The dots, in this case, are the random bits of information to follow. Yes, I could have written several mini posts, but I think you know by now that I will almost always choose long-winded over short.
For the second year in a row, my team made the playoffs in our Keeper($) Fantasy Football League. Although my dependence on the Tom Brady/Rob Gronkowski combo seemed like it was going to destroy me earlier in the season (thanks a load for those 9 points in week 7, Touchdown Tommy), they pulled together when the time came and got me the wins I desperately needed. This team is the one (of three) with which I most concern myself. I'm doing terribly in the Free Family League, and I need many things to fall into place in order to secure a playoff spot in the winner-take-all League of Mostly Couples. Unfortunately, my brother-in-law needs to beat his brother this week to push me ahead in the standings in that league, and, well, that might take a Thanksgiving miracle.
BIL's appropriate team pic
Cupcake (formerly known as Baby) is thoroughly obsessed with The Fox song. She prefers the live on Jimmy Fallon's show version to the original, because she likes pointing at the horse with the Ylvis guys. She asks to watch it multiple times each hour day, sings along ("pa pa pow"), and dances. It's pretty stinkin' cute.
Rip Claw (formerly known as 6 y.o.) earned his Bobcat rank in Cub Scouts. I got to paint his cute little face during the presentation ceremony at the pack meeting. Charming (formerly known as Husband, because he's like my Prince and my Jax Teller all in one charming package) and I are pretty new to the whole scouting deal, and still a little hesitant. We like the values they teach, and Rip Claw enjoys the activities a lot. We're not entirely sure, though, that we're getting our money's worth. It seems like a lot of expense, time, and effort are going in to securing tangible recognition that he's learned things we have taught him since he was born. The leaders talk a lot about scouting being a family oriented program, but it is really difficult for us to participate in many of the events as a family, and I feel like we're ostracized if we complete assignments or activities just as a family, without the den. Oh, and then there's the lightly blanketed racism that seems to pervade everything scouting-related...but that's a subject for a different post. And they also seem prejudiced against those of us who don't sew or iron.
First time in uniform a couple months ago.
I'm running again! I've been slowly building my weekly mileage up, and including lots of walking each time I hit the road. I also was treated to a therapeutic massage recently, which helped with the lingering soft tissue pain around my healed stress fracture. I already shared some of the lessons I learned from my injury, but I feel like I'm also applying even more intelligence and thought to my running regimen than ever before. I'm keeping track of how much water I drink, and meeting my goal of at least 100 oz/day. I'm strength training, with concentration on my core, hips, and quads. I've been practicing yoga. Perhaps my favorite change, though, has been the addition of these dynamic stretching workouts after running.
Miranda Esmonde-White doesn't know it, but I love her. She makes me want to hug my television.
I tweet! Follow me, if you please. I am @Rhi_Tweeter.
My Alma Mater has an Ah-Mah-Zing football team this year. U! C! F! Whooooo!
Nightmares have been going around at our house. A couple of nights ago, Rip Claw slept in our bed after a bad dream, which has never happened before. Last night, I had a terrifying dream about the Governor from The Walking Deadwherein he was tearing the heads off of people (not zombies) with a hook, and hunting down me and the other members of my group.
I'm currently reading 3 books. 1 for regular book club:
Turns out, rock star stereotypes are sometimes quite accurate.
1 for mini book club:
Page 1, I decided to hike the Appalachian Trail. Then, changed my mind somewhere around page 1 1/2.
1 to satisfy my inner sci-fi geek:
Better than the first (so far) and the "There Goes The Galaxy" was pretty grand.
Let's see...is there anything else important that I should share? Hmm. Oh! Yeah. I registered for my second first marathon. Did anyone else just stop breathing for a second? No? Just me, then. If two marathons could be complete opposites, my first first and my second first are such. This one is in its inaugural year, local, without rock bands (although I think it would be great if they hired some local bands to provide music along the lovely course) and without several thousand of the participants that ran in Savannah. It's going to be great. It's going to be great. It's going to be great.
It's going to be great.
Perhaps my chant should instead be: "I will not get injured. I will not get injured. I will not get injured."
I know I haven't offered much advice in this post, but please feel free to comment with any questions you have about my areas of expertise, like barely making fantasy football playoffs, running hesitantly, sleeping on the couch or not at all after scary dreams, and... um... reading! Oh, and if you need to know every single lyric of The Fox song, I can help.
Do you remember playing this game as a child? When two people say the same thing at the same time, one of them, or a random listener, can shout, "Jinx! Padlock!" and then the other person (people) can't speak until someone who isn't padlocked says their name three times. Other versions include, "Jinx! Buy me a coke!" and "Chin! Dada!" which is really only the version Baby plays as she tags along after 6 y.o. and repeats everything he says.
Hard to believe this kid would follow his parents around the house, asking them questions to which he already knows the answer so that he can say what they say at the same time in an attempt to "padlock" them. Not! What's hard to believe is that there might be something more annoying that a child could do for weeks at a time.
We have "played" this "game" a lot (lot lot lot lot) during the past several weeks, which might be the reason why I keep thinking of jinxes. Let me clarify- I am not a superstitious person. I believe that there is actually an Ultimate Plan for my life, and that luck, jinxes, and the like do not, in reality, even exist. I typed those last 2 sentences with great conviction, and I definitely stand by my wise words. However, you will never again see me wearing my Buccaneers earrings on game day. They lose every time I have them in! Once, I wore them during the first half of the game which was, in typical Bucs fashion, a disaster. I removed the earrings during halftime, they came back out and won the game. But I'm not superstitious. So, all of the jinxes I'm about to describe are certainly not actual jinxes. Jinxes don't exist. (Unless you and the person sitting next to you just read 'jinxes don't exist' aloud at the same time. Then you're both padlocked. Ha!)
The Speed Jinx
I love my running group. You would not believe how kind, supportive, encouraging and motivating this group of runners is. Aaaaannnndddd, one of the kind, supportive, encouraging, motivating friends (I won't mention any names) totally jinxed my pace. June 14. 5 a.m. group run. Afterward, as everyone chatted and basked in the knowledge that their stink was undetectable amidst the stinks of those around them, this particular KSEM friend said, "So, you're like never even in the 9s anymore, huh?" He was right. In the 2 months prior to his comment, nearly 40 different runs, only 5 had been over a nine minute/mile pace. In the 2 months since, only 1 of my nearly 40 runs has been under a 9 minute pace, and that one was at 8:57.
Lucky 13?
I registered for the race of my dreams on July 13th. I used a discount code to save $13. The code was LUCKY13. All of which, of course, means nothing bad. How could a number have any power over me? It isn't as if typing a 1 and a 3 would somehow magically make my calves hurt or something...
The Best Laid Plans...
Every mile carefully plotted out in a lovely calendar purchased specifically for my marathon training plan. Pace goals. Rest days. Projected weekly mileage increases. Ink color coordination. For someone who loves lists like I do, and loves writing with sharp pencils on blank spaces like I do, planning marathon training was blissful. But, as they say, "the best laid plans of mice and men and marathon running wannabes oft go awry."
What If...?
Maybe it's a genetic trait. My aunt discussed anticipatory worry on her blog a while back. Maybe I've got a previously undiscovered anxiety disorder. Regardless of the origin of this habit, I often (like, really, really often), try to think of every possible thing that can go wrong, despite my firm belief that it's impossible to do so. Without fail, it is the things I don't think of that do go wrong. My conclusion, which makes complete sense in some part of my brain, is that if only I had thought about a stinking stress fracture (maybe just a stress reaction) that would put my legs on the couch instead of on the road for all these weeks in the middle of my training, it wouldn't have happened. Here are some of the things which will now not happen to interrupt my training or spoil my first marathon:
- Leg amputation after a shaving cut from a rusty razor
This, by the bye, is a pretty small sample of what I've found to worry about.
Missed Wood Knocking Opportunity
My calves were sore, first, but I kept running. The pain wasn't terrible, and once I was a few miles into each run, they would feel better. Then, there was that long, hilly run. My left knee started to sing in awful harmony along with my calf, and kept feeling worse and worse with each passing day. Probably 8 different times, I said to different family members and friends, "I'm sure it isn't anything serious. Nothing broken or torn or really damaged." Do you think I knocked on wood any of the times that I said those words? Nope.
This image shall serve to remind us all that I did, at one point not so long ago, run. I even outran all but 1 person in my age group this time, and earned a medal. Oh! And remember how I used to smile?!
Knocking on wood is pointless and silly. Certainly, doing so wouldn't have changed anything. Right? Right. Although the knee pain wasn't getting any better, and the calf pain was still there, I tried every few days to run a few miles. The last time I did so was Saturday. I limped/hobbled/made horrid faces for the entire 1.5 miles, and while I showered afterward, I kept distracting myself with reminders of how many times I had been in worse pain. (Pre-epidural. Migraine.) With ice, the swelling went down, but the spot on my tibia which felt as though a very mean, very tiny person was chiseling away, did not feel better the next day, or the day after. After spending some way too much time researching, and after shrieking my way through the hop test, I'm pretty sure that I have a serious problem.
So, here I sit, trying to be calm, trying not to vomit every time I think about/hear about/see anyone running. I've decided to take a few weeks totally off from running. If all goes well, I'll still have over 5 weeks to prepare for my first marathon. No, that isn't even close to as much time as I had planned, but it is better than no weeks.
If all goes poorly, well, I'm sure there's good reason. I'm also sure that my marathon will not necessarily be the one that I can't get out of my head right this minute. I will rest. I will stay calm. I will smile. Eventually, I will run. My legs will carry me where I want to go. My regular pace will, again, be less than 9 minutes/mile. I will run a marathon. And, I will resist the urge to knock on wood as I type, because I'm not superstitious.
My advice for you today is to run when you can run, and rest when you need to rest. Oh, and have yourself a listen to this!
Do you believe in jinxes? Do you worry about things in advance?
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