10K: Do I Dare?

I dressed for running as soon as I woke up. I had to before I could talk myself out of it.

So off I went. After about two miles I got the same lower back pain from the race on Saturday. I fixed my posture and the pain went away.

During the race, I noticed that I passed the walkers but was running in queue with the stop-starters, the people who would quickly run by me but who I would eventually pass because they slowed down to a walk. I sought advice from one of the best runners I know. Yes, I got advice from my husband.

This mofo will get his feelings hurt when he has to pay a whole twenty bucks for shoes from Payless Shoe Source. He will say that those shoes “aren’t too bad” because they make his feet bleed for only a week.

Only a week.

Yet in those shoes, he would lap Marines around the track and he would keep up with SEALs young enough to be our kids. And I know that even though he can’t do these things now, I know that one day he will.

He told me about FARTLEKS, alternating running and sprinting. Those, he said, will improve my time.

Um… yeah. No, I’m gonna work on my distance for now, thankyouverymuch.

I did three and a half miles this morning. Tomorrow I mapped out a different route, one that will take me four and a half miles.

My new minimum distance will be three miles per run. My new running schedule will be four days a week, squeezing in Zumba or Hot Hula class whenever I can.

I want to run a 10K. I want to do it in September and again in November. I saw this on Pinterest.

There. That’s where I’m going and that’s what I’m gonna get next year. Come with me?

The Ignition Failure

Ever have one of those days?

This weekend I got a call from my bank and it seems that my card info has been compromised. A new card is on its way. No biggie and I am actually thankful that my bank caught that.

The last time our card info was stolen we were in DC… right after R’s accident. Someone had my card number and tried to buy two hundred dollars worth of groceries at Publix! What the heck? That was a fun time, explaining our new card activity up in DC and why I couldn’t be at home in California to get the new card through the mail.

Everything was sorted out in the end. I wasn’t angry per se, just tired.

This morning the car wouldn’t start.

Nope. Not a peep.

Alright, so I have noticed in the past week the car sometimes had a bit of a cough when I started it. And maybe I am about a month or two behind on the regular oil checks.

Gosh, it could have been so much worse. I could have been driving on the freeway with the kids or stranded far from anyone we knew. Thank goodness it gave up overnight in our own garage.

I just shelled out sixty bucks to have my car towed to a cheap and reliable place a few miles away. That’s nice.

Oh well. What can you do? Nothing, really. Who can you blame? No one, really.

Really.

The car is almost a decade old and it has seen us across the country, through three different bases, through three carseats piled up in the back seat. I have made sure to take care of it so that the youngest will ask to borrow it when she’s old enough to drive.

Hang in there another decade, will ya?

I had to go to the bank to withdraw money for the tow. I could have walked the half mile to my bank but used my mom’s car instead. I was too flustered by this point. I am one of those crazies who talks to everyone so it was no surprise when I found myself telling my story to the teller who said, “When it rains, it pours.”

I said, “But still, you know what? I’m alive and I can’t complain.”

I forget how much that phrase “I’m alive” means to me, how much power it holds. The first voice message I got from R after the accident starts off with those two words. “I’m alive, I’m fine, and I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

I try to save that message whenever I can, whenever I remember to. Just before my race on Saturday, it popped up and I heard it again for the bazillionth time. After the message, I heard, “To save the message, press 2.”

And I pressed 2.