Peggy Ann McKay

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut - my eyes are blue -
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke -
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is - what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is ... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!" - Shel Silverstein

When I was in the 4th grade I had to memorize this poem for school. As I've gone through life, there have been times where I've felt like I sound just like little Peggy Ann McKay. However, unlike Peggy Ann, I don't think I've ever faked anything to get out of school, work, etc. There are times when my body seems to be broken and I find myself reciting the first lines... A gash. A rash. Some purple bumps.

On Sunday, I thought about writing a PSA (public safety announcement). I thought of all the funny things I could say. Wondering if it would be appropriate to run naked from the waste down. Wondering if it would be inappropriate to cut the briefs out of a running skirt and just run in the skirt part. Obviously joking. Wanting to make light of the subject. Butt, on Sunday, there was no way I could sit down long enough to do so...

Quite frankly, I am a mess! I tend to ignore things until I'm going insane. I don't go to the Dr. until it's absolutely necessary. I have found in the past, that Dr.'s aren't always able to help. So, in my head, I figure, why bother? Why spend the money when there's nothing that can be done anyway?

However, when Cory came home from work on Tuesday and I met him at the door crying my eyes out he said, "It's 4:45. The Dr. is still open. Call them. Make an appointment." I did. And in all my embarrassment, I choked out the words, my problem, my issue. And, they so nicely got me in the next morning.

The Dr. was great! She made me feel like it was no big deal. That the fact that my children had left me with gifts she would call "horrible" made me feel like I wasn't such a pansy after all. And the fact that wearing sweaty clothes for too long caused me pain that caused me to be unable to think clearly was validated when she explained what she saw. Yes. TMI. But, stick with me here.

Here's the PSA...

CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES IMMEDIATELY AFTER WORKING OUT!!! IMMEDIATELY!! DO NOT RUN ERRANDS! DO NOT CLEAN YOUR HOUSE!! DO NOT PASS GO!!! SHOWER. DRY OFF COMPLETELY. AIR OUT WHENEVER POSSIBLE (yes. she did say this. yes. she also told me to let hubs know that it wasn't an invitation :))

Here's the other part of the PSA...

If, after having children, they leave a "little" gift behind in your behind, PLEASE go see the Dr. They can give you things to make life better. Really. There is NO need to suffer for years! (or NINE) Really. Go. Run. See a Dr.!

So, add to that mess the fact that at the end of last Tuesday's run my knee started hurting, and you've got a little Peggy Ann McKay. I powered through last Wednesday's wonderful mile repeats, feeling great until the last couple of laps. Thursday's 4 miler caused us to stop multiple times so I could stretch. Ouch! This weekend's 10 miler didn't happen because of the issues above and pants were not an option. Then, this morning, while running 3, the pain hit again. I was fine the first two miles and then, holy cow, the pain was crazy. We stopped, stretched and tried to go on. And for the 1st time, I couldn't. We ended up walking the last 1/2 mile and right now, I'm a little worried.

What in the world??

Seriously.

A gash? A rash? Some purple bumps?

At this point, I'm wondering if God's giving me a little lesson. Humbling me a bit. It's not about my time. It's about the journey. It's about the fact that I GET to run. To treasure and cherish that. To cherish my time with God when I'm running. To be grateful for the friendships that grow when I run. Maybe, for me, for now, it's not about time.

I'm still hoping for sub 2:00. But, that's another post altogether. And, for now, I'll just be thankful that I know that when I stand at the starting line on 10/17 that I can go the distance. That, I am capable of. We'll just have to wait and see what's in store for my time.

Pete and Repeat

I didn't sleep very well last night. Tossing. Turning. Not feeling great and filled the anticipation of my workout for this morning. Honestly, I was excited!

The alarm went off. I hopped out of bed. Turned the coffee pot on. Got my favorite running clothes on and enjoyed my favorite pre-run breakfast. Coffee and Clif bar, oh how I LOVE you! Since I can no longer enjoy donuts, Clif bars are the next best thing. Of course, ask anyone who CAN have donuts and I'm sure they would be quick to disagree :)

This morning I headed to the school track for mile repeats. I had no idea what to expect since my memories of the track involve a few run intervals when I started running back in January and if you go way back, memories of having to run the mile in PE in middle school... for which my fastest mile then was 8:00 and that was a push!

I thought I'd take a pre-repeat picture. I was completely expecting and looking forward to feeling like crap at the end, so I thought I would fully document it. Sick. I know.

Don't I look happy, excited, oh and yes, the eyes look a little tired.

I did the required warm up mile: 9:23. I was a horse rearing to go. Reminding myself to slow down. Slow down. Slow down!

Then, I was there. What would I do? What could I do? Could I get the prescribed 8:20? 3 times in a row?? Do I even have what it takes??? Yes. Self doubt has become a friend of mine in the last week or so.

On your mark.

Get set.

GO!

Running. Pushing. Finding it actually a bit comfortable at first. I found that if anything, the track keeps my pace quite consistent.

1 lap.

2 laps.

3 laps.

4. Pushing. Not allowing myself to give up. Breathing hard. My watch beeped. Holy crap!!

7:06!!!

Catch my breath for a 1/2 mile.

Time for mile 2.

Knowing 8:20's were recommended. Not really sure if it was dumb to go all out on the 1st mile. Feeling completely clueless. Slowing myself down a tad.

7:32!!!

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

Only 1 more. I can do this. Still feeling great. Definitely getting winded.

I hit that last mile. Pushing through lap 1. Counting down. I can do this. Constantly telling myself, "I can do this!" "Don't give up!" "You've got this!"

Lap 2 done.

Lap 3.

Then, I saw my pace. Starting to creep. 7:18. 7:19. 7:20. NO!!! Do. Not. Give. Up. Now!!! Pushing through. My watch beeped...

7:13!!!

All I could do was thank the Lord as I finished with my cool down mile. And, funny thing, I had NO problem taking that one slow! Finishing with a 10:01 mile.

What I loved about my workout this morning was the consistency of my pace. The scenery never got boring since I started in pitch dark and got to watch as the fog in the trees created shadows. As the sky lit up with speckled red and pink clouds. As the fog rolled in and out. Making one end of the track invisible at times. There were some walkers and runners. All friendly. All enjoying the morning. It was peaceful. Refreshing. Encouraging.

Giddy with excitement. A lump in my throat. I couldn't wait to share the news with Cory. Those were my fastest miles EVER. Ever. And, I beat my oldest son's mile time by a whole minute.

I can do this.

And then, as if the morning hadn't been wonderful enough, my oldest told me to grab the camera and come take a picture. This is what we saw...

God is so stinkin' cool!! What a beautiful gift of a morning!

Just One Look

I have a tendency to be a little OCD when it comes to races. I play them over and over in my head. Replaying each moment. Wondering if I could have pushed more. Given more. Done more. What would I change? What can I do better? What will get me to my goal?

What would I change about Eugene?

Probably not the best thing to actually RACE Hood to Coast the weekend before. I should have stuck to the plan. Enjoyed some nice, beautiful runs and focus on them being EASY runs! But, as I've said before, how do you not race?? People to pass. People to pass you. Lesson learned. NO back to back races if I want to PR.

I also started WAY too fast. Need to put on the breaks. Need to trust my body. Need to believe that as long as I race smart, I will get there without using all my body has in the first half.

What can I do better?

Pace myself. Go in with a plan. Make sure I know that plan forward and backward and every which way in between.

Trust my training.

What will get me to my goal?

Speedwork. It starts tomorrow morning. I've got a date with the track. Can't wait!

Researching what carbs will fuel my wheat free body best.

Making sure I am as fit and ready as I can be.

However, when I saw the pictures from the race yesterday, all it took was one look at this picture.

Just one. And I knew. I had given it my all. Everything I had. I crossed that line with tears in my eyes. Wheezing. Trying to get air to my lungs. Depleted. I. Had. Nothing. Left.

I love this picture. I see the pain. I see determination. I see a strong women pushing.

I gave it my all. And for the next 4 weeks and 5 days I will give it my all to achieve my goal. Knowing that I played all my cards and put it all out there.

Not Your Mama's Jazzercise

I glanced at the clock this morning.

9:50

10 more minutes!

My heart was pounding.

Sweat was pouring.

Holy cow!

I'm not talking about running here.

And yes.

I realize this is a running blog.

But, when I'm not running, I'm Jazzercising.

Yes.

Jazzercising.

And, this morning, it KICKED my tail!

I wasn't able to go to class all of August between having my brother's family here and life, it just wasn't possible. And after taking a month off, I could absolutely tell a difference in my body.

My core has become squishy.

My biceps and shoulders that I was so excited to see? Yeah. Not as visible.

And let's not talk about the little badonkadonk I got going on.

My weight hasn't changed. But, my body sure has!

I finally got back to class last week and when I told my friend that I was so out of shape, she rolled her eyes at me.

The truth is, I am TOTALLY out of shape. Sure, my lungs are great. My legs? Just fine. The rest of me has been neglected.

Before I started running in January I attended Jazzercise 3 days a week. When I first started, it helped me to lose some of the 20 pounds I had packed on. Some. However, only being able to go 3 days a week did not really do much for the last 10 pounds.

Then, running entered my life. The 10 pounds dropped and then a few more. I had found the perfect combination for my body. Jazzercise + Running = A healthy AND happy girl!

My instructor is amazing. She encourages us to push our bodies... to squat a little lower, hold our core a little tighter, strong arms, strong back. I leave there knowing that I worked as hard as I could and my muscles will probably let me know by the next day.

When I tell friends that I Jazzercise, I get a little look. Really? Do they wear leg warmers and leotards? I'm sure that what they picture is a look from the 80's. But, no. There are no leg warmers (but aren't those coming back?) and no one walks around in a leotard going up their rear. I promise :)

What I do know, is that I get to hear some great music. I get to visit with some great women. I sweat my rear off and my muscles start to appear. I feel stronger. Which makes me feel better when I run. Which makes me run faster. What a wonderful combination.

Regardless of what you do, I am such an advocate for making sure to get some other workout in other than running. I love running. I do. But, I need the strength too.

I'm counting down to my last race of the season. Only 5 more weeks. My schedule is written out. 3 days of Jazzercise. 3-4 days of running. 1 day of rest a week. Making my body as healthy as can be. Doing what I can and hoping that when I cross that finish line I will see 1:59:00 (or do I even dare say 1:56?)

Need Inspiration?

There are many reasons I run.

One reason, however, pushes me harder and farther.

The reason is my brother.

He cannot run.

I can.

Remember?

13.1 for me and 13.1 for him.

Then, today, while on facebook, a friend posted this.

This is a guy I went to high school with. He graduated a year ahead of me and while I didn't know him well, I remember him being a great guy.

It appears he lived life to the full before his accident and is continuing to push on and live life to the full in spite of his accident.

Talk about inspiration.

I can whine because I'm tired.

I can be disappointed because I didn't achieve my goal.

I can.

However.

The fact of the matter is, I GET to run!

As I pushed through in Eugene and started to get mad, I reminded myself that I GOT to run that race. I WANTED to run that race. There was no place I would rather be. (well, Mexico, on the beach, with some chips and guacamole would be nice.) But, still, I love running. I GET to run.

And any time I forget that I really do love it, that I am so very thankful for it, I'll just need to remind myself of my brother, Jason, and all those who simply cannot run right now.

Thank you for sharing your story Jason!

My Weekend. My Race. My Plan.

My Weekend

To say I had an amazing weekend doesn't even cover it.

It was more than amazing.

Laughing until my stomach hurt.

Giggling over the silliest things.

Acting like a girl.

Not a 33 year old woman.

Deep conversations.

New friends.

The best night sleep I've had in a long time. (Man the Hilton in Eugene has some comfy beds!!)

Delicious food. (Cafe Yumm!, Sfizio and P.F. Chang's)

Meeting Sarah Bowen Shea of Run Like a Mother and hearing a bit of her book.


Getting said book from my sweet friend Julie. (Just noticed it's signed by SBS as well! Thanks Julie!!)

Running the inaugural Eugene Women's Half with some pretty awesome friends.


The weekend was a blessing. Renewing my spirit. Refreshing my soul. I am beyond thankful and look forward to another girls race weekend!

My Race

I already went over much of the race in my previous post, but still have a bit more...

I was looking at my splits and comparing it to the wonderfully forgotten pace band I had printed out. The number on the other side of the slash is what it was supposed to be.

Mile 1: 8:14/8:51
Mile 2: 8:35/8:51
Mile 3: 8:49/8:51
Mile 4: 8:36/8:52
Mile 5: 8:39/8:51
Mile 6: 8:55/8:51
Mile 7: 9:11/8:52
Mile 8: 9:17/8:51
Mile 9: 9:12/8:51
Mile 10: 10:00/8:51
Mile 11: 11:40/8:52
Mile 12: 9:35/8:51
Mile 13: 9:54/8:51
Mile 13.1: No idea, forgot to turn my watch off :(

Such consistency from the pace band. Such inconsistency from me. Unsure. Not trusting my training. I can sit here and say, "could've, should've, would've," but, then I wouldn't have met my angel. I wouldn't have learned the same lessons. I wouldn't have had the same experience. I cannot change what God had planned. Just enjoy it. Learn from it. Move on.

I've laughed at this picture several times. Click on it. Zoom in. Notice the young girls face in the red shirt?

She's looking at me like I'm crazy. I must have been either mumbling or moaning. Either way, it makes me laugh!

My Plan

I was over on the facebook page of Run Like a Mother yesterday and saw someone asking about a sub 2:00 half marathon. Dimity mentioned her training plan from the August issue of Runner's World. As I went to get my oil changed today I saw that wonderful issue sitting in the dash of my car (funny, there was also the September issue. My dashboard is like a coffee table.)

I took the magazine in and feverishly looked over the plan while I waited. Marking dates. Calculating. Wondering if it would be rookie mistake number 554...

If I use this week to rest and begin training again on Monday (actually Tuesday) I have 5 weeks until the Girlfriend's 1/2 Marathon. I want a sub 2:00 finish like nothing else. As I read Dimity's article, I actually got teary. I want this. Bad.

So, here's the plan. Start up on Dimity's week 6. I have already built the miles. I really do think my body is capable of a sub 2:00 finish. My mind? I'm not sure. Here's what it will look like...

When I was in labor with Brenton, I was calm, cool and collected. Breathing through each contraction. Breathing through the pain. Focused. Not wanting an epidural. The nurse checked me and told me that I was 9-9.5 cm dilated. She called the Dr. in and he had me push a couple of times. He checked me again and said that the pushing had caused me to have a little lip and I was now at about a 6. My mind. My focus. Completely gone. I started panicking. I couldn't do it. Crazy with the pain. Losing my mind. 20 minutes later, with 2 minutes of pushing, Brenton was born. Had I known that it was only going to be 20 more minutes I wouldn't have lost it. I would have pushed through for 20 more minutes.

I thought of my 1/2 like that. Really, up until mile 10, I could have recovered my losses. Could I have pushed any more?? I don't know. But, the beauty with running is that I DO know how much longer I have. I just have to focus and remind myself when my body says, "no more!"

So, here goes to what could be rookie mistake #554 or to what could be breaking sub 2:00.

Bring it on!

My Angel

I went to run the Eugene Women's Half knowing that my goal was within reach...

My pace has really picked up. I can run faster farther. I am running at an easy pace that months ago was hard for me. I ran 11 miles recently with Wendy at an 8:59 pace and that included much conversation. I was ready.

Or so I thought...

My sweet friend, Julie, tells me it was because my body was not recovered from Hood to Coast the weekend before. And, perhaps, that is why. Why my goal was far from met.

I was shooting for 1:56-1:58. 1:58 seemed like it would be easy. 1:56 would be me pushing hard.

I met neither.

I started with the 1:50 pacer. Thinking that if I could keep her in my sights, I would make it. A pacer. Sounded like a good idea. However, this pacer, was not a good idea, at all. The 1st red flag flew when someone came up to her and asked her what she was pacing and laughed a bit when she told them what time. They then asked her what she normally ran. 1:30. Yes, 1:30. Red flag #2, she told me she might start out fast and then would be able to dial it in. 3 steps into the race and I knew she was NOT going to work for me. She was off and I could no longer see her head.

Thankfully, Sarah Bowen Shea, from Run Like A Mother was right there. We had chatted a little and I asked if she would mind if I ran with her for a bit. I knew her goal was faster than mine, but she seemed much more conservative than the pacer. I think I might have made it 3/4 of a mile with her, but it was great. I didn't feel alone. I felt great.

Mile 3 and I fell in step next to 2 other ladies. I liked their pace and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't doing so hot. Yes. I did say mile 3. We talked a bit and as we ran by some spectators I hear 1 gal say, "Hey, Jen, can I give you my shirt?" I laughed. Jen used to go to my church. Jen used to be in my Mom's group. I was running with Jen's neighbor.

I started counting down the miles. Praying for my legs to cooperate. They, in all their disobedience, did not want to comply. I simply had nothing to give. Nothing. Tears were not far from my eyes as I prayed for God to get me through.

Mile 6.5 and I knew I was almost half way there. Praying. Praying. Praying with every step. Wanting to dive in the river as we ran along. Wanting to jump off the bridge. I was thirsty. I was sore. I was pushing. I was hurting. I physically could not do it. I started walking.

I could not believe I was walking.

Walking.

I walked. Defeated. Praying.

Months ago I read a book by Rachel Toor. An amazing collection of memoirs. In one she talks about running in the NYC marathon even though she was not registered. She was using it as a training run and only running a bit of it. She scoped someone out and ran with her. A mom. Her 1st marathon. Rachel asked her her goal. She encouraged her. She talked her through it. She took off right before the end. She later got a letter from this women who said that as she crossed the line she told her husband an angel had ran with her and gotten her across the line. She had thought she was hallucinating... Her husband told her it wasn't an angel. She wasn't hallucinating. Her angel was real and her husband even had a picture of them running together.

I was praying for an angel. I was wanting Rachel Toor to pop out from behind a tree and get me through.

I was empty.

I wanted to sit down right there.

I had no idea how I was going to do it.

My legs were simply not working.

Then, around mile 11 as I was running along, I tripped on a root. Thankfully, I didn't fall on my face, but I did hear, "are you okay?"

We started talking. Sharing our goals. Mine was slipping away. A 9:12 average pace stared back at me from my watch. Her goal was to average 9:15's. I told her she had it. She could do it. We ran side by side and started up a hill. As I pulled away, I yelled over my shoulder, "come on, you've got this! You can do it!" She slipped away and I pushed on. Determined. Arguing with my body. Telling it it simply HAD to keep going. Talking out loud. I must have been quite a sight. Grimacing. Mumbling. Half-crazed. Praying.

Then, just over a mile to go and I couldn't do it.

I. Just. Couldn't.

I stopped.

I walked.

After a few steps, I heard, "come on girlfriend!! You've got this. Let's go."

My angel.

It was the girl I had just ran a bit with. She was back and she was my angel.

As my body told me no, she told me yes.

As my mind listened to my body, she got louder.

You can do this!

You're almost there!

See that, that's where we're going.

You've got this.

Yes, you can!!

QUIT LOOKING AT YOUR WATCH!!!

We ran in. Through the streets lined with the crowds. All I wanted was to cross that stupid finish line. I pulled ahead a bit and crossed the line. Wheezing. Depleted. Not even caring that I did not meet my goal. Thankful to have crossed the line. Thankful for my angel.

I turned around and she was seconds behind me. We hugged. We cried. She shared. Her Dad had passed the weekend before from cancer. She was running for her Dad. I shared that I run for my brother. We hugged. We cried. God had his arms right there around us.

We parted ways. Julie and Ashley came to encourage me. I could not stop crying. They thought I was upset about my time. I didn't even care. All I knew was that God had answered my prayers. God had gotten me through. God had given me an angel.

I told the girls that if I saw her again, I needed to get a picture with her.

As we stood in a line, there she was. I bee lined. We took pictures. We chatted more.

I was heading back to the hotel room and I heard my name. It was Marcia. Her daughter had ran the race with her and wanted to introduce us. We chatted more and I stood thanking the Lord for my new friend. As we talked, she shared that her brother had ALS. Scoop my jaw off the ground - Cory's mom passed from ALS in 1997. His grandpa passed from ALS when he was in middle school. His aunt in 2001. I stood in awe of God.

She would say we got each other across the line. I don't see it that way. I wanted to quit. I was done. I would not have ran that last 1 point whatever mile. I had nothing left. Disappointed in myself. Disappointed in my body. Defeated.

But, a "come on girlfriend" and an angel is all I needed.

I finished.

2:03:25.

Not my goal.

But, so much more.

Thank you Marcia!

Thank you God!