RUN

If you make it through this entire post, then you are a dedicated friend. And I love you.

It has been three days since I ran my first marathon and in those three days, I have been through the whole gamut of emotions. Five and a half years ago, I hadn't even started running. And when I did start, I couldn't even make it a full mile without having to slow to a walk. On Saturday, I ran 26.2 miles. To be here is incredible to me. I have accomplished something that I had never anticipated doing. It has taken strength and determination that I didn't know I possessed.
The week leading up to the race was pure hell. I doubted my ability to run that distance. Nerves kept me on edge the entire week. It became a mental challenge to even WANT to run a marathon. But I continued on and prepared myself for the race - down to every detail. The race day dawned and my nerves were gone (which I'm sure had everything to do with the fact that I woke up at 3am and nothing to do with confidence). Nerves were gone, that is, until the bus approached the starting line out in the dark desert of Usery Park. It was 5am. And 32°. I pulled myself from the warmth of the bus and decided to stop by the porta-potties for one last go. 200+ people deep. So I waited. If I've learned anything from my limited running experience, it's that you DO NOT try to hold it. Unbeknownst to me, the gun went off while I was going to the bathroom. Not a big deal as your timing chip does not start until you cross the starting line. I made a few last minute adjustments to my gear and I was off without hesitation. It was time to run. Within 100 yards of the starting line, I had to ditch my gloves. I knew my hands would freeze, but I could not get a good grip on my water bottles. Off the gloves went. I glanced at my watch after the first mile and was shocked to see that my pace was an 8 minute mile. I eased up on speed to avoid burning out. At mile 6, I decided to eat some fuel. With endurance running, your body needs to be replenished every few miles in order to maintain blood sugar and carbohydrate levels. I use caffeinated sports beans by jelly belly; I had packed 4 packs of sports beans in the pouch of one of my water bottles. As I was fishing a pack out with my numb hands, the pack of beans fell to the ground. Gone. 3 packs left. I was more careful with the next pack. Eating and running proved to be a challenge, so I decided to walk for the next fuel break. At mile 12, I finally slowed to a walk for the first time in the race. I grabbed 1 of 2 remaining packs of sports beans and ate them as quickly as possible. The moment the last of the beans were in my mouth, I was running again. At about mile 16, I noticed the "heat"; running in 40° weather with a long sleeve compression top no longer felt comfortable. Knowing that my family was waiting at mile 18, I made the decision to alter my wardrobe. At mile 17, I slowed to a walk and started removing my bib number as quickly as I could to transfer it to my undershirt. Off when my long sleeve shirt. I moved my gear around between the pouches of my water bottles in order to ditch one. Once everything was organized, I picked up my pace and focused on speed. As I approached mile 18, I could see my family waiting to cheer me on. I yelled for the mr. to come grab the excess items as I ran past. At mile 19, I reached into my pouch for the last of my fuel. Gone. NO sports beans. I panicked. The thing about being a runner AND being a lactose intolerant celiac is that I cannot rely on what is handed out at the race stations; I have to pack my own fuel. I needed a miracle to carry me through the last 7 miles. It came in the form of oranges. The next 3 race stations were handing out orange slices and I nearly cried in relief. At mile 20, I expected to hit a wall. I felt the pain of running, sure, but no wall. No, the wall came at me like a freaking freight train at mile 22. I couldn't do it anymore. I texted the mr. and told him I couldn't finish. I was walking. I was swearing. I was quitting. But I'm too stubborn for my own good. The mental deterioration tried to pulled me down, but I fought against it. I told myself NO. I told myself JUST RUN. So I did. I ran on and off for the next 2.5 miles, walking when I felt like quitting. It was one of the most difficult inward struggles that I have ever faced - whether to give up or to keep going. At mile 24.5, I KNEW that I could finish - that I could run without stopping. I pushed myself step by step until I hit the 26 mile marker. At that point, I took off at a full sprint, running harder than I ever had in my life. I passed several people on the way to the finish line with only one goal in mind: FINISH THIS DAMN THING. And I did - without even realizing that the mr. and the littles were watching and screaming at me from the sidelines. I was done. I wanted my freaking medal. The first person that I saw after finishing the marathon was a friend that I have known since birth. Over the last year, she has become one of my greatest sources of inspiration and encouragement (outside of the mr., of course). She had run the Phoenix Half Marathon that morning with her husband and sister before waiting for me at the finish line. To top it off, she just gave birth to her youngest 12 weeks ago. She's incredible.
If you had asked me Saturday if I would do it again, my answer would have been a swift NO. But now, three days out and feeling great, I'm already fantasizing about my next marathon and what I need to do to increase my speed. 4:35:37 is not good enough for me. I want a sub 4-hr marathon. And if I get there, I know I will push for Boston. It's who I am - constantly trying to PR and go further.

365.3: WEEK 8

Last week was insanity - pure insanity. I spent the week trying to preoccupy myself to keep my mind off my upcoming marathon. It only half worked. If you had any interaction with me over the past week, I'm guessing that you realized rather quickly that I was a nervous wreck. It was awful. But here we are. Which means that I survived not only the week, but the marathon as well. I won't even begin to describe the emotions that I feel about that - I'm saving that for another post. Our weekly recap. Baking cookies on Presidents' Day. Rearranging the toy room. Climbing tall rope towers. Picking out books at the library. 1st grade field trip to the zoo. RUNNING A FREAKING MARATHON. Managing to get along.

February 19th - February 25th

LOVE DAY

Sometimes I get so desperate for a photo of the day that I do something ridiculously spontaneous and fun, like make sugar cookies. The day before Valentine's Day was one such day. I came up with the idea of making cookies after picking my kids up from school and immediately set to work when we arrived home. I found a recipe on Pinterest and, luckily, I had all of the ingredients on hand. Once the dough was made, my heart dropped; I was suppose to let the dough chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours. I did not have that kind of time or daylight (because pictures), so into the freezer the dough went. 15 minutes later, I was cutting out hearts and putting cookies into the oven. The kids had a blast frosting the cookies and adding a plethora of sprinkles. Because it ended up being such a fun activity, I may or may not make sugar cookies more often for holidays. On Valentine's Day, we brought a plate full of our cookies to the park and met up with some dear friends. It was a blast, despite the rain. On the way home from the park, I brought the kids to this purple wall (in a public parking lot) and acted like an idiot until they were all laughing for pictures. Normally, I'd fuss over the rain-streaked wall or the raindrops on their clothes, but this was our day. This is what I wanted to capture - real memories.

365.3: WEEK 7

I have days where I dread this project. But then a holiday comes and makes it a tad bit easier. Thank you, Valentine's Day. You shall get your own post. This past week was full of fun doings. Swinging out back. Decorating heart cookies. My little Valentines. Loving on my littlest. Eating leftover candy. Flying kites. Hugging cousins.

February 12th - February 18th

365.3: WEEK 6

Still going strong. Actually, I received inspiration from a friend today that I may incorporate with my photos in the future. I also intend to include photos of myself on days where my anxiety gets the best of me. Let's be honest, I often feel like a hot mess. But there are days where my anxiety overwhelms me to the point of having full-blown anxiety attacks. I feel that this needs to be seen. Visually. There are two reasons for this: first, social media gives us this false illusion of people and their "perfect" lives. I have received comments on how happy my kids are or how skinny I look and I'll say this now - it's bullshit (yes, I swear). I know when and how to capture the better moments; it is not for a lack of equally negative ones. TRUST ME. Second, I think that there are quite a few other people experiencing this overwhelming anxiety, so I am speaking up about it. It is real. It can consume you. And that isolated feeling that often accompanies it can be crippling. So I want to open up. I want you to see me as I am, not just the better side of me. Anyway, here's our week. Crying over a busted lip. New dens for cub scouts. Climbing at the park. Flying paper airplanes. Field trip to the Commemorative Air Force Museum. Cheering on team USA in the Olympics. Handling another anxiety attack.

February 5th - February 11th

SNOWSTORM

We all know that I am a little bit crazy. But I may have outdone myself a few weeks ago. I've made it a tradition for my kids to play in the snow each year around Christmastime because, well... it's just magical (until it's not - and we walk that fine line every year). We tried TWICE after Christmas, but Arizona decided to be hotter than hell and refused to dump any white, powdery snow until well after the New Year. Finally, after weeks of waiting, snow was in the forecast. So we decided to make the trip up to Flagstaff one more time. Weather predictions changed, as they always do, and the start of snowfall kept getting pushed back later and later. Being the persistent stubborn person that I am, I did not allow this to deter us. This resulted in us driving to Flagstaff in the first SNOWSTORM of the season. Something that neither I nor my husband has ever done. It took four long hours to make the trip up north. What started as rain quickly turned to snow. Between the black ice, accident-related delays, and piling snow, we decided to cut our trip short. We stopped long enough in Flagstaff to grab a bite to eat and use the restroom before making the return trip home - we hardly felt like being stuck overnight due to inclement weather. Looks like we are going to have to try again next year.
Let me just note that there was ZERO snow on the ground when we left home in the morning. AND that a plow had just cleared the parking lot 2 minutes prior to the last set of photos...