Every year at Thanksgiving we go around the table and say what we are thankful for. The one rule is that we all assume that we are thankful for our health and for being together, so we try to think of different things to name; those are a given.
As always, I am thankful for so much. And yes, my health (and my loved ones' health) is at the top of the list. Here's a partial list. There's no way I could list all the blessings I've been given.
I am thankful for:
- The fact that the most wonderful, selfless, giving man I've ever met decided he wanted to be with me. Me! Of all people. I can't ever express how thankful I am to have him in my life.
- His safe trip east in September.
- The people that took him in along his way and gave him shelter, a good meal, a safe place to sleep, and their friendship. You know who you are. I am forever indebted to all of you.
- My wonderful family. I consider my mother and brother to be my best friends. How many people can say that?
- The fact that a kooky, mismatched, much larger than expected group of people is descending on my house for dinner tomorrow. There aren't enough seats for everyone, and there certainly isn't room at the dining room table, but we'll make it work. I am so thankful that people feel welcome in my home and want to be there.
- My pets. They entertain me every day and make me smile.
- My job. How lucky am I to have a boss I admire and respect, a job I am capable of doing well, and coworkers I adore?
- The healing that has taken place in my family this year. The hurts are still there, but we are all working hard to move forward instead of backward. SC, I know you read this blog. I love you like a sister. Never forget that.
- My friends! Where would I be without my friends?? Old and new, male and female, I have the absolute best group of friends in the world.
- My friendship with IronEx. There will always be a special place in my heart for him. I wish him only the very best in everything he does, and I'm grateful that we have remained friends.
- This will sound silly, but I'm thankful for the Philadelphia Flyers. They have given me great joy (and great heartache) for more than 35 years of my life.
- Related to that, I'm very thankful that I finally took the plunge and purchased a season ticket plan this year. What took me so long?
- My ability to run, bike, swim, dance, walk, jump, teach classes, and have fun doing all of it (most of the time).
- My house and everything in it. Sounds obvious, but there are so many people who have so little. I have been given much.
There is so much more to list. I am humbled by all that I have and truly appreciate all of it.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Front row, baby!
My dear friend Samme gave me tickets to the Flyers game Saturday... in the front row right behind the visitors' bench! I've sat that close before (lucky girl that I am!), but this time I really appreciated the players' athleticism and speed. From farther up in the stadium, or from the comfort of home watching on tv, you really have no perception of just how fast the game really moves.
It was pure awesomeness.
Here are two pictures taken with our phones. My phone doesn't zoom at all, and the picture is still so close and clear.
Dave took this action shot with his phone.
I love this game.
THANK YOU, SAMME!!
It was pure awesomeness.
Here are two pictures taken with our phones. My phone doesn't zoom at all, and the picture is still so close and clear.
Dave took this action shot with his phone.
I love this game.
THANK YOU, SAMME!!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
For the dog lovers out there
I received this in an email. It was not the first time I've read it, nor was it the first time I cried while reading it. Hope you enjoy.
A Dog's Purpose
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.
He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?"
The six year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
Things we can learn from dogs
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you're not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!
A Dog's Purpose
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.
He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?"
The six year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
Things we can learn from dogs
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you're not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Wow. I really needed to see this this week.
"Running is a big question mark that's there each and every day. It asks you, 'Are you going to be a wimp, or are you going to be strong today?'" ~ Peter Maher, two-time Olympic marathoner
Monday, November 1, 2010
So what went wrong?
After a disappointing triathlon season, I decided to train for (OK, cram for! Jill was right) a 10K yesterday. It was on the Riverfront and consisted of a much flatter and easier course than any other 10K I've ever done, so I thought a new PR would be a breeze. My current 10K PR was set in 2006... so it's time I break it.
My original goal was to PR, but my real goal was to break 50 minutes for the first time. That would mean a 46 second PR on an easier course. Should have been no problem.
With only five weeks until race day, I hired Iron Ex, the most talented coach I know -- and frankly the only person I trust to train me. With his help while we were together, I'd PRed at pretty much everything I tried, so I knew he would be tough but effective. I went from 2-3 runs per week (10-12 miles max) all spring and summer to 5-6 runs per week (20-27 miles). I did speedwork, hills, tempo runs, and long(er) runs (7-8 miles) on the weekends. I thought my legs would fall off, and I dreamed up new curse words to call him on the track pretty regularly, but I did it.
Saturday night D and I had Flyers tickets. Thinking I was being so smart, I ate before the game to avoid eating crap at the game. Unfortunately, I didn't eat again, except for some Twizzlers, for the rest of the night Saturday. In hindsight, I should have had something before going to bed.
Sunday morning, I had some cereal and a banana, and I made a mental note to make my traditional pre-race peanut butter sandwich for the car.
And then I forgot all about the sandwich.
Those errors killed me. Not enough food on Saturday, no food LATE on Saturday, and not nearly enough Sunday morning before the race. I started out feeling strong and confident, hitting my watch at 7:54 at the one mile marker. A bit too fast -- I needed to run 8s the whole race to break 50 minutes -- but I felt good. It didn't feel too fast. I knew I'd slow down a bit, and I was happy to have those extra precious seconds in the bank, as my friend Chris would say.
Mile 2 had the only significant hill. I knew I'd slowed down a little bit, but again I was OK with it. Until I hit my watch at the mile 2 marker and saw a big 8:25 taunting me. WTF??
I tried to pick it up during mile 3, but the turnaround was about a quarter mile into this mile and the tailwind I never even knew was aiding me turned into a really awful headwind. Everyone at this point was complaining about it. Oh well, nothing we can do about it. I think mile 3 was 8:14. Better, but still not good enough.
During mile 4 we ran next to the river and had to battle a pretty significant crosswind. Note: crosswinds are almost as hard as headwinds. I think mile 4 was 8:15, but I'm not 100% sure. It was a struggle to maintain that pace, and I knew I couldn't go any faster.
By mile 5 I knew I wasn't going to break 50 minutes or PR. I knew I'd blown it. My legs weighed about 80 pounds each at this point. I had no energy. I was mentally shutting down. I desperately looked for D and Shaggy along the course, telling myself I would stop to pet Shaggy for 10 seconds and get a second wind (no pun intended). I never did find them, and that was devastating. I so desperately wanted to stop, even for a second. Nearly in tears, I hit my watch at 8:24 for mile 5.
And then in mile 6, it all fell apart. I stopped even trying. I think you could best call what I was doing a shuffle. My legs were done, my brain was done, and I wanted to just walk off the course and never run again. Mile 6 was 9 freaking 05.
I don't even know what the final 2/10ths were. And I don't care. By my watch, my final time was 52:21. Two and a half minutes over my goal.
I don't know if I can do this any more. It hasn't been fun in a long, long time. I hate to finish this way, but I hate even more the thought of putting in the effort for nothing.
I think my bad attitude and I need some time to figure this out.
My original goal was to PR, but my real goal was to break 50 minutes for the first time. That would mean a 46 second PR on an easier course. Should have been no problem.
With only five weeks until race day, I hired Iron Ex, the most talented coach I know -- and frankly the only person I trust to train me. With his help while we were together, I'd PRed at pretty much everything I tried, so I knew he would be tough but effective. I went from 2-3 runs per week (10-12 miles max) all spring and summer to 5-6 runs per week (20-27 miles). I did speedwork, hills, tempo runs, and long(er) runs (7-8 miles) on the weekends. I thought my legs would fall off, and I dreamed up new curse words to call him on the track pretty regularly, but I did it.
Saturday night D and I had Flyers tickets. Thinking I was being so smart, I ate before the game to avoid eating crap at the game. Unfortunately, I didn't eat again, except for some Twizzlers, for the rest of the night Saturday. In hindsight, I should have had something before going to bed.
Sunday morning, I had some cereal and a banana, and I made a mental note to make my traditional pre-race peanut butter sandwich for the car.
And then I forgot all about the sandwich.
Those errors killed me. Not enough food on Saturday, no food LATE on Saturday, and not nearly enough Sunday morning before the race. I started out feeling strong and confident, hitting my watch at 7:54 at the one mile marker. A bit too fast -- I needed to run 8s the whole race to break 50 minutes -- but I felt good. It didn't feel too fast. I knew I'd slow down a bit, and I was happy to have those extra precious seconds in the bank, as my friend Chris would say.
Mile 2 had the only significant hill. I knew I'd slowed down a little bit, but again I was OK with it. Until I hit my watch at the mile 2 marker and saw a big 8:25 taunting me. WTF??
I tried to pick it up during mile 3, but the turnaround was about a quarter mile into this mile and the tailwind I never even knew was aiding me turned into a really awful headwind. Everyone at this point was complaining about it. Oh well, nothing we can do about it. I think mile 3 was 8:14. Better, but still not good enough.
During mile 4 we ran next to the river and had to battle a pretty significant crosswind. Note: crosswinds are almost as hard as headwinds. I think mile 4 was 8:15, but I'm not 100% sure. It was a struggle to maintain that pace, and I knew I couldn't go any faster.
By mile 5 I knew I wasn't going to break 50 minutes or PR. I knew I'd blown it. My legs weighed about 80 pounds each at this point. I had no energy. I was mentally shutting down. I desperately looked for D and Shaggy along the course, telling myself I would stop to pet Shaggy for 10 seconds and get a second wind (no pun intended). I never did find them, and that was devastating. I so desperately wanted to stop, even for a second. Nearly in tears, I hit my watch at 8:24 for mile 5.
And then in mile 6, it all fell apart. I stopped even trying. I think you could best call what I was doing a shuffle. My legs were done, my brain was done, and I wanted to just walk off the course and never run again. Mile 6 was 9 freaking 05.
I don't even know what the final 2/10ths were. And I don't care. By my watch, my final time was 52:21. Two and a half minutes over my goal.
I don't know if I can do this any more. It hasn't been fun in a long, long time. I hate to finish this way, but I hate even more the thought of putting in the effort for nothing.
I think my bad attitude and I need some time to figure this out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)