Tales from La La Land

I got my bill for $107 from Hostmonster (the monster that hosts my blog) in December. For a few days I considered shutting it all down, closing up the blog and starting a new hobby. Said hobby being taking a nap.

That’s what being in the first trimester of pregnancy while raising a toddler and working full time will do to you. It will take you into this foggy place where you sleepwalk through the days counting the minutes until the second trimester.

Anyway, I paid the bill knowing that I could never abandon the blog, and that eventually I’d get back to it. After all, there are stories to share, and what is my life without making fun of my husband? And now that Harper is totally a toddler and not a baby, I can start making fun of her too. I mean, she got her first hair cut, and that warrants a blog post in and of itself (mommy is sorry. she has a problem with home hair cuts).

We called her Lloyd for a few weeks, but luckily it grew out OK before she started her new daycare. There is enough anxiety dropping your child off at daycare without being the parent of the kid with fucked up bangs and blue nails. By the way, I don’t choose her nail color. Anyone who has kids knows that they know exactly how to tell you what they want. And for some reason every time she digs through the basket of colors, she always picks out the same blue color. I’ve been trying to tell her that blue nail polish is so 2012, but she don’t care.

She’s learning and saying lots of words, which is exciting and petrifying all at once. My days of fuck are numbered, and I realized this the other day when Laef told me something exciting and I said, “NICE!” and Harper immediately followed with “Nith!”

I was super excited, and then super sad. She can not be the kid with jacked bangs, blue nail polish AND the one that says “fuck yeah!” when she gets her string cheese and goldfish for snack.

So, I’m working on my language. She can’t read yet, so the blog doesn’t count. Fuck yeah!

Now that I’m in week 14 (Sidenote: I am not nearly as diligent with counting the weeks of this pregnancy. I have the correct doctor appointments scheduled at the correct milestone weeks, so I’ll know as I go. I know a few things: I’m due July 5th. If my baby is born on the same day as that Kardashian OR has the same name, I’ll cry. If my baby is born on the same day as Princess Kate, OR has the same name, I can live with that.) I’m feeling much, much better. My marriage somehow survived even though my bitch level was like even higher than usual (“Just another Tuesday” – Laef) and I cried all the time. I knew shit was haywire when I was sobbing while watching an old episode of My So Called Life.

That was the point that I put on my running clothes and made myself get outside and get moving. Running and writing on the blog have always been my outlets.

Here’s to bringing them both back in 2013. And bringing in another family member. And to this little nugget being the cutest, most well-behaved girl at school.

Well, I put another half marathon in the books this past weekend. When I started training, I set a goal to finish in under two hours. Basically, I would have been happy finishing at 1:59:59. I just wanted to see a 1 at the front.

I finished in 2:00:05.

That six seconds hurt. A lot.

But, I have proved to myself that I can push myself harder, and survive. When I ran the Eugene Marathon and every other half marathon, the goal was simply to finish. And, believe me, I am very proud to have finished. The time for the marathon doesn’t matter much to me. However, after each of the previous races, I was sipping beers right after crossing the finish line. Yesterday, I couldn’t have had a sip of beer if you paid me. I wanted to barf. I had finally pushed myself to accomplish more, and when it was over, I can honestly say I left it all out there. I was unable to get off the couch the rest of the day.

So, I will do another half at some point, and I will make sure to shave a few seconds off that goal.

Many people hate running. Many people say to me that they don’t know how, or more importantly, why I would want to run 13 miles on a Sunday morning. I don’t always love it, that’s for sure. But, what I love is crossing the finish line. What I love is meeting up with friends at 6 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and watching the sun rise over LA. I love having run 7 miles before Laef is even awake.

I didn’t start running to lose weight. I started running when I lived in Eugene because I needed a hobby besides Jägermeister.  I wasn’t really happy with my life, and I had no hobbies. I would work and party. That was it.

I will never forget the first time someone took me running. It was literally a small loop around Autzen Stadium. I bitched the entire time. I tried to quit at least a dozen times. I hated it. Running sucks in the beginning. I had never run before.

And slowly that loop around Autzen progressed to a 3 mile loop. And then we incorporated hills and 6 mile runs. And, soon, running was a part of my life. I could leave work and go for a run along the river and just enjoy the freedom. It made me feel so much happier.

At some point, I decided to run a half marathon to see what it would be like. There’s no better feeling than crossing that finish line. I never even entertained the idea of a full marathon because I always told myself, “No way. I can’t do 26 miles”. And then one day I realized that I actually can run a marathon, I just need to do it.

If you want to do something, all you have to do is do it.

And, if you don’t believe that, watch this video.

Running can change your life.

Running a marathon  is a lot like getting married. I never thought of it that way until I was taking a shower post-race, enjoying the fact that for the first time in a LONG time, I didn’t have to think about the marathon. I wasn’t wondering how I’d squeeze in a lunch time run or what I’d miss out on by having to do a 20-mile training run on Saturday.

It was done.

I did it.

Four months of training for 5 hours.

I don’t remember exactly why I decided to run a marathon. I felt accomplished  by running a few half marathons. I guess it was something to do. Running has become something that I can be proud of. It’s something that – whether I commit to a 3-miler on a Saturday or a 12-miler – has a positive end result. If I set a goal, I can usually accomplish it.

The marathon became my hobby. My life revolved around it. It kept me occupied while Laef was gone for days on end with UCLA basketball. I felt like I was following through, being healthy, and was proud to be in the best shape of my entire life.

I’ve been dreading putting up the “Marathon Blog”. Because, truthfully, it isn’t what I thought it would be. I wrote this blog a thousand times over in my head. On every long run I wrote this blog. I envisioned what it would feel like when I crossed the finish line in Hayward Field. I marveled at my ability to stick with the training for four long months.

Over the past four months, I have never been more proud of myself.

And then it was over.

I ran for 5 hours. I never had to walk for sustained periods of time. I never felt like I couldn’t push on. I had trained for this, and on race day, I was ready. I didn’t run in a spectacular time, but I ran consistently until the end. I pushed through it all to finish what I had started. I ran by many of my old Eugene stomping grounds, reminiscing about different phases of my life (dude, seriously, you will think about anything to kill 5 minutes when you are running for that long).

There were friends along the way to give smiles, high fives and awesome signs. I will always be grateful for the support and acknowledgment. Considering that a tiny percent of the population have actually run 26.2 miles, I don’t expect people to relate to what I’m saying or sympathize. But, if you google “Post Marathon Depression” you will have a better understanding of what I’m feeling.

Despite the fact that I’m feeling a bit blah this week and have lost a sense of purpose, I am in awe of what happened. I am so proud to have been able to prove to myself that I can accomplish anything. I would like to do another one so that my pre-race fears and anxieties will be gone and I can have more fun with it. I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t sure if I’d break a knee or collapse in pain, so I was a bit afraid in the days leading up to the race.

But, I did the training and so the actual run on race day wasn’t so bad (except for the 4 miles where I was in downtown Springfield at 8 a.m.). I honestly felt fine through 16 miles. After that it was all about “game management”. I broke the remaining 10 miles down into increments that were manageable. Taking stretch/mental breaks at miles 19, 22, and 24. If you train properly, it’s no joke that the marathon is a mental game by the last 6 miles. Because, let’s be honest, when you think you are on the home stretch – only 6 miles to go – you will quickly realize that what that means is one hour left of running. ONE HOUR after running for 4 hours. You will stab yourself if you think of it in bulk.

So not only am I physically exhausted after the race, I’m mentally burned out. I spent all of my time preparing for this race because I wanted to succeed. I was determined to cross the finish line.

Now that I’ve crossed it, I wonder: Now what?

My last post was two weeks ago and something about being pregnant and going to Target on a Friday night?

Well, let me tell you, things have only gotten more exciting since then.

Not.

Laef has been gone a lot over the past two weeks, which is normally great news for me (shopping, watching crap TV, eating). The first weekend he was gone – Valentine’s Weekend – I celebrated by myself at the 3rd Street Promenade. The weather was nothing short of spectacular, I found amazing sales and indulged in a dark chocolate crepe and champagne.

It was a good substitute for spending the afternoon without Laef, but as the weeks press on during basketball season, I’m definitely missing my partner in crime. Sure, I don’t laugh at his ridiculous jokes and he takes up way too much space in the bed, but isn’t that the whole point of marriage? Having someone to talk to besides your cat?

The Sanch and I are getting tired of each other. I know he appreciates my lack of discipline and the fact that his nails have not been clipped since basketball season started (I make Laef do all of the jobs that would lead to the cat liking me better), but he also appreciates it when the litter box is cleaned more regularly.

We’ve run out of things to talk about.

Laef was gone again this past weekend, but I was pretty much shopped out and had honestly run through my entire list of “things that keep me occupied and happy while Laef is gone”. I have painted my nails no fewer than a dozen times over the past two months, colored my hair, gotten a facial, gone out for sushi, made three trips to Pinkberry, watched The Notebook, watched marathons of 16 & Pregnant and Keeping up with the Kardashians, reorganzied the closet and watched the entire Season 4 of Friday Night Lights online.

So, now all that’s left is preparing for this marathon.

That leaves me with running as my “fun thing to do when Laef is gone”. Except that it really isn’t all that fun sometimes.

My hips are wondering when exactly I turned 74. My toenails are no longer on board with marathon training. And my iPod can not believe that I downloaed LA Candy by Lauren Conrad (I won’t even try to justify it or give you an explanation other than to say that I don’t want to be bogged down with Homer when I’m running 13 fucking miles. I have enough to worry about).

My body seems to be holding up fairly well, but I am also working really hard to make sure I do all of the right things. Which means when I got a text on Saturday from a girl I recently met through a UCLA carpool system asking me if I’d like to go out on Saturday night, I had to decline. OK, if I’m being honest, it had more to do with the fact that her text said, “I can pick you up around 10 and we can go have a few drinks before heading out around midnight.”

The fuck?

As lonely as I am, and as much as I need human convo when Laef is gone, I would need 6 Adderall’s to go out according to her schedule. I suppose I would have taken a nap and gone, but I honestly can not go out and drink and expect to run 13 miles the next day.

So, I’m kind of boring right now.

I have only 10 weeks to go until the race and I just keep picturing myself crossing the finish line. All the lame Saturday nights and Sunday’s where my hips creak will be SO worth it when I am done.

This weekend marks the one-year anniversary of my first-ever half marathon.

You can read all about my experience at The Surf City Half Marathon here. That was a fun day. Except for the part about parking miles away from the race and having to walk that far after running 13 miles. I never would have thought that beer could taste SO good that early in the morning. Or that it would feel so good after running.

Since that first race, I’ve run two other half marathons and a 10K.

This weekend, I will run the Surf City for the second time, again with my sister Brooke.

But, it’s different this year. Originally, my goal was to finish the race in 2 hours or less. Now that I’m training for the Eugene Marathon in May, this weekend is simply a training run. While I know that it will be difficult to slow myself down and not get caught up in the adrenaline of a race, I wish that every long training run had me surrounded by thousands of other runners, beer at the finish line, spectators with signs and a cool surfboard medal.

Usually a half marathon would be my peak. It would be the reward for months of training, and I would take at least a week off afterward. Now I can’t think like that. I have to run 13 miles on Sunday and resume running on Tuesday. We’ll see how that goes.

At this point, I don’t know what my goals or expectations for the marathon will be. Right now I want to get through the next three weeks of back-to-back-to-back long runs and see if my body holds up. Assuming it does, my goal will likely be to finish the race without having to walk at all.

Having said that, I was talking to Laef the other night and mentioned that deep down my hope is that I can finish the full marathon in 5 hours. (Which is insane because I could drive all the way to my parents house in Sacramento in that amount of time, so I have no idea WHY on Earth I think it will be fun to run for that long).

Without hesitation Laef said: “As long as you finish faster than Oprah.”

Of course, neither of us had any idea how long it took Oprah to run her marathon.

After some quick googling I found out.

4:29:20.

SHIT.

The fastest I have ever run a half marathon is 2:06. Double that and I would run the marathon in 4 hours, 12 minutes.

But, I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be maintaining that pace over miles 20-26 in my first-ever marathon. So, it’s more realistic to think I’d finish in closer to 5 hours.

However, Oprah ran this shit in 4 and a half hours!

I really want to beat Oprah.

If I don’t though, there are other famous people that I think I could beat and still feel happy:

Mario López, (5:41:41). OK, so either he was cocky and didn’t train at all and is in good enough shape to just go for it, OR he stopped along the way to do situps.

Freddie Prinze, Jr., (5:50:49). See above.

David Lee Roth, (6:04:43). He probably stopped at a bar along the way and had a smoke.

John Edwards (3:30:18). Let’s be honest. He has a lot to run from. That’s the only explanation for that time. And, it’s probably a lie.

Al Gore, (4:58:25). This is more like it.

This list is outdated because I know that Edward Norton ran a marathon last year, but here’s the list I looked at for Oprah’s time.

TGIF!

I’m putting this on the internet and in writing so that it is real. So that there’s no turning back, and so that I can lean on random people for support.

After weeks of debating in my head, I have decided to run a full marathon. I have 15 weeks to train, and will do my first (and almost certainly last) marathon in Eugene, OR on May 2.

When I ran my first half marathon, I watched in awe as people continued on for 13 more miles after I had crossed the finish line of the half marathon. I have very close friends who have run full marathons, so I know it can be done. I know you don’t have to be an elite athlete, and that anyone can start from walking and progress to 26.2 miles.

But, I am nervous. I’m worried about the time commitment, the possibility of injury and about the complete change in my life over the next 4 months. Because the truth is, I can’t really make weekend plans because running 20 miles on a Sunday doesn’t really coincide with a night of drinking on a Saturday. Nor does it coincide with doing ANYTHING on a Sunday aside from that run.

And so I thought a lot about this decision. It comes at a time where I have been seriously assessing certain things in my life and wanting to change those things. Focusing on this will force me to make some of those changes – drinking less, eating better, thinking about positive goals as opposed to dwelling on petty things that don’t matter.

There really isn’t a more perfect time to attempt this. There’s no wedding to plan, no babies planned in the very near future and no big plans over the next 5 months.

So, here goes.

WTF am I doing again?

Oh, yeah. Eugene 2010.

My favorite place for so many reasons.

The Proclaimers wrote a sweet song about walking 500 miles and then 500 more “just to be the man who falls down at your door”.

Even The Proclaimers knew that 1,000 miles was their max.

I’ve already told you how I don’t have any grand resolutions for 2010, but I am trying to continue to challenge myself in different areas of my life. In 2009, I decided I was going to run a half marathon. I ended up running three over the course of the year, as well as one 10K.

A lot of people scoff when I talk about running. Most people hate running and get bored with. To be honest, sometimes I hate running too.

As I prepare for the upcoming Surf City Half Marathon, I’m finding myself extremely bored with it. I am lucky this time around in that I don’t need to train as diligently because I’ve been running consistently for almost two years.

But, I need running.

For me, exercising does two things for me. It keeps me fit, and it keeps me mentally healthy. I know immediately if I have missed more than 3 days of running. I just don’t feel right.

Sometimes, I am sadder. Sometimes, I am bitchier. Sometimes, I am more lethargic. I don’t sleep as well and I am not myself. Laef can also tell and will very politely say, “Sooooo….maybe you should go on a run.”

That’s code for: You’re being a huge bitch and I don’t know why you are sobbing over the fact that Tim Riggins is sleeping with his 30-year old neighbor and not you. GET OVER IT.

Lately I’ve been thinking that I need a new goal. I have been dangerously close to committing to a full marathon. Or buying a bike a trying a triathalon. Or joining a team that competes in something like the Hood to Coast.

And then the other day, I stumbled upon Operation Jack.

This is all I can say about that: The Fuck?

I had to read this web site about 500 times. And then 500 times more just to be the person who fell off of my chair.

Briefly: Sam Felsenfeld is running 60 (YES SIXTY. 6-0) marathons in 2010 to raise awareness for Autism. Essentially, Sam is running ONE MARATHON A WEEK to honor is son Jack.

Maybe I am the only one freaking out because after I run one half marathon, I need like at least a week off. Then, I slowly ease back into running 3 miles.

This fool is in wicked shape. He’s running around a 3:30 pace.

It’s insane. I am in awe of this, and it has completely helped me become re-inspired by running.

And, for all of the people who shy away from running or exercise, Sam wasn’t a world class athlete. He was an unhealthy, overweight college student. He started walking. Then he started jogging. Then he started running. And now he runs marathons.

Since I’m on this big, “I can do anything I want” kick, I thought this story was worth sharing.