I'm Engaged!

I can hardly contain my excitement, and I can hardly wait for my special day.  No, this is not a Throwback Thursday post, as I'm not talking about my engagement to Husband.

That engagement ended in a fabulous wedding and blissful marriage.

I don't have a new diamond to show off, and I don't have any dress shopping to do.  I wasn't even proposed to, actually.  I haven't called all my family members and changed my relationship status on Facebook.  However, this is a big deal for me.  Huge.  Epic, as 6 y.o. would say (although he uses that word waaaaaay too liberally, these days [I've been wondering- can something be more epic than something else?  Is there such thing as 'a little bit epic'?  I find myself agreeing with him, that the dinner I cooked is indeed, epic.  But then, I backtrack and say something like, "Well, I mean, not epic epic, but pretty epic."  Ah, who am I kidding?  I know that

 was at least a little bit more epic than

my fantastic Chili Chicken Crescents {a.k.a., "Imperial Walkers"-named by 6 y.o.}].  So, yeah, this engagement falls somewhere in between Wednesday dinner and world-altering battle on the scale of epicicity.)    If you're not ready for my big news, this is the part where you should stop reading.  Here goes: I've chosen which marathon will be my first.  I've made a mental and psychological and heartfelt commitment, which is pretty much the same thing I did when I was engaged to be married.  There is nothing legally or financially binding me and my marathon-to-be together, yet, but that doesn't mean I'm going to just run, willy nilly, with no training plan and no hard work.  So what if I haven't actually signed up for it?  The registration price doesn't increase until July 31st!  I think this engagement period is very important.  I have a few weeks to change my mind before the invitations are sent and the family members start requesting time off work, see?  Not that I'm going to change my mind, of course.  Think about this:  how often do you hear about people cheating on their fiance?  Not that often, right?  I'm pretty sure that more spouses cheat than engaged folks, because they committed too fast or to the wrong person.  (That is not true for me and Husband, mind you.  We're desperately in love with each other.)  I'm 99% sure that I've chosen the right marathon, and that I'm going to be healthy, injury-free, and ready for it.  I just don't think there's anything wrong with my having an open relationship with my race-to-be, for now.

Our love is epic.

I've chosen to run the Savannah Rock 'n' Roll marathon on November 9, 2013.  18 weeks and 2 days from now.  The timing of the race is just right.  Although I'm one of the world's worst procrastinators, I'm also rather impatient when I'm excited about an upcoming event.  Early November is pretty near the beginning of racing season for us Southerners, so I won't have to endure too many marathon stories from my runner friends before I have one of my own.  Plus, there's a training plan I like that is 18 weeks long.  Also, when I think about it, the rock 'n' roll aspect is pretty fitting for a rocker like me.  This series of races includes live music along the course and a concert at the finish line.  I was/am a little bit nervous about the popularity of the race series (there are R'n'R races all over the country, they're well advertised, not disgustingly expensive, and make 26.2 miles seem like it'll be a long party full of sweaty strangers) making it too big for my liking, but realistically, the size of the field probably won't effect my performance much at all.

Savannah is the oldest city in Georgia, the home of racism and butter Paula Deen, and is really quite charming.  The climate isn't much different from home, and the elevation isn't much higher, which is nice for training purposes.

The whole race course will be this serene and beautiful.  Right?

The drive there from my home in central Florida will only take about 3 1/2 hours.  We will have to stay in a hotel, which makes me a little bit anxious because of Baby's aversion to sleeping in beds other than her own.  I came up with a still-secret plan, though, that makes me think the traveling will not be so bad.

There you have it, friends.  I'm engaged to run a marathon in a few months.  In the meanwhile, I'm going to be putting an obscene number of miles under my feet, producing gallons of sweat, learning lots, and getting stronger every day.  I hope you'll follow my training and offer me some encouragement along the way.  I'm going to need it, I think.  Unlike being the bride, beautiful, glowing, pampered and fussed over on her wedding day, this engagement is going to end with me filthy, stinky, disheveled, exhausted and in a lot of pain.  Let's just hope that the arch I smile under that day has the word "FINISH".

Any training advice for me?  

Would you rather train for a marathon or plan a wedding?

UPDATE: Remember how I'm not really a "math girl"?  Yeah.  Totally miscountedcalculated and I have to admit it because otherwise I'll seem even more of a dummy later on.  The marathon was 20 weeks from when I posted this, not just over 18.  Still, training starts soon!

Dear Science,

I don't pretend to understand you.  I mean, we're acquainted, but not the best of friends.  You might not realize this, but I've been enamored with you since 2nd grade when we planted beans and made rock candy.  We grew apart for a while, and then my love for you was rekindled when I was 13 and stayed true until, well, you got kinda math-y on me.  If only I could  have discovered all your hidden beauty and mystery without such bothers as "accurate measurement" and "statistical significance" and "physics."  Sigh.

Sweet!

I know that our relationship was not exclusive, and you probably didn't even notice when I abandoned you after college.  I had been distancing myself from you ever since that Biology 101 class during my Freshman year, when we weren't allowed to dissect anything, grow anything, or DO anything except take the end-of-chapter quizzes and watch movies (stupid, lazy, no-lesson-plans professor, tore us apart!).  Bo-ring.

My son learned more while feeding the ducks and turtles at the pond than I learned that entire semester.

The thing is, Science, I've still got a thing for you.  I know, I know.  I've been away too long, it will never work, we're too different now.  I don't expect us to pick up where we left off all those years ago.  We've both moved on.  What I really need now is for you to be more open and communicative with those who love you and who have been so dedicated to you.  I'm sure you've heard this before; folks come crawling back to you when they're looking for answers and realize that you're the key to solving their troubles.  Maybe I am being selfish.  But won't you please at least consider my requests?  Remember, we don't have to get back together for me to be happy.  I don't want to make you feel awkward, trying to get me caught up on all I've missed, and we both know that we'd have to waste lots of time reviewing things you had already shown me back when I was young and smart and had no children of my own to replace my deep, introspective contemplation of important, relevant things with thoughts of chicken nuggets, goldfish crackers, and Dora's explorations vs. Blue's clues.

Request #1- A cure for migraine headaches.  I realize there are awful, deadly diseases, afflictions more painful, and physical problems which are much, much harder to deal with than migraines.  Remember how I mentioned being selfish a minute ago?  Yes, this is a selfish request.  Let me modify it, slightly.  If I could just understand the migraines- the causes, symptoms, effective treatments, how long I can be suffering from one before everyone calls me a sissybaby behind my back, whether there is any real prevention method- that would be fantastic.  To make it easier on you, Science, I will gladly volunteer to have your Ists to study my brain, ask me questions, be fascinated by the auras that show up like clockwork before the pain sets in, and give me experimental drugs.

These poor, sweet children have to whisper when their Mom has a migraine, as their normal speaking voices bring tears of pain to her eyes.

Request #2- A cure for food allergies.  Not Lactaid.  That stuff tastes like drywall painted with toothpaste and doesn't even help relieve pain.  Not an epi-pen to save the life of the kid who accidentally ingested a peanut.  Not slightly-less-disgusting-than-they-used-to-be gluten-free products.  Food allergies are so unfair, and we need a cure.

Oreo cookie dunked in cold, creamy milk?  No.  Ice cream cone?  Nope.  Cranberry chutney stuffed brie cheese with fruit and crackers?  Negative.  Alfredo sauce?  Not unless it's made from cauliflower and soy milk.  Grilled cheese sandwich?  Mac-n-cheese?  Mashed potatoes?  Brown butter tortellini?  Pizza????  Sorry, Baby.  You can't have any of those things.  

Come on, Science.  We all know that you hold the key to unlocking all the mysteries of digestion, indigestion, and allergic reactions in the palm of your mysterious hand.  Won't you please show it to us?

Request #3- A self-cleaning floor.  Yeah, so I'm back to making selfish requests.  But before you shrug me off, think about this:  EVERYONE (and I don't think that's an exaggeration!) would like a floor that cleaned itself.  I'm not talking about a Roomba or whatever that creepy thing is that runs into walls all on its own.  I'm talking Jetsons-style.  Okay, so I think Rosie actually cleaned their floors, but I just mean their style.  I want to press a button on the wall or speak a few words aloud and have my floor obey immediately.  You know how there are little gutter bumpers that come up in the lane when it's a kid's turn to bowl?  I imagine that those kind of things would pop up from under the floor to barricade the area that was being cleaned.  The vacuum suction would come from underneath, as would the water and soap for the mopping.  Finally, the floor would be dried quickly so that it could be walked on almost without interruption.  (I think you've already let us figure out the dryers, actually.  Those automatic hand dryers in park bathrooms are pretty stinkin' powerful.  That had to be your doing, Sci [Can I call you Sci?  No?  You're afraid of being mistaken for a much-too-well-known, can't-believe-anyone-listens to this, so-called rapper?  Gotcha.].  Thanks!)  The best part?  Even if the floor had just been cleaned when someone spilled their soy milk or tracked mud in or dropped cooked couscous, with the simple press of a button and zero complaining, it could be clean again within minutes!

It's true that wethey've discovered a lot about you already, Science, and don't think me ungrateful.  Louis CK says in that viral video that I can't seem to find, "Everything's amazing and nobody's happy."  Everything is amazing, but I am happy, even though you and I have lost touch.  It's just...I think it's about time for a new Science Revolution (wait a sec- a "new revolution"- that's poorly worded, eh?  Oh, well.  Probably nobody will care, unless you let your sister-in-law, English, read this letter).

(Oops.  I think it's against the rules to end a paragraph with a set of parentheses, too?  Please don't show this letter to English!  Or to Grammar, for that matter!)

Sincerely,

Friendly in Florida

p.s.
Here's a bit of advice that I need to remember more than you do, Science:  Be smart.  Think.  Create.  Experiment.  Your ideas might just bring fame and fortune to yourself and some Ists!

p.p.s. (tee hee!  p p!)
Yes, I know how to spell 'scientists'.  I realize there's a 't' before the 'ists'.  Lemme alone, I can call 'em 'ists' if I want to!