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May 31, 2006
The Top Ten Reasons To Run The Buffalo Marathon With Madeline and Heather!
10. When you purchase LAST years’ marathon shirts for a very affordable price, only M. and H. will happily accept and not accuse you of being the running poser that you truly are. (“The 2005 Buffalo Marathon? Oh, sure…I ran it. Uh, yeah, it was a blast.”)
9. The 5-hour round trip car ride afforded us the opportunity to engage in deep, meaningful, uninterrupted child-free conversation. We covered such diverse topics as adolescent development, politics, gardening, and the merits of down filled pillows (and the use of said pillows to raise ones’ hips to a proper level for …well, you know.)
8. Even a pessimistic, negative curmudgeon like myself wells up with emotion when total strangers, not even affiliated with the race, give me bananas and bottled water. It restores one’s faith in mankind, AND provides one with essential electrolytes and hydration.
7. Marathons, coupled with a lack of kitchen supplies, compel one to become a very resourceful “cook”. We learned, for instance, that running hats make excellent bowls in which to mix dried pineapple, apricots, gummy bears and Starbursts. (Feel free to e-mail any one of us for the exact recipe for our Hat Casserole. Soooo tasty!!) see the pic of hat casserole on flickr
6. While M. and I were supporter-less, it was all good, because H. graciously lent us her amazingly wonderful partner and parents. Though we met H.’s parents only hours before the race, they cheered their lungs out for us. (And for people who are only slightly larger than the average Hummel, they’ve got healthy sets of lungs!)
5. We ALL set personal records. That’s right - each and every one of us ROCKS!!!!! Truth be told – we ARE the definition of speed. Go Team Yonker!
4. OK, OK…Number five is a bit of a stretch. While it is true that we each set PRs, we are nowhere NEAR the definition of speed. It’s ok, though, because we finished, thereby avoiding the dreaded DNF designation. Even more importantly, (and thanks to the makers of Immodium) we finished with stain-free shorts and that is no mean feat! YEAH!!!
3. The gross incompetence of the Hyatt Regency (Do NOT stay here, ever, even if you are stranded in Buffalo, you’ve collapsed in their lobby and a ravenous pack of scrofulous warthogs is nipping at your heels. Trust me – take your chances with the hogs.) provided M.’s Brian with many lascivious mental images. He was afforded these images because the damned Hyatt messed up our room request, giving us one king-sized bed rather than two doubles, and being a guy, he’s immediately visualizing a pillow fight in lacy bustiers and fishnet stockings leading to some serious girl-on-girl action. And he’s generally a very decent guy, deserving of a lascivious image or two.
2. My Chuck used our marathon jaunt to once again demonstrate that he is the World’s Best Husband. Not only did he tackle a few jobs on my never ending to-do list and bake me a chocolate frosted Running Moose cake, he also spent ages rubbing BenGay into my aching, pathetic, nearly paralyzed knees when I returned. And he only mocked me a little for my shuffling, zombie-like gait. Also, he did NOT use my time away to purchase outrageously expensive lawn and garden machinery as he had threatened to do. Is that not love?
1. We burned THOUSANDS of calories, and therefore felt entitled to devour nearly ALL of the items on the salad bar at Ponderosa. We moved in like a plague of starving locusts with overactive tapeworms, leaving Ponderosa with but a few crumbs to serve their remaining guests. Also, you will never appreciate food quite so much as when you are in a post-marathon delirium state. Soooo yummy. Who knew that Ponderosa employees were trained by demanding, perfectionist chefs in the finest gourmet restaurants? I know, I know….those hairnets and grease-stained aprons fooled me, too, at first. Give Ponderosa a try, though… a guaranteed gastronomic orgasm for just $12.99.
All in all, a WONDERFUL run. Thanks, Madeline and Heather, for a great experience!!!! Are you ready for the BoilerMaker??!! We ARE the definition of speed!
Posted by at 09:46 PM | Comments (3)
May 30, 2006
marathons are like having babies
...in that your mind conveniently forgets just how agonizing the process is, and so you stupidly DO IT AGAIN, because you somehow cannot remember HOW MUCH IT HURTS.
If it is any consolation, this one did not hurt as bad as the first, simply because we were able to properly train. This time we had 2 20-milers under our belts, which I think made a big difference for me both mentally and physically.
Deb and I left on a lovely overcast Saturday afternoon, blessed with an EZ Pass we ganked from my Brian and Deb's huge bag full o' snizzacks. There are many funny funny FUNNY things that we shared with one another in the car, both on the way there and on the way back, that I sadly cannot recount publicly. Suffice it to say that I was nearly crying and crashing the car on the thruway because of a story she told about a down pillow leaking its feathers. SHE IS SO FUNNY.
We got to Buffalo without a problem--but the hotel was pretty crappy. I mean, it was a Hyatt and all, but we stood in line for damn ever to check in, and then our room was wrong, and then they f*cked up nearly every single other thing that we requested, etc. And ESPN was stuck on that commercial with Frank and Marie (or those respective actors) from _Raymond_. Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed (probably complaining), but the screen was skipping and blipping making Frank's hand flop and flip in his lap, making it look like he was working hard to go blind.
Race morning Deb and I woke (withOUT our requested wake-up call, the Hyattsuxthankyouverymuch) and began immediately to hop and do jumping jacks around the room to encourage some movement from our intestines. We were both soon successful, but both wary of the rebellious nature of our bowels so we Immodium-ed up anyway. I changed my shirt a couple of times, going back and forth between a tank top and a T-shirt. I settled on the T shirt, for reasons that I forget now.
The start/finish lines were right out the front door of the hotel, so we made our way to the middle of the pack. Deb and Runningburro compared their pacing bracelets with another nice runner, who had fashioned her own. Deb had made and laminated one for me, but I was NOT going to set myself up for that kind of failure. Just out to finish, that's me.
Once the gun went off, Rb and I lost Deb almost immediately. I kept an eye on her for maybe a mile, but then she was gone. The first 5 or so miles of the race was lovely--we ran through a park and alongside the lake and past a marina. The breeze was cool and the views were neat. Rb and I made some small talk, but mostly I bugged her about what our pace was (Rb has the nifty and highly-coveted-by-me GPS), which varied between a slow 9 and a fast 10.
We Gu-ed at about mile 7. Rb was pretty grossed out by hers (I think she did a berry-flavored one) and said it nearly came right back up. Urp. We took them strategically right before a water stop so we could wash their thick ick down. I was doing chocolate, which I contend is not bad if you imagine you are sucking up chocolate frosting.
The best part of the run was miles 9-thru-someting (maybe 12 or 13), where we meandered through a large wooded cemetary. It was during this leg that I talked Rb to death, telling her stories about my family and singing songs. Gah--she probably wanted to shove me into the bushes. But I felt *really* good, really solid and rhythmic. At one point as we left the cemetary Rb stopped to pee and I waited outside and helped a volunteer at a waterstop pick up cups. It felt good to squat and lean down. The only discomfort I had was a slight chafe under my arms from my (poorly-selected) shirt.
The next section took us up a large divided highway and into a city park, which was pretty gross. Aside from the stench of dogshit hanging in the humid air, there wasn't a leaved tree to be found. Plus I remember the road being sloped severely, which I try to avoid because of my dumb IT band.
Then we trekked across town through some residential neighborhoods--probably through mile 17 or 18. There were some shady lanes and some friendly faces giving out licorice and pretzels (the licorice was pretty good--but I just looked at the young girl offering pretzels and thought, "WHAT? I'm going to eat a DRY nasty pretzel NOW?? I don't think so." And I smiled told her thanks anyway). Lots of people sat out in their front yards with their water hoses which was sooooo nice.
Somewhere, though, between miles 15 and 17, my right knee blew out. Completely. As in, holy crap my leg isn't really doing what my brain is telling it to do, and when it DOES what I tell it to do it HURTS!! Rb was kind and we did a little walking, but I knew that an under-5 race was now completely out of the question for me. Stooopid IT band.
The next few miles are a blur. I remember a waterstop somewhere as we entered the nasty park again, with a *very* rude spectator/volunteer yelling and clapping and telling the runners that there was only 90 minutes until the course closed down and that we should PICK IT UP. Like, he really DID say "pick it up," I was not simply having an aural hallucination (as I have in the past). I cursed him under my breath, and then as we approached him I cursed louder, hoping he would overhear my expletive-ridden diatribe in his honor.
Near mile 20 (though we missed that marker somehow, so I'm not certain where we were exactly), an ambulance and fire truck passed us, sirens ablaze. I was so out of it that I didn't even have the energy to rubber my neck around when we got to where they had stopped, and soon after I convinced Rb to go on without me. She stubbornly refused at first, but I managed to sneakily let her leave me by slowing my pace down to near-stopping.
The sun was hot, my knee hurt, and now my first toe on my left foot felt like the nail had dislodged itself and was getting jammed back into my nailbed. I imagined my toe, sticky with blood, nail-free and the nail floating around in my shoe. I got my iPod out and found some solace in a few angst-filled Live songs. After what seemed like not even a mile, the freeekin battery died. Stooopid iPod.
I walked/ran the last 4 or so miles, feeling a mix of anger and sorrow. Anger because really, I felt strong and good except for my gimpy knee and that I should be running and making good time. Sorrow because...I'm not sure. Probably because I felt alone (people kept passing me) and because I felt sorry for myself and my gimpy knee.
Near mile 25 the course funneled me back into down town and I began passing restaurants serving lunch. Oh, the smells were enough to get me back into a decent, if crooked, jog! I can only imagine what I must have looked like: my face red-purple with flush and covered in salt and sweat, my hair hanging out of my hat in a gnarled braid, sweat staining my shirt and shorts in all the gross places. People I passed either gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up, or cocked their heads and looked at me quizzically. I smiled largely at them all. I passed some men sitting in an outdoor cafe, eating their post-race feast, their medals shining around their necks. As I approached them, they clapped and told me I was almost there. I flashed my winning-est smile and said "Thanks!" Then one of them said, "Hey, you should come back and join us when you're done."
Um. Yeah, dude. Did you SEE me?? If I had the time or energy, I would have politely declined, explaining that Deb and I had an important date with a Ponderosa in Batavia which I could NOT BREAK. Instead I think emitted a horrible, nervous, high-pitched giggle and kept running.
I came into the final stretch, traced Niagara circle in front of city hall, and started back toward the Hyatt. A man called to me: "Hey, you have to run one more block south!!"
I laughed, thinking that he was making the most unfunny, unkind joke ever made. And then I noticed out of the corner of my eye that there were indeed cones indicating that I was supposed to run one more block south.
Fuck.
But hey. What's one more block when you've just covered a gazillion?
Back in the hotel, I discovered the extent of my chafe, and the UNextent of my toenail loss. Imagine my disappointment when I unpeeled my sock to find my toenail intact. I so wished to be able to tell the story of running until my toenail fell off and floated around in my shoe, but alas it isn't so. The toenail isn't even purple; it's just a kind of yellow-white (which is a decidedly different color than the rest of my toenails, but it just doesn't project the true nature of my toe pain).
The chafe, however, is a true battle scar. I had swaths of red road rash two inches wide sweeping both underarms. The chafe remains; now it's brown and scabby (and hurts far less in the shower than it did on Sunday).
So, here's my line from the results:
596 (overall place)
535 (bib)
5:37:49 (gun time)
MF30-34 (class)
35/35 (class place) -- [I was the last woman between the ages of 30 and 34 to finish]
172 (gender place)
12:53 (per mile pace)
5:37:29 (chip time)
Rb and I decided that we'll do the Presque Isle (in Erie, PA) next September (2007) as a celebration for finishing our dissertations.
I'll have forgotten how much it hurts by then.
Posted by mryonker at 04:04 PM | Comments (5)
May 29, 2006
back from buffalo
We're back, and we're NOT CRIPPLED.
This pic taken shortly before we heroically attempted to cripple ourselves during the Buffalo marathon. More photos to come (they're on flickr already, though, if you're too impatient to wait).
Runningburro and Deb have agreed to join with me in blogging the race, so in a few short days you'll have not one but *three* accounts of agony, delirium, and cartharsis.
Posted by mryonker at 08:44 AM | Comments (2)
May 26, 2006
beefalo
Deb, Runningburro, Rainbowhair, and I are off tomorrow afternoon to "The All America City." I've always wondered, as we travel through Buffalo several times a year en route to WV, why that sign they've got on the thru-way doesn't say "The All AmericaN City." I make fun of it mercilessly (all-america because we only do things half-assed--or because we don't want to shell out the extra cash for an N, etc), but I figure that really the sign MUST be correct or meaningful in a way that I don't understand because what the hell do I know, anyway?
Well. That was a bit of a rant. Sorry. What I really mean to post about is the fact that this week I have been on the "pre-marathon diet." Not anything too terribly scientific, but I have deprived myself of most meat, all alcohol, caffeine, soda, and SALAD. I have subsisted for 5 days on whole wheat peanut butter and honey sandwiches, bagels, pasta, bananas, apples, and water. And for breakfast every day I've had frosted shredded wheat.
I feel pretty decent. The idea is that you get yourself all carbed up, and keep yourself from the known food items that irritate your GI, and for me, that's pretty much everything.
I went to Fleet Feet yesterday to gear up, and got a carrier from Nathan Sports. I also got a pair of Balega Enduro Socks, and a goofy hat and 6 packets of Gu.
I ran with the Nathan this morning, and I packed it full of the Gu and my iPod to see if I could handle the feel of wearing it. It rides great, even full of crap. There was no bouncing, and it's very soft (neoprene is nifty stuff).
And then, because I'm such a big dork, I wore the damn thing all day as I was running errands because I've ALWAYS HATED PURSES but of course I always leave my wallet laying around everywhere.
I am a big dork. But I'm a big excited dork (excitement increases dorkiness exponentially, I'm sure) because the race is in TWO DAYS and I'm SO READY.
Bring it on, Beefalo.
Posted by mryonker at 04:14 PM | Comments (0)
May 24, 2006
it's a boy!!
Fran had a boy, 9lbs 10oz. We tend toward large babies I think (my J-baby was 9lbs 5 oz). The birth was short and uneventful. Jeff delivered him (with the midwife standing by). His name might be River Grant, though they still had not settled definitively on a name yesterday afternoon. I'll post a pic here when she sends me one.
And in celebration of baby boys, I offer a pic from my house yesterday, after I crawled into the attic to get the Duplos and several train sets that Jack used to play with.
I brought them down so Josh would have "new" toys and would leave me alone whilst I put my reading notes into DEVONthink (which, let me say, is what every mom needs: A SUPPLEMENTARY BRAIN!!). What you might not be able to see clearly in the pic is Josh's snack: a small bowl of goldfish. That he's crumbled into a million dusty pieces.
The JOY OF BOYS.
Posted by mryonker at 09:35 AM | Comments (4)
May 23, 2006
labor day!!
Got the call early this morning. Baby sister is in labor with #2.
Will she have a boy or girl?? Stay tuned...
Posted by mryonker at 08:38 AM | Comments (0)
May 22, 2006
yay. a growth spurt
What, you might ask, am I doing awake at 4:50 am?
My youngest son has been up for an hour, standing at my bedside, begging me for a bowl of cereal. I finally obliged him.
*yawn*
It will be fabulous when ALL my kids can pour their own cereal and milk.
Posted by mryonker at 05:43 AM | Comments (1)
May 21, 2006
i'm sure i've done this before
And if I haven't done it here, I did it a few weeks ago when Rainbowhair rode his recumbant next to me during the last mile of 20. He asked, "Why do you do this?" in his sweet, gentle, earnest way--without a speck of sarcasm. Dr. Write answers the Running: Why? question today, and I thought I'd add a few of my own justifications (because when I answered Rainbowhair, my answer was "I have no idea!!").
I run because on the days I do nothing else except chase kids and clean the house, I feel as though I've actually done something. Because staying at home and being mom really isn't doing anything, we all know that.
I run because it makes me feel strong and as though I can handle discomfort and pain. It makes me feel tough.
I run because when I get back I feel motivated to do stuff. Like, to sit on the couch after a run seems like a total waste.
I run because it helps me sleep.
I run because it gets me some time outside of the house, away from the kids (although I do take them with me occasionally).
I run because then I can stop. Nothing feels better (except maybe for, well, you know) than slowing to a walk after a hard run.
I run because I want to set a healthy example for my kids. I want them to see the value in being outside and the ways that things worth doing can sometimes be unpleasant.
I run so Deb (or Runningburro) and I can share our most intimate secrets. No one knows you better than your running partner(s). There is a deep connection made between people who share runs.
I run because I eat too much.
I run because I like races. And only 6 more days until Buffalo!
Posted by mryonker at 07:18 PM | Comments (0)
May 19, 2006
my kids are loud
Just a quick vignette from yesterday.
I'm standing at the kitchen counter, reading _Electric Rhetoric_ by Kathleen Welch. I've found that if I'm standing, I am less climb-on-able and thus less of a target for the J-baby.
Hannah has decided it's time to practice her tap routine [so add the noise of her brand new Bloch tap shoes, for which her grandma shelled out $60. Her lovely tap instructor showed her how to take a screwdriver and loosen the taps on the shoes so that they are *louder*. Yay. Also add the noise of Louis Jordan's "Choo Choo Cha-Boogie" over and over and over and over.]
Jack walks in, playing his Gameboy (volume up full blast, so insert the theme from Mario here), talking to me about his latest project (which is collecting bottle caps, putting nail holes in them, and stringing them into a snake) and asking me to "Watch this!" and "Can you beat this level for me mom?" and "Are we going to get me a first date* kit yet??"
Josh has his gi-normous Tonka truck (this one, it's big enough for them to push one another around in the dump), and he's running behind it, pushing it back and forth through the length of the house, and it's making a rumbling racket (plus Hannah keeps yelling at him at each pass he makes to "get out of [her] way!!").
Later on during the day, I've moved to the dining room table (where, since my legs are under the table, I have no visible lap as a target--though I'm still quite vulnerable). The boys have taken all the cushions from the couch and are jumping from the coffee table to the couch and back again. Hannah watches the Simpsons, full blast to hear it over the commotion the boys are generating.
I'm telling myself that it's good that I can work amidst such distraction, that it strengthens my ability to concentrate. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway.
*he actually wants a first AID kit. But he calls it a first date kit, which we find HIGH-larious.
Posted by mryonker at 08:10 AM | Comments (1)
May 17, 2006
they killed denny!
I've let this slip on occassion, though I'm not terribly proud of it and I'm not one to love on TV that much at all. But I love Grey's Anatomy. And Monday night, during the last hour I'll get to see until September or whenever, they killed Denny.
Once as an undergrad, I had an English Lit prof who really was a writer/poet (Sharon Weinstein, if you're out there, send me an email!!). She was the first person I ever showed any of my poetry to, and she was kind and sharp and honest. She told me once that in order to write well, one had to do horrible things to her characters. Well. I guess killing Denny was as horrible as the writers could muster.
Turned grades in yesterday. On the short list to do this week: continue reading for exams, write this short story banging around in my head, mud the third bedroom, clean the house.
In T-minus (what the heck does that mean, anyway??) 16 days I will have many extra people in my house, so I should probably clean my fridge, too. Blech.
Posted by mryonker at 11:16 AM | Comments (3)
May 09, 2006
twimmitt, aka godzilla kitty
Posted by mryonker at 11:47 PM | Comments (0)
nugget scoping his options
Posted by mryonker at 11:46 PM | Comments (0)
we're not really trying
Not really trying to get too attached to the kittens that are left. Over the weekend, I managed to unload four of them (Emmitt being among them, *sigh*).
The three that are left have taken to climbing all over the adults of the house (they smartly avoid the kids). If we're watching TV on the couch, they're laying on us or climbing our legs or chewing our hair.
Tonight we're in the office and they're pretty much terrorizing me. My desk, of course, is trashed as it is, but they're having a field day chewing the various chords, attacking my hands as I type, batting earbuds around, etc.
One seems to have taken a special liking to Brian. The minute Brian is still, one of the black ones is up his legs like he's a tree and inspecting his lap for a place to snooze. Tonight, since B was at the desk, his lap was buried under the keyboard, so Nugget (we're not really trying to name them, either, but somehow this one has become "Poop Nugget," or Nugget for short--don't ask me what's wrong with us) had to find a non-lap spot for his nap.
Ahem.
In case you're wondering, the temporary names of the others left are Twimmitt (for Emmitt's twin--he doesn't have the 'M' though) and Muttley (the other black one).
They're still up for grabs, people. And you *don't* have to use the names we've given them, of course.
Posted by mryonker at 11:44 PM | Comments (1)
May 08, 2006
a list because I'm tired and my writerly organizational skillz have left me for the moment
A quick running report from yesterday, the second and last 20-miler before the race on May 28th.
Deb and I drove to Onondaga Lake Park to run on the 5 mile trail (well, 2.5 mile out-and-back) along the lake. We met Runningburro and Rainbowhair, who planned to ride his recumbent bike in circles around us.
Several quick observations/comments:
1. the first 5 miles, and then the last single mile, were the hardest for me. Miles 6-15 were like CAKE.
2. the magic shoe friends worked really really well until the last mile when my pinky toes felt like fire and my big toe joints should have, by all reasonable accounts offered by my brain, exploded from my shoes in a gross bloody mess. But my knees, for the majority of the trek, held up nicely.
3. water from the fountain at the lake will not kill you, no matter what Deb the Syracuse native says. I drank, in total, over 60 ounces of cold water from the fountain, and I still walk today.
4. I say the "eF" word about three times per mile (counting those that I run/walk alone). Most frequently I offer it as a humorous addition to whatever cute comment I'm offering at the time (as in, "You better NOT run over the f&cking runners!" [she yells to the small toddler riding with training wheels] -- Actually, I might have said "god damn runners" but, you know, 6 in one...)
5. Runningburro has now been awarded the title of running nazi. I must note here that Deb relinquished said title graciously. Rb is simply out of her gourd, her little feet a spinning blur and her posture nearly perfect and her concentration intense and other-wordly. Holy CRAP SHE KICKED MY ASS. I am sooo bringing my iPod to this race because NO ONE WILL BE RUNNING WITH MY SORRY ASS. Deb and Rb are both bent on qualifying for Boston, which I have every confidence after yesterday that they COULD. And NO, I'LL BE PARTICIPATING IN NO SUCH NONSENSE. My crooked slow loping self will be content with the accompaniment of Sister 7, Toby Lightman, Arc Angels, and the rest of the crazy, mostly lame-o 80s artists I love.
6. Deb, of course, was able to keep up with Rb. In fact, Deb and Rb bonded rather well, which made me, their running mom, feel choky and verklempt.
7. After a stiff evening yesterday (my left hip was sore), I am mostly unhurt today, which I count as a good sign that I won't cripple myself in Buffalo. Running 20 miles makes you tired (I could barely stay up to watch Grey's last night, but by god I did) and hungry (I must have eaten a quart of salsa with corn chips yesterday--and today, well, suffice it to say by 4pm there was nothing left in the house for me to make for dinner).
Posted by mryonker at 11:06 PM | Comments (2)
May 05, 2006
my newest bestest friends
Runningburro and I had a mini-field trip yesterday to our local Fleet Feet. We each came away with some new best friends. This pic above is the style of my new friends, but mine are a LOVELY ORANGE where these are yellow.
I'm not a fan of orange, but when you go to Fleet Feet, you don't get to pick, uh, anything. They look at your old shoes, make you run on a treadmill with a camera pointed at the back of your legs/feet, ask you questions about weekly mileage, and then disappear to the back of the store making mental calculations based on your answers.
They *always* come out with the ugliest shoes for me--shoes that are not even on the display shelf they're so ugly. Orange for god's sake. But I am obedient and trusting and have only been disappointed when I convinced a salesperson to let me buy a pair of shoes before he put me on the treadmill with them. Those, my last pair, ended up being crap (for me, anyway). But they were silver and purple! Soooo pretty!
So, I get my new friends yesterday afternoon. B is in the throes of his final project (he's mike-ing a grinder that has about a million pieces, and NO, I don't really know what that means except that he's taken apart a grinder and is recreating it in some 3-D program that makes pictures like the ones you see in Chilton's manuals, where a clutch is taken apart in linear fashion so you can see every single piece and the way it fits in with the other bazillion little pieces). So he's staying late at the lab, and I don't expect him back until after dark. But I want to get out to give my new friends a try. So, I tell the kids to get some wheels (bikes or blades), pack the J-baby in the jogger, and we set out. Somewhere along the way, we pick up another neighbor kid on her bike, and Deb manages to catch us and tag along.
What a motely crew we were! Between me pushing the jogger, Hannah zooming down a hill on her blades and screaming because she can't stop (thanks, Deb, for catching her); Jack darting out into the middle of the road when I say "CAR!" to, I don't know, see if I'm lying; Josh hollering "YEE-haw!" everytime he spots a swingset or "Buh!" everytime he sees a truck or "Hoo!" everytime he sees a horse; the neighbor kid sweating and red-faced on her bike scaring me like she's going to have a heart attack trying to keep up (she also crashed into the ditch a handful of times); things were a little crazy.
And then my bladers got tired, so on several different occasions they would one of them grab the jogger and the other grab the back of my T-shirt and I would be pushing/dragging 150 extra pounds of kid.
The entire time Deb is laughing or wondering what the hell she did when she agreed to run with me and the kids. We've done it before; she knows that half the calories you burn running with kids is because your heart rate doubles each time one of them decides to trace the yellow line for a few yards. "Jack GET OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!!"
But, the friends were fab. Nary a twinge in the knees. I'm excited, and literally gearing up for our last long run this weekend (another 20)--I'm going back to FF to get a waist pack so I can carry Junior Mints.
Posted by mryonker at 07:49 AM | Comments (3)