Okay Okay

I am off my biological imperative kick. For now.

Let's start with Barbie:

The poor lamb has seen better days. I finally found her head:

When I begin to feel glum, like I am just running on the hamster wheel and going nowhere in particular except, eventually, off the wheel and into the ground, I can think of Barbie--mutilated by a 20 pound dog. Things could be so much worse than endless running.

And I do love running. Right?

The big news: on Saturday I RODE OUTSIDE. This was a big feat. It was 35 degrees, windy and cold on Saturday. The night before I had carefully cleaned and readied Mrs. Z for the outside, though, and I would be DAMNED if I didn't go through with my outside adventure. I dressed warmly, and you know? It was fine!  I am so over it!

I remember with running it was this way. I thought, can I run in 10 degree weather? Will my lungs splinter into icicles in my chest if I try? And then I did run in 10 degree weather. And it was fine! Pleasant even! So although I will not be riding during snowstorms, I will now be riding through the winter when I can. If 35, cold and windy is just fine, then I'm sure 25, cold and windy can't be that much worse. There is a man who lives in my neighborhood who rides his bike to work year round. In the dead of winter I watch him ride off at 7 a.m., 10 degrees out and think, He is NUTS. But you know? I think maybe he is onto something.
 

Yesterday I had my final very long run before Boston. It trashed me more than other runs have. I think it could be the close proximity of the brick the day before, or maybe that I hadn't gotten enough sleep the previous nights leading up to it. I was able to run part of it with a few of my friends, and that DEFINITELY made it easier. But I was tired from the start. It was a tough one mentally to get through.


I need a few good new songs for my IPod. Let me know if you have suggestions.

A Reponse

This was sent to me anonymously in response to my last post. I think it's excellent, so I decided to post it. I know most of you aren't particularly interested in these little philosophical debates...but I like them, and hey, it's my blog! haha!


"They say we only use ten percent of our brains. I think we only use ten percent of our hearts."
-- Owen Wilson, Wedding Crashers

I'll take your E. M. Forster and raise you one...

I'm no evolutionary biologist, but I think you have reversed the biological priorities in your post.  An individual's primary purpose is to perpetuate the species.  Early on, this takes the form of advancing one's own reproductive potential. So eventually you have kids. Then, having fulfilled your reproductive purpose you live out the rest of your life in service to those who still have to fulfill their reproductive potential. That is how your priority of perpetuating the species stays consistent, though your role may change.  Maybe over time, then, we evolve from selfish individuals to those who are more altruistic, at least in the reproductive sense.

Except that it doesn't quite work that way. For starters, even after you have kids, you still have reproductive potential. So what do you do?  Do you live in service to your kids and their potential, or do you continue your quest to preserve your own?  And even if your reproductive ability suddenly disappeared, we're still human and we've gotten attached to the initial, selfish quest and it's hard to let go of it and just be in service to others.

The reality is, I think, that we try to do both. We try to live for our kids and ourselves at the same time. Because we can do both, we want to do both, and because no one is forcing us to make an absolute choice.

So, what do the game-theoretic, evolutionary biologists have to say to this?  Something about maximizing net societal reproductive capacity?  I don't know and, while I love to think about that shit, to a certain extent I don't really care.  Because at that point it starts to feel like I'm forcing messy reality to fit a once-elegant model and that seems to have reversed priorities as well. It also makes me feel like inevitably, as we head down the intellectual and logical paths, we have to reduce love to a crude biological imperative toward preserving the species.  I only love someone so that I can fuck them.  I only love my kids so that, one day, they too may fuck.

You could argue that I basically nailed it right there.  That it's all about the fuck. But there's something more to fucking that just having offspring and there's something to love that's more that just self- and social preservation.  It feels good and it feels right and it's the same thing that, as I mentioned above, drives one to act in their own self interest even after their own reproductive viability has passed.

There's a great phase in a new relationship in which all you do is eat, sleep and fuck--often sacrificing the former two for the latter one.   But over time things change and we aim for more in life than simply to eat, sleep and fuck.  We decide it was time to not just fuck, but reproduce.

Why do we do that?  Were we just acting according to some genetic programming?  I don't buy it. I had kids because somewhere deep down I was convinced it was right.  I wouldn't have had kids unless I felt that way.  That same sense is causing you to examine your motivations and question the evolutionary imperative. You, in a very honest way, are refusing to simply adopt morals and ethics that our culture hangs over us and that many would accept without questioning.  You won't accept it until and unless you feel it is right.  How evolutionarily-correct is that?  It must be some subtle code that would allow us to question its primary function.

I don't think you had kids just so that they might reproduce.  I think it is way more likely you had them so they might eat, sleep and fuck. And love it.

Who Cares?

I wish this sentiment didn't strike me so frequently. I am jaded; I'm fairly certain I have been jaded since birth.

I seldom believe that a person's motivations stem from anything but self need. Even Mother Theresa needed something. I'm not sure what... but her motivation to be the saint she was stemmed from some place of emptiness... of a self that needed to be recognized by God, by others... by something.  Ultimately, I don't believe in altruism. It is a human contrivance used to try to mask our selfishness.

See. I'm bad.

I like to watch my dogs because they are so unabashed about their selfishness. Ernie and Hazel love each other, I think--or they love each other in the dog version of that--but they will nevertheless steal eachother's food, or hog the best place in their shared crate, or jump all over me in jealously and desperation when I pay any attention to the other.  Kids are somewhat like this, as well. They wear their selfishness in the open, at least until they ripen to the point of understanding they must hide their selfish desires in favor of appearing "human."

Except it's human to watch out first for self. It's human to be selfish. If it weren't human to be selfish, our species would have died out a long time ago. Species simply do not last the cold indifference of evolution if they are altruistic. It just doesn't work. So what is actually human is our playing at altruism... at care.

This is not to say that humans don't experience care. They do. It's just that care does not stop most of us from moving onward with our lives in the face of world tragedy, for example. I felt horror watching videos of the Tsunami wreckage in Japan. And then I went to Starbucks and got myself a latte and thought about who knows what: my upcoming race, what I needed at the grocery store, whether I had enough time to walk the dogs before I got the kids off the bus.. And I don't think this makes me a bad person. I think it makes me a human person.

Naked I came into this world, naked I shall go out of it. And a very good thing too, for it reminds me that I am naked under my shirt, whatever its colour.
(That's E.M. Forster. He's a smart dude.)

etc.

Why the hell am I writing about this? It is certainly not uplifting. It is jaded. And I know many of you are thinking I have it all wrong. That I need to, perhaps, study Jesus. That humans are not animals and were designed separately... uniquely...

I'm not really having an existential crisis. I'm not.
Really I'm just trying to make myself feel okay about my life and my choices. So it's all about me. Of course. ;)
_________________

Because this post is such a boring downer and only written so I can blab and get my jaded self some air time... I will end it with some down-to-earth regular tri-blog fare.

• I had a smokin' run today. And then I got on the bike to do these really hard intervals and I nearly keeled over and died trying to do them. And if I did die? You would feel this pang! And then you would go get a latte... (oops, sorry. still being jaded.)
• I'm trying to figure out my game plan for Boston. The only plan I have is to P.R. I just don't don't know how I'm going to do that yet.
• I'm going to ride outside on Saturday morning even if it's 20 below zero. I'm done with the trainer. DONE! But I have watched several seasons of Desperate Housewives. Excellent show, I must say. Many a crisis to put my own crises in perspective.

Have a great weekend!

Lots O' Racing Weekend:Day 3 and 4

I must admit I did not feel much like swimming when Saturday morning rolled around. I had worked quite hard the day previous, even if my heart wasn't originally in the effort. I was scheduled to swim the 500 free and the 50 back on Saturday, only two morning events this time because I wanted to save myself for my half marathon effort on Sunday. Of course, morning or not, the 500 free is not an event to take lightly in terms of energy suckage. It is a killer.

I will be straight. Kurt did not want me swim racing at all this weekend. He wanted me to rest and focus solely on the half. He nearly strangled me (except you can't strangle over email, luckily for moi) when I mentioned I may be cornered into doing a few relays. When I told him how hard it was to say no to Zach and Son (MESC meet organizers) he resorted to begging--something like please please please do not do any more events! The begging was too much. I knew I had to say no (NE record up for grabs or not, right, Son?) :) and I also knew I should scratch the 500.

And I did scratch it. I came to Blodgett on Saturday morning just to race the little ol' 50 back. I warmed up well (as opposed to the previous day) and practiced a few starts. I was in the 9th heat of 14--the middle--of course. The worst part of the back is jumping in the water to start. The water is so damn icy it takes your breath away, and then you just prolong the agony by waiting to start as you hang onto that little bar under the blocks.

My start was once again a rather pathetic back flop. I really really do suck at them, but I got over it and into the groove and had a fast tight turn at the 25.  I kicked hard off the wall and then continued to kick like a mother the whole second length, touching the pad in 35.8. When I was 14 I came in second in the 50 back at our Junior High Championship in a 33 something. So I am a little off that... but 35.8! Not so bad for 26 years later. And I had lopped two seconds off my seed time, which is pretty sweet since the last time I did the 50 back I had on one of those spiffy speedsuits. I ended up placing 7th out of 11 in AG. (not even the middle, God dammit) but I am still happy with the effort, and I got to collect my pretty purple ribbons for two 7th places in the 100 and 50 back.

Alina won the 50 back in AG in a 31 flat. She also won the 50 free in 25.2 and was 2nd in the 100 IM in 1:07.4. She is amazing. (But she didn't get any purple ribbons... only blue. So there.)

----------------------------------------- SUNDAY--------------------------------------------

I was stressed to the freaking max for this race.
I had a plan, but when I really thought about this plan I felt seriously ill. The plan was to take it out in 6:55 pace on the Garmin, knowing that the Garmin GPS is always slightly off (measuring miles slightly short) and so a 6:55 pace would likely truly be a 7:00 pace at race's end.
This pace was not an unreasonable target given how I have been running in training lately. However, it is faster than my previous 10K PR (not that that my 10K PR is anything to brag about), but still, I was going to take it out in a pace faster than I had ever averaged in a 10K? Was I high?

So I simply tried no to think. I would just execute. I would not let myself down, and I would prove to Kurt that I can race and not let me head get in the way. I would.


(God, I hoped I would.)

One of the reasons I picked this half is because I didn't know anyone doing it. Less pressure when you don't know anyone there and you can just fart and blow snot rockets as you race without fear someone will tell on you. Turns out I knew a ton of people at the race, though. One of my athletes, Jim, was there (okay, I knew he was racing... :) Courtney and Pat were there (Pat got second even after getting lost on the course), my GNRC friends Zac, Tom and John were there (Zac was fourth. I know all the fast people, huh?) and my two blogger friends Ana Maria and Kristina were there, too. (Ana Maria was 4th female and Kristina had a BIG PR, going well under 1:40.)

Anyway. I clearly could not rest easy if I chose to fart, piss, or blow snot during the race. I did anyway, but the fact that I knew people at the race did cause me pause.

Onward. This post is getting to be way too long, so I will cut to the chase. I took it out maybe a little too hard. I then held my own for quite a long time, even though I could not for the life of me find a big body to sit behind so I could avoid the wind off the water. I doubted myself at mile 5 when we hit a big hill, but then I pulled it together on the big downhill that followed. I felt good in the middle--or as good as can be expected given I was racing a 1/2--and didn't lose it again until mile 11 when a rather long, large hill forced me to slow my pace and wonder if I had enough gas in the tank to finish. I pulled it together again, though, and finished well, though I admit there may have been a little pissing my pants involved in the last tenth or so.
Here are my splits:
6:44
6:51
6:55
7:01
7:01 (4/5 had that damn hill)
6:57
6:49
6:49
6:57
7:00
7:06 (started to lose it b/c of the hills)
7:15 (started to wonder if I would finish or drop dead if this hill didn't end)
6:55 (pulled it together through here)
5:44 ( for last little bit, downhill)

Finished in 1:30:59. I would write 1:31 flat, but I killed myself to get to the finish when I saw I was close to breaking 1:31, so I am giving myself full credit for that one second. I also PR'd the 10K (in 42:55) and the 10 mile (in 1:09.09). So yes, this was a super big PR race for me!  I ended up 8th overall and 3rd in my AG. The field was big... with about 850 racing, I think, so I am mighty proud, thanks.

Thanks to Kurt. Like mucho thanks. like mucho mucho mucho thanks.

Lots O' Racing Weekend:Day 1 and 2

I had a big weekend in terms of racing.

It started with the race to clean the house on Thursday. Alina came down from Maine to swim in the NE Masters Championship at Harvard, and before her arrival, the house was pretty grim. The most grim were the bathrooms.  They were like close-to-vomit upon entry disgusting. After going through several bottles of Lysol and several sponges, I moved onto the kids' rooms, which basically entailed throwing every clothing item on the floor into the basement laundry and changing sheets-- which aside from Noah's hadn't been changed in... a very long time. (Best not to try to figure out how long I always say...) I admit I may have used a little disinfectant in the kids' rooms, too. I then lit smelly candles all over the house to try to get rid of the super potent dog smell.  The effect was quite satisfying. The house appeared to be somewhat tidy and clean. I struggled to keep it clean after the kids arrived home from school and before Alina showed up (kinda like rowing upstream), but I prevailed!
Race #1 = a win for Mary.

The next race(s) began the following morning at Blodgett Pool at Harvard for the NEMSCY Championship. I admit, I haven't been focused on my swimming of late, and I wasn't focused for this meet either. My lack of swimming verve was bad enough so that I actually contemplated not warming up for my events because I simply didn't feel like getting wet. Yep. Not a good sign.

I did warm up in the end. I then went onto swim five events: the 100 free, the 50 fly, 200IM,, the 100 back and the 50 free in a relay. Those of you who once competed in swimming (or still do) will nod, knowing I was swimming super fun events... none of which (save possibly the 200IM)  had the potential to kill me.

The 100 free was first. I may or may not have warmed up quite enough to swim decently. I was seeded in the 9th heat of about 18, so as per usual, smack in the middle. The first length felt smooth and easy (as it always does) but by the third length I was feeling that whole body cement-like, hypoxic pain of swim sprinting and I was wondering why the hell I insisted in swimming in these meets. My splits were still pretty even, though, and my time (1:07.7) is only a second or two off what I did when I was a kid, so I will take it. I finished 12th out of 19th in my AG. Humbling... but hey, I was with SWIMMERS at a championship meet! Alina placed first in 57 seconds. The girl is fast.

Next up was the 50 fly. This was my best showing of the meet in terms of placing. It felt smooth and easy until the last few strokes of the 2nd length. Gotta love the 50. I finished in 33.9, about normal for me, and was 10th out of 22 in my AG. Again, I'll take it. Alina was first again, in 28 seconds.

The 200 IM was al slightly disasterous. I am best at fly and back. Breaststroke is my weakest stroke with free following closely behind. Hence I always am winning my heat at the 100, and then dead last by the end of the race. It's serouisly demoralizing. They need to have a 100 fly/back event. That would ROCK. Anyway, I took it out in 1:16, and then finished in 2:52. So you do the math and please don't cringe too much. I finished 9th out of 14 in my AG. Same old.

By the 100 back I was freaking tired. Meets are exhausting. Still, back is my best stroke, so I had high hopes. I felt surprisingly good, and finished in 1:17, despite a totally pathetic back flop at the start. Four seconds off high school... but still. NOT so bad. I was 7th out of 12 in my AG, again, in the bottom middle. Hey, at least I'm consistent! Alina... was 1st AG in 1:07. She's consistent too.

I was with some awesome Maine girls (I swim for Maine) in the 200 free relay. No pressure, just fun. The big thing is not to jump the gun and DQ the relay. I had a pretty good start (I swam 2nd) and finished the 50 in 30.3. I have yet to break 30. Annoying.  Alina's 200 free relay broke the NE record. She swam her 50 in 25.2. She is a sprinting swim goddess.

So that was my day! Are you still with me?

After the meet we had a fabulous dinner at the Border Cafe with Mike and John, two of our MESC (Maine) swimmer friends. Margaritas!!! Yum.

Stayed tuned for Part II of race weekend. It gets better. (at least for me!)

Groundhog Day and Pain

Wake.

wakethekidswalkthedogsfeedthekidsfeedthedogspackthelunchescleanupbreakfastforgetmy

coffeeinthemicrowavecleanupshitscoldhazelforstealinglara'stoastgeternieoffthetable!thebus

willbehereinoneminutewhereismycoffee?wellwhydidn'tyoueatwhenyouhadthechance?thebusiscoming!

youforgotyourbackpackforchrist'ssakemomdon'tswearthatwasnotswearingyouwantmetoswear?

getthehellouttherebeforeireallystarttoswear!ohmygodmomsaidhell!

etc.

I am having a groundhog day sort of week. I know that movie is a comedy, but I still think it was quite poignant. And I adore Bill Murray. Meatballs. Lost in Translation.

My week has also been punctuated by vivid dreams. In my dreams I'm late for class or I can't find something or I can't open my locker at school and the halls are fast becoming silent. In one dream I couldn't get to Ernie before he was hit by a car.

My dreams might be because I'm racing this weekend. Or they might be simply because I am fucked up. One or the other.

I have a meet on Friday and Saturday at Harvard. It's the Short Course Yards Masters Championship-- a big meet. I am not stressed about the meet, though. Alina is coming down. I'm more focused on that. I will swim a few events. It will be fun. It will mean nothing.

I'm stressed, however, about my 1/2 marathon on Sunday.

I usually get anxious about big big races--like say, IM, or even a 1/2 IM. But this is just a stupid road race. It is just a benchmark.. a stop along the way... a measure.  The problem is that I have been running very well lately.

How is that a problem, you ask?
Well... it's problematic in that it makes me wonder, and hope, and maybe even fantasize about what I might be able to do. And the truth is that hope--hope that crosses over into fantasy especially--is dangerous. It can lead to disappointment. And embarrassment; embarrassment that I could imagine more from this 40 year-old-body than it will hand over.
Disappointment and embarrassment can be painful.
And protecting myself from pain is. very. important.

I sound like some scarred woman... burned over and over by her lofty aspirations that didn't pan out. But I'm not a scarred woman. Racing has given me an endless sense of accomplishment. I generally don't let myself down, and I long gave up the notion that anyone really gives a crap how I do other than me. (Which is not to say people aren't supportive... just that my doing well or not rocks no one's world except my own.) So why the fear of psychic pain?

I have my private theories, and I will allow you to draw your own conclusions. But one thing I will say: there is a tension that exists between my groundhog life and the thrill that comes with risking failure. And the reason I am passionate about racing is because if that tension did not exist I'm fairly certain--neither would I.

Mish Mash

I have been writing infrequently for the last few months. As a result I have a backlog of posts I want to write all swirling about in my head.  The problem is that when I sit down to write I can't remember what I felt so keenly I must write about. It is frustrating. It makes me feel like I have early onset Alzheimer's.

Which reminds me, I am reading Still Alice by Lisa Genova. Actually, more accurately, I am listening to it in my car on CD.
This is what is weird for me. Lisa and I went to Bates College together. We shared the same circle of friends. We weren't especially close, but we were friends enough to always be at the same small party or at the same table in Commons, (where we ate meals) or in the same section of the library. (Please note she was at the library many more hours than I was, of course, and also at the library at times I did not frequent it, like the morning.) Lisa was our valedictorian. This was especially amazing because the girl partied. She definitely partied. She was this combination of incredible discipline and also social savvy and hip.  I digress. Anyway, the weird part is hearing HER voice on the CD, and losing myself in the story she wrote as she reads it.  Every once in awhile I remember it's her.. and think, Weird. That's Lisa!


Here is a list of updates in Mary-ville:

• I actually did every yard of swimming I was scheduled to do this week. This hasn't happened for many moons, so I am pleased. 
• I had an awesome run yesterday. It was one of those runs during which I thought, Wait, WHY do I do triathlon? I love just running!
• On Sunday I made it through a three hour trainer ride. I have friends who are on the trainer routinely for three or more hours at a time, but I find it painfully hard to do that. I have a hard time focusing on TV while I work out, but then... just sitting in the same place for three hours is incredibly boring without the TV. So I will watch TV during the easy parts of the ride, and then lose track of what I am watching when the hard parts kick in. I then have no clue what is happening when the easy parts of the ride return. I just want to get outside. Soon. It will be soon.
• On a totally non-training front, my son (age 7.5) was just diagnosed officially with ADHD. I am not shocked or upset about it, but I also don't exactly know what to DO about it. If you have a child with ADHD, or you have experience with it in any way I would love your input. Medication for someone so young? Diet? Resources? How should I deal with getting the services he needs in school? How can I help him control his emotional responses (explosive)? How can I help him make and keep friends? He is so sharp, cute, lovable, and funny. And I can see how his ADHD manifests -- it is a part of his funny, lovable, sharp nature! I totally accept the diagnosis. I just want to help him. I don't know how to help him.
• I'm convinced that hot, power yoga will be the next "essential" of triathlon training. It strengthens without worry of injury (unlike Cross Fit or even TRX), it balances, it stretches, it makes one more aware of her body and the way it moves and works, and it is peaceful , self-affirming, and rejuvenating. Most importantly, it helps to undo the inflexibility and the tightness that swim/bike/run inflicts. I know that more and more runners and triathletes are doing yoga. I also know there has been NO research that has shown that yoga helps triathlon or run performance. But I'm convinced it does help, and I think it is the next coming wave for us. I believe it has prevented me from becoming so tight in my calves/ankles and feet that I snap, even as my run and bike mileage have increased each week.
• Jesse just wrote a great post on what he describes as the "stress budget." I am your typical AG triathlete, spending outside of my budget when I have no business doing so. I've gotten better at this, but it remains a problem. It is also a problem for nearly EVERY athlete I coach. It takes a long time to drill into a driven AG triathlete that recovery is equally important to success as hard training. I frequently hear, "but I don't want to fall behind!" when a recovery week is assigned. I get this. I feel the same way about my own training. But after some hard lessons, I do understand the gold that recovery is, and so I take it. I am hoping next season will be all the better for it.

A Post in Which I Blab and Get Gross

I have had a slew of totally crappy crappy workouts now. I have some sort of a sleeping/weak/tummy/bowel sickness. What is really truly annoying is that I actually feel okay. I'm am just like 1 degree off, and it is fucking up my week, big time.

Last night I went to bed at 10 p.m. This morning the alarm went off at 7 a.m. I turned it off, and then it was 8:30 a.m.like THAT. And I was still tired when I got up! That is like 10.5 hours of sleep! WTF! Meanwhile, my kids went downstairs and made pancakes while I slept. It's not unusual for them to do so, but the mess they make when they cook without me there never ceases to amaze me.

At any rate, I am procrastinating getting on the bike b/c I am having just a little trouble digesting breakfast, and also, no amount of coffee is making me feel like I have the umph to get the workout done. (It's a long one.)  But yet I really don't feel bad. It is super annoying. It needs to go away.

I'm gearing up for a 1/2 marathon in a few weeks. I feel it is really possible I could PR. But then when I think about PRing I stop myself, afraid that I will be disappointed if I don't. That is stupid and not the way a "winner" thinks. I know this, yet my thinking is automatic. I have not even been thinking about biking and swimming. I have been doing them (though I admit to being somewhat slack about swimming lately) but they just aren't on my mind. Do you ever feel like if you are not thinking (read obsessing) about something then it will slip through your fingers? And I wonder why I am in therapy. That sentence just sounds so WRONG.  I clearly use anxiety and obsession to (ironically) ease the fear that I will fail.

Blah. Lately I am super duper in tune with my psychological ailments. I mean, everyone is psychologically ailing, really. I know this. We all have our shit. But I am just perseverating about MY shit lately. Sometimes doesn't it seem totally impossible to get over, beyond, at peace, WHATEVER with your shit? Especially if your shit gets in the way of important stuff. ek. I know I am being vague. It's like that trap of wanting to talk about something, deciding to do it in a public sphere, and then just being half-assed and circling around but never landing because you can't REALLY say what is on your mind.

I am truly impressed if you are still with me at this point.

In other news. I really like my coach. He is a good, smart egg.

Here are a few tidbits from the Wilson household this fine, Saturday morning.

1. Andy is away with two good friends who are both cops. They are in northern Maine drinking beer and shooting guns and staying in a log cabin without heat. hmmm....

2. Noah, my 7 year old, is walking around naked because he wet his bed last night, stripped himself of his wet PJs, and now feels it's necessary to walk around in the buff with just a fleece blanket wrapped around him.

3. Jordan put orange juice in a glass last night, stuck a knife in it, and froze it. Now she is walking around with a huge orange juice popsicle with a gigantic,rather sharp knife lodged in it. Please do not call DSS on me.

4. Jordan just said, Ummm, mom? Don't you have to get on the bike? Love it when my kids call me on my procrastination.

4. This is the best one of all.
Hazel just took a crap in the house. It was a crap that wasn't really a crap. It was a sock, encrusted with crap. (She must have eaten the sock in the last 36 hours). This sock encrusted crap was attached to another crap by way of a long hair (probably one of mine). Ernie picked up the sock crap and began running around with it, the hair crap flowing behind him as he ran. Hazel chased him and they began to play tug with the crap (remember it was solid because it was really a sock encrusted crap), until I realized what it was they were playing tug with. After a horrified scream, I tried to get the crap out of Ernie's mouth (holding a paper towel in my hand to do it). Hazel grabbed the paper towel as my hand locked on the shit.

And that is my morning. This is my life.

Suffering

No, I am not going to write about suffering. That would be a good blog topic, of course. Suffering versus enduring versus welcoming pain.

But that is too heady for me right now. I am without content recently (read the last few months). I am running on a wheel.

Until recently my running (even if on a wheel) was faster than normal running on a wheel. But the last two days I had SHIT runs. Like they were shitty experiences and also shitty (literally) experiences. I am fighting some sort of a something. I puked up a gel at mile 7 of a run today. And then I had to run home, because I was like... you know, seven miles from home.  So I guess that's suffering... and hence this is about suffering.

Because I am empty of anything riveting to tell you (I have riveting things on my mind but I'm sorry, I don't feel like telling you, unfortunately), I will conform to the blogging trend of using the ABC's to reveal stupid facts about me that you may (or more likely may not) find particularly illuminating. Don't get me wrong... I love these sorts of things ... (ABCs to get to know you etc.)

Here  goes:
Age: 40. ew.
Bed size: King. I have been married over 10 years. Duh.
Chore you dislike: I dislike all chores, especially putting away laundry and cleaning man/boy piss off toilet seats.
Dogs: Oh but of course! Two destructive puppies, Ernie (a Boston Terrier) and Hazel (a yellow lab). I was inspired to get Ernie after I became obsessed with Jesse's Boston, Cooper.
Essential start to your day:  coffee. then more coffee.
Favorite color: green
Gold or silver: silver
Height: 5'2" and 1/4 inch
Instruments you play: piano, trumpet, French Horn. None of them well, and none of them since college
Job title: mother, coach. I still think of myself mostly as a middle school history and English teacher.
Kids: 3. ages 9,7 and 5, girl, boy, girl
Live: Westwood, MA aka totally lacking in any kind of diversity Boston suburb.
Mom's name: Mary Jean
Nickname: Mar. But I hate that nickname so please refrain from calling me that.
Overnight hospital stay: Childbirth. three different (and each very special) c-sections.
Pet peeves: When people say, "you're so good" in reference to my working out. I am good. But not for that reason.
Quote from a movie: Stacy: When a guy has an orgasm, how much comes out? Linda: Oh, about a quart or so. (Fast Times). I know there are better ones out there, but that shot into my head.
Righty or lefty: Righty
Siblings: one older sister (Laura), one younger sister (Christina), and two younger brothers (Jordan and AJ)
Time you wake up: it depends on whether I am working out in the a.m. or not. Either 5:15 a.m. or 7:00 a.m.
Underwear: Hazel likes to eat it, so it must smell really great.
Vegetables you don't like: eggplant, raw tomatoes.
What makes you run late: that would take too long to list....
Xrays you had: teeth, feet, ankles, boobs, uterus, knees
Yummy food you make: I make a mean cake from a mix.
Zoo animal favorites: Polar Bears. Lions. I don't know. Unlike Kim, I like all of them, even their smelliness.

Hope you learned something important about me that will help you discern the content of my character; the depth of my soul.
or something like that.