I've been trying to do more running (although not enough yet to be considered serious) so that I could run the entire course of a 5K race coming up.
Today, I looked at my calendar to figure out what my availability was for something else. I happened to glance at the note in my calendar that I'm judging a 2-day meet out of state.
And the second day of the meet is the same day as my race.
When i informed my husband, he was not happy as he had (finally) registered us.
Argh. Since it's St. Patrick's day themed, I even had green gloves with bows for my daughter and I and cheap little green crowns.
And NOt going means I'm going to have to cram in another race somewhere if I'm going to hit this 10 event goal I set for myself (I was thinking one a month, but this means I'm now skipping February AND March and will need to find something else soon).
And I should probably train a little more than I've been able to, although this morning I couldn't speak without a coughing fit, so apparently I'm still not quite well enough to do anything anyway.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Ah, Memory Lane
Spent most of today getting a present ready for a birthday party for one of my daughter's friends. The party was at a local gymnastics club. While there, I was talking to the mom of the birthday girl and we were reminiscing about old gymnastics compulsory routines. She was prancing around doing the dance from one of them and another mom said, "Wow! Riverdance!"
We were totally laughing--the choreography from those old routines was, well, interesting. We were talking about a different routine and then spontaneously started doing it together, which struck me as hilarious, and then we ended up talking about equipment changes, new compulsory routines and what the kids are doing now.
Having been so in depth with gymnastics for the past 13+ years, and familiar with the progressions, I "get" why things are in place, so it was really interesting to hear the outside observations, which I could see why it looks like the system makes no sense (and in some ways, it doesn't).
We got home just in time to say goodbye to my husband who was off to work at the food cart, so another day of no progress on my goals.
The only "out" I have on that is I still feel rotten with this cold. Last year my husband was sick for nearly five months straight (turned out there were several deep underlying causes, including mercury poisoning), and I'm having a whole lot more sympathy for the ongoing "ugh" feeling he had.
We were totally laughing--the choreography from those old routines was, well, interesting. We were talking about a different routine and then spontaneously started doing it together, which struck me as hilarious, and then we ended up talking about equipment changes, new compulsory routines and what the kids are doing now.
Having been so in depth with gymnastics for the past 13+ years, and familiar with the progressions, I "get" why things are in place, so it was really interesting to hear the outside observations, which I could see why it looks like the system makes no sense (and in some ways, it doesn't).
We got home just in time to say goodbye to my husband who was off to work at the food cart, so another day of no progress on my goals.
The only "out" I have on that is I still feel rotten with this cold. Last year my husband was sick for nearly five months straight (turned out there were several deep underlying causes, including mercury poisoning), and I'm having a whole lot more sympathy for the ongoing "ugh" feeling he had.
Friday, February 25, 2011
I Am Officially Nothing
Just so you know, that title is NOT some sort of low-self esteem remark, but I will get to the explanation shortly.
After doing nothing yesterday, I had another great day of . . . nothing in terms of physical activity. My cold is still kicking my butt and although I'm feeling better, I'm still not recovered.
I had signed up to volunteer as a meet official at another college gymnastics meet. I was assigned to floor timer and line judge. Basically, I sit on the edge of the floor, all by myself, for a couple of hours, and get a close up of college gymnastics. Way fun and I don't have to do anything for it except 1) hitch a ride there since I refuse to pay for that much gas to volunteer and 2) run a stopwatch and, if needed, hold up a yellow flag.
I only had to hold up the yellow flag once.
I am going to remember, for my next time, to take earplugs. One of the major differences in college gymnastics is the EXTREME amount of yelling (cheering) for teammates that goes on. One of the teams stood RIGHT next to me and it was literally a couple of hours before hearing returned to my right ear.
That same team (who were great, by the way) at one point was giving out high 10s (clapping both hands overhead when a girl finished her floor routine. At one point, they clapped right over me as if I wasn't there.
Officially nothing.
Okay, so I'm probably the only one amused by that horrible pun, but I enjoyed it.
After doing nothing yesterday, I had another great day of . . . nothing in terms of physical activity. My cold is still kicking my butt and although I'm feeling better, I'm still not recovered.
I had signed up to volunteer as a meet official at another college gymnastics meet. I was assigned to floor timer and line judge. Basically, I sit on the edge of the floor, all by myself, for a couple of hours, and get a close up of college gymnastics. Way fun and I don't have to do anything for it except 1) hitch a ride there since I refuse to pay for that much gas to volunteer and 2) run a stopwatch and, if needed, hold up a yellow flag.
I only had to hold up the yellow flag once.
I am going to remember, for my next time, to take earplugs. One of the major differences in college gymnastics is the EXTREME amount of yelling (cheering) for teammates that goes on. One of the teams stood RIGHT next to me and it was literally a couple of hours before hearing returned to my right ear.
That same team (who were great, by the way) at one point was giving out high 10s (clapping both hands overhead when a girl finished her floor routine. At one point, they clapped right over me as if I wasn't there.
Officially nothing.
Okay, so I'm probably the only one amused by that horrible pun, but I enjoyed it.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Snow Day!
I actually got up early enough that I could try walking my daughter to school again.
School was cancelled due to snow, which was almost completely gone before her school would have been out. We walked over to the local elementary school instead, where I pushed her on the swing and let the dog chase a ball (which she lost a few times in the snow).
Half an hour after getting home out of the beautiful sunny but cold day, it froze up and dumped snow on us again.
We didn't even make it to gymnastics practice this evening as I wasn't concerned about getting there, but the weather was so erratic that I was concerned about getting home after dark with temperatures dropping. The one thing I really miss on my current car as compared to my last car is four-wheel drive. However, I don't miss the whole not starting, overheating, pouring dark black stinky smoke out of the defrost vents. But I do avoid driving in snow.
Then my husband went and played soccer (he does have four wheel drive, and the roads were oddly fine by then anyway) so I did exactly nothing.
School was cancelled due to snow, which was almost completely gone before her school would have been out. We walked over to the local elementary school instead, where I pushed her on the swing and let the dog chase a ball (which she lost a few times in the snow).
Half an hour after getting home out of the beautiful sunny but cold day, it froze up and dumped snow on us again.
We didn't even make it to gymnastics practice this evening as I wasn't concerned about getting there, but the weather was so erratic that I was concerned about getting home after dark with temperatures dropping. The one thing I really miss on my current car as compared to my last car is four-wheel drive. However, I don't miss the whole not starting, overheating, pouring dark black stinky smoke out of the defrost vents. But I do avoid driving in snow.
Then my husband went and played soccer (he does have four wheel drive, and the roads were oddly fine by then anyway) so I did exactly nothing.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Catching Up
I didn't sleep well last night; partially from my headache, partially from tight muscles, partially from my daughter crawled into bed with me at 3:00 am after waking me up to demand water. At which point it occurred to me that maybe last night would have been a good time to try the rehydration salts my friend gave me yesterday. I'm a genius. We settled back in and finally got back to sleep.
Late morning we headed off to family storytime at the library. We haven't been since last summer since it's conflicted either with school or swimming lessons. My daughter had a blast and then we came home, at which point she was very much in need of a nap, but was too excited to settle down because it was SNOWING, Mommy, LOOK! It's SNOWING! Mommy mommy mommy look look SNOW!
I finally got her settled down and apparently she hadn't had a good night's sleep either because she slept for four hours.
Late morning we headed off to family storytime at the library. We haven't been since last summer since it's conflicted either with school or swimming lessons. My daughter had a blast and then we came home, at which point she was very much in need of a nap, but was too excited to settle down because it was SNOWING, Mommy, LOOK! It's SNOWING! Mommy mommy mommy look look SNOW!
I finally got her settled down and apparently she hadn't had a good night's sleep either because she slept for four hours.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Another Day at the Hamster Wheel Farm
I'm glad I somewhat prepared for today last night because I didn't have time to spare. I got up, made snack for myself and my daughter for preschool, got her up, dressed, and packed, and then went to school where I was parent helper today.
One of the moms at the school, who has been following me on this blog recently, brought me a packet of rehydration salts, after reading about my technicolor displays. I've been lucky that those have come to a screeching halt since I stopped taking the Tramadol, but I took them anyway because they're worth a try for my next bout of anti-moderation.
After school, which we had to leave late since we have to 1) finish our chores and 2) wait for all the other kids to leave, we raced home, where I finished making some bows to sell. Then I packed the almost-finished bows, the supplies, a new display, my daughter's princess castle (and princesses), her bag (with leotard and a change of clothes), my bag (swim stuff, and a change of clothes for after my workout), loose shorts for my Dr. Amy visit, and more snacks to eat for later in the car.
Visited Dr. Amy. Picked up donation for the preschool auction. Went to 24-Hour Fitness and dropped off daughter at the gym daycare.
Got on the treadmill and decided I was going to try for a 2-mile run at a 15-minute mile pace. As I was plodding along, I began thinking about how a century ago, all of this elaborate electrical exercise equipment probably would have been viewed as bizarre. All these people crammed into one space, few if any of them socializing. Our own form of hamster wheels created because our society has evolved in a way that "work" doesn't necessarily mean "labor" any more and so we need other avenues to exercise.
I walked for about two minutes before starting my jog, and at about 20 minutes in (or about 1.2 miles of jogging), I was starting to not want to be doing it any more. However, I was determined to hit 2 miles, so even though I'd forgotten (with all the things I had to pack) my iPod, I looked up to the television to distract myself. I would tell myself to make it to the end of the commercial break. Then to the next commercial break. That became too much and wasn't working, so I started counting. I could only look at the time on the machine every time I hit 100.
I got up to 30 minutes (only 2 minutes remaining!) and then . . . the treadmill slowed down.
Way. Down.
It still said it was keeping a 4mph rate, but I was walking pretty slow. I started madly poking at buttons and got it to speed up again. Then it slowed down again. It did this 3 times until I got it to go again, and I finished my 2 miles (possibly more), but was really annoyed that I ended up getting unintentional "breaks" because the treadmill broke.
There is the possibility that I don't know how to program it properly and it shuts down automatically at 30 minutes, but considering it's the same type that I've used before for as much as 60 (slow walking) minutes at a time, I think it broke. I was mad that here I was, determined to push myself, and the stupid machine wouldn't let me.
Anyway, it was farther than I've run in I don't know how long. Even in junior high and high school when I had to run distances for PE or track, I'm not sure what the longest distance was that I had to run. Since I usually did sprint events (which I was horrible at) or throwing, I rarely trained distance.
Tangent: my two most memorable track and field moments. I'll start with the one from when I was 11. I entered the mile race at an all-city track meet. The only other competitor in the event was a boy my age. I knew, at the starting line, we would both get a blue ribbon because they always gave out placement ribbons, and they always did boys and girls separately. I decided, however, that I was going to actually win the race. I managed to get a good start and stay in front of the guy, although he wasn't far behind me. As we rounded the last corner, I didn't hear him coming up behind me, but I DID hear the announcer say something along the lines of, "He's making a push for the finish!" THEN I heard his footsteps, right behind me.
I took off as fast as I could go, which wasn't very, because I was fairly pooped. My mother later told me that the woman sitting next to her in the stands leaned over and said, "I hope that girl wins!" My mother proudly told the woman that I was her daughter. I heard the cheering (and his footsteps) and I think at one point he even stepped sideways to pass me and somehow I found enough energy for even more of a push--which was when he pooped out, and I crossed the finish line first.
So, a good memory. And a blue ribbon that was real.
My other track and field memory. I was a junior in college and had been coerced into throwing discus and shotput for my small university, despite absolutely no experience. I had pretty decent strength and zero technical capability. Since I'd never done it before, this put me at a disadvantage with other college throwers, who were there primarily because of their technique--and the strength they'd built up over the years didn't hurt. We went to an away meet since our school didn't even have a proper practice area (we went to the local high school for practice).
This happened to be the university of a boyfriend I'd had in high school, who for some reason I still felt the need to impress. Guess what? He threw discus too. But a WHOLE lot better than me (and nearly everyone else, too). I did leave an impression, although certainly not what I'd intended. I got up for my first throw. For anyone who is unfamiliar with discus technique, basically, you have approximately a 6-foot ring that you start at the back of and while traveling forward, spin 1.5 times, plant your feet, then accelerate a twist, finishing with a release of the discus. If you fall out of the ring, you're disqualified. You get three attempts.
I fell not once, not twice, but all three times, with the third spin going so wildly out of control that I somehow ended up going backwards PAST the starting point, tripping, sliding through mud behind the ring to fall on my butt and then slide hiney-first into the protective chain link fence.
Yes. Completely disqualified. Face to match my red jersey. Instead of a blue ribbon, I got a garbage bag to sit on in the car on the way home.
That was the end of track and field for me.
So as for the farthest distance I've ever run, my dad might know because for a short time I ran with him on his "track" in the pasture (basically a giant mowed circle that when we ran, we had to watch out for mole hills and sheep marbles). That was short lived too though as again, I've never much cared for running. The sheep marbles didn't help.
My point? There is a slight possibility this is the farthest I've ever run. I'm not certain, but if I get up to a 5K, then I know that would be the farthest I've ever run.
After my run, I decided to go for a swim. Since I've been edging my time down in decent chunks, I was hoping to make another dent in my 500 time--or, considering how far I ran, at least hit what I did on Saturday (11:28). I got in the pool and since I'm still not over this cold, was having such a hard time with breathing out through my nose, I just gave up.
I went and stretched in the hot tub instead.
Picked up my daughter from the daycare and then took her to gymnastics. I sold 7 bows before I could even get them on the display, changed out some of the others, and am hoping for at least a little income by the end of the month from them.
Then we came home and despite downing water, I had a migraine starting, so I went to bed.
One of the moms at the school, who has been following me on this blog recently, brought me a packet of rehydration salts, after reading about my technicolor displays. I've been lucky that those have come to a screeching halt since I stopped taking the Tramadol, but I took them anyway because they're worth a try for my next bout of anti-moderation.
After school, which we had to leave late since we have to 1) finish our chores and 2) wait for all the other kids to leave, we raced home, where I finished making some bows to sell. Then I packed the almost-finished bows, the supplies, a new display, my daughter's princess castle (and princesses), her bag (with leotard and a change of clothes), my bag (swim stuff, and a change of clothes for after my workout), loose shorts for my Dr. Amy visit, and more snacks to eat for later in the car.
Visited Dr. Amy. Picked up donation for the preschool auction. Went to 24-Hour Fitness and dropped off daughter at the gym daycare.
Got on the treadmill and decided I was going to try for a 2-mile run at a 15-minute mile pace. As I was plodding along, I began thinking about how a century ago, all of this elaborate electrical exercise equipment probably would have been viewed as bizarre. All these people crammed into one space, few if any of them socializing. Our own form of hamster wheels created because our society has evolved in a way that "work" doesn't necessarily mean "labor" any more and so we need other avenues to exercise.
I walked for about two minutes before starting my jog, and at about 20 minutes in (or about 1.2 miles of jogging), I was starting to not want to be doing it any more. However, I was determined to hit 2 miles, so even though I'd forgotten (with all the things I had to pack) my iPod, I looked up to the television to distract myself. I would tell myself to make it to the end of the commercial break. Then to the next commercial break. That became too much and wasn't working, so I started counting. I could only look at the time on the machine every time I hit 100.
I got up to 30 minutes (only 2 minutes remaining!) and then . . . the treadmill slowed down.
Way. Down.
It still said it was keeping a 4mph rate, but I was walking pretty slow. I started madly poking at buttons and got it to speed up again. Then it slowed down again. It did this 3 times until I got it to go again, and I finished my 2 miles (possibly more), but was really annoyed that I ended up getting unintentional "breaks" because the treadmill broke.
There is the possibility that I don't know how to program it properly and it shuts down automatically at 30 minutes, but considering it's the same type that I've used before for as much as 60 (slow walking) minutes at a time, I think it broke. I was mad that here I was, determined to push myself, and the stupid machine wouldn't let me.
Anyway, it was farther than I've run in I don't know how long. Even in junior high and high school when I had to run distances for PE or track, I'm not sure what the longest distance was that I had to run. Since I usually did sprint events (which I was horrible at) or throwing, I rarely trained distance.
Tangent: my two most memorable track and field moments. I'll start with the one from when I was 11. I entered the mile race at an all-city track meet. The only other competitor in the event was a boy my age. I knew, at the starting line, we would both get a blue ribbon because they always gave out placement ribbons, and they always did boys and girls separately. I decided, however, that I was going to actually win the race. I managed to get a good start and stay in front of the guy, although he wasn't far behind me. As we rounded the last corner, I didn't hear him coming up behind me, but I DID hear the announcer say something along the lines of, "He's making a push for the finish!" THEN I heard his footsteps, right behind me.
I took off as fast as I could go, which wasn't very, because I was fairly pooped. My mother later told me that the woman sitting next to her in the stands leaned over and said, "I hope that girl wins!" My mother proudly told the woman that I was her daughter. I heard the cheering (and his footsteps) and I think at one point he even stepped sideways to pass me and somehow I found enough energy for even more of a push--which was when he pooped out, and I crossed the finish line first.
So, a good memory. And a blue ribbon that was real.
My other track and field memory. I was a junior in college and had been coerced into throwing discus and shotput for my small university, despite absolutely no experience. I had pretty decent strength and zero technical capability. Since I'd never done it before, this put me at a disadvantage with other college throwers, who were there primarily because of their technique--and the strength they'd built up over the years didn't hurt. We went to an away meet since our school didn't even have a proper practice area (we went to the local high school for practice).
This happened to be the university of a boyfriend I'd had in high school, who for some reason I still felt the need to impress. Guess what? He threw discus too. But a WHOLE lot better than me (and nearly everyone else, too). I did leave an impression, although certainly not what I'd intended. I got up for my first throw. For anyone who is unfamiliar with discus technique, basically, you have approximately a 6-foot ring that you start at the back of and while traveling forward, spin 1.5 times, plant your feet, then accelerate a twist, finishing with a release of the discus. If you fall out of the ring, you're disqualified. You get three attempts.
I fell not once, not twice, but all three times, with the third spin going so wildly out of control that I somehow ended up going backwards PAST the starting point, tripping, sliding through mud behind the ring to fall on my butt and then slide hiney-first into the protective chain link fence.
Yes. Completely disqualified. Face to match my red jersey. Instead of a blue ribbon, I got a garbage bag to sit on in the car on the way home.
That was the end of track and field for me.
So as for the farthest distance I've ever run, my dad might know because for a short time I ran with him on his "track" in the pasture (basically a giant mowed circle that when we ran, we had to watch out for mole hills and sheep marbles). That was short lived too though as again, I've never much cared for running. The sheep marbles didn't help.
My point? There is a slight possibility this is the farthest I've ever run. I'm not certain, but if I get up to a 5K, then I know that would be the farthest I've ever run.
After my run, I decided to go for a swim. Since I've been edging my time down in decent chunks, I was hoping to make another dent in my 500 time--or, considering how far I ran, at least hit what I did on Saturday (11:28). I got in the pool and since I'm still not over this cold, was having such a hard time with breathing out through my nose, I just gave up.
I went and stretched in the hot tub instead.
Picked up my daughter from the daycare and then took her to gymnastics. I sold 7 bows before I could even get them on the display, changed out some of the others, and am hoping for at least a little income by the end of the month from them.
Then we came home and despite downing water, I had a migraine starting, so I went to bed.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Enough Already!
My husband left to go work at the food cart late last night after packing and arranging everything in the living room for our planned mountain trip for today.
At 3:00am I texted him and told him that our daughter was too sick to go. Our poor Little Bug was absolutely coughing miserable and couldn't sleep. She's a few months short of turning four, but I risked giving her a half of a 4-year-old dose of cough medicine (that's for 4 and up only). She finally fell asleep about an hour later.
When my husband got home (6:00am), got to sleep (immediately, I'm jealous), and woke up (at 10:00am), he was too sick to go too, so went back to bed.
We were all too sick to care about the gear still piled in the living room.
Except for the dog, who was both excited (as she recognizes the gear pile as an indication that she gets to ride in the car) and confused (as the pile was not being hauled out to the car).
At 3:00am I texted him and told him that our daughter was too sick to go. Our poor Little Bug was absolutely coughing miserable and couldn't sleep. She's a few months short of turning four, but I risked giving her a half of a 4-year-old dose of cough medicine (that's for 4 and up only). She finally fell asleep about an hour later.
When my husband got home (6:00am), got to sleep (immediately, I'm jealous), and woke up (at 10:00am), he was too sick to go too, so went back to bed.
We were all too sick to care about the gear still piled in the living room.
Except for the dog, who was both excited (as she recognizes the gear pile as an indication that she gets to ride in the car) and confused (as the pile was not being hauled out to the car).
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