Wednesday Observation: Running on a Treadmill is SO Different from Running Outside

Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patr...

Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patriots, Foxboro, Massachusetts, USA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here I was thinking that running for 22 minutes straight on a treadmill meant that I was physically fit to run my first 5K.  WRONG.  Tonight I decided to see how far I could go on the Smithfield High School Track.  Each lap is either ¼ of a mile or 1/3 of a mile, meaning I need to run between 9 and 12 times straight. 

Well I ran around once.  Then I walked around.  Then I tried to run around again. By the time I finished I ran around about two times and walked around about two times.  So between a mile and a mile and third.  I’m sure all my panting alarmed the elderly gentlemen trotting briskly around the outside lane, as I hugged the inside like my guts were going to fall out.

I am running my first race on July 3 in Foxboro, Massachusetts.  For you New England Patriot fans the race takes you right into Gillette Stadium.  And my darling husband and daughter, who hate to run unless it’s part of a basketball game, agreed to run with me.  Actually they signed me up and decided to join me just in case I began to procrastinate or back out, as only I can, concerning exercise.

So I’m in a bit of a pickle now, because I have about 6 weeks to train to do 5K without dropping dead. 

I am not a runner at heart.  I like to cycle, I like to sit in front of the TV even better.  I like to read with a bowl of tasty snacks next to me the best. 

But I need to run.  It’s  the fastest way I can think of to get my exercise done.  There I said it.  And a body in motion stays in motion.  Running is good for my cholesterol, my blood pressure, my weight, my energy level, and my mental attitude.

So it’s time to train, train and train some more.   I got this.

When I told the Crow that I was going to run a race she responded as I thought she would.  “Make sure you don’t fall.  You’ll hurt yourself.”  Ah, encouragement at every turn.  Of course she does worry.  Usually unnecessarily and as often as possible.  One time when Julia was sitting on an ottoman laughing and leaning backward my mother warned, “Watch out, you’ll bite your tongue off.”  She was serious.  Severed tongue through a fit of laughter.  Julia uses that line on me whenever she thinks I’m being over-protective.  It works pretty well, I must say.

Just now I told my daughter that I too was very athletic as a child.  She sat and stared at me, a blank look on her chiseled blond beauty of a face.  She had just spent the evening at basketball practice for the AAU team she plays on.  She’s already made it clear to her father and me that her goal is college hoops and then the WNBA.  She just might pull it off too, who knows?  But I want her to know that not all of her athletic prowess comes from her Dad.

“Really Jules.  I never got any formal coaching, and I only played on one team for one summer.  But I was a really good softball player.  I used to bike for miles on a daily basis, and I wasn’t bad at tennis either.  You don’t believe me do you?”

“Nope.”

I’ll show her.  I hope.

A Saturday in the Life

 

Symbol of Confusion

Symbol of Confusion (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Visiting with the Crow and Big Al yesterday, I once again found myself swirling in a pool of confusion.  A humorous pool of confusion, which kind of makes it bearable.

Let’s start with Big Al’s prescription filling service.  I find it easiest if I drop my father’s empty prescription bottles off at the pharmacy and then go pick them up next time I’m by there, usually the next day, or if urgent, I’ll go back in an hour and get them.

My father would rather call them in himself, which is fine, but he assumes that when he calls them in I am alerted somehow to the time they will be ready, which he does not indicate to the Pharmacist, by the way, and that I will automatically pick them up when he needs them, which he also does not indicate until I’m getting ready to leave for home. 

Continue reading

I Coulda Beena Contenda- but She Actually is One

 

Trinity University (Texas) women's basketball ...

Trinity University (Texas) women’s basketball team, 1915 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My daughter stayed home sick yesterday with a cough and scratchy throat. She is pretty tough as sixth grade girls go, so when she does complain that she’s not well I take it seriously. My husband, upon getting home from work, suggested that Julia get ready for basketball practice that evening. I began to protest, saying that she felt better but questioning his judgment.

They are going over plays for the tournament this weekend. Even if she doesn’t play, she should be there to listen, he said. When I crinkled my nose, his response, though not shocking, got me to really thinking.

“She’s an athlete,” he said. “She’s a competitor, and she wants to be there.”

My daughter is an athlete. It’s official. She is an amazing basketball player, really. Those who have seen my brags, or as my friend Leslie termed them, my ‘shares’ on Face Book already know how good I think she is. Her strength, endurance, and talent amaze me. A gifted athlete. She’s also a gifted singer, actress, leader and writer. Many things that, at one point or another in my life, I thought I’d choose to be. Recently she took one of those occupational IQ tests at school, and got matched with one of two careers – teacher or clinical psychologist. Just like me when I was in Junior High during the Stone Age.

The biggest difference between my daughter and me, aside from our height and hair color, is that instead of just daydreaming, she is doing it. She has so many doors opening to her, even at the young age of 12, that it’s mind-blowing. The times we live in provide young women with so many opportunities. More than they did 35 years ago when I was her age? Yes, surely. And way more than my mother had back in the 40’s.

Continue reading

Do You Believe In Miracles?

Do You Believe In Miracles?.

I do.  Always have.  I didn’t think they could happen for me, but I did always believe they could happen for others.

It’s taken me a long time and a lot of reflection to understand that anything is possible for anyone who believes.  That’s what faith is all about.  Understanding that we all are worthy of happiness and goodness and love as long as those are the things we reflect in our own lives.

There are those times when it’s impossible to understand why things go wrong.  To see the good in anything.  It’s not always an easy search, and I have often failed in the past to understand why something bad has happened to me or to someone I love.

My daughter and I talked about this one night when she was afraid to take a chance – when she felt she would fail.  When I told her I had done this before- passed up opportunities that would have put me in a better place career and finance-wise, she replied, “But then you wouldn’t have met Daddy and you wouldn’t have had me.”  She was right- for she is truly my very own miracle. Continue reading