First half marathon training run done! 3.2 miles conquered in perfect 50-degree temps with a little rain and up and down a few hills. Joey sailed through it, while I struggled to make running look as effortless as he did.
I have no desire to run one again.
No major complaints or anything, I just didn’t love it enough for a repeat performance.
That doesn’t mean I won’t pound the pavement again for 13.1 miles, though, because, just yesterday, my 10-year-old kid told me he’d run a half if I do it with him. That’s all it took — a little
force motivation from Joey, and I’m on board. So on board, actually, we’ve already invested in new running shoes, peeked at a training schedule, and logged our first 2 miles together (well, not together, actually, more like me way behind him).
Joey and I shook on our deal to run for hours this winter in what will probably be freezing cold temperatures. We decided we’ll conquer through thick and thin. We’re in it for the long haul, and on February 19, 2012, we will cross the finish line, collect our medals, and I’ll probably declare for the second time that I won’t ever run another half marathon.
Unless, of course, some spunky kid challenges me again.
November begins with a fresh new haircut. He looks older, more mature. He looks like Joey.
It’s never to late to reinvent yourself, even if just for a day. Today, Danny became a nerd, and Joey became a clown. Danny won $5 for his makeover at a Halloween costume party, and Joey collected tons of compliments for his all-out rendition of a funny man. Both boys were in full character from morning until night (see photo for proof), and they were free, uninhibited, and downright jolly about themselves. Maybe that’s what we all need — a day to become something totally new and exciting. And if we can score some cash, even better!
It’s been one week since a border collie bit the back of both of my legs, and I feel more shaken by the whole ordeal today than I did seven days ago, when Gabby accidentally got out of her house, pursued me on my morning walk, then promptly chomped into each of my calves, leaving me with wounds that are still healing and a butt still sore from a tetanus shot. It’s not the same feeling I had the morning of the incident, when I called my mom crying, followed up with Animal Services and the owner, and reported to an urgent care center for medical attention. I was literally shaking that day; today, my mind is rattled.
Here’s what is swirling through my head: Have I done enough to hold Gabby’s master accountable for his loved one’s actions? Have I done too much? When will my bite marks heal entirely, and will my yellowish bruises ever go away? Will I have scars on my calves, and, if I do, how long will they last? Will I forever prefer to avoid dogs like I do at this very moment, or will my fear fade? Should I acquire some mace, a big stick, a powerful kick to fend off future Fidos? Will I continue to volunteer at the Humane Society because my kids love it so, even though my first dog bite occurred there — and now this?
Maybe it’s the week anniversary that has spurred on my intense thinking.
Maybe it’s the opinions of others that have me second guessing and wondering if I’m properly handling this whole predicament.
Or maybe it’s just normal to dwell on a personal attack that leaves lingering effects and reminders — like messed-up legs, dying flowers on my kitchen counter-top from Gabby’s daddy, notice that the 12-year-old pooch will have an electric fence in her yard beginning tomorrow, the passionate protection of a husband who is both sad and angry this has happened to me, the concern of a sister and mom who get to listen to my ramblings on the matter, and well, that’s enough.
Yea, normal. I think that’s it. And today is apparently my day to normally reflect on what I never thought would happen when I ventured into Oakcrest neighborhood on September 14. Tomorrow, however, is a new day. And I trust it will be better.
Today, I lifted a little. And that is so unlike me, because I just don’t like working out with weights. Running is my pick, and I walk when I can’t find a bounce in my step, and sometimes, I’ll ride a bike, swim, and on occasion, my mom has coaxed me into yoga poses. But strength training? I just don’t love it. Or like it, really.
Why was I was drawn to lifting this morning? No idea. And will I return to the practice, which I know can help my body in ways running never will? I don’t know. But I hope I do stick with it, because, well, all healthy reasons aside, I think muscles on girls are way cool, and I could use a few.
I’m borrowing this so-true quote from my friend MizFit (she borrowed it from F. Scott Fitzgerald), because I so totally believe in the power of starting over. My own start-overs are what inspired this blog, and I happen to be working on a few at this very moment. I’ll devote whole posts to them at some point, but in a nutshell, they are:
- School starts in less than two weeks, and that means fresh school supplies, and meeting teachers, and establishing routines, and classroom volunteer opportunities, and I love it all.
- I’m taking on a few new work projects (three of them editing gigs), and I’m eager to roll them into my world.
- As always, I’m tweaking my diet and exercise efforts so I can keep my body and my weight at a healthy happy. It’s never easy, but always worth it.
Got any plans for starting over? Would love to hear!