View From The Crystal Ball

Reinventing myself because life stole my mojo

2012-02-11T16:17:00.000-07:00

I'm not entirely sure who swooped in and stole my mojo but I really wish they would return it. I keep making plans to work out and get back on track with my training for Ragnar now that I can run again. And day after day life gets in the way and I find myself drained and ready for bed without having lifted a single weight or run a single step. Each day ending with a vow to make it happen tomorrow.

I stepped back earlier this week and tried to take the reigns again by scheduling in my workouts physically on my calendar. Two workouts with weights happen at 9:30 PM each week after the kids go to bed; running twice during the week at the end of the workday assuming I can actually leave my office on time and run before Hubby has to go to work; a trip to the gym every Friday night; and a long run every Sunday. I felt so much more in control after I put my "me" time in place. And then I promptly missed every single workout since then. I was too exhausted both nights that I was supposed to lift weights in the basement after the kids went to bed and instead went to bed myself. My run on the workdays both got cancelled due to issues that cropped up at work that had me there late with no time to run. Long gone are the days where I could keep up with my workload AND spend an hour in the fitness center every afternoon. I didn't run last Sunday because my foot hurt after having run seven miles during the week and I was scared shitless I was going to reinjury myself and wouldn't be able to train at all.

So yeah, I'm seriously a mess. Plus I'm giving in to my sweet tooth and eating crap that isn't good for me because its all a viscious cycle. If I'm eating great and working out I feel amazing and then I don't even want anything that isn't good for me. But now I am back to feeling crappy because I haven't figured out a way to squeeze everything into every day again which means I turn to food for comfort more often than I should. I need to pull my head out of my ass is what I need to do.

I ran this morning - the first in a week and a day later than scheduled - and it felt great. I can see progress on regaining my stamina and endurance even though I'm nowhere near where I was prior to my injury. Maybe that's also because I am running hills in an effort not to die on Ragnar this year? Yesterday I ate better and I feel like I might be taking the reins back. I still don't have all my mojo but maybe if I take it one day at a time it will magically reappear.

I added streaks of red to my hair hoping to fool life into believing I'm someone else and letting up for a bit. We'll see how much that works. Meanwhile, I'll take every day as it comes and strive for progress rather than perfection where it comes to eating and training. That and hope my sister really will let me store her treadmill in my basement instead of hers where I could use it whenever I could squeeze in a few minutes of running.

A week of milestones

2012-01-31T23:15:00.000-07:00

Last week was crazy and looking back on it I realized it was full of milestones for every facet of my life. I should have something quirky to say right here to peak your interest and hope you'll take time out of your life to read about mine but I'm too tired to try that hard right now. Oh, and I turned forty. FOUR. OH. Like oh shit you're old now. So forgive me?

Is it me or were those who told me that everything changes overnight when you hit forty right?

We had already celebrated officially since Hubby also hit this milestone last month so we picked a day in the middle and had our good friend cater a fabulous meal for us and our closest friends. It was amazing - both the company and the evening. And so when the official day of my birth arrived, it seemed kind of anti climactic. I got to do exactly what I wanted to do all day which included a whole lot of sitting around without guilt and getting caught up on movies. Oh, and a trip to the running store WITHOUT KIDS. It was a decadent hour of my life that I will cherish since it happens rarely. A couple of days later I was at the doctor's for my annual checkup and since it's the first of the year I had to fill out yet another new page of demographic and insurance information "for their files" and paused just slightly when it came to that blank next to "Age:" How brutal to have to write that number before I'd even had time to process it let alone embrace it.

I quickly got over this insane milestone that, when I was young, I heralded as the beginning of old age. After all, I don't look forty and I sure as hell don't act forty. Plus I'm in better shape physically and mentally than I ever was at thirty. Besides, I didn't have time to wallow since Baby Sister turned two under a week later.

Apparently I suspected subconsciously that "they" were right about the mind being the first to go. Because I had individually told everyone on the guest list in my head to save the date for the birthday party for Baby Sister in the weeks before my birthday. Lucky for me since I remembered to send out an actual invite (via email) with details three days before the party and stressed that no one would show up because I didn't remember having invited everyone already. Seriously, totally off my game!

Lucky for us, too, we learned the right lessons with Big Sister. Like the one that says "until your kid is old enough to remember the birthday party you shouldn't go overboard on it". We kept it low key with dinner for our immediate family. The three or four people Baby Sister sees on a regular basis and who comprise her world came later for ice cream and cake. It was perfect - well, except for that page I got at the end of the evening since I couldn't get out of my on-call shift. The next day on her official birthday she got her ears pierced. She's officially a big girl and I'm sad to lose my baby forever.

Another milestone in the last week involved work. I'm busier than I've been in years. Literally. The entire week I didn't leave the office until after 5:30. I've been thrown on a new project - which I love - but not only do I have to come up to speed in the middle they are in the throws of major conversions so there's not a lot of leeway for me to learn everything before I am required to perform new duties. Gives new meaning to "sink or swim" that I hear all the time but never experienced before. Plus, I've been assigned as the primary trainer for two new hires which carves out two hours of every day devoted to sitting in a conference room talking theory and principles and not doing any real work of my own. Oh, and did I mention the slacker on my team who is supposed to take my pager shifts and hasn't been? It all has turned into a perfect storm of high-stress and no time to run at work which makes Terra a very bitchy woman.

And then Friday - on top of everything else - my laptop decided to die. It may or may not have been a result of someone trying to help fix the issues I was having and making it worse. Now I could connect to the network in the conference room for training but not anywhere else in the building. Makes it really hard to work that way. In all fairness the hunk of outdated hardware had been on its last leg for months but this timing sucked. I ended up losing a full day and a half of productivity. Friday ended with me skipping my planned trip to the gym and coming home to yell at the kids, pour a very large adult beverage and plop on the couch for the evening to drink it and decompress. I needed it so much I didn't feel more than a twinge of guilt for not running. I was emotionally and physically drained and it would have been a shitty run anyway.

I am still struggling to get back to running shape for proper Ragnar training which started officially today. I did three miles but the last two thirds were all walk/run fartleks where I pushed myself harder than I normally would have for a training run. Hoping it pays off next time I go out and my heart and lungs are in better shape.

Last week also marked a milestone in my writing. I submitted the first three chapters of my rough draft from NaNoWriMo to my writer's group for critique. It's been years since I had any work I thought worthy of being seen by others. Two NaNos had come and gone and my beloved writer's group hadn't gotten to see the fruits of my labors or their encouragement. I was so stressed between hitting send on the email and getting feedback at our meeting. But it turns out they liked what I'd written and wanted more. Plus they gave me some great feedback on ways to tighten things up. Considering it was a true rough draft from NaNo land of "write first, ask questions later" I was happy and encouraged. They make me feel like a real writer.

So here's to life which marches on and delivers milestones in the weirdest places sometimes. Do you ever have weeks where everything happens all at once in every area of your life or is it just me?

Back to the beginning

2012-01-15T12:51:00.001-07:00

This past week felt like the beginning of more than another year. I did my first run without pain in more time than I can remember and I started editing what I wrote in NaNoWriMo.

While my body has healed from my injury and I'm finished kicking myself for waiting so long to address it as the injury it was for a year, that doesn't mean I just pick up where I left off. I thought I could but I was wrong. I have to start all over again. I've lost so much ground with my cardio that I couldn't keep my heart rate down in the aerobic zone if I ran more than a few minutes at a time at my comfortable pace. After a frustrating mile of running with some irritating walking interspersed (accompanied by curses mumbled under my breath which I'm sure still offended the girl walking next to me) I climbed off the treadmill and opted instead for a spin bike. It was my first time on one and I loved it. Well, once I got it adjusted appropriately for my short legs anyway. It was easy to lose myself in my audio book and make easy adjustments to keep my heart rate in zone 2. I came away from it feeling as refreshed as if I'd run the whole forty minutes. I guess I'll be doing a bunch of walk/run and spinning for a few weeks until I can get my heart and lungs back in shape. It's a road I've traveled before and I've heard it comes back fairly quickly. Let's hope so! I'm looking back and regretting skipping the gym entirely just because I was dejected about not being able to run. If only I had kept up with my cardio... *sigh*

Editing my writing is a road I have not traveled too much - unless you count that first attempt at NaNoWriMo where I wrote a chapter and then obsessively edited it over and over again losing sight of the whole point. This is different editing altogether. NaNo is all about writing first and asking questions later which I embraced wholeheartedly. The drawback of this is that you get to the end and your characters and even their motivations have changed since you've gotten to know them better. Plus, the story itself evolves. I'm at a place where I can't finish the ending unless I fix the beginning to keep things consistent. I started doing that this week and while it is cool I find it takes a lot more time to see progress than just banging out a first draft with abandon. I've got my first two chapters pretty well polished and ready for my writer's group. They refuse to be patient enough for me to finish what I started during NaNoWriMo to read something and I really can't blame them. After all, they were with me every step of the way and should be rewarded accordingly.

So far 2012 is promising to be a great year!

Let the madness continue

2012-01-07T22:38:00.000-07:00

We got into the sold out Ragnar Relay Wasatch Back!!! Our number came up on the waiting list this week and I literally was jumping up and down when I got the phone call. I wanted to scream but kept at least my voice composed for the angel on the other side of the line with the news I'd been waiting ever so patiently for months for.

And so it is official - training starts the first of February. Race day mid June with a semi-new crop of fellow crazies. I've already substituted two runners from the original twelve who committed and paid back in July when we got on the waiting list. Luckily I had two people waiting in the wings for a shot at joining the party. This year Hubby and I will be in "the other" van so we can experience the entire race route. Since Hubby is back to tip top shape and is officially one of the strong runners, we have to be in the van with the ubber-hard "Ragnar Hill". And this year I'm taking a leg with shorter total mileage. I learned my lesson last year. Hard means hard when it's labeled as such regardless of how innocuous the elevation map makes it look.

I use Nike+ to track my running - it's the coolest app on my iPhone - and every year they give you a rundown of the previous year. I ran a total of five hundred miles in 2011 averaging three runs and ten miles a week. Pretty impressive considering I haven't run more than a couple of miles since Thanksgiving. Compared to 2010 when I *only* ran three hundred seventeen miles I'm pretty happy with myself.

I'm slowly easing myself back into training mode. I ran twice this week and it still amazes me to wake up in the morning without pain in my foot. All the physical therapy and massage therapy has worked wonders and I'm so grateful it was so easily solved. It's insane how much you get out of practice when you stop doing cardio regularly and I'm trying not to get frustrated that I can't just head out and easily do three to five miles at a time. I have January to get back to where I was before I have to start hard core training. Twenty three weeks until Ragnar. I hope it is enough time.

Race Archive 2011

2012-01-03T15:10:00.001-07:00

Another list for my OCD. Although this one seems tiny compared to 2010. But it represents double the training effort so I'm recording it anyway. Officially 2011 was the year of Ragnar. The best part: doing both of them with my Hubby.

Ragnar 2011 - Wasatch Back Relay
June 17-18, 2011
(192 miles, Logan to Park City, UT)
Personal mileage: 21 miles
Team time: 38 hours 05 minutes

Ragnar 2011 - Las Vegas Relay
October 21-22, 2011
(195 miles, Lake Mead to Red Rock, NV)
Personal mileage: 14.2 miles
Team time: 33 hours 31 minutes

I also trained for a half marathon in October which I got two weeks away from and had to cancel because of my injury. The injury I could no longer ignore... sometimes reality really bites.

Book List Archive 2011

2012-01-03T14:39:00.002-07:00

Time once again to file away all the things from last year and clean up the sidebar for the new year ahead. This year I successfully read more - thank you, Audible! I doubled the amount of reading for my own pleasure this year by combining reading and running. Still one of my most brilliant ideas!

Flirt, Laurell K. Hamilton
The Wave, Todd Strausser (book club)
The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady, Elizabeth Stuckey-French (book club)
Sarah's Key, Tatiana de Rosnay (book club)
Dream Chaser (Dark Hunter #14), Sherrilyn Kenyon
The Help, Kathryn Stockett (book club)
State of Wonder, Ann Patchett (my pick for book club)
Icy Sparks, Gwyn Hyman Rubio (book club)
Five Quarters of the Orange, Joanne Harris (book club)
Pride (Shifters #3), Rachel Vincent
I Don't Want To Kill You, Dan Wells
The Whistling Season, Ivan Doig (book club)
The Gathering Storm (Wheel of Time #12), Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson
My Name is Memory, Ann Brashares
The Aquariums of Pyongyang, Kang Chol-Hwan (book club)
American Gods, Neil Gaiman
The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, Avi (book club)
Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson (book club)

Going crazy without an outlet

2011-12-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

I'm currently an injured runner. Something I never thought I would have to deal with. I knew I got far more than weight management benefits from my running but until I was sidelined I had no idea the real impact running has on my life and my sanity. Oh I had an idea but I seriously hadn't come close to the reality. It's been three weeks since my last real run - minus the test run after I saw my therapist which did not go well. And I haven't been able to run regularly since before Thanksgiving.

I'M. GOING. STIR. CRAZY.

I can't concentrate on anything. All I can think about is running and how I can't do it. I get dejected thinking about going to the gym because I know when I get there I can't run and then because I know I will be tempted to run if I go I just don't. I stay up too late, I sleep too late, I have too little patience with my kids and my husband. I can't sit still long enough to focus on writing consistently. I'm a mess!! I even found myself resentful about hubby's gym time because he shouldn't be able to do what he loves when I can't. Am I right?

There is good news, however. I no longer have foot pain when I wake up in the morning - something I haven't been able to say for going on a year. (Yes, that long, really!) And it was only a little bit of pain resulting from my test run after my last treatment. So, progress! I see my miracle worker massage therapist again tomorrow and I'm hopeful I'll be back on the trails by early next week. I've even managed to curtail the daily expansion of my ass by adjusting my eating. No need to fuel my body for running I'm not doing at the moment... (I'm such a creature of habit!)

Whatever you do that you love, rejoice in it and cherish that you can do it. And if you're a runner - stay healthy! I wouldn't wish injury on anyone because it plain sucks ass.

This week's lesson on balance

2011-12-14T17:11:00.002-07:00

It's the holidays and like what I hope are the rest of the women/wife/mothers out there, I start planning and spread-sheeting and making lists around Thanksgiving (okay, post NaNo!) and spend the three weeks before Christmas jockeying for the right gift for everyone on my list. Hubby admits to never having a good idea for a gift and happily sits back and lets me handle everything. I used to feel a tiny bit bad about this like I was taking too much of my own control in this piece of our marriage. But lately I wonder if he's actually not the smarter of the two of us having now manipulated himself out of all responsibility for gift giving and letting me have all the stress. Hmm. I hope it was only coincidental on his part and he's merely reaping the coincidental rewards.

Big Sister's best friend on the planet and her family moved into the house on the corner last month. After three years of living far enough away that to see each other outside of school hours required coordinating a play date with their parents, the girls are ecstatic to be able to walk across the street any time they want to see each other. It has added a new dynamic to parenting - since she now wants to do nothing but play all day and all weekend. She even told me that she wanted to quit dancing so she had more time with her BFF (Best Friend Forever). The other day when I'd had enough of her room looking like a tornado had blown through and yelling constantly about how she either needed to do X or she was grounded from seeing BFF, I took a step back and had a conversation with her about how she thought things were going. As if on queue, she asked me how she is supposed to do her homework and go to dance and do her chores and still see BFF every day. I told her it is all about finding balance between the things you have to do and the things you want to do so you can do both. Do you think it's easy for me to be Mommy to you and Baby Sister, and be Daddy's wife, and run the household and go to work every day and be a good employee and still have time to run and write and read and all the things I WANT to do? Nope, it's hard and it sucks some days but by finding ways to be better and faster and more effective at the things that I have to do, and sometimes giving up things I don't care as much about as others, it gives me more time to do the things I want to do. The conversation that began with her in tears throwing her hands in the air in frustration ended with a pretty grown-up kind of discussion which I hope lays the groundwork for a very valuable lesson she'll have to remember the rest of her life. Maybe this will be one of those things that she'll remember for the positive column when she's in therapy as an adult?

On the heels of this conversation, the stars aligned as they rarely do resulting in a day all about me. I had neglected scheduling a hair appointment too long and had some seriously embarrassing regrowth going on. My sister was in the same boat so we decided to schedule together so we could hang out for a few hours. The stylist could get us in before Christmas (a miracle in itself) but only for an afternoon appointment. I checked my calendar and didn't have anything scheduled that day at work and decided it was meant to be. While I was at it, I'd take the entire day off. I haven't had one of those with the exception of the time off required to do my two Ragnars since last spring so I was due! Since I had the whole day off, I called to see if I could get in to see the massage therapist my sister has been demanding I go see to fix my plantar fasciitis issue. I called, she answered, and had an appointment open the same morning. What are the odds? While inputting the massage appointment in my calendar I realized I had a girls' night dinner planned that night from weeks ago and had already lined up a babysitter. Seriously! A decadent day of activities for me and only me. I came home from girls night that night refreshed and recharged. Dinner lasted an hour longer than normal because one of the group was running late and we decided to wait to order. We got to chat in depth enough to realize we were all going through the same things as everyone else and buoying each other up like only girlfriends can. If only I could have squeezed a run in it would have been the perfect day.

Here's where I tell you about how I haven't been running and where I admit that my "injury" had become a full blown injury (without the quotation marks) sidelining me from my favorite pastime. I can't ignore it anymore when I go for a little baby mile run and can barely walk for days afterward; where it is so bad that even if I haven't run in a couple of days and go to a friend's house with the "no shoe" rule and spend three hours barefoot I'm in agony when I leave; where the only shoes I wear are my running shoes for the support to stave off the pain and I wear them every minute I'm awake every day. The worst part is that because I really haven't been able to run more than three or four miles a week since the Vegas Ragnar, I put on TEN POUNDS without even realizing it. Until one day I put my jeans on and they were uncomfortably snug. Of course then I was so depressed about the ten pounds I put on five more from emotional eating. *sigh*

The good news is that running is just over the horizon for me. I put my big girl panties on and did something about it. I spent an hour with my sister's amazing massage therapist who touched nothing but my lower leg. I walked yesterday for forty five minutes as directed and still had zero pain when I woke up this morning. Which means today I get to go for a little jog and see how it goes. If I have no pain, I'm cleared to resume my normal running. If it still hurts, I have to go see her again. I'm tingling with both anticipation and dread at how it will go. I want to be able to run so bad and I'm so scared it isn't going to be that easy. But until I try I'm just sitting here with my ass growing larger by the hour - or so it feels.

Wish me luck! And here's to you - may you have a happy holiday season while maintaining balance in your own life. Remember that if you don't take care of you, there isn't enough of you to take care of everyone else...

How I survived (and won) NaNoWriMo 2011

2011-12-02T16:15:00.001-07:00

Remember when I was heading into this mammoth undertaking and I said I was scared because this time around it felt different? Well, almost everything about this year was different.

This was my fourth "NaNo" (as people in the know call it) and my second win. But, I had several epiphanies this time around which will be the difference in getting the first step of this multi-year project finally finished. It is the hardest step I believe: Finish your manuscript. A first draft must exist in order to edit and polish and make pretty enough to convince a publisher to take a chance on your book. It's something that no matter how many times I've started I haven't figured out how to do. Before now.

No, I'm not finished, don't get all a twitter just yet!

But I am still writing in December which has never happened before. Even the first time I won I digressed into word padding shenanigans and let my characters do whatever they wanted to regardless of where I wanted the story to go or what I thought their motivations should be. In all honesty, it was long ago and I don't even think I realized they NEEDED motivations yet. That year all I wanted was the sheer volume of 50K to say I'd won. And December first came and I abandoned the entire thing. That year I never even got out of the beginning, let alone the dreaded middle.

This year I treated NaNo like I had a second job. Everyone in my life knew that my writing was happening at a specific scheduled time (9:00-11:00PM) and let me do it without interruption during that time. If I'm ever going to be a published author without quitting my day job that's the way it's going to have to be. And guess what - when I started living like I already have what I want, it was easy to do what I needed to do to make it happen. Epiphany #1: writing every day is possible regardless of what you have going on in your life. It's just like anything else - if it's important enough you'll find the time to do it.

Writer's block aside, which I dealt with the second week and already wrote about, I stuck to marching my characters down the road I had mapped out for all of them in my plot structure/outline. This got me through the middle before I even realized it. Epiphany #2: it doesn't matter what advice other authors tell you, the only way to be successful is to figure out what works for you personally. I thought I was a discovery writer because my favorite author said that's how he writes. So I spent a couple of years forcing myself to be that, without the success I thought was inevitable. Then I continued to learn and grow as a writer and explored other possible ways of doing things. I morphed several things that struck me as interesting to work for my own personal style and in the end found my own unique method.

One of the benefits of being an official, registered participant in this event is getting weekly pep talks from published authors who have been where you are every step of the way. I got one that hit home as we headed into the final stretch. Basically it said that 50K was not ever going to be a completed novel but the important thing was to finish the story and be able to write "The End" by the time you got there. To do this, you pick key scenes you already know are going to happen and you don't care about tying them cohesively together, you just write each of them until you get the basic story down. Then, you go back and fill in the parts between them that have to get the characters from each big scene cohesively. Ephiphany #3: a rough draft is never going to be anything but a diamond in the rough so don't get bogged down in getting every single thing perfect. Just write - and ask questions later. Without this little gem, I would have gotten bogged down in not knowing every single little detail of what happens in the story leading up to the finale and gotten stalled out. Instead, I wrote the scenes I knew and had already pictured in my head. And I found out that, by doing so, many of the details of how to get the characters there were answered after they arrived. And on at least one occasion, I found relationships had changed on the way to that point which will make going back and filling in the blanks that much better.

One of the things I wish I could have changed was not getting so far behind. I wrote eighteen thousand of my fifty thousand in the last five days. FIVE. DAYS. I don't recommend this to anyone - especially if you have a full time job! I was up until three in the morning for several consecutive nights trying to work and stay awake to do it all over the next day. I wrote during my lunch hour at work and for the hour I would normally have gone to the gym in the afternoons. I lived on coffee - pots and pots of it all day and all night - and food that was not good for me. The worst part is I was so exhausted that even if I had time to work out, I didn't have the energy to do it. I'm still afraid to step on the scale and see how much damage has been done, I'm already feeling the effects of the caffeine withdrawals, and I'm pretty sure in my delirious state on November thirtieth I said things in a staff meeting that were wildly inappropriate.

I did take an hour the second to last evening to attend an event at a friend's house. It was exactly what I needed - to see the majority of my writer's group who cheered me on and were as excited about me being out of the middle as I was. They gave me that extra boost of encouragement I needed to see me through the last INSANE twenty four hours. If you ever decide to do this yourself, make sure you tell everyone and then shout it out to Facebook and Twitter for good measure. All the people in your life cheering you on makes those bleak and dark hours when you don't think you have it in you to continue never more than fleeting in the grand scheme of things.

All that aside, I survived - and I'm still writing - and when I look back I hope this proves to be the year that all the pieces finally fell into place. Someone said that NaNo (or any rough draft) is like filling the room with straw that later you use to spin into gold. I think of it more like all the hard work of finding and digging up a big, ugly chunk of rock. When you're done, you're left with something that hopefully you can polish and cut into a beautiful gem. To all of you who stuck with me and cheered me on and said you knew I could do it: Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you!

Your latest NaNoWriMo WINNER!

2011-11-30T23:33:00.001-07:00

I DID IT!!!

With thirty minutes to spare - and 50,205 words at time of validation!

Now I need to sleep. For a week.

And then finish the story which isn't done no matter how many words I busted ass to pull out in the last month. This first rough draft demands to be finished.

Stay tuned, you know I'll tell you all about it...

The home stretch stress

2011-11-26T15:07:00.001-07:00

Five days left of November and I've written 32,783 words since the beginning of the month. I should have ten thousand more than that but I got derailed this past week with the holiday and family responsibilities after I had gotten caught up from my first sidebar into the weeds. I've got characters who have taken me places I hadn't thought of, characters who I've had to re-invent to work better with the world and story I'm building as things develop. Despite all of that, I'm pushing hard for the end. I have five days left and at this rate I have to write more than three thousand words every day in order to win NaNoWriMo. I haven't given up yet - I wrote two thousand words between the end of a family party last night and going to bed this morning after two AM. And I still have two more days of a long weekend to do some major catch up. I'm not going to lie, I get anxious about my chances of winning when I look at the daily numbers. But I'm still on track and still have the basic idea of how things are going thanks to my fabulous plot structure and I've still got great momentum. I have not yet resorted to word-padding shenanigans (which I have done in years past). As long as I can find the energy and drink enough coffee to stay awake long enough every night to hit that target word count I'll be golden. Ready or not, here comes one of the craziest week of my life!

New beginnings in unexpected places

2011-11-18T00:16:00.001-07:00

Here we are in week three of NaNoWriMo. And what a wild ride it has been. I thought a couple of times that I might be sort of cheating this year since I've *technically* been working on the same novel I originally started with back in 2008. But I used the following rational to counter that:

I had scrapped every piece of shitty writing I'd done to date and had no plans to even look back at any of it for reference. (yes, it was that shitty!)
I had plotted out a structure for the entire story complete with several subplots all neatly tied in with each other
I had even changed the main character's name since we named Baby Sister the original character name when she was born

With the new plot and new character motivations I knew the book would be far different than I had envisioned when I first came up with the idea. But guess what? I never needed to rationalize a single little thing!

I had a rough start after I got through the prologue (which hasn't really changed much over each iteration of attempts). I wrote myself into a corner where I knew my character would never be stupid enough to do what I was trying to make her do as a means to get her physically from one place to another. I wasted days of writing more crap dragging one scene out and never getting anywhere but behind in my target word count. I was honestly getting worried. What if I hadn't prepared enough? What if I couldn't figure out how to translate a plot to a real story? What if I failed?

Then I went for a run.

And I had the best run of my life - five miles in a hour which is insanely fast for me!

I must have shook up my brain with all that pounding of treadmill because I came off that run with a shit-eating grin glued to my face AND a way to get myself out of the corner and fix everything!

I rushed home and wrote like a mad woman. I was able to salvage most of that original crappy chapter and after adding seven hundred or so words I was back on track toward where I needed to be heading. I was even on my way to the next mile-marker plot point.

And I know I was still high from that amazing run when the next morning in the shower I had the one piece of unknown I'd been trying to solve SINCE THE BEGINNING IN 2008 just fall into place. It was so earth-shattering when it happened I expected to feel the earth move beneath me. But it didn't. One minute I had this question of "how does that happen that will make sense and be believable" playing over and over in my subconscious. And the next it was clear as day how it would all work. The last loose end was no longer loose! Plus, it was so fundamental that it changed everything. Including the title which had been the one constant from the beginning.

I wonder if anyone else who embarked on this journey is experiencing anything similar. Because it is crazy how unbelievable it all is and I'm only half done!

Easy-peasy... that's what SHE said!

2011-11-09T17:13:00.001-07:00

We are officially nine days into November and when I finally went to bed last night, I felt amazing. I pushed past head-nodding and what I know is crappy-writing-that-will-have-to-be-edited-like-crazy to hit the ten thousand word mark for this year's NaNoWriMo. Well on my way to that fifty thousand needed to get me a winner status by the end of the month. Sounds great, right? Except the little stats page on the official site is telling me that "at this rate" I'll finish well into December because to date I have *only* been averaging 1,121 words a day. So much for that buffer I started with when I stayed up on Halloween to write for two hours when it officially became November, huh?

But guess what? I DON'T CARE!

This year's progress tracker on the NaNo website - which for those of you contemplating participating at a later date makes registering as a participant worth it alone - is much better than in years past. I say this because I am a numbers girl. I need the data at my fingertips, calculated for me, so I don't obsess and waste valuable writing time assessing for myself just how much writing I have done or have left to do. As in years past, it tells you what your target word count for each day is if you write slow and steady and do the recommended 1,667 words a day. But this year it tells you what you personally average every day and how many words a day you personally need to do at any point in order to finish on time. Whoever thought of this improvement should be kissed. Sloppy and loud -- on the mouth -- with tongue!

Here's why. November fifth is my wedding anniversary. I take that entire day off from writing every year. But this is well enough into the month - almost a week - that we are already into some serious numbers on the daily word count targets. Those daily 1,667 words add up quickly, kids! The target for the fifth day is 8,333, but instead I stagnate an entire day at only 6,666. Then when I go back to it on the sixth day and my word count target for the day is 10,000... well, you can imagine the stress and head games that go along with those two numbers and how far apart they are. The pressure imposed on catching up such a deficit, I admit, completely derailed me the first year I attempted this crazy adventure. But I don't have the option of not celebrating my anniversary! Hubby is super supportive of my writing but even he would have issue with that...

Fast forward to this year when the same thing happened. PLUS, I had to work last Sunday when I would normally have had plenty of time sitting in front of a football game on TV to catch up on my word count. AND I've been unable to push myself to stay up super late this week without falling asleep on my keyboard. Or worse, writing incoherent crap that I have to delete the next day. Which results in my only having 10,092 words out of yesterday's target of 13,333.

But guess what! My super duper nifty stats page tells me that all I have to do is write 1,814 words every day from now on to make up the difference and still finish on time. That's only an extra 147 words per day from the original daily target or only about 700 more words a day than I have already been averaging this month. And totally doable when presented in this fashion.

BRILLIANT!!

My stress level for NaNoWriMo this year is more manageable all because of someone somewhere (who probably doesn't get paid for helping on this non-profit adventure) who is a numbers person like me. Wherever that person is, whoever she or he is, I hope someday they stumble upon this blog and know just how much I appreciate this one stroke of genius.

If there is one piece of writing advice that I have found to be universally true no matter who asks it, it is this: Write. And write every day. I'm at ten thousand plus words in a week just by carving out two hours a day, every day except my anniversary. If I can do it with a full time job and hectic home life when the only time I have to devote to writing is the time I'm awake after my kids go to bed, then anyone can!

Want to know what running is like?

2011-11-04T10:11:00.000-06:00

I just saw this video and it so accurately sums up how I feel about running that I had to share it...

Thanks to a good friend and fellow runner for sharing it with me, my heart gets lighter every time I watch it and my feet itch to hit the pavement. Even though I know I shouldn't until I do a bit more physical therapy for my injured foot. I'm a stubborn bitch, everyone knows that already, right?

Las Vegas - Ragnar Style

2011-11-04T00:44:00.001-06:00

You know it's November, right? Which means I SHOULD be writing my novel and not recapping Ragnar. But if I don't do it now all the amazing things that I want to remember will fade as all memories do. And that would suck. So I'm taking one for all of you and will just suck it up and drink an extra cup of coffee so I can stay up later tonight to meet my writing goal after I finish this post. Aren't you glad I love you, my readers?

The things that make a Ragnar a Ragnar don't ever change - you still have twelve people split between two vans who run leapfrog style taking turns running their way through two hundred miles to the finish line. In between, there's three runs a piece, two periods of "rest" when your van is not the one with the active runners, and lots and lots of driving. So, I won't regale you with the sweaty details of the parts you already know about.

What was different between Vegas and Wasatch Back?

1. We had different van mates.

This time we were invited to join a team and I was NOT the captain. What a refreshing change for me not to have to worry about every little detail! Hubby and I and Steven got to ride and run with two of our friends that were in the "other" van on Wasatch Back - Carrie and Nancy - driven by Nancy's hubby, Trent. We rounded out the sixth with one of my brother's friends - Austin - who fit in amazingly well. Probably because he is as sarcastic and fun as we all are. I'm telling you, the people in your van make all the difference in the world on the experience you will have. If you ever do one, you want to stack your van with YOUR peeps, provided you have peeps that are crazy enough to do this race with you.

2. The other van was full of elite runners.

Four of the six people in the other van did the same race last year as an ultra team. Which means they are crazy enough to do the entire two hundred miles split up between only six of them instead of twelve. Because the entire van were elite runners with sub eight minute mile paces (that is INSANELY fast for those of you non-runners) we didn't have much down time between our running. The first time we had about three hours. That was just enough time to get to the next exchange point to wait for them, snarf some amazing food (tri-tips and chicken grilled to perfection with a side of delicious pasta salad) sitting on asphalt in a dark parking lot and then sacking out in the gravel between the bushes of the planter boxes of the same dark parking lot. The second time we had about five hours in the wee hours of the morning. Not being locals, we had to follow the course the runners were on, through winding dirt and gravel roads, to get to the next exchange to wait. That drive ate two hours of our time up and later we learned we could have taken the interstate and a much more direct route. If only we had known. This is also why Steven and Austin didn't really sleep. Steven because he took over the driving detail when Trent started falling asleep so we didn't all die. I think Austin is just not used to sacking out with strangers...didn't want to let his guard down, maybe?

3. Fewer teams on the course.

This is a huge catch-22 for me. Wasatch Back allows one thousand and fifty teams and sells out every single year. That's twenty two HUNDRED vans on the back roads between Logan and Park City. Vegas had about four hundred fifty teams total and it really was much better. There wasn't as much chaos at the major exchanges. We could adequately support our runners without fearing we wouldn't make it to drop the next runner off in time. All the things those people who don't want me personally to get OFF the waiting list for Wasatch Back 2012 have said in protest when they talk about allowing more teams. I get it now. Fewer teams means a more laid back race for everyone. And I really enjoyed that part of the Vegas race.

4. The scenery sucks.

I'm sorry to anyone who thinks that dessert landscape is beautiful, because I think those people are nuts. I had to run through desolate stretches of ugly ass scenery twice with the sun baking down on me feeling like I would shrivel up and die. Like some dead lizard. And no one would ever find my body. I'm used to running in the majestic beauty of northern Utah and by comparison this totally sucked. Not a tree in sight, no shade for miles, and dirt. In eight six and ninety degree heat respectively. For the record, I know why the Vegas race is where they give you double medals. Otherwise, no one would want to do it! Of course, there were some pretty parts - Lake Mead at the first major exchange point between vans, and the Red Rock area near the finish were both pretty. And the one bad ass hill we had to climb had a few trees at the top with a small section where it could be called nice. However, I did not get to run anywhere near any of those places.

5. The jokes were a lot more funny this time around - probably because we were all so much more sleep deprived!

Every time one of us would do something dumb, someone would smile and reply "aw, at least you're pretty". This little saying was used so often it ended up written on the window by the end.
Bad ass honey badgers. If you haven't seen the youtube video, you should. Although it will never be as funny as we all thought it was with zero sleep when we had it playing on one of the iPhones in the middle of the night. We picked up and repeated two lines from this little gem: "You're a bad-ass honey badger - you don't give a shit!" and "I'm a tired little fuck". Trust me, even I thought it was less funny when I got home and had gotten a little sleep so don't feel bad if you don't 'get it'. (at least you're pretty!)
Austin obsessing about how all he needed when he got done running was a banana - and me meeting him at the exchange after his hardest leg with one.
Strobe light effects from a high-powered mag light accompanied by cow bells out the window in the middle of the night, compliments of Trent the driver extraordinaire.
"You guys can take your vests off now". Three of us in the back seat had fallen asleep on the two hour drive from hell. When we arrived it was daylight and we all still had our night gear on.
The anonymous chalk message written on a part of the course Austin ran that said "pick up your vagina and run faster!" It became our mantra.
When the girls weren't feeling so fresh anymore, Carrie stopped and bought a little bottle of baby powder that we then used to freshen up. Guess what - you can overdo powdering your girl parts in compression shorts... afterward, we had the insanely funny idea of calling our team the "Powder Pussies" the next time we raced. Something tells me that name might not be allowed.
Relating an injury to the other van and referring to it as "I bruised my vagina". Oh the jokes that followed that one...

There were so many other noteworthy things that happened in those thirty three hours that I could go on and on about:

Steven saying randomly over and over, "Austin, have I said 'thank you' lately?" every time he thought about how he was originally assigned to the runner position Austin did.
Taking time to set up a tent at the last major exchange so we could all go inside, strip down and take a baby-wipe shower. "You know you're on Ragnar when a baby wipe shower is the highlight of your weekend."
Hubby getting mad at the inconsiderate and obnoxious college-aged children who wouldn't shut up so we could sleep on the ground around them.
Carrie and Nancy running all three times in the dark.
Steven's sprint finish on his last run.
My getting the shaft and having to run TWICE in the dreaded heat - in the ugliest parts of the course to boot.
Watching Austin power through his TEN mile run - six of which was brutal uphill and then being stubborn to a fault when asked if he wanted/needed someone to take over and finish it for him.
Losing Carrie at the second major exchange after she handed off to the other van.
Lake Las Vegas at night is so amazingly beautiful! We all said we wanted to come back to Vegas and stay there instead of the usual places you think of when you think Las Vegas.
Hubby starting the weekend saying "this is my last Ragnar". And then kicking ass and feeling so great at the end that he was asking when the next one is.
The wonders of 'Sore No More' cream - just don't put it near your girl parts!
Nancy crying out "That's MY girl" when a confused runner from a different team slapped her bracelet on Carrie who was waiting for Nancy to hand off to her.
Nancy and Carrie both running personal-best fastest times - on their THIRD runs when they were the most tired. Both of them ran sub-nine minute miles. A-maz-ing!
Nancy commenting on how fast this adorable, young girl runner was when she left the exchange significantly ahead of Nancy - and then Nancy running so fast she overtook the same girl while we all cheered her on with cowbells. Then when Nancy passed off to Carrie, she paced the entire leg with the same girls' husband who happened to be the same guy who offered us bananas at the first leg when Austin was obsessing about how badly he needed a banana. See, smaller is better!
Wine for the women at the finish line. The bottle we bought in a gas station and had hauled with us the whole way in the cooler. Drank from a shared paper cup we swiped from the hotel room. Best glass of wine ever because it was so deserved.
Feeling sorry for people we saw at the finish line with "only" one medal because this was their first Ragnar of the year. Saints and Sinners medal for those of us who did Wasatch Back this year and Deuces Wild medal for those who had done at least one other one plus Vegas this year.
Walking through The Paris hotel casino after the race was over. Sweaty, stinky, haggard looking while women in hoochie skirts and hooker heels made up perfectly passed by on all sides. And not giving a shit because just being there meant we were headed to a shower and a real bed.
Crashing in the room and not seeing a single typical Vegas sight before hitting the road to come home the next day. Although Steven did!

So what about my own personal experience running this time around?

The highlight of the running part for me was my night run at one in the morning. It was chilly enough for a light jacket, I could see the Strip all lit up in the distance, and the run itself was easy and enjoyable. Well, that is until it was longer than advertised and I had spent everything I had in me thinking I was almost done. Luckily, Carrie had back-tracked to find me in the dark after they parked and we ran in together the last half mile. I was hurting and spent and she kept trying to distract me by making me think about what I was going to do the minute we got done and what drink we were going to celebrate our finish with. I don't know if I ever even answered her, but just having to think about it in my head and knowing she was right there with me kept me pushing to the end. She's my favorite little ferret.

The lowest part for me was when I had to admit I couldn't finish my last run. I'd been ignoring a pretty significant running injury for months (ha, still am!) and after the end of my second run I knew the third was going to be brutal. Luckily, it was going to be one hundred percent downhill. Not a single foot of elevation increase according to the race maps. I started out feeling great and pounding the miles out. About two miles into my six mile run it wasn't downhill anymore. And uphill aggravates my injury worse - plantar fasciitis - as it pulls the tendon on the bottom of my foot in a bad way. I was still in good spirits and made a deal with myself and my burning foot: walk the distance between every other barrel cone and run the rest. That worked for about a mile and then I could barely walk and had to stop at every barrel to stretch my calves just so I could walk to the next one. Every step sent sharp pains shooting up from my foot and I literally thought I was going to die. No more running for this girl. Not that day. So I walked - and cried - and cried harder as each person passed me - until I could see my van appear over the next rolling hill. Nancy was walking toward me and as I came within earshot she asked if I was all right. I told her 'No' and cried harder as she took off running back toward the van. My amazing Hubby - who already knew it was too bloody hot out and too much rolling hills for me to handle - had already suited up and warmed up and was ready to go. He crossed the two-lane highway, hugged and kissed me and let me cry on his shoulder for a second and then finished my last mile and did his six. The fact that this is my lowest point and most likely made his Ragnar all at the same time is only a little ironic. Almost as ironic as knowing he was unable to finish his last leg on the Wasatch Back and had trained super hard for Vegas so as not to repeat it. He was certainly my hero that day.

After, we talked about how this Ragnar was Blood, Sweat and Tears. Hubby had bled when he banged his leg on the tailgate at some point, we were ALL sweaty and stinky, and I had cried like a baby... In the end, we all decided that Ragnar is really about being with friends for thirty six hours straight. The running part is just a reason to make the time and do it.

Here's hoping we get a spot for Wasatch Back in 2012. And if not, we'll find another one to do instead!

Gearing up for NaNoWriMo - take four

2011-10-27T22:39:00.000-06:00

It's almost November and, like many writers, that means I'm gearing up to embark on National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). This will be my fourth attempt to write 50,000 words - FIFTY. THOUSAND. WORDS - between November 1st and 30th. Nothing else in my life is slacking during this month. I don't get to take a sabbatical from work or being a Mom or being a wife. I just have to add this gargantuan task into the already crazy mix. I know it can be done - I "won" the year I was pregnant with baby sister after all. Although I could argue that life was way less crazy back then with only an eight year old in the house to care for.

In anticipation of the event, my writer's group met this week and I laid out my rough ideas and got tons of great feedback, as always. We discussed things I need to remember to think about. Hard questions were asked, ones I hope I have answers for stewing around in the soup of my subconscious where this story's been brewing. Brainstorming for things that could happen to make the story different and unique that I'd never considered were thrown around. I don't know what I'd do without those three women...

This NaNo feels different. I've got a plot structure and my version of character studies that double as story lines that feel much like a plot. ME! A PLOT! I've sharpened my tools and laid them neatly in my writer's toolbox. And I've committed to both myself and my writer's group that once I start writing come November I'm not stopping until I've got a completed first draft. Time to step up, grow a vagina and put my money where my mouth is about this writing stuff. Which I'm sure is why things feel different this time. It's the anticipation of knowing that something big might be happening... and hoping you don't fuck it all up.

Life is a whirlwind... hold on tight!

2011-10-20T16:58:00.000-06:00

I'm forcing myself to take a break from the whirlwind of life I'm currently caught up in. I didn't realize the 30-day blog challenge would result in me missing writing here every day but it did and I feel like I've abandoned my poor blog. You know what they say, it only takes twenty one days to create a habit and clearly I've developed the habit of writing every day. Success!

Last week was a frenzy of planning and execution to celebrate Big Sister turning ten years old. We had three days of celebration in a row between our little family, her friend party and extended family party. We survived and I didn't have much time to get hung up on how fast the last decade has flown by. Seriously, I have a ten year old?

Immediately I was thrust into planning mode for the next big thing happening just days later...

Tomorrow Hubby and I leave for Las Vegas to run our second Ragnar Relay of this year. I know I have been running all summer but at the same time I fear I haven't trained enough. I guess we'll see on Friday and Saturday how well I'm prepared this time around. The first time I did everything by the book and by the numbers - meaning I followed the twenty week training program faithfully. Was it beginners nervousness or my stressing about having to run twenty plus miles in two days that motivated me? Could have been a little bit of both. Now, I'm a seasoned Ragnar alumni who knows what to expect, have WAY easier runs on tap AND get to run mostly downhill - for real, this time - AND at half the elevation than I normally train in. So, I'm less stressed and haven't been running the kinds of mileage I probably should have been since my longest run is *only* six miles. The classification of each of my runs are moderate, easy and moderate - compared to hard, very hard and hard last time. Either I'm a genius not to have been stressing all summer or I've set myself up for failure like an idiot. Honestly I fear it could go either way. I'm looking forward to a van full of people I know well and love and seeing a side of Vegas I've never seen before. Regardless of how I run, I know it will be a blast. Hubby and I are viewing it as a four-day mini vacation with a little bit of running thrown in and are looking forward to spending some quality time together while our girls spend a party weekend with their fabulous nanny.

When we return, I'll again only have two or three days to prepare for the next big thing: Halloween - my favorite day of the year. We have a neighborhood party with the kids, an adults-only party, a family party AND the school festivities all on tap BEFORE the actual trick-or-treating. I'm still sad I am not going to be running the Halloween Half with several of my friends and loved ones but there's always next year. When I look at how crazy the last half of October is it is probably for the best that I threw in the towel on squeezing a half marathon into the mix.

And there will be no rest before the next big thing:

The day after Halloween, I'm embarking on my fourth National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) where I will *finally* emerge at the end of November with not only a win but a completed first draft of a novel. Technically I'm still working on the same novel I started back in 2008 but the only thing the same about it has been the title and basic premise. Now I have a plot structure outline, a synopsis, character studies, etc. and will hit the ground running on November 1st. I'm so much more hopeful this time around than any of the previous attempts I've made to write this damn novel. My intention is to blog along the way so you all can see the process but I'm not promising it will happen more than sporadically. I'll be writing a novel - fifty thousand words - in thirty days after all!

This glimpse into my life, which lately has been even more frantic than usual, has been brought to you by Folgers coffee - the only thing really keeping me going and awake most days. Ironically, the thing I should have been doing the most this week in preparation for Ragnar is resting and getting lots of good sleep and I'm quite certain I'll be exhausted when we hit the road in the morning. At least I can sleep in a moving car without getting sick...

So, is it just me or has life been on a fast track lately for anyone else?

Living in denial

2011-10-10T14:15:00.001-06:00

I hate it when people say I can't so something. Most of my teen years were spent proving that just because you told me I can't, I'll show you I can. It hasn't much changed in adulthood. There are merely less instances of it now that I no longer live with my parents who were the ones most often telling me I couldn't. But what happens when it isn't a person who tells me I can't?

After Ragnar (and it's intense training so I didn't die during it) were over in June, I went back to just running for the love of running. And it was great. Then a friend put together a team for the Ragnar in Las Vegas and invited me and Hubby to join. I had to go back to training hard AND acclimating to running in the heat, which I still hate but can actually do now. The only saving grace is that I have much less mileage and mostly downhill to run on this one so it didn't require as much training. Plus, I knew I'd done Ragnar once this year so no sweat doing another one, right? At that point all thoughts of doing anything else competitive for the year were abandoned and we proclaimed 2011 as the year of Ragnar. To try and do anything else might just make me hate running.

And then one of my favorite cousins-in-law convinced me to do another half marathon since her sister was making her do it. It's the same half I did last year so I knew exactly what to expect with the course. And, it is a week after Las Vegas Ragnar so I could do a half marathon training program - with a few tweaks - and train for both at the same time. No sweat!

Now we are less than three weeks from that half marathon race day. Next week is Ragnar. I need to taper off in preparation for Ragnar race day which means no super long run this weekend. Last week I mapped out a ten-mile route and limped through only six of them when my calf cramped up and I couldn't stretch it out. (Hydration, hydration! You cannot slack on it when you are a runner!) Yesterday my training plan called for a twelve-mile run but I hadn't yet done ten so I mapped out a little easier route and attempted the ten again instead. And I made it seven before giving into the temptation to skip the last little loop and turning toward home. At that point I was pushing myself to run and not walk because of the pain in my foot from my nemesis, plantar fasciitis.

I'm facing a sad reality that I may not be capable of running a half marathon no matter how much I want to or how much I've been training for it. I have yet to do multiple runs in the same day to really be ready for this Ragnar AND I can't push my poor foot further than eight miles without excruciating pain. My sister - who constantly amazes me with her powers of perception - told me yesterday that I should have been dealing with my "injury" for months instead of living in denial. Case in point - I can't even call my plantar fasciitis an injury without quotation marks.

So, it is with much consternation and reluctance that I declare - officially now - 2011 as the year of Ragnar and only Ragnar. If I can get my "injury" under control I'll try for another half next year just to prove I can do it. And I'll take small comfort from knowing I'm achieving something just as significant. By doing two Ragnars in the same year, I will earn two medals when we cross the finish line in Las Vegas next week. And that "Saints and Sinners" medal will be awesome!

Blog Challenge Day 30 - A motto or philosophy

2011-10-03T00:10:00.000-06:00

Here I go again - over thinking a silly blog challenge topic. So off the top of my head here's a bunch of mottoes I most often live by. If you want something you have to just go and get it. Life isn't going to give you something unless you've put in the hard work. You want to be a writer? You write every day and learn all you can about how to do it well and be successful. You want to be successful at something else, you find out what it takes to be that thing and you do that every day. You want a new job, you start acting like you already have it until someone notices you're already doing the work and chances are you'll get promoted. Never give up on your dreams, no matter what. And never focus on the negative. Focusing on the negative and the set backs along the way just bog you down from progressing forward toward whatever it is you want. Grasp life by the horns and hold on for the ride. As long as you are living every day and doing what makes you happy you are leading a fabulous life.

I hope you've enjoyed this crazy blog challenge... thanks for sticking with me through the whole thing. Now, I'm off to work on my novel. November approaches after all!

A year ago today

2011-10-01T14:24:00.000-06:00

I read a blog post this morning where the blogger looked back on what she had written a year ago. I got curious as to what I was doing a year ago so I took a look at my own posts. Here's what I found from October 2nd, 2010:

Here's today's hard reality of being a writer. Sometimes the projects you spend two years of blood, sweat and tears on don't end up published. Sometimes, they don't even end up finished. My first novel is currently going into this bucket. I made this decision subconsciously a couple of months ago but I wasn't really ready to let my baby go. I've spent two full years on it, still believe in the idea, still love my characters and eventually will return to it. But, because I love it so much I'm not willing to use it as my "first" and thus major learning experience. So, I'm shelving it... for now. I've spent the last couple of months editing and finding more work than I thought to get it up to par and ready to write the ending. I still know where it ends and how, just have to finish the re-write of what's already written so I can finish it up at some point. For now, I'm switching gears and preparing for this year's NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which starts November 1st. This time (my third) I'm going in armed with another year's worth of learning and knowledge about how to write better and will spend October coming up with an outline so I am better prepared. I am not sad, I'm being real. And if talking to other writers this year and learning from them has taught me nothing else, it is that it takes writing many completed books to finally figure out how the whole process works. Getting caught up and overly attached to one project over another just sets you up for disappointment. So, I've tried my hand at urban fantasy - this year I'm tackling a straight out fictional work. We'll see how I like it since I don't even know what "my" genre is yet.

So here we are today... Last year I was ready to shelf my novel and in fact tried to do just that. What I got was a failed attempt at last year's NaNoWriMo where I languished halfheartedly with a new idea and eventually went back to my original one - the darling I cannot kill. Then, thanks to my writer's group and my friend's editor, I discovered another layer of the toolbox of the writing craft that I didn't even know I didn't now about. Now I have a completed plot structure with completely different characters, a new twist, new motivations, the works. And I am going to finish the damn thing before I move on. I haven't spent this long world building and figuring out how my characters really tick just to throw it away or shelf it before it's done. Besides, I tried that and the characters rebelled.

I've done so much research and learning recently; I am a different writer than two months ago. On tap for this October is expanding on my plot structure by outlining basic scenes (and sequels) so I can hit the ground running. I'll finally be equipped to complete a first draft during this year's NaNoWriMo in November since this time I am even more prepared than in years past.

Do I have illusions that this will be the first novel I publish? It would be nice but I know it probably won't be. However, I will still learn by finishing it and then revising, and querying and all the other things that go into the job of becoming a published writer. And then I'll start another story and another and at some point I'll really know enough to get a publishing deal so I can then call myself an author instead of 'just' a writer. Here's to another year of chasing the dream with all the hard work it takes to make it happen... may I live through it and still enjoy it.

Blog Challenge Day 29 - Hopes, dreams and plans for the next year

2011-10-01T12:35:00.001-06:00

I'm not someone who sits down and makes goals and then breaks them down into short term steps to reach long term steps and then march through them and arrive at the end where life will then magically be perfect. I leave that up to people who buy day planners and subscribe to that kind of philosophy. Instead, I take every day as it comes and live it to the fullest. I have a vision of what the future looks like and every choice I make hopefully leads me closer toward it. But, if I somehow end up on a side track that turns out pretty cool, the route will shift. Case in point, when I was in high school I dreamed of being a pilot and for a while I was training for that and exploring the possibilities. And then I stumbled into a job that ended up being way more fun and I've built a career out of it. Same thing when it came to being a parent - TOTALLY stumbled into that one but then embraced it and never looked back. If I were a goal setter, I'd look like a failure on paper when looking back.

So, for the next year I hope life (and my hard work) takes me to a finished first draft of my novel, better job satisfaction working under my new supervisor, another Ragnar relay completed, another half marathon with a better time than the first one, continued success with my fitness insuring many more years of life ahead of me, lots of time spent with my kids making fun memories, and quality time with Hubby who I've now been with for eighteen years next month. Throw in time with my extended family and close friends and my year should be pretty full. And of course I'll share the ups and downs of all of it with you, my readers.

Blog Challenge Day 28 - A scar I have and it's story

2011-09-30T21:52:00.000-06:00

I am not accident prone and was hard pressed to find a scar at all - never mind a scar with a story. After all, how exciting can the little round scar be on my stomach, where they pulled my gall bladder out after it quit working? But then I remembered the very first scars I ever got.

When I was a kid I had chicken pox, just like every other kid on the planet before they developed a vaccine, only I was lucky enough to get them twice. The first time around I didn't have very many so apparently I didn't develop immunity. Lucky me. The second time around was brutal, or so I've heard. I was too young to remember more than what my parents told me about it but the stories are horrible. Apparently they couldn't stop me from scratching at the ones on my face and I was left with two perfectly round pox scars - one over each of my eyebrows.

When I got old enough to be sarcastic and sassy, I started telling people it was where my horns had been before I broke them off. Ironically, I think my mother in law might have believed me...

Blog Challenge Day 27 - A physical feature I love

2011-09-29T22:43:00.000-06:00

Four words: I. LOVE. MY. RACK.

I have already blogged about this here if you want the top ten things I love about my body - a list I still struggle with. I am happy to report that seven months after the original list I have one more thing to add: I love the definition in my arms. After months of waffling between hard core runner training for multiple Ragnar Relays and a total body program with weights setup by my trainer, I have defined triceps and biceps. Plus, I'm strong. I never thought that would be true. It is somewhat amazing even still...

I just realized I may have interpreted this all wrong. In which case, I love shoulders and hair which are the first things I notice when I see people of the opposite sex. There, now I have all my bases covered!

Blog Challenge Day 26 - A childhood memory

2011-09-28T21:18:00.002-06:00

My fondest memories of childhood all revolve around camping with extended family during the summers where I grew up in Utah. One particular year my siblings, cousins and I were all old enough and allowed to wander away from camp for hours at a time. We were in one of our favorite camp grounds in the Wasatch National Forest outside of Salt Lake and we discovered a trail leading up and away from the highest loop of the campground road in a steep section where there were no camp sites. I remember hiking up and up, for what seemed like hours, through dense forest areas of aspen and pines looking for what undiscovered treasures we just knew we were going to find. Around every corner there were new sights we'd never seen before, areas where we had to find the trail or make our own to an area that looked easier to travel. Fallen logs to climb over, statuesque trees rising into the overhead canopy where the sun barely filtered through, long dark sections of trail lined with tree trunks beckoning us to go deeper. The wind whispering through the leaves on the trees around us the whole time promising us adventure.. Our secret trail eventually ended at the top of a steep hill where it opened up into a meadow with a waterfall at the edge. I remember breaking through the tree line into the bright sun of that summer afternoon thinking we had discovered our own world. We toiled at the waterfall and rollicked in the meadow before finally, and reluctantly, heading back to camp. Looking back I'm amazed we remembered how to get back and I'm certain if our parents knew exactly where we had gone that day they would not be happy. The memory of that one stolen, perfect afternoon has never left me... Nor do I remember, even though I know we tried, ever finding that exact spot again.

I hope one day I'll allow my own girls enough freedom to explore on their own without worrying about the axe murderer or child molester who could be lurking, just waiting for their chance to pounce, so they too can make a memory like this of their own.

Blog Challenge Day 25 - A recipe

2011-09-27T18:22:00.000-06:00

I debated about what recipe to share pondering which would wow you all with my culinary skills. But bottom line, I just discovered the most AMAZING frosting recipe and had to share it. If you have the right frosting you can make anything better. Case in point, this frosting made even the gluten-free cake it adorned completely edible. I've been making frosting since I was a kid when my Mom taught me how to make chocolate cake from scratch. And, my Dad is a baker. But I had NEVER made butter cream frosting before last weekend at our neighbor's place. Something I will definitely be changing every chance I get now that I have this amazing recipe!

Butter Cream Frosting

1 cup salted butter, softened*

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

5 cups confectioner's sugar

1/4 cup milk

Blend it all together with a hand mixer and spread on everything - or whatever you have on hand that calls for frosting.

*The recipe we were following called for half butter, half shortening but we didn't have any shortening so we just used butter. So yummy without all the partially hydrogenated oils. Also, if you don't have salted butter, then just add a pinch of salt. Whatever you do, don't - and I repeat, DO NOT - use margarine. This is butter cream frosting and if you don't use butter it will taste like... well, shit. (No one should ever eat margarine in my opinion but that's not what this post is about...)

Enjoy! And remember don't be stingy when licking the bowl - it's just bad manners. Although trust me when I say you will be tempted!

Blog Challenge Day 24 - A movie no one would expect me to love

2011-09-26T20:08:00.001-06:00

I love movies and Hubby and I watch lots of them. I am not a particular fan of comedy - I much prefer chick flicks, action and thrillers - and I detest stupid comedy. I still don't see the appeal of Napoleon Dynamite, Dumb and Dumber was only vaguely funny the first time when you didn't know the jokes and don't even get me started on Super Bad... Little Fockers only made it all the way through the playback a few weeks ago because Hubby was sort of amused. So, I'm sure it will surprise everyone that I loved the movie "Bad Santa". I don't know what it was about that particular movie in that normally detested genre but I could watch it over and over and still laugh. Maybe it was Billy Bob who pulled off the drunk Santa so well. I know it wasn't a fluke because I saw it in the theater and several times since. If they could bottle that movie and sell it I'd buy it!

Blogger Challenge Day 23 - A way in which I want to be remembered

2011-09-25T14:45:00.000-06:00

This is easy. I want to be remembered as someone who never gave up and always did what she wanted. Someone who followed her dreams and made things happen for herself instead of waiting for life to deliver it up to her on a silver platter. I live out loud, with no filter, and live every moment as it comes. I don't do guilt - either inflicted upon me or imposed on others - and I'm usually impulsive. I hope everyone who really knows me thinks of me as someone they like to be around because I'm a breath of fresh air. I guess we'll see when I'm dead if I do a good job at that and can keep it up for another forty years at least.

Blog Challenge Day 22 - A website I like

2011-09-24T22:37:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite websites is mapmyrun.com. I love to be able to sit down at my computer, map out exactly where I want to run and see how far it is as well as the elevation change I have in store before I leave. Just last week I found a neighborhood street that went all the way through between two major streets that only currently connect with a dirt road. It made my run SO much better that day! I know I could use the site to keep track of my workouts and lots of other really cool stuff but right now just knowing before I go is invaluable. Right now I need to go and figure out how to squeeze eight miles out of the flattest parts of the surrounding area for tomorrow's run...

Blog Challenge Day 21 - Something I know I do differently than other people

2011-09-23T16:00:00.000-06:00

It might not have escaped you, if you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, that I have the mouth of a sailor. And I have young children. And I live in a very conservative little suburb of the notoriously "red" state of Utah where that kind of thing is generally frowned upon. I know I am different than most people I meet because I do not sensor my expletives even around my children. *gasp* It might further surprise you to know that Big Sister - who turns ten in a few weeks - has not repeated them. Well, except that one time when she was three and it was Daddy she was parroting at the time, thank god!

I was not the first of my siblings to have children and I had two adorable nephews years before I had kids of my own. It was very hard to take hearing my oldest nephew, who was about four or five at the time, come up to me - constantly - and hit me while telling me I was bad because I had said a bad word.

First of all, I don't really believe in good and bad as all-encompassing labels. Every action, every reaction, every situation always has multiple sides to it and each party involved is justified when deciding his/her own actions. Just because the majority of people in a community or a society have agreed to view a thing as unacceptable does not make it bad. (Getting off my soapbox now but this distinction will help illustrate what's coming...)

From that moment on, I vowed that I would never label expletives as "bad words" regardless of who says them or in what company they are said. Of course at the time I had no intention of ever pro-creating.

And then I got pregnant and people started talking about how I'd have to clean up my language and how everything would change and blah blah blah. And the rebellious bitch who I am at my very core said "oh yeah? Wanna bet?" And I never did. You're probably wondering how both statements can be true - that I never have filtered myself around my children AND that they have never developed the same habits. But both are true nonetheless.

You see, instead of labeling all my favorite colorful words as 'bad', they have been dubbed 'grown up words'. And you have to be a grown up to choose whether you say them or not. Ingenious, I know. This way, Hubby and I say whatever is our nature to say - never directed AT the kids, of course - and the kids don't have to feel conflicted inside knowing that Mom and Dad are "good" people but they say "bad" words. Plus, I've eliminated what I call the forbidden factor: that phenomenon when you tell a kid they can't do something and that just makes them want to go out and do it even more. Of course, it also means that the kids will know exactly how to effectively use all the grown up words by the time they can choose to say them. But, so be it.

Blog Challenge Day 20 - Foods I love and hate

2011-09-22T14:00:00.000-06:00

I love pasta - but I don't eat it very often. When I do, I choose red sauce over my preferred cream sauce because I can't afford ten hours on the treadmill to burn off that one meal. My Dad is of Italian descent and he lived there for a time when he was younger before he met my Mom. Which means the family recipe spaghetti sauce he passed down to me is authentic. I love to make a big pan of sauce - simmered for hours so the flavors come alive (my mouth is watering as we speak) and then eat spaghetti all week - lunch and dinner. Unfortunately, Hubby chose to spend his money in college predominantly on alcohol and thus ate a lot of ramen and spaghetti. Which means he doesn't ever want spaghetti. *sigh* Oh well, more for me!

I love eggs. I could eat eggs every meal of every day and never get sick of them. I love them scrambled with onions, omelets, over hard, hard boiled... just as long as the yolk is cooked and NOT runny and slimy. *ick* Eggs are probably my biggest source of protein since I don't really love meat besides fish and fowl.

I'm a sucker for baked goods... cake, cookies, brownies. OH.MY.GOD. I love brownies. Again, I don't indulge very often but there's a side of me who wishes I wasn't so responsible.

I also love chocolate - especially when mixed with peanut butter. Show me a candy bar with that combination and I'll show you a candy bar I've had a love affair with at some point in my life. Currently, the Lindor chocolates that are little bit size balls sold individually are my nemesis. They have them right by the cashier in the cafeteria at work and I break down and buy one almost every day.

I hate diet drinks. If it's got chemical sweetener in it, I can taste it a mile away and want to hurl once the liquid passes my lips. If I were dying of thirst - literally - and the only thing available was a diet soda, I might waste away before I gave in and drank one.

I hate coconut. Not sure if it's a taste or a texture thing - either way, I'm not a fan.

I hate walnuts and almonds. I used to think I didn't like ANY nuts until I tried cashews and found they are delightful. Peanuts don't count because they are really a legume and not a nut - and I like them, too. Walnuts, though. Bleck! And why do people insist on RUINING a good browning by putting walnuts in them?!? Seriously, people, enough already! And don't get me started with all the things slivered almonds show up in. UGH and they are so hard to pick off, too!

I hate bloody rare beef and I refuse to handle raw hamburger. If it doesn't come home from the store already nice and neatly formed into a patty before needing to be cooked, Hubby gets the honors. The slimy feel of raw meat just makes me queasy. And while I love a bite or two of a really great steak, if it's rare I can't even look at it. Hubby, on the other hand, is a carnivore and has no problems. Yuck!

Bog Challenge Day 19 - A talent

2011-09-21T17:00:00.000-06:00

I have a talent for spotting bullshit and calling it out. You may not think of this as a talent, but I have found it comes in quite handy and not many people possess it or embrace it. Does this talent get me into trouble? Sometimes. Will this talent potentially inhibit my ascension to an upper management position with my current company because I'm not willing to bum pat and kiss ass while I propagate the bullshit? Maybe. Would I trade this talent? Not in a million years. You have no idea how free it feels when you have not only spotted bullshit but have brought it out into the light of day so everyone must acknowledge it for what it is. There are never elephants in the room when I'm around. Do I come off as abrasive to people? Possibly. Do I care? Nope. One of my favorite quotes is (paraphrased) 'Always tell it like it is because those who care don't matter and those who matter won't care.'

Now, for those of you who were hoping for "normal" talents... I play piano, I play guitar, I draw (better than my Sister but not better than Hubby), I run, and I write fiction.

Blog Challenge Day 18 - Things I do everyday

2011-09-20T11:29:00.000-06:00

Here's another thing that you may find quirky about me! I'm struggling with this post since 'everyday' has such a specific meaning and if I take it literally, meaning every single day, I can't come up with much to include. So, since I am a literal kind of girl, I thought I'd break it down into weekdays and weekend days and give you two very different lists which still meets the criteria. (Someone needs to remind me this is merely a blog challenge designed to get me posting about things I don't normally post about so you all can get a glimpse of me and that there are no right or wrong answers here! Sheesh, I can be so uptight sometimes!) Then I started the lists and found they were kind of boring and that the things I really do every day would be harder to come up with but might be a much cooler list. So, here they are:

I wake up before eight AM - seriously?!? When I realized this is true I cried a little. I am a night owl who officially never lets herself sleep in anymore, even on the weekends. Even crazier, I usually wake up earlier on the weekends so I can go running. Case in point was just this past Sunday when Hubby and I consciously decided not to set any alarms. And I was still awake and up by 7:45. Insane...

I play Words with Friends on my phone. And, this is the ONLY game I play on my phone.

I think about running and whether I'll be able to fit a run into my crazy day. I successfully find time to run an average of three times a week and I cross train or lift weights three others - something I can do much easier in the time allotted for the fitness center at work. There is only one day a week that I do not work out but even that day I'm thinking about running and whether I really HAVE to rest.

I tuck my girls into their beds at night. Even Big Sister has not rejected this practice by deeming it not cool in her 'tween years. YET... Even if I'm not there when they go to bed and Daddy, grandma or the sitter does it, I still make a point to visit each of their rooms, make sure they are covered up and kiss them good night. Maybe they will look back on this as the one normal thing their crazy Mom did when they are talking to their therapists.

I check Facebook. Yes, everyday. Even when I swore it off and vowed never to waste another hour on it again. I limit it to once a day to make sure I haven't got anyone to wish happy birthday to and get the status updates of the people on the list of real friends who's crap I care about seeing.

I drink water. At least ninety ounces, sometimes more. Some days I hit that mark easily, sometimes it is a chore but every day I'm committed to proper hydration. It makes such a difference when I work out and I always know if I've been slacking because I feel it.

I think about my novel. I wish I could say that I write every day. I'm getting there but some days the things I count as "writing" are really just moments of day dreaming about the world I'm creating and wondering about what makes my characters tick. While in my mind that counts as working on my novel, it is not really writing new words every day.

I stay up too late. What can I say? There are never enough hours in a day to squeeze in everything I want to do. Most days I sacrifice sleep for doing more of the things I want than I would if I went to bed on time. Do I pay for this every morning? Yes. Yes, I do.

Which leads to the one thing that surprised even me since it did NOT make the list of things I do every single day: drink coffee. I realized that I don't drink coffee on the weekends consistently. While you can set your watch to my daily java consumption on work days, I just don't need it to get through the weekends when I'm not surrounded by bullshit. Maybe that's because I can always squeeze a nap in between football games on Saturday and Sundays now that it is that season again.

Blog Chllenge Day 17 - Things that annoy me

2011-09-19T16:30:00.000-06:00

Finally, a list I will be able to finish with zero trouble...

People who waste my time. As a busy woman I don't have time to waste. So the checker at Smith's who stopped my checkout process to sniff my dryer sheets and then launch a conversation about them before continuing was not my favorite person that day. People who walk slow in front of me, meandering, when I can't get around them. People who drive the speed limit limiting my ability to go as fast as I wish. (Yes, I am a speed demon, why do you ask?) People in the express checkout lane in front of me with more than 15 items. People who stop in the aisles at the grocery store to talk to someone else and block the entire aisle. Meetings where nothing gets accomplished. Yes, this category has many, many sub-categories of which I could go on and on.

Having to pick up after Big Sister. This one sucks and is more than likely my own fault. For eight years of her life I had enough time to baby her and go behind her whirlwind cleaning up after her since, after all, it was just her. Now that we have added Baby Sister, I don't have the time or the energy. It might kill me before she gets the hang of picking up after herself.

Baseball. I hate everything about the sport and the fact that they play it practically all year is SO annoying. And, no, this does not make me un-American. I am allowed to have this opinion.

People who don't pull their weight at work. This is a huge one - people who wander the cubicle halls and chat all day - either in adjoining cubicles within earshot or at intersections that I have to walk past. They annoy me even if I don't know who they are.

Books that have not been made into audio books that I want to read. Seriously, why isn't every single book just automatically made into an audio book for people like me?

Blog Challenge Day 16 - A song that makes me cry

2011-09-18T13:28:00.001-06:00

Remember the post about odd things where I confessed that I cry at lots of stuff? Well, I've never - I repeat - never cried about a song. Is that weird? I did, once, cry because a certain song came on at a particular moment so I'll tell you about that instead.

It was seven and a half miles into my second leg of Ragnar. I had already run six miles that morning and the leg had been rated Very Hard. I thought it was because it was extra long but it was because it was also a lot of rolling hills. It was excruciating and I didn't think I could go the distance. And then I crested a hill overlooking a beautiful valley and "our song" came on my iPod and I knew that Hubby was at the next exchange waiting to take the baton from me and cheering me on from there in spirit.

I'm not gonna lie - I cried like a baby for the next two miles.

Had it been another song would I still have cried? Perhaps eventually since that was the most painful two miles I've ever run, but since it was that particular song I didn't wait. Anyone who things that running is only a physical sport has never done any endurance running. It is one part physical, four parts mental. And yes, there's crying in running!

Blog Challenge Day 15 - Five funny fears

2011-09-17T16:12:00.000-06:00

How are fears ever funny? I guess I'll regale you with my silliest ones and hope that's adequate.

1. Spiders - seriously, even the daddy long-legs kind scare the be-jesus out of me.

2. Bees - they send me screaming and running. And the time one flew in the window while I was driving? I almost died because of that damn bee!

3. Ladders - I am not afraid of heights if looking down from above but I'm super squirmy and scared to climb higher than two rungs on a ladder.

4. Throwing things away - I have serious hoarder tendencies that I must vigilantly curtail. Every time I throw something away I'm afraid I will need it in the future regardless of how long it has been since I used it.

5. The I.R.S. - those bastards truly frighten me with their ability to completely screw up your life if you cross them. *shudder*

Blog Challenge Day 14 - A vacation I'd love to take

2011-09-16T15:00:00.000-06:00

This was an easy one... My dream vacation is really more of a lifestyle change. I would love to live abroad - in Italy. If it can't happen permanently, I'd settle for a trip long enough to immerse myself in the culture beyond the typical tourist areas.

About seven years ago we had friends who had moved to Germany that we went and stayed with for two weeks. Those two weeks changed my life. To see how fundamentally different life is in Europe has never left me. No large refrigerators to hold a week's worth of groceries because the bakery, the butcher and the grocer are all within walking distance and you buy what you will eat today and maybe tomorrow. Think of how much food you would no longer waste because the vegetables - from Costco - go bad in the crisper before you have a chance to use them! Recycling is not optional - you have a separate can for paper and one for real garbage - the stuff Americans send down the garbage disposal to be cleaned out of the water supply at the treatment plant. Most things at the grocery store come packaged in recyclable paper packaging and there is very little plastics. Those two things alone revolutionized our lives after that trip. We are recycling Nazi's and the only time I ever use the disposal is if people who don't know are over and put crap down the sink that I cannot get out.

My heritage on my Dad's side is Italian and I have always been drawn there - as if my blood somehow longs to return home again. I love the food, I love the wine... I even tried to teach myself the language in fifth grade as part of my gifted and talented program project. (Yes, I've always been an overachiever. Why do you ask?) Maybe someday I'll work at a job where I have enough vacation to take an extended trip - and lots and lots of disposable cash on hand! Or maybe when the kids are grown and I'm a full time writer I can do it from there instead. Either way, bring on Italy and soon...

Blog Challenge Day 13 - Five strange facts about me

2011-09-15T16:54:00.000-06:00

Here's another of those challenging posts that I was tempted to replace. How do I define strange and how do I pick just five? I looked it up on dictionary.com and here's the official definition:

unusual, extraordinary, or curious; odd

Hmm... I can work within those boundaries! Here are five extraordinary, odd or curious facts about me:

1. I am fearless and honestly never nervous in any situation - except when it comes to spiders and bees which send me screaming like the girl I am.

2. I am one tough cookie, a heartless bitch even at times - but I cry at almost every episode of Parenthood, practically every movie ever made including some action packed ones, and lots of books.

3. I still have the movie ticket stub from every movie I've ever seen in the theater for seventeen years with Hubby. I have no plan of what I will do with them, nor do I scrapbook.

4. I love chocolate and I love peanuts but I despise peanut M&M's and chocolate-covered peanuts.

5. I am a problem solver to my very core. Even Hubby sometimes has to stop me and tell me to just listen because he is merely venting and does not require me to solve the issue at hand. Many arguments could have been avoided in our early years if he had figured this out immediately.

Bonus fact: Doesn't matter what we are talking about, I can still eat. I chalk it up to my Mom being a nurse and always answering any question that came up over dinner, regardless of the topic. Like that one time when I was seventeen and asked what an IUD was in the middle of a restaurant...

Blog Challenge Day 12 - A song played at my wedding

2011-09-14T17:00:00.000-06:00

Nevermind the creepy 80's video that even I wish I had never seen...

This was "our" song back when Hubby and I tied the knot in 1994.

Blog Challenge Day 11 - A recent photo of me

2011-09-13T23:32:00.000-06:00

This is me...

at the beginning of the summer right after I got my feathers in my hair. Can you see them among all the crazy curls?

Blog Challenge Day 10 - Five things from my bucket list

2011-09-12T17:04:00.000-06:00

I've never made a physical list of things I want to do before I kick the bucket before. There's always things swimming around in the back of my head that I know I want to do but never something to mark them off of when completed. Here's the first five that come to mind:

1. See Italy - including the town my family name originates from

2. Write a book - publishing it would be nice, too but not necessary

3. Get my pilot's license (I got halfway done in college)

4. Compete in a triathlon - and finish

5. Learn a foreign language - preferably Italian

Putting these down in an actual list makes me feel like I need to check them off. You know what they say... someday will never come unless you are doing the things you want to do then now. Or maybe that's just me that says that? Now I'm not so sure but it's true nonetheless. What's on your bucket list?

Blog Challenge Day 9 - A photo I've taken

2011-09-11T12:59:00.000-06:00

This was the sunset of the best day we ever spent at the beach.

And this is still the coolest picture of animals with attitude I've ever captured... Can't you just see the mischievousness shining through in the one giraffe that's looking at the camera? I know it's a female and that she doesn't take crap from any of the others.

Blog Challenge Day 8 - Thank you letter to someone who has changed my life

2011-09-10T12:09:00.001-06:00

How do you pick just one person? One person to single out as the biggest influence of change? Is it your parents? Your spouse? Your children? Your mentor? The author of your favorite book? I can't pick just one - and have been struggling with this question for a week now knowing this post was lurking in the blog challenge. I was even tempted to replace it with something easier. But then what would be the point of the blog challenge if I got rid of all the challenging posts? Then I decided that I wasn't being graded on this and anyone I picked would give you an insight into me so I went with the first one that popped into my head a week ago.

Dear Big Sister,
             Thank you for surprising me with your conception at a time in my life when I was convinced I didn't want kids because my career was so important I couldn't be bothered with motherhood. I was wrong. Over the years I have suspended my selfishness in ways I didn't think possible without regret just to make you happy which in turn makes me a better person. Your logical mind challenges me daily to explain how life works which means I surely won't ever suffer from Alzheimer's. In trying to mold you into a well-rounded adult, I hope I don't scar you and that you don't need therapy as an adult.
                                                                    Love,
                                                                    Mom

Where were you on September 11, 2001?

2011-09-09T18:30:00.000-06:00

It's been ten years this weekend since the World Trade Center Towers were hit by planes and subsequently collapsed; the act which started the country down the road toward it's current state with two wars being waged, civil rights restricted in the name of National Security and overwhelming deficits where we are robbing Peter not even pretending to pay Paul. I worry for my children and wonder what their lives as American citizens will be like when they are my age and paying taxes. Luckily, Big Sister has already begun taking an interest in the election process and last week asked me when she gets to vote. At nine she has more interest than half of my siblings do.

But I digress... this is about my memories of where I was on that fateful day in September of 2001. A day like the one when Kennedy was shot since everyone old enough to have memory of it can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing when it happened.

At the time, I was eight months pregnant with our first child, Big Sister. Hubby and I were living in Tooele, Utah and both working in Salt Lake City which meant long commutes. Hubby would wake up super early and be on the road by five AM and I would wake a couple of hours later to the television turning on - still the coolest alarm clock I've ever had. I would lay in bed half conscious for the end of the local news until the Today show would come on at seven which was my queue to get up and get in the shower. Instead of hitting the snooze button I'd watch the first little segment of national news and then get up. That morning they were doing live coverage special reporting showing aerial shots of the World Trade Center towers, one of which had smoke coming out of it toward the top, and speculating on what could have happened. Initial reports were just coming in about something having hit it with everyone at that point still thinking it was some kind of horrible accident.

And then - live on television - I saw the second plane hit. And they played it over and over for the rest of the morning while the country's collective sat in shock at the realization this was being done on purpose. Unfathomable.

It's mostly a blur from there as reports were made about yet another plane hitting the Pentagon and eventually the plane that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania instead of it's intended target because the passengers fought back against the hijackers. I remember sitting there in bed rubbing my pregnant belly and wondering what kind of a world I was going to bring this new baby into and wishing Hubby was there with me instead of just a voice on the other end of the phone sounding just as shocked as I was feeling. He was watching on television at work after a coworker's wife had called and told them to tune in.

I vaguely remember getting ready for work and heading for the office, much later than usual. I kept wandering back and forth between the bathroom and the bedroom glued to the television. Before I left I saw both the towers collapse - still live. When I got to work, the little thirteen inch TV in the break room on top of the refrigerator, which I had only before seen used by the night janitorial crew, was turned on showing the news recapping over and over what people just tuning in might have missed. People would wander into the small cramped room, watch for a bit, then wander away. Everyone who had radios on their desks were listening to news reports. Streaming CNN was choking our network broadband but not much work was happening anyway so no one said anything. Everyone was talking about it constantly. Many were visibly shaken and emotional. Some never left that room all day.

The entire country was in chaos. One of my coworker friends had left that morning for a vacation in New York. I remember being frantic, worried if she was on one of the planes, and relieved when I heard from her. They had arrived hours earlier and were nowhere near ground zero, as it was later dubbed, but had tried to make their way closer to see what was happening. One of my closest friends at the time had just sent her husband off on a plane that morning for training in the Midwest. His plane was grounded when they closed the airspace stranding him in Las Vegas for days until the two of us drove down to get him one night after work. We returned just in time to change our clothes and go to work the next morning.

I was very lucky since neither Hubby or I had anyone close - or even an acquaintance - who were killed on that day. Although thousands were not that lucky. And that doesn't include the thousands who have been killed since that day in Iraq and Afghanistan. In reality, the country hasn't been the same since... And in many ways it is hard to believe it has been ten years.

Do you remember where you were that morning?

Blog Challenge Day 7 - Five things I couldn't possibly live without

2011-09-09T15:26:00.000-06:00

Since it says 'things' and not 'people' I'm going to answer literally instead of going to the safe and predictable places like family or friends... which goes without saying anyway.

1. A smart phone. I never really got over my addiction to the Blackberry - which was my gateway drug. Currently I have a Droid and just upgraded my work phone to an iPhone. And I carry them both. I feel naked if I don't have my phone ON. MY. PERSON. I'm not a lady who keeps it in her purse. I don't wear pants without pockets. I never ever turn it off. Seriously, I could not live without my phone.

2. Running shoes. Again, an addiction. What does this say about me, I wonder? I used to be a shoe whore and was a sucker for a cute pair of shoes - especially heels and strappy sandals. Now I love running so much that I have spent my allotted shoe money for the last three years on running shoes rather than shoe shoes. I do not currently own any sensible black shoes for work and my brown shoes - the last pair I haven't worn out - are ones I bought more than three years ago. Once my running shoes wear out and I can't wear them for running, they transition into my everyday shoes. And if the day came that I couldn't afford to buy a new pair FOR running, I would spend food money to buy them and starve instead.

3. Cottage cheese. I eat cottage cheese every single day. It is one of the best forms of non-meat protein and requires no work to prepare. I love it plain. I love it with berries mixed in. I could eat it for every meal. If they quit making it, I would die.

4. Hair color. I suffer from a pretty shitty gene pool in the hair department. I got my first gray hair at fifteen and have been coloring ever since. If I didn't have hair color, instead of looking like Little Sister's mom, I'd look like her grandmother. No joke. No exaggeration. I'm so busy these days that I don't get time to color it often enough and I KNOW it's time for color when I have a stripe of silver starring me down from the mirror yelling "color me quick!". If I had to endure having THAT hair color from roots to ends, I would die.

5. Books. Bet you saw this one coming, huh? I don't remember a time when I didn't love to read. I came home the first day of Kindergarten so mad because "they didn't teach us to read today" like my Mom had said would happen. I always have a book with me - either tucked into my bag or loaded up on my iPod or my reader app on my smart phone or all three. If other authors stopped writing great stories for me to read I would die. Probably why I want to be one of those authors and give back to other readers like me.

So, what on this list surprised you the most?

Blog Challenge Day 6 - A moment I wish I could relive

2011-09-08T17:22:00.000-06:00

Time to get a little heavy... fair warning. As I said, this list has a bunch of things I don't normally blog about which is, I guess, the entire point. I have two specific moments that, at their essence, are really the same moment with two different people and are the only two real regrets that I have in my life. I wish I could go back and say goodbye to my maternal grandpa and my fraternal grandma differently before they both died.

One thing I don't do well is death - I always find a reason to skip a funeral, when I go to viewings I skip even going near the body. It isn't necessarily that it creeps me out but just that I don't get the whole ritual. When I die, I don't even want to be embalmed. Donate all my organs, put me in a cardboard box, let my kids say goodbye one last time then burn me to ashes and have a gathering to celebrate my life. Once I'm gone there's nothing left in the shell of my body so why go to all the trouble with preserving it. And don't even get me started about the whole idea of cemeteries with all those bodies rotting away sealed up tight where they can't even nourish the trees and other life around them.

My grandpa died four years ago. He was one of the most important men to ever come into my life. I was there with the rest of my family - brothers, sister, parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, literally everyone - when he died. I think he held out long enough for us all to get there after the dreaded middle-of-the-night phone call before he took his last breath. We all took turns going to the bed and saying our last goodbye and while I didn't skip it, I didn't do everything I wish I had. I held his hand and told him I loved him but I hesitated and for some reason held back throwing myself on him for one last hug and kissing him like I really wanted to do. So, I'd like to relive that moment and this time not give a shit how it looked or if it messed up some machine hooked to him and give him that hug.

I should have learned my lesson about this particular moment by the time my dear grandma on my Dad's side passed away a year later. But, instead I listened to my Dad - who knows how I feel about the whole subject of death. He told me the last time he had seen her she hadn't even known who he was and that it wouldn't matter if I went to see her one last time or not. So I didn't. At the time I rationalized that it would break my heart to have her not recognize me and to see her in such a diminished capacity preferring instead to remember the small, sweet lady who was always such a gracious and giving woman. Even now I wonder how different it would have been had I gone to say goodbye. Maybe she would have known me and taken some small comfort in my presence. I'll never know and I wish I had gone.

Blog Challenge Day 5 - The meaning behind my blog's name

2011-09-07T16:35:00.000-06:00

For a long time I've been fascinated with all things occult. I love astrology, read Tarot cards, am fascinated with palm readers, have been to a psychic, and always gravitate to movies and books with these things and characters who do them. One of the things I've always said is "I wish I had a crystal ball!" - usually when I'm trying to make tough choices where there are no easy answers and could mean significant change in my life. When I got the blogging bug - which seems like a lifetime ago - I thought it would be cool to theme it around being a glimpse into my life from the outside - like a crystal ball - and also a reflection of my own life from the inside. Over the years it has been just that - a way for me to project outward what I'm doing, feeling, thinking and also for me to reflect on what makes me who I am. I still have days when I really wish I had that magical crystal ball to make my life easier, but in the meantime I have this!

My blog began before I consciously decided I wanted to be a writer who would also have a blog or thought there might be actual people who would read it regularly. Many times I have thought "Terra, could you have made the blog url any longer and why doesn't it match the name of the blog?" and have thought long and hard about changing it. But if I change the url to match the name of the blog would I lose people who stop by occasionally or would it be easier for everyone to find - never mind the fact it's printed on my business cards? Or would I fall into the trap of being one of "those" bloggers who are infamous for changing their blog name or deleting them? I've found several in this category over the years and am sad when the blog is one day inexplicably gone. So of course I don't want to do that to any of MY readers.

I'd love to know... How did you find me in the blog-isphere and what do you think of the name or the url - love it, hate it or never thought about it?

Blog Challenge Day 4 - A favorite quote

2011-09-06T15:59:00.000-06:00

My favorite quote of all time is the last stanza of this Victorian poem by William Ernest Henley.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I love the power this poem conveys - especially the last two lines. No matter what happens, I know that I am in control of my fate and that I am the one steering the ship of my life. It helps me avoid falling into the trap of feeling victimized or being made to feel guilty by others. I don't remember when I first heard this poem - I think it was an old Army veteran I worked with about twenty years ago - but I don't remember when I haven't had those last few lines always running through my subconscious.

Blog Challenge Day 3 - A favorite book

2011-09-05T17:45:00.000-06:00

Having to pick just one favorite book when I read many a month is brutal. Since I frequently review books here on the blog, I think you probably know by well what kinds of books I read. But, pick one I will. My favorite book - based on how much it impacted my life - is "In Defense of Food" by Michael Pollan. This was the second I read from Pollan and together they literally changed my life. Does it surprise you that my pick for this category comes in the form of non-fiction?

Blog Challenge Day 2 - A favorite movie

2011-09-04T17:35:00.000-06:00

How do I pick just one? I love movies. I love movies so much I didn't once bitch about Netflix raising their prices and charging separately for streaming and by-mail options AND have continued paying for both. Instead of nailing down just one movie that I love, which would be like picking my favorite child, I'll pick my favorite genre which is science fiction. I loved Armageddon, I loved all the Star Wars, I loved all the Star Treks... Go figure, a technology gadget geek loves science fiction. So much for learning something new about me, huh?

Celebrating with a blog challenge - Day 1

2011-09-03T16:31:00.000-06:00

I don't know what specific date I started blogging - sometime in 2008 I think. But, the new blogger layout now shows me the number of posts I've done and this is number two hundred. That number seems significant so I thought I'd do something to celebrate. I see lots of people doing these 30-Day Blog Challenges and I found one that is designed to let readers get to know the blogger a little better. (As if you don't know me pretty well already after two hundred posts of hold-nothing-back, right?) One of the lists has things on it that I do not normally blog about so I thought what the hell. The next month you can all get to know me just a little better and I'd love it if you commented and told me these same facts about you!

Day 1: A favorite song

This is a hard one to nail down. I am a child of the 80's and love pretty much any hair band. I played guitar in a garage band back in college and we did some extremely heavy stuff. At the time, my favorite was Metallica. I was also classically trained on the piano and LOVE classical music, especially Tchiakovsky. But, right now my favorite song is "So What" by Pink. It has such a great beat and great lyrics and Pink is one of my favorite artists because she knows how to tell it like it is. I also love pretty much anything by Katy Perry and have been known to sing along to some of the teeny boppers that Big Sister listens to - like Selena Gomez lately. I love music in general and will listen to anything - as long as it isn't country which makes me violent and irritable or show tunes which I never got into. The heavier the better if I'm trying to concentrate and the lyrics have to hit home to make it a favorite.

Stay tuned for the next thirty days for other random facts with a window into who I am. Hope you enjoy!

The Help

2011-08-31T22:59:00.000-06:00

July's pick for book club was "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. It was full of rich characters - three of whom we see the story unfold through and around which in the beginning was hard to follow until I could figure out who was who. This book was, for me, a fresh perspective on civil rights painted by those who lived in Mississippi in the 1960's without being tragic or preachy. I simply loved this book. Once in a while a book comes along and actually lives up to the hype it is given - this is one of those times! Highly recommended...

Layers of the toolbox

2011-08-30T22:28:00.000-06:00

I love roller coasters! Unfortunately, Hubby has had too many concussions in his risk-taking and active life which has left me with no one to enjoy them with for too many years to count. Hopefully one of my girls will take up the position he vacated and that it won't be Baby Sister because I sure as hell can't wait that long! The last couple of weeks have been a roller-coaster of a different kind for me and here I am to regale you with the telling!

Remember the last time I checked in I was stuck on the outline for my novel. I gave a synopsis to a couple of people who came up with some very interesting "what would happen if they did this" kinds of brainstorming ideas. It got me out of the block I'd been in and had me excited again, although for directions I wasn't quite sure would work with what I had originally envisioned for my story. (Thank you, by the way... you know who you are!)

Then, I submitted my *incomplete* outline to my writer's group as my submission for our upcoming meeting. This action itself was something I would not normally do but if you want different results than you have had, you have to take different actions. Instead of wallowing and feeling inadequate because I hadn't finished my outline in time to submit it for critique (the deadline I'd given myself), I gave them what I had up to that point, admitted I was stuck and asked for a high-level brainstorming (instead of planned outline critique) when we met.

As is the case with every meeting of my amazing writing group, I learned something new that night. And that something new is: (drum roll) I don't know enough about story structure to outline properly. Just when you think you have trained enough and mastered all the tools in the writing toolbox (point of view, passive vs active voice, dialogue, showing vs. telling, etc.) someone comes along and shows you there's an entirely new layer deeper in the toolbox that you still need to master.

I'll admit I walked away from that meeting feeling more than a little dejected. Here I had put in all this hard work and I was READY for race day... only to find out that the race is not a mere 5K or even a half marathon; this sucker is more like a full marathon or an ultra. And I haven't trained enough yet! *sigh* After a couple of days of thinking things like "maybe I should just start a different, easier story" or "maybe I don't have the energy or the time to write a novel after all" and other such bullshit, I slapped myself and laced up my running shoes for more proverbial training runs. The past week my writing hours have consisted of listening to podcasts and reading articles on all things writing, googling youtube videos on different types of story structure, and brainstorming ways of simplifying my story idea back down to an urban fantasy instead of the behemoth epic it had morphed into - in addition to trying to figure out how it ends! My fellow writers are amazing women and in the past week have given me encouragement, talked me off the ledge, sent me suggestions about which podcast and other resources to check out, and reminded me that regardless of anything else I know this story and I'm invested in it - all the things that make them great writing buddies as well as friends. (Thanks guys - you already know you'll be in the acknowledgments of my first published novel but I didn't want you to have to wait that long!)

I know all the training and hard work will pay off ... I just hope there isn't yet another hidden layer below this one in the writing toolbox that I have yet to discover because quite honestly that just might kill me! And, I keep reminding myself, it's better to learn it now than go through rejection after rejection because I finished a novel before I mastered the art of novel writing. My advice for the week: KEEP WRITING - no matter what!

Blockage

2011-08-15T23:45:00.001-06:00

Here I sit... That damn cursor blinking at me... and I can't figure out where the story goes from here. So I thought 'what the hell, maybe blogging about it will help!' Of course it is also cheating because that means I'm using today's allotted writing time for actual writing. I've been kicking ass and taking names on the outline - who knew I'd be so good at it since I thought I was a discovery writer! I've consistently been writing as planned - mostly. Nothing goes one hundred percent right all the time. And now I'm sitting here with a story that is three quarters roughed out. I've got new characters I didn't know existed, new motivations I didn't know they had, lots of twists and tension... and now... yeah... I don't know exactly how they all get to the ending I see in my head yet. Of course that ending has only been summed up in a single sentence up until now which is precisely the problem. (And no, the sentence is NOT "They lived happily ever after" either, thanks for asking!)

I keep exploring possibilities but it all feels too cliche or anti-climactic. I need another twist and I can't see where it will come from yet. Nothing I've come up with has me inspired enough to even write down. And no, blogging about it hasn't helped yet either.

Anyone out there in Internet land want to share their favorite twists on story endings so I can get my creative juices kicked into gear over here? Please? If not, I'll be forced to show up with no first chapter and no completed outline at writer's group next week. And that will suck...

Embarking on the crazy journey... or the one about Terra project planning her life

2011-08-05T14:55:00.000-06:00

Remember a couple of posts ago when I was talking about standing at the edge and knowing that leaping into this I'm-finally-going-to-write-that-novel-I've-been-working-on-for-years pool was going to be super shitty and hard and basically freaking out? Well, I pulled myself together and decided that all I needed was a plan. I tackled this gigantic endeavor as I would any project of its scope and magnitude: I broke it down to requirements and measurable deliverables and defined how to utilize my resources. (Told you I was a total data girl and project manager extraordinaire!)

Here are my requirements:
1) I'd made a commitment to read the entire manuscript we will be critiquing at our August writer's group meeting. Since this is book two of the trilogy of which the first book already has a publishing deal, I know I can't slack on that commitment and call myself one of the members of my kick-ass writing group. Since typically my reading happens via iPod, having to sit down and actually READ a book represents significant time.

2) I am still training for whatever I decide to do in the fall - I keep going back and forth about whether I'm going to do another half marathon or not - so I can't slack off on my running or sacrifice training time for writing time. I just got new shoes. My last pair were new in late February and I'd already run three hundred miles on them. Three hundred miles every five months makes this not a small deliverable.

3) I have to find time to write in the non-magical world where there are only 24 hours in a day, of which I still have to work eight at my "real" job and spend at least a few hours with my family being a wife and mother. I have to write every day and be consistent about it or nothing is ever going to be different than now where I talk about writing as if it will always be in the future and never happening in the present. The Universe sent me LOTS of pointers on this one in the form of podcast topics and daily writing tips telling me to JUST. DO. IT. Kind of like shouting it at me with a "FOR GOD'S SAKE" added for good measure.

So here's the general plan that I came up with...

First, I gave myself a super tight deadline of finishing the critique for my writer's group by the end of July. I was only two days late. Check that one off the list!

Second, starting August 1, I will write everyday and act as if THIS month is NaNoWriMo month and just keep at it until the first draft is done.

And finally, stick with the same running schedule I used while training for Ragnar all year since I know for the most part it works for my life.

How does that actually look with my schedule? Monday through Friday workdays I either run at work (short-run day) or at the gym (the night Big Sister does NOT have dance) or in the morning (mid-week longer run). When I get home from work, I'm a Mom/Taxi until the kids are tucked into bed at a reasonable time. No more letting Big Sister stay up as late as she wants. Since school starts in three weeks and we need to get back to a scheduled bedtime this works anyway. The hours between 9:30 bedtime and when my natural clock winds down for the day, somewhere between 11:30 and midnight, will be devoted to writing - with the exception of Friday nights which I protect and preserve for quality time with Hubby. Weekends are devoted to at least one long run - typically about ten miles Sunday morning - and getting on top of mundane things like laundry and dishes and perhaps squeezing in a touch of a social life - aka, the things I have been doing between the kid's bed time and mine until now. Since weekends are way more flexible I will write a minimum of three hours a weekend somewhere between the two days. My house may be less clean for a while, I'll definitely have to drink more coffee than normal and my DVR will fill up with all the things I won't be watching regularly; but all of these things are worth what I'll be gaining in return - being a novelist.

I'm off to an amazing start - only two days late due to the critique deadline that I blew but who's counting, right? The first night I spent two hours rekindling the story in my mind and working out any bugs in the outline I've got so far. I figured out that the story should actually start with what's in Chapter Three so I had to work the back story info-dump I had planned for chapters one and two in elsewhere. And, I determined which of the three main characters point of view each chapter/section would be written from. In the wee hours before dawn when I was awakened over and over again for a pretty heinous on-call shift, an element of the story kept churning through my head and I came up with the missing piece of my world's creation myth - got to love bonus non-planned creative time, right? Don't forget, I have RELIGION of all things in my book. Insane, I know. Even more so when you realize that I have to basically come up with the equivalent of an entirely new system of mythology to explain what and why things happen and why people let them happen without question. Last night, I worked another three chapters into the outline... and busted out a blog post which actually by definition counts as part of my writing.

It feels amazing making progress on the novel and it's crazy how I kept thinking it was going to be so hard to find all this time and stick to such a rigid and unbending schedule so I wouldn't have to sacrifice anything in my life. What I didn't factor in is that I enjoy writing so much that the time just flies by and all the shit about how tight my schedule is doesn't even matter. Here's to starting strong and continuing the trend all the way to the end! I am a novelist by definition since I am writing a novel... regardless of whether I ever get said novel published or not.

My writing lesson for the week

2011-07-27T00:24:00.000-06:00

Another lesson learned this week on the trail of writing a good book: make sure your facts check out so your story is believable to everyone who reads it. As with most things in life, this can be accomplished one of two ways: either knowing something or knowing someone.

One of my writing buddies is in the alpha-reader stage of one of her manuscripts. About a year ago she asked me some questions about small airplanes because I used to be a pilot, sort of. I gave her some general details and forgot about it - generalities like how crashing a single engine would be much easier that a multi-engine, etc. And then I read "Chapter Six" last weekend and realized I should have given her way different and more specific details because what she had taken from our discussion had been used to create a very tension filled and exciting plane crash - that had little resemblance to how it would really happen. The best thing about it is that when I text her and said "we need to talk about Chapter six" she knew exactly which part I was referring to and had been waiting patiently for me to get to that part so I could tell her exactly how to fix it. See, she knew I would know and thus didn't waste a lot of time researching. Smart girl, that one!

I had a ton of fun stewing about how it could be fixed without changing anything fundamental about how the characters got to that point or how they walked away from it (aka, keeping the storyline intact) and trying to remember my pilot training that I never actually finished twenty years ago. Luckily I have a buddy who IS a pilot who helped fill in the details. What we came up with resulted in some very minor changes but that will make a huge difference in a reader's perception - because now it will be authentic.

I learned several lessons from this small encounter.

1) any writer needs a trusted few who they can count on for alpha-reading. That group of people who can read as writers not readers; those who can overlook the grammar and punctuation errors that still exist in the early stages of revision and just point out the plot holes and elements of the story and characters that could be tweaked for a better overall story. The punctuation and grammar come later after revising to death and then "readers" (beta at that point) can have a crack at it.

2) details must be authentic regardless of the genre you're writing in. You never know when a reader will pick up your book and have a basic understanding of the part of your story you've written happening to and around your characters. Even though it is a plane crash in a sci-fi book, it is still a plane crash and it must look realistic or you lose the trust of your readers. I still remember when I read a book by a very well-renowned best-selling author (*cough* Richard Sparks) and found he hadn't bothered to fact check that the ruins around a certain city in Mexico are Mayan, not Inca. I will probably never pick up another book by him almost solely for that reason.

What this means for me and writers everywhere is that if you aren't lucky enough to know someone who knows something about what you're writing, you better do at least basic research. Your book can be made or broken in the details and if you haven't done your homework, some reader some where out there will know that you slacked off - even if you get it past your publisher - and will tell their friends how much you suck. And hopefully you have a well-rounded writer's group or other such potential alpha readers to make the revision process less painful. Thank god for MY writer's group who are chomping at the bit for me to get to alpha-reader mode already!

Is there really a perfect job?

2011-07-20T20:08:00.000-06:00

Lately this question has plagued me. I've always worked since I was sixteen and I have a super, over-achiever work ethic. Even through two babies and their resulting maternity leaves I have never wished to be a stay-at-home mom. But how do you find the perfect job? Mine is nothing I have said "I want to do {that} when I grow up". Because have you ever heard a child say 'Mommy, when I grow up I want to sit on my ass in a row of cubicles, surrounded by other worker bees who are a constant form of irritation in one way or another, basically typing all day - for forty hours a week'? No, me neither.

Which is why I'm writing a book. So I can be my own boss and make my own hours and be the one who financially benefits as a direct result of all my hard work and labor and have a glorious life away from this crappy nine-to-five world. Only now I'm seeing, through my fellow writing buddy and her publishing deal, exactly how much work will be required once I finish and sell a manuscript. None of it sounds too fun or exciting - it sounds like, well, work. And that's only IF I finish and sell a manuscript, the hardest part of the whole process being breaking into the publishing world. (My first novel I've been at for so many years it's almost embarrassing. Yes, yes, I know I've learned the craft of writing in that time so it isn't like wasted time. But still, we are talking years!) Plus I'm not naive enough to think that selling one book to a publisher will mean I can pack up everything and buy a remote cabin in the Montana mountains where I can go and live and write in bliss. It will remain work, and almost harder work once I've "made it". Then comes deadlines for new books and book tours and all the other stuff that comes with being a successful author. I'll just be trading one kind of hard work for another and not really setting myself free.

So how do you pick the right job that will take you through to retirement with your wits still about you and not so burned out that you can still enjoy life? And what part of your life right now, in the present, do you have to sacrifice to get to that pie-in-the-sky end result? Unfortunately I don't have any of these answers. Could it be that the uncertainty awaiting me in the life of an author is the real reason I haven't done much on my manuscript the last month? Forget the two vacations and running Ragnar I've been up to lately, what if THIS is the real reason I'm dragging my feet and filling my evenings with things that are not writing? I mean, the outline is basically done - even detailed for most of the book - with the ending all summed up with room for my characters to form their own path to the finish as they flesh themselves out. The perfect balance for me, the discovery writer who needs a little direction to keep her characters reined in.

Bottom line, I'm not going to know if the life of an author is right for me until I become one who has finished a manuscript and done all the hard work - just like I didn't know what I really wanted to do when I grew up before spending fifteen years getting to where I am in the working world I am currently in. Being a writer is the one thing I'm doing now that I remember saying I wanted to do way back then. That's got to mean something, right?

I guess the real reason I'm dragging my feet with getting started - again - on the novel, now that I've turned my reflection glass all the way to internal and taken a good hard look, is that I know it's going to be like having two jobs. Which means it will be hard and there won't be much sleep involved. Picture it: work forty hours a week away from home so we can keep paying the bills; feel like a single mom at night with hubby working a ton of late hours while juggling Big Sister's dance schedule and spending enough quality time with Baby Sister that she likes me more than the nanny; be on-call for the day job for twenty additional hours of nights and weekends; write every day for several hours to keep the momentum up and finish the first draft this year; oh, and don't forget to run and stay in shape so I stay sane through it all. I guess my love affair with coffee will be good and the one with my bed not so for a while. In a way it feels like the dread and anticipation I feel when approaching a race day. You wonder if you've trained enough yet are excited to see how it all goes. I need to put on my big girl panties and suck it up if I expect to get to the end, no matter what race I'm entered in.

If I'm being honest, and when have you known me not to be, I feel like I'm standing at the edge of my future afraid to take the next step in case I fail. Remember the scene in the Indiana Jones movie when they are after the Holy Grail and Indy has to take a leap of faith not knowing what will happen? That's how I feel - standing at the edge of a cliff where I have to stop talking about how amazing it's going to be when I get to the other side and find what I really want in life waiting for me. (In other words, start writing this novel again and this time finish the damn thing!) I may not know exactly how it will look but until I get there to see it I'll never know! So here's to officially embarking on the journey from writer to author, may it not kill me...

Let's talk food

2011-07-11T11:59:00.000-06:00

It's been twelve weeks - and then some - since I started working with my nutritionist and it is still the best money I've ever spent on my path to wellness... well, if you don't count my running shoes! I learned so much that I thought I'd share some of the journey.

It started off with a test to see what my resting metabolic rate was so I would know exactly what kinds of calorie requirements I personally need. Sitting in a chair, doing absolutely nothing, my body burns fifteen hundred calories a day. Wow, so that means the twelve hundred calories I'd been thinking was a target - IF I counted calories - was way too low. Plus, the frightening dose of reality was that according to the metabolic test I was super close to being pre-diabetic. My body burned more sugar than fat even when I was at rest. This was not good, and the main reason I decided the money would be worth it to educate myself. I'd been a hard core runner for over a year and to see these numbers proved I was missing a very important piece of the puzzle. (I guess my trainer I wanted to blame was right after all...)

The twelve week program started with my nutritionist extraordinaire interviewing me about how I eat and giving me a plan of how healthy people eat which, turns out, were completely opposite. I wasn't eating enough of anything and I wasn't eating them in the proper ratios. Remember my fifteen hundred calorie metabolism at rest? I was only eating about eight hundred a day when we broke down what I ate into calories. No wonder I wasn't losing weight! I wasn't even meeting my minimum caloric requirements for being sedentary and then was running five days a week and lifting weights three times a week. All these factors combined to my poor body being in starvation mode and holding on dearly to every last fat cell I had left thinking we'd never have enough ever again. I needed tons more protein - which luckily I can get from things OTHER than meat since I'm not a huge fan. I needed less dairy, okay, no dairy; and no sugar. I needed to eat different fruits that weren't so high in natural sugars - bye bye bananas and pineapple. And I needed way more vegetables, which I already knew going into it. Three weeks later I had dropped five pounds and felt better than I ever have in memory. I had so much more energy and my running was better and I was sleeping better and my skin looked better. Everything was better.

After the first visit where we laid out the eating plan, the meetings with him were more like therapy. Not that I've ever had therapy before but it was like how it looks in the movies. We talked about how I was feeling, about what I was eating, if I was missing anything that I couldn't eat and all the emotions around food that most people have. About halfway through the whole program the aha moment came where I realized this wasn't some diet I was on with an ending date - like HCG - but how I would eat the rest of my life. If I stuck to "the plan" ninety percent of the time, I could lose weight. If I stuck to it eighty percent of the time I could maintain. It didn't mean I could never have a glass of milk or a sugary treat, just that I needed to make conscious choices about when I ate them and know going into it rather than just eating and giving no thought to what I would feel like afterward.

The most memorable conversation was when he told me I was pretty much over all the emotional ties I had with food and that I could now add in two "free" meals a week instead of sticking rigidly to the plan, but within reason. He asked me what my favorite meal was - where I would go and what I would eat if I didn't care about nutrition. That's easy: I'd go to Olive Garden and have a pasta dish with cream sauce, bread sticks dipped in Alfredo sauce, wine, and of course dessert. And then he told me it would take ten HOURS - TEN - running on a treadmill to burn off the calories in that one meal. Ouch!

It is amazing the transformation my relationship with food has taken since that conversation. Yes, I still go out but I make sure I have a dish that has mostly protein and I usually skip the bread basket before dinner and the dessert after unless someone will share so I only eat a few bites. I eat a lot of balanced meal replacement shakes and tons of fresh veggies. We eat mostly whole foods rather than processed; and veggies, not starch, are the main components. I don't miss milk or cheese - which was a total surprise since I LOVED milk. I eat a ton of eggs because they are my preferred choice of protein. And, when my daughter asked me the other day what my favorite food was, I couldn't answer her. Food isn't that important to me anymore to even have a favorite. It is a means to an end. A way to fuel my body for the activities I want to do. Nothing more. This from an Italian girl who was obsessed with food a mere year ago.

It amazes me the amount of money that is spent in marketing and creating foods that have been processed so much that it isn't really food anymore. By leaving all of that behind I've gone back to food the way nature intended and evolved to nourish the human body. The difference is amazing in both how I feel and how I will look when I'm finally rid of the last stubborn fat cells my body no longer needs to hold onto instinctively because I am properly fueling it for everything I am doing.

After three months of eating well and not dieting - which means not sticking to the eating plan formula more than about 75% of the time, I have maintained my weight and still lost a few inches from toning and building muscle mass. I was so thrilled and am now committed to my own personal twelve week challenge to stick with the plan 90% of the time. I know I already look amazingly better than I did when I started this whole fitness fad back in 2008 but until I am completely happy with how I look in a swimsuit the journey cannot be considered finished. Of course, do you actually know a single woman who can't find something to scrutinize about her body in a swimsuit? Could be a long time before I'm completely satisfied but at least I'll be happy and healthy getting there!

Ragnar Wasatch Back 2011 - Part 3

2011-06-28T18:15:00.000-06:00

It took us more than an hour to drive directly to the major exchange at the Oakley Rodeo Grounds where we would take the baton from Van Two in the morning. It was a cluster trying to get out of the East Canyon State Park because they were routing people down and around to wind through the campgrounds instead of letting us get directly back up onto the road. By the time we got there, we were so exhausted and ready for sleep. We parked in the far corner of the parking lot in front of what looked like a grassy area we could lay down and sleep on. We hiked across the vast parking lot to stand in line for the Honey Buckets... again... and nearly froze to death. It was one AM at this point and we had been up for nearly twenty four hours. And I'd run fifteen miles!

When I got back to the car, shivering, I told Hubby there was no way I was going to sleep outside in our light sleeping bags we had packed. Maybe if we had sub-zero rated bags it would be a different story. So, we climbed back into the car and tried to sleep. Steven, who is over six feet tall, headed out with his fleece blanket to attempt to sleep lying down on the ground instead of folded into a seat. Sean headed to the free hot chocolate tent where we assumed he was hooking up with chicks, being the available bachelor of the group, and we didn't see him for several hours. The rest of us tried to curl up with pillows jammed between the window and side of our necks so we could ward off the crick in the neck you get from sleeping with your head on your own shoulder. Well, everyone except my sister who couldn't find her pillow. Being the awesome wife I am and knowing how hard this situation was going to be on Hubby who has a ruptured disk in his lower back, I let him recline the seat in front of me so he could kind of stretch out. Which meant I was crammed in between his seat and mine with little room to maneuver...

A while later, Sean crawled back into the car who, it turns out, had not been picking up chicks but had gone out to the grass and laid down to sleep - without even a blanket. No wonder that didn't last long! So now we have my sister in the driver seat, minus her pillow; Hubby in the passenger seat, reclined; me crammed behind Hubby in a seat that didn't recline, Sean in the other non-reclining seat behind my sister, and Jose and Jaclyn sharing the back seat feet-pointed-toward-each-other style. A couple of tossing and turning hours later at about three am, the overhead light went on with Steven at the door. I'll never forget what he said in his apologetic voice... "Sorry guys, but I can't feel my feet. I need to get back in." So, Jaclyn - who weighed all of about ninety pounds - climbed into the very back and laid on top of all our bags and coolers, etc. Now Jose and Steven are in the back and we all try and go back to sleep. Well, first I snap some photos to prove it is possible to sleep seven adults in one Ford Excursion. The same photos that exposed Jose as the pillow thief he is since once they were posted to Facebook my sister screamed "That's my pillow!! No wonder I couldn't find it and no wonder it stunk when I got it home!!"

About four o'clock I was so cold, even with my sleeping bag on top of me like a blanket, that I whispered to my sister to turn the car on so we could get warm. Which she promptly obliged, probably because she hadn't been warm since we left the hotel Friday morning. We ran the heater until it was so hot in there I thought I would vomit (which according to her was not nearly long enough) and then I realized I was hungry. Like my stomach was growling. Guess who hadn't eaten after her second run and who had an empty tank with nothing left to fuel another run in a couple of hours. Yes, the same girl who still can't run on either an empty or a full stomach. Luckily someone had passed the reusable grocery back toward the front and I had the makings of PB&J within reach. I made me a sandwich and ate some grapes from the fruit cooler between the seats with the aid of my headlamp - which I never actually used for running but was required to have - without disturbing the rest of my van-mates.

After I was done eating I realized it was coming up on about four thirty and if the other van had either made up time or was on schedule still, we were going to need to be ready to run in just over an hour. I sent Melissa a text to check in and found they had fallen even further behind. They estimated they wouldn't be done and ready to pass off to us until about eight o'clock. Elated, I switched my alarm clock on my phone to much later and fell back to sleep, kind of.

The alarm clock went off at six forty five and everyone groaned since if I was up and needing to change my clothes, everyone had to be up so we could unload the car to get my bag out. They were offering breakfast of pancakes, eggs and sausage that we took advantage of. I changed out of the clothes I had spent the last thirty hours in and wiped down with some baby wipes - since there were no showers available. You never think that a wipe down with baby wipes is going to cut it until you're in a situation where it does and then you're grateful to have them. The downside of the morning was when my sister was in line for the Honey Buckets and the pump truck arrived to pump them out, and she was downwind. It was disgusting enough that she had almost made her way to the front of the line and still stepped out of it to escape the stink. I will say that overall the Honey Buckets themselves were never disgusting and the race team did a fabulous job coordinating the servicing to accommodate fourteen thousand runners using them constantly.

By the time we had all cleaned ourselves up, the sun was shining, mocking us with the inviting field of grass we could have slept on had we had the appropriate gear. We headed for the exchange to wait for Van Two. We had about half an hour of hanging out with the girls from the other van hearing about their overnight runs and van antics and the fact that they had not had any sleep yet while we waited for Melissa to arrive. I was so nervous and didn't think I had anymore running in me. I had rolled out with TheStick (which every runner must have we all decided that weekend) but I hadn't stretched much after my last run because it was too cold outside to do it before we hit the sack. I worried that I'd beaten my body to it's limit and it would rebel. I feared I'd take the baton and have to walk the whole length of my last four mile run.

I didn't need to be nervous, though. Melissa arrived, told me she had fallen on her face, and sent me on my way with the baton. I had psyched myself up, swore I would not humiliate myself by walking out of the exchange no matter what and surprisingly ran the first mile and a half straight. Then I hit some rolling hills and did more walk/run intervals telling my concerned van-mates that I was fine and was just going to take it easy. I had plenty of water and I would see them at the exchange since it was a short little run of four point one miles.

When I hit two miles according to my GPS I celebrated that I was halfway there and kept telling myself that even though I could see the course ahead of me and knew it was uphill the remainder of the way that I could do it. After all, I only had to go one more mile and then I'd see that beautiful and much loved marker that proclaimed "one mile to go". I was on the home stretch!

I looked down at my GPS and saw that I had gone three point nine miles, which meant I had a mere three tenths of a mile to go, and looked up to see... the "one mile to go" marker which was not welcome HERE and had become a taunt rather than a beloved sight. What the fuck are you talking about one mile to go? I KNOW this leg was only four point one miles! It must be a joke, right?! Only it wasn't... turns out the leg was actually four point nine, in other words a five mile leg, not the four I was expecting. That last mile began to drag out and my body - which I had been making deals with all morning to please just get me to that last exchange - started to scream in agony. My right foot started shooting weird pain from my arch down to my toes which I started worrying was some kind of injury; I could no longer muster the energy for even a short run interval between the walking and I was putting us seriously behind in our times.

I rounded the last corner and could see the exchange ahead of me. With the last ounce of will I had left I started running and as I got within fifty yards I screamed - at the top of my lungs with both arms held high, "I'M FUCKING DONE!" Did I care that my language probably offended half the people standing around? Not in the least... And I even had someone yell it back at me as I passed saying she thought she was the only one who felt that way. With jubilant screams and relief proceeding me, I saw my Hubby step up to take the baton from me for the last time. The running part of my Ragnar was over!

I stretched my poor calves and feet a bit and heard that the talk in the van had been along the lines of "why doesn't she let someone else take the last leg if she's hurting that much?" Which my wise sister proclaimed, accurately, I would never do because I was stubborn and had said I'd do it and by god would. We loaded into the van to catch up with Hubby who only had three miles to go. He ended up tweaking his knee not even a mile in and couldn't run anymore. He had to walk most of his third leg and hated every minute of it and most especially those minutes that included someone passing him. I hated seeing his disappointment of not finishing strong but reminded him that he barely trained for this event and should be proud that he did as well as he did on the first two legs and even had the ability to walk the last one.

Everyone else had short and easy legs except Steven who had been dreading his hardest and longest third run. It was over eight miles up another mountain highway pass behind Jordanelle. It was also a leg of no van support so we waved him goodbye from the exchange and toiled a bit to let Hubby and I stretch and relax a little before we made our way to the next exchange. Steven kicked ass doing what he calls construction intervals - run to a cone, walk to a cone. Then we watched Jacklyn sprint down into Heber Valley like a shot running about six and a half minute miles. Not bad for a mountain biker who doesn't run outside very often! She made up time for both Hubby and I and then Sean and Jose had quick and easy runs and we arrived in Heber to trade off one last time to Van Two at about one o'clock.

After the last exchange, we stretched out on the grass and again pulled out the cooler and food. We were so ravenous! Jose's family - who weren't going to see him for two weeks between business travel and Ragnar weekend - came and met us and Jose and Sean went home with them after we snapped some "OMG We did it" photos. (Deserters!)

We packed the car one last time, two people short, and headed for Park City High School and the finish line. We parked, used the Honey Buckets... again, walked forever to get to the stadium and then hung out for hours waiting for the team finish. We browsed through the very picked over merchandise tent, wandered past all the other vendor tents, scoped out the food and copped a squat at a table. Steven's family and Jaclyn's husband arrived and we got to tell our first recap of the weekend and relive the adventure we were still on. After some more food, we ended up in the end zone of the football field so we could have an easy reference point to tell Van Two where to meet us when they arrived. Since Steven's wife is a close friend, I chatted while my sister and Hubby fell asleep on the astro-turf.

Then Van Two arrived and at last we were all together. Mina, the nurse practitioner and all around kick ass woman, took one look at Hubby's knee and promptly escorted him to the first aid tent for an exam and an ice pack. Turns out he had overused and irritated his knee and needed Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation but had not torn his ACL again which is always his first fear. We made our way to the team holding area and began the stretch of waiting for them to announce our number over the PA so we could go onto the track and run with Melissa the last tenth of a mile to the finish line together. It was fun catching each other up on what each van had been up to. Mina disappeared and turns out had gone down the trail to meet Melissa and run in with her since this had been a no van support leg the whole way for her.

Finally they announced team 1048, Run Piggies Run and Melissa and Mina ran up onto the track and we all sprinted for the finish together... until I screamed "slow down" so we wouldn't leave my poor Hubby behind. We crossed at just past eight thirty PM. There were tons of smiles and lots of pictures snapped as we crossed as a team - well, minus the deserters who went home early. We were quickly herded to the adjoining tents to receive our medals and other finish line goodies and then to pose for official team finish photos in our medals. Two free pizzas from Little Caesars were snarfed down and poor Melissa tried to process it all while overwhelmed that she had just finished her long and very difficult run while we all rested and waited in anticipation.

Our official time was one hundred ninety two miles in thirty eight hours, five minutes and nine seconds. The winners did it in about eighteen hours, but we were not the last team to finish which is all that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that we DID finish!

We all walked together to the cars to hand out the official shirts that I'd been carrying around in Van One all weekend. Steven, Jaclyn and Mina went home with their families who came to watch the team finish. And the rest of us all climbed back into the stinky vans to make our way home after group hugs galore and talk about doing it all again.

I don't know if, after all of this, I have successfully expressed how amazing this weekend was. It was the most grueling and rewarding thing I have ever done. At times I hated it, at times I wanted to smack van-mates when my sleep deprived bitchy side was showing. But at the same time I loved every minute of the experience and I can't wait to do it again! Ragnar Vegas? Ragnar Napa? Anyone? The funniest thing is that registration for 2012 Wasatch Back is already open exclusively for those who did it this year. So I'm already back to planning and logistics mode for next year. If you're interested in being on the 2012 team, let me know!

My most relished moment overall was applying the badge of honor to the rear window of my car: the coveted Ragnar sticker. As Steven said, it makes it that much more impressive knowing that you don't get it when you check in, you can't buy it anywhere, you only get it when you finish. In other words, it is earned! Yes, the medal is nice and includes a bottle opener but it doesn't have anything on the sticker!

Ragnar Wasatch Back 2011 - Part 2

2011-06-26T13:45:00.000-06:00

We arrived at Snow Basin, the second major exchange where we would eventually meet up with the runner from Van Two and get the baton back to kick off our second set of runs, at about two o'clock. We didn't have much down time since the first set of legs for Van Two were all fairly short and they only had about five hours of running. Plus we'd hung out in Eden for a while already. We hiked from the lower parking lot to the lodge, stood in line for the Honey Buckets with the masses, and hiked back to the car. We had planned ahead to have real food with us and pulled the cooler out for pasta salad and grilled chicken. It was nice to lay down on the ground and stretch our legs. We even ended up being sucked into the merchandise tent to get our Ragnar gear - hoodies, shirts and beanies.

At this point in the day it wasn't much different than a day of training; I'd already done several days run in the morning and run at night. And this was the leg I was super excited for - my downhill leg. We checked in with the other team to see if they were on track for their run schedule, which they were, and relaxed for a bit. Steven was the smartest of us who wandered off with his blanket to find a shaded spot to try and get some sleep. The rest of us laughed and gossiped and talked about our next set of legs.

At about quarter till five o'clock we packed our gear up and got ready to head for the exchange point. This meant it was time for me to get nervous with anticipation again and start checking and double checking all my gear. I failed to mention that on my first leg my iPod decided to quit about a mile in. It doesn't like cold temperatures as much as I do apparently. I'd charged it in the car and strapped it onto my arm hoping it wouldn't fail me this time since I had a two hour run ahead of me. Garmin on my wrist, check. Heart rate monitor and Nike+ Sportband on the other, check. I filled up my water bottle to strap to my back, loaded up with my Gu for pre-run and mid-run fueling and prepped my recovery shake with water in my blender ball. I sprayed down with sunscreen and was ready.

Or so I thought...

I stood at the exchange for a long time waiting for Melissa - the last runner from Van Two. I couldn't blame her, she was running up the steep canyon road and she had told us she'd have to walk parts of it. I couldn't have done it and there's no shame in walking. The exchange was crazy and the volunteers were clearly not very adjusted to what they were doing - I suspected it was shift change. The runners were all lined up and craning necks to try and watch who was rounding the corner to see if it was their team mate or not. The more we craned our necks, the more the volunteers told us to step back. All the other exchanges had people who were radioing ahead from a half mile out when each runner would pass and they would announce the team number for those waiting. Well, not this exchange. Finally I saw her turn the corner running like a trooper. Apparently my Hubby, always the jokester, yelled "way to go, Melissa! Just one more mile!" Melissa didn't miss a beat and promptly flipped him the bird and the crowd roared with laughter. The fact that I missed this exchange completely, even standing right there, tells you how distracted I was and focused on my run. Hubby was laughing about it later and I had no idea what he was talking about.

And then I had taken the baton, slapped it around my wrist and headed off... On a journey into Hell.

The description of my leg was something like 'depart exchange 12 via utility road behind the lodge, turn right onto Snow Basin Road... blah blah blah... DOWN the canyon into Ogden Valley'. The reality of that utility road was nothing that I had planned for. It didn't just go quaintly behind the lodge that was right there, it went half a mile up the ski hill behind the lodge and was rocky as hell. I couldn't run it without twisting my ankle so it was more like a hike - a slow hike up a fifteen percent incline. I was super dejected when I realized it was a ski lift I was running next to and the road just kept going up. Finally, after what seemed like miles, the road turned back down the hill and my heart and lungs got a little breather - not to mention my legs. The worst part was the bugs - that kept hitting me in the face and sticking to the sweat there. And, of course, there was no van support on this section so I couldn't even tell anyone I needed the bug spray, which was buried in my bag in the back of the van anyway. I was miserable and had eight miles left to go.

And then I hit the snow...

Yes, SNOW! I had to climb three steps up onto the top of a large section of snow and run across the top of it. Trust me, I looked and there was no way around that snowbank that completely covered a section of the utility road. It was slushy snow - a pile which had been there for a while, cold, then melted, then cold again. I slipped and sloshed around in the ankle-deep slush on top literally cursing with each step thinking about how miserable this run would be if I had wet shoes or wet socks or both.

Once past the snow, I hit the road and was finally back to van-support. I had a section of uphill which I figured was my last and settled in for walk/run intervals to get to the top. Running is such a mental sport and I kept telling myself that I could do it and focused on the downhill reward after this little uphill section since then I would be heading back down to hook up to the main canyon highway from the little detour into the ski resort exchange point. Not long after I hit the road I saw the blessed - and now recognizable thanks to our decorating efforts - back of my van. I yelled at the top of my lungs "bug spray!" and hoped my sister who was hanging out the open driver's window could understand what I was screaming. She did and luckily had some which was more handy than mine and didn't require an unpacking of the van to get to. I stopped to get sprayed down, glad for the little rest after the uphill, and headed out again - still excited.

And man was that downhill ever fun! Seven percent downgrade - hell yes! Except it didn't last as long as I thought and about two more miles down when I hit the main highway I was back to uphill... and it was a long and steady slight uphill grade which is my least favorite. I'd rather have a super tough but short uphill that I can psych myself up about and push through. This was torture. And on top of that, we were now in an area of main highway and the support people in my van couldn't get out and cross the road to me if I needed anything. I'd already drank most of my water I was carrying, was feeling the late day heat and knew I'd need more. Since it was a long non-van support leg, there were water stations and at the first one they let me refill my water bottle and I grabbed some Powerade. About that time my calf started cramping up because I hadn't stretched as much as I should have between runs. I yelled to the van across the highway that I needed a banana and Steven chucked one across the road. I'm a total girl so I didn't catch it and it landed at my feet, broken open and smashed on one end. I ate most of it and tossed the biodegradable remains over the side of the cliff and pushed on hoping my dancing nanny who had told me the trick of eating a banana to get rid of cramps was right. Guess what, she was!

The rest of the leg translated much differently in reality than what I had envisioned based on the graphic on the leg map. It was more rolling hills with a general trend downward. So not what I had been looking forward to in the form of constant downhill! Guess I should have trained for uphill just a bit more than I had...

At the halfway point I was a wreck. I had pushed my body to lengths it had never been pushed before and I was approaching - and would exceed - the most mileage I had ever run in a twelve hour period. Not even my half marathon mileage was this long. My feet were hurting, my plantar fasciitis that I'd been babying for a week of rest prior to race day was flaring and shooting pain up my heel with every step. But I kept going because there was no way this race that I'd been dreaming about for years and training for months for was going to beat me. And then I could see the end and the last stretch of downhill waiting and knew I just needed to make it the last three miles and I could rest. I had hit a point that I needed to be by myself to struggle on my own and didn't want my van-mates to see it so I waved them on to the next exchange so Hubby could get ready for his run. I took some more Powerade from the last water station and settled in for the longest stretch of road I have ever run...

As I crested the last section of slight uphill with about two miles left to go, I looked up and saw the most beautiful view of the Ogden valley opening up below me. The sun - which was almost setting to my right - bounced off the green hills surrounding me with surreal light. And then our song from our wedding started playing on the iPod in my ears which thankfully hadn't quit on me this time. I started crying, it hit me so hard. And I'm not going to lie, I cried those last two miles almost nonstop while people continued to pass me and yell "good job" counting me as the roadkill I felt like. This was also the point I had officially sweat off all the bug spray because the bugs returned and started sticking to the sweat on my face again. Bugs are so gross!

As I came into view of the exchange I tried to pull myself together, still trudging along and telling myself I felt this way because I had just run fifteen miles in the space of twelve hours - FIFTEEN - and that I was amazing for living through it and still be running. I was able to stop the tears and focus on getting to the exchange point, looking frantically for my Honey who had changed his shirt while I was running. When he stepped up from the line of runners waiting at the exchange and I finally saw him I lost it again, slapped the baton on him and wished him luck. As he ran off looking strong I promptly broke down like a baby while my team stepped up to congratulate me. Luckily my friend Steven offered his shoulder to cry on for a moment while I composed myself. I'm sure it was awkward for him but I appreciated it so much. Then I saw my sister, though, and I lost it again. Thank god she was there for me to hug, cry with and to snap me back to reality. She told me how amazing it was that I had just done something that no one else she knows could have done, reminded me I HAD done it and it was over, and that I needed to pull myself together. Just the right combination of bitchy and supportive I needed. I stretched a tiny bit and jumped into the van because Hubby's leg was only three miles and we couldn't let him beat us to the exchange while I had an emotional fit. I put my big girl panties back on, mixed up my recovery shake and drank it while basking in what I had just accomplished. The irony that the leg I had most looked forward to during training was the one I hated the most was not lost on me. And, we were now forty minutes behind our estimated pace times between me and Melissa having to walk parts of the canyon.

We leap-frogged through the rest of the runners who all now had to wear their reflective gear because we'd entered the official night time running hours: reflective vest, head lamp and butt light all required. Everyone between me and Jose had their easy legs with short and flat mileage paralleling the highway running through the valley I'd just gotten us into and I envied every single one of them.

By the time Jose headed out on his final run it was full dark and this was his hardest and longest leg heading up to East Canyon State Park. A combination of no one paying attention to what time he actually left the exchange, several of us needing to stand in line for the Honey Buckets... again... and him running either faster or slower than his published pace, we lost him. It was surreal how every single runner from the back looked exactly the same with the exception of being able to tell which version of reflective vest they had - the vest kind or the Y-suspender kind. We went ahead of where we thought he should be and stopped to wait. Then panicked after sitting there long enough that we swore he should have passed by already and worrying that he'd already passed that spot while we dallied at the exchange. So we moved a couple of miles ahead passing what we estimated was the entire section of the runners who had just run past us at the last place and then some hoping to catch up to him. We did this three more times without ever being able to pick him out and decided we better head to the exchange assuming at this point he would beat us there.

Except when we got there, he wasn't there and I got worried. Yes, he was carrying his own water and he was a strong runner who said he didn't need anything from us when he headed out but we'd agreed we'd meet him at the halfway mark of his eight mile run to check on him. And instead we'd lost him among the other runners and ultimately abandoned him. We settled in at the exchange with Nancy, the first runner from Van Two, and waited in the freezing night air. And by freezing I mean freezing, literally. Sub forty degree temps are fabulous to run in, not so fun to stand around in with only a hoodie...

Finally we heard them announce our team number and saw Jose come down the last stretch and into the illumination of the lights. Relief! We wished Nancy and Van Two luck as they were off to run all through the rest of the night and we headed to the car to get warm, apologizing to Jose for losing him as we went.

We headed out from the exchange all very excited for some much anticipated rest we had ahead of us. As we read the directions from the race magazine about where we could go and hang out to have indoor sleeping accommodations and showers (for a price, of course) and then realized it would mean a thirty mile backtrack in the morning to get to the exchange which they recommended we get to early, we all decided it would be best to maximize the time we had to sleep and go straight to the real exchange instead of the alternate hang out location. So, we bee-lined it straight to Oakley to sleep and run again the next morning.

Ragnar Wasatch Back 2011 - Part 1

2011-06-23T13:37:00.000-06:00

What an amazing weekend... What an endurance test... What an accomplishment...

WE DID IT!! Our entire team finished the 191 grueling miles together and had the experience of a lifetime. I'm still all jumbled up in my thoughts and trying to wrap my mind around how to relay everything that transpired effectively. How do you explain to people how spending thirty eight hours in a car together, with five other stinky runners, driving slowly across half the state can be fun? But oh my god was it ever fun!!

I made a list of things to do differently next time (yes, there's definitely going to be a next time!)
1) take a backpack, not your purse, Terra *sheesh*
2) pack even lighter - I didn't use half the stuff I brought because my bag was buried in the back the whole time. Which will also be solved with a backpack to put my essentials in and have handy.
3) we need a unique lighting option to differentiate OUR runners at night, even in Van 1
4) we don't need as much food next time
5) don't do three graveyard on-call shifts the week leading up to Ragnar

The week leading up to the race I was a total stress ball but when it came to actual race day I was relaxed and ready to experience Ragnar. Thursday was filled with last minute preparations - like getting the house restocked with groceries so my poor kids who were staying home with the nanny for the weekend could eat. Everyone in my van, "Van One", met at my house that evening to drive the two hours to Logan where the race started. We met the one person none of us knew at the hotel when we checked in and headed for the restaurant for dinner. We picked an Italian place so we could all "carb-load". Kind of a joke among runners to eat a big meal the night before when in reality, if you were really carb-loading the correct way, it happens over a couple of weeks and is way intense. By the time we got done with dinner and back to the hotel to hit the sack it was after eleven o'clock PM. With our start time of six-thirty the next morning we decided we needed to rendezvous around the coffee pot in the lobby by four-forty five. Considering I was the first runner, I can't run on an empty stomach AND I can't run on a full stomach I had to be up at about three-forty five to eat my meal replacement, get dressed and repacked and ready to head out. Yikes, that is NOT a lot of sleep and it was going to bite me in the ass later considering I'd worked the graveyard on-call shift the two nights in a row previous and had gotten very little sleep.

The weather gods were smiling down on me personally when the morning brought almost freezing temperatures. It's no secret that I hate the heat and my favorite temperature to run in is forty. Being the first runner out of the gate and it being under forty when we headed out from the hotel brought me such joy. We made our way - after my sister and I reloaded the car while everyone else sipped coffee - to the start where we had to stand in line to check in to get our race bibs... Then another line to get our safety flags... Then another line to get our safety briefing done... No wonder they tell you to arrive an hour and a half before your scheduled start time! Luckily there was a huge merchandise tent that was warm. I'm sure it was on purpose since it was a superb marketing ploy.

Then they were calling the runners for the 6:30 start time to line up. The start was on the Utah State University campus track and then out the stadium from there to wind our way through quaint farming communities and over three mountain passes toward our finish line. About fifty teams start together so the track was full but not overflowing. Teams start all day in order to keep the course manageable with the fourteen THOUSAND runners who participated. I was so nervous and so excited standing there among all the other runners doing the "runner one" spot. When they said "GO" we all took off and for once I didn't sprint off the start but stuck to my pace. Which also meant by the time we came to the first corner to put us out onto the roads of Logan I was well in last place. The motto is: "further, not faster" and I kept telling myself that it didn't matter how fast I went just as long as I could go the distance. Especially since I had the longest total mileage of anyone on the team. The morning was so beautiful and I had such an amazing run those first seven miles. My van-mates, led my my sister the best driver on the planet, stopped every couple of miles to make sure I didn't need anything and to give me more cow bells. (If you haven't seen the SNL skit about more cow bells you must google it and watch it!)

One of the funnest parts of running Ragnar is watching all the crazy vans drive by and seeing how they have been decorated with team names and themes. I realized that we were in serious need of van decorating since ours had none at that point. We didn't want to get up earlier or stay up later to do it and figured we'd have plenty of time during the race. Not only are the van decorations and sayings painted on the windows entertaining to see, it makes your van more distinguishable among the hundreds that pass by on each leg. So, note to self: must get at least our team name on the windows after I'm done running. Luckily we'd tracked down some car markers the night before.

Only one thing marred that first run and it was a personal annoyance that plagued me the entire race... being road kill. Some hard core Ragnar runners have started the tradition of counting their kills through the race. In Ragnar-speak a roadkill is when you pass up another runner. I'm sure if you're the one doing the passing and there are very few people to count it is fun and exhilarating. When you are the slowest runner on that leg and EVERYONE passes you and says "good job" as they run by it feels more demeaning than encouraging. I was thankful to those who passed by me in silence and stayed out of my head remembering that I was only responsible for running my pace on my legs, not anyone else's, and we'd still finish on time. We were in it to Finish, not in it to win it after all. I ran the seven miles in exactly the time I estimated it would take me for my average 10K pace and felt amazing. That was the leg I had been most worried about since it included a lot of rolling hills. I like it flat and downhill, I'm not gonna lie!

At the end of my run I handed off to my sexy husband who was waiting at the exchange and he headed out on his first leg of six miles. He killed everyone who had just killed me AND got his picture taken by a photographer for one of the local papers which was featured on their website the next day. He ran so fast that by the time I'd cooled down and we loaded into the van to leap-frog ahead of him and be ready with water, he'd passed the point he told us he'd want us at. So, we just kept driving until we found him and pulled over to give him some water. Not too shabby for a guy who had his ACL replaced two and a half years ago and did very little training for the actual running part of Ragnar.

We repeated the cool-down-the-incoming-runner-and-leapfrog-ahead-to-support-the-current-runner dance through the other four runners in the van. It was so interesting to watch how each person's demeanor would change as they became the runner on deck and would start their own mental preparations. Some would get quiet, some would get giddy and some just didn't sweat it but strapped on their bib number and was ready to go. Steven called himself the grumpy runner because he doesn't actually love the running part of running. He retreated into his headphones in search of his zen place and ran very focused, not needing much support from us in the van at all. Jaclyn we soon found was our secret weapon and could run so fast. She was almost all done with her first run before we even caught up with her. Sean had a tough climb up Avon pass but enjoyed it so much he was posing for pictures as we passed him by. Jose screamed downhill on the other side of the pass and also posed for pictures - road killing along the way.

We arrived at the first major exchange in Eden about one o'clock PM to find massive amounts of team vans. A major exchange is where both vans from your team - and every other team - are there together because one van is handing off to the other van. You can imagine the chaos! We were parked in some poor farmer's field who I am personally grateful is someone who supports Ragnar and let us be there. We split up with half of us heading for the lines to use the Honey Buckets (aka, road construction porta-potty) and the rest searching for Van Two before they headed out to support Nancy as she took the exchange from Jose. By some miracle we were parked in the same general area as them and saw them as they were heading out. We passed on the other half of the cowbells, gushed about how much fun we were having and wished them as much luck on their legs.

With the baton now with Van Two, we had about five hours of down time before we had to be at the next major exchange and ready for our next set of runs. We hung out there for a bit to see what booths they had and what free food there was, which was not much since they had chips and salsa but had run out of salsa. The free samples of frozen yogurt were a hit and the jewelry that enticed me turned out to be kind of cheesy and overpriced. So, we all stood in line for the Honey Buckets - something that became one of the main activities of the weekend as Steven pointed out - and then headed back to the car. We took the time then to put our team name "Run, Piggies, Run" on the back window of the Excursion and put each runner's name on the side windows with three check-boxes to mark our progress along the way. Van decorating complete, we headed for Snow Basin to wait for Van Two to get done and pass the baton back to us.

*** I've decided to publish the race recap in three parts or else it will be ages before anyone hears how it all went! Stay tuned for the next installment that will cover the second leg of our journey! ***

Ragnar Recap - Pre Race

2011-06-15T23:22:00.001-06:00

What the hell is Ragnar? I realized that just because people have been hearing me talk (and blog and tweet and Facebook) about Ragnar for a year that doesn't mean people know what it is or what I am about to embark on. In a nutshell, it is a relay race from Logan to Park City, UT: one hundred ninety one miles, run by twelve runners over a forty eight hour period. The twelve runners are split into two vans and each runner runs three different times. Each leg of the relay is assigned so if I'm runner one (which I just so happen to be), I run legs one, thirteen and twenty five. The motto of the race is: Run, Drive, Sleep, Repeat. The original race of the Ragnar Relay Series is the Wasatch Back here in Utah but they have them all over the country now. So you know it has to be fun, right?

It's amazing to me that Ragnar is actually here. I started talking about doing a Ragnar Relay years ago. The first year, I wasn't ready as a runner to even run the distance of one of the legs but it sounded so fun I said "next year" and vowed to train hard. Then I got pregnant and missed the next year. The following year I didn't think I'd have enough time to recover from childbirth and train for Ragnar in five months so I said "next year" yet again.

"Next year" arrived last summer - the summer of 2010. My adorable running fool of a cousin starts talking about Ragnar at the yearly family reunion every summer because she has just finished a few months before. Last year was only different in one way: I was finally capable (and ready and willing) to join in the fun. So we decided to get a team together. Between the two of us we were sure we could find ten other runners if each of us focused on filling a van with our fellow running buddies. Since both of our husbands are also runners, that left only four people for each of us to find and get committed. Registration is in August so we had a couple of months.

Early August arrived and I had my runners but she had complications - namely of the conflict variety. See, she's done this several years and is a very strong runner having done a full marathon last year. There was a team at her work and they really wanted her - and they had a lot of money and sponsors which we wouldn't have which I admit would have been super enticing for me. She also did not want to be a team captain - adamantly did not want to be the captain. I assured her I didn't feel bad that she wanted to join the team at work with all her friends (and sponsors!) and said I'd just get my own team together.

I should have listened to her vehement objection to being the captain but what did I know then?

So, I talked to everyone I know and all of their friends and put together a team of twelve committed runners who had paid me their portion of the team registration and even got in before the early registration (aka discount period) was over. Two days before regular registration even began, our team "Run Piggies Run" had a team number and a spot in the Wasatch Back 2011. They allow 1050 teams and we were team number 1048. Yes, you read that correctly. The race sold out two days before early registration was over. It got me all excited that we got in and I started planning and thinking about logistics.

And then the one person who hadn't paid me but assured me they would backed out and I was already trying to find someone else to take their place. Luckily, one of my running friend's team from the previous year didn't get registered in time so she was available and filled the spot quickly. That was the beginning of a string of substitutions that resulted in five of the twelve original team members replaced since then. We had one drop out due to injury, one got a super exciting internship for the summer in D.C., one had a conflict with scouting and one had a sister who got married and had the nerve to schedule her wedding on Ragnar weekend. Oh, and my friend who ran last year who's team didn't get in? They registered wait list and got in a few weeks ago. Luckily I have three neighbors I successfully talked into joining the insanity and my good friend Diyeana talked her sister in law and new boss into last minute substitutions. The craziest part for me is that I have still not even met two of my teammates - one of which will be in my van for a thirty six hour stinkfest.

Since August I have exercised my project management skills so much that I should have been getting paid to do it. Twelve adults who live all over the place with crazy schedules were assembled for planning meetings twice and every logistical possibility planned for. Countless emails were exchanged keeping us all on the same page and preparing all of us for our very first Ragnar (with the exception of one who did Ragnar Vegas last October and who I couldn't have done it without.) All this while I was doing all the other insane things I always do AND running twenty miles a week on average for the past twenty weeks. And all of the planning and training culminates tomorrow as we embark on our Ragnar journey.

On top of all our team logistics we've had record late snowfall in Utah and it was only today, two days before race day, that we got the official word that the roads on the two passes through the mountains had been cleared of snow and would be drivable. As much stress as I've had coordinating my little team of twelve could you imagine having to work out logistics for the entire race? Think about it - one thousand fifty teams of twelve runners and you're talking over twelve thousand runners. Hubby and I drove parts of the course over Memorial Day and if nothing else I'm looking forward to running through some beautiful country. Thank god we didn't have to add more mileage to anyone's runs to go around the mountain passes that were still closed due to snow!

We leave tomorrow evening to drive the two hours to where the race starts to hopefully get some sleep at a hotel so we can be at the starting line by 5:00AM on Friday morning. I'm the first runner out of the gate at 6:30 AM with a 6.9 mile run. Approximately twelve hours later, I have my second run of 8.3 miles down one of the canyon passes. My third run is my "easy" one at just over 4 miles of mostly flat terrain. My total mileage is twenty miles in thirty six hours. Still sounds daunting even to me when I add the miles together but I've been training hard and I know I can do them split up into the three different runs with no sweat.

Did you hear me just now sounding all positive and shit? I hope you bought it because really I'm scared shitless that I'll have to walk that last four miles or that I'll get so stiff riding around in the van that I won't be able to run either of the subsequent runs. But, I'm not letting myself stress about it because regardless of how it happens I am excited to experience it and have a blast. I even talked my sister into being our support driver and I'm really looking forward to spending the time with her - although I don't think she's quite as excited to endure what can only be termed a sweaty stink-fest. When one of the top things on any list of what to bring is a towel to sit on "so the stink doesn't go into the seats" followed closely with the tip to pack your clothes in large Ziploc bags so you can "zip up the stink" you have to expect the worst, right?

I'm heading off to bed now... wish me luck and watch my tweets for updates along the way. Of course I'll recap post-race as well - if I live through it, that is!

Screw that, I've got feathers in my hair!

2011-06-07T21:59:00.000-06:00

Okay, I'm officially done with my little meltdown. Seriously, last week had me on the edge more times than I've been in... well, I don't ever remember being that close that often before. I'm always a little psychotic around a new moon but this one was a doozie and will go down in the history books, I'm afraid. I'll look back years from now and say "wow, remember the new moon of May 2011? What a killer!" I have now effectively slapped myself back to kickin' ass and takin' names mode and am ready to tackle the mountain of laundry I've let pile up and get back to writing, which I've been slacking on.

Speaking of writing...My writer's group IS AMAZING and helped immensely getting me out of the slump. We met last week which was fabulous as always. I got to play with character development through dialogue which I didn't realize I could do until I tried. And, we ended the evening with a brainstorm session on my novel. I came away with lots of the fuzzy ideas I've had swarming around in my head a bit more solidified AND on paper. But, it also resulted in many a daunting realization for me. Like am I really changing the name of my female main character? (If you have any powerful sounding female names, please share them since she can no longer have the same name as Baby Sister!) And am I really thinking of putting a religious aspect into my book? (Yes, ME, the non-religious girl with religion in her book!) And is my male main character going to fundamentally have to change everything he's been doing in the beginning of the story? I know all three of these things mean a much more challenging story to write but I'm excited about the possibilities and the depth they will bring to my little baby. I can't wait to be able to carve out consistent time again to write. Which I will do once the insanity that is Ragnar is over in just over a week. I've come to accept that there is no way to do both Ragnar training AND writing at the same time and I just have to be okay with not doing everything all the time when I bite off this much to chew on.

Sigh. Sometimes being an overachiever really bites.

With that said, my running lately has been a joke and I'm worried that I should be more stressed about it. I haven't run more than four or five miles in weeks because of time constraints with the hubby's new schedule cutting into my gym time. And, since I'm being honest, I haven't even been that motivated to push myself to the level of training I know I need to be at in order to be successful on this race. Like Sunday night I totally could have done a second run in the evening but I just didn't want to get off the couch. And I didn't. If I'm rationalizing, which I've been doing a lot of the last couple of weeks, it's because I've been suffering with a flare up of my old nemesis running injury, plantar fasciitis, and I don't want to push myself hard and then not be able to even run on race weekend. Then there's the run I tried in the eighty two degree heat of a June Sunday in Utah that sapped my energy so much that I couldn't even run more than thirty minutes before I thought I'd die - LITERALLY. Have I mentioned how much I loathe heat? I long for the cool temperatures of fall already and it isn't even full-blown summer yet. I'm probably the only person I know who trains outdoors all winter and opts for the treadmill in the summer. But I digress...

Today I got some good news coupled with a dose of reality. I stumbled across an article talking about the need for rest and how some runners have a tendency to overlook it. Turns out that being stressed and tired and all the things I've been suffering the last few weeks takes a toll on a runner's performance and the only cure is to take some time to rest so your body has time to recover. So, the new plan is to not stress about how much training I'm going to get, or not get, in the next week. Seriously, I've been training hard core for 18 weeks and it's time to start tapering off so I am rested and ready for race day. I'll go for a few light runs between now and then but not push myself. I know that I am indeed capable of running morning and night and the next morning - because I've done it already - and that I can run the distances I have on tap for each of my legs of the relay - seven miles, eight miles and four miles respectively. It feels good being back in the mind frame of "I'm ready" instead of the stressed out "OMG I'M NOT GOING TO BE READY" I've been feeling. On the way home from work today I saw a bumper sticker that said "FURTHER... NOT FASTER" and I laughed right out loud because it was clearly on the back of that Jeep just for me to see and be reminded that for me it isn't about speed but endurance. I need to turn off the pace calculator on the old Garmin and things might be a bit less stressful for myself. When did I become so obsessed with being competitive anyway?

I also had an epiphany the other day when the date of my first race of the running season came and went and I didn't even register or pretend to care that I was missing it. Once Ragnar is over, I'm going to go back to running for the joy of running and not care about a race until the half marathon in October. By then it will be cooler temperatures and I can train hard for a few months and be happy. After the insanity of Ragnar training it will be nice to take a break, enjoy running again, and have time to write.

To go along with my new outlook, I indulged a whim and got feather extensions in my hair at the gym last weekend with Big Sister. It's fabulous and sassy and represents everything I'm feeling now where nothing is going to get me! So, the only question is, did the feathers come because of the new outlook or did my outlook change because I got feathers in my hair? At this point, I'm so glad to be out from under the dark cloud of ick that I don't care how it happened, I'm just glad it did! Here's to the downhill fun of this roller coaster I call life!

All I get are book reviews? What is happening!

2011-05-26T00:01:00.000-06:00

I've been so busy I somehow forgot I'm a blogger. I may have forgotten I'm a writer for a little bit, too. Right now all I am is a mom and a runner... And I'm not even doing either of those very well.

Wow, doesn't that sound like a pity party? If I were one of you, my faithful if anonymous followers, I might shake my head and mutter about the downer and stop reading. But, guess what - life is as full of downers as it is uppers. And I'm not talking about little pills either. So, instead of suffering alone, I'm sharing with the world - my small corner of it anyway - and hoping somehow it is the key to turning it all around and getting me out of the current slump.

It isn't even a slump really. I'm just overwhelmed with my life. It happens. Occasionally.

Hubby isn't happy with his job. I'm not happy with my job. Big Sister is, I'm hoping, a typical nine year old who would rather lolly-gag and watch TV than pick up after herself regardless of how often I yell at her and ground her and take away her phone. Little Sister is in the full blown "terrible two's" and is constantly throwing tantrums and screaming when she doesn't get her way. Hubby's work schedule - at the job he hates - has begun interfering with everything from co-parenting to my running and we barely get to see each other. I have the equivalent of a part time job on top of my regular full-time day job in required after-hours support. And, I haven't written a thing in weeks - unless you count a couple of book reviews. Oh, and I am so busy both at work and at home that it's been days since I got to talk to my friend who abandoned me at work and who I miss desperately. You know, now that I think about it this can all be blamed on her - since she left there is no one around who lets me vent and keeps me sane. Great.

So, that's my life in a nutshell.

Plus, I'm freaking out about Ragnar because I've been so crazy busy the last two weeks that I haven't gotten to run regularly and now we only have about three weeks of training time left before the big show. Oh, and did I mention that we've had to replace five of the twelve team members in the last few weeks? Yeah, try finding runners insane enough to even consider doing this relay race who aren't already on a team and who are willing to jump in with only a few weeks left to train. It is pretty difficult. Luckily I know a lot of people but we've pushed the limit on scraping the barrel so hopefully it is over.

Oh, and did I mention that I need to have my wisdom teeth removed? Yeah, I'm thirty nine and I still have my wisdom teeth - don't judge. And the recovery time is going to either interfere with Ragnar OR trump our trip back to Glacier we had planned... Do you see why I'm a wreck these days?

I do have stolen moments here and there like glimmers of light to cling to in the darkness and keep me going. Book club last week was amazing and the brief brainstorming session with a fellow writer afterward may have finally gotten me past the little block I had going with moving forward on my novel. Although I haven't had a chance to write, I'm constantly thinking about the characters and the story line and wondering where it is going to take me. Dance season is over so I'll get a month off from the shuttling back and forth three nights a week and school is out next week so my mornings will get less intense.

So, if you find yourself wondering where I've been and why all I've been posting are a few book reviews, picture me screaming through life with a toddler on my leg and my hair on fire juggling more than my usual share. And with this picture in your mind, I hope you'll forgive me...

Five Quarters of the Orange, by Joanne Harris

2011-05-23T14:45:00.000-06:00

This was a book club pick about a girl growing up in occupied France during WWII. She returns to her childhood home as a widow hoping no one will recognize her as the young girl who's name she no longer uses because of the scandal that occurred with her Mother. It's been a week since I finished reading AND participated in the book club discussion and I still don't know exactly how I feel about this book... I really liked the story but there was so much anticipation and suspense built up around this big secret the main character had kept hidden forever that when I finally learned the truth it was almost a let-down. I read this book (vs. listening to it) and I found all the french in it distracting. I feel like I missed whole pieces of the book between not knowing all the food references and then not being able to interpret the sections in french or even know what some of the names of the characters should sound like in my head. That alone was enough to knock this book from four stars down to three. However, if you're looking for a book that keeps you guessing until the end with interesting characters this is still a book I would recommend for a quick and light read.

One thing I really liked was how the author showed us things that done by an adult would be appalling but when done by a nine year old child seemed almost harmless. And the added layer of character development getting to see the same child grow to adulthood and look back on the role she may have played in her own Mother's actions was fabulous. I loved the book club discussion and took away may other insights I hadn't come up with on my own - as always!

I Don't Want To Kill You

2011-05-10T13:44:00.000-06:00

I looked forward to this, the newest book from Dan Wells, with great anticipation. And while it was an enjoyable read, sadly it wasn't as good as the first two. I felt that the main character was too different in this third and final book and I wanted him to be the same dark and terrifying teen we had glimpsed and gotten intimate with in the first two. The story and the twists and turns it took were very interesting and exciting enough to keep me reading but the character of John and the inconsistencies left me wanting. What happened to the guy who obsessed so much about killing that he had to resort to starting fires in Mr. Monster with all his rules to keep him from behaving like the sociopath he really is? He's completely gone and if you hadn't read the first two books you could almost miss the fact that he IS a killer, not just some good guy who has to do bad things occasionally to save the people in his community. Most of the time he comes across as just an awkward teen, barely noticing that he's gotten himself a girlfriend, rather than the chillingly creepy sociopath walking a thin line and fighting his inner demons constantly. It was clumsy character development at best. While the story came to an exciting conclusion with more action and more demons, I just didn't feel emotionally attached anymore to the main character so it left me feeling flat. I wanted to love this book and while I still will highly recommend the series, this was not my favorite installment.

I'm really so sad... but can't wait to discuss it with all my reading and writing buddies who have been waiting somewhat impatiently for me to "get done with it already!" Kudos to all of them who kept their opinions to themselves and let me read with unbiased eyes - I don't know if I could have done the same for them!

Don't forget the sun on your shoulders

2011-05-03T12:59:00.000-06:00

Gadget geek checking in with news of her latest acquisition: I'm SO excited that I have a GPS for running. Even cooler is the resourcefulness I exhibited (usually Hubby's forte) in obtaining it FOR FREE because the guy selling the older model his wife never used couldn't find the charger and thus it is pretty worthless to either of us. Apparently it was easier to just let me take it off his hands than to throw it out himself once we realized it was missing. Thank you, Amazon seller who still had an old style charger, and $25 later I have a Garmin!! For those unversed in the runner gear world, that equates to about a $250 savings. So you can see why I'm so excited....

Okay, all gushing aside at the coolest thing since my Nike+ for a moment so I can update you on the insanity that I call Ragnar training...

First, I am totally behind. And I mean seriously behind. Like I should have run a sixteen mile run last weekend and I logged a mere five mile limp-fest instead. The reality of trying to run long distances even once a week with two kids and a husband, who I would really like to stay married to and see frequently, doesn't exist in my universe. So, I'm doing the best I can and hoping that my training approach will be just as good as the one on the website assuming their training program is only one way of preparing. Sort of like how speed limit signs are merely a suggestion when I'm driving. It's possible. My approach is this: Instead of stressing about my total distance of twenty one miles - yes, that's five miles shy of a FULL marathon - and thinking I need to be able to run that in one long run, I'm focusing on mimicking the act of running my specific legs of the relay in relatively close intervals. Which means my "every day" run in the middle of the week needs to be about eight miles and I need to do two of those about twelve hours apart then throw in another four mile run twelve hours after that. Sounds do-able, right? I am capable of running eight miles at a time already, it's just the challenge of finding the two hours to do it amongst the chaos of the rest of my life. If only I didn't have to work all day... think of all the training I could get done!

Then there's the limp-fest I mentioned. The last few weeks I've totally been babying my stupid knees that are fine when I'm not running and then are excruciating daggers of pain with every step while running. This is nothing new if you've been following my training this year but even when I've been diligently icing and resting and not trying to increase my mileage too fast it has still been a problem, like last week. I started my hill training and I wondered if it was because I was using different muscles - I KNOW I was using different muscles in my ass because for a few days after the first hill run I could barely sit without pain, but that's another story. So I searched all the runner websites and all the blogs and I found a few references about re-training your gait in order to prevent recurring injuries. The theory is that it is because of the bio-mechanics of your stride and gait that you have the pain that you do and if you change the way you run you can prevent the pain and injuries. What the hell, after starting out last Sunday for an eleven mile planned run feeling awesome and then having to WALK most of the way until I called for a pickup, I was willing to try anything! Three runs later - one on the treadmill and two outdoor - I am happy to report that it seems to be working. I have even minimized my old nemesis plantar fasciitis while I was at it and I haven't needed to ice my knee for a week. The secret? Realigning my pelvis so it isn't tilted and engaging my core muscles differently plus making sure my feet are equal distance apart with my knees pointing straight ahead. Sounds so easy, right?

Which brings us back to the joy and agony of my new Garmin GPS. Remember, I am a numbers and data kind of girl who tracks every run and what my pace is and all the other stats with my Nike+. But, as my distances have increased I have noticed more and more of a discrepancy between what my mapping software says the run is and what my Nike+ says I've run when it is all said and done. Which is probably the real reason I searched long enough to find the replacement charger if I'm being honest. I was excited to have a GPS accuracy for my pace and distance tracking but also a bit nervous about what I might find out. My first outdoor run was canceled due to weather - I had cool weather gear packed but wasn't equipped for sub-freezing temperatures in the last week of April. When I finally did get a chance to use it I was running an uphill route. The data was discouraging but hey, it was UPHILL. So I did a downhill run just to be sure of the accuracy AND wore both gadgets to compare them real time. Picture it: left arm strapped with my Garmin which is the size of a small cell phone. My right arm has both my heart rate monitor and my Nike+ band which is only slightly smaller than a regular watch. I looked like Madonna in the 80's with her bracelets to her elbows. What I found is that I was right - the Nike+ was off in both distance and pace calculations. I ran 3.05 miles by the GPS but Nike+ said 3.48. I ran a pace of 14:30/mile by the GPS but the Nike+ said I was a 13:30/mile. Considering the Ragnar start time and logistics live and die by the average pace of the team, to know I was a minute slower per mile was disheartening to say the least. Plus the realization that my long runs have been about a mile shorter than what I thought which means now I'm even more behind in my training... It was another low point for me.

But, as I ran with my heart in my chest, the self-doubt thoughts swirling in my head, the strong and chilly headwind whistling past my ears and the obsessing about running the right way marching like a cadence to the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, I felt the sun warm on my shoulders. And for just a minute I remembered that none of that other shit matters. What matters is how I feel when I run - the freedom, the joy, the exhilaration. JUST RUN! My pace is what my pace is no matter how badly I want it to be faster but it doesn't matter - because running is an individual sport and all I have to do is better than I did the last time and I win. And the more I run the faster I'll get.

The Whistling Season, by Ivan Doig

2011-04-28T07:48:00.000-06:00

I'm not usually a fan of the western but this was like no western I've ever read. The story of a homesteader widow and his three young sons in Montana in the early 1900's who take a chance and hire a housekeeper from back east hoping she was lying in her ad and really can cook, too. It was an enjoyable glimpse of early American life in a one-room school house that culminated in a mystery that I didn't see coming. The writing was heavy in the language of the period with a sing-song quality at times that, at first, was hard to get immersed in. I listened to most of it on audiobook by a good narrator which I believe was a better experience than trudging through the language and trying to find the voice of the book on my own. A book club pick that I would recommend to anyone if you're looking for a quick read you won't have to think much about.

The book club discussion was surprisingly focused on JUST THE BOOK which was a welcome change for our crazy group lately. We decided it isn't really a western but more like a period drama which makes sense when I think about it. After some of the very heavy and very political books we've read (and fought about) lately it was nice to have nothing but early American life and our ages to discuss. I'm hoping to be one of the few of us who was alive in '85 when Halley's Comet came and still alive in my 90's when it comes again. Some in the room were too old to live that long while others were too young to see it in '85. I kind of had mixed feelings about that - I have old friends and ones that make ME feel old...

Rolling with the punches

2011-04-25T15:11:00.000-06:00

Ever have one of those kind of weeks where at the end of it you have nothing clean to wear and your to-do list has grown rather than shrunk even though you were so busy you are sleep deprived? No? If you haven't let me share what you are missing out on!

Mine started on Wednesday as I drove home from the gym on a night I am usually driving the dance taxi for Big Sister blissfully enjoying our week of Spring Break from both dance and school. I'd just done a killer uphill run and felt amazing with both girls in the car headed for home and bed. And then my phone rang the sexy ringtone for Hubby who was calling with week-changing news. His Dad, who lives hundreds of miles away, is delivering trailers all over the country to satisfy his gypsy blood without having to sacrifice his homestead or retirement and would be arriving at our place in about twelve hours on his way to Oregon. Awesome! We rarely get to see him... wait, what did you say? "I'm going with him" is what he had said. Those four little words almost destroyed my sanity and did destroy everything that resembled a schedule for the rest of the weekend.

Hubby's been working the grave shift this month which means I've gotten to see him for about fifteen minutes each morning and each evening for three to four days a week as we cross one another on our way to and from work. Just the thought of getting to see him and have a two-parent household in the evenings for the rest of the week was the only thing keeping me together at that point of the week. And now he's leaving in the morning with no notice? I immediately went into psycho troubleshooting mode which came across as me being a total bitch about this amazing opportunity for him to get to spend a few days on the road with just him and his dad. Strike one for me.

After salvaging that mis-communication and getting us both into troubleshooting mode, it became even more apparent how this was going to play out for me.... Thursday I had to work, and it was book club night, and Friday I had to work - which is the day Hubby never works so we don't have daycare, and Friday is the day I am supposed to run not once but twice as part of my Ragnar training, and it is Easter weekend... and now you can imagine the extent of the chaos that ensued with no Hubby to help out.

Luckily my Mom is retired and loves spending time with my girls. I feel like I use and abuse her sometimes because I know she is always available at the drop of the hat when I need her. She was willing to extend her normal babysitting hours with the girls on Thursday to all day with a small break to go to dinner with my Dad and then come back to watch the girls until all hours of the night while I went to book club. And our amazing nanny rearranged her schedule - two weeks before her own wedding - to spend all day with the girls on Friday so I could work.

At that point, however, all good things planned like a nazi and executed on schedule came to a grinding halt. Friday I got up at the ass-crack of dawn to run my first run before work with plans to rush home and rush to the gym for the second run before the daycare center at the gym closes early on Friday. That of course didn't happen because let's face it, trying to put a 15-month old on that tight of schedule was never going to work. My morning run sucked - apparently I have no stamina at zero dark thirty when normal people are sleeping. Go figure. After work, I got a rare twenty minutes of just chatting with my nanny about wedding plans that I took advantage of which put us behind schedule. Still salvageable until my mom called with an invite to dinner which turned into "why don't you take the girls and then I won't be rushed at the gym" which took me out of rush mode. Except then she called back saying "just kidding, I didn't know Dad had other plans". At that point I no longer had time to get to the gym and get a run of any distance in before the kid's center closed for the evening so why bother.

Have I expressed yet how much I HATE that the kid's center closes early on Friday night? Don't dictate to me when I should be spending time outside the gym with my kids!

We spent Friday night instead shopping for new clothes for Big Sister to wear for Easter and shoes for the nanny's wedding to match the flower girl dresses, and crap for the Easter baskets. I guess the one good thing about Big Sister having figured out the truth behind Santa and subsequently the Easter Bunny is that - combined with Little Sister being too young to understand or remember much - I got to shop for stuff for their baskets with both of them in tow - something I wouldn't have been able to do without Hubby home that night otherwise.

The rest of the weekend rolled smoothly through and I even enlisted Big Sister to babysit for an hour while I did my missed run from Friday night on Saturday while Little Sister had her nap. Hubby and his Dad drove sixteen hundred miles and arrived back home mid-day Saturday to sleep for about eight hours straight. Enough for them to be well-rested and ready for dinner out followed by Easter festivities on Sunday.

Even with the second weekend in a row of doing no laundry, and no grocery shopping, I still survived the week with my sanity mostly in check thanks to the efforts of others and their willingness to step in and roll with the punches with me. Now it is time to get back to normal day to day activities which is still no easy task for this busy girl on the best of days. If you need me this week, I'll be digging myself out of piles of dirty laundry and hoping to discover hidden snippets of time to work on my damn novel... if I'm lucky! Know what I didn't even miss once? Facebook!

Salvaging and re-working

2011-04-12T10:54:00.000-06:00

Work on the novel continues at the slow speed of life with two kids and a full time job... but it IS continuing which is the only thing that matters! This week I've gone back and taken the almost finished draft from before I decided to start over and began deconstructing it into outline form. The basic story was pretty much hammered out in that draft - at least to the end of the middle - regardless of how poorly it was written in my early days of training to be a good writer. That is the easy part! Then I can outline the key points that have always been swimming around in my head about where the story has to go to reach the end.

But then comes the hard part...

I've been grappling with some massive changes that must be worked out because of some new directions I already know are in store. For instance, I've decided that a different character is going to be kidnapped instead of my main character's daughter. The kidnapping itself was merely a means to an end to get her to follow her daughter's kidnappers and once she got there I never wrote her authentically enough to have a missing daughter; nor could I because there were more important reasons for her to be where I had sent her. So, no daughter kidnapped. Solves the characterization issue but creates a whole bunch of new things to work out. Does she even need a daughter? I don't think so now. But, the daughter is key to several pieces of the puzzle - like the two main characters initial meeting happens because the daughter stumbles across him in the woods and takes him home. If she doesn't exist, how do they meet now without dissolving the believability of one of my favorite scenes written to date? Okay, then maybe the daughter can stay but she isn't the main character's daughter. Maybe she's a niece? But then that requires there to be more than a string of only-children which is how the family dynamics have already been written with an important tie to the matriarchal grandmother who is the key to everything at the end. *sigh*

Like I said, the hard part!

As much as I love some key pieces of discovery writing (where you just write and things happen and hopefully they all work out in the end) I don't want to waste another year of just writing without knowing exactly how the story ends. I need to work out all the background to the story, figure out the way all the characters fit with each other and the major plot points. THEN I can start writing to fill in the blanks and flesh it out with characterization, description and tension. I am a woman on a mission - to finally finish this damn thing! If you need me, I'll be writing... or staring blankly into space trying to figure out how to make it all work so I can start writing again!

Something new to keep things exciting

2011-04-05T23:35:00.000-06:00

I've decided I'm going to start talking about my novel in detail... Perhaps some teasers? I have to have an outlet to keep things fresh and since this is what my blog does usually - plus give me perspective and allow me to vent - what better way to keep me on track and working toward the finish line. So first, a recap of where I started and where I've been up until now...

The first version of my first draft began as my wanting to do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in November of 2008. And ended with me failing miserably and only writing like 5K words. Plus, I found out that while I had a great idea for a story, I didn't know squat about writing. So, I read some books and I started learning more about the art and craft of being a writer. The nuts and bolts if you will. It was this year that my writing group was formed...

My second attempt at NaNoWriMo was the second version of my first draft in 2009 and I won that year with 50,000 words written in 30 days of November. What a crazy year that was! All while I was pregnant, too! This was the best and biggest chunk of story writing to date but it wasn't amazing yet. After I went back and started editing and pulled it out to polish some stuff up to take with me to a writer's convention last year, I realized that I'd written my main character all wrong. Like completely wrong. She's supposed to be this kick ass woman who's daughter gets kidnapped and she was instead this simpering little pussy who I would have hated to read about. She didn't even get that upset when her seven year old daughter was taken. Instead she tags along with the other male character who is from another realm and isn't even freaking out that much.

So, after trying to write something else (okay, anything else) for the 2010 NaNoWriMo I started over yet again - that makes third attempt at the first draft. I wrote some really great new stuff involving the male main character and his other realm but when it came time to write the main female character scenes I stalled. I still didn't know exactly what she was going to be like and I didn't want to fail yet again to capture her perfectly.

And then we had a writing prompt in the writer's group last month which inspired me to write a scene that most likely fits somewhere in the middle of the book. I nailed her character! Being able to just write one scene and figure out how - in one isolated moment - she would react cemented everything for me and now I can go back and start writing her.

So, as soon as I'm done outlining and getting some basics down on where this story is heading so my discovery writing at least has a high level road map to keep me out of the weeds on the side of the road, I'll be starting attempt number four of my first draft. Number. Four. I'm glad I'm stubborn (my mamma didn't raise no quitter!) or I might have thrown in the towel several attempts ago. But, the story and the world I've uncovered within myself wants to get out so the world can read about them. Who am I to argue and complain that it's taking entirely too long?

Why I ever thought that writing a novel would be easy should be shot. (Since I've read so many in my lifetime it should be a piece of cake, right?) Oh wait... that would be suicide, so I guess I'll refrain! Stay tuned for new developments on this journey to a completed first draft which I'm hoping to happen before the end of the year... and yes, I mean THIS year.

New inspiration

2011-03-31T10:24:00.000-06:00

I, now more than ever, want to flog my stupidvisor (no, that is NOT a type-o). I won't bore you with all the idiocy about how many times he says he "will" {fill in the blank}, the future never actually coming to pass; or how yesterday I got to sit across a desk in a one on one meeting and be the one mentoring HIM on how better to lead our team with what I would consider common sense things. No, instead I'm going to tell you about my amazing writer's group who have given me the inspiration I need to *finally* finish my novel and do what I really want to do.

First, I've taken a semi-sabbatical from Facebook. No, I didn't deactivate my account but I took it out of my tabs that auto load every time I open my browser. Now that little tab isn't staring me in the face beckoning me to come and waste valuable time when I sit down to my computer. It's amazing the writing you can get done in fifteen minute chunks of time here and there which would otherwise be wasted just staring at all the links and videos people post trying to sift through to find noteworthy status updates from people you haven't seen in years and who you probably wouldn't recognize if you saw them on the street.

My writing group meeting with our real-life-published-author has really motivated me to get back to writing my novel. Bottom line, the only major difference between her and any of the rest of us is that she actually finished her manuscript and edited and polished it so she could shop it around (a brutal and painful process though it was) and finally land a deal. So, step one: finish my manuscript. Should have been a no-brainer, I know, but hey I've been a busy girl! Doing the writing exercise was amazing. To see things I do in other people's writing and learning from each other... it was a fun night full of learning. And looking back at where we started and how far all of our writing has progressed shows the amount of hard work we've put into learning the craft. You can't go out and run a marathon without training and the last few years for me have been training for the marathon of writing a novel. It's almost race day... I can feel the anticipation. My characters are back, swirling through my head and whispering things to me. I just need to *gasp* outline the basics of the story (I'm a discovery writer mostly) and work out a few more things that happen in the middle to get to the ending I envision and it will be time to hit the starting line. Wish me luck!

If you want it done right, do it yourself...

2011-03-27T15:41:00.000-06:00

I'm very unsatisfied with my day job right now. I have a supervisor who is totally disengaged from the team and is making changes that don't make sense catering to the lowest performers at the expense of those of us who actually do the work. Morale is so low, the only thing keeping me there right now are the amazing benefits and the fitness center which allows me to run during the workday. Seriously, those two things. Pretty shitty, I know.

Am I bitter because I didn't get the job when I applied for it a year and a half ago? I thought so in the beginning but the candidate they hired over me can only earn my respect if he actually does a better job than I would have done at managing the team. Which he hasn't. I think almost two years is enough time to know for sure that he sucks.

So yeah, I guess I am bitter. But do you blame me?

I'm coping by recommitting to my novel. My good friend Christauna just got a publishing deal for her first book so I know it is possible. And she learned everything in the same place as I did - our writer's group. How cool that it started as a few people who wanted to write and started meeting to support one another in our efforts to learn the trade and now there's a real life published author in our midst!

I can't wait for the day that one of two things happen. 1) the idiot supervisor's plan results in a major system outage that puts his ass on the line and gets him fired (or worse, the technical lead decides she's had enough after 30 years); or 2) I get a publishing deal of my own and I can tell them to take this job and shove it so I can just be a writer!

In the meantime, instead of focusing on the negatives and all the bullshit where they are under-utilizing my skill set and hobbling me, the overachiever, with a job I can do with both hands tied behind my back and from which I currently get no job satisfaction, I will focus on how amazing it is to get paid my salary for doing very little and use the downtime and stress-free time to finish my novel.

We'll see how long that lasts...

Spring has sprung... and I'm all over the place

2011-03-21T22:01:00.000-06:00

It's the first official day of spring today! Which is not such a happy time for me since now I get to suffer with seasonal allergies... you'll forgive me if I'm not overjoyed with the rest of the world to be leaving winter behind. I added the allergy pill this weekend to the morning handful of supplements I'm taking now thanks to my nutritionist. I don't really have anything to bitch about today so instead I'll regale you with what's been happening in my crazy day to day life.

First, the nutritionist... What a lovely and totally-worth-the-price addition to my life! Turns out when I started actually tracking what I'm eating I was only giving my body about 800 calories a day. That on top of working out all the time is NOT a good way to lose weight. After a week of properly fueling my body for basic living as well as all the exercise, I not only feel better but I've started to see the number on the scale inching down. No, lovely doesn't begin to describe it - it's fucking amazing! Knowledge is power, people. Remember that!

Next, running... It's no secret I'm in full swing of my intense training routine for my upcoming relay race. The organizers put together two training programs and I figured they should know better than I what kinds of things I need to prepare for so I'm following them. The first is for a beginner who "hasn't been doing any running". Well, that doesn't apply to me and good thing since it has running in MINUTE increments. I'm used to MILE increments. The other one, "for the runner who is already running an average of 10-20 miles a week", was more my speed so I picked that one. Well apparently if you slack for a week and then try to pick up where you are supposed to be, it results in strained knees. After my disastrous attempted run last week I rested up and bitched a lot about why I was semi-injured this week. Because I'm a data and gadget geek, I could go back to my logged data and see that I had actually doubled my mileage the week before with the warmer weather allowing me to run outdoors in the evenings instead of at work in my measly hour I'm allowed to squeeze out of my workday. Oopsie! Happily, I only needed to rest a bit and I felt amazing on my outdoor run yesterday. Back on track and paying attention now. Must stay healthy!

And finally, writing... I haven't been doing much writing lately unless you count my humble blog here. Let's face it, my life just doesn't have enough hours in it to do much more at the moment. My writer's group has changed things up a bit this year and to keep up writing we are now doing writing prompts which will allow us to focus on specific tools (like dialog, description, etc.) and improve without having to commit to completing a manuscript. I have one I have to work on this week and the thought of it makes me happy. The one of us in said writing group who actually has been writing the past year just got signed with a publisher. I'm ecstatic for her - and truth be told just a little bit jealous. Knowing that the dream can be, in fact, reality if you work hard at it (and write a damn good book) makes me want to write more than I have been. I need to find a way to multi-task my writing into my life like I did with reading. Which, by the way, have you noticed that there are more than book club books in my list of books I've read so far this year? I LOVE being a reader again - thank you audible.com! If only I wouldn't look (and sound) like a freak dictating a book while I'm running. And if only voice recognition software would work with a heavy breathing runner. A girl's got to dream, right?

The Aquariums of Pyongyang

2011-03-18T14:43:00.000-06:00

This was a book club selection I never would have picked up on my own but am so glad I read it. What a horrifying account of atrocities that are happening in MY lifetime and continue to happen today. A glimpse into the life behind the curtain of North Korea that left me disturbed and morally outraged. This fascinating memoir by Kang Chol-Hwan tells the story of a nine year old boy who is sent to a labor camp for ten years with his family for political crimes against the state committed by his grandfather. In the telling of his personal story - which rivals on many levels the picture we have as Westerner's of the concentration camps of WWII Germany - he also shows the true life struggle of the everyday world under the dictatorship of North Koreans and the propaganda of their form of Communism. I was appalled that I was not aware of the real story of North Korea and urge everyone and anyone to read this book. Because the details of the camp are stark and horrific, it isn't a book for young children but it is not graphic in the telling; merely sad and compelling. I love history lessons in the form of a story I can sink into like a good novel and this is one of those rare kind of gems.

The book club discussion last night was heated with politics that most of the time had not much to do with what was actually in the book. Thanks to one of the outspoken ones among us, we were steered back about mid-way through the evening to the real person we had read about who had gone through these horrid things and risked much to tell the world about his ordeal. Surprisingly, no one went away angry after the, at times, very heated discussion which is a testament of just what a great book club I have!

Best laid plans and the destruction of serenity

2011-03-16T23:53:00.001-06:00

Today was a rare day... a day just for ME! Well, kind of... more like a couple of hours in the afternoon but hey, I'm a Mom, I'll take what I can get, right? Big Sister had her annual talent show at school this morning and while I tried to make it work for me to go to work AND make it to support her, logistically it just wasn't going to happen so I took the whole day off at the last minute. Our amazing nanny spent the day with Little Sister as planned which meant that after I got home from the talent show at noon, I had five glorious hours to do whatever I wanted.

I filled the first hour with a good lunch and a chat with the nanny who it feels like I haven't talked to for ages except for snippets of instructions and reports as we pass each other in the morning and evening. The plan for the afternoon was a seven mile run which I had plenty of time for and which I was going to do outside. Until I was all dressed and ready to go and realized that was the wind howling in the eaves and banging against the windows I was hearing and decided it would be miserable. So, I changed my running gear configuration for the indoor apparel and headed for the gym instead. Still on schedule for a great two hours to be spent with my current audio book on the iPod and a treadmill followed by a relaxing "soak" in the sauna.

That was the plan, anyway. What actually happened only slightly resembled that plan. I stretched, I warmed up, I was stoked for the run, the iPod was going, I was already anticipating the endorphins and the joy that comes with running and the smile to hit my face... and then I ramped up the treadmill and immediately was wincing in pain. No matter what I did, my knees were both killing me with every step and I couldn't run through it like I usually can after the first few minutes. I was limping and I knew it would never happen, and actually shouldn't or I was asking for an injury. So I struggled through a mile - because I can't sync my run with Nike and publish it to Facebook without at LEAST a mile, right? - and threw in the towel. Well, I could still sit in the sauna - which I did and that was amazing but I felt like I was wasting my valuable time when I could be doing something different. So, I grabbed my mid-afternoon snack in the cafe with a book I just happened to have tucked into my gym bag because you never know when you might need a book.

But the music at the gym is loud and piped in everywhere. I couldn't concentrate on my book. My mind started wandering and thinking about how appealing tucking myself into a quiet corner of somewhere - anywhere - and just reading for an hour sounded. Decadent, actually. But where?

The library! I'll go to the library!

Actually, the first thought was a coffee shop but how insane is it that there isn't a single coffee shop between the gym and the library which is a ten mile drive? So, the library it is.

I don't know about you, but the library in my mind evokes images of hushed and whispering old ladies and plastic covered books being checked out; images from childhood of my mother and every other adult around me shushing me if I even thought of raising my voice to a normal pitch instead of the whisper required for the hallowed halls of the library. A soothing and peaceful hour with a good book in that kind of space was exactly what I was craving.

What I got was a big slap in the face of reality.

Know what I found at my neighborhood library? People who didn't give a shit that they were in a library. People who were talking to each other like they were in the aisle at the Walmart or worse, their own kitchens. People who were NOT instilling in their offspring any reverence for the building they were inside of - when you are talking to your child in a loud inside voice from halfway down the aisle, they aren't going to think anything of using their outside voice to answer you. I had the audacity to shush one little boy - approximate age 4 - and he glared at me with daggers shooting from his eyes. I smiled with my finger against my lips while his Dad - who had pulled his head out of the computer screen he'd been sucked into most likely by the absence of noise from his snot-nose little brat - said "Carter, she's just asking you to be quiet in the library." To which the lovely Carter responded - loudly - "I don't like being quiet" and ran off. Minutes later the same twosome could be heard playing their version of Marco Polo through the stacks because Dad couldn't find Carter and apparently Carter was now scared that he'd run away and couldn't see Dad anymore. At the same time, the reference desk, which was about 20 feet from the chair I'd picked because of the low height of it's seat in relation to the floor for added comfort appeal for my short legs, was manned by a woman of the appropriate old lady hair variety but without the appropriate library tone to match. She was having a conversation with a co-worker that had nothing to do with the library and which sounded more like gossip than a conversation and they were talking so loud that I actually found myself shushing THEM. When they didn't notice, I left the area in search of somewhere a bit more out of the way.

Location number two I should have known better than to pick but when I approached the kids corner with the love sacks all deserted and beckoning with it's quietness, I couldn't resist. That comfy spot lasted all of about five minutes until the idiot mother with her five kids in tow herded them all to the area to talk - LOUDLY - about all the books they had picked and review their selections before heading to the checkout desk. I might have mumbled some obscenities under my breath as I leaped up and headed for another corner. I don't quite remember, but I hope I did!

Location three lasted a bit longer - it was a nice, quiet corner with an equally aged adult, her books sprawled across a table, clearly and intently studying and lost in thought. I sat down, got comfy, got engaged in my book, and then there was a dog lose in the library. I kid you not. A. DOG. And of course the dog ended up with me, don't ask me why. He must have sensed that I was looking for some peace and viewed me as a kindred spirit. After the workers collected the dog - but not before they sat next to me trying to read the tags and made a LOT of noise - I had another few minutes of somewhat quiet where the din of the library patrons was only slightly intruding on the edges of my hearing.

And then the baby started crying.

And by crying, I really mean wailing - at the top of it's lungs.

And didn't stop for what seemed like ten minutes.

Enough that the other girl sitting there with her sprawled books trying to study turned to me in disgust to say "so much for a quiet library!" (So see, I'm not over exaggerating here!)

At that point, I officially threw in the towel and headed back home to mom-land... where I proceeded to make certain that Big Sister knows that she is always supposed to be quiet in a library and can expect to be shushed and beaten if she ever isn't. Did I miss a memo somewhere that states since the majority of people are now all loud Americans who never know when to shut our pie holes that we are no longer required to do so at the library? Or was it just an off day at my neighborhood branch? I guess it doesn't really matter because next time I will drive out of my way to find that quiet coffee shop instead regardless of how inconvenient.

Thank you, today's library patrons, for ruining the library for me as anything more than a place to walk in, pick up a hold from the shelf and leave. The craziest part? The teenagers in the 'booths' at the back were the best ones in the joint! All you adults should be ashamed of yourselves!

Emotional setbacks and rediscovery

2011-03-07T21:14:00.001-07:00

It has been a roller coaster of emotions for me the last few weeks in the physical fitness department. Topped off with a seriously depressing climax last week. And as I've said before I wouldn't be an honest blogger if I didn't share the bad times as well as the good. So here goes....

Remember Hubby and I both started HCG together and quit early because neither could give up the gym and are training for the same upcoming relay race. I'm so glad we're both committed to living more healthily since it would be much harder to make healthy choices alone - which I've had to do in the past. Plus, it is amazing to see a smile on his face now that he can play basketball again - something he thought would never happen with a bad back and recent ACL replacement. He was always very active before his injuries and it's no surprise that he bounced back quickly. He's lost thirty pounds and is back to looking like the Greek god I married sixteen years ago.

All well and good except when I find myself comparing my slower results (which makes them feel like non-results) to his lickety-split total body transformation. And feeling very jealous. And resentful. Such a girl response, I know.

Seriously, I'm happy for him. Except I also hate him for it because it was so quick and easy while I work my ass of for less noticeable results.

Last month I worked with a trainer who laid out all my workouts for me and kept me accountable with weekly communication on how I'd stuck with it. And I made it a very conscious choice to cut out all the bad stuff that I know I shouldn't eat - like desserts at lunch and sweets at night. I felt like it made a huge difference. Lifting weights has my upper body noticeably if not visibly leaner - I had to tighten my chest strap on my heart rate monitor, I can fit my upper arms in a shirt I've been hoarding and hoping to wear eventually and I can fit more comfortably in my bras. (Yah, less back fat!) So when it came time last week to see my trainer and do my assessment to see my progress in numbers and data I was less than happy to see that nothing had changed. Nothing. And according to her I'd actually gained body fat in my body composition. How the hell does that happen? I lifted weights three times a week, ran 15-20 miles a week on average and your numbers say that I gained fat? What the fuck?

I won't lie. There were tears... There was more than one f-bomb... There were several outbursts with the words "bull shit". All born from frustration since I expected it to be much better news after such efforts. And after working this hard I want results like Hubby has, damn it!

I partially feel bad for my poor trainer who, two months in a row now, has had me in tears at our monthly assessment appointments. Last month she talked me into signing up with her for a month of coaching. Which didn't work. And this month got me scheduled for my RMR testing - Resting Metabolic Rate - which I did Saturday and led to me signed up for a 9-week program with a nutritionist. (It makes sense... I'm exercising six times a week, both cardio and weights, and I should be dropping the weight like Hubby. Since I'm not, I have to look at the nutritional aspect of it. Preliminary discussions with both the trainer and the nutritionist have them thinking that I'm under eating. Lovely... then where's the cookies?) But I also am a bit unhappy with my trainer for not first focusing on the good things that I had to find out for myself by looking at my data AFTER I got home. My upper body strength rating has gone from 50 to 63 in just one month. My sit and reach rating has gone from 10 to 12 in a month. My VO2 lung capacity has gone from 27 to 29 - in a month! But what did we focus on? Just the bad... I was disappointed looking back since that's not the kind of motivation I want or need.

At the same time, something a good friend said had me wondering. She made the comment that she thought her trainer fudged her numbers to get her to sign up for more training. Fudged as in made them sound better than she thought they were. I'm sure she said it in jest but the logical animal that I am started analyzing my data collecting. The body composition number is calculated by a three-site skin fold reading with calipers. They have a fancy shmancy one attached to a computer plus cheesy manual ones. I've done these readings three times now. The first time, sites one and two were computer read, the third manual (since I had my slippery pants on and it kept sliding off). The second time, all three sites were computer read (no slippery pants). This last time, all three were manual readings. I'm thinking that the inconsistency of the data collection not ever being the exact same method has to be a factor. Right? Plus, why is this the only thing measured? Oh, and two of the sites are skin to caliper but the other is over my pants? Seems less than scientific in my mind.

It's human to want to have some external factor to blame and I'm not discounting that this train of thought might just be rationalization. If it is, I'm fine with that. This is just my ranting and raving and trying to deal with the shit my way anyway, right?

Thank god I'm an analytical, data-hungry girl and for years now have done basically quarterly and sometimes monthly measurements. These measurements - in my handy dandy spreadsheet - give me valuable insight into how my efforts are actually paying off. While I wanted to just throw in the towel, say to hell with it all and grab a pint of ice cream with a side of girl scout cookies (because either way I'm not losing weight!) instead I did my monthly measurements. Because despite it all I was curious.

I'm so glad I did! Guess what - I've lost inches everywhere except my thighs which have stayed the same. AND, I'm thinner according to the measurements than I was at my lowest scale weight a year ago. Which means I've added twenty pounds of pure muscle thanks to my efforts over the past year. Go me! Definitely not the dismal picture painted by the earlier skewed or at least questionable numbers.

Another aspect of my roller coaster ride came to light last week when I realized that I no longer look forward with joyous anticipation to my runs. Really? I love to run! I used to wake up in the morning and immediately start thinking about when I was going to get to run that day. Now I've skipped a couple due to lack of motivation. So I started taking stock and trying to determine what is different. The only thing that has changed is that instead of just running and concentrating on how many miles I need to run, I've been doing what the trainer has told me to do for heart rate zone training. I am a short girl at five foot two inches with squatty legs, which means I can't run very fast anyway. And now I'm having to run slower to keep my heart rate in the "right" zone. My legs hurt more from running slower and I'm just not having any fun when I have to worry about how high my heart rate is going. I thought it was worth it because keeping my heart rate in the proper zone to burn more fat was the goal. But it clearly hasn't given me the trade off I was expecting.

Yesterday it all changed. I headed out on an eight mile run. Before I left I mapped out my route using the MapMyRun website. I strapped on my heart rate monitor so I could make sure I stayed in zone two and three so I was at least aerobic in my efforts. I charged up my iPod for an hour so it would have a full battery for the two hours it was required to play for. And I fired up my cool new app on my Droid phone to see exactly how far I went according to GPS so I could calibrate my Nike+ foot sensor when I got back - because I don't think it is calculating my mileage accurately lately. Yes, I'm a gadget geek. Are you really surprised?

Halfway through my chilly, mildly rainy run, right after it turned mostly uphill with a headwind... yeah, it was not really fun at that point... my heart rate monitor stopped registering on my watch. I tried to fiddle with the strap through my clothes and finally gave up. About ten minutes later my GPS lost the signal from the satellite so no data to calibrate with my foot sensor. SHIT! Twenty minutes later after forty minutes of sustained uphill - have I mentioned how much I hate uphill running? - with the wind strongly blowing into my face I stopped, screamed FUCK YOU into the wind at the top of my lungs, and turned around to go back the way I came instead of finishing out my loop. About five minutes later my iPod battery died.

Seriously? Are you kidding me?!?! EVERY. SINGLE. GADGET. With the exception of my Nike+ which I was questioning before I even left.

Turns out, it was the Universe talking to me...

With no gadgets to obsess about, no hill to be running up and the wind at my back I rediscovered how much I love to run. Just run. Not caring about how fast my damn heart is beating. Because guess what, if it is beating too high and I'm up in the anaerobic regions I get out of breath and I naturally slow down. And who cares how far I go when I go except for bragging rights on Facebook and Twitter and as a way to gauge how soon I'll need a new pair of running shoes. Without the iPod distraction I even noticed the wheat fields and horse corrals I was running past which I have only vaguely registered before. That horse running around the corral? It was super pretty with it's mane and tail swishing spiritedly. Thank you, Universe... I'm listening.

I'm going back to basics and, other than the nutritionist, I'm not dropping any more money in personal training and gimmicks at the gym. I'm a smart girl... I can google workouts for weight training and I can read articles on how to improve speed and endurance for my running. Hell, there's probably an app for that, too, I just have to look! And without all the pressure to perform perfectly I might just relax and have some fun while I'm at it.

So while this particular roller coaster ride of emotions had me feeling more down than up, I have turned it around and am re-focused on me and the things that I want to do. Do I still secretly hate hearing that number read off joyously every morning when Hubby steps on the scale? Of course... I'm a chick! But it doesn't have to stab me in the heart anymore because I know how exciting it is to see results and I want that for him as much as I want it for me. Maybe the stress released by this decision will free up some of my stubborn fat cells... they say stress will inhibit weight loss after all. Either way, here's to a much more enjoyable month ahead with more measurable results for my efforts!

Music fuels the soul

2011-03-01T20:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not one of those people who knows a ton about all different kinds of music. All the music I own doesn't even fill up my 30 gig iPod (pathetic, I know!). I listen to NPR (that's National Public Radio for the acronym challenged since I hate bloggers who assume everyone who is reading knows exactly what their acronyms mean...) NPR is talk radio without left or right leaning spin - you know, the news as it used to be where they could only tell you the facts and let you make your own decision about how you felt about it? Oh wait... I digress! We were talking music not politics or the media. My point being that when I'm in the car, which is the only time I listen to the radio, it isn't music I'm listening to. I'm not one of those people who knows every band on the planet and where each is from and where they got their musical inspiration. Although I know some people who are like that and they intimidate the hell out of me. Hell, I usually can't even name the band let alone the album the song was originally released on.

Even so, I have what I like to consider an eclectic mix of music. I'm a child of the 80's and 90's and lots of my music hails from these time periods - from Madonna to hair bands and rock ballads. But I also have things that I grew up listening to - I love CCR (Creedence Clearwater Revival) thanks to my Daddy (and if truth be told the Beach Boys, too although I don't actually have any of their stuff on my iPod) and the Carpenters thank to my Mom. I am musical myself - played piano growing up which enabled me to take up the guitar as a teen which led to a stint in a garage band in my early 20's - so I also love classical music. LOVE LOVE LOVE it. So, yeah, I listen to everything - well, except country because that is not music in my book and I never understood the genre. I even - reluctantly - like some of the music I'm hearing because of Big Sister like Selena Gomez and Miranda Cosgrove. Don't judge. I like some old-school rap thanks to my younger brothers, well, mostly just Eminem which makes no sense really. My most embarrassing resident on the iPod is Barry Manilow but god I love singing along to him. If asked to pick my favorite I tend to like heavy and loud the best - Metallica, Kiss, Disturbed, Marilyn Manson. But I also love Sarah McLachlan and Matchbox Twenty and Avril Levine. I can't get enough of bad-girl P!nk and anyone else who can belt out a great set of lyrics to heavy riffs. I never got into show tunes - unless you count the Grease Soundtrack which is on there, too. And the list goes on and on. Every song representing a time in my life or a feeling it evokes when I hear it.

So, what's the point, you ask?

Yesterday I had the most amazing thing happen.

Work has become a cesspool of idiocy where I'm surrounded by slackers who don't do much to actually earn the paycheck they collect every other week. I might have mentioned this before. Instead of work happening all around me, talking and gossiping and visiting is happening. ALL. DAY. It's one of the reasons why I prefer to work with men but, alas, the team is primarily women. It's gotten bad lately mostly I think due to a lack of leadership from the puffed up smidgen of blow fish shit we call a supervisor. If it isn't the unchecked womenfolk and their quilting bee bullshit, it's the guy on the next row over hacking up a lung and farting - not that I'm innocent of public farting occasionally myself but usually it isn't of the trumpeting variety - or the other guy who cackles like a woman when he gets nervous. Which seems to be all the time. The only way I've found to stave off the urge to step outside my cubicle and shout "SHUT THE FUCK UP" at the top of my lungs is to escape to the heaven of my iPod and Skull Candy ear buds. Luckily I can still concentrate on the technical details of my job with metal blaring in my ears.

So what made yesterday so different than the countless days before it? I'll tell you.

I had been listening to my latest audiobook on my run (which is heaven, by the way) and didn't have the time necessary to figure out what music I was in the mood for before my top blew so I fumbled for the "shuffle songs" selection and left it up to chance. What ensued was the most magical twenty five minutes. Every song the iPod selected for me fit my mood like a glove. I found myself so distracted by the music that instead of allowing me to focus on my work it had me sitting and dancing in my chair hoping I could contain my urge to sing along out loud. The genre's were different - Duran Duran, Violent Femmes, P!nk, KISS, 30 Seconds to Mars - but they were all songs that I loved, hadn't listened to in ages and which , yesterday, were the exact mix of music I needed to soothe my soul.

I don't know what it is about music that can transport me to a time or a feeling so completely but damn I'm glad it works that way for me. And although I know my beautiful (yet old school) iPod is merely an inanimate object I love that it knows - at least some of the time - exactly what I need even when I don't know it myself. IPod, I love you! And thank you for keeping me out of the HR office this week even though I just realized it's only Tuesday...

Love Your Body... Challenge

2011-02-26T11:41:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about this post all week, prompted by a random friend of a friend who posted on Facebook about her and her sister discussing how all women hate their bodies and wondering how to turn it around with their own daughters who, when asked, couldn't come up with a single thing they loved about their bodies. So, this week became the Love Your Body Challenge Week - you know, like when something makes you think and then you can't stop thinking about it? And then it takes on the all capitals version in your head? Yeah, like that.

First, the good news - I asked Big Sister the question and am very happy to report she had a long list of things she liked about her body which included legs and stomach and all the things that most women wouldn't love. I was worried she would, at the tender age of nine, already have a complex about all sorts of things. Especially since just last week she said "I'm fat, Mommy" while patting her lean little - extremely flat - dancer tummy. Yeah, right... NOT! Which prompted a twenty minute discussion about how just because other girls at dance have different bodies and shapes she is definitely NOT fat. I didn't even have to resort to Google to find images of obesity to illustrate my point. Thank god! *shudder* We do watch Biggest Loser after all, maybe that is helping?

But then I started thinking about my own body. And how I don't really love it. And how obsessed I am about changing practically everything about it. And how I've basically been on a diet for the last twenty years. It WAS a challenge to find more than one thing that I like about my body. The first thing was easy: I. LOVE. MY. RACK. Yes, that rack. I have an awesome rack and even after two babies it still kicks ass. But beyond that, what is there really to love? I don't have a flat stomach - yet. I don't have lean and amazing legs - yet. I don't even have great shoulders or upper arms - yet. But all these things I hate are getting better slowly and I have no doubt that at some point (hopefully in the near future) my efforts at the gym will transform everything about my body that I still don't completely love. See, that list was effortless - which is kind of the point.

So, here are all the things that I DO love about my body - which will take you moments to read and which took me an entire week to come up with, which is kind of pathetic but hey, a step in the right direction, right?

1. I have amazingly strong legs. Legs that can run for 10 miles on any given Sunday and (at least once) 13.1 miles of a half-marathon.
2. I have beautiful green eyes.
3. I have awesome and thick naturally curly hair. The fact that my unruly curls are in the love vs. hate column is a miracle in itself. I spent 36 years straightening every day and loathing everything about my hair. Now, I have embraced my curls. I even appreciate how my long dark locks curl on their own with no effort on my part. It literally takes me 5 minutes in the morning now that I have found the right combination of NOT combing after the shower and the proper hair products. It's also a perk that my hair is thick and "big" enough with the curls that I can run 5 miles, look like a sweaty pig, take the pony tail out, shake, and go. Voile! All the bigness covers up the inch of sweat at the scalp. Beautiful!
4. I have cute ears that don't stick out.
5. I have great lungs - hey, that's part of my body, right? And without them, I couldn't run so they count.
6. I have a nice nose - which knowing that I'm Italian and could have gotten Dad's shnoz is much more of a perk than you might think.
7. I already mentioned the rack, right? My all natural D's should be at the very top of the list but I don't want to seem like an obsessed porn queen.
8. I have great eye lashes - long and thick and dark.
9. I have great lips - not too full, not too thin, and great for kissing.
10. I have great proportions to my body. When I tone it all up, it will be amazing. My torso is the perfect length, my shoulders are narrow, I'm not too tall and not too short.

I challenged myself to come up with ten things. Some are smaller things than others and I wish I could go on and on about all the great parts of my body but most of them are still covered in a thin layer of fat which has me still not loving them. But, underneath that last twenty or so pounds my muscles are getting stronger and more defined and hopefully by summer swimsuit weather I will have a much longer list of things I love. It is getting easier to look appreciatively in the mirror and notice the results of my efforts. And, it's already time for new jeans since all the ones I own are getting saggy in the butt. And I had to tighten the chest strap on my heart rate monitor last week because it wasn't working anymore. Some days the proof is in the pants, some days it's in the chest strap. I'll take whatever proof I can get. The scale is still just a number that doesn't define me - I want to be fit and muscled, not thin and waif-y after all.

So, what do you love about your body? And if you have an easier time listing the things you hate, I challenge you to find ten things you love. Yes, your eyes and toes can count! Here's to focusing on the good in all of us and leaving the super model ideal to the professionals - there are only like nine of them in the world after all so why would that be considered the norm anyway?

Serves you right!

2011-02-14T23:45:00.000-07:00

And just like that, we're back to bitchy... Last week I had a passive aggressive episode in the gym that got me thinking. My life is so crazy that it takes having a membership at two different gyms to make my commitment to training actually workable. Half the week I'm at THE GYM (queue angels singing) and the other I'm at the fitness center at work. Luckily I have both, but the mix of people at work is... well, somewhat different. There are a lot of people who only use it for 15 minute increments while on their break and still in their work clothes. I understand that it IS better than nothing but it is a very different commitment level than those who make time to do a full workout including sweating enough we need to change clothes. I mean, it's one thing to go for a walk during your break but to have an entire fitness center on the premises and not utilize it fully? What a waste!

I admit I get a bit of entertainment watching them come and go on the treadmills and elliptical machines and there's one... um... girl... in particular who stands out among the rest. Why? Because she comes in every day, dressed in her skirts and knee-high boots AND jacket or blazer - crazy enough by itself. But what's more crazy is the choice of television while she's at it. At a glance I'd say she's in her twenties - early to middle - and yet she's watching TV that my nine year old likes. We're talking Nickelodeon and ABC Family and even the Disney Channel. Laughable really and at times I find it hard not to do so out loud.

So back to last week's episode... I'm on the treadmill sweating like a pig, jamming to some Marilyn Manson doing intervals: two minutes of "normal" running followed by a minute of sprinting. Because I have my iPod and there were only iPod-ers there when we started I turned the television off (yes, people, there's an off switch on those things!) and dropped the remote into the cup holder on my left. Half an hour into my workout, teeny bop girl walks in and climbs on the treadmill to my immediate right and starts looking around for the remote for the TV hanging directly above my treadmill. I'm watching out of the corner of my eye and I know exactly when she finds it. Even if I hadn't been watching, I would have known because at that point she started STARING at me. Like craning your neck and staring at me from just within my peripheral vision is the same as asking for the fucking remote? Seriously, it was creepy and it went on for the entire time she worked out. I kept thinking she would ask me and after a while it became apparent that she wasn't going to and I thought 'Oh, you think I can't outlast your childish stare down? You are wrong chicky!'

Like clockwork, ten minutes later she turned off her treadmill and headed back to her time-clock punching job (God I'm glad I don't have to do that!) until the next day. I'm sure she was totally pissed that she'd missed out on her tween show while she went for her leisurely stroll but here's the kicker - I would have gladly given her the remote if she'd just opened her mouth and asked me for it. I even gave her an opening when one of my friends got finished with her cardio and headed for the locker room as I turned and said goodbye - after she'd gotten my attention from my tunes that is.

The snotty bitch in me gloated that I had outlasted the childish stare down after I got over how creepy it all was. But then I started thinking about the greater tragedy of the whole thing. You see, that girl is in her twenties and still doesn't know how to ask for what she wants. Not the remote in the gym, probably not with her job, most likely not even with her friends - and God knows how unhappy she probably is in the sack! Tragic, really but until she learns that life lesson she will continue to be frustrated everywhere she turns. Unable to voice her own desires, she will continue to be thwarted in all she does - usually by bitches like me who know exactly what we want and aren't afraid to ask - no, DEMAND - what we want both in action and in words.

I made sure to rush home and work this life lesson into a conversation with Big Sister so she hears at an early age how important it is to stand up and ask for whatever it is that you want most. This is something big enough not to be left to that old 'lead by example' bullshit. There's too much objectivity in that approach to be trusted implicitly in all things. Although, I have no fear she will see it enforced daily through my actions. Later she will thank me when she has a life that she wants and everything as she likes it with her husband and her own children. And if I see the Disney chick attempting the stare down again, I might just tell her "it serves you right for not asking!"

Friends and balance

2011-02-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

You've heard it, I'm sure - the old adage that true friends are hard to come by, usually followed by some flowery stuff about holding onto them and how you must forward this on to prove you have them blah blah blah. (Who ever thought up the idea of email chain letters seriously needs to be shot!) I may not be that sappy, or gullible, but I do know the value of a true friend. One who let's you say whatever you are thinking - even the most bitchy of comments - and they are sitting there nodding their head in agreement or better yet saying the same thing at the same time. Or if they didn't say it, they love that you had the audacity to say it for them. A friend who is as good to you as you are to them and who you can count on for anything you need, whenever you need it.

I've been thinking quite a lot about friends lately.

I have a ton of friends, in lots of different categories, that I've picked up along the journey of my life as I'm sure everyone does. The friends from work who fade away when you no longer work together who you kind of recognize while you're out at lunch in the area; but the more time that's passed the less likely you are to say hello and then even when you're tempted, like yesterday, you don't because you can't remember their name. The friends you do things socially with which also changes over time since people mature (or don't), get divorced or married, have kids (or don't) and the things you do socially changes. The crazy loons I used to hang out with in my twenties wouldn't last two minutes with me now but I thought they were fun back when I didn't know any better. Childhood and high school friends - mostly made possible by Facebook for me. While I don't actually see them often outside the realm of FB I do get to see them living their lives and even sometimes comment and share old memories. Neighborhood friends, book club friends, writing friends, running friends - all sharing common interests and daily life happenings. True friends - those who no matter how long between spending time together never miss a step. I have a handful of these and I cherish the stolen cups of coffee bitching about life and work, cleansing lunches venting away all our troubles with our common views of life, annual poker games, conversations where we check each others sanity just to be sure it is still intact, phone calls staying in touch over the miles that separate, etc. My favorite are the ones who serendipitously enter your life - the parents of your kid's best friend, neighbors with so many things in common it's like they are clones of you, and people collected along the way who, when pressed, you can't even remember how you became friends because it feels like you just always have been. My very best friend is Hubby - and even if I had no other, that would be enough for me. Luckily, I also have siblings and parents and sisters-in-law I count as friends and who I couldn't live without. I even have friends who I didn't really want: the wives of hubby's buddy's - some who I had to endure through countless nights of not being able to hold their liquor, parents of Big Sister's friends at school who play-dates must be coordinated through, fellow dance mom's thrown together because our kids dance on the same team - although some also fit in the other categories after the fact, too, and the list goes on and on.

I'm particularly excited for an upcoming reunion with the three friends I hung out with the most and the longest in school. I haven't seen any of them in years and one I haven't seen since graduation who is returning home for a visit. We're getting the gang back together to catch up - fitting since I don't believe any of us made it to the twenty year reunion last summer. Again, thank you Facebook without whom it wouldn't be possible!

So with all these friends, the questions of the week are: 1) why spend time with people who I can't really be myself with? And 2) at what point do you just say 'No, thank you' to invitations and never give it another thought?

Here's a revelation about my true nature: I am a home body if left to my own devices. Seriously, I hope this doesn't surprise you. I work eight hours a day Monday through Friday and have to come home to be Mommy - another full time job. I run around most nights driving dance studio shuttle while juggling our social life and a toddler, I work out six days a week between the fitness center at work and our amazing gym, I have a book club and a writer's group that meet regularly, I have two different groups of women friends who make it a habit of getting together for dinner on a regular basis... you get the picture, right? And when I have a free evening or weekend what I really want to do - almost 100% of the time - is stay home with my husband and my kids AND DO NOTHING.

Lately, I haven't had the opportunity to do this much and it's starting to wear on my nerves. My life is so out of whack that my kid is wearing clothes from the very back of the closet because I simply don't have time to get the laundry done on a regular basis. We are talking the shirts that should NOT have made it through the last clean-out but were saved either at her pleading or because she might be able to wear it camping instead of ruining a nice shirt. With no time to recharge my own inner self, I can barely communicate effectively with Hubby and I am short with my kids way too often. So, starting today, this minute, I vow to start spending time with my favorite friend - myself - and not feeling bad about turning down invitations. Because when I try and spread myself too thin I only wind up hurting myself and those I love.

As for people who I have little in common with, just because they are nice and around doesn't mean that I have to spend tons of time with them. Because for me, to find myself just going through the motions of enjoying myself and then bitching about the loss of time that I could have been doing something I really WANTED or NEEDED to do later just because I didn't want to say "No" one more time is so not worth it. The bitch is rearing her ugly head and screaming "NO MORE!" Do I care that I will sound like a broken record that "sorry, we're busy"? Not for one second because guess what? I am! Always! Does this mean I won't ever spend time with people in this category who want to spend time with me? No. It just means I will be more selective in accepting invitations from now on.

I consider this new commitment as my way of staying sane trying to keep up with doing everything I've chosen to cram into my life in order to make it a full and fulfilling one while staying balanced within myself. Call it grounding, if you will... I'll be finding more time for doing nothing which will make me so much happier while I'm doing everything else!

To Baby Sister on her first birthday

2011-02-03T15:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Baby Sister,

Please read this and know that I, in fact, DO love you as much as your older sister even though you did not get even an attempt at a baby book documenting your first year, I have not scrapbooked a single page about your life, and I only got your pictures professionally taken once after that initial shoot at the hospital this past year. I know that in the angst of your teen years you will look back on these facts - facts which I do not dispute - and somehow use them against me as proof that your Daddy and I don't love you. Here is proof that it is not true that I can then throw back at you - although if you remain as much like me as I fear, it won't matter anyway.

When your sister was born we didn't really know what we were doing. So we did all the things that "people" said were important and looking back were kind of a waste of money in most cases. Your sister, yes, has a baby book but it isn't even filled out all the way. Don't believe me? Go check. Your sister, yes, had her photos taken at Kiddie Kandids like every three months but they are all still sitting in the envelope rotting away since we always bought way too many. I was a photographer for many years, your snapshots ARE professional photos and there are tons of them. Your sister, yes, has pages in a scrapbook with things that happened but it ends at about 9months old when I decided it was a losing battle to learn to love doing it. And you know what? We didn't actually do as many things back then as you are getting to do. You see, both of your parents are older and wiser and have figured out what is important in life. So now, instead of sitting around eating processed food and watching life go by while you smile pretty for the camera and play nearby while I scrapbook, we are doing things as a family like going to the gym, hiking, taking trips to visiting family and see the country. And even better, we are playing with you on the floor because we can. So hopefully you will understand and look back on the memories we are making together as a family and cherish them as much as I do.

Love,
Mommy

When Mommy's sick, ain't no one happy!

2011-02-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

There is nothing worse than being under the weather and unable to do everything - especially for me! (I wonder how many sentences I've ever started with those words "there is nothing worse"... I might have to add the label over-exaggerator to the list I've given myself!) I'm typically a very healthy person. Even when Hubby gets sick I avoid catching it. When the kids get sick, I avoid catching it. But, the last three weeks I have succumbed - over and over again. First a bout of pink-eye that started on Saturday morning three weeks ago and was quickly bad enough that I spent Sunday morning in the urgent care getting eye drops and suffered with no make-up in public for another week. The very next weekend - a day after I returned to the land of make-up, I spent Sunday with a 24-hour stomach flu - I'll spare you the gory details on that one! And now, I have a chest/head cold that started last Saturday - the very next weekend. I'm hoping I will be better soon but who knows how long it will linger.

While all this sickness is bad on it's own, it is doubly bad - at least for me - knowing that Sundays are my treasured long-run days. The one day a week that Hubby has the kids and I get at least two hours of uninterrupted bliss with nothing but my running shoes and an iPod play list where I get to de-stress from the week. You can imagine how shitty life is when Mommy doesn't get her de-stress day three weeks in a row!

THREE. WEEKS.

I'm downright frightful in my bitchiness... just ask my poor family who I'm sure are hoping I get to run soon if only for their own sake.

I guess on the bright side: no one else got pink eye; the stomach flu quickly made it's way through all of us with little lingering effects; and a cold is somewhat easier to handle if I spread it to more than just Hubby who is currently suffering with me. Here's hoping for healthy days ahead full of running and sanity! God knows I need it!

Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson

2011-01-27T11:19:00.000-07:00

This was the book club pick for January... picked and announced in November (since we don't read in December so we can get together for a holiday party instead)... and totally hyped by my dear friend Melissa, the newest addition to my beloved book club, who picked it. Before I tell you what I thought, let me tell you why the deck was stacked against me from the beginning. First, I had two months to read this - procrastinators and crazy do-it-all's take note. So while I bought it right away, I didn't pick it up right away. Second, I'd been hearing about how AMAZING this book was from Melissa since she'd read it over a year ago - so I ASSUMED it would also be a quick and fascinating read. These two facts actually combined to create a perfect storm for me. A storm who's consequence was not having it finished before the discussion.

The full title of this book is "Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace... One School at a Time" and is a non-fiction account of an American climber who gets lost in Pakistan after a failed attempt at climbing K2. He is taken in by a local village and in order to pay them back promises to return to build them a school. The village becomes his second family in the decade to follow and he goes on to build many more schools and do extremely amazing things for the remote villages of Pakistan and, eventually, Afghanistan. The story itself is amazing with all the things this man who basically lives out of his car in order to scrape enough money together to fulfill his promise goes through. And it is very eye opening about the Muslim religion and how very different it is from the picture of fear and extremism we are fed by the media. The whole "theme" of the story is how education is the key to peace and how we all should be promoting the education of our children no matter what or how. We had an amazing book club discussion - although because of the subject matter it was very easy to get sidetracked off of the book and onto current events with all the fervor a political discussion can get with 20 women in the room.

While this book IS amazing, it is hard to get into in the beginning which most people who voiced an opinion at the discussion agreed with. For me, the writing style was way too dry - it read more like a newspaper story than a novel - and jumped around with little sense of why which made it hard to get lost in the story and easy to put down. Which, since I had two months to read before the deadline, I did too often. As a result, I had just gotten to the good part - halfway through the book - when it becomes harder to put down when it was time for book club. I subsequently finished the book and am glad I read it. If it weren't for my expectations and assumptions of it being a quick read I would have had it finished in time...

The How-To-Do-It-All Guide for Overachievers and Crazy People

2011-01-27T00:04:00.000-07:00

Life and all the things I'm trying to cram into it has been hitting me in the face this week - HARD. It is the first big production for Big Sister's dance team also known as the Winter Revue which includes dress rehearsals and extra practices; it is Baby Sister's first birthday which of course requires a party to celebrate properly; it is the official start of Ragnar training and six-day a week running schedule; and I'm excited about writing again thanks to my amazing writer's group. Yes, ALL of that is happening THIS week. Oh, and don't forget that Book Club Retreat is in two weeks so I have an entire book to read before then - luckily it looks like a fast and easy read. And these are all just extra things on top of my nine to five job, cleaning my house occasionally and spending time with my Hubby and friends and family. And I'm expected to do all these things and NOT become a raving lunatic.

So, it's no surprise that I find myself wondering how the hell I'm going to do it all! Granted - I can't complain too much since this is all my own doing. I have always been an over-achiever after all...

Last night was a writer's group meeting - squeezed in after a full day of work, a dress rehearsal at dance, and a run. One of the greatest insights I've had in a while came from a question posed by my most-inspiring fellow writer when she said "why do you write?". Which in turn led to an examination of why I do anything and general wondering on my part if there was a better way to cope since bottom line I really WANT to do it all and not get overwhelmed. I can't give up being mom or wife; nor would I want to in either case. Same goes for daughter or sister. I can't give up my job; unless I want to drastically change my lifestyle and considering the first thing to go would be my mecca of a gym and our amazing nanny, I say hell no. No way I can give up running and my commitment to being healthy and getting fit - especially not when I spent the money I did to register for the Ragnar Relay. Plus, I deserve to be fit and healthy, as everyone does. Which leaves my two luxuries and the only other things I really do: reading and writing. At the time I was reluctantly but realistically - or so I thought - feeling like I needed to give one or the other up and since I haven't worked on my novel since the close of NaNoWriMo in November I thought it had already kind of been decided and said as much to the group while expressing my frustration that I just don't have the time to write, much as I want to.

Funny how it had to be pointed out to me that I am constantly writing since I am a regular blogger here and have been for several years. Yeah, yeah, I know that's probably quite obvious but hey, I have been talking about and toiling over and dreaming about this novel for - count them - THREE years with not even a completed first draft to show for it. Somehow I equated "writing" to working on the novel and haven't considered that I have never stopped writing since I'm constantly doing it, just in a different form. *Light bulb* And it didn't even take a therapist, just a friend who knows me pretty well! So, now I can quit getting down on myself about not writing and will continue to write in whatever form I can whenever I can with a new goal of at least once a week working on the novel. To be a writer, you must live like one which means, above all - writing.

But that epiphany doesn't really solve my overwhelming feelings of failing at being able to do everything.

Which brings us to reading. The luxury I have loved and cherished since I was a child reading Nancy Drew Mysteries and progressing to Stephen King and everything I could get my hands on - even my Mom's trashy romances when I could successfully sneak them away unnoticed. It is no secret that the last two years my reading has diminished and if it weren't for Book Club I probably wouldn't have read even as much as I have done. But there are only twenty four hours in a day and I still don't know where I'm going to find more time for reading. *sigh*

At the end of the discussion with the writer's group, we all found ourselves either committing to writing more, declaring that we were on hiatus for a while or somewhere in between so we could structure the group for this year. And that's when it suddenly came to me. Well, truth be told it was actually sparked by a sarcastic and bitchy comment about why couldn't I multi-task more things so I really could do it all.

Wait for it...

"Why don't you listen to audio books WHILE you run?"

Are you fucking kidding me? Why didn't I think of this sooner? (Hell, let's be honest, I DIDN'T think of it!) I log miles and miles a week constantly searching for just the right song or play list to entertain me while I'm at it. All the while bitching because there's not enough hours in the day to read anymore. I blame the one and only time I ever listened to a book on tape and missed the deadline for the Book Club discussion "because I can read a hell of a lot faster than a person can enunciate all those words". After that one experience - years ago mind you - I declared that audio books were not for me. Well, no longer can that be true - since I clearly can't read faster than I could listen to a book WHEN I HAVE NO TIME TO READ.

Now I just need to find the perfect way to get audio books onto my iPod so I don't have to give up anything I want to do and then look out - that list of titles I've wanted to read will start dwindling instead of merely growing. (Luckily I'm a gadget-savvy problem solver so it shouldn't take too long.) I've found my secret to doing literally everything and still staying sane - the proverbial have my cake and eat it too - and I'm so excited! Somehow I also need to find time to shop for new tights and dance shoes for the recital on Saturday plus buy birthday presents and bake cupcakes before Sunday! Somehow I'll figure that all out, too - I hope!

On a side note, if I haven't said it enough - okay, have I even said it at all? - thank you for reading what I write! And if you're not a follower, please consider it? I am a narcissist who'd love to see who's reading besides my handful of friends I see all the time. Here's to everyone being able to find a way to make life work and get everything YOU want in the coming year, too since we all deserve it...

Birth of a gym rat and Ragnar training

2011-01-17T22:28:00.000-07:00

It's official... I'm a regular at the gym. I'm in love with running so much that I've gone and made it a habit that has me working out six days a week - every week! I have a personal trainer who has helped me incorporate strength training and I found a yoga class that I love. With Ragnar training just around the corner, which will be even more challenging than my half marathon training program I did last fall, this is very good news. And with my new heart rate monitor - which I obsess about now way too much - I can be scientifically sure of exactly what my efforts are providing. If I decide to run fast and not care what my heart rate is doing, then I know I have to refuel mid-run because I'm not burning fat - but I'm building cardio endurance instead. If I decide to be disciplined and stay within my fat-burning zones I can go longer without refueling but it is more frustrating to run slower so I hate it. (Nothing ever makes me happy I guess!)

So, here's my gym schedule:

Monday - Rest
Tuesday - short run (2-3 miles) or cross train plus weights
Wednesday - mid-range run (4-5 miles)
Thursday - short run plus weights
Friday - mid-range run
Saturday - short run plus yoga
Sunday - long run - at least 8 miles

As Ragnar training ramps up, the distances will increase but the schedule will remain the same. Since Ragnar is a relay race where each runner has to run three times over the course of two days, towards the middle there will be days where my long run is split into three separate runs of shorter distances so you get used to having to run multiple times in a day. The Ragnar slogan is: Run, Drive, Sleep, Repeat.

I am so excited and so committed to being successful at Rangar I'm not doing a half marathon before like I had originally planned. Okay, and I couldn't find one that didn't conflict with Big Sister's dance competition schedule this spring. Grrrrr Who knew that I'd have a sport that competed with my kid's sport but I love it! Hubby started running yesterday - something he thought he couldn't do again after a back injury and an ACL replacement - and is also gearing up for Ragnar. I'm so excited to be doing it together!

I can't lie... Amidst all this excitement and commitment, I'm a little intimidated about Ragnar, too. Because I like downhill WAY more than uphill, I selected a spot that has more downhill but that means I have longer distances. When it is all said and done, I will have run 21 miles in the 48 hours of the race. Practically a full marathon! So, time to get the game face on and start training strong. I'm proof that anyone can be a runner - since I'm still a bit on the heavier side of my ideal weight (I could stand to lose about 30 more pounds) but I can run 10 miles on any given Sunday! Just pick a goal and stick with it, right? RIGHT!

Race Archive 2010

2011-01-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

And new to the OCD tendencies... here's a recap of all the races I ran in 2010. My first year of official racing where my goals were simply to finish. Here's to years and years of more racing where I can eventually be a competitor rather than a finisher!

Dash for Donation - 5K
August 14, 2010

CHHS Community and Alumni - 5K
September 18, 2010

SoJo Marathon 5K
September 25, 2010

Wasatch Woman Love Your Body - 10K
October 9, 2010

Halloween Half Marathon
October 30, 2010

Book List Archive 2010

2011-01-17T11:18:00.000-07:00

Time once again to placate my OCD tendencies and convert my side-panel list of books I've read into a posting for safekeeping. This list is as dismally short as it was last year but I was also doing a lot more running than reading this past year so who is really complaining? Instead, I'm thanking my book club for keeping me committed to reading at least a book a month! And here's to more time for reading in 2011!

The Unit, Ninni Holmqvist (book club)
The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, Katherine Howe (book club)
Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins
Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins
The House at Riverton, Kate Morton (book club)
Mr Monster, Dan Wells
Pillars of the Earth, Ken Follett (book club)
I Am Not A Serial Killer, Dan Wells (book club)
Life of Pi, Yann Martel (book club)
Oceans Apart, Karen Kingsbury (book club)
Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen (book club)
Pavilion of Women, Pearl S. Buck (book club)
Change of Heart, Jodi Picoult (book club)

Public Service Announcement

2011-01-12T12:39:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I got on my soap box about society here in America. Today that ends, if just for a moment. Several years ago we banned High Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS) from our diet after I read the book "The Omnivore's Dilema" and learned the real nature of our "food" here in the States. I was such a vocal bitch that all my friends and family heard about it and eventually hopped on the band wagon if only half-heartedly; well, most of them anyway. Apparently I wasn't the only one. Now, enough people in general have started reading labels that the food industry is having to change their tactics. I heard the other day that they are going to relabel HFCS as "corn sugar". Doesn't that sound so much more appealing and so much less harmful? Yeah, I think that's the point. What enrages me the most of late are the commercials where people are talking about how "they've done studies and, cane sugar or corn sugar, you're body doesn't know the difference". Every time the variations of this commercial come on I literally yell "BULLSHIT" at the television at the top of my lungs. Yes, I know they can't hear me but it sure makes me feel better.

Here's the truth in a nutshell for those of you who haven't read all the studies. Yes, your body DOES know the difference and here's where it gets freaky. Your stomach is not able to handle the digestion of HFCS, your liver has to do it. And your liver can only process so much of it. The excess the liver can't handle gets converted directly into triglycerides in your blood stream. You know, that part of "bad" cholesterol that clogs your arteries and gives you heart disease? Yeah, that. Told you it was bad! And even worse is the fact that HFCS is in everything - and I do mean everything - so you eat a ton of it without even knowing if you aren't paying attention.. Your yogurt that you think is healthy? Check the label and chances are you'll find HFCS! Your bread - yes, even the wheat variety. Your milk can even have it in it! So people please, start reading the ingredient lists on your labels and take control of your own health because trust me, the food industry isn't going to do it for you. They are the ones feeding you propaganda on the television after all! You can find practically everything - even soda - with real old fashioned natural cane sugar if you're willing to read every label before buying something. Trust me, your arteries will thank you for your vigilance!

This past weekend I came across something even more frightening. An article in the magazine put out by our gym was talking about how in one study they had taken cancer cells and fed them different forms of sugar to see how the cancer responded. Apparently it was already well known that cancer cells thrive on all kinds of sugar but what they found is that high fructose corn syrup not only fed them but increased how fast they metabolized and split to multiply and MAKE. MORE. CANCER.

HOLY SHIT! I might just go to a diet of 100% whole and natural after reading that article! If only it wasn't so expensive to eat "real" food in this country...

Hard work proof and a roller-coaster ride

2011-01-09T22:40:00.000-07:00

Day six of HCG included a trip to the gym for a cardiovascular metabolic test and a mild trip into the realm of insanity. I strapped a freaky looking mask on my face connected to a computer to measure the amount of air I took in and analyze the gases I exhaled and ran on the treadmill for a few minutes. Coupled with my heart rate monitor it tested exactly how MY body burns fat as well as my recovery heart rate and lung's oxygen capacity. I was excited and - let's be honest - a little amazed at the results. My body burns fat longer than the average person, I have a phenomenal recovery heart rate and an awesome lung capacity. The tester said "I can tell you're a runner and you've been working hard" which totally vindicated me and made me almost tear up. There it was, scientific and personal proof that I am in the best shape of my entire life.

So what the fuck am I doing HCG for?

I had already been struggling with the thoughts of putting my gym time on hold for three weeks while I took shots and ate like I was a starving Ethiopian. And now I find out exactly how to work out more efficiently for MY BODY to burn more fat yet can't do it? I had a serious melt-down.

You see, based on the few runs I had done with my new handy dandy heart-rate monitor I know exactly what heart-rate range I typically run in. And it turns out it isn't in the fat burning zone. Which on the one had was an exciting discovery because it explained why I was averaging 20 miles a week and yet not really losing any weight. On the other hand, it means I have to change the way I run if I want to see the results in my body that I started running for. Either way, though, there's that damn HCG which means no running at all for me for weeks.

Hubby came home that night and I came clean with him that I was thinking about stopping the shots early. This was my third round of HCG and I was only losing about a pound a day in the first week which was less than half what I was used to doing with the other two rounds. I remembered the frustration of the diet without weight loss from the 40-day round in 2010 and I didn't want to relive that pain. Hubby talked me off the ledge reminding me how long it would take at the gym to lose even 5 pounds a week and I went to bed feeling like an alcoholic must feel - I'd gotten through the day and I could go on if I just took it one day at a time.

Until the very next night when Hubby came home on the weak side of the roller coaster and instead of me taking the opposing role and telling him "we could do it" and "look at how much it is going to be worth it", I said "you're right let's quit!" We discussed and schemed and went back and forth trying to figure out the best thing to do and in the end we both caved. Hubby had already lost the15 pounds he wanted to (yes, I hated him just a little for that number in a week but he's a man so whatever!) and I knew I didn't have it in me to give up running for that long. We didn't want to waste the money we'd spent on the HCG so we found a new home for what was left - a fellow HCG'er I knew who was in a frame of mind to start the shots right away before they lost their potency - and we handed what was left over to her. And promptly started dreaming of all the things we could eat three days later when we entered the maintenance phase and got back everything except starch and sugar. Those were the hardest three days ever but just because we stopped early doesn't mean we aren't going to follow the protocol.

I never thought it would feel so good to be a quitter!

I ran four and a half miles today in my new-found fat-burning zone, not caring that it was like 4-minutes per mile slower than I'm used to running, did yoga yesterday and am never looking back. Seriously, I am at the gym six days a week between our new gym and the fitness center at work which is a habit I am not anticipating breaking anytime in the near future. Hubby and I both chalked up our one week trip into insanity as proof that we have certainly changed our lifestyle and are choosing the slow and steady wins the race approach to losing the last little bit of fat we want to rid ourselves of - and boy did we relish those eggs this morning!

So while I still sing the praises of HCG and recommend it to anyone interested in it, I no longer personally need it as a jump start to a healthy lifestyle - it served it's purpose and I'm happy to never look back. In the course of two and a half years I have completely changed my life and I couldn't have done it without HCG.

A glutton for punishment kicks off 2011

2011-01-04T14:55:00.000-07:00

Bet you never thought you'd hear this from me again.... I just started another round of HCG. This time with Hubby in tow. I kicked it off with a goodbye run of eight miles on the treadmills at our amazing gym - did I mention they go DOWNHILL?!? - since I can't run for three weeks (remind me to tell you about that later!). I've been working out with weight training added to my running program but the holidays are always a struggle with my sweet tooth. Once I give in and sample the delectable baked goods from my sister's kitchen, it's all over and I can't get enough - like a ravenous monkey desperately foraging for mites on every surface I can find. You get the picture.

I want to say that putting on a few pounds over the holidays was my motivating factor for embarking again on this journey but I've been planning on it for several months now. I solely blame my need for instant gratification. Seeing the pounds and inches melt off of me in the three-weeks of hell doing this protocol makes it SO worth it. And having to wait the months it would take to see the same results at the gym would just suck. So, I'm squeezing in a three-week bout in hell between New Years and Jan 28th when the official start of Ragnar training begins for the insanity I have scheduled in June.

Except that might not have been the case and now it is totally a bittersweet journey!

You see, the first thing you do is take measurements for "before" and "after" kinds of comparisons. I really like measurements as a guideline of how well you're doing on weight loss or maintenance because the scale is unreliable once you start building muscle and so I do measurements about once a quarter. (Does this make me obsessive? It sure sounds like it when I put it down in writing!) So on "Day One" I faithfully pulled out the measuring tape and dutifully recorded my measurements. And then, as is my nature, I promptly plugged them into my nifty spreadsheet which compares the current data to the previous measurement and overall from the first set of recorded measurements. I know, I'm a total geek but I've accepted it by now and so should you!

And that's when things got interesting. You see, my last set of measurements were from the first of December - at the end of a 90-day challenge I'd participated in with a group of friends intended to keep each other motivated to work out and make good food choices. I kind of slacked off a bit toward the end and it was only the ending measurements compared to the beginning ones that made it worth doing since even though I had been a bit of a slacker I had still lost overall inches - but the scale read higher at the end. (Another piece of evidence supporting the claim that people should just throw the scale away and never step on it!) Anyway... the number on the scale had continued to slowly creep up - like 4 pounds - over the course of December compliments of all the sweets I just ate and ate for like two weeks. This was exactly why I was looking forward to the fresh, whole foods of the HCG diet being forced on myself. I knew I'd gotten off track so I just recorded the numbers, not letting them mean anything, and forgot about it. But when I was plugging them into the spreadsheet, guess what?!? I might have gained "weight" according to the scale but according to the measurements I had actually lost - in all the right places like my hips and thighs and bust (which for me includes a bit of "back fat" I haven't rid myself of yet). WTF?! You mean I ate and ate sweets and because I was going to the gym regularly I was still thinner? But I didn't know and now I've started HCG and I can't run and can only do light weights?!? For THREE WEEKS?!

*SIGH*

So the rationalizing queen inside of me started thinking of all the ways I could still work out even while on this crazy protocol. I can't run, but I CAN walk. I can't do strenuous weight lifting, but I COULD do a little circuit of weights slowly, three times a week. Right? We'll see how much energy I have for the weights but I'm for sure walking every chance I get! Maybe combining the two things that work will get me even more amazing results?!? We'll see!

The other crazy part of embarking on this journey again is that my carnivorous hubby is doing it with me. He's a hottie - I won't lie - with the body of a Greek god and most people who know him will be shocked. But, he injured his back ten years ago and blew out is ACL a couple of years ago and it all adds up to slowing down for him which means he's getting a little thick around the waist. I'm not one to judge - you say you want to slim down and you know it works because you've watched me do it, then great! It will be way easier to do it together than cooking two meals for dinner, that's for sure! But then there's the part you don't know - he eats a lot. And he's a meat and potatoes kind of a guy. But potatoes are forbidden for the next six weeks in any form. And red meat is a no-no for the next three. Yes, he can have chicken but only a single serving - which is 3.5 ounces, not pounds. And the rest of his diet will consist of things that as he puts it "food eats". As in, "that's not food, that's what food eats" while looking down his nose disdainfully at my pseudo-vegetarian fare. It should be fun to watch. Although he has iron-strong will power and will stick to the program like glue, it might be even more miserable for him than for most.

Last time I did this back in April of 2010, I did a 40-day protocol which I swore I would never ever ever do again. I'm back to the 23-day with the mentality that I can do anything for three weeks. I'm getting to be an old hat at it, not stressing about the food choices or what I can and can't eat and even waited until the last day to stock up on the required food items in the refrigerator. I remember the first time when everything was new and I didn't know how to eat right and I stressed and obsessed the first couple of days about what I could and couldn't have. Not this time, now I'm just impatient for it to be the end so I can hit the road for another run. Or even the gym! I guess that's what they mean when they say a lifestyle change: when you eat pretty much the way you're supposed to in order to maintain your health even when you're not on a diet!

Speaking of the gym... running 8 miles on a treadmill is only enjoyable with a good running playlist on the iPod and interesting people to watch. Yes, I'm a people watcher in addition to my sarcasm who rarely filters what I think from coming out my mouth. It makes for some interesting times usually. The gym is no exception and when you're on a treadmill for almost two hours there are lots of people who come and go. I thought it was fun to watch the obsessive couple with their print-outs from what I assume was some kind of training program fiddling with the intervals - uphill, downhill, fast, slow and do it all over again. Then there was the entertainment factor of those tiny women with their perfect hair and spiffy workout clothes who walked but not fast enough to actually need to pull their hair up or produce any sweat to mar their perfect outfit; the guy who ran a long time dripping sweat; the hard body chick who didn't bother with a shirt over her sports bra so she could prove without a doubt how little body fat there was jiggling around and all the people in between. It even made the irritation of the treadmill automatically going into cool down after an hour easier to bear. I thought passing two hours on a treadmill would suck but it didn't - and I'm sure my facial expressions as I watched the people around me provided some entertainment for other people watchers if they were looking.

So, here's to the craziest beginning of a new year I have recollection of. And here's to it going fast so I can get back to "normal" again with at least another twenty pounds gone forever! Happy New Year!