Will Run for Expensive Jewelry

I'm slowly beginning to tick away my "dream" Marathons...Nashville was up on the list, and next April, I plan on participating in that, with my sights set on other "dream" marathons that may be on the horizon. One that may have just received the bump up to the top is San Francisco. Has anyone ran this race?

The main reason (not the correct reason, but a reason nonetheless) I chose this to be up on my list is the finisher's medal--a Tiffany necklace, handed out by men in Tuxedos...does it get any better, I always thought.

Apparently it does, because I just heard a little rumor that those men in tuxedos are really Firemen in Tuxedos. Firemen in Tuxedos with a Tiffany necklace for me. And I would get to pick which Fireman in a Tuxedo would hand me my Tiffany necklace.

I'm sold. I want to be there.

My next struggle is trying to convince Ted that he wants to be there, as well, but somehow the firemen, tuxedos, and Tiffany necklaces just don't hold the same power and longing for him as they do for me. I have another year or so to try to convince him otherwise.

Savoring this year

As of today, I am entering the last year of my 20's. I have 365 more days before I enter the next age group, and 365 more days to savor the last year of being "young".

I'm not too concerned with being older, though. I don't feel like I need to hold on to my youth in any way, and I don't necessarily think I'm missing out on anything. The main issue with turning 30 next year is entering a new age group in races.

Alot of the local races Ted and I do are small-town races, with 20-50 participants. When the races are like this, the 20-29 age range for females is pretty thin. Most 20-29 year old females in these small towns are either pregnant, raising babies, hung over, still pleased with their youthful figures, or living off in the city. Because of this, I end up on the awards stage at alot of the races--with the only effort being that I managed to roll out of bed and show up.

The next age group up, however, is much more tough and competitive. I see alot of these women who could beat me to a pulp. They are strong, they are fast, and they are good runners.
And they intimidate me. And next year I'll be up against them, and I'll have to work hard if I want to earn a place on the awards stage at races again.

But I have a year for that. I loved my cake Ted got me---even though Giant referred to the cake as a "jogger"....

The Numbers Game

I used to think high school teachers were just there to teach us a particular subject, and they were paid to promote their subject of choice. The English teachers used to say how wonderful reading is. Music teachers used modern music to prove their point that all music, at its basic, simplest form, is the same, whether it be Rap or R&B or Country or Classical. And my math teachers always threatened that math was everywhere.

I quickly decided to send my life in an opposite direction, hoping to avoid numbers as much as possible.

But , alas, they were right. Reading is wonderful. All music does stem from a basic beat. And, much to by dismay, numbers and math are everywhere.

I deal with numbers for a living--in marketing, there are P&Ls, gains and losses, ratios of success, comparisons, and so many possible formulas that I’m beginning to think Microsoft Excel was built around marketing specifically.

I still don’t like numbers that much. And they creep into parts of my life I do like and enjoy and kill any creativity or imagination. My sewing is based on yards of fabric. Cooking is based on fractions. Knitting is counting stitches and measuring pieces. And running is kilometers to mileage, heart rates, timing systems, caloric intake, energy spent, so on and et cetera.

The biggest number game with running that confuses me and frustrates me is that complicated formula that deals with how many calories I take in versus how many calories I burn from exercise versus how many calories I burn just my existing equals how much weight I lose/gain.

And I never seem to get the formula right.

I am not fat. I don’t claim to be, nor do I honestly look in the mirror and think such thoughts. I would like to be toner. I would like to be slimmer. I would like to run faster and I would like to be lighter. As it is, people are generally shocked when they do hear what I weigh and how I look. I understand that muscle weighs more, and as an active runner/gym attendee, I shouldn’t focus so much on the numbers on the scale and more on how my clothes fit. As a number hater, I would think I would welcome that idea.

But I can’t help but wonder how I can help my body reach is optimal performance peak. How can I find my truly ideal body weight--you know, that amazing point where you are what you are, you eat healthy, you aren’t chewing your fist off by 4:00, but you aren’t putting weight on. You are running your best, you feel great, and you look amazing. How many calories do I need--I don’t want to eat so many I gain weight, but I also don’t want to dip to where I have no energy, I’m dying for the next meal, and my body so much as looks at a piece of toast and hides it away for the rainy day it thinks is coming.

I tend to obsess with calorie counting. This cereal is this many calories, versus this many in the egg whites. I ran over four miles, so I get this cereal for breakfast because it has more calories. I’ve tried the basic, simple plan of this is the weight I want to weigh, this is how many calories I need, and this is my lifestyle and Bam! That should work. I should magically be happy and satisfied and get to the ideal weight, right? Well, it doesn’t seem quite so easy.

Maybe someday I’ll reach that magical plateau…that place mentioned above where I am in complete and total control and diet and nutrition are such a second nature that I can go back to the creativity and imagination I really love, and get away from this numbers thing.

An entirely new sensation...

Because I find posting pictures on this thing as difficult as running after my favorite dippie egg breakfast, I'm going to stop attempting to organize the pictures more clearly. The top picture is the bike winner (you'll learn more about that at the bottom of the post). The picture to the right is our group AFTER the duathlon, and obviously after the rain starting (I don't think you can tell it's still raining buckets here...we just don't care). The picture below is Angela and I before the race...and the rain...


There are many things one can do leading up to the arrival of hurricane remnants. Some people rent movies and hunker down in their cozy homes, spending the afternoon with a bowl of popcorn. Others set out to spend the afternoon in malls or movie theaters.

Ted and I and Pete and Angela, our college roommates (she was my roommate at Temple, he was Ted's roommate at Drexel...which is how me met...all together now "Aw!") decided to welcome Hanna by participating in a duathlon up in northern Lehigh Valley. The duathlon consisted of a 2-mile run/8-mile bike/2-mile run. None of which were intimidating on their own.

Starting out, the weather was dry, but humid. It started to rain about a quarter into the first leg. By the time we reached the transition area (which humbly consisted of bikes tossed everywhere...we didn't need racks), the rain was strong and heavy. The bike was a 4-mile out-and-back on a rails-to-trails trail. Pete had pulled ahead of us during the run--Angela had fallen behind. Even so, we kept our eyes on Pete the entire time and Angela, who I think is the biker of the group, caught up to us pretty easily. The crowd was small, so for the final 4 miles of the bike race were just us, gathered in a group, laughing, dripping, and passing each other. We fed off each other's competitiveness and if one pulled ahead, the others hurried to catch up.

But the real fun began when we started the third leg.

I have never competed in an event like this. And I had absolutely no idea what my legs would feel like after climbing off the bike, and running. And I still can't describe it.

It was just the strangest, oddest feeling. I felt like I should be running through water, or with weights on my ankles, or that when Ted spoke, his voice should sound low and slow, as if in a dream. What surprised me even more was the time in the last leg was the same time as in the first leg--so I wasn't running nearly as slow as I thought I was. But wow--what a sensation whatsoever.

We braved the rain and wind to stick around for the awards ceremony, where I claimed 3rd in my age group and walked home with a glass mug.

Ted and I came home, and hurried up through town for the big bike race. I complained slightly about biking 8 miles in a hurricane; these guys rode 100 miles in a hurricane. The speed and talent of professional bike racers amazes me, and this annual event in our little town is one of the highlights of the year. (See picture above...the finish of the race was around 2:30 or 3:00...middle of the day...it was rough weather)

How long will this one take...

I'm very excited that next April, Ted and I will be sporting our cowboy hats and boots (well, I'll be sporting the hat and boots, Ted will remain amused by it all) and landing in Nashville for the Country Music Marathon.

I'm thrilled beyond explanation about this. I have wanted to do this race for quite some time. My only concern is meeting the 7-hour time limit to finish the race...not because I don't think we can do it, but with music at every mile, as well as the CMT music mile, I'm afraid I'll be stopping every mile and listening to the music.

Training begins in January, and I'm looking forward to sharing every story as we travel down this road again!