IT band (which has not been exercised in over a month and a half) decided to act out...on flat surfaces nonetheless. I hate that bitch. I really do.

So after the run I felt great, took a shower, had lunch with my peeps at a Middle Eastern restaraunt over here on the west side (Poll question: gauche to eat Middle Eastern food on 9/11? Talk amongst yourselves. Poll question #2: gauche to ask if it is gauche to eat Middle Eastern food on 9/11? If so, shut the hell up.) and then hit up the Portland Running Company. I wanted to see if my gait changed since having the second baby. Maybe that's why I've had runners' knee and IT band issues etc.

Where I found out that a) my gait has not changed. I am still running perfection with my neutral gait...did you know that only 10% of runners have a neutral stride? That's right. Jealous much? I thought so. I digress. b) My old shoes were toast and contributing to the leg problems.

So I bought these bad asses:


The Gel Nimbus 10 for $120! Good lord these suckers better post some good numbers for that kind of money. The sweetest, nicest lady on the planet helped me get my shoes. She has two girls 18 months apart and was kind enough to let me know that in two years, things will be a lot better. I can't say "She should suck it" because she was so nice and made me feel like I wasn't crazy for having nervous breakdown days even though I do employ a nanny.

So go to PRC and buy shoes.

And here are the top ten (abbreviated) stories from my PA/NJ shore trip:

1. Bringing the world's worst stomach virus from Portland to Lebanon, PA via an airplane. Got sick the day before (thanks to the Children's Museum!), had to have oxygen on the plane. Didn't eat for four days. Lost five pounds. Gave the virus to both my parents. My mother cried. We all almost died. Moral: quarantine children a week before heading on a plane.
2. Visiting the Lebanon Farm Show every morning for a week. Owen's favorite question: "Going to see cows and pigs?" Saw some enormous cows, pigs, coats, bunnies and sheep.
3. Eating shoo-fly pie. Do a web search. It's some good stuff.
   
4. Going to Hersheypark and killing a 10-year old at Whack a Mole. Owen and my dad appreciated the victory dance.
5. The joy that is Blue's Clues. The songs are still stuck in my head right now.
6. Hearing the word "yous" used in serious conversations. ALL THE TIME. I'm not kidding. For example: what are yous doing tonight? Are yous getting pizza?
   
7. Michael's face when we took him to the Wildwood Boardwalk. Shellshocked didn't begin to describe it. Until you've experienced the white trash goodness that is Wildwood, you haven't lived.
8. Bargaining with a Ukranian young lady in the Wildwood t-shirt shop over a Philadelphia Eagle's t-shirt that reads "BLEED GREEN." I got it for 12 bucks.
   
9. The pizza on the east coast. Fantastic. Papa Murphy's?? Whatever.
   
10. Ripping off the side mirror of my rental car thanks to the banister on the shore house deck. 200 dollars later? Good as new!

Whew. That's it for right now. More as I begin my looooong trek back to becoming a runner.

P.S. Would it be possible to have a better football weekend than last week? Penn State kills the Beavers on national TV, Eagles roll in a blow out (and we have McNabb in fantasy), plus something else that I won't mention because I guess it's not nice to say you're happy about an injury to another human being but you all know what I'm talking about. Good times.

Whew. That Was Close.

So, I've been running, had a three day hiatus there during the fourth of July week. Nothing funny/interesting has happened.

Although no need to fear if you wondered what has happened to my real personality.

It only took one visit to the zoo on a late Sunday afternoon to reaffirm my hatred of people. Larger people walking three wide asking each other who has the chapstick while the world's biggest bottleneck formed behind them was enough to do it. Good times(tm). Michael refused to run them over with the stroller.

That's it from here. T-minus ten days until the Plane Ride From Hell and descent into the Amish Kingdom. Can't wait!

P.S. the Elf is with child.

It's Nice to Be Nice

So, a weird thing happened today on my run. I actually made an effort to talk to another runner.

What have I become? Seriously?!! I hate people. They're the worst.

But let's back up to last night where this nicey niceness all started. My neighbor mommy friend invited me to a book club. Now, this woman is probably the nicest woman you've met, and if she hadn't made a huge effort to befriend me, I'd still be pining away for the East side and the Winco on 82nd and the wonderful mall shopping at the Crack in Your Ass Town Centre, but I digress.

So I'm at the book club meeting (I brought my own list of books I wanted to read. That's how I roll.) and I get to meet the old owner of my house. Now first of all, that's weird but cool at the same time. But get this! She's totally my type of people--meaning: smart, funny, bookish, SHE RUNS, and she even said....[wait for it] "that sucks ass." I had to hold myself back from giving her a bone-crushing hug.

Case closed. I will stalk her and make her be my running partner and new best friend. I've been so starved for real personality over here (not that the neighbor lady doesn't have a personality, but there's no eff bombs coming from that side of the street, if you catch my drift) . So there's my first new friend. And a postscript: she emailed me today to see if I wanted to run this afternoon. Alas, I had already run. I had that feeling like when you're in college and you're totally drunk and you give your number to a cute guy and he calls and you see him again and he's still cute and actually nice. Actually, that's never happened to me, but if I had to imagine, that's what it would feel like.

Rack it.

So then, today, I went for a hood run and down at the OES track was a woman running with a stroller. I cruise up behind her, say hello and then proceed to run and talk with the woman for a mile! Isn't that the most bizarre thing ever? I talked to someone and ran with them and then I got her email information for future runs. She's an urban planner even. I've never met one of those!

So there you have it. The nasty old nag is trying to make friends. Is it because I'm getting older? Is it because I've got the kids? Who knows, but it might not be so bad. Total disclaimer: this doesn't mean I still don't hate people, especially stupid little bitches that run in an all pink outfit with a pink iPod and a pink VISOR. Like, a GOLF VISOR. Ew.

Until tomorrow when Shaunmarie and I attempt my first long run in many moons. Six to eight up on Germantown. Also, dying to see Kara Goucher pull out the 10,000m win tonight. Good times(TM).

I Think I Have Shit

That is perhaps the best Run Report title of all time, and I've had some good ones. By this I mean, I think I have mentally moved past the "injuries." I decided that I'm just going to run every day unless I feel like I really need to take a day off, or work prohibits me from running. The legs aren't 100% but I think taking too many days off is hurting rather than helping. So I'm going to run, baby, run!

So:

• Ran 4.5 miles today in the hood. After several hours of overcast, gorgeous, perfect running weather, the sun came out just as I got going. Remember my one Run Report titled: "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes?" Right. Legs felt good. Nothing funny happened.
• Yesterday (Wednesday)...rest day. Was planning to run. The day got away from me.
• Tuesday: ran with Shaunmarie on an actual trail at Tryon Creek Park. Elf and I usually ran on the asphalt path, not an actual dirt trail. The hills were huge and we walked a lot. Better than nothing, that's what I say.
• Monday: ran on the trail at Forest Park. Felt fucking fantastic. Burned up the first portion of the run and felt strong throughout.

Plan on running tomorrow and will try for a LONG RUN on Saturday. For sure. That means six or seven miles. Nothing crazy, but it will be epic.

So, not sure you all know this, but the baby had undescended testicles, and I love posting pictures of the scars of testicle surgery. The men seem to really love it. They attach those suckers with buttons. I shit you not:

Behold....NSFW...

OUCH!

"I Feel Like Bacon"

I told Shaunmarie and Jeffy last Sunday that it was time for me to shit or get off the pot with this whole "injury" thing. So either I make an effort through PT, self-massage, cross training, etc. or I just run through the pain and shut the hell up. I mean, I'm used to beating myself up but this is enough already.

The aforementioned running duo and I did a little Esplanade route on Sunday morning with an little Broadway Bridge tacked on. Legs? Ok, but felt like I was running in deep sand.

Monday I ran in the hood for about 44 minutes, and felt so good about my legs and no hurting that I almost uttered the words "I'm cured!" But even though I didn't say them, I thought them and that's fucking good enough for the Gods (we're watching Rome. Whew, there was a lot of violence and sex back then. A lot of knives right through the ol' throat. That's my kind of living!).

Tuesday I took off. Wednesday I ran in Forest Park and had the nagging hamstring pain that threatened to explode so I only ran about 30 minutes. I was proud of myself to listen to the pain.
Thursday I took off, even though I didn't want to.

Today, Friday, I went running at 1:00pm. I must think I'm some sort of badass to run a non-shaded route on asphalt in the middle of the day. I was baking. I'd forgotten how heat just drains a person of energy. I blame it on the documentary I watched two weeks ago--Running on the Sun...all about the Badwater 135 mile run through Death Valley that ascends a mere 8000 feet. Those people are nutty. Seriously, running in 116 degrees without sleep for 28 hours? Holy crap. I guess I figured I could tackle good ol PDX in 75 degrees in June. PDX 1, Me 0.

So halfway through as I'm running around the BLACK track (don't you love the smell and feel of a track that's been baking in the sun? I could lay down and just take a big ol' whiff of that smell, I love it so bad). I said to myself: "I feel like bacon."

Then I had to do a whole deconstruction of it...how I was like bacon (getting fried...usually has a lot of fat around the edges that some people like and some people burn off) and how I wasn't like bacon (it's a great tasting food and I'm pretty bitter when bitten into), you know the usual heat addled stuff.

So I cut the run short and headed home. Took the baby to the doctor--bronchitis. Sweet!

Do the Hippy Shake Shake

Instead of going for a run with the girl I don't know, I decided to treat myself and my friend Renee to massages. It's her birthday and I want my legs back to normal. I had a "deep tissue" or "sports massage." They should just take the word 'massage' out of this description and maybe call it a treatment or something. Because it was not relaxing, hurt a whole lot and really showed me how fucked up my muscles are. Speaking of...

Let me introduce you to...

The Quadratus Lumborum. Little did I know about this strange muscle, but it is responsible for hip motion and it can definitely bring the hip out of alignment which causes a tight IT band, tight quads, tight hamstrings and a resulting runner's knee. I have never had anyone touch or try to massage this area. So imagine my surprise when I almost flew off the table when my cute little masseuse touched it. Ouch. It also causes lower back pain.

In fact, thank all the muscles around the hip, because they're all responsible: the pirformis, the psoas, the gluteus minimus andthe tensor fascia latae. Fuck all you bitches.


By the time I'm running 10 miles I may also have a degree in anatomy. I do still have some pain in my knee, but I am not giving up on this self treatment. My little Elf wants me to go to PT but I'm going to wait and see what happens after I drink water (gasp! what a fucking concept! give water to the muscles and maybe they'll feel better. I'm retarded) and stretch (another foreign concept! agh!).

I'm on the road to recovery, friends.

Cutest babies ever(TM)

RUN LNG

Today I ran. I ran in Forest Park for the second consecutive day. I've identified the cause of my running depression--injuries. The runner's knee is bad...kneecap hurts most of the day and especially when walking down stairs or running after Owen in a nursery environment. The back of the knee also hurts which prohibits me from sitting Indian-style (Ben, is that un-PC? I'm serious. Let me know) or kneeling, which is not good when dealing with two munchins. I've also developed some slight hamstring pain in both legs.

So during the first half of yesterday's run I held myself a pity party, and surprisingly enough, no one attended. Last night I got serious with my trigger point therapy and am happy to report a decrease in pain, although it is still there. My inability to reach running nirvana is depressing, but I can't just wallow in it anymore.

The biggest problem is that I want to go for long distances and go over 10 miles. That's when I feel the greatest sense of accomplishment and endorphins. These piddly 35 to 40 minute JOGS drive me batty sometimes.

So.

I am running through the pain. I will get a massage and continue strenuous trigger point therapy (the shit is for real, yo. I'm not kidding.) for my back, legs and knee. I will take control of my own running destiny (cue the Rocky music please).

After I churned out my (slow) run on the trail today, I was driving home and the license plate on the car in front of me read: RUN LNG. And I thought, "Ok, you bastard. I will run long. And I will like it."

Random notes:

• Today is day one of operation bathing suit. Why didn't I start yesterday? Well, because I had to bake chocolate chip cookies to take over to the new neighbor to welcome her and also tell her the fucking German Shepherd that has been visiting her had taken TWO shits on my front lawn. Nice.
• Tomorrow I am running with a person I DON'T EVEN KNOW. She is a friend of my neighbor mommy friend. Get this: she's shorter than me. Totally. She will kick my ass on the trail, but you know what? I don't even care!
• I am taking the boys to the East Coast for one month this summer and I'm already having nightmares about the flight.
  
• I read a great running book: Strides by Benjamin Cheever. Very cute. I'm also re-reading Once a Runner...trying to get my groove back, you know.
  

They Really Don't Melt in Your Hands

Sometimes I get sad because of the running. Or lack there of. When I think back to me in my running prime--before the babies, before the new house, before the freelancing life--I get a little misty. Running every day at lunch with peeps, either on the Esplanade or the trail and then getting up at the crack to do a little long run on Germantown Road where I had many adventures. Now, I'm still injured and have given up hope on the 1/2 marathon and even the full marathon. I am not in "race" mode. I am in survival mode.

My hamstring was sore for weeks. About 30 to 35 minutes into a run I'd have to call it quits because I refuse to ignore signals from my body anymore.

Tangent: Funny I should say that because sometimes it is important to ignore signals from your body. Like the ones it sends at 9:04 pm when you're watching Lost from the night before and the signals are all "hey, you should totally go eat that entire bag of miniature M&Ms that you said you bought for potty-training rewards. " And, when I say "bag" I don't mean an M&M's bag from the actual candy company. I mean a nice plastic grocery bag that you use when you're buying candy IN BULK from Winco. Oh yes, I did. The whole bag. Spread out over four nights, but yes, it is gone. The guilt was so bad that when I heard Michael coming up from the basement, I stuffed the whole bag in the couch cushions so he wouldn't know. So, in terms of potty training: I bought a potty. Got some pull up diapers. Bought some foaming hand soap and a ginormous bag of candy for treats. The candy is now gone and no one has gone pee pee in the potty.

Anyhoo, back to the leg issues. The hamstring was bad. As of today, it's finally better. No nagging pain. But the other problem is the runner's knee in the other leg. And that, my friends, is a pain in the rear end. Why? Like the IT band injury, runner's knee plays a sick, sick joke and only hurts when you're running down hill or walking downstairs. Isn't that hilarious?? Hahahahah! I love it! My book tells me that runner's knee happens when the quads are weak or full of muscle spasms.

So I realized today when I was running on my trail (after MONTHS of not running on it), that these are the reasons I've developed this injury:

1. Going out too hard after a long lay off
2. Running on hard streets with bad cambers (I think I made that word up, but I like it)
3. Running solely on flat, hard streets with bad cambers with no hills

When I was running regularly on the trail, replete with its many hills, my quads were strong. The IT band was a bitch, but no runner's knee for sure. So, back to the trail. Even though there are too many annoying people on the trail when it's nice like this. I'll take a muddy, goopy trail any day of the week, as long as I don't have to see another person.

Finally, let's talk about Ann Taylor, who is really a raving bitch. I went shopping because I have no summer clothes. Let's just say I was ecstatic to find I *thought* I was back to size fours. So ecstatic I gave myself permission to indulge in the M&Ms some more. Anyhoo, I got home and dug through the clothes that are banished to the storage room because they're too small. I mean, I have tons of fours in there, they must fit now, right? No way in hell. Because Ann Taylor has decided it's funny to size her clothes in such a way that women feel better about themselves. Then these women go home and get suicidal when old clothes that are the SAME size from the SAME store purchased two years ago don't fit worth a damn.

The end. I'm embarking on Operation Bathing suit for our trip downa shore coming up here in August. It's not fun or pretty. The end again.

Prepping for his trip to the land of pretzels.

Moon Over My Hammy

So I've got so many things to tell you about, but first and foremost, I am sick to hear about Prince's performance at Coachella over the weekend. So he brought out Morris Day and Jerome to do "Jungle Love" and Sheila E to do Glamorous Life. !!! And if that's not enough he pulls out my two all time faves: Little Red Corvette and 7. And then he covers Radiohead's Creep (crazy) and of course tops it all off with Purple Rain. Makes the Portland Show with the two Stacey's look so tame. I love that little man. (again, anyone having a copy of my Prince Report from many years ago, please send it. I'll pay you 2 bucks). There are tons of videos on YouTube but none contain audio. It's KILLING me.

My running suffered another set back as I tore up my hamstrings earlier in the week after trying to be a superstar and run that 8 minute mile. My hamstring on my left leg hurt so much I could barely walk or use the clutch in my car. This is obviously a result of taking way too much time off and then coming back way too hard, too fast. I also developed runner's knee in the right leg.

So, I turn to my trusty "Pain Free Runner." People. This book is the shit. Period. It's all about trigger points and working the stuff out on your own. Pain in your legs and knees is all coming from muscle spasms in your butt, back and quads. That's all there is to it. Go to this message board if you ever have an ache or pain you need help with.

I bought a three pack of tennis balls. I rolled my ass on those balls (nice!) for hours over the weekend, and it fixed things right up in about a day. I was able to run on Saturday and Sunday with about 75% less pain than the day before. I'm a believer, big time.

Hopefully this will help me stay on track with the running and the stalled weight loss. It's so ironic that as soon as I have a good run and am excited to get back to it, I hurt myself and then get depressed I can't run. So stupid.

And finally, the Eagles. The most talked about pick was WR Desean Jackson from Cal. He's TINY at 5'10 and 170 pounds. We'll use him for kick returns. BORING.

Hell Freezes Over

Why? Two runs in two days, that's why! Unbelievable how far I have fallen from my previous devotion to running. It's just way too easy to say "NO RUN." Work, kids, life, TV.

Can we please talk about one show? The Real Housewives of New York City? Oh my god. Crack cocaine anyone? Ok, my favorite dialog from the last show. The big obnoxious strawberry blonde wife is talking about how she doesn't understand "Girls' Night Out." She says that whatever girls need to talk about she can talk about with her husband there.

She says: "Vibrators? So what? Just plug 'em in and go!" Cut to another wife who says: "Plug it in? What are we in, 1970?" Good vibrator times(TM).

Anyhoo, I digress. Sunday Jeffy and I ran the Esplanade, and I have to say, we killed it. I took inventory during the run of all my body parts, and they all came back with a unanimous thumbs up. And yet again I wonder why I skip the runs all the time.

I ran today in the hood and I totally have runner's knee in my right knee and a very stiff left hamstring. I used the foam roller and the stick, but we'll see. During my run I wondered how a person who runs once a week can have so many injuries.

Prideful moment of the day: my neighborhood run usually includes running a mile on the OES track (who, by the way, I now hate as they kicked my son and baby sitter off their wooden play gym during the day WHEN NO ONE WAS EVEN ON IT AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE SCHOOL. Obviously I'm writing them a letter. Stupid Episcopaleous bastards. ) Anyway, sometimes I like to push it on the mile to see how fast I can really run a mile without dying, and today I'm happy to report that I logged an 8:15 minute mile. Elf inspired me. But I will never be as good as the Elf. I'm coming to terms with that.

And that's it from the West Side.

The cuteness hurts sometimes.

"Good Day For It"

So, I had great intentions to write all about my runs last week, because, some were just epic. Let's review:

Sunday--Don't Call It A Comeback Trail Run
Great run with Jeffy in Forest Park. I felt great. I told myself that two weeks off was a drop in the bucket and I should do it more often! See previous run report.

Monday--Speed Work Day
So I met Shaunmarie (SM) at the Lincoln Track and quickly realized that trying to do speedwork while 17,023 elementary school children are being taught "track" was not the best idea (SM's by the way). SM seemed intent on it, so we ran one warm up lap and then one "speed" 400 and we were practically run over by the herd of children. Not to mention I almost turned to stone when one of the "teachers" (with the worst highlights on the planet...really, if you're brunette and want blonde highlights, make sure you have a good hairdresser. Tiny streaks of peroxide blonde and GREY really does nothing for you. Bitch.) gave me the Medusa look from Clash of the Titans. So that was speed work, day one.

Tuesday--THE WORST RUN EVER AFTER BABY #2 (TM)
I'm not sure how to explain how horrific this run was. First, it was probably the least scenic route I've ever taken, and the most dangerous. We started at SM's gym off Karman Drive (the freeway!) and about 83% of the road travelled didn't have sidewalks and SM is the type of person who thinks she'll never get pancaked by a car so she tried to run double decker. GOOD LORD woman! I was terrified half the time and sucking carbon monoxide the other half.

At the 8:13 minute mark I decided that I'd had enough. But SM had taken us on the 6-mile route and "didn't know how to do the 3-mile route!" Jesus! So we walked about 234 times so I could just make the run even longer. I felt so crappy--just tired (baby's getting molars and not sleeping) and fighting the cold-that-wouldn't-die. We finally finished in 55 minutes and 342 snot rockets later.

Tangent: I enjoy the snot rocket so much I want to do it at home. It would save a lot of kleenex. Yesterday I took Owen to the Zoo and I had to stop myself at least twice from just snot rocketing on the path. I mean, I had my finger covering my nostril. Just keeping it real.

Wednesday--Be Kind to Yourself Trail Run
I parked at a different trailhead so I wouldn't encounter killer hills at the end of the workout. I went as slow as I wanted and tried desperately to think positively. It wasn't bad. It wasn't good.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday--Make as Many Excuse as Possible Not To Run

1. Needed a day off.
   
2. Knee felt tweaky.
3. Too much work to do.
   
4. Knee still felt tweaky.
5. Allergy medicine knocked me out. Need to nap.
6. TOO HOT! I can't run in this STIFLING HEAT!
7. Could it be runner's knee?

Sunday--Good Day For It!
Yes it was. Practically perfect as I ran 45 minutes in the hood without too much knee pain. And it's always nice to get a "Good day for it" from a perfect stranger as I'm sucking wind going up a hill.

Here's to another week!

The First Cut is the Deepest

Hello. My name is Sarah and I am once again a runner.

Two weeks off due to sickness, weather, windows and apathy. But there's no turning back when you have a willing running partner who always pumps you up and is supportive. The running partner is key. I'm going to try and rope someone in to at least two of my runs per week.

So Jeffy and I went up to Forest Park (side note: got my little Forest Park Conservancy car sticker and newsletter where my name is proudly displayed as a supporter. And they sent me two pages with the entire Forest Park trail system. I'm going to laminate it. It's so much nicer than having to squint at my little box set. Anyway, go and give them some money. It's tax deductible. Someone's gotta keep that shit up.)

Anyhoo, as an omen I got the new Runner's World yesterday with all their Boston crappola. I get the Boston Marathon thing. I do. But sometimes I want to say "HEY! Shut up already, Boston Marathon. The Red Sox have won the World Series and the Patriots are still a big pain in the ass, so could you please not make such a fucking big deal out of yourself with your Heartbreak Hill and your college girls and your Patriots Day and your noon start and all that crap?"
That said, if I ever realize my dream of running faster than 9 minute miles, I would die to run it.

Today Jeffy and I ran the archery range to Magnolia back to Wildwood loop. It's typically a 32 minute run. And it was again today, which made me very happy. I felt strong, I didn't want to kill myself and I made it up the last set of hills. I'm back in the saddle and devoted to losing these last 10 pounds and running the Helvetia Half.

So, another resolution is to post every run if possible. It's a new year over here and please, if you want to run and need a partner. Let me know.

The Shame!

Email received this morning:

From: Frank
To: Sarah

Subject: thanks

Thanks for the recent run report. It made my day! I really enjoy re-reading runs from 6 weeks ago!

OUCH. Oh my god, OUCH, Frank!

Jesus.

Needless to say things have been a little squirrely over here at Chez Gifford. This week we're having windows installed in the entire house, and here's what we're dealing with:

• 12 windows
• 5 window guys
• 1 sick 2 year old with ear and eye infection (GOOD TIMES[tm]) and no naps for three days
  
• 1 ten month old who has learned to bite
• 1 disgruntled husband spending spring break on baby duty
• 2 dogs eager to help install windows
• 1 lazy, fat-ass mommy who dares call herself a runner when she hasn't been running in over 7 days

Now, Michael has taken the brunt of all this. I've been able to stay home and "supervise" and get a ton of work done without two monkeys hanging off me, biting my shoulder and saying "mommy" or "what's that?" two thousand times every minute. It's actually been kind of nice. I think Michael has a new understanding of what it's like caring for them and trying to work and do everything else.

Last weekend we stayed in Lincoln City and gambled and ate and blended in with the white trash a little too easily. Sorry to anyone who calls Lincoln City home or regularly vacations there. It is white trash paradise. Throw in some outlets and antique stores and I was in hog heaven! I played bingo for three hours! And blackjack! It was a great way to celebrate the old birthday. I also ate a hamburger that had blue cheese on it. Good God. The scale is moving in the wrong direction, obviously.

Running: yes, it's been a little off, but starting this weekend, I'm back. Last time I took off seven days, it actually was awesome coming back. I kicked ass on the trail and ran into an old acquaintance, which allowed me and Jeffy to rest on the hills. I felt like a dog that hadn't been walked in two weeks. It was awesome. I've also been doing a lot of road running which is killing my legs.

PSA: Shaunmarie and I are starting track workouts on Mondays around 6 or 630 (I think...) at Lincoln High. Everyone knows these suck, but doing them with other people is great.

So there's the quick and dirty.

Kill Em All

So I did run on Wednesday and because I was too lazy to write a post, it's my favorite cop out, the bulleted list:

• The run did totally kick my ass.
• I got complimented on my new shoes by two ladies who lunch. I told them they were brand new and they said "not for long!" and I thought "that's the point, fatties! Get to running!" Ouch. I'm awful.
• Again with the dogs. Two off-leash golden retrievers almost took my legs out. After they passed, the owner kept telling them to HEEL. Here's the thing: heel DOES NOT WORK. You can tell me all day that your dogs can heel. I have a nice big fat squirrel and a big fat T-bone that says your dog won't heel when you need it to. They're descended from WOLVES, people. Anything can distract them, especially on a trail. So knock it the fuck off with this heel bullshit.
• Weird people with dogs. My favorite combination. This guy had FIVE dogs off-leash on the narrow trail--a ST. BERNARD, two labs, a jack russel and some other mutt. My favorite line: "They're friendly!" Well guess what asshole, I am totally not friendly and I'm going to kick your dog in the face, except that you look like the unabomber, so next time, when I have my mace, I'll mace you and your little dog too.
  
• I felt like I had smoked ten packs of cigarettes right before running. I reminisced about a little back and forth Coach and I had during my very first Shamrock Run when I told him I had no lung capacity. And then he said if I could say lung capacity...and then I clocked him.

Today I ran (don't ask my why I skipped yesterday. I'm a shell of my former runner self.). And it was gorgeous, as you all know. It was a bit breezy and I could feel the wind ruffling my leg hair. Good times(TM). I did a quick 43 minutes and was glad I did.

I am five pounds away from posting before and after pictures. You'll want to tune in for that. Because geez, imagine 163 pounds on a five foot tall frame. It's so not pretty.

Oh, forgot to mention one thing about my trail run...about seven people passed me running mob deep. I again reminisced about our old Via runs. And I am so sad that I am running one person deep. It's so not fun. I miss those times but thankfully they were so awesome that I will never, ever forget them. However, if someone doesn't step up and try to become a running partner, I will kill em all (that's actually a Metallica album. Not their best one, obviously [Master], but I do like saying that).

This is for my Benji:





And this is the baby:

Suck City

About two and a half weeks ago I came down with a sinus infection and boy, did I act like I had a man cold. In retrospect, I probably wasn't even closed to dying, but having to sleep while breathing through your mouth is definitely a layer of hell. So at the time I came down with the infection, weather and laziness had kept me from running for over a week. By the time I got the antibiotics working and felt good enough to brave the outdoors, I had not run for TWO WEEKS. The guilt.

So I went out and did three runs: one on the trail (sucked) and two in my neighborhood. The one I made a conscious effort to run faster and probably ran a minute per mile faster than usual. I felt on top of the world!

Enter the tickle in the throat last Monday. I told Michael about it, and true to form, he informs me that he has bronchitis (he loves the self diagnosis). Needless to say by Monday night we were both pretty sick...Michael especially, but I thought I could be strong for the family.

Tuesday and Wednesday were sick days for Michael and we both were running fevers and coughing. The boys seemed to be fine. Thursday I went to a client meeting, probably infected the entire office (sorry Coach), came home and slept while I had the sitter. Thursday night Oliver didn't sleep well. A foreshadowing. Friday I went to the doctor to get more antibiotics. Then came home and slept for five hours while I had the sitter.

Saturday through yesterday: both babies got very sick. Oliver started running a fever on Saturday morning...102 that promptly escalated to 104 by the afternoon. The doctor told me to go to the ER. Obviously there was nothing they could do except let me know I wasn't giving enough Tylenol. DOH. Anyhoo, after 1000 doses of Tylenol and Motrin both boys seem to be getting better.

(Not going into details because I might claw my eyes out remembering, but dealing with a two year old that doesn't feel well is akin to rolling the stone up the hill all day or getting your innards poked out by birds all day or standing in water while you're dying of thirst and not being able to bend down and take a drink. I SHIT YOU NOT, people. Between the howling, the holding, the hitting, the throwing and the banging of the head, I almost had a nervous breakdown).

And this people is why I hate February. And this is why I may have to bring back "Sarah's Songs: The February Mix tape."

Today a run is planned. Check back for details of a brutal ass kicking.

At Long Last...Online Maps of Forest Park

Look what I found today. These are super sweet. I can't wait to print them.

Detailed maps of Forest Park!

Haven't run since Friday which is a record since I started my come back. I actually told Michael that I want it to rain so it warms up. I'd much rather run in warm(er) rain than in this freezing cold headwind crappola. I am a baby and I'm not feeling well. But come rain or shine I'm running tomorrow, Friday and a long run with Shaunmarie and Jennifer (an old Vian! who already ran the Boston Marathon...more on her in the Run Report from this coming Saturday I'm sure!)

Shaunmarie and I did run on Friday afternoon at Tryon State Park...an old route that Elf and I used to run. I told SM that Elf would be jealous. It's a pretty hilly pain in the ass route, but it's nice and paved. We held a pretty good pace and SM was sure to compliment my pace even though it wasn't fast.

The funniest thing was SM wearing a wool scarf while we ran. She is a hoot, that one.

What Have You Done Today To Make You Feel Proud?

So I've been doing a lot of road running in the Compton Hood over here on the WEST side. Shaunmarie and I were scheduled for a long run up at Germantown Road on Saturday. But lo and behold people kept calling to say they were coming over to visit and watch the football game. So we had an impromptu "Seahawks Get Their Ass Kicked in the Snow" party.

So the long run was off, but I still managed to get in four miles before anyone got here. It felt good, but I can totally tell that my legs are not enjoying the hard asphalt and cement. So, I wore my Donovan McNabb jersey as I realized it was probably going to be one of the last times I could wear it while he is still an Eagle. I got some very nice comments on my weight loss (I've trained my friends to tell me it looks like I lost weight. It's a bad habit I've gotten in to. I need validation, people!) and then decided to gorge myself, because I had just run. My favorite thing to eat? The port wine "cheese food" that comes in a little tub, is bright orange and has some purpleness to it. That shit is the bomb. I ate that and artichoke dip and another hot dip and nuts and beer. Holy cow it was gluttony at its finest.

Then yesterday I had one of the best runs ever. I ran in the hood again. Usually this run contains some track running down at the ol' Oregon Episcopal School. Well yesterday there was some sort of lacrosse thing going on and there was no way I was going to run in front of high schoolers and spectators. So I figured out how to get to the Montclair Elementary school wood-chipped path.

This is where it all began in late June when I started my post partum, weight loss, running journey. I would hike up my ol' maternity shorts (a nice cotton number that fit like bike shorts with a belly panel) and my Grateful Dead t-shirt from 1988 [LA in the velodrome] that I stole from an ex-boyfriend (this thing is ancient. You can totally see through it it's so threadbare...but it was the only thing that fit me) and run a 14 minute mile. Just one mile because that's all I could do. And I ran almost every day in the noon day sun, singing the Biggest Loser theme song and telling myself that come Christmas it would all be worth it.

So yesterday as I'm running around that path like I own it without worrying about the slight grade that had previously killed me every single run, I realized it was worth it. And I was again proud to be a runner. Because, I thought, not everyone can be a runner. And then I thought, yes they can. Because if I could go from a pack-a-day fat smoker to running as much as I do now, ANYONE can do it. We just like to thing we're part of a special breed. But that's really not true.

I am TOTALLY digressing now. Anyhoo. It was a great run of 6.25 miles in 1 hour. Here's Oliver with his first zwieback toast experience.

Nothing New

Well, day four of Operation No Baby Sitter Week and things are going better than expected. We've managed to get out of the house every day and there haven't been any tears from me. I went for a run in Forest Park yesterday and nothing exciting happened. My runs have become stale and I don't feel myself improving at all. It's time to kick it up a notch and start some speed training or something. I did see my money at work though. A huge tree had fallen over into the ravine, and it's roots were causing a mess on the trail. Two days later a nice path with gravel had been put down.

Two more things to mention about my Pennsylvania trip. Zoo America (the "zoo" attached to Hershey Park) is a rip off. It costs 8.50 per person and the most exciting animals are three bison. They do have three black bears but keep them confined to a tiny little space. Owen's favorite thing to do was feed the ducks some corn kernels.

Take a close look at this picture:


Yes, your mother of the year put his shoes on the wrong feet. I couldn't figure out why he wanted me to carry him all over the place. When I finally figured it out and exclaimed as much to my sister in law. She said: "Yeah. I noticed that." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's all I'm going to say about that.

I am perhaps the most boring person on the planet. Send me emails. I'm dying over here.

The Plane Flights

A two year old. An eight month old. A husband. And two 5 hour plus plane rides. Should be good times. At the start of our journey, I wasn't too frenzied as I really thought that the boys would sleep during the entire direct flight to Philly. After all, the plane took off at 10:30pm, they'd be tired and we had three seats so Owen could lay down.

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

The first stupid thing I did was buy a stupid fucking harness thing online so Owen wouldn't have to sit in his car seat. Only after we got home did I realize that there is actually no need for a harness, a car seat or even a freaking seat belt. If the plane goes down, we're all DEAD! Dead, dead, dead. I'm retarded.

So after an hour and a half in the airport, where Owen ran around in his feeted pajamas, which was very cute, they announced that people who needed extra time, like those of us with small children could board first. Great idea in theory. Bad in reality. Why? Because the stupid bitches with the microphones give us two minutes to gather our shit, get four gate tickets for the car seats and strollers (which they REFUSED to give me ahead of time for whatever stupid reason) and put the tickets on the stuff. By the time we were walking down the gangplank, half the plane was already passing us or onboard. Thanks assholes! The only good thing is that I didn't feel guilty banging people in the head with my diaper bag as I went down the aisle.

So, we set up shop in row 22. Owen has a slight meltdown about the harness but Michael and I deal with it and he's happy as a clam. (Quick side note: I changed our seats two weeks before the flight because we were in the last row [no reclination]. But I couldn't get all our seats together. So I got another aisle seat five rows up and figured switching an aisle for an aisle wouldn't be a big deal). The woman who I believe is in our row comes up, I explain the situation, and she agrees to switch although the look on her face is really bizarre. I get pissed.

Now, two geezers come up to our row and tell us that we're in their seats. They have the aisle seat in our row and the aisle seat across the aisles. Weird, I think. Something is not right! Michael looks at me and through gritted teeth says: "Give me the boarding passes." I pull them out and lo and behold, we're in the wrong row!!! HAHAHAHAHAH!

Let's review:

1. Owen hated getting the harness on, but is now OK with it.
2. I've switched seats with a woman who I thought was in our row but was actually not in our row.
   
3. Two geezers are hovering above us and want their damn aisle seats.

I obviously am now sweating and on the verge of tears. We have to get Owen out of the harness, move all my bags and accouterments, including a 20 pound baby up a row while the aisles is fully plugged with Portlanders going to Philadelphia. Not a good scene. I start getting uppity and begin telling people to be patient. I then have to call the stewardess to explain the seat switching debacle.

Owen just wants to be back in the airport running in feeted pajamas and lets me and everyone else on the plane know that by screaming for a good half an hour, forty five minutes. There was absolutely nothing I could do to make him stop.

Yes. We had become "those people with the baby on the plane." Everyone was looking at us. I just put my head down and let him cry. Finally when we got the all clear for electronic devices, we put Elmo in the DVD player and all was well. For an hour. Then I got the two year old bouncing round the aisle seat, screaming NO!, kicking me, the whole nine, people. It was ugly.

FINALLY, I grabbed him, pinned his arms and sang the alphabet song. This quieted him down and I told myself I would sing the alphabet a million, two million times, if necessary. And I did. And he fell asleep. And then he looked like a little angel. And he slept until Philly.

Right before we landed, the guy in the row in front of us looked back and then handed me a square piece of cardboard with a pretty picture on the front and a message on the back. It said that he was a teacher and a film maker and had worked with bright kids and difficult kids. And he knew it was hard. And the last line said: "You're a great parent. Kids are tough. Have a great new year!"

And that made the entire fiasco worth it. But it doesn't mean that I still don't hate people.

Epilogue: after we took Owen off the plane and put him in the stroller to go to baggage claim he screamed bloody murder as we walked through the airport. And I really didn't care.

Home Again Home Again

Whew! So happy to be back on the left coast, people. Get ready for a marathon (pun! snort snort!) of posting, because let me tell you, there were incidents. And there was running. And there was picture taking and of course, some good times(tm) as well.

Running
I ran about half the number of days we were actually there. I ran a very flat 4.2 mile loop about once every two or three days. Michael had to kick me out of the house at least twice. Only one incident with a greyhound and its owner who refused to share the sidewalk. And we did get some snow which made some parts of the route treacherous. Just another reason to live in the Running Capital of the World. I am happy to report that I probably averaged 9:30 minute miles.

I also got running gifts for Christmas:

• The Fuel Belt with two bottles for my long runs: (Side note: my relatives could not seem to wrap their heads around the idea of a "long run" for more than an hour and a half. My cousin, of course, wanted to know how fast I could complete 9 or 10 miles just to see if I could kick her ass. I could). I wore the Fuel Belt around the house on Christmas for a good half an hour. I looked good.
• The Stick, which I have always wanted. Now, with a foam roller and the Stick, there is no reason I can't control my IT band issues.
• Pepper Spray from Michael. This will come in handy when I encounter the bob cats and bears in Forest Park. FYI--the NYPD uses the kind of spray that I got.
  
• A donation in my name to Friends of Forest Park. Michael really came through with this one. You all know I love Forest Park and I'm so glad that we gave money to help them keep up the trail! Really Good Times(tm).

I did run today and yesterday up on the trail. The trail was a bit difficult because I haven't run hills in a long time. But it felt great to be back up there and I finally feel like I'm getting some of my speed back.

Unlike the Elf, I do have resolutions, and most are about running:

1. Stretch after a run. Duh.
2. Do speedwork once a week. Yuck.
3. Run the Shamrock Run, run the Helvetia Half and ultimately train for a marathon this fall.
4. I would LOVE to do the Dirty Half with the Wagers, but we'll have to see.
5. Follow a training plan for those runs.
6. Log distance, times and shoes.
7. Get the Nike Plus system working. Shaunmarie swears by it.
8. Long run every week.
9. Guilt all y'all for not running with me.
   

Antietam
Visiting the Antietam Battlefield was a highlight of our trip. There are a lot of Civil War battlefields close to my parents' home: Gettysburg, Antietam, Harper's Ferry, Manassas. So far Michael and I had only visited Gettysburg. So my parents graciously stayed home to watch the kids and Michael and I drove two hours due south to Antietam, located in Sharpsburg Maryland. (the battle is also known as Sharpsburg).

So this battle has pretty much one huge claim to fame: the bloodiest single-day battle in US history with 23,000 deaths (even more than D-Day).

Having said that, let's say you're in the neighborhood and you have your five, six and nine year old children with you. Why not stop by Antietam and watch the one-hour documentary which shows in graphic detail, the three major parts of the battle, including the crossing of Burnside Bridge where Union soldiers were picked off one by one and left to float in the Antietam creek. I'm sure young children would totally understand and appreciate this wonderful film complete with decaying bodies and skulls and intense hand-to-hand combat.

Seriously, what is wrong with people? And one other thing. Wherever a general was killed on the battlefield there is an upside miniature cannon to mark the dying place. Some idiot parents let their two stupid ass teenagers run wild and we came up on them sitting and playing on top of these statues. Absolutely zero respect. I felt it would have been just as disrespectful if they had just urinated on it.

Just another example of why I hate people so much. And kids with stupid parents. Anyhoo, here is your pictorial lesson of the battle of Antietam.

Me sitting in front of Dunker Church, the meeting/staging place for the Confederates. Many people died here and ironically enough the Dunkers were German baptists and pacifists.

The Miller Farm cornfield. No corn during winter so it was a bit difficult to get a feel for the size of the field. Union soldiers marched through the cornfield to be gunned down willy nilly. Many people died again.

The Sunken Road, a.k.a Bloody Lane. Confederate soldiers lined the fence to wait for Union soldiers coming up over a ridge (not seen in pic) and then again picked them off. I'm not sure why McClellan never scouted the topography before the battle.


Burnside's Bridge. This is looking toward the side of the creek where the Union soldiers came from. Many men died trying to take the bridge because a bunch of Georgians set up shop on the other side of the bridge on the hill and just shot anything that moved. Kind of like target practice (again).

And that is your capsule of the battle of Antietam. It's really much more than these popular landmarks and you should totally do some research. For one, about five days after this battle, Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. And another, if McClellan hadn't let Lee scurry away the war probably would have ended. And it was the first major battle on Northern soil, etc. etc.

In the first Saturday in December they light one luminary for each fallen soldier...over 23,000 in all. I hear it's pretty amazing.

Whew. Join me next post as we discuss Zoo America and the Two Plane Flights From Hell.