Jamie Danford

LOVES...

I know, I'm easy.  I've been told this before.  I just can't help falling in love with things, people, ideas, etc, when they trip my trigger.  I like to think I'm passionate and appreciative, but I may also be a little biased.  So, call me easy if you must, these three things have got me feelin' the love this week...

1.) Hello new McDonald's drive-thru menu with calories posted!

I can't believe they did it, because honestly, I will talk myself out of a McFlurry in a heartbeat if I see that it contains 400 calories.  Lucky for me, my precious Egg McMuffin boasts a paltry 300 calories, so I still get to have my morning treat. 

I mean seriously, did they lose a lawsuit or something?  There's NO way in hell, I'll be grabbing one of those 1100 calorie combo meals now that I've got the cold hard truth staring back at me.  Thank you McDonalds!

2.) Of course, after my 17 miler yesterday, I didn't give two squirts about calories (my Garmin said I burned over 3000 cal. in the four hours I was sweating, panting, grunting and dying).

This is the face that only an oreo McFlurry can make better.  However, no matter the torture involved, I have to tell you how much I LOVE getting another long run under my belt. 

And I LOVE how this running thing has broadened my horizons. Case in point, I had a running 'date' with a new friend yesterday.  We know each other because our kids go to the same school, but the only other contact we've had with one another is our Facebook friendship.  She and I have been cheering each other's newbie running efforts for over a year now, and we finally decided to get together for a run at the Rails to Trails down on Hwy 80. 

I'd say our date was a success... four hours and fifteen miles of sweat is an EXCELLENT way to decide if you actually like somebody.  And I think we're gonna be marathon buddies in the Rock n Roll (just FIVE FREAKIN' WEEKS AWAY>>>>ACK!!)

3.) And not only did I find out that I totally dig running with Dwan, but I also fell madly, 100% in LOVE with my brand spankin' new Camelbak hydration pack.

OMG... I could not be happier!  I've been trying to decide what kind of hydration pack to buy for months, and when I saw a chick wearing this around my 'hood, I caught up with her so I could interrogate her about it.  She loved it and recommended it, so I used my birthday money from my in-laws (thanks Bill and Carol!) to get one.

It was bigger than I'd expected, and I was a little worried at first, because I'd previously bought a pack that held bottles and hated it because it bounced everytime I took a stride.  But this little dude just hugged up against my waist and rode along comfortably.

Seriously, after less than a mile, I'd already forgotten about it.  And talk about ease of use, the pack holds a 1.5 liter bladder that I filled with ice water and you just drink out the little tube...

And when you're not sipping, then the little tube just clips onto the belt. 

COOOOOOOL!!!  No more worrying about water stops for me... and the icy cold bladder feels good on my back, haha.  There are pockets that have plenty of room for my GU, gummy bears, granola bar, phone, keys etc... And it's so light that I didn't feel burdened down at all.  I'm in love. 

Of course, there are a few other things that are tickling my fancy these days...

~I'm reading the Harry Potter series for the first time ever.  Crazy, I know... how the heck did I miss that train?  I've never even seen the movies.  I'm on the second book, and have fallen in love with the gang from Hogwarts. 

~I love Fleet Feet... yes I've said it before, but it is SO freakin' nice to be able to walk into a store and get quality service from somebody who at least acts like they give a damn.  This week I went in for some advice about my foot pain and came out with some Super Feet inserts.  They really helped with my pain on the long run, problem solved!

~And what would an 'Love List' be without a shout out to my Alabama Crimson Tide!!!!  

 

ROLL TIDE ROLL!!!  I'm so addicted to my boys that I'm missing a long awaited a low country boil at my friends' house tonight so I can stay home and watch every single snap of their game against Ole Miss.  I love football season... sigh~

What are you lovin' right now?  Anything good? 

 

Florence Nightingale, I am not...

Too bad... I bet I'd look dead-sexy in that bonnet.

But alas, I am no Florence Nightingale. 

I wish I could say that I had a stomach of steel and a strong constitution, but when it comes to me or my loved ones getting hurt, I turn to mush... generally manifested in the form of a less than graceful rush to elevate my feet as to not pass out in a puddle of my own vomit (which has happened before.)

So, as you can imagine, when I received an unexpected phone call from Big Dave (he was at the hunting club, an hour away) yesterday, informing me that he'd lopped off the end of his finger with some pruning shears, I immediately turned green with dread.  In fact, I was sitting in the church parking lot and had to recline my seat and prop my knees on the steering wheel... which provide a really nice visual for church goers heading to their cars I'm sure. 

Yeeesh.  Me and my weenie gut. 

I blame my mother of course... she was a fainter long before I was even a twinkle in my daddy's eye.  This lovely heirloom she passed to me, first raised it's ugly head in our veterinarian's office when I was six years old.  Mom and I were there watching our black lab, Buffy get her annual doggie well-check, and when that vet pulled out a big ol' long Q-tip of black gunk from Buffy's ear, I took three steps out into the hall and keeled over. 

Thanks Mom.

The tradition continued, in fifth grade when I stuck myself in the knee with my pencil.  As I sat there in my desk listening to my teacher read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, I kept thinking about what lead poisoning must be like... and I was pretty sure it was creeping up my leg, directly to my heart.  Finally, I leapt from my desk, ran out into the hall and... you guessed it, hit the floor.  Damn.  Not embarrassing at all.

Of  course, the time in eighth grade when I got my fingers caught in the hinges of the locker room door, which of course constituted a black out, got me a free ride in the arms of Cass Black, the super studly high school football player... that wasn't too bad.

Poor Big Dave... thank goodness he can take care of himself (and me) because he walked into this relationship never having known anyone as special as me.  We'd only dated about two months when I did one of my super stellar pass out and throw ups after getting a shot in my butt cheek for an ear infection.  I'd warned him that if I ever got woozy to remember, "If the face is pale, raise the tail (legs) and if the face is red, raise the head."  He took the words to heart and they've served him (and me) well over the last twenty one years. 

Heck, he's even saved me from an errant foul ball at the softball field when I passed out on the sidewalk after he got his lip busted while pitching.  I'm tellin' ya... he's my guardian angel. 

Unfortunately, I can't reciprocate. 

When he arrived home from the hunting club with a sock wrapped around his bloody wound with some electrical tape, I was a goner.  I had to leave the house, and when I did finally come back two hours later (from the pool... sigh, I know... torture) I nearly bit the dust as he told me that the surgeon next door said he'd cut it all the way down to the fat... um GROSS.

Poor Big Dave had to get the Hottie Neighbor's Hottie Husband to bandage it for him while I lay on the bed trying not to vomit... after I felt a little better, I got in the shower, only to start thinking about it, causing me to make a naked, soapy dash back to the bed to lay down again.  Geez, this is ridiculous. 

Nope, no nursing skills here... however I did manage to go to the Rite Aid for some gauze and a splint thingy.  And I fed him too.  See? I'm helpful... sort of. 

Poor Big Dave...

At least he has his favorite pink blankie and Trixie the Wonder Cat to watch over him. 

Marathon Muffin Top...

Um... wait a cotton pickin' minute.

What the hell is THIS???

And this????

I'll tell you what it is...  it's my worst case scenario.  I've committed to 30-40 miles of running each week, in addition to swimming and biking and basically moving my ass as much as I can possibly tolerate without losing my sanity, and I'm GAINING weight. 

WTF?

Mama is NOT happy. 

Mama has 'Marathon Muffin Top.' 

My jeans are too tight, my elastic waist running shorts are stretching further than they used to, and I can feel the extra jiggly blobness as I canter down the road. 

Apparently I'm not alone in my frustration, as there are tons of blogs and webzine articles addressing the issue of 'weight gain during marathon training.'  It makes me feel a little better knowing that I'm not alone in this conundrum... just a little.

I didn't commit to running the Rock n Roll Marathon in November for weight loss, but I certainly hadn't planned on weight gain.  I  just figured that I would have to lose some weight with the increase in mileage, and seein' as how we're going on a cruise two weeks before the marathon, it was good timing.  Oh but nOOooOOOo... my little plan didn't turn out the way I'd envisioned it. 

I weighed in at a nice comfy 141-143 back in July, but now I'm looking at 148-150 on the scale.  Crap.

So what's the deal? 

Well, it looks like there are a couple of reasons and if I'm being honest with myself I've got to accept them.

1.) Apparently my body is in 'survival mode' because I'm freaking it out with the long distance runs.  I guess 18 miles is enough to make the bod say, "What the hell are you doing to me????  I need more glucose!!  So if you're going to put me through this torture once a week, then I'm going to start storing glycogen which is going to cause you to pack on a few lbs... that's whatcha get!"

Apparently, (I'm not a doctor, but I've been known to play one on occasion) when your body stores up glycogen, it also stores water to help break it down, which can account for an extra pound or two. 

2.) Then there's the reality... I'm probably eating too many calories.  I've been logging my food/drink consumption into www.myfitnesspal.com and quite honestly, I am not going over the recommended caloric intake except for maybe one or two days a week, so I thought I was doing good with my eating, but maybe I'm not.  Maybe the Snickers bars after the long runs are working against me.  I don't know.  The calorie mystery is a tough one.  If you take in too many, you gain weight... if you take in too few, you gain weight. It's ridiculous and confusing and it pisses me off just thinking about it.

Whatever the case, the fact is that I'm up five to eight pounds since I started training for this marathon, and my belly is a jiggle-fest.  Grrrr. 

Who knew?

Not me.

I feel great, but dammit I wish the numbers on the scale didn't affect me so much.  But they do. 

At least I know I'm going to feel like a ROCKSTAR when I FINISH the marathon... and it will ALL be worth it. 

Fat roll or not.

;)

 

http://www.runaddicts.net/tips-tricks/why-am-i-gaining-weight-during-marathon-training

10 Question Game {AKA, More Blathering About Running}...

Without question, my numero uno favorite running blog is Another Mother Runner... I stalk read it every day.   So after reading today's post I decided to play along and answer these ten running related questions:

1. Best run ever:  Gosh, my poor wine-riddled brain barely retains my most recent runs, so I guess at this point I'll have to say last week's 9 miler where I actually RAN the entire way... no walk breaks at all.  It was a slower pace than if I'd taken walk breaks and run faster for shorter lengths of time, but I was so danged proud of myself for being about to stay in my running 'stance' for the duration.  Very cool.

2. Three words that describe my running:  Unnatural. Ugly. Empowering.

3. My go-to running outfit is: Shorts, wicking tank top and bra, Asics and visor... can't forget my sunglasses, even in the rain.

4. Quirky habit while running:  I spend a lot of time in the 80's and early 90's while I'm running.  My playlist is overflowing with music from those years, and it helps me lose myself in the old thoughts and feelings.  I re-live old boyfriends, cruising as a teen, meeting Big Dave in the dance club downtown, etc... it makes the time go by a little faster.

5.  Morning, midday, evening:  Morning... although I don't need to get up at 5am to do it, yuck.  I like running in the a.m because it lets me get it over with, and I can face the day with a more positive attitude knowing I've gotten my self-torture out of the way and have some extra calories to play with.

6. I won't run outside when it's:  Lightning.  Oh I am such a chicken-puss when it comes to storms!  No way, you can forget it.  I'll be under the bed if you need me.

7.  Worst injury- and how I got over it:  So far, I've been pretty blessed. (Knock on wood RIGHT now.)  I had the calf injury back in December/January but healed up nicely thanks to some yummy physical therapy.  I'm currently fighting with a naggy left thigh/butt/back alligator, but I've found that icing, stretching and resting it make it go away, so I'm just gonna keep pushing and resting and (then push a little more) until the marathon in November, then I promise I'll let it heal all the way. 

8.  I felt most like a badass mother runner when: I finished the Tybee Half Marathon after dealing with my calf injury for the two months leading up to it.

 

I was so freakin' happy and proud of myself!

9. Next race is:  The Sunbury 5K. 

This race is significant to me because it was the motivation for my running in the first place.  {Here's how it went}  So I'm super excited about participating in it again this year... and hopefully (crossing my fingers and toes) I'll even beat last year's time.  It's a beautiful course and a positive, fun event so no matter what, I know I'm going to enjoy myself. 

10. Potential running goal for 2013:  Hmmm... well, part of this depends on whether or not I survive my first marathon this November.  But if I do survive and haven't sworn off running ever again, I'd like to do all five of the races at the Tybee Runfest  in February (and coerce my hottie neighbor to do it with me.)  I'd also like to do the Tough Mudder in Jacksonville in May... if I find a team willing to drag me along with them. 

I think I'm supposed to tag somebody else at the end of this post, but none of my running friends have blogs, and I doubt they have the time to do this as a post on Facebook... but just in case there's a chance of that happening then I'll tag Dwan and Mendy.  What the heck.  :)

 

 

 

 

 

Eighteen...

Guess what sucks?

Eighteen miles.

Holy goodness, I got my ass handed to me today on the streets of the DHU! Here's the rundown:

My training schedule had gotten a little screwy when I was nursing my sore leg/hiney/lower back issue, so I missed two of the optional long runs last month.  Which pretty much means that I can NOT miss anymore.  {ugh}  

In other words, this week's eighteen miler was non-negotiable. {double ugh}

(Technically, I was supposed to make up the 17 miler I missed, but after studying the schedule and seeing that we're down to the last two months of training, I decided to bump it up so I could be caught up.)

So, as other long distance types like myself probably understand, I spent the last two days thinking about my upcoming long run.  We tend to analyze, diassect and obsess about these things... wait, it's not just me right?  

I planned my route, froze water bottles to hide at predetermined points, made sure my favorite running bra and shorts were washed, loaded my Ipod with a couple dozen new songs, and charged my Garmin.  I went to bed with butterflies in my stomach... strange but true, and tossed and turned all night in anticipation of the torture. 

Then after dropping off the kiddo, I trucked back home and suited up.  The skies were overcast, dark gray fluffies left no room for Mr. Sunshine, and the wind was delightful.  It looked very promising... until the drizzle started.  Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE running in the rain.  Give me a soaking wet ponytail and some sloggy sneakers and I'm a happy gal.  HOWEVER, it's a whole different story when you're perfectly dry and have to force yourself to leave your nice cozy house in a downpour.  

No worries though... it gave me a  little time to take some pics of me sportin' my NEW Bondiband headband given to me by my homegirl Dana.

LOVE the headband... HATE the bags under my eyes.  I'm gonna sleep like a bear tonight.

Unfortunately the rain wouldn't let up, and I had to swap out the band for a visor to keep the raindrops out of my eyeballs.  

I gave up on the waiting game and headed out into a light drizzle... it wasn't too bad, and of course it's a heck of a lot better than 100 degree heat.  

My goal was to head up Coffee Bluff (la rue de mort), sneak through the gated entrance at Coffee Pointe, do a lap through there, then back on Coffee Bluff, right on Felt, loop through that hood (never been back there) and make my way to CB Plantation for a pit stop at Lisa's, then head toward the marina, where another frozen water bottle was awaiting my arrival, and finally head back home to do the last couple of miles on the treadmill (I prefer finishing on the 'mill since I'm not sure how I'll hold up toward the end of these long runs and like knowing that I can pass out or vomit in the privacy of my hottie neighbor's garage.)

The route was awesome, with lots of fun new sites to keep me distracted and entertained.  I've lived in this area, on and off, for 34 years, yet there's some stuff happening down the backroads that I'd never dreamed...

Like this big, beautiful house that was apparently abandoned midway through construction...

Guess they ran out of money?

Or perhaps they got freaked out by the billy goats living on the porch of this house just down the road...

Yes... goats.  Yes... on the front porch.  I kid you not~

I wonder if the goats are scared of this giant lion in front of the house across the street...

(There were two of them... 6 feet tall, that's a lot of concrete lion... just sayin'.)

I forgot to get a photo of the sunbleached skeleton on the side of one of the roads... Man, I sure hope it's a deer.  There were a LOT of bones.  (Probably dinner for the lions.)  

I'm tellin' ya... it was weird.  

But it was enough of a distraction that I clicked through the first 10 miles without a hitch.  I'd opted for gummy bears as a sugary treat and popped a couple as my watch beeped at each mile mark.  It was lovely.

However, the loveliness came to a rickety, whiney, doubt-filled stop at mile 13.29.   That's when I checked my Garmin, noted the distance and quickly came to the realization that I'm gonna have to cover that same distance all over again to finish the full marathon.  C~R~A~P

I got real cranky.  And sort of depressed.  Doubtful too.  

Everything started to hurt. Not like injury hurt, just tired, exhausted, weary, worn down, dead dog yuck.  And my feet were starting to bother me, like cramping in my arches.  

I managed to creep through a little over two more miles at a 14 minute pace.  Oh it sucked so bad.  Deciding to cut my losses, I steered toward home, figuring a jolt of ice cold Powerade would give me the energy I needed to finish up on the treadmill.  I don't know if I would've finished if I had to do it on the roads... I was in the run-in-molasses-over-a-bed-of-jagged-metal phase.  Not pretty.

Thankfully, the last 2.64 on the treadmill went quickly and easily. My feet still hurt, but just knowing that I was so close to home gave me some comfort.  I finished up in 3 hours and 56 minutes.  Not speedy by a long shot, but it's done, and that's what matters.

AND I got to treat myself to an Oreo McFlurry, and now I get to kick back, drink a cold beer and enjoy being exhausted...

...it sort of makes it worth it.

My next long run is 19 miles... eeeeek!!  

;)

 

 

 

 

 

Team Danford: Showin' the Love...

Do you listen to Kidd Kraddick in the Morning?  It's my favorite radio show.  And this morning they were talking about how annoying it is when their Facebook friends post their running stats on their walls.  Um... kinda like I do. 

With cool apps and online fitness trackers like RunKeeper, Garmin, and Daily Mile, it's easy to upload information about your daily exercise, and it's all very linkable to Facebook.  

I LOVE my Garmin GPS watch... I love to track  my distance, times, heart rate and calories burned... I may HATE math in the real world, but I totally dig running math.  And I LOVE Runkeeper... it makes it so easy to keep up with how far I've run this year and it even connects me with my other friends who are using Runkeeper... very cool.  I get such a sense of accomplishment when I hit the 'activities' link and see how many miles I've covered each month this year... it helps keep me motivated.

SOoooOOOOooOOOoo... all that being said, when I heard them talking trash about people on Facebook posting their run times, I felt kinda sad.  I never ever EVER want my friends to think I'm just posting to brag about my personal quest for fitness... although, sometimes I do wanna brag just because I lived a sedentary lifestyle for 38 years, and if I run a 32:32 5K like I did tonight, dammit, I wanna raise the roof and shout, "hell yes!"

But in all honesty, I blather about my running and crosstraining on my bloggy and on Facebook (via Runkeeper) for three reasons...

The first reason is a selfish one... I need the accountability.   Flat out, if I didn't feel accountable to my friends who are also training for upcoming races, I'd find it very easy to shirk my daily excercise and eat doughnuts.  

The second reason is the reversal of the first.  I know that my friends who are also questing toward fitness need encouragement and support.  If they see I've struggled during a super hot run where I barely slog through a 40 minute 3 miler, they can relate, commiserate and move on.  Knowing that we're all in this craziness together helps... even if it's only in the cyber-world.  I've made great cyber (and real life) friends during this sweaty phase of my life, and judging by the amount of emails and FB messages, my adventures in masochism have struck a chord.  I know it's cliche, but seriously if I can get my ass off the couch and raise my heart rate above 130 bpm, so can you.  Whether it's running or walking or dancing or biking or swimming or secretly ordering a dvd and moving our bodies 5 minutes a day... we can do it when we have the support of our friends.  

(Omg, did I just sound like Richard Simmons or what????)

 

And Thirdly (I love saying 'thirdly'... it rhymes with turdly, which is TOTALLY a word) I need the affirmation.  Today I had two friends, who've seen my posts on FB, say such wonderful things to me about what I'm doing.  Friend one, even though she probably didn't even know what she was doing, lit my fire when she told me how 'motivated' I appear to her. Really? Motivated?  Hell yes!!  And then Friend two drove up behind me while I was chugging through my 3.1 miler tonight and said, "By the way I am SO proud of you" as she cruised away leaving me sweating in the sunset.  I swear I could've run another 10 miles after she said that.  

Words like this, that she probably didn't even think twice about, mean SO much to me, and when I post a stat about a run on Facebook and my friends comment on it, it makes me feel like I have my very own cheerleading squad.  

Team Danford!  

And for that I thank each and every one of you... no, seriously... I don't think I'd be training for a marathon if it weren't for the positive vibes, prayers and encouraging words you all have shared with me.  

You rock, and I love you!

 

 

 

The Birthday that wouldn't die...

It's true... my birthday celebration started last weekend, and it's pretty much consumed the last 9 days of my life.  However, as with all good things, it's time to say goodbye to the revelry.  (My liver can't handle much more.)

My party (hosted by my hottie neighbor and her more than gracious hottie hubby who didn't know anything about it until a couple days out) was SO much fun, and although we ended up in a storm of monsoon-like proportions and had to bring the party inside, we still had a great time.  

Aww... lookit my poor balloons all saggy baggy on the ground. :(  Naughty weather!  

Thank goodness, I've got some FUNNY friends... the rains didn't dampen anyone's spirits, even though the storm knocked down a tree up the road and blocked traffic in and out of my neighborhood for more than four hours. 

We managed to keep ourselves entertained until traffic could resume... at about 1 am.  Let's see... how did we survive?

Well we had PLENTY of cake (from Baker's Pride... YUM!)

and loads of goodies to eat...

And of course there were the birthday cake shots...

... I mean, we wouldn't want anyone to get dehydrated would we?

Round # 82...

Round # 97...

Round # 117...

...Well, you get the idea.

And you know what birthday cake shots means right?  

A very, um... affectionate group of people...

...and my personal favorite...

I got a bunch of great presents...

... the 'Run Bitch Run' headband that I've been coveting, vino, scrapbooking goodies, and some gift cards to my favorite places like Home Depot and Amazon.  

Thank YOU my sweet friends for sharing my celebration with me!!!  I definitely enjoyed myself...

 

 

I need to invent a word...

...or a condition... or a syndrome of some sort that describes when a person who has blogged for SIX YEARS, starts getting confused in her old age and can't remember if she's posted stuff on Facebook or her blog.  

Of course, a lot of the time it has something to do with a particular fermented grape that goes well with cheese or crackers or dry Froot Loops straight out the box.  

My blog is like my diary (scary right?) and I have big dreams of one day (maybe sooner than later, but probably later than sooner) sending it to a printer to be bound in volumes that I can store in a box under my bed to be enjoyed by myself when I can no longer remember who I am.  So I've GOT to stay true to the bloggy and make sure that I get the photos and stories on here... even if they've been duplicated on Facebook.

So that's why I'm thowing these on here, even though they've already made their internet debut elsewhere. 

I've gotta show you my birthday present from my friend Sid...

She put her mad sewing skills to work and made these most excellent BAMA place mats for my kitchen table. Holy goodness... I LOVE them!  (They're reversible too... I'm guessing that means we can get sketty sauce on 'em and just flip 'em over til wash day.)

She also made me my own Penthouse edition of our Cricut binder...

Haha... read the front of the binder... she's hilarious!

And I've also GOT to put these pool party pics on here... really, they don't need a lot of explanation.  We started our Labor Day festivities at one of our friends' pools and ended up at another... you'll see the progression as the margaritas were consumed...

 

Welcome FORTY!

What?  

I'm forty?

Shut up.

Seriously?

I still feel like I'm fourteen.

Forty?

Well... if you say so.

And my Mama does say so.  So it must be true.

In fact Mom came over just a little while ago so we could reminisce about my birth... that glorious night forty years ago when Judy went into labor and Frank took her to the hospital and dropped her off at the entrance so he could park the car.  And the doors were locked.  She gave birth to me right there on the sidewalk.  

Not really.

Somebody let her in the door.

But wouldn't that have been so cool?  Hahahaa~

Hey Mom!

(Love this woman!)

To celebrate this illustrious day in my own personal history, Big Dave showered me with love and food and presents.  YAY!  He cooked my favorite din din...

Yummmmmy!!

And of course there was cake... my favorite lemon cake... purrrr...

And what?  Presents????  

Reeeally?????  Me likey PRESENTS!!  Yayyaay!

Here's the loot:

Lisa surprised me with a bottle of my favorite wine and some sexy nail polish, and Mendy gave me a Tervis Tumbler (because one can NEVER have too many Tervis Tumblers!) and the houndstooth nail wraps I've been coveting, along with this drool-worthy skillet that goes on the stove top and in the oven...

Meow~~

My sweet boy bought me a set of mixing bowls because I've been jealous of Mendy's for a while now, and he's treating me to a massage at A Perfect Touch Massage.  And what?  Some spending moolah too?  Yeeeek!!  

It's been a great day!  But don't be mistaken... the celebration is FAR from over.  My 'Wild About Forty!' birthday party is coming up Friday night, and don't forget our shared birthday cruise with our hottie neighbor's hottie hubby Karl in October.  

I love forty.

Forty rocks! 

 

 

 

57 Sets... A Stadium Tale.

The stadium crew has a tradition, if somebody has a birthday that week, and they're older than 40, the crew runs that many sets that day.  (A typical Saturday is 40 sets.)  Well, for the first time in the six months that I've been hittin' the stairs, I showed up on somebody's birthday... thanks a lot Mike.  And even though I argued that my  birthday is Tuesday, and we should totally just split the difference, the guys weren't buyin' it.  

We knew what we were getting into... they warned us last week.  But it was still pretty heartbreaking to show up this morning at 6:45 knowing that we had a ridiculously tough 2(+) hours ahead of us.  

I rolled out of my car and was strapping on my heart rate monitor when Natalie walked up and mumbled, "Where's the cake?"  I know right?!?!?!!  

Nope, no cake.  

Just stairs. 

And bleachers.

And sweat... oh my gosh at the sweat.

It was beautiful at first, the full moon setting in the West...

...and the sun rising in the East...

But then a thick, soupy fog settled in and things got sticky.  Muggy.  More like swimming in broth really.

At some point, Natalie checked her watch, looked over at me and said, "What?  It's only 8:20?"  We laughed... miserably.  

We trudged through our normal 40 reps (3200 stairs), pouted a little, guzzled Powerade... considered mutiny, but finally continued with the extra 17 reps (another 1360 stairs) to pay honor to our fearless leader for a grand total of approximately 4560 stairs... ups only... downs don't count. ugh.)  

With more than 800 calories burned, and my calves and thighs feeling like hamburger, I shuffled to the car, drove straight to Sonic and feasted on a Supersonic breakfast burrito (minus the tots thank you.)  

I keep telling myself that I am not a dog, so I don't need to reward myself with food.  But dangit, mama loves her some vittles.  Nom nom nom... 

Then I came home, showered, did some laundry, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed and polished the floors, mopped the kitchen floor, took Mom to meet her boyfriend, filled up with gas, picked up my kid from her friend's house, ate two Snickers bars (shhh), came back home, shut my bedroom door, turned on my fan, gathered up my pomeranian, crept into my bed, pulled the pillow over my head and slept like the dead for over three hours.

Excellent.

And now, I've got an ice pack on my ass and compression sleeves on my calves.  I'm four beers and four Ibuprofens into the night and my Crimson Tide is about to ROLL right over Michigan.

Hell yeah.  What a GREAT day!  

:)