Nat's Divine Comedy Marathon: The 2009 Twisted Ankle Race Report

Saturday I ran my 10th marathon. My first trail marathon. Wait, my first trail race ever.
The Twisted Ankle Marathon and it was 10 times harder than all my other marathons put together.

I have long said one of my favorite things about the marathon is the epic-ness of it. However, I found out on Saturday--as I ran for hours through gnarly trail and over twisted root and up billy goat hills and down gravely fire roads that I really had no idea what epic really meant until then. But rest assured that now when I speak of the "epic-ness" of a marathon, I do know that of which I speak.

Because this race?
This marathon is no joke.
Those other 9 marathons-- I realized after I surpassed the point in time in which I had finished all those other marathons and still had several miles to go that those other 9 marathons that I've run?
Yeah, they were a joke.

For those unfamiliar with the race here is the elevation map:

I have to say I completely underestimated that little chart. I've looked at it about 100 times since I signed up in March and I think I forgot to really look at it in it's entirety. I was so focused on that humongous hill in the first 5 miles that I didn't really think much about the rest of the course. In fact, if you want to know exactly what I thought--what I have been reassuring myself with for the past few weeks was this: If I can just make it over that big hill with out dying (without my calves locking up) the rest will be easy.
Really.
That is what I thought.

I don't know why I thought that because I can see now (and I sure felt) that climb at miles 9-10 is pretty steep --and let me tell you, even worse than that was that climb at 19-20. But even more challenging than all of that was the steep downhill from 22-25. Wow. That was a HUGE shocker. I really really thought that part as going to be easy. I even looked forward to it the whole race thinking I was going to get to run down that big hill. It was going to be SO MUCH FUN! I had my airplane arms all ready and imagined myself whizzing down yelling Weeeee!!!!! My dream of a downhill at the end of a marathon finally being realized.

Really.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why would I think that?

The saying " You can't fix stupid" keeps popping in my head but seriously, send stupid out on that course and they will be fixed for sure.

What is bad about this elevation chart is that it doesn't show the roots, mud, rocks and switchbacks. You know, when I look at it I just see lines and in my mind I just imagined smooth dirt trails with finely crushed gravel. I know--dumb, but like I said that dumb got fixed on Saturday.

Since this was my first trail marathon, first race on a trail, and since I have seen some really great marathons recently I went in-- with what I thought was at least--relatively low expectations and goals ( I always set 3 goals and a super secret goal but there was no super secret goal for this race):

1. To not die (and by not die I also meant not break anything or injury myself so I couldn't keep training.)
2. To finish
3. Finish in under 5 hours.

Before I signed up I emailed Becky Finger, the race director, and asked her what I could expect as a finishing time. She said most people add about 45 minutes onto their road times. I figured she was probably low balling that since I am sure she wants people to sign up for her race so I added an hour onto my slowest marathon. Which is 4:08 (so I had an extra 8 minutes but I just couldn't fathom actually committing to running over 5 hours. That's just crazy.)

Most of my anxiety for this race revolved around that 5 hour window. When it comes to goals there are no guarantees. I certainly know I can run 26 miles on the road but I honestly didn't know if I could run for 5 hours or run 26 miles in the woods. I have only run over 4 hours twice in my life: The Atlanta Marathon, my first marathon in November 2005 that I finished in 4:08 and the training run I did at the end of Oct 2005 that was 25.5 miles and took me almost 4 and half hours. Even though that was 4 years ago I still recall the mental agony of those last miles. I remember just wanting to be done; being over it and not only sick of running but sick of being with myself. So I was worried. 5 hours is a long time for anyone to have to put up with me--even me.

I appreciate if you have read this far so I am going to cut to the chase and spare you the suspense if you came here just looking to see how I did and don't want to wade through my epic discourse to find out:

1. I did not die (but I did think for certain I was going to)
2. I did finish
3. I finished in under 5 hours (but barely) 4:58:50
4. I was 24th over all (Not sure how many ran the full. The race sold out at 175 but I know people dropped out and I am sure some didn't even show up.)
5. I was 5th woman and 2nd in my age group.
6. I completely had my ass kicked.

Onto the epic discourse:

Friday I dropped the kids at my in-law's around 6. I came home, got everything in order, made dinner and was in bed around 9. Ryan stayed up and packed the car with stuff to entertain himself with while his crazy wife went and ran in the woods for half the day--fishing pole, mountain bike, estimates, laptop etc. He then slept in one of the kid's rooms because he "didn't want to get blamed for anything."

I got up at 5 am on Saturday and had my regular race breakfast of water, coffee, whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and salt and small bowl of Uncle Sam's cereal. Then I packed a cooler with lots of beer, made some turkey sandwiches and threw in some snacks. I showered and dressed and then woke Ryan and finished putting stuff in the car while he got ready. We realized last minute that we would have to take Lola since we would be gone too long to humanely leave her in her crate all day. I hoped it was okay to bring dogs to the race. And I will admit, I did wish it was cooler day because I thought about how awesome it would be to have her run the race with me. I could take her pinch collar off and she would totally drag me up all those hills. But as it was, it was 6:30 am, already 70 degrees and about 85% humidity. Don't think my snow dog would appreciate a 26 mile run in those conditions and it would be I who would be dragging her dead weight.

We got about 5 miles down the road and I realized I forgot my purse. Ryan said he was just glad it wasn't him that "f-d up." The way he talks sometimes you'd think I beat him ( I do.)

So 6:45 we were finally on the way and I was anxious about being late. Mapquest said it as an hour 40 minute drive. I needed to get my packet by 8:30.

Here I am as we drive up 75 to Summerville, Georgia.
I am happy because I see blue sky and it is not raining.

As it was we got to the park around 8 am and that was even after stopping to pee at a gas station outside the park.
As we turned in the park Ryan pointed up to the mountain ridge and commented that was probably where I would be running. I told him to shush; it was all going to be a surprise and he was not to ruin it for me. Even still I stared out the car window at the ridge covered in clouds and hoped that those were not rain clouds. Here is picture of the ridge I took out the car window leaving after the race:
I'll admit. It doesn't look all that hard from my car window. But trust me. There are evil sticks and roots and rocks and mud behind those pretty green trees.

Ryan dropped me at the packet pick up and I ran down the hill to get my number. I saw Doug (Steph's husband) and when I asked for my small shirt he looked at me and said "Are you sure?" I think he was calling me fat but it does fit. I am just a small chubby person.

By the way, it was Doug's idea to sign up for this race. I should, in the future, think more carefully when the Bachman's ask if I want to do stuff with them: Hey Nat! Wanna do a half ironman (even though you've only ever done a sprint?) Sure! How hard can it be?
Hey Nat! Wanna run a trail marathon? Okay!

I think in the 5k swim at the end of June I might have to pull Steph under and drown her since I seem to have problems with good sense and can't seem to say no. It all sounds like so much fun when I am drinking the Bachman home brew. . .

Ryan and I went and parked the car. I pinned my number on and stuffed my pockets with the 8 bazillion things I brought: 4 gu's, packet of endurolytes, pocket knife, toilet paper, throw away camera. Ryan had suggested the night before I might want to use his camel back. I have never used one but it did sound like a better idea than having to carry a bottle. Though my plan was not to fall I realized it might happen and I might want both my hands to prevent a face plant. I had jogged around the driveway before getting in the car to test it out and seemed fine.

Such as it was it proved to NOT be such a great idea after all.

This is only one (and the worst) of the abrasions I got from said camel back. 2 days post race and it is the only thing that still really hurts (I am pain wimp.)
I will say it did not bother me during the race but I also did not really use the camel back as I found it hard to drink from so I definitely would have been better off without it.

I also got this nice abrasion from my throw away camera. That one did hurt a lot by the end but it one of many hurts so what did it matter.

And a blister on my toe. Ryan did not want me to post this picture. My feet embarass him. But I personally am pretty thankful for my feet even if they are ugly. They have taken me many awesome places.
Even though I got a blister (my first from a race) the shoes were really great and I am so glad I wore trail shoes rather than my Trance's.

After I was all suited up we walked over to the start area (also finish. We get to run over that bridge for the finish). I peed 3 times in the 30 minutes before the race and then --because it was so hot/humid I did not need to use the restroom again until after 5pm. I was, just a little dehydrated.

Before the race I met and chatted with lots of nice runners. One guy in particular--with a handle bar mustache I had actually met the day before at the gas station by my house. I at first I couldn't place him and then it dawned on me he was the guy who had asked me if I was in the Atlanta Track club and if I ran for the competitive team (definitely do not. Not fast enough). So it was funny to run into him.

Then we gathered for a brief pre race meeting. Becky gave some directions--which of course I wasn't really paying attention but I did hear something about if you are not at the 14 mile point by 4 something hours to please come down off the ridge. Dear Lord, I thought, 4 hours for 14 miles. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Then she said something about lots of mud and everyone around me cheered. I personally didn't see this as good news--as I did not really want to get dirty--and wasn't sure if this was sarcastic joy or they were seriously happy about the prospect of mud. I think they were serious.

And then Becky said go and I hit my watch and we were off and running.


Number 18 is a guy named Ty. Super nice guy! I caught him around 5-6 miles. He tried to make me go the wrong way (just kidding Ty). We leap-frogged and chatted from about 5-12 miles. I tried to push my Gu and endurolytes on him when he said he was cramping after we ran up the hill at mile 9/10. He wouldn't take them. I was like the Cigar girl of this race offering up all the stuff I carried: Gu? Salt tab? Water? Probably should have taken more of stuff rather than tried to give it all away.



I had been advised by a reader of my training log at Beginner Triathlete "to try to get to the front of the pack before the big hill since because of the rain and mud it would be trashed after the front of the pack went over it."

Sounded like a plan to me. I figured since the first mile or 2 was on road I could go out at the pace I have started out at for my last 3 marathons and manage okay. Now whether or not I was running my 7:20-8 min pace I have no idea since it was 30-50 degrees warmer than my last 3 marathons and infinitely more humid. But it felt like I was running 7:30's. Could have been 10's though. I seriously don't know. There are no mile markers and I don't wear a Garmin anymore.

On the other side of my shoulder in the picture is the girl who ended up coming in second. I tailed her for the first 9 or so miles before she (and 3rd place girl) dropped me. I had to remind myself many times to NOT be competitive today or I would be very sorry. It was hard to keep that in check at first but then later the ass kicking I recieved put me easily in my place.
As is usual I was very confused about the course and just sort of running along, not fully paying attention. But I think this is right before we head into the woods to the big evil hill. I remember this point at the end too because I was pretty mad that this was NOT the lake with bridge. I knew once I saw the bridge I would be done and I was so mad that this lake did not have the bridge.

Right after I took this picture I decide I better take an endorolyte. I hadn't been running long but already I was completely soaked with sweat. Several times during the race I would think it was raining only to realize it was the copious amounts of sweat coming off my hat and not rain drops. It was so disgusting.

Starting up the big hill. Everyone ahead of me was walking. So I started walking, remembering what someone else (I can't remember who) had told me to do: to run as the terrain allows.

Getting steeper. And I am laughing--to myself--because I am listening to The Pogues marching song. Seemed really fitting.

Then I come up on a Flamingo. It makes me laugh because I remembered the Saturday before at the baby shower we had for Fishstick(it was a luau) and the kids had went on a flamingo killing spree. I am betting a lot of people in the race wanted to go a flamingo killing spree at that point--if they had the energy. It also made me think of Aunt Boo who calls them "pink ducks." I don't know. Aunt Boo just makes me laugh. And if you are walking up the steepest hill that is giving you flashbacks of the switchbacks your dad made you hike up at 9 years old with a 25lb pack and can still laugh-- I think it is a good sign. My run happy attitude was still intact!

And even better the hill was over!

I took the above picture, grabbed some Gatorade at the top and toasted a fellow marathoner who had a WTF just happened look on his face and then after a moment I took off happily down the hill. I was a little disappointed how short the downhill was considering how freaking long the uphill had just been. Whatever.

I turned on the gravel road that while you can't see it in this picture had tons of the Georgia red clay. I was not happy about the red clay as I did not want to have it all over me. But it wasn't issue.
I read that other people didn't like this section and I will admit that it is a bit boring but I found I could run my regular marathon pace here and that made me happy.I passed quite a few people in this section. I was coming up on 50 minutes so I went ahead and had my first Gu (Berry Roctane. Thanks Steph!) I came up on a aid station. I was kind of surprised because I thought I had heard Becky say the aid stations were 4-8 miles apart and already this was the 3rd one and I figured I had to be around 6-7 miles. I stopped and chatted with the firemen and had some water (there was no Gatorade).

I stopped at every aid station and probably wasted too much time but I as trying to force myself to take it easy. In the beginning the stopping and dilly dallying at the aid stations was by design but by the end it was out of necessity and hope that maybe those people manning the aid stations would see that clearly I was only seconds from death and put me out of misery.

At the fireman aid station we were suppose to turn off down the hill but I saw Ty run ahead down the gravel road so I followed. The firemen called us back and we got going the correct way. We were now on a technical trail that was predominately downhill.

It was so fabulous and I blazed down it. Totally out of control. I passed a blow up monkey and bobbed at it--again laughing because I had had the same blow up monkey's at the luau. Hello Dollar Store!

I was almost to the bottom when people started coming back up the trail towards me and I realized that I was going to have run back up this fabulous downhill. I was not happy. So when I got to the aid station at the bottom I lingered longer than I should have; trying to put off the inevitable. I also figured out that I was 3rd place girl. Just as I realized this 4th place girl popped out of the woods. Hmmm, guess I better go.

I ran for a bit and then I could feel my calves fatiguing. I figured I better walk since I still had a long way to go. Didn't think it as such a good sign that my calves felt at mile 10ish how they usually feel at mile 25 of a marathon. Did not bode well. So I walked.

4th place girl (who ended up being 3rd) caught up to me and we walked together a bit and chatted. After bit she said "well I'm sure I'll see you again." I told her not likely and I wished her luck and she ran on.

I did the walk/run shuffle. I realized at this point that I was completely under-trained for this type of course. While I knew it would be hard and I had mentally prepared myself for it I had assumed that physically I would manage just fine. I pretty much decided then that I would run all flat and down hill sections and walk any uphills as soon as felt my calves tightening up. It was hard to let placement go but really, there was nothing I could do about it. Every time someone passed me --for the rest of the day-- I had to mentally remind myself that I was NOT competitive. I tried hard to stay positive and cheer and encourage people on as I had my ass handed to me.

After I made it up the technical trail I was back on the gravel road and at the fireman aid station again. I chatted with them and then ran on. I saw Ty again here--he was having some cramping and I comiserated with him but then felt better so I ran on.

The course then turns back on the ridge and you head out the way you came towards the other end of the ridge. I was by myself for this. I had another Gu and was kind of freaked out to be so alone. Finially I saw people come back towards me. I realized it was the half marathoners and I had some uncertainity that maybe I had missed a turn. I guessed I was around 15 miles but really could have been 14. I just kept running, not entirely confident, periodically looking behind me for someone and there was never anyone there.

Finally I came up on an aid station and they told me it was 14 miles and that made me sad because it had seemed like forever and then they told me 18 miles was the next one. This really didn't sound right but I was in no poistion to argue with them.

So I ran on more and I came to another gravel road. I was starting to feel pretty tired but was feeling better about things since I had started to see some marathoners again going back out so I knew I was going the right way. Most people looked to be starting to struggle so that also made me feel better that it wasn't just me.

Right before the 18 mile aid station--where there was promises of watermelon--I came up on a guy who was walking. I slowed down and walked with him, offering him a Gu, a salt tab, some water. He took the tab. I decided I should maybe try to have another Gu. I managed half. He was on the walk the up hills/run the downhills and flats plan too so I hung with him. But boy his run the flats part pace was faster than mine was so it was a challenge to keep up with him.

We got to the aid station and I had a watermelon which almost instantly I regretted. I had two cups of water and we ran on. My tummy started to rebel and I was not having a good moment. Then I rolled my right ankle. It took my breath away and made me feel like was going to throw up when I already felt like I was going to throw up.

Around this point the girl who was in 5th came up on us. She asked what mile we were at and we guessed 19 maybe 20. I had a sad moment and reminded myself that there was nothing I could do about it and watched as she surged ahead.

After walking for a few minutes my ankle felt better and I tried to run. My calf started to spasm. Not wanting to stop I turned around backwards and walked up the hill that way. Jack tried it too. I guess it didn't help him as it did me because he turned back around.

While walking backwards I saw Doug coming up the hill. We waved to each other. I was both happy and unhappy to see him. Happy because I had reached the point of the race that I suddenly needed someone to hold my hand and tell me it was going to be okay. I was unhappy because I knew Doug was neither going to hold my hand nor tell me it was going to be okay--it just isn't his style-- and even worse, I knew that he was going to beat me. So I had a negative moment. I feel bad about it.

Right before we reached the top of the hill and turned back on the ridge trail I think someone must have pulled me into the woods and beaten the shit out of me because suddenly every part of my body was cramping up with charlie horses and I was severely uncoordinated. I swear it was like someone had drugged me. It went off like a switch. I guess that is what is known has hitting the wall and I have to say I have never experienced anything like it and hope to never again.

I don't remember reaching the top of the hill and turning on the trail but I remember being on the trail and Doug passing me and saying "Nat, get ready for the longest 10k of your life." I mumbled something about problems and he said he had problems too. Such tough love!!!

I don't know what happened to Jack but I didn't see him again till after the race was over.

I tried to pull myself together and decided maybe I should take a second endurolyte. I did that and I finished off my third Gu. I think it was just too late at this point. I tried hard to stay with Doug; run when he ran, walked when he walked but my legs were being very uncooperative. I was having charlie horses in both calves and my groin almost simultaneously and I kept rolling my right ankle. I was even having cramping in my face.

We came up on an aid station and I stopped. Doug didn't and I watched him fade into the woods out of my sight.

I downed 2 cups of Gatorade and hoped for the best. I still had another Gu (I had had 3) but my stomach was saying NO WAY. When the ladies at the aid stations offered me a peanutbutter sandwiches I almost vomited. Nope. No food for me.

I "ran" on.

After awhile I was alone again--no one in front of me and no one behind me. I was sooo sad and then I tripped over a rock, almost fell, rolled my ankle for what must have been the 5th time and had the stupid charlie horse cramps all over my body.

I completely lost my shit.

I ripped my headphones out of my ears and started crying.

Totally ridiculous.

I standing in the middle of trail blubbering and cussing about how I had run all this way and I was going to break my ankle and not be able to wear my cute high heels and I wouldn't be able to dance at Donald and Annie's wedding next weekend and I would have to hobble around the French Quarter on crutches and in comfortable shoes. I was so mad!

Then I had the suck up buttercup conversation and told myself I had no choice but to run on: eventually it will all be over, I told myself. Eventually . . .

I put my headphones back in my ears, turned on my ipod and I looked at my watch. It past the 4 hour mark. You will be done by 5 hours I told myself and I started "running" again.

Now I really didn't know that I would be done by the 5 hour mark since I had no idea where I was on the trail nor how much further I had to go. I was just trying to be positive. I told myself I could look at my watch every ten minutes. I figured every 10 minutes I would have covered almost a mile. That would be progress, I figured. Forward progression! Go!

My watch said 4:16 when I started running. After about 3 charlie horses, a stumble and an ankle twist I figured it had been about 10 minutes so I checked my watch: 4:18.

And there was Jimmy Buffet singing in my ear: With all of our running and all of our cunning/If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane . . . I took a picture so I could see later if I really looked as crazy as I felt:

Yep.

As I stumbled along the trail I wondered what Time was up to. I wondered whyhe hated me and what did I ever do to him that he would slow down everything for me-- just to prolong my agony. Didn't know I was that special.

So I kept going, angry at the mean trail, stupid time and dumb electrolyte imbalance and finally I reached the aid station before the turn off down the hill that (eventually) led to the finish. The people at the aid station had a camera and took my picture. They were all cheery. I couldn't understand why they seemed so happy when clearly I was dying right before they eyes.

I asked them how far and they said 4 miles. I checked my watch: 4 hours and 23 minutes. I didn't think I could I run 4 miles in 37 minutes at that point. I figured it was going to take me an hour and I tried to keep my shit together since there were people this time around who would witness my temper tantrum. I think I asked them if they would carry me down and I think they just laughed at me and told me I "could do it."

So I started down the hill. The Pogues "Hell's Ditch" was playing on my ipod and I thought how appropriate . I was hot as hell, felt like I had died and the hill was steep and technical and with switchbacks. Hell's Ditch for sure, I figured. Pretty sure Dante somehow got on a boat, saw that hill and went back to Italy and penned The Divine Comedy.

Holy crap it was so hard to run down that hill. My lower legs felt so weak and I was having a really hard time navigating it. I decided at that moment that my body was not meant to do painful things for more than 4 hours without having an epidural.

About half way down I came to a bald spot on the trial that was slicked with mud. I started slipping and grabbed for a tree I was passing and it swung me around. Another runner came upon me at that point and I commented to him that I didn't know how I was going to get down. I watched him navigate down the mudslick but he was on the other sided of the trail. I think I just ended up going down off the trail and holding onto trees.

I stopped and took a picture at the bottom. I took a picture because I was worried that if there was more spots like that on the trail I might not make it and I wanted people to know exactly where I died.

I don't know --the thinking made perfect sense at the time.

I also took a picture of the waterfall. Yeah it was pretty but the beauty didn't really make me any happier at that second but I figured I might appreciate it later.

I started back down the trail running and a guy --okay, I am not 100% certain this actually happened because it was almost like it mocking hallucination--came running past me with airplane arms and said" I thought the downhill was going to be a lot more fun." I really was in disbelief because I had planned to have airplane arms but I just couldn't pull off airplane arms at that point like I had hoped. And that downhill was definitely not fun like I had mistakenly thought it would be.

The trail was starting to flatten out and was easier for me to manage so I could run a little less painfully since I wasn't trying so hard to hold back.

Finally I was at the bottom and I thought I was going to go right--as I knew that was the general direction of the lake with the bridge that would mean I was done. But these kids pointed me left down the road and I was pretty mad about that. I cussed a bit and then realized that they were children and I generally make an effort to not cuss at children, I mean, at least children that aren't mine own. I did have the sense to apologize to them.

I ran a bit down the road and a kid in a silver wig point up a hill. I told him my husband would pay money if he would carry me up the hill. Then as I started up the hill I saw how long it was and I cried out "all the way up?" And another kid just laughed and pointed right. Thankfully the hill was cut off midway.

I was so annoyed but I am trying my best to hurry because I knew that darn lake with the bridge was close and the sooner I got there the sooner I would be done. I was so joyous to know that it was all ALMOST OVER!!!!

Finally I came to a lake and I got so excited. I even took a picture.

Then I realized that this was not lake with the bridge. Oh my GOD! It is never going to end! I thought.

Then I came up to a man standing on a dam and realized where I was and this was the damn I had crossed earlier. I asked him how far and he said you have about a half mile to the shed. Confused, I looked across the lake to the shed and thought why the fuck is he telling me how far it is to that shed? I briefly wondered if something was suppose to happen at the shed that I had forgotten about.

Again, I asked, clarifying that I wanted to know how far to the FINISH. He said "you have a little over a mile."

More cussing from me.

My watch said: 4:50xx. I was pretty discouraged at that second because I had come to understand that no matter how far someone told I had to go it was really much much further than what they said. I figured that "a little more than a mile" was probably code for: 3 miles to go.

As soon as my feet hit asphalt I started running as hard as I could manage. But then, I wasn't fulling paying attention and I went the wrong way. A guy saw me going the wrong way before I got too far and pointed me in the correct direction. Of course it was up ANOTHER HILL! More cussing and a little bit of walking.

Dreams by the Cranberries was playing. I told myself to suck it up and I started running again.

I think at this point I am running through the campground--past people in campsites. People that it seems do not notice there is a race going on. I started to think that maybe I was invisible. That maybe I had died back there in the woods and was now a ghost because not a single one of those people in the campground acknowledged me. I think I even asked some kids if they could see me and while they looked at me like I was a lunatic they did nod; so I felt a teeny bit better to know that I was not dead or invisible.

I knew I had to be close to the finish and just as Lazy Eye by Silversun Pick-ups came on (my favorite song to do treadmill intervals to) I see a lake in the clearing ahead and KNOW this is the one with bridge. Yess!!!!!

So happy am I! A guy points me towards the bridge and run straight for it not realizing there was about a 3ft drop to the pavement until I was in the air. Thank goodness my ankles help up!
I ripped my headphones from my ears and bolted across the bridge and through the grass towards the clock.
I see that it says 4:58 and I hear everyone yelling Right! Right! (as I was about to go down the left side) And I make a sharp last second turn into the correct chute.

I am so thankful and mad and insanely happy to be done.

And after I had a coke, rinsed my hair, changed my clothes and had a beer all was right in my world. I am just happy and so very pleased with myself.



Wow, I know that was super long. Thanks so much reading!

Virgin Bride

Oh, wait. I mean Twisted Ankle Marathon Virgin Bride.
Sorry if there was any initial confusion upon reading the blog title. I am not trying to be one of those "born-again" virgins (like that is even possible.)

Drum roll please . . . Here is my outfit for tomorrow.



As you will see I have my something blue covered--skirt is INDIGO (definitely NOT purple--worst color ever) and my top is aqua (a well known shade of blue) and my socks have blue on the toes.

My something new is my also my top and my socks. The theme of the outfit tomorrow is pockets. I needed pockets otherwise I would resigned to the hideous fanny pack. And clearly, as you can see in the picture I need a lot of pockets if I want to carry all that crap.

My something old is my Run Happy hat, the skirt, my ipod and my knife--I am not going in the North Georgia woods without a weapon. I have seen Deliverance (cue Dueling Banjos)

My something borrowed is the water bottle--yes Dad that is yours and no I did not ask but I "borrowed" it a month ago and since you haven't missed it yet I am sure it is okay. I did tell Mom I was taking it. I am sure she forgot though.

Also borrowed are the trail shoes. They are Lala's.

Yes, yes I know. Not a great idea. And no I haven't done a long run in them but I ran 2.25 miles today and they felt fine--the same;maybe better than my Trance's. I actually almost bought this particular trail shoe but instead I got the Brooks Cascadia because they were out of the Mizuno's in my size. I KNOW I don't like running in my Cascadia's so they are definitely no good. I could always stick with my Brook's Trance but the weather tomorrow is suppose to suck and it is probably going to be super muddy so I think I might really need a trail shoe. I did like how firm and cushioned the heel felt today so I think they will be good. The way I see it; after 26+ miles my feet aren't going to feel good anyway. So I think it is more important I have a shoe with some good traction.

Also, pictured is a camera because who doesn't document their deflowering? And toilet paper--because girlfriend? Doesn't use leaves. Of course I am crossing every part of me and hoping such thing isn't an issue (it isn't usually) but every good Girl Scout is always prepared.

Lastly, even though I am certainly not happy about the forecast:

Hourly Forecast

6 am 64°F Feels Like 64°F

9 am 67°F Feels Like 67°F

12 pm 74°F Feels Like 74°F

3 pm 76°F Feels Like 79°F

6 pm 76°F Feels Like 79°F

9 pm 71°F Feels Like 71°F

Day

Night

I have heard--at least that is what they like to tell the Brides who plan outdoor garden weddings without a rain contingency plan-- that is good luck if it rains on your wedding day.

Sweet Jesus let's hope so!

Twisted Ankle Rewards

This is a bit of a treatise on my ankles. But there will be shoe porn for your patience . . .

I hate to say I have weak ankles--because you always hear girls claiming that (or weak knees as to why they can't run or do something) And, in general, I hate to lay claim to any sort of weakness: but I have to think that maybe I really do have weak ankles.

When I was on the gymnastic team in high school I was constantly twisting, rolling and spraining my ankles. I think part of this was because-- unlike the other girls on my team-- I had no gymnastic training.

I know you are thinking why would one go out for the gymnastic team if they had no prior gymnastic training but my friend said "Hey Nat! Let's try out for the gymnastics team!" I told her "Absolutely not!" Explaining that I didn't know how "to do" gymnastics; that I had never had lessons. She countered with "but you can do flips and splits! You can totally do gymnastics!"

Always the hard sell I tried out.

Definitely B team bound. I spent those two years on the team with taped ankles and shins (apparently front flips give you shin splints). And even though I was far from the best on the team I did do okay and did really enjoy it.

Hmmm, not so unlike running. . .

The first 2 years after I started running I struggled alternately with shin splints and bruised ankles from rolling them so much when I ran. One time I even had to get a ride home cause a guy saw me fall from rolling my ankle and insisted I not try to run home. That time was a really bad one: my foot turned black and blue along the outside. I just taped it up and kept running since it didn't really hurt so long as I kept my ankle straight.

And I am sure it didn't help that the jobs I had back then were either spent as a waitress or in a bookstore. Jobs that required me to be on my feet constantly for 8-some days 15 hours (stupid doubles). In fact, recently when Steph was detailing her symptoms from plantar fasicitis--it all sounded so familiar--and I realized that I had also had that for years (but not anymore). I do prefer to think it was more from wearing high heels to work instead of from running. Running is great for you! Wearing high heels for 8 hours is not (though it does make your legs look pretty and again, you get to be tall.)

I am certain, without having confirmation from a doctor, that my ongoing calf problems are all probably related to those early weaknesses. But whatever, you work with what you have and I work, er, run through the weakness. (I keep thinking if I ignore them they aren't really real.) The way I see it is: if it isn't one thing it is something else hindering me. Might as well suck it up.

At any rate, needless to say, the Twisted Marathon has me shaking a bit in my running shoes and for more than just poor ankles. But I am optimistic in that--so far--during the past 2 years I've been doing some trail running I have not rolled my ankles. In fact, last time I sprained my ankle it was from wearing high heels and tripping on the stairs. However running through the sprain certainly didn't do me any favors. . . But that was 5 years ago. I am sure it is better.

I have to think--with all that trail running, yoga and just running my ankles ARE stronger. And my reward--assuming I survive the twists, turns and hills of the Twisted Ankle course on Saturday is getting to wear my new shoes.

I purchased these shoes over the past 2 months but haven't worn them yet (well except one pair) because I haven't wanted to injury myself before any of my recent marathons while wearing them. But I think --again assuming I don't actually break an ankle (obviously I can preserve through little old sprains and twists)--getting to finally wear my new shoes will be the most perfect reward ever! In fact, when I am in those sad dark places of the marathon where doubt, quitting, and just plain wanting to be shot for ever thinking running 26.2 miles is a good idea I will think about all my new shoes and how cute they will look with my outfits. ( you should imagine clapping after you read that sentence). mmmmm, shoes. . .

And, yes, of course I have pictures. Bring on the shoe porn! And yes, I put them on a cake plate because I think they are that delicious.

You should also know that the price range for these were only $18.00-$34.00 because I either bought them on Ebay (new not used) or found them on super duper clearance and my size was the last pair. Price includes shipping! But they aren't expensive shoes anyway. I would never pay $600.00 for a pair of shoes even if I could afford to--considering how destructive I am.

Sam and Libby's that I have worn once but only for a few hours. They are really comfortable.

These are just so cute I am dying to wear them! I have had them the longest--since the beginning of March at least.

I bought these to go with a dress I am wearing to wedding next weekend but have found that they actually go with a lot of dresses and will look cute with jeans too. But I am being good and waiting.
And these. These are the newest. I bought them off eBay a few weeks ago. I got them super cheap and they were originally sold in the Victoria Secret catalog for over $100. I couldn't even find the pink one for sale on the Internet anywhere though I did find brown and red in case you are interested but still for a lot more than I paid.

Quite honestly I haven't worn these yet because they really are just an ankle accident waiting to happen. Carmella calls them my "dangerous shoes". Ryan laughs and doesn't believe me that I am actually going to wear them. But I am! And I can't wait! Ta da!!!

Letter people

It is almost time for the annual Kindergarten tradition (at least at my kids' school) of the Letter Person Parade.

Carmella, was Miss I. See pictures and details here. I had much less trouble conceiving the idea for that costume than I did for Beau's.

There are only 2 rules to letter people costumes:
1. Store bought costumes are discouraged.
2. No bulky costumes, poster board or boxes, PLEASE! Your child must be able to walk an sit in the costume as well as parade through the halls. Please keep your child's comfort and safety in mind when creating the costume.


I find rule number slightly obnoxious because I have never seen a store made letter person costume. And believe me, if could find one, I would buy one. The one thing that I really don't like about Kindergarten is all the homework that I have to do--no matter how cute the result.

When I got Beau's letter person assignment I was less than thrilled. And when I read the poem I thought for sure that his teacher was purposely trying to be ironic and funny at Beau's and I's expense:

Poor Quiet Q
Has nothing to do
He just hangs around
Not making a sound.

Really? Beau? Quiet? With nothing to do? Bwhahahaha.

So when I was at the school the other day for centers I kind of politely complained; saying I was having a hard time being creative with the letter Q. His teacher immediately informed me that Beau insisted on being Mr. Q. Generally she doesn't let the kids have any say in which letter person they get to be but Beau was so adamant about being Mr. Q she let him--I think partly because of the irony factor. Even Beau's speech teacher and another school employee made a comment to me about how funny it is that Beau is Mr.Q. Word has, apparently, spread.

See.

The kid has a reputation and he is only in kindergarten.

I did ask Beau why he wanted to be Mr.Q and he just said because Mr. Q is "cool" but I suspect that there is some other reason and it will reveal itself soon enough.

I made the costume last night and Beau begged to wear it to school today. He even tried to negotiate " okay, just the hat". And then requested that I also make him a cane with a "Q" shaped handle and some "Q" shaped glasses (which maybe I will do that).

I went ahead and sent it in though. I obviously can't have it hanging around here for week because otherwise I will be spending the next 7 days making accessories for Mr.Q's outfit when clearly I need to remain focused on freaking out about the Twisted Ankle marathon next weekend.

Doubling the Happy

As I said last post. That is my new running mantra.

But boy today did I ever set myself up for possible disappointment and definitely not running happy by doing a 5k and a 10k back to back. I needed a speed workout and I needed to get miles over 50. Also, as soon as I finish the Twisted Ankle marathon I am going to shift gears and focus this summer on finding some speed. I would like to run a 3:20 marathon next year (really 3:23 but might as well shoot for 3:20).

At my current level I don't have the raw speed to support a 3:20 marathon. So before I set myself up for too ambitious goals I need to make some speed gains at the shorter distances. The McMillan Calculator is a pretty handy tool for figuring out training paces and setting races goals based on recent race times and various distances. But let me warn you: the calculator is just a tool, not a contract. So don't get your heart set on anything you may see there. Like it has been telling me based on my shorter races that I can run a 3:24 marathon. That hasn't happened yet. But to me this just means that if I can get faster at the shorter distances than I am now that I might see such a marathon eventually. . .

So, yeah, anyway . . .

My goal for the 5k was to PR--which is anything better than 21:10.

My goal for the 10k was to run next year's goal marathon pace which is (hopefully) 7:35-45 range.

And today . . . I met one of my goals and exceeded the other.

I ran VERY happy today.

Okay, that isn't entirely true. I felt like hot dog poop the entire 5k except the first 30 seconds. But for the 10k I felt AWESOME almost the whole time--until the last 1/4 mile where suddenly I felt like I was moving in slow motion.

You know I can drag anything out so here is the long race report but I have pictures too to help you wade through my lengthy discourse.

Here I am driving to the race:

It is early!

Here is the sun coming up as I drive down Willeo. This road sucks. It screws me on the bike. It is a long down hill that we ride to the river--after several miles of uphill. The downhill is fabulous but it is little reward for the uphills you just rode because you always have to stop at the light. And that takes all the fabulousness out of the downhill because you have to remember to down shift so you don't fall over when the light changes because you are in a high gear. Then leaving the river you have to ride up Willeo. It isn't hard just really really long. You just can't win on this road is all I am saying. But it looked pretty this morning. Ignore my dirty windshield please.
This morning was also warm. It is probably going to be the warmest day we've had all year. The sun wasn't even up and my car said it was 58 degrees. The high today is suppose to be in the 80's. For the 5k I would say it was about 60-65 and for the 10k it was probably almost 70 at the finish. Driving back my car said 74. Luckily the race was by the river which is one, mostly shaded and two, you get a bit of cool breeze coming off the river for most of the run. Oh it helped that both course are pretty flat. Hills and heat are never my friend.

I got to the start and found Doug.
Doug was running the 5k/10k double with me (we are also running the Twisted Ankle Trail marathon in a few weeks together too).

His wife Steph was pushing the girls in the jogger for the 5k and then taking the girls to do the fun run.

Doug and I have known each other since middle school. He and his guy friends use to call me in the middle night and tell me what they wrote in sharpie on whoever had the misfortune of passing out first (usually Ross). Steph we met our freshman year of college. The three of us live very close and have been training together for the past 3 years.

Unfortunately Steph has had plantar fasciitis pretty bad and has been sidelined for awhile now. But she is starting to make a come back.

Here is Steph also with her sister Jen. I think this was to be Jen's first 5k. But just before the start she got the call to come catch a baby and had to leave. (she's OB/GYN). Congrats to whoever had a baby today!

Then I had to put my camera away because I didn't want to run with it. Doug and I lined up the front. He had us smack in the middle and I insisted we move to the side. Finally some of the really fast boys showed up and got in front of us and I felt better about everything.


Mayor Woods, in his bow-tie said go. Really. He said "go". I was kinda waiting for a horn or a gun so I a bit caught off guard.

As I mentioned before I felt pretty good the first 30 seconds. I knew I was going to run fine since my calf hadn't bothered me at all in my warm up. I had been worried since I ran 21 miles Tuesday (8:26 pace) and then 12 (8:14 pace) on Thursday. Sometimes I recover fast; sometimes I don't. I usually don't know until I try to run fast. I could run every single day so long as it was slooowwwww. Fast (again fast being a relative term) is always hard for me: it takes more out of me than long runs.

The only split I have for the 5k is the first: 6:12. Totally ridiculous. I have never run a 6:12 mile ever that I know of.

The first mile and a half I was right beside or on the heels of first and second women. They had racing flats on. Me? I had my marathon trainers on. Clearly, not a professional. As is always the case in a 5k I begin to fade hard and the girls pulled away from me. I cheered for the first place guy as he passed me when I was approaching the turn around. I think I surprised him cause he looked at me like I was crazy. But I wanted to let him know that 2nd place wasn't that far behind him. Just trying to be helpful.

At the turn around I saw Doug and we high-fived. Then in mile 2 I passed Steph going out and we high-fived. The guy manning the traffic at Riverside and Dogwood threw me a thumbs up and I gave him one back.

Just as I was approaching the 3 mile marker Doug surged past me. I thought bastard but yelled "Go Doug!" He beat me by 5 seconds (but I beat him in the 10k.)

I ran down the finish and hit my watch for 20:49!!!!! A 21 second PR. Not smashing, I know, but my goal was to Pr and (secretly) to run under 21. So I did it! I was 3rd woman over-all and first in my age group.

My friend Todd--who I must give a shout out for having just run 2:54 at Boston this week--was handing out flyers for the Big Peach 5k and congratulated me.

Some old man told me if nothing else I won for best hair style. I appreciated that since this is the only hair style I can do that doesn't leave my hair a matted mess of dreadlocks. Glad someone thinks it looks good.

Doug and I filled out our cards, grabbed some water and I had a Gu and checked my watch: 7:55 am. The 10k was starting in 5 minutes and we had a bit of walk to get to it so we high tailed it to the start for the 10k.

The 10k didn't start promptly at 8 am as I thought it would. Which was probably good since it gave my heart a little more time to get out of my throat. My plan was to run the first mile recovery and then see how much I could push it. We lined up mid pack and waited.

Finally we were moving. And instantly I was ready to roll. I weaved through the crowd and tried to remind myself to take it slow. When I passed the guy manning the intersection at Dogwood and Riverside he did a double take and gave me a little applause. Guess he remembered me.

I was both surprised and happy at the first mile split being 7:15. I was feeling really good! Today? Today I LOVED 10k's. Much better than the 5k.

Check out my splits:
Mile 2: 7:15
Mile 3: 7:15--3/4 of this mile was on gravel road. I thought I would slow but I didn't.
Mile 4: 7:29--I walked an aid station to drink some water. I also saw on the turn around that I was probably in 4th or 5th place for the girls. This really surprised me.
Mile 5: 7:14 Still feeling really good. Pass guy at the intersection again and he gives me 2 thumbs up. I throw one back to him.
Mile 6: 7:22 I started to slow a bit in hopes that I could really sprint it out.
Mile .2: 1:54 Unfortunately as soon as I passed the 6 mile sign I felt like I was suddenly moving in slow motion or wading through molasses. I was very hot and, well, suddenly, tired.
But the finish was there and I crossed at 45:47 for an average 7:23 pace.

I was 31st over all, either 4th or 5th woman and 2nd in my age group. Not a bad day at the races.

More pictures:
Annika with her award

Dagny with hers (I told her to hold it up)


Doug was first in his AG for the 5k. He did not want me to take his picture.


And me, with my bookends:

Bad Race Gone Happy

So behind here, I know . . .

Last weekend I ran a 10k and I totally bombed it.

But I am okay about it. I knew I would bomb it. I had some great workouts last week. Most mentionable I ran 20 miles at Kennesaw Mountain (that's off road!) with Ms. sub 3 hour marathoner Kate Brun (good luck at Country Music Marathon! You will do awesome!)

I LOVE running with her. She is everything I am not--most notably, positive. Running with her pushes me to not only run faster and stay honest but also stay positive. She even gave me a hat that says "Run Happy".

Here I am on our run around 17-18 miles--"running happy."

Last week ended up being a big week considering it was less than 3 weeks from GA ING. I say big week for me because I know there are many runners out there who put in a lot more miles than I. On Friday I was at 53 miles for the week and my legs were dead; swollen even.

I know what you are hearing is excuses--I hate them too. But a smarter runner than I would have said--Wow! I am toast this week. I am in no shape to race.

But I had planned to race something on Saturday.

Never one with the best laid plans, am I?

A few weeks ago I was having beers with my good friend Dee Dee. She told me I should do "this 10k" by her house--"you could totally win," she added, dangling the carrot. Whatever I thought. I never win (that 5k was a total fluke.)

But still, the line? It was baited and I am a dumb fish.

My original plan was to run the Sweetwater 5k that day and drink copious amounts of beer at the festival after wards (that part of the plan I did adhere to).
But I never got around to registering and I when I tried online registration it had been closed. I didn't want to worry about driving downtown and not getting a number. Dee called me Friday afternoon and reminded me about the 10k and offered to go sign me up. So I was on board--all the way though nay saying the sense of me racing in my condition.

While we were on the phone--discussing the next day's plans-- we stalked last year's results together. Winning woman was 44:xx.

I've run several 10k's(though I've only run about 8 10k's in my life) in the 44xx range and even one sub 44. But, as I told Dee, I was not in the shape to run 44 tomorrow. I kinda wondered if sub 48 was even in the cards.

I am not kidding; my legs were in bad shape. Too much mileage not enough recovery. I had run--since the Ga marathon and including the marathon--almost 150 miles in 2 1/2 weeks. That is a lot for me--at least after a marathon.

Then I looked at Dee's time from last year: 1:02 xx. What's that about I asked her? That is about the same pace you run a half marathon at. You should definitely be sub 1 hour 10k, I told her. She responded with "I just run my little pace for everything"

I told her she should try to be faster.

She told me she didn't really care.

I, of course, did not believe her.

First, let me say this about Dee. She is beautiful. All the boys drool for her. Wait, I know this blog is "useless without pictures" so here is an oldie but goodie of me and Dee: Strangely, the only pictures I have of her and I we are wearing costumes. She is, if nothing else, a kindred spirit.

But sadly, she is not as much the runner as I am but is rather lady-who-is-tennis-who-sometimes-runs-a-half-marathon--occasionally-a-10k-just because she can (with very little training).

I woke up race morning and the legs were still not good. Trying to be Positive Nat instead of Negative Nat I stuck with my plan. I got to the start early and had tons of time to warm up. I ran, stopped and stretched and ran and stretched some more. My left calf was not with the program. I kept thinking if I could it warm it up really good I would be okay and could nail some hard paces. But the reality of it was I just wasn't feeling it. I knew it but I go in with the attitude of you don't know until you try. Fact of the matter is though; that sometimes you do know. You just hope you are wrong--even when you know you are right.

I met up with Dee before the race and she instructed me to "get in front." I did but then I got intimidated by a few girls who were much faster looking than I that were also toeing the front line. So I stepped a row back.

Off we went and after a bit I thought, hmm I feel pretty good. This might be my day after all. . . Then I checked my watch and saw that only 45 seconds had passed.

I tried my best to stay behind she-who looked-the-fastest-of-them-all but I did end up passing her pretty early on. I could "feel" her on my heels though and it really really really bugged me. I felt like she had picked me out and I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted no part of competition--which, of course, was because I knew I couldn't win. Who wants to compete if you know you are going to lose. You have to think you are going to win to win-- or at least have some tiny, teeny part of you that thinks that. I had no small--even microscopic-- parts of me thinking that. And as it turned out--my whole being was right on. And this is one of those times where being right was really not what I wanted . . .

About a half mile in my calves were locked and the suckage of a 10k was hard upon me.

I hit the first split in 7:05. I was fine with this time--this is a hilly 10k and I really wasn't expecting much out of me--but my calves were just getting worse and now we were starting on an uphill. I started thinking about it and decided that wow! 10k's suck and I was NOT having fun! The idea of 37+ more minutes of this agony was just not something I was up for after all. This? Was most definitely not "running happy." And me? I am about the happy (or so I keep telling myself). So when I saw the water stop I stopped and decided I would wait for Dee. I decided it would be more to run with a friend.

I waited for what felt like FOREVER but really was only a few minutes.

She saw me and was like; "What the hell?! You were doing good!".I told her I wasn't doing good and wasn't up for the fight. But I would be helping her run a PR and she would be going under the hour. She didn't seem as happy at this news as I thought she should be.

What.EVER!!! And so began my cheer leading and chatter for the next 4 and so miles. I knew I was being annoying and Dee kept saying "Really, if you are feeling it you should go on! Really."

And I would assure her I was right where I wanted to be. Running fast? Over-rated. Painful. 10k's? They suck! But she? She was doing awesome!

Do you feel like you are going to throw up a little? I would ask.

Yeah-- a little, she would admit.

And I would cheerfully tell her THAT is AWESOME! That means you are running EXACTLY how you should be!!

She looked at me like I was crazy. Or like she wanted to trip me.

See Dee? Dee runs pretty. I kept thinking she is looking too good; we should go faster. And I would try to pick up the pace and if she lagged I would slow, otherwise I would hold it and she would run faster to keep up.

At four miles--after the worst of the hills-- I told her that she had 24 minutes to run 2.2 miles to get under the hour. That she had this, I told her. And that seemed to rally her. Her miles were actually getting faster. I guess she realized that the only way to get rid of my annoying presence would be to get this race over with.

As soon as we passed the 6 mile marker I picked out a tree 50 or so feet ahead of us and told her: See that tree? (she nodded blindly) When we get to it I am going to start sprinting and you better chase me. She nodded. You see that young girl in the blue shirt, I asked. She nodded again, looking at me like I was little crazy (I am). She's going down, I told her. You are going to beat her. She nodded but didn't look like she believed me.

And then I took off; calling over my shoulder to her: "Go Dee Go Dee! Kick it!" And I saw she was chasing after me. I sprinted past girl in blue shirt and down the straight a way to the finish. I crossed just under 57 minutes and then stopped in the shoot to wait for Dee. I got yelled at to "keep moving "but I stood my ground, letting people go around me, loosing my place, and yelling for Dee.

And at 57:13 she zoomed in, one second before girl in blue shirt, for a new pr and a 5 minute improvement over last year's time on the same course.

After she caught her breath she thanked me; saying she "never would have run that fast" on her own (which, of course isn't true.) Then said she could not believe I talked the WHOLE time.

So yeah, MY race sucked but my race was great because I got to watch a good friend have great success and that, for me, last Saturday, was what running happy meant.

But by golly, I sure hope that tomorrow--when I attempt a 5k and 10k back to back double-- that running happy means fast! I hope. . .

If not, I will find a way to the happy, some how.

Good luck to all my racing friends this weekend--cyclists, triathletes, and runners alike. May you all have happy races.

Silver Skate Legend Lives!

I am kidding. It definitely does not.

He does look a little bit Dutch with that haircut but Hans Brinker he is not.

This week is spring break. Most of my children's friends are out of town. This isn't a big deal because my kids play really well together and we have plenty of toys, activities and things for them to do at home. However, yesterday Carmella had a play date/sleepover with her friend Reina and it was just me and Beau. This is never good because Beau does not like to be alone and requires constant entertaining. Carmella is usually that entertainment. When she is gone I become his entertainment director and companion.

Normally we go do something like run on the trail or ride bikes or, his favorite, go to the dog park (usually with the dog but sometimes not). But yesterday it was very un-spring like and was snowing and windy and just too cold to go outside and play. At least for us delicate Southern stock. Maybe if we really were Dutch we could hack it but then again we might skate better too.

Oh well.

It was too late in the day to drive into Atlanta to go to the High Museum or the Aquarium or Fernbank Science Center and I just can't do the bounce house places. So I asked him if maybe he wanted to go roller skating.

He said, "you mean like Sparkles?"

I was shocked because I didn't think Sparkles was around any more. Sparkles was where I use to skate when I was a kid.

So I Googled Sparkles and sure enough they not only are still around there was a location less than 20 minutes from our house.

I was again surprised to arrive at Sparkles and find that in 30 years not much had changed. They still have the exact same carpet and-- though this was a different Sparkles than the one I went to as a kid-- the layout is still the same. Different was instead of a disco/dance room there is now a Laser tag room. And while there was still video games galore there was also an indoor play ground. Different also was that in addition to the old school skates they now also offered inline skates.

Beau wanted the old school and I decided to go with the inline skates. I am a fairly proficient skater but it has been awhile since I wore the old school. Last time was in my mid 20's and I went with a group of friends to some nightclub in Atlanta (can not recall the name) that featured roller skating. It was a very short lived club as far as I know. I remember it being an absolute blast but I think the whole serving alcohol and roller skating on concrete was just a lawsuit waiting to happen. Sure, you did have to sign a waiver to get into the club but I am not sure how legally binding a document is that you neither remember signing or when the illegible signature does not at all resembles yours because you are so intoxicated you can barely hold the pen to sign it. But whatever, like I said, it was a fun club while it lasted. . .

I have to say that for not one second did it really occur to me that Beau might not be able to skate. Okay, well it did once the lady in line behind me with her two kids when we were getting our skate rentals asked me if Beau had skated before. I told her this was his first time and she made this knowing face that while I didn't really know what it meant felt that it probably didn't bode well for me.

Still, I thought, Beau is my kid and I have always been able to skate well. Surely he inherited my innate skating ability. Those things are totally genetic, right? No doubt, I saw those other kids out there hugging the wall, falling all over themselves and clinging for dear life to any out stretched adult hand but I figured those kids just weren't blessed with good genes. I mean, from my perspective, half the parents weren't doing that great either.

And you know, if you have read this blog, I have long cautioned you as a parent against ever having a smug moment or passing superior judgement as it ALWAYS comes back to bite you in the ass.

Too bad I didn't remember that yesterday as I watched the uncoordinated lot of parents and kids make their way slowly and painfully around the rink.

Always with the humility Nat. Always.

I'll keep saying it until it sticks. So very tired of all these lessons. . .

Nevertheless my confidence never wavered in that Beau was going to be an excellent skater. I mean, we are talking about a kid that was climbing the furniture at 5 months old --before he could ever crawl. Then he was climbing in and out of his crib at 14 months old. He learned to swim at 2 and could ride his bike without training wheels at 4. At 5 he is doing front flips (which he is not suppose to do at all because mommy said no flips, just jumping) on the trampoline. Agility, strength are his forte.

So needless to say I was shocked that putting roller skates on him turned him instantly into a muscle-less wet noodle.

I first tried holding his hand and skating next to him and he nearly brought me down with him. Next I tried me skating backwards and holding both his hands. My shoulders and arms--already tired from my hour swim that morning--couldn't take it for long. Then I tried being behind him and holding him up under his arms. How is it possible that a 47lb kid can feel like 147 lbs when he has roller skates on?

We made it around the rink twice and I relented to let him take the skates off because I was dying from holding him up. I think I burned 5000 calories the two times we went around--which I should add took about 30 minutes. The lady who made the knowing face to me probably burned 10,000 because when I saw her she was holding up both of her kids. I bet she doesn't even have to workout. She just thinks: I need to get in some cardio and strength training today. Hey kids! You guys wanna go roller skating?

So thank goodness for the indoor playground.

Oddly though,Beau just this second asked me if we could please go to Sparkles today with Carmella.

He loves roller skating, he says.

Even though it was yesterday I just don't think he is remembering the experience correctly. But, you know, maybe it is like the marathon in that you don't really remember how it is until you are running it again and at mile 23 you realize, oh yeah, this kinda sucks a little.

The Modesty Gene

mod⋅es⋅ty /ˈmɒdəsti/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [mod-uh-stee]

–noun, plural -ties.

1.	the quality of being modest; freedom from vanity, boastfulness, etc.

2.	regard for decency of behavior, speech, dress, etc.

3.	simplicity; moderation.

4....... Carmella

---

Origins: 1525–35; italia modestia.

Common antonym:

I use to think that modesty was something one grew into; or rather that it was something life beat into you.

You know, kinda like how a lot of people will be bleeding heart liberals in their youth and then they have to go out into the "real" world and get a job and start paying real taxes and then bam: they are conservative. Or sometimes, they are liberal and then they have kids and of course that changes everything.

Shut up.

I am speaking generally.

Yeah you, I am talking to you who is reading this and saying: THAT totally doesn't apply to me.

Just bear with me please. This is not about you. This is, of course, about ME.

Anyway, I have come to realize that there must be a modest gene and I do NOT. have. IT.
Never have.
Life?
Has not beaten it into me.
I admit to being a little dumb. Or as my dad says "hard-headed".

Okay, I will concede that life has beaten a tiny bit of good sense into me-- but not much. Basically it boils down to that I may not be the first to take off their clothes any more but I can also promise you that I am not the last either.
The clothes?
Yeah, they'll still come off.

And by "taking off clothes" you do know I am speaking metaphorically? Right?

Well, kind of. . .

And sure, sometimes I do get embarrassed-- but I am over it in the blink of an eye.
I don't blush.
I am not bashful.
I am, let's face it, a bit of a braggart.
If you see me being quiet there are 3 things going on:
1. I am trying to figure out how to interrupt so I can talk.
2.I am sick or in pain.
3.You have bored the hell out of me and I am no longer even listening to you.

Of course there are good and bad points to having this type of personality.

Wait, I mean persoNATALIE.

But for better or for worse this is who I am.

My poor daughter. She apparently got more modesty gene than any human being should ever be allowed to have. Lucky for her though she has me as a mom to help ease her way into life so those embarrassing, attention drawing situations will be much less painful for her.

Beau, like me, is lacking the modesty gene. In fact, as I write this he is here in the living room in only his underwear dancing on the couch to Spoon's Underdog. Try as I may I cannot embarrass Beau. And try as he may he can embarrass me-- a little. But, like I said, it is short lived. Like him, my thinking is all attention is good attention. I--and he--can not help it. I swear!

Carmella, by the way, would NEVER dance around in her underwear in the living room in front of open windows.
I?
Totally guilty of dancing around in my underwear.

Let's put it this way; Carmella--at age 8:
Closes the drapes on her window when she dresses.
Me?
At age 37?
This still hasn't occurred to me.

Okay I think you get my point.

So today I was mystery reader for Carmella's class. I've known about it for about 2 months. I picked this particular date when the email went out for parent volunteers because I knew I would be recovering from ING and therefore would miss no important workouts and also it was the Friday before spring break and Easter. Automatic themes to work with. I may be a fly by the seat of my skirt kinda girl but I am all about a THEME!

Of course, since my kids go to public school, I can't really do a theme about Easter. And of course I wanted to wear a costume. Because, duh, if I didn't I would not embarrass Carmella. (And if I don't embarrass Carmella then how would that be helping her?)

Thursday I went to Border's Books to look for inspiration. First book I found was Humpty Dumpty Climbs Again. This gave me an idea that I could use plastic eggs with treats inside as their little favor--cause, really, unwritten rule is you can't come empty handed as mystery reader.

Past times I have been mystery reader I have done stuff like make cupcakes with spiders webs with a fly for when I read The Spider and the Fly.

Or, when I read a pirate book I dressed as a pirate and brought the kids chocolate doubloons and pirate outfits.

And earlier this year I read Halloween books and dressed as a witch and brought them candy and mummy eyes and we played Mummy in the Graveyard.

Needless to say I've set a standard by which these kids have become accustom to.

The pressure! This is second grade! Not kindergarten. They have expectations.

The next book I found was Dumb Bunnies. I was a little worried about the word "dumb". But decided to risk it and my plan, my theme began to take form.

Next stop was Target for plastic eggs and a pair of bunny ears--I know I have some but have no idea where they are. It was a dollar well spent not having to hunt down an old pair. I also bought dum dums and smarties.

My plan was to tell the kids to not be "dum dum's" over spring break and instead be a bunch of "smarties" and keep up their reading.

Unfortunately the dum dum's did not fit in the egg. I put tootsie rolls in there too. They totally didn't match my theme and I will admit that kinda did give me a bad feeling on the inside to not have everything "go" but I consoled myself with that "everything goes with chocolate."

I kinda did want to put Carmello bunnies in there too but that was getting too pricey having to make favors for 16 kids. I have to reign myself in one way or another and usually, in my case, it is because of a budget.
Self control? Will power?
Things I do not have.
Wild flying creativity?
In spades.
Money?
Nope.
The way I see it everyone needs a boundary. Unlucky-- and sometimes lucky--for me mine is the pocket book. Having limits forces you to make better use of your creativity because it becomes about finding solutions and work (here comes the cliche; brace for it),"outside of the box."

This morning before my run I took some time to make my favors. Creativity struck again and I decided to make my eggs all Humpty's. Big on creative ideas, small on artistic talent I think they still turned out pretty good considering my lack of talent with sharpies.
The kids LOVED them.! They loved making Humpty climb up stuff, fall down and break apart. Evil little sadists second graders are!
We all played with our Humpty's after the stories.

After I made the favors I went out for a run and hoped inspiration to hit me again for my costume. I got in 6 hilly miles. My first road and hill run since the marathon on Sunday. Really, if I am being honest, I was hoping to run longer. Ideally it would have been 12 but I really didn't have time since I didn't yet have my costume fully realized. Besides, it was really windy and my lower left leg is still not 100% from the marathon. I am sure I could have pushed through it but there is not point. I am in recovery mode and I have run everyday this week except Wednesday because I swam that day (see how I have to say it to make myself think it is okay). So everything is coming along (again, if I keep saying it I will believe it--like my whole "run happy" mentality. Embracing the zen. Exhale).

When I got back Ryan happened to come home while I pulling stuff out of my closet and laying it out on my bed, designing my costume. He asked what I was up to and groaned a "poor Carmella" when I told him I was the mystery reader. He then advised me that the cheetah clogs were too slutty, not to wear any part of my Santa costume and then told me I was an idiot when he saw the final result. I, by the way, was just so excited that I found another outfit to wear with my pink leg warmers that go with the slutty kitten costume .

Ryan may think me a fool but he still took my picture (and he kissed me too and he like, Carmella, is modesty gene endowed.)
I give you Dumb Bunny Momma: (Note the cow bell. I? Am not afraid to have people look at me.)So I will admit to this strange sensation I felt --that I have to assume might be a type of embarrassment therefore akin to modesty-- when I had to walk across the parking lot of the school, sign in at the front office and then walk down to the second grade hall while every single person that passed me giggled, muttered under breath or just stared at me jaw dropped open. But you know what, I own it and just smile at them. I have found that if you don't give forum to self consciousness people tend to have a harder time questioning you outright and making fun of you in person because frankly, and this is just a theory, but I think they might be a little scared. So they say nothing.
At least not to your face.

PS. I think my plan is working on Carmella. When I walked in her classroom she just rolled her eyes and said "not again."
But she did laugh and sat next to me while I read and happily handed out the Humpty's to her classmates.

PPS. I stopped by Beau's class to give them candy and Beau just said, completely unfazed; "I like your ears Mommy" and then went back to talking to his friend. It was like it didn't register to him that it was a costume but rather he was just noticing that I had a fancy new accessory. Which in fact, he asked me about after school: "Mommy, those new ears that you had? Can boys wear them? I would like some but not pink."