Same race. Different year, relatively the same Deanna with a few necessary modifications, completely different training program.
Deciding to run my seventh half marathon and my fourth More Magazine/Fitness Magazine Half Marathon, didn’t come easy. I vowed that I would not run another half marathon until I lost the rest of my weight. I was so disappointed in my last performance I swore it was because of my weight, I swore I couldn’t perform at my peak performance because of that pesky number on the scale.
Almost a full year later, five weeks into my new half marathon training plan and I just realized that is bullshit. Not total bullshit because weight does play a part in running but it’s not the overall reason of why I didn’t perform well.
Ya see in running, sometimes you never know the reason why you bonk in a race; race day variables are unpredictable and out of your control, it could be raining, there could be a head wind, you can suddenly have GI issues that you never had before in your life, you can trip and fall, your sports bra can be irritating you, seriously, anything! Sometimes it’s impossible to find the exact reason on why you didn’t meet your race day goals and other days, well you know the exact reason. And that’s okay.
As runners we spend countless hours training, countless hours preparing for a race that we totally intend to rock, countless hours away from our families, expending countless hours working towards a goal only to bonk on race day is a HUGE disappoint and it totally sucks.
But its okay.
Totally okay because each race is a new learning experience, a new piece of the running puzzle, and each race will make you a stronger runner.
I’ve learned this year after taking 10 months off from racing that as a runner it’s important to be proud of all your races, the good, the bad and the ugly. Even if the ugly is 15 minutes past your PR, a blister on your big toe and bloody nipples. Yes, bloody nipples, this sport ain’t pretty! You have to be proud of what you accomplished regardless of the outcome.
Frankly, I have no idea what happened almost a year ago, maybe I didn’t put as much into as I thought, I really can’t put my finger on it, definitely part my weight, part not training on hills, part… I have no idea, and I have to stop trying to figure it out.
What I do know is that I did train for that race, that I am training my ass off for this half marathon, and I will do the best I can.
Because like everything in life…what will be will be.
If you got crap for Valentine’s Day, or got crap that you don’t want, or could care less about the hyped up Hallmark Holiday but still would like a gift because hell don’t we all want gifts? Well, don’t you worry because I have the gift for you. My gift is this short-film for all you mama’s out there, actually all parents because I believe dads would thoroughly enjoy this too, as parents we can all relate. The producer, a familly friend asked me to share, and declared that the filmmaker dubbed this “A Love Letter to All Moms”. It’s perfect. Actually it is brilliant, also dark, but brilliant, so yes, it is brilliantly dark, and humorous so… brilliantly dark humor? Indeed! Enjoy. You can thank me now.
Crunch time. Again. It always is in the morning; the morning routine may kill me one day. I try my hardest to get all my ducks in a row way before my little buggers wake up but it never seems to happen.
Nonetheless, the other morning as I was getting ready for work I realized I had to start on the nine year olds hair, it’s an absolute beast in the morning, and every morning I try to settle it down so he can go to school presentable. His hair is a terror but he wants to grow it out and I decided to let him – I took on the challenge, hey its hair we have to pick our battles, right!?
As I was wetting the brush, whipping out the comb trying to do my magic basically acting like a WWE wrestler to try and get his hair into a decent do the five year old comes bopping by takes a good hard look at his brother and says in a very matter of fact tone: “You have romance hair”. What? Romance hair? Is this kid kidding me? I immediately started to giggle because the five year old nailed it, his brother does have romance hair. Anyone would kill for his hair – it’s thick, it’s gorgeous and it has the PERFECT cowlick – think soap-opera dude hair. The nine year old didn’t really like that statement made some sort of grunt and stomped away.
What does a five year old know about romance hair? Well, my friends, the five year old is very observant, he’s a rough tough crème puff, an absolute lover and a fighter. Loves everything about love. He wants to be in love so badly! He loves to kiss; he loves to love. Think I am kidding? He wanted to go to after-care at his school because his friend Stephanie goes, I mean really? He’s chasing girls, rearranging his life at FIVE! If that’s not enough, he is constantly asking us to view WWE videos of the Diva wrestlers kissing…ummm really! People that scares the crap outta me!
The next day, same scenario: we are all running around getting ready to bolt out the door when I find the five year old looking in the mirror, he had the comb in his hand trying to brush his hair to the side. Frustrated, he walked up to me handed me the comb and said: “Mom, I want romance hair”. I was a little stunned, I tried to do my best, but there was no way his hair would ever get that swishy cowlick, he has a crew-cut with just barely enough hair to grab. I added a little gel, made a few spikes and viola! Or so I thought but he wasn’t satisfied, he walked away all slumpy – clearly I didn’t nail it, I guess he thought his make-shift romance would not wow the ladies.
A few days later, another crazy morning as I was putting on my boots the five year old grabbed my face with two hands (naïve me thought that I was getting a kiss) and said, in a very serious tone: “Mom! I like Elsie but I don’t love her.” Ummm, okay, I replied, “You don’t need to love anyone yet, it’s okay to have be friends with girls”. He gave me a strange look. Imagine if I said what I really wanted to say “Stay the HELL awy from any girls, they are all HUSSIES!” I think he really wanted to say he loves Elsie but is trying to protect himself after last year’s fiasco when his heart got broken. That was at four, he sulked for about a week, and the smart boy that he is he does not want to go through that again. Heartache city.
Today, the day we celebrate love and romance, I declared to everyone that we would all have romance hair! I teased the boys and asked the nine year old if he had a Valentine, his quick reply of “No!” was very satisfying to me. Next I turned to the five year old, I took a deep breath, and asked him the same question, he hesitated for a good 30 seconds and as he was thinking I started to panic … who does his heart belong to? Is it Stephanie, Elsie, or maybe he is still hung up on Angelina? After another second he enthusiastically replied “DADDY!”
Daddy! Daddy! Cute, adorable, love it, but kid, if you’re not pining for some hussie kindergartener, you sure as hell better be saying Mommy! I gave you life – damn it!
Happy Valentine’s Day!