tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24923066890205410122023-11-16T03:17:15.896-08:00Mommy MilesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-71565409465941679412013-04-17T14:35:00.002-07:002013-04-17T14:35:31.400-07:00Starting Over. Again.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Mother Nature can be cruel. Although I know how the training cycle goes, the <em>intensity</em> of it suprises me.</div>
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Every....single....time.</div>
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It is Spring. I have started running <em>again.</em></div>
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<br />
<br />
Spring comes.<br />
Begin training.<br />
Muscles ache.<br />
Can't breathe.<br />
Frustration.<br />
Try again.<br />
Continue to get stronger.<br />
Run farther.<br />
Run faster.<br />
<br />
Run through summer heat.<br />
Run farther.<br />
Run faster.<br />
Enter races.<br />
Reach goals.<br />
Continue running.<br />
Get toned.<br />
Smile.<br />
<br />
Run through falling leaves.<br />
Run farther.<br />
Run faster.<br />
Bundle up.<br />
Feel pride.<br />
Feel full of life.<br />
<br />
Snow falls.<br />
Stay inside.<br />
Again.<br />
Again.<br />
Again.<br />
Feel frowny.<br />
Gain weight.<br />
Get weak.<br />
Stay inside.<br />
Again.<br />
Again. <br />
Again.<br />
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Spring comes.<br />
Begin training.<br />
Again.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-91364161240650223482013-04-16T11:50:00.004-07:002013-04-16T11:50:53.320-07:00Hiking "The Narrows" in Zion National Park<div style="text-align: center;">
Have you ever had an experience that when it is over, you just <em>know</em> that it will be one of <em>those</em> experiences that you will never forget? One that you will be replaying and reliving and talking about with those involved for years to come? Hiking <em>The Narrows</em> in Zion National Park was one of those experiences for our family.</div>
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We visited Zion in July of 2012 on a family jaunt out west to see several National Parks. While we were in Zion National Park, we hiked on several trails and experienced some wonderful adventures, but the highlight was definitely our hike into <em>The Narrows</em>.</div>
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We got an early start on our day and climbed aboard the required shuttle to the trailhead. To get to <em>The Narrows</em>, you must take the shuttle to the farthest point on the shuttle route to the Riverside Walk trailhead. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5x7wA89NfiPVJVYAztSJMoNnOH9ZYj0ywnSf4nk2FUDURTpNnzPbll9CgrVye4VDULnGnOn6jGyqdiwxxQyHjjfpW0SC6K6s1Fv4wX7OkvP7U_6ps3H09wr9XeTvFYVIg_Lh83f5mAZ8/s1600/zion+shuttle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5x7wA89NfiPVJVYAztSJMoNnOH9ZYj0ywnSf4nk2FUDURTpNnzPbll9CgrVye4VDULnGnOn6jGyqdiwxxQyHjjfpW0SC6K6s1Fv4wX7OkvP7U_6ps3H09wr9XeTvFYVIg_Lh83f5mAZ8/s400/zion+shuttle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The Riverside Walk Trail is a level, paved one mile trail that meanders along the Virgin River. When the Riverside Trail comes to a dead end at the river's edge, you just step into the river and keep going. The <em>Narrows Trail</em> is not a 'marked' trail. It simply follows the Virgin River upstream through the canyon. The boys, ages 13, 9, and 7, were giddy with the anticipation of being allowed to walk <em>through</em> the river all day.</div>
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We unloaded the shuttle at the trailhead equipped with a walking stick, hiking shoes, and a dry pack on each of our backs. We all carried our own lunches and drinks in our backbacks and Bradley and I packed a small first aid kit, extra drinks, snacks, and cameras in our back pack. Since we knew that the back packs would get wet on the hike, we double bagged all of the items that needed to stay dry (like the cameras and sandwiches) in heavy duty ziplock bags, which worked perfectly.</div>
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The <em>Riverwalk Trail</em> leading up to <em>The Narrows</em> was very lovely, but we hardly paid attention to that part of the hike, because we were so ready to get going in the river. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9BSGEzSnIEVDL03xA2E6aGb_-JPKsj37YzL-Wx4pezkYVKiCmaMnYKxnlDo7UNTMp_BjlAzxkb37ofVMPcdmQmyUGK9Ry7TL2p7NxaZ1xs1t_QkfmCYgljE069FOBhjlojeNfs2IFds/s1600/zion+virgin+river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9BSGEzSnIEVDL03xA2E6aGb_-JPKsj37YzL-Wx4pezkYVKiCmaMnYKxnlDo7UNTMp_BjlAzxkb37ofVMPcdmQmyUGK9Ry7TL2p7NxaZ1xs1t_QkfmCYgljE069FOBhjlojeNfs2IFds/s320/zion+virgin+river.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We began our hike through <em>The Narrows</em> with several other families. The first section of the hike was much thicker with people than the last. The farther we hiked into the canyon, the fewer people we encountered. While we are happy that other people enjoy the beauty of the National Parks, we prefer to avoid the thick crowds when possible.</div>
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Shortly after we began our hike, we came to the deepest section of the river. The water was <em>really</em> cold and was about waist deep on the adults at the depest part. This section of the hike delighted the boys beyond belief and are still talking about how much fun it was months later.</div>
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We hiked up the river for a couple of hours. We stopped for drink breaks and to just enjoy the view several times. The majority of the hike was spent crisscrossing the stream in the paths that we deemed the easiest to cross. Each group traveling up the river was forging their own path. </div>
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We hiked until we made it to where the walls of the canyon got more narrow and seemed to be touching the sky above. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAb2ErMiESRFe_s5kTScZDC-yv5UAvchXzs5gUkyxo1X2FIlkfRmMQ_ZUEMLGxB5BwhibqDEjrvfcKJ7QBZ0OjM7TJfPqYYpjgt_U-DKBtrAUgZ_njKnR6l3HeZrsnIRvC6A5_C5pDLoM/s1600/zion+slot+canyon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAb2ErMiESRFe_s5kTScZDC-yv5UAvchXzs5gUkyxo1X2FIlkfRmMQ_ZUEMLGxB5BwhibqDEjrvfcKJ7QBZ0OjM7TJfPqYYpjgt_U-DKBtrAUgZ_njKnR6l3HeZrsnIRvC6A5_C5pDLoM/s320/zion+slot+canyon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We stopped at the farthest point in our hike for a picnic lunch and simply enjoyed the moment.</div>
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At this point in the hike, the boys reported to us,</div>
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"<strong><em>This is the best hike we have ever been on</em>!"</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwRTMISwe-3anRvdbOfo6IXqZxLUAKxp1p4ei_OQMYG_OdcdRgl7_YWvDTDY4QtvZAuJnO1pciglTnqQ66cgi08gzMEo53lYc05BGCqvFbYna2GIqSZHx4BGsDVtDyWSFjnsHqBD1pI0/s1600/zion+narrows+hike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwRTMISwe-3anRvdbOfo6IXqZxLUAKxp1p4ei_OQMYG_OdcdRgl7_YWvDTDY4QtvZAuJnO1pciglTnqQ66cgi08gzMEo53lYc05BGCqvFbYna2GIqSZHx4BGsDVtDyWSFjnsHqBD1pI0/s320/zion+narrows+hike.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After we were rested and refreshed, we began our journey back out of <em>The Narrows. </em></div>
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We stopped for a little bit of fun <em>rock jumping </em>on our way back out.</div>
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We stayed inside <em>The Narrows</em> for a total of about 6 hours. The entire hike was <em>perfect.</em> It had everything we desire in an adventure. It was stunningly beautiful, the boys got to enjoy a bit of clammoring over rocks, the hike had water, the temperature was perfect, and we were<em> together</em>. Who could ask for anything more in a hike?</div>
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We have experienced <em><strong>many</strong></em> adventures together as a family.....</div>
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hiking the Grand Canyon</div>
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rafting down the Snake River in the Tetons</div>
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exploring caves in Mammoth Cave</div>
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watching geysers erupt in Yellowstone</div>
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hiking around a mountain lake in the Rocky Mountains</div>
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star gazing in Canyonlands</div>
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climbing through an arch at Arches Nationa Park</div>
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sliding down the dunes at Sand Dunes National Park</div>
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....just to name a few.</div>
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But out of ALL of these adventures, hiking <em>The Narrows</em> remains near the top of the list for us. I am thankful to have gotten to experience it with my family.</div>
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<em><strong><span style="font-size: large;">"For all of this, we are grateful to you."</span></strong></em></div>
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<em><strong><span style="font-size: large;"> ~ Acts 24:3</span></strong></em></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-8774130357246578652013-01-14T16:03:00.001-08:002013-01-14T16:03:45.630-08:00Hiking the Grand Canyon....The Kaibab Trail This blog page is typically reserved for all of my running jaunts....whether it be marathon training, half marathon reviews, mud runs, or 5K's. I like to keep a blog as sort of a journal of my effort to stay healthy. Today, as I was looking at reviews for some hikes that I would like to take this summer, I realized that others might like to hear about some of the hiking we have done as well. I would also like to have a better record of some of my favorite hikes for myself. So, as a Mommy who clocks some serious miles as a hiker....the following is our experience on the....<br />
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<strong>Kaibab Trail on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon</strong></div>
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We visited the Grand Canyon as part of a long visit to 9 National Parks out West this past summer. We spent our first day at the Grand Canyon above the rim taking pictures and hiking the short Bright Angel Trail. We also took some other short hikes along the rim and watched the sunset at Bright Angel Point on our first day.</div>
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The second day was to be set aside for some serious hiking.</div>
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We awoke early from our campground near Jacob Lake, Arizona and made the long drive back to the North Rim. We had read the posted warnings about taking plenty of hydration and snacks for hiking below the rim because the hiking can be very strenuous. One information poster hanging at the Grand Canyon Visitor Center even told the story of a very fit, Boston Marathoner who had actually died hiking below the rim of the Grand Canyon because she didn't realize the hiking was so strenuous and thought she could hike from rim to rim in a few hours. She had packed in only one bottle of water and an apple and didn't make it out alive. Yikes! Talk about motivation to pack plenty!<br />
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Our family is pretty well accustomed to hiking. This wasn't our first experience by any means, but we still knew that it would be a challenging hike for us. I had researched the hike in advance and knew that hiking DOWN into the canyon was a breeze, but hiking back UP was treacherous. This proved to be 100% accurate.<br />
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We set out on the wide and smooth trail that meandered through the trees. Each of us, including the kids, carried our own backpacks with several Gatorades, snacks, and lunch inside. We also hiked with hiking sticks, because we knew that the sticks would help on the way out.<br />
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The first portion of the trail hugged the edge of the canyon and the hike was not much more than a typical hike through the woods. The difference was that the hike was a constant downhill hike. The old rule "What goes up, must come down." has to be kept in mind when hiking....except in reverse. You must keep in mind....."A hiker that goes down, must also hike back up." It is so easy to pick up speed and really enjoy a downhill hike, only to realize how far down you have hiked and now you have to get back up. For this particular hike on the Kaibab Trail, a good rule of thumb is....</div>
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*However long it takes you to hike down into the canyon on the trail....</div>
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allow <em>double</em> that amount of time for hiking back up.*</div>
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The Kaibab Trail is also used for the mules to get down into the canyon. While we were on our hike, we needed to step aside for more than one group of mules. This particluar group of mules was being used to "pack in" a group of campers into the campground down in the Canyon. The mules are used to deliver needed supplies to anyone staying overnight in the canyon.</div>
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The stroll through the woods on a wide path, eventually turned into more narrow switchbacks that hugged the canyon walls. The trail became much more uneven, rocky and narrow as we progressed.</div>
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The protection of the trees also vanished and we became much more aware of the scorching, July temperatures. Hiking in temperatures that were over 100 degrees definitely increased the difficulty of the hike.</div>
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We hiked around 2 miles down into the canyon before we decided that we probably needed to stop for a lunch break. We could've hiked much farther <em>down</em> into the canyon, but worried that it might prove to be too difficult to hike back <em>up</em>. </div>
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There were obviously no comfortable picnic tables or little restaurants or grassy lawns with blankets to picnic on on the trail, so we improvised. We stopped to eat under an overhanging rock that provided a small amount of shade. We took our time eating our picnic lunch of sandwiches, chips, string cheese, and gatorade and enjoyed the view of the canyon from our picnic spot.</div>
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While we were stopped to rest and eat, we only saw one other hiker who had made it that far into the canyon. A man, who had a gigantic overnight pack was walking slowly back up and out of the canyon. He had been walking since early morning after spending the night on the floor of the canyon. After we finished eating, we took time to snap a few photos together with the tripod before we started hiking back up.</div>
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The hike back up was <em>truly</em> strenuous. The high temperatures combined with the sharp incline of the trail made for a <em>very</em> difficult hike. We were forced to stop often for our group to catch our breaths. Being a runner with lungs that are conditioned to cardio workouts certainly helped me deal with the hike, but the rest of my family really struggled. This hike is certainly not one that you need to try to do quickly and it isn't a good one for someone with health conditions. </div>
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We paused our hiking after every couple of switchbacks and took a breather or stopped to get a drink. We were really sweating a great deal and we didn't want anyone in our group to dehydrate.</div>
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Although my kids have been hiking all their lives, this one pushed them almost to their limit. While we were hiking back out of the canyon on the Kaibab Trail, Carter (who was 7 at the time), complained about hiking for the first time. He exclaimed, "This hike is too <em>hard </em>for me!"</div>
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Although the hike was at the top our list for difficulty, we were all so thrilled to have done it. It was quite a fantastic experience.....one that we aren't likely to ever forget.</div>
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I highly recommend the experience to anyone who is physically capable of doing it. Watching my little boys conquer a portion of the Kaibab Trail was a moment of pure pride for me.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-19523348884574418482012-12-17T19:14:00.004-08:002012-12-17T19:14:54.460-08:00Twenty Six Point Two.....One Mile At A Time<div style="text-align: center;">
"<em>A marathoner is a marathoner regardless of time. Virtually everyone who tries the marathon has put in training over months, and it is that exercise and that commitment, physical and mental, that gives meaning to the medal, not just the day’s effort, be it fast or slow. It's all in conquering the challenge."</em></div>
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<em> ---Mary R. Wittenberg</em></div>
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Arriving at the <a href="http://www.mommymiles.blogspot.com/2012/12/rocket-city-marathon-start-line.html">Start Line of the Rocket City Marathon</a> last Saturday <em>to me</em> was like the final award ceremony for the many miles I had put in over the last few months. I had run all of those training miles alone...except for the cows and the neighborhood dogs, and was so ridiculously pumped about running the actual race. Now, let's be clear.....I wasn't expecting to participate in the<em> real</em> award ceremony. That would be reserved for the Kenyans and the athletic phenomenons. </div>
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I had a personal race goal of running the marathon in less than 4 hrs and 30 minutes, but I was hoping to stay closer to a 4:15 pace. During my training runs, I had maintained that pace for months, so I completely expected to cross the finish line within my goal time. I even wore a "Pace Tattoo" on my left forearm that would help me check my pace at each mile marker. I felt phsyically and mentally strong and ready for the race.</div>
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The gun fired.....</div>
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BANG!</div>
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I was off. I shuffled along mixed up in the crowd of 1600 or so runners during the first stretch of road. I spotted my family and friends right across the <strong>start line</strong> and they all gave me an enthusiastic wave and smile as I began my journey. I flashed a wide grin and waved to my group. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhj_d9NXHIlgAdRYF6oYE4tr96GXzMJRWrHpCgG69WjdLzYbhGcC_H8mbVO2S3nxypndaAeherrwCkls2K9nultmH6y39nsPaqhs7XNw7i7dXV1Ca1mskn2ax0epcfuORLfS4XtF5DO-c/s1600/marathon+start+smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhj_d9NXHIlgAdRYF6oYE4tr96GXzMJRWrHpCgG69WjdLzYbhGcC_H8mbVO2S3nxypndaAeherrwCkls2K9nultmH6y39nsPaqhs7XNw7i7dXV1Ca1mskn2ax0epcfuORLfS4XtF5DO-c/s400/marathon+start+smile.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The first mile clicked by in what felt like only seconds. I had adrenaline coursing through my veins as I ran along in the crowd of runners. The <strong>first mile</strong> marker clicked by and I was grinning from ear to ear.</div>
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The <strong>second mile</strong> marker also seemed to appear instantly. The joy of the moment made the first 18 minutes pass by quickly. I was feeling<em> so</em> fresh and strong. I was still surrounded by a pack of other runners, as everyone was trying to even out their pace and find space to get into a running rhythm. I spotted my whole group of race supporters at mile two! My hubby was there with my 3 little boys, my Mom and Dad, and a couple of my great friends. I was suprised and so happy to see them so quickly! I threw my arms up to give them a wave as they cheered for me and kept trucking along.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7mKzaJ1db754UDHoAnxn_3s54mrrrgYmixWCxp0ofHEW-2CKjD4v1ygy6ahBxpBbcKKm-lNd-rgOIL6A7ACMR71bGx7v9wuqG6lvp2e2nDXbRXg2ciXzbqRT5Ex5L8Hfdri_dxFRzrt8/s1600/marathon+mile+2+wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7mKzaJ1db754UDHoAnxn_3s54mrrrgYmixWCxp0ofHEW-2CKjD4v1ygy6ahBxpBbcKKm-lNd-rgOIL6A7ACMR71bGx7v9wuqG6lvp2e2nDXbRXg2ciXzbqRT5Ex5L8Hfdri_dxFRzrt8/s320/marathon+mile+2+wave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<strong>Miles three and four</strong> passed by almost effortlessly. During these miles, my prayer band reminded me to pray for my family. I ran and prayed with such a thankful heart for my perfect little lovebugs and my hubby. I prayed during those first few miles with such gratitude. I was literally filled with joy. I was feeling beyond grateful for the ability to accomplish such a difficult physical feat and felt wrapped in a blanket of love because of my supporters who were there to cheer me on. I had a permanent smile across my face as my feelings of joy oozed out as I ran.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4H8yTCp_HOolaaASVbspE45iC4xA0mxi1g-RqaTDHfGE7FH8yjHNbryZltKXw9GGy3mViVmzv-IPxstXZhDhWOWmDTRLhA99QDk6uRdMpOcHKN7sp5vPgpomPiHpEXBVKWaN9BuqUEY/s1600/marathon+mile+4+wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4H8yTCp_HOolaaASVbspE45iC4xA0mxi1g-RqaTDHfGE7FH8yjHNbryZltKXw9GGy3mViVmzv-IPxstXZhDhWOWmDTRLhA99QDk6uRdMpOcHKN7sp5vPgpomPiHpEXBVKWaN9BuqUEY/s320/marathon+mile+4+wave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I trucked along through miles <strong>five and six</strong>. I could see my little guys standing with their signs they had made as I approached them. I had to make a super quick detour over to the sidewalk where they were standing to give each of them a quick smooch on the forehead.</div>
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I had stayed near the 4:15 pace group until <strong>mile six</strong>, where I had to make a quick stop at the portapotty. I did such a fantastic job "pre-hydrating", that I had to make a stop. Since someone else was making a pit stop, too....I had to wait a minute on my turn to go. During my stop, the 4:25 pace group passed by me. I wasn't too worried about that because I knew that I was still very close to my pace time and I thought I could probably catch back up to them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRfJBxGlXpb72C7jf0zHqCMnIYhVJOuoFVXMQ6sXQCauZdfweiwl8i1-FQk6NuJWGzP0JUER7OKBVvu48fqtMB1VHANyIVrcOvXdNX3Ldcls3FNa85aFvDsFmhgSVLvv4hSHsadlWzJI4/s1600/marathon+mile+6+close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRfJBxGlXpb72C7jf0zHqCMnIYhVJOuoFVXMQ6sXQCauZdfweiwl8i1-FQk6NuJWGzP0JUER7OKBVvu48fqtMB1VHANyIVrcOvXdNX3Ldcls3FNa85aFvDsFmhgSVLvv4hSHsadlWzJI4/s320/marathon+mile+6+close.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I fell into a comfortable running rhythm during <strong>miles seven to ten</strong>. I saw my supporters a couple more times, and became quite amazed that Bradley and the boys seemed to be around every corner. They were <em>very</em> efficient as a marathon support group! Each time I saw them, I was greeted with new signs and more cheers. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHE_MDIPF4Q4OMAFmX91jvPdEFNBQRZ6Bc82B3fxWqJwSvhqBwVnLXXapxw7rcQa4_zxZVqTNHjLaCMW6a9n8zc0xfAY2WNMam117fJD9Dg6xY12X79GUH53Y5xHWiaedi-xYrlDOqT94/s1600/marathon+signs+boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHE_MDIPF4Q4OMAFmX91jvPdEFNBQRZ6Bc82B3fxWqJwSvhqBwVnLXXapxw7rcQa4_zxZVqTNHjLaCMW6a9n8zc0xfAY2WNMam117fJD9Dg6xY12X79GUH53Y5xHWiaedi-xYrlDOqT94/s320/marathon+signs+boys.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6BR3Z8ejuHv6QoKdMKcb2dbQ1WTG7dgAaDVta4CDNl4r6FjTNOJ7Q9lV8n-gpyHRfAXUj7UuL4rxZlUS4Bej3WRJmTf1sp2erij-461hudwgyQj7Seu4PpAarX9RbtzlGugqcDIIkfk/s1600/marathon+mile+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6BR3Z8ejuHv6QoKdMKcb2dbQ1WTG7dgAaDVta4CDNl4r6FjTNOJ7Q9lV8n-gpyHRfAXUj7UuL4rxZlUS4Bej3WRJmTf1sp2erij-461hudwgyQj7Seu4PpAarX9RbtzlGugqcDIIkfk/s320/marathon+mile+8.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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I hit <strong>mile 11</strong> and everything changed. <br />
I was running along happily, until something went wrong in my left knee. </div>
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I had not had any knee problems during my training runs, so it seemed to come out of nowhere. It was instant and it was intense. Something felt crooked or out of place or wacky in some sort of painful way. The pain was back behind my knee cap. I stopped and bent over, touching my toes to try to stretch out my hamstring. I did some knee lifts to try to make the pain subside. Then, I tried to run again. </div>
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Ouch...ouch...ouch!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVKN3KtAYOVT78fbN4G-CFo_wZytKxV7OANdePRDkvHTJ4_ktFFNTfsuLyqzVOWQnjYU8n7m35Q9TRPwStB8YMToXxsZ6ClS_1jLRYlZUaUMKY5ZFZzVuXwpQhJT5eJZWfRtCnpEbM_0/s1600/marathon+mile+11+knee+stretch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVKN3KtAYOVT78fbN4G-CFo_wZytKxV7OANdePRDkvHTJ4_ktFFNTfsuLyqzVOWQnjYU8n7m35Q9TRPwStB8YMToXxsZ6ClS_1jLRYlZUaUMKY5ZFZzVuXwpQhJT5eJZWfRtCnpEbM_0/s320/marathon+mile+11+knee+stretch.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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Oh, boy. This was <em>not</em> good.</div>
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I decided to walk a bit and see if maybe just "shaking it off" would work. Walking didn't hurt it at all. So, I kept walking for a bit. I walked for a quarter of a mile or so. I decided to give it another go and try to run again. Owww!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziT_TUbEPyS_o2kiLpcPYTJMti5ZRboF-6Eb-94pyEgTiaT8ENYXnHNc-2QqqB1w8OOHe1jDuXBqWSptM54tkVoX1ZaqLrpoPdpMvbWS1bCGS8t61i3mT8jqK0qM_1u-hbrpcYTQTbRE/s1600/marathon+mile+10+vertical.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziT_TUbEPyS_o2kiLpcPYTJMti5ZRboF-6Eb-94pyEgTiaT8ENYXnHNc-2QqqB1w8OOHe1jDuXBqWSptM54tkVoX1ZaqLrpoPdpMvbWS1bCGS8t61i3mT8jqK0qM_1u-hbrpcYTQTbRE/s320/marathon+mile+10+vertical.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Oh, dear. Not good. Not good. <em>Not</em> good.</div>
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I had to walk again until <strong>mile 12.</strong></div>
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<br /></div>
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I had been running with my cell phone, just in case my boys wanted to text me some sort of message of support and I was using the clock on the phone as a pacing tool. </div>
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I texted Bradley for help.</div>
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I sent....<br />
"<em>Something is wrong with my knee. The next time I see you, have some ibuprofen ready with a drink</em>."</div>
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He was near the route of the runners, so he pulled up next to me in the truck and Tucker held his hand out the window. In the palm of his hand were 3 ibuprofen. I took them from him as I walked alongside the truck. I took the styrofoam Jack's cup from him to have something to wash the pills down with as they drove off looking at me with concern.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHM4Y7OlkjiNcgWLozKDRKgsE8CE6-CI7R0LsvDaUZpZgIz_PU8xvrtiaAm_5eQG-MdHMcVfCG51keK-tD1zdVqQjJsehqt68NXreWC5V7rdvcgtPLm9S-RhFJnVC516ZO7AAumDXa7w/s1600/marathon+mile+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHM4Y7OlkjiNcgWLozKDRKgsE8CE6-CI7R0LsvDaUZpZgIz_PU8xvrtiaAm_5eQG-MdHMcVfCG51keK-tD1zdVqQjJsehqt68NXreWC5V7rdvcgtPLm9S-RhFJnVC516ZO7AAumDXa7w/s320/marathon+mile+11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was humbled to walking for the next two miles. I tried to run over and over, but my knee just would <em>not </em>cooperate. I prayed that the ibuprofen would start to take effect so that I could pick up my running pace again. </div>
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I walked to <strong>mile 13.</strong></div>
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I walked to <strong>mile 14.</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1noi7TGvsayp0OxTtVd0UdgeZlyjst5S3PNi3RWCzMqDOYecxRlHa1MnFslqXP2ZZQut1YriDVrvn5boW60dZ_afTnNxpjR7qNmWeUaWywcvLALi4UkILTO2g9DObnrXWrOEx9gGI8mk/s1600/marathon+mile+12+hobbling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1noi7TGvsayp0OxTtVd0UdgeZlyjst5S3PNi3RWCzMqDOYecxRlHa1MnFslqXP2ZZQut1YriDVrvn5boW60dZ_afTnNxpjR7qNmWeUaWywcvLALi4UkILTO2g9DObnrXWrOEx9gGI8mk/s320/marathon+mile+12+hobbling.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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I watched as the pace groups kept running past me. As I saw the slowest pace group, the 4:45 group run past, tears came to my eyes.</div>
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I <em>knew</em> that I wouldn't be able to finish my race within my goal time frame, and I began to worry that I wouldn't <em>even</em> make the course time limit of 6 hours. If I had to continue to walk, I would never make it. I would be crushed if I didn't make the 6 hour cut off, or worse if I had to just drop out.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I stretched some more.</div>
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I decided that I would try again to run. It had been long enough that maybe the ibuprofen would be helping.</div>
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I gave it a go. Ow. It hurt, but less so. A slow jog <em>might</em> be possible. </div>
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I kind of shuffled along at a slower pace. Hoping my knee would kind of <em>get in the game a</em>nd cooperate. I was running again.....slowly....but it was better than walking. </div>
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I was clenching my teeth together as I ran, but I was determined to hobble along and finish this race. I made it to <strong>Mile 15</strong>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXb_kFE7PPJv2SFjnvkkT7UOmgCHdk-xlntRNI1qtCJvZT6lDkc0iS1xsq33ppfs5SO_RyBCH8s_R4PmM1MZsQCytSyeWRghnT7INnbCV65svOapp0KmdLef_rDNjU3Lln6rN_W6sI48/s1600/marathon+mile+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXb_kFE7PPJv2SFjnvkkT7UOmgCHdk-xlntRNI1qtCJvZT6lDkc0iS1xsq33ppfs5SO_RyBCH8s_R4PmM1MZsQCytSyeWRghnT7INnbCV65svOapp0KmdLef_rDNjU3Lln6rN_W6sI48/s320/marathon+mile+15.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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I was thrilled that I was jogging again when I spotted my gang of supporters. I wanted to be able to erase some of the concern that I had seen on the boys faces earlier. They were as excited about coming to cheer at this race as I was to run in it. I didn't want to ruin the day with a bum knee.</div>
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</div>
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I wanted to finish this race!</div>
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I was determined. I continued to pray and run. Pray and run. Pray and run. I prayed at each mile marker for whatever was on my prayer band, and then I would pray some more for the strength to finish.</div>
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</div>
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I continued over the next few miles jogging as much as I could, until it hurt too bad, and then I would walk for a while. I made it to mile <strong>16 and mile 17</strong>. Slowly clicking the miles off.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNH_nHhYjLcjwUIzPOnOmsYq8bqMRF6D7-Sg_Lx54vNDXn-viYh0Ixp3_tdqXlMaO4iO1j22rH-nvEees0zWJDkhTkf_LPalM45T7b9Ilwbzm54Icfl6JE20wIePNqreqPaEvBnP4aSEk/s1600/marathon+mile+19+checking+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNH_nHhYjLcjwUIzPOnOmsYq8bqMRF6D7-Sg_Lx54vNDXn-viYh0Ixp3_tdqXlMaO4iO1j22rH-nvEees0zWJDkhTkf_LPalM45T7b9Ilwbzm54Icfl6JE20wIePNqreqPaEvBnP4aSEk/s320/marathon+mile+19+checking+time.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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I checked the time on my phone to see how far off pace I was. I checked my pace tattoo.....which was originally applied to my arm to keep me on pace....now became a constant reminder of how far off my goal pace I was. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxQ4r8Enj5c2ENgL4obg4kz3E5Oi8zsT0uKO-fxFyD9lXjpeyDFEMbTs2Xj55lmhRSHAnEPvVM1lJ6kRYGd9x75tyGtk-aj49Wbgozlz4McMrnueCkOpsndrmAdNm37W8h9A0hdPAlQs/s1600/marathon+water+stop+mile+18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxQ4r8Enj5c2ENgL4obg4kz3E5Oi8zsT0uKO-fxFyD9lXjpeyDFEMbTs2Xj55lmhRSHAnEPvVM1lJ6kRYGd9x75tyGtk-aj49Wbgozlz4McMrnueCkOpsndrmAdNm37W8h9A0hdPAlQs/s320/marathon+water+stop+mile+18.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I made it to the water stop at <strong>mile 18.</strong> I felt a little embarrassed at how slow I was. I know, <em>I know</em>...the feelings were irrational and unwarranted. I was running a marathon for heaven sake! It's not that I wasn't <em>proud</em> of that. But, I was just disappointed in the way the run had turned out. I didnt expect to be just <em>surviving</em> the race. I wanted to relish in it. I found myself surrounded by runners in their 60's and 70's. Women who were vomitting. People who were just slow. I have always held the utmost respect for runners of ALL speeds. It has never mattered to me if someone ran fast or slow, as long as they were running. But somehow, it made a difference when<em> I</em> was the one running slow.</div>
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My little guys must have known that I needed some encouragement, because at about this time...they held up these signs....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2__5DJIM5mhYTspoHLZCOS3dMJk3q5C-OAy81-e8qhVaeF4pl7SeXKDvb6YQ0Ea4wBLXJ6Z9XsZx1iiEzOAc-hpRC_Mvm1RIGXdnS0EMCuFJK7uxNa_5vAFpyv1_BmMbA1iBN2Yy7Oo/s1600/marathon+signs+end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2__5DJIM5mhYTspoHLZCOS3dMJk3q5C-OAy81-e8qhVaeF4pl7SeXKDvb6YQ0Ea4wBLXJ6Z9XsZx1iiEzOAc-hpRC_Mvm1RIGXdnS0EMCuFJK7uxNa_5vAFpyv1_BmMbA1iBN2Yy7Oo/s320/marathon+signs+end.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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"We believe in you."</div>
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I kept moving. </div>
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Run, walk. Run, walk. Run, walk.</div>
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<strong>Mile 19</strong> done.</div>
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<strong>Mile 20</strong> passed through some sort of a park. As I ran through it, the boys gave me a banana to eat. I crammed three bites into my mouth and kept running....chewing as I jogged off. It was seriously the best banana I had ever eaten.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vON2g8GAH0pLobkE1tIGhaG8CRSCVQ9j0-mpcQqOApsdyFUxjseNo1sA-HomZbGPIOwCS1rbrTWZwoTVDsg_i48tpz68zx7LuxJF6zkQBbHzzC8hx80GCD9HycV1vHFwHBqiOLGYkTk/s1600/mile+20+eating+a+banana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vON2g8GAH0pLobkE1tIGhaG8CRSCVQ9j0-mpcQqOApsdyFUxjseNo1sA-HomZbGPIOwCS1rbrTWZwoTVDsg_i48tpz68zx7LuxJF6zkQBbHzzC8hx80GCD9HycV1vHFwHBqiOLGYkTk/s320/mile+20+eating+a+banana.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But stopping, even for that short, short time caused my knee to start to hurt so badly again.</div>
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I gritted my teeth and hobbled off. I only had 6 miles to go. 6 miles is nothing.</div>
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I kept telling myself....6 miles...that's only 2 5K's. It's nothing.</div>
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</div>
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I just wanted to keep moving.</div>
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Walk, run. Walk, run. Walk, run.</div>
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<strong>Mile 21.</strong></div>
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At around <strong>mile 22,</strong> the runners were suppose to run through a pedestrian tunnel. When the boys saw this tunnel the day before the race as we were coming into town, they thought it was the neatest thing ever! As I appraoched the tunnel on race day, I saw three little boys standing at the entrance of it, waiting to run through it with me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5Ft0ckLR0w3TV9UUeOfaMIcdLuwlXK25SzpjeVHjxGISGlv4HAfAghFoIj2BNQMYh4AzLU8m7JCE739iwEPqCpxsZWxHsXVzk3rsNCs0-qz1du3GdH77Q1l-j7-2hiWMJ7RUi2e914c/s1600/marathon+mile+22+tunnel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5Ft0ckLR0w3TV9UUeOfaMIcdLuwlXK25SzpjeVHjxGISGlv4HAfAghFoIj2BNQMYh4AzLU8m7JCE739iwEPqCpxsZWxHsXVzk3rsNCs0-qz1du3GdH77Q1l-j7-2hiWMJ7RUi2e914c/s320/marathon+mile+22+tunnel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As we ran, they asked..."How is your knee? How are you feeling?" and said, "We are proud of you, Mom. You're doing good!"</div>
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I was still jogging. Still moving toward that finish line.</div>
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Only 3 miles to go.</div>
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My whole crew....Mom and Dad, the boys, Bradley, my friends...they were all there at <strong>mile 23</strong>. They shouted..."See you at the finish line!"</div>
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The finish line.</div>
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I was going to make it. I was going to finish.</div>
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At this point, all of my gratitude started to come back again. Although my knee was still being uncooperative and my legs and feet were beginning to ache all over, I knew I would be able to finish the last 3 miles.</div>
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<strong>Mile 24.</strong></div>
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<strong>Mile 25.</strong></div>
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Everyone around me was struggling.</div>
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Several were vomitting.</div>
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Almost everyone was walking more than they were jogging.</div>
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The runners all started encouraging each other.</div>
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"We're almost there."</div>
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"We got this!"</div>
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"Keep moving forward!"</div>
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The spectators that were scattered sparsely over the last mile were especially compassionate and encouraging. Screaming....</div>
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"Go! You're almost there!!" </div>
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"You did it!" </div>
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"You're there!" </div>
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"Right around the corner!"</div>
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<strong>Mile 26.</strong></div>
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<strong></strong> </div>
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I could see the finish line.</div>
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It was just down the hill.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7YhmaXzPKlL3HkS23wRCmxlsxKrDIooDnRfwN9vCTGxkSBfa6fHEQJkx6ou5P948kuDd07VDlww1lDDGSIJTqNR4H44I9_SP-HpTIPShEiGJ8nWJR6N9-BlCSekIjIy-wxzbHXRzG1I/s1600/marathon+mile+26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7YhmaXzPKlL3HkS23wRCmxlsxKrDIooDnRfwN9vCTGxkSBfa6fHEQJkx6ou5P948kuDd07VDlww1lDDGSIJTqNR4H44I9_SP-HpTIPShEiGJ8nWJR6N9-BlCSekIjIy-wxzbHXRzG1I/s320/marathon+mile+26.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I heard my friends calling to me from the sidewalk...</div>
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"There she is! You did it. You are there!"</div>
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I could hear the announcer call my name over the cheers....</div>
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"Runner #1584 - Jennifer Heptinstall from Blountsville"</div>
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I did it. </div>
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I made it!</div>
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I crossed the <strong>finish line.</strong></div>
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I jogged into the arms of the race officials as they wrapped me into a blanket and placed my medal around my neck.</div>
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I finished a full hour over my goal pace time, but I did it.</div>
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I ran a marathon.</div>
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I clutched onto my medal and loved the way it felt heavy hanging around my neck.</div>
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I ran straight over to my family who were waiting to congratulate me.</div>
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Everyone was so encouraging and supportive. They ALL knew I was disappointed with my finish time, but no one else seemed to care about the time it took to finish.</div>
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Shortly after I crossed the line, one of my friends asked....</div>
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"Well, will you do another one?"</div>
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I shouted...</div>
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"<em>No. Never! I am not doing that again."</em></div>
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But, the gang laughed and said, "<em>We will ask you again next week. I bet you will change your mind</em>."</div>
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Over the past week, as the knee has stopped hurting, and the blisters have gone away, and the muscles have regained their strength, and the joints are less achy....I have started to <em>consider</em> trying it again. Although I completed my goal of <em>finishing a marathon, </em>I didn't even come <em>close </em>to my goal finishing time. </div>
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Doing another one is now certainly a possibility.</div>
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<em>To boast of a performance which I cannot beat is merely stupid vanity. And if I can beat it, that means there is nothing special about it. What has passed is already finished with. </em></div>
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<em><strong>What I find more interesting is what is still to come.</strong></em></div>
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<em> ----Emil Zatopek</em></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-59160632492944494942012-12-13T06:09:00.001-08:002012-12-13T06:09:02.918-08:00Rocket City Marathon - The Start Line I ran the Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville last Saturday. I completed the full marathon. I ran 26.2 miles. I am included in an elite group of people that comprises less than 1% of the population. I did it. I am a marathon runner. All of these statements are almost unbelievable to me, yet they are true. Although I put in the many, many miles of training it took to do it and I was the one actually running the race.....it still seems unreal that it's over. <br />
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I have thought about writing this blog entry since Saturday, yet I somehow struggle with how to put the experience into words. The whole day was such an emotional roller coaster ride that I can't even begin to explain what the experience was like for me. Yet, I want to have it documented, so I am going to give it a whirl. </div>
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I suppose the best place to start the story of the marathon is the start line.....although, the story actually started months before then. I won't back track into all the details of the training, the foot injury, the time constraints, and the diagnosis of the flu just a week before race day. Nope, I won't go back that far. I will just start with the starting line.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJ_OsuDNl60sdKQAoFXAFjfIHoZ51AgPjXdRZIl-ftohDvO7kgILOaTpRRxBmckfoF4ETX9zwYakM4sbqiDPybABgHi1YwrxQmvyXV9Zska4AawkvOqVUbZvUq1AfPUIXLhEdkC2-Tqg/s1600/marathon+start+line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJ_OsuDNl60sdKQAoFXAFjfIHoZ51AgPjXdRZIl-ftohDvO7kgILOaTpRRxBmckfoF4ETX9zwYakM4sbqiDPybABgHi1YwrxQmvyXV9Zska4AawkvOqVUbZvUq1AfPUIXLhEdkC2-Tqg/s320/marathon+start+line.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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At 7:56am on Saturday, December 8th, I stood among 1,650 strangers listening to welcome speeches and various "good luck" messages over the loud speaker. We were all crammed together in the starting corral with nervous energy awaiting the gun shot and permission to begin the race. The adjoining sidewalks were crammed with families and friends of the marathon runners.....all of them craning their necks to see their loved one start their journey of 26.2 miles on foot. I had my own crew of family and friends just past the starting line waiting to see me cross that line.</div>
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I had dreamed of completing a marathon since 1997, when my Daddy did it. I cheered for him with pride as he crossed the finish line 15 years ago. Now, it was my turn. He was there, along with my Mom, to cheer me on.</div>
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As my family walked with me to the start line, my Daddy gave me his support and words of wisdom. He said to me, </div>
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<em>"Don't start out too fast. Stay on your own pace. No matter how long it takes you to finish, I will be proud of you."</em></div>
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With a bit of raw emotions coming out in my voice, I replied,</div>
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<em>"I hope that I am making you proud by stepping up to the start line."</em></div>
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He and Mom gave me a hug and kiss and I made my way over to my other awesome supporters. My three little guys came to the race equipped with tons of motivational signs for me and were so proud to be there. </div>
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All of my little guys and hubby have been so ridiculously supportive through my entire training period. Never once complaining about the time it took me to train and always asking me when I returned home from a run about how my run went. I was so elated that they all came with me to cheer me on.</div>
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I gave each one of my boys a kiss on the forehead and they all wished me good luck. Bradley gave me a kiss and told me how proud he was of me. I left them behind and made my way to my pace group in the starting corral. I situated myself between the 4:10 pacers and the 4:15 pacers.</div>
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Many of the runners had stood at the start line of a marathon before and were veteran runners, but were still showing signs of nervousness for what was about to take place. Others, like me, were about to attempt their first full marathon. I felt like everyone around me could tell how nervous I was. I retied both of my shoes, even though they didn't need it. I adjusted every article of clothing I was wearing. I checked my "Pace Tattoo" that I had applied to my left forearm to keep me on my race pace of 4 hours and 15 minutes.</div>
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I glanced at my "Prayer Band" that I wore to remind me what to pray for at each mile marker. My mouth felt like cotton, and my heart was beating out of my chest. I was so excited that this day had finally arrived, yet I was so nervous that something might go wrong and I wouldn't be able to finish it. I had put in the grueling hours of training and I was ready to start the 26 mile journey. </div>
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The clock ticked. </div>
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The runners fidgeted.</div>
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Spectators clicked cameras.</div>
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Hearts pounded.</div>
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The gun fired.</div>
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<em>BANG!</em></div>
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I <em>approached</em> the start line with a grin on my face....</div>
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And <em>crossed </em>the start line with a huge smile and a wave.</div>
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I was doing it. I was crossing the starting line of a marathon.</div>
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This was the start of fulfilling a dream. </div>
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"<em>You should run your first marathon for the right reasons, because you'll never be the same person again."</em></div>
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---Bill Wenmack, Running Coach</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-63082931750294952602012-11-04T12:48:00.001-08:002012-11-04T12:48:21.262-08:00T.G.I.O.<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>Thank.....Goodness....It's......OVER!</strong></div>
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I was scheduled for an 18 mile training run this morning. My mileage has increased over the last couple of months to prepare me for the marathon in December. I knew 18 miles would push me to my current limit, but I didnt expect it to be excruciating. It was terrible. Horrific. Painful. Not enjoyable in ANY way. It was one of <em>those</em> runs. We runners have them sometimes. Luckily, the bad runs are few and far between.</div>
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This morning, I was set up for failure from the beginning. I had a whole list of strikes against me having a good run. The circumstances were all aligned for a bummer run. </div>
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1. I ate a crappy dinner last night (2 slices of supreme pizza)</div>
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2. I did not drink water yesterday.</div>
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3. I stayed up late.</div>
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4. I did not sleep well....hardly at all.</div>
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5. I did pilates for strength training yesterday and my thighs were very sore.</div>
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6. I completed only <em>one</em> of the three training runs during the week that I was scheduled to do.</div>
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All of these things added up to the worst run I have ever had. It hurt from the first step. My legs were sore and achy. I had absolutely no pizazz or energy. I felt like I was dragging my legs. They felt like they were made of lead. I was humbled to <em>walking</em> portions of the run and had trouble convincing my body to start running again. At about mile 12 of 18, I was literally talking out loud to myself. This is embarrasing to admit, but I honestly did it. I told myself that I could do it...that I could make it. I told myself to keep going. (Myself wasn't listening very well, but I kept talking anyway.)</div>
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I knew that at about mile 13, I would be passing by my house where a gatorade and the other half of my protein bar awaited me. I was in desperate need of refueling. I thought that if I could just make it back to the food and drink, that the fuel would perk me up enough to finish stronger. Once I got the end of my driveway in my sights, where the protein bar awaited me.... I focused straight ahead. I kept my eyes locked on the spot that held the food. I was even able to pick up the pace just from the anticipation of it.</div>
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Now, here comes the most dreadful part of the running story.</div>
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I dragged myself to the end of the driveway, only to discover the <em>empty</em> package from the protein bar lying on the ground. It seems that one of the dadgum neighborhood dogs found my fuel before I got to it. I was bummed beyond words. </div>
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I thought that maybe the wind had just blown the bar onto the ground, so I combed the earth for the blown away bar. It wasn't there. But, if it had been lying on the dirty ground, I wouldn't have hestitated to eat it. I would've gobbled that yummy little bite up. Except, it <em>wasnt</em> there. It was certainly in the belly of a nearby dog.</div>
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So..... I had to finish the last 5 miles, grieving the loss of my food.</div>
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Wincing at the pain in my thighs.</div>
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Groaning at the blisters forming on my toes.</div>
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Dragging my lead legs along with me.</div>
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Completely depleted of all energy.</div>
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I have never....<strong>ever</strong>.....been so happy for a run to be over.</div>
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Next week on Sunday morning, as I tackle 19 miles, I guarantee that I will be better prepared for success.</div>
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I will eat a better dinner, drink more water on Saturday, get my training runs done during the week, get more sleep, and MOST importantly.....I will hide my food from the dogs.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-57247273593287523352012-10-07T15:22:00.003-07:002012-10-07T18:44:32.942-07:00Marathon Training...What Am I THINKING??!! ....Literally.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Please ignore the gazillion grammatical errors that I am certain are in this post. I typed it quickly as I thought of the words. Lots of room for errors here.)</span><br />
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I am in the midst of training for my first marathon. The December 8th date is quickly approaching. I have been following a training schedule that I found online so that I could be prepared for the LONG 26.2 mile race. Completing a marathon has forever been a personal goal of mine, but haven't been able to figure out how to squeeze in the time for training until my boys (now ages 13, 9, and 8) got a little older and less demanding. My current training schedule is to complete my long runs on Sunday mornings before anyone starts stirring. The rest of my shorter runs are crammed between school and football practices, during practices, and sometimes after dark. I fit them in whenever I can manage. </div>
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Today is Sunday....it is my long running day. It is now afternoon, and the sweat from my run has long ago dried, but the run was just this morning, so I remember almost every step of it. I remember what I was thingking and feeling. Before I became the distance runner myself, I always wondered what the runners must be thinking and feeling as they pounded out mile after mile after mile. I wondered how in the world they talked themself into running so far. So, I decided that I would record it. Record MY thoughts during my run today. My thoughts today while running were <em>exactly</em> typical of <em>ANY </em>other long run I have ever done. I have noticed that I kind of "zone out" and think the same things over and over.</div>
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My day started at 6 am this morning. I awoke sluggish, but ready to complete a 13 mile training run before time to get ready for church. I put some biscuits in the oven and started the timer so that when the boys began to stir, the could help themselves to breakfast. I grabbed a protein bar for myself, drank some water, laced up my shoes, grabbed my cell phone and ipod and headed out the door.</div>
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<strong>Now.....pretend you can actually <em>READ</em> my thoughts during my run.</strong><br />
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Prerun:<br />
<em>Brrrr. It's freezing out here. And it's drizzling. Crap. 2 hours of this is gonna be miserable. Maybe I should just NOT run. No. I gotta run. If I don't I will be behind schedule. Dang. I hate the cold weather. I better get going. I am starting later than I should've.</em><br />
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To Mile One:<br />
<em>Good heavens it is cold! I should've gotten my hat to keep this rain off my face. I hope it stops raining. I hope it doesnt rain during the real marathon. Cold rain stinks. Sheesh. I wonder where the dog is? He always runs with me. I hope he isn't dead. Oh my goodness, if Davy is dead, then the boys are goona be devastated. I wonder why he didn't come running? Maybe he is sleeping. Maybe he will join me later. I hope Davy is ok. First mile always seems so hard! Why can't I breathe? Hmmm...should I just keep running on my regular path to the tree and back over and over? I get so sick of running that same mile and back over and over. If I go farther to the cemetery down the road, then I won't get so bored. But there are hills that way. And it is farther from the boys. But I like the run there...maybe I should go to the cemetery today. But what if the dogs are out of their pens on the way. I hate dogs. I hate hills. I like the cemetery. I think I will do it.</em><br />
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To Mile Two:<br />
<em>I am so glad I headed toward the cemetery. I love this downhill part. This is gonna make the run seem better because the scenery is different. This was a good choice. I hope I don't have to stop to go to the bathroom today. Is that a dog? Oh my gosh, I hope these people didnt let their dogs out to pee early this morning. If the dogs come to attack me, then I can climb up on that fence. Or that tree. I can call for help. I will call Daddy. Please....please....please let the dogs NOT be out. No dogs. No dogs. No dogs. Daddy will hurry if a dog attacks me.</em><br />
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To Mile Three:<br />
<em>Thank goodness there were no dogs in that section. This road is so beautiful. I love how the trees kind of hang over on both sides. These downhills are so nice. running around this cemetery is really neat. I wonder if PawPaw Curt sees me running? His headstone is really pretty. Mama did a good job picking it out. Hey, PawPaw! I miss you. Man, this hill running out of the cemetery is harsh. </em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwtsi9bxQ9GP2M77zrC5d2cn1RWME-28cRkGqKfJyGwvTEj74jzC0OHd7ACB_6HZcQdqaHxK3SRUisyOx0VO42KZYRVyQ-8vy_37RqOxIs0n_te38jNoB_72tiH8QiKKmI3Bq7E8p5hr8/s1600/DSC_1281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwtsi9bxQ9GP2M77zrC5d2cn1RWME-28cRkGqKfJyGwvTEj74jzC0OHd7ACB_6HZcQdqaHxK3SRUisyOx0VO42KZYRVyQ-8vy_37RqOxIs0n_te38jNoB_72tiH8QiKKmI3Bq7E8p5hr8/s320/DSC_1281.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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To Mile Four:<br />
<em>Good grief! Why did I come this way! These hills are ridiculous! Them don't seem big at all when I am in my car. That is so weird. Oh, dear heavens! I am gonna die! I don't know if I can make it. I might have to walk some. No.....keep running. Power through the uphills so that I can relish in the downhills. Power through. Power through. Argh. I need to walk. No...don't do it. No....No...just jog slowly. (</em>Hearing Dory's voice off of Nemo<em>)......Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...LaLa..lala....just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. Just keep swimming...lala. Why does that stupid song help me? I am not even swimming. It's insane when that song pops into my brain. Who</em><em> could find support from a memory deficient cartoon fish besides me? I'm a weirdo. I hope there are no dogs when I pass by these houses again. They weren't out before, maybe they will still be put up. Thank goodness I made it back past all those darn hills! Why did I even go that way?! What was I thinking? I knew there were hills. Hills are hard. I wont come this way again today. I am happy to be almost back in front of my house.</em><br />
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To Mile Five:<br />
<em>I gotta use the bathroom. Dang. Why do I always have to use the bathroom on my run? This is so annoying. What if I have to use the bathroom during the marathon and there isnt a portapotty? I guess I would start walking. That would stink. Then I wouldn't make my goal. Oh, geez. I hope I make it back home. I really gotta go. I am gonna go really fast inside and leave my ipod running. Its gonna add wasted time to my run, but I gotta go. Hurry. Hurry. I am NOT going that far to the cemetery again.</em><br />
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To Mile Six:<br />
<em>Hey Davy Dog! You musta been sleeping earlier. Glad you aren't dead. You sure do get excited to go for a run. You are a weird little dog. Let's go, Davy! I am in a good rhythm. I feel like I could run forever. My breathing isn't hard. My legs feel good. I'm glad it stopped raining. When did it even stop? I didn't notice. It's getting hot. It was so cold just a little bit ago. I'm glad it warmed up. I wonder if it will be warm on marathon day? Probably not. December might be really cold. Man, I hate the cold weather. This weather is perfect. Man, I feel so great. I love running. I am so glad I am a runner. I am halfway finished. Maybe I should run back to the cemetery again.</em><br />
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To Mile Seven:<br />
<em>I think I will run back to the cemetery. It's really pretty there. I hate just running back and forth to that dang tree. The same two miles over and over. But, if I run to the cemetery, I will have to do the hills. They weren't THAT bad, though. Plus, I will get to see the pretty trees. The run is much nicer that way. Yes. I will go back to the cememtery.</em><br />
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To Mile Eight:<br />
<em>I hope the dogs aren't out this time. Why do people even have big dogs? What is the point? I hate dogs. I have my cell phone. If I see one coming I will dial Daddy while I am running to climb that tree. I wonder if the dog could reach my legs up on that tree? Maybe another tree would be better.. Oh, there is a tree I could climb in! Please be no dogs. No dogs. No dogs. Hey....where is MY dog? Davy must've stopped back at the church. I didnt even notice he wasnt with me. I don't see any dogs out. Thank goodness. This road is really nice. It's prettiest in the Fall. When the leaves start changing. My Sunday morning runs will be even better when the leaves start changing. I love fall leaves. This downhill is awesome. I wonder if Mom knows I run around the cememtery sometimes and 'visit' with PawPaw? That headstone is ridiculously pretty. When I die, I hope I have a pretty headstone. Hey, PawPaw! </em><br />
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To Mile Nine:<br />
<em>These hills are horrible! Horrible! Why in the world do I choose to run up these hills?? .....Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming....just keep swimming...LaLalala. I am so weird. I am seriously weird. I am not even swimming! </em><br />
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To Mile Ten:<br />
<em>So glad to be back closer to home. We have a really pretty church. I hope I can get finished and cleaned up in time to not be late to church. I kind of like the familiarity of this route. Maybe I should've just kept running this same mile over and over. At least it is flatter. But, no....I am happy that I ran to the cemetery. It passed the miles more quickly. I like it there. I am so glad to be back to my starting point to get some Gatorade and a GU packet. Yuck! This GU tastes terrible. Like flavored molasses. *gag* ....Oh, now THAT was attractive. *gag* I hope I don't do that on race day in front of people. That would be embarrasing. I have three miles to go. I can handle that. I can't believe I am running a half marathon today and I am not even getting a stupid shirt. Who cares? It's just a shirt. But I really wish I could have one. I also wish that I was crossing a real finish line in 3 miles....not just running up my driveway. I wish people would be cheering for me when I finish this half marathon distance. That's dumb, though. I am gonna be running farther than this every week until December. I won't have a finish line and a tshirt every week. I still wish I had a tshirt. Oh, my gosh! I can't even believe that I signed up to run 26 miles! My feet are hurting. How does this dog keep running so far? His legs are sooo short! My little teensy dog is traing for a marathon with me. I wonder if that is normal for a dog? It seems pretty weird. How does this dog run so far?</em><br />
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To Mile Eleven:<br />
<em>I am hungry. That protein bar was good. I wish I had some more of it. When I finish running, I think I will put some Nutella on one of those biscuits. I hope the boys didnt eat all of the biscuits. A Nutella biscuit sounds so good. I hope the boys aren't worried about me. I hope they don't ever get irritated that I go for runs. They don't act like they mind. I am hungry. My toes hurt. I am gonna have a blister. I can feel my toes rubbing. Why do my toes always rub? I'm glad nothing else hurts. Two miles to go. I am hungry.</em><br />
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To Mile Twelve:<br />
<em>Just two miles to go. That is nothing. Back and forth to the tree. ......Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...just keep swimming...Lalalala. I wish I had a cooler mantra. I should search for a new mantra. Mine is weird. Ow. My toes hurt. Ow. Ow. Ow. I could eat an egg and cheese biscuit when I get back. Oh, I know! I can make my peanut butter and banana smoothie icecream stuff. Oh, that sounds soooo good! I wish I had some right now. I want to take a warm bath, too. My toes hurt. I hope they aren't bleeding. I need some new socks. Maybe mine are worn out. I need new shoes, too. Man, I wore out these shoes quick! Or maybe, not? When did I get these shoes? It's been a while since I got them. I need new ones. My toes hurt. Its already past 9:00. I didnt start early enough. I hope the boys aren't worried. Ow. My toes hurt. I am hungry. I wish I had a finish line. I want a tshirt. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.</em><br />
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To Mile Thirteen:<br />
<em>This is my last mile. I am running a half marathon today. Before church! It seems weird. I shouldve started earlier. I am running a great pace, though. I should be able to make my running goal if I keep running at this pace. I wonder if I can beat Daddy's marathon time? That would be cool. I wonder if he would be upset if I beat him? Nah. He would be proud. My toes are hurting. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I wish I didnt have toenails. If they would go ahead and all fall off, then they wouldn't hurt when I ran. I am hungry. I'm thirsty, too. I am almost finished. Almost there. How in the world is this dog still running? Almost there. </em><br />
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To Mile Thirteen Point Five:<br />
<em>I'm almost finished. I can see the driveway. I see my Gatorade bottle. Almost there. ....Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming....Just keep swimming...Lalalala. When I get home, I can eat some Nutella on a tortilla shell. I might eat my peanut butter banana smoothie. I can eat anything. How many calories does this muc running burn? I think it's like 1500 or something. I can't wait to eat something. Taking a warm bath is gonna feel nice. I hope the boys are ok. They wouldve texted if anything went wrong. My toes hurt. Ow. Ow. Ow. ......just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, just keep swimming Lalalala. Oh, my gosh! I am there! It's right there! Almost! Almost! This is the farthest I have ever ran before. I did good. I am proud. I can't believe I have to double this distance eventually. How will I ever do it? I did it today. I am finished. Yes! Good job.</em><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-87263584137779895222012-09-04T18:42:00.002-07:002012-09-04T18:42:40.981-07:00The Benefits of Running<div style="text-align: center;">
My afternoon didn't go as planned and I was <em>super</em> grouchy. I was irritated that the evening I had planned didn't come to be and I felt the daggers coming out of my eyes. I was just daring somebody to say something to me because I was ready to <em>pounce</em>. My responses to others were short and my blood was boiling inside. It was just one of <em>those</em> afternoons. </div>
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I texted Bradley, my hubs, and let him know how frustrated I was with a lengthy text explaining my woes. Then, I texted him.....</div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">I need to go run.</span></em></div>
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If you are not a runner, then you may not understand this need. The need for me to run at that moment came from the depths of my soul. I physically <em>yearned</em> to go for a run. I was aching for it. I knew that a run would instantly improve my spirits and set me back on the path of happiness. Thankfully, my husband understood. He agreed to take over at football practice so that I could come back home and run.</div>
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I cannot describe to you how theraputic a run is for me. Of course, I have days where running feels like a chore. I have lots of those. But, then there are days when I can't get my shoes tied quickly enough. I am so eager to get out there and hit the road. Today was one of those eager days. And the run today was <em>fantastic! </em></div>
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I am sitting here typing this all drenched in sweat. Feeling happy. Feeling rejuvenated. Feeling all better. The stars are now back in line as they should be because of my run. </div>
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The benefits of running are endless....so I created this little photo to show my love for the sport......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL95qh2TxegiaK2Mkc_vDpCBjPcC1bxN5nBUGIs3gkAglNykbY8aqCygHJFITNmQznDpld3Yfo5qsPEmRLRPemg8_4YVMMJ0b3O67ZO6wr9U3uZ2NJD-cNrX-FpesCPlkGNtvn0jiXe8Y/s1600/the+benefits+of+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL95qh2TxegiaK2Mkc_vDpCBjPcC1bxN5nBUGIs3gkAglNykbY8aqCygHJFITNmQznDpld3Yfo5qsPEmRLRPemg8_4YVMMJ0b3O67ZO6wr9U3uZ2NJD-cNrX-FpesCPlkGNtvn0jiXe8Y/s400/the+benefits+of+running.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-86955640661447626152012-08-26T19:28:00.001-07:002012-08-27T11:47:13.482-07:00My Turn for 26.2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhqXdm_cVBC_U8d8JbmYYzRmoyNyzNlhApqHBldk6otztV8lHKmUgfKmToOe626hAKH_iV2VIYDPJU3yj842ZMEgZncaP6RpLs0krKFk_6MfY8Se0IJ2d35RiLbAHB0L3MUVdCd2Bpq8/s1600/marathon+training+motivation.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhqXdm_cVBC_U8d8JbmYYzRmoyNyzNlhApqHBldk6otztV8lHKmUgfKmToOe626hAKH_iV2VIYDPJU3yj842ZMEgZncaP6RpLs0krKFk_6MfY8Se0IJ2d35RiLbAHB0L3MUVdCd2Bpq8/s400/marathon+training+motivation.jpg.jpg" width="400" yda="true" /></a></div>
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Many, MANY years ago.....I stood along the side of the road in Hunstville, Alabama. It was 17 degrees and our family huddled together on the sidewalk craning our necks to see. We were staring down the road looking at the runners....Trying to catch a glimpse of him coming.</div>
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"There he is! He is coming!</div>
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Go Daddy! You can do it!</div>
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Run, Daddy, Run!"</div>
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My heart swelled with pride as my Daddy ran past us, giving us a smile and a wave.</div>
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He was running a marathon.....A feat I viewed as <em>completely</em> <span style="font-size: large;">super</span>human.</div>
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Impossible for a "<em>normal</em>" person.</div>
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I figured he and the other marathoners must have been born with some sort of genetic abnormality that allowed them to accomplish such an<em> insane</em> achievement.</div>
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Run for 26.2 miles? </div>
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Ha! </div>
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Over 4 hours of running without a break?</div>
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What??!</div>
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How can a human body physically hold up to that?</div>
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All these years of wonder and amazement at the grand accomplishment of my Daddy and the other marathoners I watched that day.....and I am now ready to add my name to the list of people who have achieved the goal.</div>
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My miles of running has been building over the years after Daddy ran his marathon. I started with 5K's, then moved to a couple of 10K's, to a 10 miler, to ...most recently a couple of half-marathons. </div>
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I have learned over the years of pounding out the miles...that neither Daddy...nor any other marathoner....was born with a genetic abnormality.....they just got out there and RAN.</div>
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....and ran.</div>
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.....and ran.</div>
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....and ran.</div>
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And so did I.</div>
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And during all those miles of running....my body began to YEARN to run a full marathon. </div>
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So.....last night....I registered for one. </div>
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I registered for a full...26.2 mile marathon....coming up this December.</div>
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The very same marathon in Huntsville that I stood on the sidewalk and watched my Daddy run all those years ago.</div>
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Except now....it is MY turn to be on the street running. My family...and my Daddy....will be standing on the sidewalk watching for me to run past.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-20825926374854340022012-06-03T13:51:00.002-07:002012-06-03T14:00:08.692-07:00Hiking The Walls of Jericho<div style="text-align: center;">
I was able to rack up some really awesome Mommy Miles hiking yesterday with my favorite guys in the whole world! We heard about a place to hike about an hour and a half north of our home a while back called "The Walls of Jericho". After some research, we knew that we needed to be able to set aside a full day to do the hike because of the drive to it and the length of the hike. Yesterday was the day.</div>
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We packed up plenty of snacks, lunches and Powerade for our hike and hit the road. Each of the boys got a new "Camelback" backpack this Spring so they could carry their own hydration and lunch on our hikes. This was their first time to try them out and they worked beautifully!</div>
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We searched and searched for good directions to The Walls of Jericho trailhead and never really found them online. The only directions we found were to go 25 miles past Scottsboro on Alabama Highway 79. Luckily, these directions worked out just fine for us. We drove straight to it without any problem. A better description, though, is that the trailhead is just a mile or two North of the town of Hytop, Alabama on Highway 79. As a matter of fact, the town of Hytop boasts that it is "The Gateway to The Walls of Jericho".</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvTsrqK7phaz4pOz-MPbMMrDJe1JlOtbLvwvE7HvaJODPhquW7d_iRj-VSTrGYOM5FZenz_pb0aSpg47n52pSAsvWfVQlStKQClMHXlcYI29WrJazFS2XrPKReiTD4F1rLl-sriywBOk/s1600/Walls+of+Jericho+trailhead+alabama.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvTsrqK7phaz4pOz-MPbMMrDJe1JlOtbLvwvE7HvaJODPhquW7d_iRj-VSTrGYOM5FZenz_pb0aSpg47n52pSAsvWfVQlStKQClMHXlcYI29WrJazFS2XrPKReiTD4F1rLl-sriywBOk/s400/Walls+of+Jericho+trailhead+alabama.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We entered the trail in perfect hiking weather. June 1st in Alabama is typically hot and balmy, but as luck would have it, it rained the night before our hike and cooled the air to a comfortbale 75 degrees. The weather was perfect throughout the hike. If it had been warmer, staying hydrated for our hike would have been a bigger issue. </div>
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We hiked at a comfortable pace for the boys. We generally like to stop often when we see something that fascinates the boys....and pretty much <em>everything</em> is fascinating to kids. We stopped to walk on logs, to look at bugs, to look into sinkholes, and just to rest. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxX2a2rm7ATHygNPBWrIfAl6QHN6bssGrfYFhhJ7oazCqhKeWi3LJgCtjwJtKfSzqH5yY0ffCL0L90avUxcEDpJHA-lmfEJx30NT-LZ9V3wji49Swz-5Yo7i0Xvo6rI1eWzNBCYyA3_4/s1600/walls+of+jericho+hiking+trail+hole.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxX2a2rm7ATHygNPBWrIfAl6QHN6bssGrfYFhhJ7oazCqhKeWi3LJgCtjwJtKfSzqH5yY0ffCL0L90avUxcEDpJHA-lmfEJx30NT-LZ9V3wji49Swz-5Yo7i0Xvo6rI1eWzNBCYyA3_4/s400/walls+of+jericho+hiking+trail+hole.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPe3IxfBTuhrKrHtKEdAdaYhrv8A4Pthjth5rmdD6XHjxuJTa_qJDEBZtctSfs5LmpI0yULkmVXYfy71aonzzT7YzENegbsYPRreOYF8LXCkM5n4CK2BiasPmMr-q8KmBMHW0EMKFsUo/s1600/walls+of+jericho+hike+fallen+log.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPe3IxfBTuhrKrHtKEdAdaYhrv8A4Pthjth5rmdD6XHjxuJTa_qJDEBZtctSfs5LmpI0yULkmVXYfy71aonzzT7YzENegbsYPRreOYF8LXCkM5n4CK2BiasPmMr-q8KmBMHW0EMKFsUo/s400/walls+of+jericho+hike+fallen+log.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>
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We stopped and meandered off the trail several times, but our favorite stops along the trail were at the footbridges and the cemetery.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmheRRKYGhr9ONoUtLXlhltqJJuy7Ai_DPL40OVQgBX79dTmNq8DYTNeixEremOlr6qyXuOWU6Fz0Vuh5C7cj2TYPVEZ-LlLblRHN5ArXIaYsjMcxQ4l8e7doHCTkJB-wUtCLP3lo-TI/s1600/walls+of+jericho+trail+clark+cemetery.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmheRRKYGhr9ONoUtLXlhltqJJuy7Ai_DPL40OVQgBX79dTmNq8DYTNeixEremOlr6qyXuOWU6Fz0Vuh5C7cj2TYPVEZ-LlLblRHN5ArXIaYsjMcxQ4l8e7doHCTkJB-wUtCLP3lo-TI/s320/walls+of+jericho+trail+clark+cemetery.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The cememtery was grown up and had only this one grave marker that had an inscription. The other markers were just plain rock markers. The little cemetery so far from current civilization, really made us curious about the Clark family that obviously once called this area their home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vraZJ8URysPM-W7ESgsJ_6e2PEekOs4a4yvA8lX8u4M6PLXgebM92laJY6WzG180ULr-EW-UDAiaV9Li6xLpYlEFmbLi9MgVg1rCvYrKnMG0rlEtiAs2ZSrGglx9LOt87UYKhW6QCnQ/s1600/walls+of+jericho+hurricane+creek+footbridge.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vraZJ8URysPM-W7ESgsJ_6e2PEekOs4a4yvA8lX8u4M6PLXgebM92laJY6WzG180ULr-EW-UDAiaV9Li6xLpYlEFmbLi9MgVg1rCvYrKnMG0rlEtiAs2ZSrGglx9LOt87UYKhW6QCnQ/s400/walls+of+jericho+hurricane+creek+footbridge.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>
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During the hike down to The Walls of Jericho, we crossed over two of these log footbridges. The bridges are simply made from a fallen log with a hand crafted railing. The bridge is certainly sturdy enough, but with our entire family on it walking together, it gave enough of a shake that it added to the excitement. The first footbridge crossed over Hurricane Creek, which was flowing with water on the day we crossed. We stopped just across the creek, where a bench had been placed for a refueling snack. The boys also spent some time looking for fish and critters off the bridge.</div>
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The second footbridge crossed over a dry creekbed. I have read that during a thunderstorm or after a heavy rain, that this creek bed can become filled with a swift moving stream. Until recently, the footbridges were not there, which made access to the Walls of Jericho dangerous during rainy season.</div>
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Besides being safer, I think the bridges add charm to the hike, without making it feel too "man made". </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFbgSwkSpE52n4KYTdZ1YINvXsLROVXB7LaEw8sl4Mw7lQ4-_ayeFoU3Rm5VgpDBKgfaspxFScAR_bvciG16Lmz8DMX40RcR70s91XJvLrvcLrXWimsdGfmE43VYNx5zRaS8ha-qRkbw/s1600/walls+of+jericho+footbridge+over+dry+creek.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFbgSwkSpE52n4KYTdZ1YINvXsLROVXB7LaEw8sl4Mw7lQ4-_ayeFoU3Rm5VgpDBKgfaspxFScAR_bvciG16Lmz8DMX40RcR70s91XJvLrvcLrXWimsdGfmE43VYNx5zRaS8ha-qRkbw/s400/walls+of+jericho+footbridge+over+dry+creek.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It took us just over 2 hours to get into the gorge area. The hike down into the gorge was almost completely downhill and filled with switchbacks. Throughout the downhill portions of the hike, we built up a sort of dread for the hike back out. Although hiking downhill is always pleasurable, it causes some alarm when thinking about the inevitable hike back up. </div>
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As we hiked the last bit of the trail into the gorge, we were able to hear the water falling and we knew we were close to the canyon. The last bit of hiking was the most treacherous of the entire trip in, as it included rugged terrain and some fairly sheer drop offs. We were driven to get to the end of the hike and were instantly rewarded with this sight.....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9969p_Wac8A5nhQY_yPvjmVRztRMMBQzohLuCLfdLGORK-LOsvI7j-g94372jz_3KRv2Gfy_U80X2ezUG3qL-JY8Lug6O2Q-Xrp5u8-HTrfI5cek0ebFZ-0qROtb_41zHzrul-Ayz6T8/s1600/Walls+of+Jericho+Family+Hike.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9969p_Wac8A5nhQY_yPvjmVRztRMMBQzohLuCLfdLGORK-LOsvI7j-g94372jz_3KRv2Gfy_U80X2ezUG3qL-JY8Lug6O2Q-Xrp5u8-HTrfI5cek0ebFZ-0qROtb_41zHzrul-Ayz6T8/s400/Walls+of+Jericho+Family+Hike.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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As we entered the Walls of Jericho area, this naturally formed pool was the first sight we saw. We were immediately taken aback at how crystal clear the water was. We were instantly saddened by the fact that we didn't bring our swim suits. The water falling off the rocks and into the pool simply <em>begged </em>to be swam in. We now have plans to hike back to The Walls of Jericho, if for no other reason than to swim in this water.</div>
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For a bit, we thought that this natural pool was the main attraction of The Walls of Jericho. But after a few minutes of exploring, we hiked farther up the rocks and found this area.....</div>
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This natural amphitheatre area was a blast to explore and made the perfect setting for our picnic lunch. We managed to keep the boys sitting still long enough to refuel with lunches and drinks before they were off again exploring the area. We spent about 2 hours down in the Walls area. The boys clambored over the rocks, caught tadpoles that were abundant in the shallow pools on the rocks, waded in the water, and explored the caves and alcoves.</div>
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At one point while we were down in the gorge, a young couple came clamoring over the rocks and walked up to us. They asked....</div>
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"Excuse us, but is there <em>any</em> other way to get back <em>out</em> of here besides the way we came in?"</div>
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We explained that the only way to get back out was to hike the 3-4 miles back out......uphill.</div>
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They replied...."That's what we were afraid of. We are dreading the hike out and was hoping there was a short cut to get out."</div>
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Our belief is that the most beautiful natural sights require some effort to see, so the strenuous hike back up didn't seem quite as horrific to us as it did to the young couple.</div>
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We kept a watch on our time inside the gorge, knowing that we needed to allot 3 hours to hike out. We knew that it was time to begin our ascent back to the top. </div>
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We gathered up all of our discarded gear.....</div>
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...and started our hike back up.</div>
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Although we feared that the hike back out would be too strenuous for our family, we quite enjoyed it!</div>
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The hike out was <em>definitely</em> uphill, but we took it slow and worked in several rest stops.</div>
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Even taking breaks, it took us only about 2 1/2 hours to hike back out of the gorge. The hike out wasn't nearly as bad as we feared it would be. Thankfully, the switchbacks are designed to give you some flat hiking interspersed with the uphills. It made hiking out quite bearable.</div>
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If I were to give our day of hiking a ranking, I would give it a 9 out of 10. The weather was perfect. We had plenty of drinks and snacks, the scenery was lovely, the trail was well marked, and the conditions were perfect. The only thing that would've pushed the hike up to a 10 would've been if we had carried our swimsuits. It also would have been nice if water had been running in the dry creek bed and out of the holes in the canyon walls. But, those things are quite minor. They just make us want to go back to see it again after a rain.</div>
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I wore a Nike+ sensor throughout the hike to see how many miles it recorded. Although the sign at the trailhead proclaims that the hike is 6 miles round trip, my sensor recorded it as 8.25 miles. I have read other people reporting that the trail is actually farther than posted as well. So if you choose to hike....you are in for a treat....just keep in mind that the hike is fairly strenuous and is likely farther than 6 miles. Take plenty of fluids and allot plenty of time to stop and enjoy the beauty that surrounds you. </div>
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I would highly recommend this hike to able bodied people who are <em>at least</em> fairly fit and who are looking for a great... <em>free</em> way to spend time together as a family.</div>
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We are already searching for our next hiking destination.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-1686809518049120992012-05-28T11:44:00.001-07:002012-05-28T11:57:02.541-07:00Magic City Mudder<div style="text-align: center;">
Running in the mud and conquering obstacles with my friends may be my new favorite kind of running. </div>
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This weekend, I joined a group of my running girlfriends at the Magic City Mudder in Springville, Alabama. We had an absolute blast! It was a different kind of running challange. One that focuses on enjoying the experience and finishing together. No one cared about the time it took to finish. I actually have <em>no idea</em> how long it took us to get to the finish line.</div>
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This was a 5K Mud Run that included 20 obstacles in 3 miles. Throughout the 5K, we trekked through several mud pits, jumped through tires, climbed over hay bales, scaled a wall, army crawled through sand, ran over hills, bear crawled through culverts, and crawled under muddy rope obstacles. </div>
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The 5K was over before I knew it and we have talking about it nonstop since it ended. Our group has already signed up for our next challenge coming up in a few weeks. We are eager to chart more experiences together while being active at the same time. I am so lucky to be surrounded by friends who value friendships, a healthy lifestyle, and a good dose of <strong>dirt</strong>.</div>
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And of course, I was still a Mommy during this race. I carried my 3 little guys with me. They were happily my race photographers. My two little ones were able to play in the Kids Mud Pit and Tucker is now <em>itching</em> for next year when he will be old enough to participate with me. My goal is to model a healthy lifestyle for my boys and I get all giddy when they want to participate with me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE17eVmUqF8gwMBdGBvdno-mQ9GlXvlG8z7PzMosCJAS9g9zfXy1YUOuf38wk3duO2aVzPnDiWx285DdYQBTPR_flz9Lc9gwmK2YimFPUOlieD5v0dnga6MfGin8XPMnuEg2Nsezky81w/s1600/magic+city+mudder+with+kids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE17eVmUqF8gwMBdGBvdno-mQ9GlXvlG8z7PzMosCJAS9g9zfXy1YUOuf38wk3duO2aVzPnDiWx285DdYQBTPR_flz9Lc9gwmK2YimFPUOlieD5v0dnga6MfGin8XPMnuEg2Nsezky81w/s400/magic+city+mudder+with+kids.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-16222816006248289122012-05-07T15:39:00.004-07:002012-05-07T15:39:46.135-07:00Snot Rockets and Loogie Spitters<div style="text-align: center;">
Before I was a runner, I had no idea what a Snot Rocket was. And I had no idea that there was socially acceptable occassion in which loogie spitting was embraced. I now consider myself well versed in the execution of the Snot Rocket and the expulsion of the loogie.</div>
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Now, let me<em> clarify</em>....</div>
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I,<em> myself</em>, am not a loogie spitter or a snot rocket blower. I suppose that my body just doesn't produce an excess amount of these type fluids for me to feel the urge to expel them from my body during a run. Although I am not a Snot Rocketeer or a Loogie Spitter, I realize than some people must take part in this exercise.....and I am not looking down on them for that. Nay, nay.....we<em> all</em> have our issues to overcome while running. </div>
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Throughout the last few years of running, I have learned that there are certain unwritten rules that runners follow when expelling the Snot Rocket or the Loogie.</div>
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1. Check over your shoulder for a nearby runner before blasting</div>
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2. Administer with force so that the remains aren't left on your face</div>
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3. Never lose stride</div>
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4. Pretend you didn't do it. </div>
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During my most recent half marathon...I was witness to all matter of Snot Rockets and loogie spittings. It was going on ALL AROUND me. At one point, I was even feeling like a bit of an underachiever since I had <em>nothing</em> to blast. Oh, the joys of the distance run.</div>
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Yesterday, my email inbox pinged. The download link to the Nashville Half Marathon photos from the official race photographers had arrived. I was giddy with excitement as I scrolled through the photos.</div>
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I was happy to see this shot of me grinning like a possum and covered in sweat just across the finish line......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEu5xKdxpaFnXYHDzQ4ERR-RerXKWg-BIJF-MqJwBIhod9PfxsNt_lBrYVzGy66xcpwP67o5VJbaKx7Kv6Cd3rqUXJPSSEyFWlGQXlq_qqJCNeQVZ1D6cL2CQUq2ljSIPTwsHOO8vM0kg/s1600/finish+line+smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEu5xKdxpaFnXYHDzQ4ERR-RerXKWg-BIJF-MqJwBIhod9PfxsNt_lBrYVzGy66xcpwP67o5VJbaKx7Kv6Cd3rqUXJPSSEyFWlGQXlq_qqJCNeQVZ1D6cL2CQUq2ljSIPTwsHOO8vM0kg/s400/finish+line+smile.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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I loved this shot that shows my determination to power through those darned hills.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBZvzhp9AVMlGKF9gk56xbllHxaIQwZg44ChBLhOS8u4J7eMX3xSCTbM1Zd4egk2upzvP25C3wHtiTSUmAvX7HK0UH5MO41COyDk-u7x9OV84o0OVwJtOmGwVqOfMNSrSZ3yh8195OQY/s1600/nashville+concentration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBZvzhp9AVMlGKF9gk56xbllHxaIQwZg44ChBLhOS8u4J7eMX3xSCTbM1Zd4egk2upzvP25C3wHtiTSUmAvX7HK0UH5MO41COyDk-u7x9OV84o0OVwJtOmGwVqOfMNSrSZ3yh8195OQY/s400/nashville+concentration.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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I loved this thumbs up one. I was obviously thrilled here because I was finally running <em>down</em>hill.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCxuun0bAGxi4ZP7LyBLjdx6u48sZ-8sevnqEbKbozGB0U4T9khoUX1-Zs_KQkeN7qM6ceY8Q7IDSiO1qCUzKvtxVceBaqu5-XQnzNRAWKS8pjrpWTRDrkg14XbNtV2oE4MsZE1OX_kw/s1600/nashville+thumbs+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCxuun0bAGxi4ZP7LyBLjdx6u48sZ-8sevnqEbKbozGB0U4T9khoUX1-Zs_KQkeN7qM6ceY8Q7IDSiO1qCUzKvtxVceBaqu5-XQnzNRAWKS8pjrpWTRDrkg14XbNtV2oE4MsZE1OX_kw/s400/nashville+thumbs+up.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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And then in this one, I was looking a bit more weary, but still had the energy for a wave. </div>
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But... wait a minute....what's <em>that</em>?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Vk4062zjsreF6N1DgQtElzmcEa4U_MAEIKjLpGCY2rYNLrhqTBXemny3TTIfSgTJm1MdkYb5jVSSG2yoGK6Rm9ZQU2vOrCXtCH0IsyffabPvudU3JH6lWt6klnDI85jCJ9nR8EXqOJg/s1600/nashville+running+wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Vk4062zjsreF6N1DgQtElzmcEa4U_MAEIKjLpGCY2rYNLrhqTBXemny3TTIfSgTJm1MdkYb5jVSSG2yoGK6Rm9ZQU2vOrCXtCH0IsyffabPvudU3JH6lWt6klnDI85jCJ9nR8EXqOJg/s400/nashville+running+wave.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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Upon closer inspection.....</div>
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I realized that the race photographer had successfully recorded a <em>loogie spitter</em> in the photo.....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL5CEEXmdLNEN00x_boDrjgXW5yR6b7h_HEO0IT6uIIbb33Tj6xvF1WviqyFb3JNH3vsLj6cJxXPREvt_km8GIRpoDyyDaUs0aM6pUvW2288JUDchCNj_xHFkwIhMtar4fFcsOCiKgC4/s1600/nashville+marathon+loogie+spit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL5CEEXmdLNEN00x_boDrjgXW5yR6b7h_HEO0IT6uIIbb33Tj6xvF1WviqyFb3JNH3vsLj6cJxXPREvt_km8GIRpoDyyDaUs0aM6pUvW2288JUDchCNj_xHFkwIhMtar4fFcsOCiKgC4/s400/nashville+marathon+loogie+spit.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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Beautiful.</div>
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Now.....if only I had a photo of a Snot Rocket....</div>
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my life would be complete.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-82245623950210291842012-05-06T17:26:00.001-07:002012-05-06T17:26:12.287-07:00Rave Runs<div style="text-align: center;">
Back before I did all of my running and fitness reading on the web, I subscribed to Runner's World magazine. It's a great magazine, but I no longer subscribe because I do so much reading on my Kindle these days. My most favorite page in Runner's World was the page called <em>Rave Run</em>. I miss that page.</div>
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The <em>Rave Run</em> page wasn't an article, it was just a photograph.... with a caption. The caption simply stated where the location was that the photograph was taken. Each time my magazine came in the mail, I always flipped straight to that page. The <em>Rave Run</em> was always some fabulously amazing destination in which a runner was running. Real places and a real runner. I dream of those places.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEDTLHnuzF3aZZWnC4tDV6zGxbI-olJdojRMPy6ME_8QmsIHwDLCpEmQP5i1jFC9X2OVjzfotGYjXkXn2HzpaycOMunETVnlgxI5OMoaDZJ9dC_firMSq_IlhvobJa2xJ3FsYQPaQg8U/s1600/guy+running+by+the+ocean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEDTLHnuzF3aZZWnC4tDV6zGxbI-olJdojRMPy6ME_8QmsIHwDLCpEmQP5i1jFC9X2OVjzfotGYjXkXn2HzpaycOMunETVnlgxI5OMoaDZJ9dC_firMSq_IlhvobJa2xJ3FsYQPaQg8U/s400/guy+running+by+the+ocean.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWBgKXCQuKgoPlMCktIAULvdCIIok7iYHPiD3eZIyc_R8eWwEb8aQW0q291JlQmOaujbJH7s9C4hbSAC_A1mHIFS8UMRaA7yXv8uC_9bC1wIyasdlcZ66KPXjLYd-Qti1GMh7T8St0Go/s1600/guy+running+in+yellowstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWBgKXCQuKgoPlMCktIAULvdCIIok7iYHPiD3eZIyc_R8eWwEb8aQW0q291JlQmOaujbJH7s9C4hbSAC_A1mHIFS8UMRaA7yXv8uC_9bC1wIyasdlcZ66KPXjLYd-Qti1GMh7T8St0Go/s400/guy+running+in+yellowstone.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(I walked on this boardwalk, but didn't run there.)</div>
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In the years that I have been running, when I see some breathtaking place, I imagine myself there as a <em>Rave Runner</em>. Just getting out and going for a run in my usual neighborhood is always rejuvenating and is a great way to de-stress, but running somewhere new is always an even bigger treat.</div>
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This weekend, our family went camping.....not too far away from home, because we had to drive back and forth to baseball games. During our camping trip, the boys were thrilled to get to spend time right outside our camper fishing with their Daddy.</div>
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And I was ecstatic to squeeze in a 6 mile run while they did so.</div>
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It was such a refreshing run to be able to run the entire 6 miles alongside the river.....with my little exercise buddy tagging along behind me on his bicycle. Getting to complete a run in a new place with a change of scenery is the icing on the cake for a vacation.</div>
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Although the run wasn't in a <em>magazine worthy</em> location, it was my own version of a <em>Rave Run</em>.</div>
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Hopefully, I will be able to share more lovely running locations here on <em>Mommy Miles</em> as I encounter them.</div>
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Where are some of your favorite places to run?</div>
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I'd love to hear about them!</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-77227843654756079132012-05-02T17:31:00.002-07:002012-05-02T17:31:10.528-07:00Nashville Country Music Half-Marathon Recap<div style="text-align: center;">
This half-marathon was only my second one ever...so I wouldn't say that I am a very good judge of what makes a marathon a "good marathon" or a "bad one". That being said....I would say that this one was a positive experience.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZKddudDGvK4wlZ4QedvidzP470Zex0LaF41wwVt1j6fExi-HimNsugfBoRjx9_s-Ib2LR-pugEzKFeEM54QwRHVYRfT12jt0fCLnWCIkavE3g0fcZUDab87kEAKLHtZiRnuyqdFe7o8/s1600/rock+n+roll+medals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZKddudDGvK4wlZ4QedvidzP470Zex0LaF41wwVt1j6fExi-HimNsugfBoRjx9_s-Ib2LR-pugEzKFeEM54QwRHVYRfT12jt0fCLnWCIkavE3g0fcZUDab87kEAKLHtZiRnuyqdFe7o8/s320/rock+n+roll+medals.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From my perspective, here is the good, the bad and the ugly....</div>
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The negatives of the race would have to be the HILLS and the running crowd. Although I did some training on hills, I wasn't quite prepared for the <em>entire race</em> to be up and down hill. I don't think there was a quarter mile stretch at any point during the race that was flat. It was rolling hills the entire way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBJVQkKegtPmdVrUf8M9lU8akYOWoL3sC-RQrYrAj5lhKNwrjCGdE21jCYckYtlHcg50xsmf_geM3rB8AbWSIR2y7K75iOMAlPT2bdRRmQSfnOuP_DdWhRLM1wSycyY6UzJtH5lpXlWM/s1600/downhilll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBJVQkKegtPmdVrUf8M9lU8akYOWoL3sC-RQrYrAj5lhKNwrjCGdE21jCYckYtlHcg50xsmf_geM3rB8AbWSIR2y7K75iOMAlPT2bdRRmQSfnOuP_DdWhRLM1wSycyY6UzJtH5lpXlWM/s320/downhilll.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And having a huge hill from mile 12 to 13 was almost my undoing. I had to have a serious talk with myself to keep from walking part of mile 12. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIuU3sPfeU0C2H8CJRSbAMR4N30Jt2esVi8V_G44tPcB4S36vczVnskFa7XAYN2VXpO98z-Z2UiVxa4aDwBcbbv1tRMyql9NLkGdW0L2cSr_d2Ad-Mlq_zhLaBR7cVO272c_uUTDQBLw/s1600/mile+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIuU3sPfeU0C2H8CJRSbAMR4N30Jt2esVi8V_G44tPcB4S36vczVnskFa7XAYN2VXpO98z-Z2UiVxa4aDwBcbbv1tRMyql9NLkGdW0L2cSr_d2Ad-Mlq_zhLaBR7cVO272c_uUTDQBLw/s320/mile+12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I thought the course was quite difficult.</div>
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The crowd of racers was also a bit of an interference. People kept stopping to walk right in front of me causing me to have to slam on my brakes or dart around. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoPYXZAOj_dUnydKE2ldS9UOhoypJN_Whyphenhyphen6IV3UBMEpY7gPtPN1p8a9a-gU6KoXFfB_C3oD49Tyh1yImfVGCKkzcUSIEQ4XB5PG1Qim7sJOPHrY3Npsn7g-6XEyDlHlFNVV4DFKwU6Kg/s1600/start+line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoPYXZAOj_dUnydKE2ldS9UOhoypJN_Whyphenhyphen6IV3UBMEpY7gPtPN1p8a9a-gU6KoXFfB_C3oD49Tyh1yImfVGCKkzcUSIEQ4XB5PG1Qim7sJOPHrY3Npsn7g-6XEyDlHlFNVV4DFKwU6Kg/s320/start+line.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The course was so packed with racers that running my own pace was difficult. I felt like I kept just having to run the pace of whoever was in front of me because I kept getting jammed up.</div>
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The UGLY part of the race was that I am a Mommy of 3 boys who weighed in the 10 pound range at birth. My bladder doesn't always cooperate and I had some peeing issues. No one knew....I was sweaty all over anyway. It was my little secret. Except now I told you, so now it's <em>our</em> little secret.</div>
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Still....none of these things were terrible and none of them would cause me to avoid the race in the future.</div>
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Some of the perks of the race were the great organization, the technical shirt, the music, the spectators, and the friends that traveled with me. </div>
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I was baffled by the thought of organizing 32,ooo runners and countless spectators into the racing area on race day. I thought it was very well organized from Expo to finish line. Shuttles were waiting at our hotel to transport runners, the course was well marked, and aid station were easily accessible. The organization of the race was fabulous for such a large number of runners.</div>
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I liked the Brooks techical shirt. I didn't fall in love with the design or color of it, but it's a very nice technical shirt. Brooks makes great gear.</div>
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Having music along the course was a great distraction! I loved hearing all the music blaring from the bands and the stereos. I especially loved the block at Belmont Church! The church here was belting out the praise and worship music and the spectators here were very encouraging!</div>
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The spectators on the course are always my favorite part of a race. I am hesitant to ever even register for a smaller marathon because I get so much encouragment and distraction from reading the specators' signs. Some of the best signs were:</div>
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"Worst Parade Ever"</div>
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"Hey, Where are all Ya'll Going?"</div>
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"You are NOT almost there"</div>
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"This is your distraction"</div>
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"The hard part is over...now enjoy the race."</div>
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"It's Not Sweat...It's Your Fat Cells Crying"</div>
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"Run Like An Angry Kenyan"</div>
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"Toenails Are For Sissies"</div>
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Sometimes, I think I signed up for the half marathon just so I could be cheered on, to people watch and to read the signs.</div>
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The biggest perk of the race was that I got to experience it with some of my buddies. I really enjoyed getting to talk about our fears prerace and discuss our joys and difficulties post race. It made the entire event very fulfilling. </div>
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It would have been even more epic if my guys could've traveled with me. They wanted to join me so bad, but were all tied down to baseball games. I ran with my phone and I got lots of encouraging texts from them all from home. The sent me these texts and more....</div>
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"Keep it up, Mom! We know you can do it!"</div>
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"You're almost there. You've got this!"</div>
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It was almost as good as them being there with me, but not quite.</div>
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Overall, I give this race an exhausted 2 thumbs up!</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-73392051990224128122012-04-29T11:23:00.001-07:002012-04-29T14:43:48.434-07:00Race Day Maladies<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday was the Nashville Half Marathon. That means 13.1 miles in which things can go terribly wrong. Every single person that steps up to the starting line worries about one or more of those things. Some racers worry about not being able to keep their pace, some worry about chaffing, some about a medical emergency, some worry about getting lost on the course, some worry about being last place, others about falling. We all have our concerns before beginning a long distance race.</div>
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Embarrassingly, my greatest race day fear is that I will need to use the bathroom during the race and not be able to get to a portapotty on the course. Lots of others racers must also have this same fear, as is apparent by looking at the lines at the portapottys minutes before the race yesterday..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-_8TbOlxPdU7sgeNRAD-086sfgGJFd7Ch78qg1V35jLNKoahjZl8WAoCmLWKlAvMwFMeswqLH_FBbMfm7cE9lQ1u9CmIHfQtRhRgChrJkh0Nvf1fCob323Xd0UUw_CSy9syVO9ckkNc/s1600/nashville+country+music+portapotty+line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-_8TbOlxPdU7sgeNRAD-086sfgGJFd7Ch78qg1V35jLNKoahjZl8WAoCmLWKlAvMwFMeswqLH_FBbMfm7cE9lQ1u9CmIHfQtRhRgChrJkh0Nvf1fCob323Xd0UUw_CSy9syVO9ckkNc/s400/nashville+country+music+portapotty+line.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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One poor guy that I passed had the most embarrassing moment of his life because he didn't make it to the portapotty and his disaster was visible to other runners. I wanted to cry for the poor dude.</div>
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Fortunately, I have never had a race day bathroom disaster, but it will likely remain at the top of my fear list.</div>
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I saw lots of people dealing with chaffing issues. The medic tents were passing out Vaseline jelly on Popsicle sticks for people to use to rub onto any spots that were causing friction. Only runners in pain would happily accept a Vaseline Popsicle. Thankfully, I did not need a Vaseline Popsicle yesterday.</div>
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During my race pace, I personally had to run around 3 different people who were lying on the road receiving medical attention from paramedics. The friends that traveled with me talked about others who were getting medical attention farther back on the course. I have no idea what their injuries or emergencies were related to, but they were having a bad race day for sure. </div>
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My only race day boo boos yesterday were on my feet...... </div>
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....so I chalk the Nashville Country Music Half Marathon as a race day success! </div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-67415441403149343612012-04-26T20:15:00.001-07:002012-04-26T20:15:50.070-07:00Accidental Carb Loading<div style="text-align: center;">
Two nights ago, I was sitting with my best friend at the ball park. We both have boys, she has 4 and I have 3. Two sets of our boys are on the same baseball teams....the 9 year olds and the 7 year olds. Our 7 year olds were playing and we were cheering, as is typical on any given night. I overheard her explain to her husband that she had left spaghetti on the stove for when he arrived home with part of her gang from a different game. I perked up at the thought of spaghetti. When she got off the phone, I interjected....</div>
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"We haven't had spaghetti in forever! I don't know why I have cooked it in a while."</div>
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So, I made a mental note to go to the store to buy the things I need to have spaghetti for dinner sometime in the next day or two. Today was the day. But just as I was fixing my plate, I giggle as I realized that I had just prepared the most "<em>cliche</em>" prerace meal in the world for the night before I left for my half marathon. Everybody....even nonrunners....talk about eating lots of carbs a day or two prior to a long distance race. But I prepared it with only the thought that it would be yummy and the boys would like it.</div>
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Therefore.....</div>
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I <em>accidentally</em> carb loaded.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVpW2AvSkUE2HKDFtqgeV_qs_GklkYanraGz6J_Gq76e2F6BPOF-C_gXKypK6aUex5EzZXxeIwXdqyDKFTf_rqBwvJW8rjlS9zbS8rwRuT0oUFNx7ushlyUS2Qtb8qekpeegl9iRJwX4c/s1600/carb+loading+before+marathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVpW2AvSkUE2HKDFtqgeV_qs_GklkYanraGz6J_Gq76e2F6BPOF-C_gXKypK6aUex5EzZXxeIwXdqyDKFTf_rqBwvJW8rjlS9zbS8rwRuT0oUFNx7ushlyUS2Qtb8qekpeegl9iRJwX4c/s400/carb+loading+before+marathon.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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And I rather enjoyed it.</div>
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There are all kinds of things that runners are suppose to do before a big race. You can google "last minute running tips" or "race preparations" and get thousands and thousands of tips and tricks of things that you MUST do to correctly prepare for a race....from prehydration to elevation mapping to aid station planning.</div>
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Basically, I didn't do any of that stuff.</div>
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There were, however, a list of things that I <em>did</em> do to prepare for the half-marathon in Nashville this weekend.</div>
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1. Carb Load. (Okay...admittedly, this was an accident.)</div>
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2. Order a new running outfit so that I would feel FAB! (I finally found a skirt that absolutely does <em>not </em>chaffe my legs!)</div>
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3. Write out plans for my substitute teacher for my kindergarten class. (Also make copies, lay out books, mentally prepare students...this list goes on and on...)</div>
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4. Cook enough spaghetti so that all my guys will have leftovers to eat tomorrow night.</div>
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5. Organize transportation to all baseball games for all boys while I am gone.</div>
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6. Trim toenails (I do<em> not</em> want any more black toenails. It's not attractive.)</div>
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7. Charge camera battery</div>
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8. Charge IPOD</div>
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9. Wash baseball uniforms after tonight's game to be ready for the game tomorrow night. (Why else would I STILL be awake?)</div>
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10. Pray that I won't need to poop during the 13 mile race.</div>
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So there you have it. The <em>real </em>race day preparations.</div>
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I feel totally ready.....well, I <em>will </em>as soon as the washer finishes the spin cycle with those darn uniforms.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-90309446367416814812012-04-24T16:25:00.001-07:002012-04-24T16:25:24.941-07:00Running Nostalgia<div style="text-align: center;">
As I was running down my country road a couple of days ago, I was totally into my run. It would be my last 'long run' before the half-marathon coming up this Saturday. I had set out early in the morning before the boys woke up. I wanted to get 2 hours of running in before our day began. We had 3 baseball games to get to and I didn't want my running to get in the way of my "Mommy Duties". The weather was perfect for a run and I was enjoying my quiet time. </div>
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I turned the corner at the end of my road and I saw my Daddy walking toward me. He was also out enjoying the fresh morning air. Daddy was out for a walk, since his body (and doctor) will no longer allow him to run. My Daddy was a runner for many years. He ran countless 5K's and 10K's and also completed a marathon. He was the one who introduced me to my love of running. I remember watching him fly across the finish line covered in sweat and a look of pride and satisfaction on his face. I wanted that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDCXVLF0mdFgEkWG1iiTkeEJLusZyW1XOC0am3GLESPckN5lMer3uCj6Z9tK-VjcCXQyTv9219TVcOMVQFQG_Y9IfklmrydjoUVU6MweIzfIg5MrOhAscWgNZLzh8V6neuL8N-kk77-Y/s1600/pop+runner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDCXVLF0mdFgEkWG1iiTkeEJLusZyW1XOC0am3GLESPckN5lMer3uCj6Z9tK-VjcCXQyTv9219TVcOMVQFQG_Y9IfklmrydjoUVU6MweIzfIg5MrOhAscWgNZLzh8V6neuL8N-kk77-Y/s400/pop+runner.jpg" width="287" /></a></div>
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My first miles as a 'runner' were quite treacherous. I huffed and puffed and sounded like I was dying. I couldn't even make it a quarter of a mile. I had side stitches and my lungs burned. I was a terrible runner, but Daddy kept encouraging me. He would always say, "You gotta start somehwere." or "You are doing great! At least you are getting out there!" He was always so positive....even though I knew I was stinking it up. I was embarrasingly out of shape when I started.</div>
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(This photo was taken in 1998 just before a local 5K race. I waddled through this one at 8 months pregnant.)</div>
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I ran....er....jogged....several races with Daddy. He always tore out fast and finished the race fast. Then, he always turned around at the finish line and came back to finish with me. <em>Always</em> positive. Never demeaning me when I had to walk parts of it. He was there for me then, and he is there for me now.</div>
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As I saw Daddy approaching me Saturday, I pulled my ear buds from my ears and shouted to him...</div>
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"Hey! I am finishing up mile 10! I am going for 12 today."</div>
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Daddy beamed a happy smile at me and gave me two thumbs up. </div>
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Then he said....a bit sadly...</div>
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"I sure wish I could join you."</div>
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I wish he could to.</div>
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I am thankful that he still shows up to my races to encourage me...even though he can't run<em> with</em> me anymore. I am thankful that he instilled a love of running in me all those years ago.</div>
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I am thankful that me and Daddy have "this thing" together. It's <em>OUR</em> thing. </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-474715956944128052012-04-23T19:10:00.000-07:002012-04-23T19:10:03.447-07:00The Exhiliration Is Coming<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">This photo was taken of me during my first Half Marathon.<br />
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It's one of my favorite photos because I remember how I felt at that moment....<br />
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Proud.<br />
Energized.<br />
Dedicated.<br />
Healthy.<br />
Happy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOg2Znj4HtPl2ZkkPq4E4qR5ponrLotHCcHoHhRh9o8-ZymMM3ndQb2fjcPNHWRqAzGlqahuMXVgIW_-OhnLTmirvtvmB5UzmgjD7gnxRHHgll06x1tr_q6RSnmSfqp9QrpRCGBG57Mg/s1600/mercedes+half.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOg2Znj4HtPl2ZkkPq4E4qR5ponrLotHCcHoHhRh9o8-ZymMM3ndQb2fjcPNHWRqAzGlqahuMXVgIW_-OhnLTmirvtvmB5UzmgjD7gnxRHHgll06x1tr_q6RSnmSfqp9QrpRCGBG57Mg/s400/mercedes+half.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The Nashville Half Marathon is this Saturday. Less than a week away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">In less than a week....I will get to feel this exhilarated again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I can hardly wait.</span><br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-53609552551988861112012-04-23T12:19:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:19:31.128-07:00Jacked Up FeetI laid in the bed last night until 2 am, unable to sleep because of my jacked up feet. I was moments away from taking a hand saw and cutting my feet off at the ankles to end the pain. Luckily, I snapped out of my sleep deprived hysteria and took some Ibuprofen instead. <br />
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I have been training for a half marathon that is coming up in less than two weeks. Ack! I have been pounding out the miles day after day in<em> less than stellar</em> shoes. Well, actually...the shoes were perfectly great running shoes until I trashed them on a muddy trail run.</div>
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I then tried to fix them by washing the mud out. I used hot water in the washing machine...which melted the plasticky stuff in the lining of the shoes. They shrunk up to warped and wacky junk shoes. They poked my heels, lost the rubber support in the soles and pinched my toes. </div>
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I was mad at myself for ruining my good shoes, so I decided to tough it out. I would finish the marathon training and get through the half marathon before I replaced them.</div>
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In my stubbornness, I have acquired blisters on 6 out of 10 toes, I have gotten "black toenail" on two toes....one of which has already fallen off leaving the bare nail bed behind and the other hanging by a thread, and my feet ache after every single run.</div>
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Last night was the straw that ended the boycott on new shoes. </div>
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As I lay in bed, with <em>every... single.... beat</em>.... of my heart pounding in my toes, I vowed that I would <strong>not</strong> go for a run again until I could replace the torturous shoes. This was not a decision I made lightly. I was horrified at the thought of replacing expensive shoes that are only a couple of months old.</div>
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Nevertheless, I am committed to running.</div>
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I have registered for the race.</div>
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I have paid the fee.</div>
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I have a hotel lined up with my gal pals.</div>
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I have made arrangements for the boys.</div>
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I have trained.</div>
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And trained.</div>
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And trained.</div>
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So, at 2am last night.... I made the decision to buy new shoes.</div>
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After school today, rain was falling....which meant that baseball games for the night were cancelled. I made the 45 minute trek to the nearest (and best) running shoe store....The Trak Shak.</div>
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The running shoe specialist watched me walk toward him and away from him. He examined my stride and measured my feet. I am certain that he made a little gasp when he measured my foot at a whopping size 11. Then he told me all I ever wanted to know about my feet.</div>
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Not only are my feet grotesquely large, but I also learned that I need extra "support". I need this support because of my "overpronation in my stride" and because my "arch collapses when I strike the ground".</div>
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Good Heavens! No wonder my feet have been hurting!</div>
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The specialist brought out three different shoes for me to try that were designed specifically for my kind of jacked up feet. They even came in my honking big size!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeks9pW9TEhEW-2rId-9ipJxPH4TQYjlvDGbR0HbxpAhkQqYv3jtNLxRYn83PY_w4Dq5b7Xsw1xbDagxbQQePI-GDt7CzheDhx0ojBj2N3IpATXZcWmwFtoqOKtNNHRFDQSVhYGnIbJY/s1600/trak+shak+running+shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_42jmdh="12" height="325px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeks9pW9TEhEW-2rId-9ipJxPH4TQYjlvDGbR0HbxpAhkQqYv3jtNLxRYn83PY_w4Dq5b7Xsw1xbDagxbQQePI-GDt7CzheDhx0ojBj2N3IpATXZcWmwFtoqOKtNNHRFDQSVhYGnIbJY/s400/trak+shak+running+shoes.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>
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I picked the Brooks Adrenaline GTS Running Shoes that are made with extra cushion and support. They feel dreamy.</div>
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When I climbed into the car with my new shoes in hand, I texted Bradley to tell him all about my excitement of buying my new shoes. I told him about the shoe specialist saying that I had an "overpronation and arch collapse" in my stride. </div>
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He sent back via text....</div>
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<em>"I was thinking that myself, but I just didn't want to offend you by pointing out your overpronation. I thought it might embarrass you."</em></div>
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Thanks, dear.</div>
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Hopefully, when I go for a run tomorrow in my new shoes and then collapse into bed, I will not feel the urge to dismember my jacked up feet.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-74631566299510769642012-04-23T12:15:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:15:03.421-07:00Competitive GeneIs there a such thing as being too competitive? Apparently so. And..... I may be in trouble. I found this article online in Glamour magazine. (Oh, yes it <em>IS</em> a very trustworthy source of health information...what do you mean questioning my sources?) Anyway....here is a segment of the article....<br />
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<em>Are you competitive? Would you label yourself as "aggressive" in terms of going after what you want? Here's the warning for people, our competitive nature may be slowly ... <strong>killing us</strong>.</em></div>
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<em>Researchers who published a major study in Hypertension: Journal of the American Heart Association say that those who are most competitive are at increased risk for stroke and heart attack than folks who are more laid back. </em></div>
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<em>The details: Italian researchers studied 5,614 Italians and found that those who scored highest for competitiveness on standard personality tests had a greater thickening of the neck arteries, an risk factor for heart attack and stroke.</em></div>
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Killing me??!! Yikes! That's harsh.</div>
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Thankfully, the article did go on to say that if your competitiveness is mostly geared toward your fitness and athletic competitions, that the competitiveness could<em> in theory</em>, be helpful instead of harmful. The competitiveness gets dangerous when it spills over into friendships, your love life, and everyday tasks. I think I may not die from being too competitive after all.</div>
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I have always known that I inherited my Dad's competitive gene. All through grade school, I wanted to have the best grades. In high school, I wanted to be the best softball player on the team....or even the county. I always felt let down if I didn't get chosen for something or didn't win something. And I don't think that competitive tendency has disappeared over the years. It still rears it's head up on occasion.</div>
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My competitive nature was in full force this past Saturday night. I entered a unique night time trail run with two of my friends. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi60tEHdfU13bGldWMHOpB5_r6MkJA8Fvaj2cjlB4gRpfKKNdFOFhAxxeybduMkyGIcLDI5oYpYkTEg-0I7a0f6m00_bUv1fG7TNwMQartKmS6wCgvgiZQ5uXqM4OR8-FV5JBjSsPngFc/s1600/better+than+bond+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" closure_uid_x8i3ax="5" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi60tEHdfU13bGldWMHOpB5_r6MkJA8Fvaj2cjlB4gRpfKKNdFOFhAxxeybduMkyGIcLDI5oYpYkTEg-0I7a0f6m00_bUv1fG7TNwMQartKmS6wCgvgiZQ5uXqM4OR8-FV5JBjSsPngFc/s400/better+than+bond+pic.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>
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The idea of the run was that teams would compete out on the trails in the dark. The event coordinators had hidden 12 books along the trails marked with reflective tape to be seen only in the dark. Runners were to head out onto the trails wearing headlamps and run the trails in search of the hidden books. When a hidden book was found, teams were instructed to tear out the page of the book that corresponded with their team number. We were team #30, so we were to remove page number 30 from each book and bring it back to the finish line at the end.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIr0TDIzqTUcZriw7Rcg82W-KqqGtYuR8frsusnjvX_xK5_kUShEdtKl7B69rOozCTSutYUlYyj_IxKZEFjKTyMSab1JDTcStRaPNxbQU9r1ydQjgyb_mQ584mQ-rEo-LpNIqQJ-13M/s1600/jen+heading+on+trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" closure_uid_x8i3ax="6" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIr0TDIzqTUcZriw7Rcg82W-KqqGtYuR8frsusnjvX_xK5_kUShEdtKl7B69rOozCTSutYUlYyj_IxKZEFjKTyMSab1JDTcStRaPNxbQU9r1ydQjgyb_mQ584mQ-rEo-LpNIqQJ-13M/s400/jen+heading+on+trail.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>
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Some hints to the books' locations were emailed to runners prior to the race and others were sent via text message during the race. Prior to the start of the race, using the clues, we had determined that there was one book hidden on each of the trails that covered the mountain. To collect all 12 books, our team would need to split up to cover all of the miles of the trails in the 3 1/2 hour time limit.</div>
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Our basic plan for the race was that I would cover the longer trails alone and my partners would cover some of the shorter, more challenging trails as a pair. In the end, we hoped to find about half of the books each and meet back at the finish line as winners.</div>
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Our plan started out great. I headed off on the first trail and within minutes found the first hidden book. I ripped out page #30 and tucked it into my running belt. I texted my team and alerted them that the first book was found. I conquered the second trail, Buckeye Trail, and found book #2 almost as quickly. I jogged on to my third trail, which looped around a wetlands area. I was stumped a bit when looking for this book and ended up looping around the trail three times before finding book #3. I moved on to Sandstone Ridge Trail which had some really steep inclines and grabbed book #4 at the top of the trail. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CegyTxwrwXDyyCOGbzEy8JwjuEQCjgpJJEeJlT6UMHewjvyH_ojHvVg5MpKfYf1eFr-M0rO7MQ_cLZ57MwIFxazFUcDG91a9ETnsZPoCH1yJ7nzTJyyERUSGm8njRBKSZXiCjad0e5I/s1600/better+than+bond+found+clue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" closure_uid_x8i3ax="7" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CegyTxwrwXDyyCOGbzEy8JwjuEQCjgpJJEeJlT6UMHewjvyH_ojHvVg5MpKfYf1eFr-M0rO7MQ_cLZ57MwIFxazFUcDG91a9ETnsZPoCH1yJ7nzTJyyERUSGm8njRBKSZXiCjad0e5I/s400/better+than+bond+found+clue.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>
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On my way down this trail heading to my next trail is when I got the alert from my team that they had struggled to find their first book, but had finally located it. We were now up to 5 books as a team. I continued on to a long leg of my trail running and covered the Pipeline Trail, which was almost two miles round trip. Then, Lizard Loop Trail, which was a mile long loop that I ended up running twice because I couldn't find the book the first time. Locating the book on Lizard Loop was insane. The book was hidden well off the trail and I had to cross a running stream to get to it. I ran the rest of the night in shoes and socks saturated with mud, but I was determined to find the book for the team. </div>
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After all this trail running is when my competetiveness and determination really took over. I really picked up my running pace and backtracked some of the previous trails to get to a new section of the mountain. There were books hidden on The Crusher Trail and The Ridge and Valley Trail. I looked at the trail map and realized that these were the most challenging trails on the mountain, but I was NOT going to let my team down. I had books to find!</div>
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So I headed off on Crusher Trail and found the book fairly easily, despite the changes in elevation and the fact that I somehow ended up off the trail and was lost for a brief period of time. I had now found 6 of the 12 books. I had an hour left to return to the finish line. I had one last trail to conquer....The Ridge and Valley Trail. The trail map describes it like this.....</div>
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<em>Ridge and Valley Trail (1.5 miles)</em></div>
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<em>Our most demanding trail, it goes through 1000 feet of elevation change over its length. You will cross several small streambeds as you hike.</em></div>
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About 3/4 of the way through the Ridge and Valley Trail.....I thought I was going to <em>die</em>. I was out of water in my water bottle. My legs were ON FIRE from running the hills. My body was exhausted. I texted Bradley, who was at home with the boys, and told him.....</div>
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<em>"I don't know if I will make it off this trail. I haven't seen another human in forever. I don't think I can make it back to the finish line. And I think I may even be lost or something. This trail is sooo long."</em></div>
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But just as I was about to throw in the towel....I saw the faint glow of another person's headlamp. The person ended up being the event photographer. He snapped this picture of me as I was climbing yet another "Ridge" on the trail.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghB-7cHwKf6-sXkwmdnr_3SJtKAK2FYj9NqfAFMqnqcQVpR8UUwuHnCDZqEOIgxvMbl2KY1Vic0kHps9U2-0iyq3qRqkUSGeHqyK1LzzIy4eIdcUbVSnq4YMFg2qDsUPC4k5UGip9z4a0/s1600/trail+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" closure_uid_x8i3ax="8" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghB-7cHwKf6-sXkwmdnr_3SJtKAK2FYj9NqfAFMqnqcQVpR8UUwuHnCDZqEOIgxvMbl2KY1Vic0kHps9U2-0iyq3qRqkUSGeHqyK1LzzIy4eIdcUbVSnq4YMFg2qDsUPC4k5UGip9z4a0/s400/trail+running.jpg" width="300px" /></a></div>
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He had a thick Indian accent as he shouted...</div>
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<em>"Hello, runner! Are you OK runner? I haven't seen any other peoples on this trail, runner. I am take your picture, then I leave this trail. Are you feel OK runner? Yay, runner."</em></div>
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I have never been so happy to see another human as I was to see Suman the Indian at that moment. He let me know that I wasn't lost in the the woods after all. And I knew that I might make it to the book, get the page out, and get back to the finish line alive.</div>
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I continued running and <em>finally</em> got to the end where the most glorious book awaited me. I cheerfully took the page and put it into my running belt. I was more than elated to get to the end of the Ridge and Valley Trail to see that there was an alternative trail back to the finish line. I think that if someone had told me that I would have to retrace my steps and run Ridge and Valley again, that I may have died right there on the spot.</div>
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I made it back to the finish line and my team mates arrived shortly after with the books they had found. My legs were shaking like jello. I was thirsty and hungry and exhausted, but I had had probably my best run ever.</div>
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I ended up covering close to 10 miles of trails in the dark and collected 7 of our team's 10 book pages. Our collection of 10 hidden book pages was enough to win our team a 3rd place. </div>
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For the past 3 days since the race, I have taken Ibuprofen every 4 hours to help with my aching muscles. My legs have hurt so bad that I could barely walk. I have never, <em>ever</em> been so sore from any exercise.</div>
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What did we get for this punishment to our bodies???</div>
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This medal.....</div>
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I know you are jealous.</div>
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And bragging rights for completing the race.</div>
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Was it worth it?</div>
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I don't know.</div>
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I'll let you know the answer to that when I am finally able to walk normally again without Ibuprofen.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-8538410789924572672012-04-23T12:13:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:13:18.218-07:00Tick Tock Tick Tock I am a woman who wears many hats. Mom, wife, kindergarten teacher, runner, wanna be great cook, writer, recipe reader, sometimes photographer, daughter, sister, friend, cheerleader and chauffeur. <br />
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I hesitate to post about this for fear of sounding all whiny and dramatic, but just wanted to explain my lapse in posts lately. The hat I have been sporting more than the others lately is that of a chauffer. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1aEysehK0bBCThhao8alUPSo1hwHvyBss4mMKOizEzF_Hgfa2D8LGBQxseHx3nZW7kd-7UeTHB-XRY22diYYa7KpXDqqSKQRZ4L3NCkJVvgOIb0pHLfHRFd7ndpu4Ih8fDOqCF3TrC4/s1600/mom+in+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_qkhd3y="2" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1aEysehK0bBCThhao8alUPSo1hwHvyBss4mMKOizEzF_Hgfa2D8LGBQxseHx3nZW7kd-7UeTHB-XRY22diYYa7KpXDqqSKQRZ4L3NCkJVvgOIb0pHLfHRFd7ndpu4Ih8fDOqCF3TrC4/s400/mom+in+car.jpg" uda="true" width="400px" /></a></div>
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I practically live in my car and at various sporting venues these days. </div>
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A typical day for me lately goes just like yesterday. This was my day....</div>
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6:15-6:30 - Hit the snooze button over and over. Ignore texts from Bradley telling me to get up.</div>
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6:30 - 6:45 - Make myself as presentable as possible.</div>
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6:45 - 6:48 - Put muffins in the oven.</div>
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6:48 - 6:50 - Give wake up kiss. Again. Again.</div>
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6:50 - 7:15 - Pack lunches, sign homework pages, get muffins out, tie shoes, race to the car.</div>
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7:15 - 7:20 - Drive to high school. Drop off Tucker.</div>
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7:20 - 7:22 - Drive to elementary school.</div>
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7:24 - 7:25 - Sign in.</div>
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7:25 - 3:00 - Work as a kindergarten teacher. Leave No Child Behind. </div>
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3:00 - 3:40 - Get the little boys haircut (No time for me and Tucker)</div>
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3:40 - 3:50 - Rush home and grab practice gear.</div>
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3:50 - 3:58 - Fast food drive thru (My middle one has to be fed before sporting events because of his hypoglycemia symptoms)</div>
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3:58 - 4:00 - Drive to baseball field. Arrive just as the first batter steps up to the plate. Play Ball!</div>
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4:00 - 5:29 - Cheer like a crazy woman for Tucker who is on the Junior High Baseball team</div>
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5:29 - 5:32 - Drive Carter to his basketball practice (Shout to a passing Dad that he is being left unattended.)</div>
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5:32 - 5:35 - Drive back to baseball game</div>
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5:35 - 6:29 - Pick back up cheering like a crazy lady at the game. (Our team won by one run. Woot Woot!)</div>
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6:29 - 6:31 - Drive back to pick up Carter at basketball.</div>
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6:31 - 6:35 - Drive back to fast food restaurant</div>
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6:35 - 6:50 - Feed the gang</div>
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6:50 - 7:05 - Drive to baseball practice at the other side of town</div>
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7:05 - 8:40 - Watch baseball practice. Cringe over missed throws and smile over awesome plays.</div>
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8:40 - 8:55 - Drive home.</div>
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8:55 - 9:30 - Send one kid to the bath and do homework with the others. Rotate. Rotate.</div>
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9:30 - 9:40 - Fix glasses of milk and give goodnight kiss. Again. Again.</div>
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9:40 - 9:41 - Ignore the mess that has accumulated in my house.</div>
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9:41 - 9:43 - Start a load of laundry containing needed ball uniforms.</div>
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9:43 - 10:20 - Enter whirlpool bath santuary</div>
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10:20 - 10:21 - Move uniforms from washer to dryer.</div>
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10:22 - ? Enjoy a few moments with the love of my life.</div>
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Sometime later - Collapse.</div>
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I am not complaining....<span style="font-size: medium;"><em>nay</em></span>....only <em>explaining</em>. Explaining why I haven't had time to write a blog lately and explaining to myself why I can't fit a run in everyday....or a healthy meal....or a clean house. It <em>is</em> what it <em>is</em>. And I wouldn't change a single minute of my days. The boys are growing and these busy days will pass. And then I will be sitting around missing it. </div>
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Gotta go.</div>
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Time for baths and homework.</div>
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Tick Tock. Tick Tock.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-74754419767994431202012-04-23T12:11:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:11:45.443-07:00Summer Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Maybe this summer I can vacation in this......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszBYVxlbA8kVSkSObNNPmMX8ckDvuhzBG1xztHZUg54T2_n79G728RtCkYcbCAqZ_WvRyaYMKJ6gYSnFZ-GJiC1SNrZK3f_MuKHFcWSevnMSaZV0JMtUGBoq1JLBXZ6mygnBsO_myG2o/s1600/swimsuit+dream+body.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_bxlo0d="2" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszBYVxlbA8kVSkSObNNPmMX8ckDvuhzBG1xztHZUg54T2_n79G728RtCkYcbCAqZ_WvRyaYMKJ6gYSnFZ-GJiC1SNrZK3f_MuKHFcWSevnMSaZV0JMtUGBoq1JLBXZ6mygnBsO_myG2o/s400/swimsuit+dream+body.jpg" width="266px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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Or this........</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbP3fhk9JRAXFZ_mR4u1voRjrP1vADZOMouhcGSynJXPZPXA1gSkPBdBJlYpScDdPC6kOSlcS9lJTa3DoJvGQEcCnyQBOsDksKFaMtm5kbSUYqMrnMN_CCqN5-hNXep8WmCiVqK18wPT4/s1600/dream+swimsuit.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_bxlo0d="3" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbP3fhk9JRAXFZ_mR4u1voRjrP1vADZOMouhcGSynJXPZPXA1gSkPBdBJlYpScDdPC6kOSlcS9lJTa3DoJvGQEcCnyQBOsDksKFaMtm5kbSUYqMrnMN_CCqN5-hNXep8WmCiVqK18wPT4/s400/dream+swimsuit.bmp" width="285px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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And NOT look like this........</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfakRnPQ-Gax8Ao8FnOSr_uOS7lnYUSHEZCiO98qJK-Q-gaS-v-Qwv5JVAJpuyVAmwhmUQReBOuheaBLsOEmqvBETJicEPIm8y9EkfQD_cdbZAiLiVNeN7hItAF6Xi-6ifSvJGbEivgWU/s1600/cellulite+girl+in+bikini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_bxlo0d="4" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfakRnPQ-Gax8Ao8FnOSr_uOS7lnYUSHEZCiO98qJK-Q-gaS-v-Qwv5JVAJpuyVAmwhmUQReBOuheaBLsOEmqvBETJicEPIm8y9EkfQD_cdbZAiLiVNeN7hItAF6Xi-6ifSvJGbEivgWU/s320/cellulite+girl+in+bikini.jpg" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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If I keep eating this.......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitPdG3CmVll0nyyNHIJBOPgdv_UI2x9RuD_nzpAPlkFwH6KfdBUgY4PO7g0owdM33ScltF0PZfbhEnxgP4fWALuH1aDgft3ogk60rrMVNF2UC0AZOO4shPUb3Ae3fV43atM1sLv2m6hI/s1600/fresh+fruits+and+vegetables.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_bxlo0d="5" height="360px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitPdG3CmVll0nyyNHIJBOPgdv_UI2x9RuD_nzpAPlkFwH6KfdBUgY4PO7g0owdM33ScltF0PZfbhEnxgP4fWALuH1aDgft3ogk60rrMVNF2UC0AZOO4shPUb3Ae3fV43atM1sLv2m6hI/s400/fresh+fruits+and+vegetables.jpg" width="400px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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And doing this.......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-M0Cg5KRwxPgGQGah1rYFgIZbTW5B90ujgz0SQ6sTvhIVHVvdbFPzQN2qbaaLjuKDxBtRsPt2Wy9CNcb_ZZVhaibCEdh_y2KeG1B8RFc2_29FXhOrbftTs6B0LWwFvqHGsuXSDl06qgg/s1600/morning+jog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_bxlo0d="6" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-M0Cg5KRwxPgGQGah1rYFgIZbTW5B90ujgz0SQ6sTvhIVHVvdbFPzQN2qbaaLjuKDxBtRsPt2Wy9CNcb_ZZVhaibCEdh_y2KeG1B8RFc2_29FXhOrbftTs6B0LWwFvqHGsuXSDl06qgg/s400/morning+jog.jpg" width="400px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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A girl's <span style="font-size: medium;">gotta</span> have a dream, right?</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-11105781617033913912012-04-23T12:10:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:10:20.629-07:00I run<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewohh7akeBhP2i03mt5C-ryiOK2PIpZKq2AaYV2hrUkS6NhsQDEukQ6sgjqQhDr2W8ig7L8lA2Nze1mhGVO7W0ALzGvRVthG_mphtHyvzEBYRDKd7Fb-2ov6dAuT_wlFxTWipyItcb8M/s1600/I+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_fful9x="2" height="300px" lda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewohh7akeBhP2i03mt5C-ryiOK2PIpZKq2AaYV2hrUkS6NhsQDEukQ6sgjqQhDr2W8ig7L8lA2Nze1mhGVO7W0ALzGvRVthG_mphtHyvzEBYRDKd7Fb-2ov6dAuT_wlFxTWipyItcb8M/s400/I+run.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-11245119041818330712012-04-23T12:09:00.001-07:002012-04-23T12:09:14.475-07:00Running Wardrobe Malfunction<div style="text-align: center;">
I was so psyched to pull out my favorite running skirt today. Alabama weather is like Jekyll and Hyde. Three days ago I ran in 30 something degree temperatures and was layered for warmth. I finished the run wind burned and I made a bee line for the Vaseline for my chapped face when I got back inside my toasty warm house. I was frozen to the core. Running in freezing weather hurts.</div>
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Today, the weather was perfect for running....beautiful blue skies with 60 plus degree temperatures. I am certainly a hot weather lovin' gal, so I was thrilled to exercise in the warm weather. </div>
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I rushed home after school and was so happy that it was finally warm enough to run in my running skirt. I love running skirts because they add such a girlie flair to a sport that was once dominated by men. I am always admiring the cute skirts of other gal runners when I am running in a crowd. Mine, however, is several years old and just plain black. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDl5ZlD7FHpOsbfyIev6vSYcJtOEk175mknntBPjGySeAvZjKkyJsypM-RNDaIeN2W_jFzI0her1c7kElzlshBKxEXlOiUqgMwXj1IObjdMg-lxyjXo1MB5JXmRYuHuiaPwGvymHLgGc/s1600/running+skirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_d8et71="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDl5ZlD7FHpOsbfyIev6vSYcJtOEk175mknntBPjGySeAvZjKkyJsypM-RNDaIeN2W_jFzI0her1c7kElzlshBKxEXlOiUqgMwXj1IObjdMg-lxyjXo1MB5JXmRYuHuiaPwGvymHLgGc/s1600/running+skirt.jpg" yda="true" /></a></div>
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Sorry, I realize that the skirt is barely visible in this photo, but that's what happens when you try to take a photo of yourself with your cell phone while running. <em> Not</em> quality photography here.</div>
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So anyway.....</div>
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The boys went next door to help my Dad work outside after school, so I took the opportunity to turn a short running day into a long one.</div>
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I decided today to just go run for about an hour, and not worry about the number of miles I ran. </div>
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I have never, <em>ever</em> done that before in all my years of running.</div>
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I <em>always</em> head out with a mileage goal, but I liked the idea of just running however far I made it.</div>
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After only a couple of miles, I realized that my skirt was not cooperating like it always had in the past.</div>
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The undershorts were rubbing my legs and it started getting uncomfortable<em> quickly</em>.</div>
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I kept readjusting and pulling and tugging trying to fix the skirt, but it was getting worse by the minute.</div>
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I am not sure if the problem was that the skirt has gotten older and stretched out over the years and the undershorts were no longer holding tight to my skin, or if my thighs have gotten ....ummm...thicker....since the last time I wore the skirt.</div>
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I would like to believe that it was the skirt's fault.</div>
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After about 3 miles, the chaffing of my legs had gotten almost unbearable.</div>
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I had two viable options.</div>
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A.) Walk like a cowboy for a half mile home and call it quits.</div>
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B.) Trudge it home and make a speedy quick change out of the skirt and into some running pants.</div>
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I went with choice B.</div>
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I ran home, up the driveway, up the steps, changed in about 30 seconds, and ran out again....trying to break stride as little as possible......and kept running.</div>
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While I was running, I was thinking about how many little bitty things can negatively effect runs.</div>
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clothes rubbing</div>
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ill fitting jog bra</div>
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fatigue</div>
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shin splints</div>
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runner's diarrhea</div>
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blisters</div>
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wind burn</div>
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chapped lips</div>
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side stitches</div>
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runner's knee</div>
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dog tagging along</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiMtEbDuap0QAawaJE2oTv32jJ_mH7dMAqasjVAgWXmPRHtSwhEcLOrJqIZ2Z-6BDn1S0UrDm8WWf7qutm1On8t1NpvVeu0zQzSR1ZeKyoisIugsCEDEeCRi07TXzkEBxBV0MNMADlrM/s1600/running+dog+poop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_d8et71="3" height="235px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiMtEbDuap0QAawaJE2oTv32jJ_mH7dMAqasjVAgWXmPRHtSwhEcLOrJqIZ2Z-6BDn1S0UrDm8WWf7qutm1On8t1NpvVeu0zQzSR1ZeKyoisIugsCEDEeCRi07TXzkEBxBV0MNMADlrM/s320/running+dog+poop.jpg" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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(Aww.....C'mon, Davy! Gross!</div>
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Do you really have to stop and do that every single mile?)</div>
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I have dealt with all of the above over the years, but each malady that I have dealt with is overshadowed by the joy I feel when the run is complete.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXj5fz9zepWGteyUsIRYgSZE_xO_yYPkoriyupU61CVkPlVGHGOvr-SpPR2oo5_Z0pHNlf6yWRE4RGNHp30iBTuD3-dfKIZU872DQoqNZ0_4q8VcFlFtfGo1UfY97tzbUwnUixhr2_39w/s1600/running+8+miles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_d8et71="4" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXj5fz9zepWGteyUsIRYgSZE_xO_yYPkoriyupU61CVkPlVGHGOvr-SpPR2oo5_Z0pHNlf6yWRE4RGNHp30iBTuD3-dfKIZU872DQoqNZ0_4q8VcFlFtfGo1UfY97tzbUwnUixhr2_39w/s400/running+8+miles.jpg" width="400px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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I ended up running 8.25 miles today, hardly ever checking the mileage.</div>
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I just kept running until I ran out of time and had to get home to go pick up the boys.</div>
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I ran for an hour and 20 minutes and it was all for me.</div>
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The whole hour. Just for me.</div>
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It was nice....</div>
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Despite the dog poo and the wardrobe malfunction.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2492306689020541012.post-86963250049040918532012-04-23T12:06:00.003-07:002012-04-23T12:06:30.399-07:00If You Have To Ask<div class="post hentry">
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I know that I am suppose to be a "Mommy Blogger" and write about all the cute little things that my kids do, but over the last several years, running has become a part of who I am, so I will continue to include blogs about it. I just can't leave out something that is so important to me. </div>
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So anyway....if you are new to my blog, you may not know that I am currently training for my 2nd Half-Marathon. It has been a challenge to squeeze training runs into my crazy busy life, but I have made time for it, and I am so glad that I have! </div>
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Today was President's Day...which meant a holiday from school...whoop whoop! Since I didn't have to work, I was able to fit in a longer run. The weather was absolutely perfect for running! I was able to try out my new running skirt. If you didn't read about my wardrobe malfunction with my last running skirt.....feel free to <a href="http://www.snipsofsnailspuppydogtails.blogspot.com/2012/02/running-wardrobe-malfunction.html"><span style="color: #cc3300;">catch up on it HERE.</span></a> </div>
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My new skirt worked out great this time and I felt sassy and girly while I was pounding out the miles. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qxhLsKRtrgQHSLqybkYncqdGiHeG7ylWx1HlZm2MAj8C_D_uqODo07lwEP6r9ZfIQy-86oimPtPtailu_ckjMN4mYyidzAGc0vizDR4vVRA22Va83EFj5TLiRia3hQrgL9kpeLaIrnI/s1600/running+skirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_8paq04="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qxhLsKRtrgQHSLqybkYncqdGiHeG7ylWx1HlZm2MAj8C_D_uqODo07lwEP6r9ZfIQy-86oimPtPtailu_ckjMN4mYyidzAGc0vizDR4vVRA22Va83EFj5TLiRia3hQrgL9kpeLaIrnI/s1600/running+skirt.jpg" yda="true" /></a></div>
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And I like the white one better than my old black one anyway....so whoop whoop for my new skirt!</div>
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I was able to run 10.36 miles today and stayed on pace to beat my current personal half marathon time. I was totally pumped about that!</div>
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I finished my run today sweaty, thirsty, dry lipped, achy, and with blisters on my toes and a toe nail that had pulled loose from my big toe......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGXrunH92upk5C_26Egb2TxJm8gNDqdgQLaux3viG7bDhpWfnfRgoRgzSGAWb76qQ8s-yBYhdSME1B8Y4zWbT8Izpii9TVrqhMxoS2q4yBtrGUGc3n6xx3kImOCtA1hJxFnYz89fbtN0/s1600/sweaty+after+10+mile+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_8paq04="3" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGXrunH92upk5C_26Egb2TxJm8gNDqdgQLaux3viG7bDhpWfnfRgoRgzSGAWb76qQ8s-yBYhdSME1B8Y4zWbT8Izpii9TVrqhMxoS2q4yBtrGUGc3n6xx3kImOCtA1hJxFnYz89fbtN0/s320/sweaty+after+10+mile+run.jpg" width="315px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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...And I was all smiles!</div>
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I found this photo today and fell in love with the quote on it......</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWRxuaRdHrqR_jDU2dXvgdgX5VhuHAP1LUTONvI95BB-Qrv6juHJigNuVMzxB7db0R63IP6qRs29L2MEvTAk_I1HGvxVImM_PCN0KDNX4JYPAvP1FlHrO2T6OcLIHoFvvss9P45IuP_E/s1600/running+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_8paq04="4" height="282px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWRxuaRdHrqR_jDU2dXvgdgX5VhuHAP1LUTONvI95BB-Qrv6juHJigNuVMzxB7db0R63IP6qRs29L2MEvTAk_I1HGvxVImM_PCN0KDNX4JYPAvP1FlHrO2T6OcLIHoFvvss9P45IuP_E/s400/running+quote.jpg" width="400px" yda="true" /></a></div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01649192801545601586noreply@blogger.com1