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You Know What Really Sucks?

5/17/2012

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Getting pulled over when your child is in the car with you.

No, it's not because they have a front-row seat to witness Momma getting her ass handed to her by some dude on a motorcycle. And it's not because this event has the potential to plant seeds of delinquency in the very fertile soil of your child's mind.

No, the real reason it is so awful is that the child - or mine, at least - will think Momma getting pulled over is THE GREATEST, FUNNIEST THING EVER,  causing them to squeal, clap, giggle, and shout their excitement through the whole embarrassing ordeal, all the you slink lower and lower in your seat, wishing to disappear completely. And you will want to throttle your child out of total frustration.

This fun little event happened for us on Tuesday night. With the days getting longer, Scotty and I didn't leave the park until well after 7pm. Yes, I did make a right turn on red (totally legal) and yes, I did speed up to keep up with current traffic. What I did not expect to see was a policeman on a motorcycle peel out of a parking lot across the street,  cross six lanes of traffic, and plant himself directly behind me, lights flashing. I mean, yes, Hualapai is well-known in Vegas as one of the most dangerous streets in town (not, not, not) and with it's many crosswalks (read: zero), yes, pedestrians are getting picked off daily (um, no). Our tax dollars are really going to good use to ensure cars do not go over the ridiculously low speed limit of 35 (what?!?) to avoid more (non-existent) fatalities. And for the record, the only things I've ever seen run over on Hualapai south of Flamingo was a crumpled paper bag and one sad gym shoe.  Oh, the horror.

So as you can imagine, I was mildly annoyed that my car got singled out, literally two minutes from our house. Since leaving the park, Scotty had been playing this new game in the back seat where he screams as loudly as possible until I crack and start screaming back.  When the cop pulled me over, I was thisclose to winning. But with the Bear's attention now diverted  by the nice man at my window, demanding my license and registration, he began chattering incessantly about the events unfolding around him. Gleefully.

"Da motorcycle! Da...da...da police motorcycle! Da lights are on! Momma, look! Look, Momma, look! Da lights on da motorcyle are on! Oh, Scotty love da lights! Scotty LOVE da lights!  Say it Mom! Mom, say it! Say 'police motorcycle!' Say 'lights!' Say it! Momma, SAY IT! SAAAAAAY IT!"

Considering my emotional fragility at this time, from the prior screaming game to having to dig through my purchases at the farmer's market to get my wallet out, which included pawing through the fresh kale I had purchased, I was really about to lose it. I mean, don't I get a break for the kale? How can you ticket someone who has fresh kale in their car? Everyone knows that no one actually likes kale. We only buy it and eat it because it's good for us. It's the most sadomasochistic vegetable known to man, and this cop wasn't going to cut me a break, despite the fact I eat kale not because I want to, but because I should. He was completely unsympathetic towards every aspect of my life - the annoying toddler, the obnoxious leafy greens, the fact that Hualapai essentially poses to no risk to anyone, ever. It was infuriating to say the least.

But I couldn't take my frustrations out on the man in blue (technically, light brown), so I took it out on the tiny person in the car who would not shut up.

"STOP TALKING!!! JUST...STOP....TALKING!" And I banged my hands on the steering wheel for good measure.

It was like Demon Mother erupted out of me. Even I was taken aback at the tone of my voice and the crazy flailing motion of my hands. Motorcycle cop paused for a second and looked up at me as he wrote the ticket, probably thinking this is part where I flee from the car and start ripping out my hair.

Scotty paused for a long second. His bottom lip quivering. His eyes welled up, and then he, too, erupted into all-out wails. Oh, my sensitive little Bear. I had pushed him too far.

And that, folks, is how we returned home - Kim a crying, angry mess, and Scotty, howling like a bee had stung him. Brian arrived home just a few minutes before us and wasn't sure who to look at - or tend to - first. I just shoved the paper ticket in his hands, sniffed, and walked upstairs silently.

Stupid cop. Stupid ticket. Stupid kale.

::sigh::
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The Container Store Has Arrived in Las Vegas...

5/11/2012

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...and it is good.
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::cue the music::
Opening at 9am on Saturday, May 12 at Town Square Mall, Las Vegas will never be the same. I am so, so, so excited.

We are all going to get ORGANIZED!

Before I start talking about the thousands of amazing products (80% of their products are less than $20!), I first have to introduce the strange way I found myself in this story. See, the thing you need to know about the Container Store is that they are good people. Good Texas people. Started the same year I was born (word to all my '78ers), they believe in giving back to local communities. Whenever they open a new store, they select a local non-profit to partner with for their grand opening.

Unbelievably, they selected Junior League of Las Vegas.

We were thrilled. And honored. And of course - happy to do whatever we could to get the word out about the fantastic new store coming to our town.

Because of my position in Junior League as Communications Chair, I found myself on the front lines. When I found out they were hosting a luncheon for local bloggers, my head snapped up and I asked, "Can I come?"

So yesterday, two days before the big grand opening, I joined about 30 other local bloggers for an early preview of the store. They provided lunch, a brief history of the company, and a tour of the new store. I won't even get into how cool it was to finally meet other bloggers here in Vegas (yay Vegas Bloggers!) - I'll just get to the good stuff. Like the photos.

And before I forget, let me just say: the best part of attending a blogger party is phone use (photos, emails, texting, Facebooking) is not only permitted, it is encouraged. I did not have to covertly check my phone at all - it was a little slice of heaven.

Not surprisingly, the Container Store has a lot of containers.

Lots and lots and lots of containers.
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Rows and rows of beautiful, brightly colored containers.
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And gorgeous "what-lovely-treasures-should-I-put-in-here" pretty boxes?
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Even if you are a color-phobe, they have you covered.
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Or perhaps you are a weirdo like me and buy only brown things?
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And it doesn't just stop with actual physical storage. Their best-selling modular shelving and drawer system, called "elfa," can be customized to meet any storage solution - your master closet, the garage, the pantry in the kitchen. The best part? It costs a fraction of the price of those other custom closet organizer companies.

Don't even get me started on the other innovative products on the shelves. A modern acrylic bowl (gorgeous in it's own right) with secret storage for ice, so your summer cole slaw doesn't turn into a sloppy mess of food poisoning in it's ninth hour at the 4th of July BBQ? Genius. The seemingly innocent tube of plastic that actually CONTROLS CORDS so the back of your TV isn't a wormy trail of confusion? Love at first sight. And that magazine rack that promises to organize all of my US Weeklys (finally!) without taking up more space on my ottoman? I think that might be my first purchase. It's like organization with intelligence.

The gift wrap aisle almost brought tears to my eyes.
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::sniff, sniff::
I knew the Container Store was a class-act having worked with them for the past four months. Their customer service is top-notch and they really, truly believe in their product. What I saw yesterday, however, was the passion that they have for what they are doing. They want to help you get organized and are willing to work with you and your specific needs to make that happen. I can't wait to transform our house into a model of organizational beauty and function.

Oh yeah, and they threw Junior League a party last night. Twenty-five hundred people descended upon the store for chilled champagne, awesome apps, and some serious booty-shaking live music. And of course, some good photo ops. 
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A rare picture of Brian and I, with no Bear lurking nearby
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Some of my favorite JLLV ladies!
I want to personally thank the Container Store for providing me with an amazing learning experience over the last few months, and thank them for selecting an organization close to my heart to partner with. Junior League of Las Vegas works tirelessly to improve the health and wellness in the Las Vegas community, and I am beyond excited to see what the future holds.

Grand Opening is less than 24 hours away, and ten percent of the proceeds will go back to Junior League of Las Vegas. PLEASE go out and shop! Please go out and support this fantastic store!
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Life is Short: Drink Good Champagne

5/7/2012

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Sometimes, you just gotta throw a party.

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And in this case, I broke out the good crystal.

Maybe it was because our wedding anniversary was on the 6th or that the beginning of May always reminds me of flowers. Or maybe it was just because I wanted to do a mobile spray tan (you know, the kind where they come to your house?) and the price goes down if more people are present. Regardless of my motivations, it was fun to plan and fun to put on and sometimes the best reason to celebrate doesn't require a reason at all.

Yes, we had a mobile spray-tanner come out. She set up shop in the downstairs bedroom and Scotty had a ball running in and out of her giant pink tent - before the festivities started. (this is not Toddlers and Tiaras, people. I did not spray tan my child). Mystic Mona, the fortune teller, was stationed in the living room and worked for two hours, reading tarot cards and telling us things about ourselves we didn't know. The food - a gastro-dynamic medley of awesomeness - included Jamaican jerk chicken with spicy dipping sauce, mac 'n' cheese with truffle oil, pesto aioli goat cheese with flat bread, signature salad, and a sampling of dessert (red velvet cake, cherry cheesecake, and carrot cake) paired nicely with the Vevue that was chilling in the ice bucket. The flowers, my favorite, favorite part, brightened the whole scene, with white and green hydrangeas, rich blue lisianthus, orange tulips and some red flowers I didn't know the name of in clear glass vases (anemone? Is that a flower? Or a sea creature? Not sure). I don't know why it is, but I firmly believe it's not a party unless there are fresh flowers present. 

Excessive? Maybe. But it was fun. And at one point in the evening, as everyone sat outside, chatting, sipping their drinks and snacking on jelly beans -
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Taste-tester Bear made sure the candy was edible
- I looked at all of my friends and thought to myself, "I am really happy right now."

                                                   **************

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once and awhile, you could miss it. Just be sure to take it in while holding a glass of the good stuff.
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Even Bounce Cow got in the spirit of things
Big Thanks to my fabulous Vegas vendors:

- Bryce at DW Bistro (dwbistro.com)

- Randi (looooove her!) at Naakiti Floral ((naakitifloral.com)

- Mystic Mona (monavanjoseph.com)

- Rachel Mohr with Body and Soul Sunless Tan (bodyandsoulsunlesstan.com)

and Costco for just about everything else. :-)

This was, quite honestly, the easiest party I've ever thrown. Cheers!
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How To Plan A Fabulous Vegas Stay-Cation

4/24/2012

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First, select an awesome hotel with a gorgeous lobby.
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That is one giant flower...
Make sure your room has a kickin' view at night.
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Our town
After telling everyone you want to lay out by the "quiet pool" to read a book, completely cave and purchase lounge chairs at the Euro-trash day club and drink your weight in Ambhar tequila. Groove to the sounds of the resident DJ and take in the scene of those around you who are at least 15 years your junior. If you start to feel old, just keep drinking tequila.

Note: it's best to leave your phone, iPad, and/or any type of communication you might have with the outside world in your room. You do not want to be tempted to tweet/text/update your status in this kind of environment.
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Basil, lime, cucumber and tequila...my new favorite drink. Mmmm...
Do a little shopping. Accept the free champagne that the lovely clerks offer you. It makes shopping that much more fun.
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This bad boy came home with me.
Eat a completely unhealthy dinner. I mean, really. Go all out. Find whatever is on the menu and order the one thing you know your boot camp trainer would just die if they knew you had consumed. In our case, it was bread, cheese, and beer. Take photographic evidence of your tiny rebellion.
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One version of carb-loading?
Do a little gambling, of course. Try to find the cheesiest slot machine you can find. As you can see below, we succeeded.
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Yup, that's my husband.
Accept all freebies the hotel offers you. After paying $18 a drink at the Euro-trash pool, free wine sounds like a pretty good deal.
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Num-num tasty.
And finally, acknowledge the fact that all good things have to come to an end, and drive the ten minutes - though a world away - back to your own residence in this crazy town. Profusely thank your childcare provider for allowing you 48 hours to feel like a normal adult again and placate the natives with giant pink lollipops. All is good in the world again.
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The Bear didn't even miss us. And how does my foot keep creeping into these pictures?
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Reunited and It Feels So Good

4/18/2012

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Indiana Grandma rolled into town last night.
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Which means if you are the Bear, life is pretty sweet right now.

And if you are Brian and I, it means you get a TWO-NIGHT stay-cation in a world-class hotel on the fabulous Las Vegas Strip. We plan to eat, drink, lay by the pool, and best of all...SLEEP IN! Ahhhh....I can't wait.

Let's hope these crazy kids stay out of trouble while we are gone.
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Only in Vegas

3/19/2012

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I've been a child of the 702 for over ten years, so very little about this city surprises me. We're used to slot machines at the grocery store, mayors who love martinis, and that silly "Crazy Girls" billboard that has been running for like, 20 years. Las Vegas is a great, fun, chill city. It's a little crazy, a little suburban, a little outdoorsy - it's really anything you want it to be.

But on Saturday, both Brian and I witnessed an all-time first.

Our St. Patrick's Day definitely varied all over the map and ended with a bang.

It started with a half-marathon relay out at Hoover Dam. My friend Jill from boot camp asked me to run with her, and I jumped at the chance. So we woke up at 5:30am, donned some green shirts, and ran through the same tunnels used by railway workers to build the Dam. She took the six mile leg, I finished with seven-point-one miles. It was historic, it was breathtaking, and it was a fantastic way to start the day. 
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After racing home, I took a quick shower and Brian and I were off to a pre-season Cubs game at Cashman Field. The giant pretzel and beer I consumed never tasted better, especially since I was still picking dirt out of my eyelashes. (let's not even talk about my running shoes or favorite socks - it was a very messy, windy run). We watched a really exciting game with friends Crystal and Kyle (celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary), and then headed to East Fremont for some St. Paddy's action. Crystal and Kyle had dinner plans for their anniversary, so Brian and I went solo to Insert Coins.

The name is exactly how it sounds - not slot machines, but vintage video games. You can rent a booth or kick it old-school, like we did, and stand at the machines. Since I hate video games and are terrible at them, I tried to do my best Elizabeth Shue-circa-1985 impression and cheer on my man while he played Galaga. I'm sure I just looked like a bored wife with a Cubs backpack leaning against the wall. Either way, Brian set the second high score and we both giggled as he typed in fake initials ("BAD").

From there, we raced through the rain to Lo Thai, this amazing Thai restaurant that gets great reviews. It was totally worth it, too - nothing says "Happy St. Patrick's Day" like a fantastic bowl of pad thai. I thought Brian was going to slam his head against the table when after the waiter asked for my level of heat, on a scale of one to five, and I replied, "One point five, please." What? I'm nothing if not specific.

With lots of yummy food in our bellies, we headed over for the real St. Patrick's Day party - to meet up with some friends at Henessey's. The place was packed, but they had a giant room set up in the back dedicated to beer pong.  I could barely contain my glee. I love beer pong. I only wish I played more in college, but it was always hard to get on a table. I don't care about the drinking part of it - I just really enjoy throwing ping-pong balls into Silo cups. Maybe I'll get Scotty started now - that would be a good afternoon activity. It's a fun game and might improve his fine motor skills or something. And just imagine his skill level in college...

Anyways, this is where the story takes a weird turn.
 
As we settled in the back, I noticed a girl standing towards the front of the room. Now remember, it's St. Patrick's Day on Fremont Street in Las Vegas. You are bound to see weird things. But I did a double take when I saw her, and even with my carb-ladden, beer-soaked brain, I knew something was off. Her back was turned to me, and she was wearing tiny little boy shorts, fishnet stockings, really tall black heels...and that's it. She had long hair, but I couldn't see anything on top except skin. Very exposed, very naked skin.

This is just a regular establishment - just a normal restaurant/bar that you would find in any city. (I think you might, since it's a chain). Brian actually eats lunch here on the weekdays quite often. So what was up with Naked Girl?

When she finally turned around, I realized what was going on.

Body paint.

Someone had painted on a white-corsetted-looking-thing on her torso and chest with the Jameson logo on it. It looked professional - amateurs need not apply - but that was all she had on. Just...paint.

Shocking, to say the least.

It was one of those moments of "Oh God...oh wow...seriously? Really?...just how is that paint staying on? And what's keeping...them...up?" 

Fascinating, to say the least.

I'm sure my jaw dropped, as did Brian's. Every guy in the crowd was swiveling to gawk at Naked girl when we realized she had a friend - except instead of white paint, this girl was "wearing" a red corset with the Jameson logo on it.

I give the good people as Jameson Whiskey an A+ for creating such a memorable marketing campaign. This was something none of us were ever going to forget.

The Jameson girls expertly wove through the crowd, posing for pictures, smiling, and passing out shots. They had two more friends, in teeny-tiny dresses with them, passing out the drinks and grinning and giggling. These women knew exactly what they were doing.

And then, inexplicably, they decided to play beer pong.

Guess who got bumped?

I slumped in my chair and pouted. I think I muttered to Brian, "How many miles do you think they run everyday?" but he was still staring so intently at them I don't think he heard me. (I'm pretty sure he stopped blinking for a solid five minutes). I can't believe me, girl in the blue sweatshirt that smelled like Thai food, lost her beer pong table to topless women passing out shots of free whiskey. The indecency of it all.

But in the end, I will admit, they were good. They beat the boys (and instead of beer, they used - what else? - Jameson whiskey) and managed to not fall over, vomit, or lose their paint. They actually ate food, too, and every time I looked over, one of them was stuffing french fries in her face. I was impressed, in a "I'm not sure I'm really witnessing this or hallucinating" kind of way.

So there you go. Our very Vegas St. Patrick's Day. Full of historic tunnels, baseball, Galaga, Thai food, and body paint. In a city that some claim lacks culture, I'm going to have to disagree. It's got a charm all its own.
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Ready for Round Two

1/5/2012

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...not babies...I'm talking about marathons.

Running really is like child birth. After the disaster that was Dec 4, I moaned, complained, and limped around for a while. And then, after licking my psychic wounds for a few weeks, time took on this magical quality and my memory of the event slowly altered. With a few good re-tellings of the tale, the abomination became anectdotal; after all, how many people can claim they almost pooped on the Strip in a crowd of 44,000? 

(If you are curious about our plans to expand our family, please know that labor and delivery was the best part of my pregnancy experience, ironically enough. After twelve long weeks of bed rest, seven trips to the hospital, and then the subsequent horror that was CatheterGate, I'll take L&D any day over those winners. So, yeah, no plans right now for a sibling for the Bear; he may flying solo for a long, long time to come. Sixteen days with a catheter would make anyone gun-shy.)

Okay, enough about pooping and child birth. Back to the topic at hand...

...I'm happy to report I've signed up for the Summerlin 1/2 Marathon that kicks off on April 14!

It's a much smaller race than the Rock-n-Roll one, and to the best of my knowledge, it not at night. (thank goodness!) I am not anticipating running next to a million Elvises, people wrapped in Christmas lights, or naked people, but it's Vegas so you never know. And I'm starting to learn that people who run in these races have a very quirky sense of humor. Like, running in tutus is fun. Huh?

What's even cooler than jumping on the marathon-train again is the amazing amount of interest this has generated. I posted it on my FB page, and within a day, several people confirmed they would also like to run, and there's a whole long list of "maybe's" (DEANA! NATALIE! JEN WHIIIIIIIITE!) I am thrilled and excited to see so many people taking an interest in it, and most of all, I want to encourage any of them reading this now to consider writing for the blog. I'd love to hear about your experiences as you start to train, and what things deep inside come to the surface (and I'm not talking about digestive issues). Running is so much more than putting one foot in front of the other; it's one part therapy, one part endurance, and a whole lot of mental toughness. It's quite a ride, from beginning to end, and I'm excited to see what the next few months bring.

And speaking of childbirth, after waxing poetic about the marathon for the entire month of December, I spent far too much time behind the computer than outside or on the treadmill. I finally jumped back on this past Sunday to do four  miles and OW! Talking about running is a lot easier than actually doing it. The soreness in my legs and lower back was a friendly reminder to make sure I put my money where my mouth is, and be consistent. Needless to say, I've already dusted off my training guide from last fall and am ready to get started. Again.

The Summerlin 1/2 Marathon is 98 days away, and I'm starting this second round of training in good spirits will all ten toenails still in tact. Let's hope both continue until April 14th!
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Running 101

12/29/2011

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Okay, as promised, here are some tips for beginning runners. Again, I want to clarify that I am not an expert, doctor, trainer, nutritionist, or even a good runner. I am just someone who started running on January 1 and completed a half-marathon in December. My point? If I can do it, you can do it. It just takes a little bit of courage and a whole lot of will power.

And a couple of packets of Gu. More on that later.

Two minutes on, one minute off

I started running on the treadmill for two reasons: 1.) I wanted to know my speed and 2.) I needed to see a clock. The clock-thing was more mental (i.e. "It feels like I've been running for 45 minutes and it's only been 6 minutes??") but ended up being very helpful. I realized that running a full mile was too much for me, so I broke it down: two minutes running, one minute walking. I did this for ten minutes. The first time doing it, I was so winded I could barely catch my breath. (in my defense, I was also recovering from abdominal surgery six weeks earlier. Or maybe I was just a big marshmallow. The jury is still out.)

Either way, I needed to take it slow.

And as I continued, my two-minutes-on-one-minute-off slowly lengthened. Instead of ten minutes, I stayed on the treadmill (at a comfortable pace, which at that time was about 5.3-5.5 mph) for twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Once I did it for an hour, and that's when I realized I didn't need the one minute recovery anymore. So I started running five full minutes at a time, then ten, and without thinking, by February I was easily clocking 20 minutes of solid running (5.5-5.8mph). It took about eight weeks to really get a good three miles in there, but again, I wasn't running for distance, just time. And that helped.

Train for something

Once I started logging three miles here, two miles there, my confidence soared. I felt like a serious bad-ass on the treadmill. My legs started to thin out and I carried my shoulders a little bit straighter. By July, it occurred to me that all of my treadmill running should be put to good use and I should do something adventurous. So I signed up for the half-marathon. Obviously, as previously stated, I signed up for the race for bigger reasons (i.e. my dad), but knowing that I had to run 13.1 miles in just under 5 months certainly made me motivated to keep running. December 4th loomed over me like a bad cloud, but I was committed; my $140 was not going to go to waste.

Find Support

This is where good coaches come in. I ran July and August by myself, and realized that I was totally in over my head. I still had not yet conceded that running is a team sport (or how a coach would be helpful), but feeling the pain in my knees and the fear of 13.1 miles looming in front of me convinced me to call up the boot camp instructors and register for their running team.

And in that, I found a whole new community. We received weekly emails that detailed everything from what to eat, how many miles to run per day, and even how to psychologically talk to yourself as the long (and longer) runs started. There is no way I would have ever challenged myself to run 7 miles alone; but when it was on the schedule, I showed up like a dutiful solider. And you know what? I finished first that day. (my friend Andrea, the fastest runner on the team, wasn't there. But I'm not going to focus on that detail). Not only did I finish, but coming in first did wonders for my running confidence. And then as we were leaving, a woman commented to me, "You are just a natural. You have the longest, most graceful stride."

I about fell over. I laughed and told her that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. Ever. In my whole life.

We both laughed, but it made me feel like a rock star. And certainly kept me going.

Good Gear is Key

Through the running team, on the first day, I found out my shoes were wrong, my socks were wrong, and even the way I tie my shoelaces were wrong. At the time, I was pretty defensive. Looking back, I realize they were right. And I was wrong. ::sigh::

So I bought new sneaks at a legit running store. I purchased non-cotton socks. I watched carefully as the coach tied my shoes, feeling as helpless as Scotty during the process. And after my initial feelings of uselessness wore off, I found myself going back to buy Gu, running pants (that I like to call my "go-fast pants"), and even a running stick (to roll out sore muscles). The point here? Good gear makes the process a lot more enjoyable. And fashionable, too.

Cross-train

This is where boot camp was key. Hill Day was critical to conditioning, and all of the ab work helped to tighten my core. It didn't usually come into play until after mile 3, but that's when I felt different parts of my body working in different ways. My mid-section literally felt as though there was a corset cinched around it. My breathing evened out and it was no longer one giant exercise in exhaustion. I wouldn't call running easy, but it certainly got easier. And cross-training really helped.

Accept the fact you will have bad days

I had a terrible run in early October. It was awful - I had gone with the group (it was one of those 4:45am runs) and the guy in front set the pace - this crazy 9-minute mile that went on for what seemed like hours. It was still really dark out, so I kept up with the group more out of fear of being mugged in the dark streets of Summerlin than out of the desire to run fast. And when we finished, I was destroyed. It was a horrible experience. My legs hurt, my head hurt, and I was wiped out mentally.

I didn't run for three days after that. And when I finally got the courage to don the non-cotton socks again, I was away for the weekend for a Junior League Conference. Courtney and I dragged ourselves out of the hotel for an early morning run, and I begged her to go slowly. She did, and we ended up doing 3.5 miles. That was all I had in me. I was still too afraid that I was going to feel awful or weak or puke or something. (ironic, considering how the actual marathon went...) But the run went fine and a tiny shred of my confidence was restored.

A couple more runs later proved that yes, I could still do this. A bad run doesn't mean I should quit the sport or give up or that I'm a failure - it was just a bad run. And better runs are right around the corner.

The first mile is the hardest

I love it when people say things like, "I don't even think I could run a mile." I want to say, "Yes, you can - the first mile is the worst!" To me, the first three miles are the worst. You're still working out the kinks and getting stretched out - your shoe doesn't feel right, that lace is bugging you, and why does your knee feel funny? I try to tell myself that the first three miles are basic diagnostic testing - what corrections should I make now in order to avoid injury longer into the run?

What's funny is by mile 5, I just would zone out. Miles 6-9 were consistently my favorite, and that's when I'd get the most work done: what Junior League stuff do I need to think about? What house stuff should I be focused on? What blog ideas can I come up with? What color two-piece bathing suit am I going to rock this summer, once this weight is off and I'm ready to go poolside again? 

By the end of October, I looked forward to my long runs since it felt like one long business meeting in my head. I think I was actually more organized running than not running, simply because I had two hours to myself every week. It was heaven.

                                          *********************

With that said, I hope these tips were helpful. If you have a tip you'd like to share, let me know and I'd love to include it. Or, if you felt some of my tips were wrong/inaccurate, let me know how I could correct them.

I'm excited for the new year ahead...and figuring our which race(s) to sign up for. Just this morning, Courtney pulled me aside at our park date and asked about possible 10Ks and half-marathons. Looks like the fiasco that was the Rock 'n' Roll marathon is fading quickly...and we're ready for Round 2. Weeeeee! Let's lace up the sneaks and get this party started!
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RaceGate: Now with Links!

12/16/2011

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I happened upon this article on Tuesday night. :

_http://weeklyseven.com/latest/2011/12/08/run-sweat-gasp-survive
_
Coincidentally, this was also the day Scotty and I embarked on our trifecta of errand running, in an effort to escape the cleaners. While at Target, I ran into someone from my running team, and she described the events in the article almost word-for-word.

The part about "compression kills" gave me chills.

The group that ran this marathon is so stinkin' lucky no one died. This whole thing could have been a massive, massive disaster.

Needless to say, I will never be running another Rock'n'Roll marathon again.

BIG thanks to Stesha (and her amazing technical skills) for showing me how to make links clicky! This is a a great day, indeed.
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Have Poop, Will Travel

12/16/2011

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While I  have remained house-bound this week, part of me has not.

Looks like the Cool-Whip Container is headed to Atlanta.

http://www.lvrj.com/news/tainted-water-ruled-out-as-cause-of-marathon-illnesses-135697653.html

(Stesha...help! Link me!)

I hear it's lovely there this time of year.

Editor's note: The Bear had another doctor's appointment this am and we've been cleared to rejoin the land of the living come Monday. Oxygen levels were good, no fever, and he seems to be responding well to the new antibiotics. He's a bit aggressive due to the oral steriods and my contact high from the Albuterol still hasn't wore off, but it appears this awful, awful week might finally be over.
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