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.