inspired

Ever since I started running I've been seeing lots of Facebook posts and hearing lots of talk about people wanting to start up running or become more active in general.

I would never assume that I am the source for such inspiration... I kind of think it's like trying to get pregnant: suddenly everyone and their dog is pregnant and in your face. So maybe people have been running or thinking about running for a while and I'm only noticing it because of my recent transition into a runner.

But... a girl can dream, right?

My whole life I've felt on the outside looking in.

Not quite fitting in but not quite out enough to be an "outlaw."

I have felt talentless for a long time.

So I'll pretend for a moment that I am inspirational and that is my talent.

On this same line of thought......

I keep thinking about all the people who've inspired me over the years.

And I never actually told them--THANKED them--for inspiring me.

I have a few phone calls to make.

hiatus

So, I took a break from running.

I got sad. I got stressed. I got....

completely unmotivated.

I started feeling like running was "just another thing to do."

It was only about 5 days, but it felt so much longer.

Ugh.

I'm so glad that's over.

I ran this morning--2.4 miles.

It felt marvelous.

Stress melted away.

Worries worked themselves out.

My body and mind are thanking me.

I can't wait to do it again.

so hardcore

This weekend I went to Cedar City, Utah for a girls' weekend with my in-laws.

(I also took my 7-year-old daughter with me.)

I got really ambitious and packed my running gear so I could go on a Saturday morning run.
(On vacation? Who does that?!)

Friday night I set up our air mattress and my daughter and I fell asleep thinking happy thoughts: hers of the nail-painting party that was going to happen the following day, mine of the impending morning run.

About an hour after falling asleep, I woke up with my hip on the floor and my daughter laying half on me. Great... a hole in the mattress. I checked the plugs and re-inflated it, hoping that I would get a different outcome. (What is the definition of crazy again?)

After fighting with different positions and then waking up to hear my daughter having a hard time breathing I decided it just wasn't worth it and took her out to sleep on an armchair and I slept on the floor, then the couch.

Do I even need to tell you how much my body ached in the morning?

OW.

I turned off my alarm--there was NO WAY I was going to run. I needed sleep, maybe some ice cream, and a massage.

Then I remembered something I had read in this book I'm reading about the endorphins that are released during and after a run. (Endorphins are our body's natural pain relievers.)

So, I got up and I ran. I had no idea where I was going, I just knew that I wanted to go.

Let me tell you.

Cedar City has got some KILLER hills. At one point I seriously had to ask myself if I was even moving forward.

I pushed through the pain.

I found my groove.

It was awesome.

The rest of the day I felt great, energized, unstoppable!

I am so friggin' hardcore, guys... at least it feels that way.

{glitch}

So apparently I'm not allowed to comment on my own blog.

What gives?!

I'm hoping this is a (temporary) glitch with Blogger.

I wanted to say THANK YOU so much for commenting. This is why I created this blog. Y'all are my cheerleaders.

(I will even get you pom poms someday.)

....and now back to your regularly scheduled awesomeness.

no rest for the wicked

There are only two things in the world I actually enjoy waking up early for:

Having a baby

and

running.

Since I'm not currently pregnant nor plan to be in the near future, running it is.

All day yesterday I fretted over going to the gym today. (Told you I was a worrier.) Would the kids wake up in time? Would it be a fight to get them there? Would my 2-year-old bite someone (again)? And on... and on....

If you can't tell, we haven't had the best gym daycare experiences lately.

So last night I decided to set my alarm and get to it early in the morning.

5:30 am came mighty early.

(yawn)

But I'm so glad I did it. I was rewarded with a nice breeze and a beautiful view.

I'll get plenty of sleep when I'm dead, right?

are we there yet?

So sometimes I wonder why I need to use a treadmill.

Why can't I go run in the great outdoors?

Well, today I was reminded.

My husband works part time and goes to school full time. He leaves in the morning at 6:30am and comes home in the evening at 6:45pm. Then it's dinner, spending time with the kids, getting the kids to bed, doing homework until we fall asleep somewhere between midnight and 1am. (Did I mention I'm going to school, too? Oh, well, I am!)

Friday and Saturday mornings are bliss for me. I wake up, smile at the hubs and whatever kids have crawled into our bed in the middle of the night, and run my little heart out--alone.

But two days a week is not enough running for this newly-addicted Chiquita.

So, what about the rest of the week?

Well, back to today.

It's summer in the Wasatch. There's a slight breeze and some mildly-threatening clouds: it's beautiful weather to run in. I have a double jogging stroller and my two oldest can keep up on their scooters.

However, it's no picnic.

Pushing a stroller while running takes a lot more effort than running by your lil ol' self. That's good, right?

Except every 3 seconds having to tell the littler kids to get their hands away from the wheels and answer the never-ending "Are we there yet?" and "How much longer?" questions my older kidlets throw at me.

Finding my groove is a lost cause, and--while it's still an "okay" workout--I haven't really enjoyed myself.

So, tomorrow I hit the gym. It's win-win, really. The kids play, I run, then we are reunited happy and ready to spend the rest of the day together.

Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

Are we there yet?

pandora (almost) ate my mojo

So I love my iPod. I also love Pandora. While my iPod is not lacking in tunage, Pandora offers my noggin' a plethora of songs I might not have normally chosen. I can also change the channel according to my current situation--running, relaxing, escaping, etc.

This morning, however, Pandora almost ate my mojo.

I actually don't know if I should blame Pandora, Blackberry, or Sprint. I'm not going to waste my time over-analyzing it.

As I began the pre-run stretch routine, I started up Pandora, which if you didn't know takes a while to start up. Then as I began my run it kept cutting out. And then starting again. And then cutting out a few seconds later.

This lasted for about the first 10 minutes of my run. Mojo? Oooooh Mojo? Here, boy!

Gone.

I don't know what it is about music. It's in my blood. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not good at MAKING music --in any form-- but when I listen to music I get into a happy place. When I run with music I get into a groove and everything--my breathing, my steps--falls into place.

Ask my mom and she'll tell you I have a disorder.

No, really.

Most people talk in sentences. I talk in lyric. Anything anyone says reminds me of a song and I start singing it (much to their dismay) or saying it (which just makes them give me a looney-look).

Some people wouldn't be bothered by a less-than-stellar Pandora experience. They'd turn it off and let their thoughts run with them. I can't do that. My thoughts are running all day long--I'm a worrier, it's my nature. The music helps me lose my thoughts and find my heart. Sappy, right?

Well, I'm not sure what happened but after those torturous 10 minutes Pandora starting running smooth as butter and my mojo came home, wagging his tail behind him.

What gets your mojo going?

bring it on back

Me 'n JT, we could use some help.

You see, we're bringing sexy back (yah!) and you should bring it back with us.

This blog is my outlet for my triumphs and trials in my treadmill excursions.

As of right now... I don't exactly HAVE a treadmill.

BUT--no fear--I do use and abuse the ones at the gym.

And let me say, when I've got my tunes in my ear and that belt swishing below me, I get a treadmill swagger like you cannot believe.

Them other girls don't know how to act.