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My Sage Green Shoesevery day my shoes and I go somewhere 20 July LeavingI am moving my blog over to blogger because it acts nicer with my mac.
My new spot is:
http://sagegreenshoes.blogspot.com
05 July Freedom mileBack in March of this year, I ran my first one mile race in approximately 13 minutes. I thought I would die. I wanted to walk for part of it, but my buddy, Denis, talked me out of it. I made it over the finish line only to burp puke. But I felt good and I knew I would do it again. Now it's five months later and I did my second one mile race on the fourth of July (go America!). I ran with the Grandmasters and Masters, which are the over 40s. I am not over 40, I am one year short of 40, but I wanted to run at 8 a.m. to beat the Louisiana heat. I came in close to last. I think there was a man in his mid eighties who finished after me, but I still count it a victory. I finished my mile in 9:30, which is a significant improvement. I never wanted to walk. I did struggle with the mental aspect of running, the ongoing thoughts of "this is nuts, I'm stiff, my knee hurts, what's my heart rate, my face in on fire, I could be in bed," but I also had a few shy positive voices speak up to say, "keep going, you're a runner now, you are out running on a vacation day." Then I heard my trainer Gloria's voice in my head, "you can do it. What's your heart rate? 179, that's fine for a one mile. You will die, but it won't be today." I saw the clock looming ahead and I kicked it into my high gear, I let out the last of the gas in the tank and beat that 10 minute mark. Denis and my friend Debbie were cheering for me and it means the world to have someone looking for you at the finish line. I ran another mile with Debbie and we can in at 10:16, which was another rocking victory since her first one mile was at 14 minutes. Yeah, we were at the end of the pack, but we ran it and that's pretty damn good. I mean, there weren't that many people up at 6 a.m. on the fourth of July going to run a mile in the hot sun. Denis ran his mile in 7:30. I guess we'll let a Canadian turned American run in our fourth of July race. Now we all have a goal to run a half marathon in December. This means a lot of training and a lot less eating. I am setting a goal to lose 20 pounds by December. Each time I want to give up and eat over my allotted meal plan, I am going to imagine running a marathon with or without a twenty pound backpack. I think the choice will be to ditch the twenty pound backpack. Oh, and the most awesome runner on our recent race day? The unknown guy who finished his mile in like 4:07. 08 June Checking InI have not blogged in forever. What have I been up to? I started running in March of this year and now I am up to 3-4 miles 3-4 times a week. I can't believe it. I started out running for 2 minutes and then resting for 5 minutes. Now I just wish I looked like a jogger. Not all muscle with a few ropy tendons here and there, but more like a girl on the cover of Fitness magazine. Maybe I could if I jogged and ate celery and pickles and drank black coffee. But I LOVE my frozen custard with reeses peanut butter cups mixed in and I have that once a week. And I love pizza. I must have cream in my coffee and cannot live without Godiva chocolate covered marshmallows every other week. I took a fabulous vacation to Rosemary Beach, Florida. Denis and I spent mornings at the beach, ate lunch at the Dog Mandu hot dog stand, read, had ice cream at three o'clock (which is 'ice-cream o'clock' from now on), showered, ate dinner, sat at Starbucks, read, went to bed and got up to do it all over again for a week. On day one, we got locked out on our balcony and Denis had to climb down the roof. It was very heroic. I had a wonderful hot stone massage at Aveeda. Oh, and did I mention that we ran 3 miles 3 times? Now I am off to shower and get ready for church. I am back to the Methodist church. It's what I know. It's not perfect, but it's where I feel comfortable and where I feel the most cared for. And, in the end, isn't that what it's about? 16 February Small World It's been rainy and windy here lately, so I was not surprised last week when I met a stranger in the bathroom at my therapist's office who was soaked through because the wind had snapped her umbrella and rendered it useless. Her hair was done for (though I lied and told her it looked okay) and her pants needed a go in the spin cycle. She was angry at her umbrella, but I don't think you can blame the umbrella. An umbrella in the South on a gusty day is the tool of the optimist. The realist simply resigns himself to getting wet and leaves the umbrella in the car.
Leaving the office, I made an impromptu stop at a Starbucks that I never visit. Yes, I was living, really living! I recognized the employee taking my order as the same guy who had given me a massage about a year ago. We talked, turns out he is a massage therapist who makes coffee at Starbucks too. Then, the barista handed me my decaf skinny mocha and I recognized her as a fellow patient at physical therapy. We talked awhile and I left, pondering the coincidence of knowing both of the Starbucks employees from different times and places.
Arriving at Tire Kingdom, my final destination, I looked up and spotted the still soaked lady from the therapy office. I told her about meeting two acquaintances at the Starbucks and laughed that I was seeing her again on the same day. I told her I was claiming it as a good omen.
10 January Cesar Millan, I love you!We got the nat geo station and I've been watching every single episode of the Dog Whisperer ever since. I DVR the series so I don't miss a single one. Turns out, I have two unbalanced dogs, which I knew before the show. I had tried walking Bandit last year and had to give up in defeat. He could drag me for a block and spit me out. If he saw a cat, I was done for. In a last ditch effort before throwing in the leash, I would get up at 5am to walk him because there was hardly any distracting life form outside at that hour. Even that didn't work, it was hopeless. At least I thought it was hopeless. The Dog Whisperer gave me the crazy notion that I could do this thing. So I did. I proceeded to work on doing this thing. I channeled my calm assertive energy and started up again about a month ago. The results have been amazing. I really do think Bandit appreciates it. To think that, all this time, poor Bandit was calling the shots and he's a mental case. I know that I am a mental case too, but I am a rational mental case, which makes a big difference. Sometimes. Cesar had prepared me for a variety of obstacles that I may encounter. Every time I came across a loose dog (a little yorkie really shouldn't run up to a dog like Bandit but the little dogs don't seem to have a bit of freakin' sense) or a cat, or a jogger, I would say to myself, "this is a great opportunity," relax my hold on the leash and believe that I was up to the challenge. It works! I guess it works in life too, now that I think about it. But tonight, tonight was the icing on the cake. Probably one of the best nights of my life. Definitely a great accomplishment. Denis is out of town and he usually walks one of the dogs while I walk the other and we all four go together. So seven p.m. comes along and the dogs, who are really routine-digging dudes, start getting excited and giving me these 'looks.' I had choices: (1) don't walk them and let them get over it. (2) walk Bandit, come back, drop off Bandit and walk Dingo. (3) walk them together. Yes, I know it's insane, but I felt like I was ready. I put the leashes in my left hand, with the dogs attached to the leashes, and we were off! They walked together so perfectly. I could tell that they were proud of themselves. I had my Mom take a picture of us when we got home. She is not as good with the camera as the dogs are with the leash, but we got a picture. If anyone would have told me that I would one day not only walk Bandit without him pulling, but actually walk him with another dog in the same hand, I would have said, "yeah, right." But, "yeah, right!" 06 January It's 2008Christmas is over. Thank God, the six-foot inflatable Santas are off the lawns. There are a few neighbors who are still blowing them up, even through this first week of the New Year. I would love to stick a pin in every inflatable ever inflated. I don't like them. In the day, they lay around the yards in unrecognizable plastic heaps. At night, some tower in the air but most of them are on their backs, looking helplessly up at the stars.
I am a Christmas lights person. However, I do not have one single Christmas light in my yard. My husband is lazy. I blame him entirely. 10 November Typical Saturday Morning Typical Saturday morning except that I'm here, at my blog, adding an entry. Dingo is in the living room doing something sordid with one of the pillows. Bandit is sitting on the end of the ottoman. He is the only dog I know who actually sits his posterior on an ottoman with his feet dangling below. Denis is at work because they had a problem at the refinery. My Mom is still in bed.
I have only a few solid plans for the day. Work out at the gym, eat lunch at Whole Foods, return items to Target, paint, spend some time getting ready to teach a class tomorrow morning at church, and read. I might pick up three plants to put in my backyard pots, which are currently housing three very dead tenants.
I stopped writing for a few minutes to go to the bathroom. On my way in, I rescued the pillow from any further assault attempts by Dingo. When I came back through the living room, another pillow lay on the floor, obviously another victim. He does have a favorite, but any pillow will do in a pinch.
I was dumped by my doctor last week. I have a non-life threatening, yet annoying, malady that he has tried to cure with every trick in the Merck Manual book. No luck. He told me to research and try some homeopathic remedies. I like his honesty, but it's pretty disconcerting when you finally realize that doctors don't really know that much more than we do these days, especially since the internet. When I was a kid, I thought doctors could fix anything. When I was a kid, I also thought stuffed animals had real feelings. Sometimes I still have a hard time believing otherwise - about the stuffed animals, not the doctors.
I drove by myself to Texas last month and stayed in a cottage bed and breakfast. It was a rather late coming-of-age story for me. Back in my twenties, when I lived in St. Petersburg, Florida, I couldn't drive over the Howard Franklin bridge to Tampa. I couldn't get on the interstate. When I first moved to Texas, I couldn't go to work if it was raining outside and the mere mention of a "flash flood warning" blipped across the t.v. Those were the days when I didn't know I had obsessive-compulsive disorder/anxiety/etc and so I wasn't medicated or in therapy. I simply reacted with fear to every single thing that was out of the ordinary. I still grapple with the fear, but now I am proactive. It's a work in progress. I'll keep you posted.
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