Commando Running

So after fighting my underwear longer than I care to note, I decided to liberate myself and go commando running the other day.  And post the experience, I screamed, "Hell yes!"

Sick of the thong (really who wants a string compressed up their ass), tired of the panty line (it's just ugly to look like you have two asses), and frustrated by the distraction of my undies getting in the way, I thought, F it.  I'm going all naturale.

I recently finished a fabulous book that you mama runners should check out entitled, "Train Like a Mother."  The two co-authors wrote one prior to it called, "Run Like a Mother."  Both excellent reads.  Hysterical.  Down to earth fantastic accounts of running with the demands of partnering and parenting.

They've been letting their nether regions air out for years.  And it was after reading their account of commando running that I thought, yep, I'm going for it.

If you decide to take the plunge too, here's a few recommendations:

One...no longer do you have the compression of your panties, so suck in your gut.  You should be contracting your core anyway, but now you're really aware.  Make your stomach work for you.

Two...make sure that your pants or shorts are on your ass tightly.  I nearly lost mine on the treadmill the other morning which was encouraging because they're getting too big...but could have been mortifying to share all of me with the early morning risers.

Three...wash yourself.  Don't be stinky.  Enough said.

I have a few friends that go commando with all of their clothes.  I'm not saying that you have to be a dare devil...I'm just saying it's kind of fun.  Get crazy.  Try it.   You only live once, right?

The Push

I'm not on auto pilot in my life right now and that has me tired...a good chunk of the time.

You know what I mean by auto pilot, right?  It's that sweet spot when you've sort of mastered your role at at the office, you've got a good schedule going on at home, your partner/kids are doing well, and life is sort of coasting.  These seasons afford you time to dream about the next stage or to get complacent.

Staring down the last two weeks of training prior to my first half marathon, I've been putting in a lot of time running, icing, stretching, and in general trying to take care of my body.  I'm hyper aware of melting away the last few pounds and am eagerly awaiting my swim suit in the mail.

I'm trying to resurrect my jewelry business (so if you're in need of fun summer jewels, call me).  I'm trying to figure out how to organize the summer so that the kids don't drive each other crazy and send me to the loony bin.  And, most spare moments are spent chasing an insanely busy, high energy, sneaky 16-month old around.

I'm not coasting.  I feel like I'm "on" a lot.  Most moments are really full and when they're not, it's because my body, brain or both have gone kaput.

So this is the push.  You've been there before.  Where you've got to stay determined, a little "balls to the wall," and very focused on the prize...because it is all within reach.  I'm trying to use visualization techniques, mantras, phone calls to friends and in general, an undying belief that says "you WILL get there."

But I've gotta admit, I'm looking forward to finding the sweet spot again.  Then again, knowing me, I'll be on to the next thing. 

"I Do"

I had this great track record in my early 20's of dating a few really great guys for a significant stretch, getting the boot, and then learning that they married the women following me.  I sort of took it as a compliment.

So, by my mid-20's, I decided that I was done dealing with relationships.  I was accepted into a Conflict Resolution graduate program (ironic, I know), working full-time, and focused on taking care of me.

And then he came...back into my life...sort of.  Ray and I had one class together for one semester in undergrad.  We weren't really friends and after his abrupt transfer back to his home university, I never saw him again.

But like clock work, every two years or so for almost a decade, I would receive an email that went something like this..."How are you?  How's the heartland?  How's the latest schmuck treating you?  When are you going to come out west?  You're amazing.  Take care of you."

It was definitively a "When Harry Met Sally," experience.  When I was in a relationship, he wasn't.  And then when I'd gotten dumped, he was with a girl.  We lived over 1500 miles away and could barely remember what the other one looked like.  We just enjoyed smart, effortless, funny, virtual banter every few years and reveled in the fact that there was a good person on the other side of the country.

And then it came.  I had a conference in San Diego and he left me a voice mail.  "I booked a ticket...I'll see you on the beach."  Three months post the trip, he quit his job, sold most of his belongings, and drove his car to Nebraska and a very dear friend sublet her apartment to him.  Six months later, we were engaged and the rest is our history.

It's crazy how beautiful love stories play out.  Each year on our anniversary, he finds out the symbolic connection of the year and inscribes our vows on the material.  On the year of wood, he found a vintage jewelry box and inscribed them on the inside.  He's found amazing ways to utilize paper, glass, cotton, iron, and this year pottery...a gorgeous platter that he painted with the words.

Eight years ago today, we both said, "I do."  I'm so glad.

Friends with Your Ex?

If you ask someone if they are friends with their former boyfriend or girlfriend, wife or husband,  you'll get a wide range of responses.

Everything from an eye roll accompanied by a "hell no," to a "we rarely, if ever, bump into each other," to a "yeah, sure, we're cool...he's got a great wife."

My parents divorced when I was four years old and my dad married our neighbor.  Suffice it to say that my parents have never been friends and for a long time struggled to be civil.  So, I've never really had a model for what being friends with your former partner looks like.

When I've asked other people if they've been successful at carrying on a friendship with their former fill in the blanks, most say that it's impossible because of the history (insert intimacy/sex).

But why is that?  If timing has anything to do with it...and most of the time it does...it seems fair that you wouldn't be capable of a friendship immediately following a break up.  It's too painful.  Emotions are raw.  The dream you had is gone and the life you thought that would be is different.

After time has passed and particularly when both people have new, permanent people in their lives...is it possible to strike up a friendship?  Do you have anything in common anymore?  Might you be better friends than life partners?  Do you care to share your life and learn about the details of theirs?

I'm sure that it also has to do with the emotional maturity of both people and the comfort level of their new partners. 

And if you asked my parents, they would say that I'm barking up the wrong tree.  That no one in their right mind can really be friends...there's usually an ulterior motive.

There have been plenty of movies, articles written, talk shows done and conversations had about the age old topic...I think I'm just an idiot or naive for thinking that its possible.  Thoughts?

Time is Love

We all get 24 hours in a day...seven days in a week...52 weeks in a year.

Time is the great equalizer, the level playing field.

The difference is in how we choose to spend our time and who we spend it with.

I've always believed that you're guilty by association and that you are what you focus on.

Is it your smart phone?  facebook?  Work?  The couch?  Your past?  Your future?  Your body?  Your soul?  Your kids?  Your wife?

I'm not a huge fan of the term "quality time."  Because in my mind and certainly in the minds of my children, time is time.  If you're with me and your engaged...I want as much of that as I can get.  I don't want trips to restaurants, gifts, or a big house.  I want you.  I want your time.

This summer, we're taking our kids on a family vacation to Colorado.  It's our first trek and we're very excited.  I've heard all kinds of cool things about Rocky Mountain National Park....so, we're counting down the days until we get to hike, cycle, fish, and play.  It won't involve a theme park.  We won't be bringing home any prizes or t-shirts.  But it will be seven days of time spent together.

In the end, the greatest gift that we can give to those we love is ourselves.  That's all any of us really wants, right?  A phone call, a card, a coffee chat, a conversation where you look at me, I look at you and we know that this space is ours.  Time is love.

Kindness in a Phone Call

The phone rang.

I was busy drying the dinner dishes and lamenting about how my knees ached from my hard five mile run this morning. 

According to my training plan, I should have run nine miles today.  I've been derailed for nearly three weeks with shin splints and am gradually getting back into it...struggling to build back up the mileage and the momentum that I lost along the way....and fearing that three weeks may not be enough time to get ready.

"Hello?," I said.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner or evening with your family.  I was thinking about you and had to call.  I'm experiencing shin splints from the crazy amount of pounding on pavement today on my long walk (she works for a national non-profit) and I'm in pain.  I have no idea how you've been doing it.  But I wanted to let you know that I'm behind you.  You're not just running for you.  You're running for all of us."

After thanking her, I got off the phone and sobbed.

A stupid, dumb, 13.1 mile race.  Why has this become so important to me?  Enough to have me icing my legs four times a day.  Taking ibuprofen with each meal.  Reading everything I can get my hands on about form, cadence, shoes, injury remedies and running, in general. 

It's important, I think, because in some tangible way, it represents me.  The re-birthing of me.  Since I started this process, I've lost 22 pounds, gained strength, endurance, a lot of heart ache, and confidence.

The running I do is for me.  It's so that I can be a better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend...so that I can feel me again.  The miles, the pain, the endorphins, the exhilaration, the hurt, the hope...it's mine.  And I want so bad to finish this first big race.

So thank you, friend for the phone call.  Thank you for actually picking up the phone, dialing my number, and saying the words.  You have no idea how much they mean.  Your call demonstrated how we should never underestimate the power of reaching out.  We need each other more than we know.

No-No's at the Gym

Now that I've been getting up at the crack of dawn and joining all of the other crazy early morning folks at the gym, I've developed some observations.

If you're a newbie or have been going for sometime and fallen into some bad habits, here's a few tips to consider as you workout.

When you sweat half your ass off on a machine (of any sort, treadmill, elliptical, weights), please grab a towel, some cleaning spray, and take 30 seconds to wipe it down.  It's just nasty to start your workout seeing the remnants of someone else's.

It's weird to hold hands walking around the track with your significant other.  The gym is a time to exercise.  It's cool to be together.  But no need to jam up the flow of other runners/walkers while you make googly eyes at each other with a hand chain.  Work up a sweat and then get a room.

Take a peak at what you're wearing before you walk out the door.  No one needs to spend hundreds of dollars on workout gear.  Although, if you want to, check out www.lululemon.com   But just make sure that your ass is not hanging out, nor are your sisters, and that relatively speaking, you can show up maintaining a little modesty and still get the job done.

No hacking, blowing your nose, or tooting in public areas.  That's what the locker room is for.  Really enough said on that.

And finally, the gym isn't a place to hang out and talk, at least not at the expense of someone else needing to use your machine or stretch area.  Do the catch up, "chatty Cathy" deal in a less trafficked area so that you're not keeping someone from getting their workout in.

It's really not hard.  Just be considerate.  Exercise a little Golden Rule action.  And enjoy.  Sweating your ass or your beer/burger/weekend indulge off is a good thing.  Be intense.  Have fun.  Just do so with others in mind.  And no, Prairie Life is not paying me.