A sweatband and a minivan...week 3

The "dirty south" really isn't all that dirty. Muggy, sweaty, and down right stupid hot is probably the more accurate description. Week 3's heat indexes reached as high as 115, so needless to say running in the afternoon was NOT an option, even "the old guy" wasn't huffing in that heat. My short runs were done in the morning before my roosters crowed i.e. my children were up and pecking around. Even at 6:30 a.m. the muggy, sweaty, down right stupid hot south, was still sauna-rific. The sun wasn't melting away your epidermis, but the humidity opened every sweat follicle and sucked your breath out instantly. With sweat seeping from every pore in my body, my eyes quickly became receptacles of the salty stingy substance. My arms provided no relief for they were dripping too. Everything dripped. The solution became very embarrassingly obvious, I needed a sweat band. Yep, I said it, a sweatband. 32 years old and I am sporting a sweatband, enough said.

The sweatband

You would think that buying a sweatband would have been the worst purchase of the week, but no. My husband and I topped that in a MAJOR way. After our trip to SC our Ford Flex, although very big, proved to be NOT so functional for our family. I am by no means a large woman, but I literally got stuck between the seats fetching goldfish and juice box straws. We were spending a lot of $$$ on a car that met only one need for our family, our "cool" need. When we rolled up in our two toned grocery getter we looked smooth (as smooth as a glorified station wagon allows you to be). It was fully loaded with bells, whistles, and NO room for bodies in it's 6 seats!!! After a long night on the back porch a decision was made, we would trade in the Flex for a......minivan. A WHAT?? We looked at every large SUV possible, but the car payment + gas = no shoes for the children. With heavy hearts we drove the Flex to it's final resting place and drove home with our 2011 Toyota Sienna. I must say we have yet to feel the "swagger" while cruising in our van. 

"Minnie"

A sweatband and minivan all in the same week, talk about feeling old. Slap on some orthopedic shoes and put me in a home!!!! The more I listened to myself whining about what my van didn't have and how stupid I looked in my sweatband I couldn't believe the thoughts streaming in my head and the words coming out of my mouth. The things I am complaining about others may be dreaming about. Somewhere there is somebody wishing they were healthy enough to walk a mile while I run 7 whining about a sweatband. I saw a family of 5 squeezing into their 1996 Honda Civic with the windows down in 115 degree heat, pretty sure they would appreciate my van even without a power lift gate. I quickly remembered to put some gratitude in my attitude. My perspective quickly changed. So what if I look and run at the speed of grandma, I can run. Who cares if my family owns a minivan? I have an amazingly hard working husband who brings home enough money for us to have a brand new car while I get to stay at home and rear our girls. It's not about what you drive, it's about the family you put in it. I have to say I am proud each and every time I strap in my sweet bundles. My bitching stopped there.

The summer heat broke with a great day of rain. I pounded out 7 miles this am and shaved 30 seconds off my pace. When my feet hit the pavement it was a cool 71 degrees. I was very encouraged by this run. The heat is oppressive, but every drop of sweat that gets me to the finish line in November I will now be grateful for. Fuel for my soul and power to my feet.

Week 3: 17 miles
Lessons learned: Somebody out there wishes they had your problems instead of their own, and don't sweat the stupid stuff.