Monday, September 5, 2011

Hello hydration....week 10

Always be prepared. I should have been a boy scout b/c I would have learned this lesson at a much younger age. As a mother I have learned to always be prepared. Be prepared for anything. Bodily fluids can shoot out of any orifice at any given moment, multiple outfits in tote, check. Plastic bags to collect said remnants, check. Although you fed your children moments before you left your home for a ten minute fuel up, one will inevitably be hungry, snacks packed, check. Don't forget entertainment, a 40 min wait on your food is 1yr in a toddler's life, crayons, paper, books, and toys, imagination packed, check.

When I first became a mother I fell victim to the over packed baby syndrome. A three day weekend trip required 4 bags of "just in case clothes", 2 cases of diapers, 2 cases of wipes, bath seats, highchair, snacks, breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week, shoes that fit, shoes that might fit in case their feet grew overnight, jumpers, large pack and play, small pack and play, 10 blankets per day, receiving blankets that I never used at home, but brought b/c " I might need them". The kids were ready for anything, but when mommy went to get dressed for Christmas Eve dinner, she had no underwear (true story).

That pretty much sums it up. My kids are healthy, smart, and prepared. I however can't find my keys, sunglasses, or my watch on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I am not selfless, my kids are together, mom is a mess. I did focus on myself this week. Before every run I ate and drank accordingly. I fueled my body with mainly nutrients, minus the bag of sour cream and onion chips I consumed in a four day span (never shop hungry).

My long run was 14 miles. I enlisted the help of Spartan Sister and Marathon Mama (Sarah Davis). I pumped my body full of H2O the day before and carried a Gatorade/water mix during my run. Holy hydration!!! Miles 6-9 I was cruising at an 11:30 pace!!!! I felt great, assumed I looked great, and rocked it. As I ran the first five I reminded myself that my LR's don't have to be a chore. I mean for over 2 hrs I am away from the lights, sounds, sippy cup filling, tantrum wrangling, toy dodging, baby whining, dogs panting, dryer buzzing, time out dealing, bill paying, grocery shopping, meal planning, vacuum cleaning,
bathroom polishing, daily duties of my job. A job that doesn't get a Labor Day holiday or any other for that matter. It fueled me more than my magical juice. I began to embrace my "me time". For the last 9 weeks all my runs were work, week ten, 14 miles, became pleasure.

At 5:30 in the am on the streets of my Boro there aren't too many people. I literally began singing, out loud and proud. I was SINGING as each foot crushed the cool 75 degree pavement. I belted out Bon Jovi, Angie Aparo, Dixie Chicks and more.....until mile 12, apparently The Wall and I had another appointment. Little did he know I was prepared this week. I kept on. Yelling at myself "PUSH". "YOU CAN DO THIS. PUSH" I was my own doula during this run. When I pushed out my 9lb 15 oz baby girl, all naturally (seriously..no drugs)  I had a WONDERFUL doula by my side. But my 14 I used all I had...Leave it all on the road. I didn't break any records, but I did a much better job. 13.1 took 3 hrs, 14 took 3:05, that is a definite improvement.

I ran. I ran well and I ran hard. I am proud of my dedication to myself, but I am semi-proud of a choice I made. I love that show "What would you do?" You know the one where they fake situations to see if human nature prevails for good or evil. My long runs I leave my humble track and run "in town". I have extended my route as my mileage has increased. Statesboro is a very safe community, but I do run through the pieces of what might be considered the outskirts of a "not so great" neighborhood. I saw 2 men on the side of the road. I immediately crossed the street. As I ran on they crossed back, so I crossed over. I was approaching a gas station that was lit up like the 4th of July. I knew if my gut said stop I would be safe there. I ran on. I soon realized there was a woman on the opposing side of the street. I took out my ear bud to hear what was going on. One of the men was SCREAMING at her, words and sentences that no one should hear. I was terrified. From my brief encounter with the threesome it appeared that they may not have been to bed yet, time approaching 6am. The yelling escalated and I ran faster. I passed the gas station with onlookers looking, but no one saying a word. I ran. But then I stopped. My own fear may lead to a woman being beaten, verbally slaughtered, or worse?? I thought of my own girls. I would want someone to make sure they were ok. I paused my workout turned around and walked to a hotel across the street from where the three were arguing. I debated my next action. I mean it isn't a crime to argue, but I was scared for her. I stood behind the bushes, seconds away from going inside to call 911, when it went silent. I jumped out from behind the bushes to see the girl getting into a car and drive away. My lips were seconds away from screaming "Are you Ok??" when I saw her get into the car.

She left with what appeared to be friends, but with the "screamer" in tote. I am not a praying person, but I prayed for her and her safety. I wish I had swallowed my own fear and crossed the street to make sure she was ok. I am glad I didn't keep going. I am proud that I cared; I just wished I cared more. I should have approached her immediately, but fear paralyzed me. Sadly with or without our gun control people who want to will carry them. I didn't cross the street b/c I was afraid. I should have. I was seconds away from calling the police. If I carried my phone, I would have, but I don't, so I couldn't. I learned in that moment an excuse is just that...an excuse. I did half of the right thing, but the next time I will do it wholly. I can't expect my girls to treat the members of this world with love, respect, and caring unless I show them.

I am taking on 15 this weekend. Every week as I finish I say to myself "ADDING MORE?????" But I am exited about these last 9 weeks. Crunch time baby. Game on.

Week 10: 28 miles
Lesson learned: Die trying not standing by.

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