Well, I did it. What started as a crazy idea that Lynne and Simon came up with over three months ago ended in Victory! Over my bum knee, that is. Today all three of us ran (and finished!) our first half marathon (13.1 miles). And it was Fun!
I even beat my time goal by several minutes. It was surprisingly easier than I thought it would be, despite very cold temperatures (41 degrees - ok, cold for California anyway), a night of very little sleep (the latest incarnation of poor little Peter's Neverending Cold comes with a hacking cough), and an early separation from my favorite running buddies due to a poorly timed bathroom stop. My knee, predictably, started with the shooting pain thing at around 10.5 miles, almost exactly where it started hurting on my last run of that distance. It was a little touch and go there for a while, but I pushed through and managed to even speed up a bit for the final half mile. I remain conflicted about whether or not my body is capable of running a full marathon. One thing I am not at all conflicted about is running skirts. I didn't see any of the "elite" female finishers wearing skirts. I was very happy in my tights, thank you very much.
So, now it's 2 weeks of rest and some hard thinking about what, if anything, I want to do Next. The Big Sur marathon is in April. We'll see.
In other news, I forgot to mention one milestone in my last post. The passing of Maude. Martin finally found it in his heart to donate her for scientific experimentation. Might have had something to do with her latest "issues" plus registration fees, which added up to over half of what we originally paid for her. Ah, well. She was a good car. I'm still not giving up on my dreams of having an art car some day. Maybe the Coffee Cat will come to be at some point (a van disguised as a giant cat – complete with speakers broadcasting Pawlene's trade mark "meow" – that visits gloomy suburban office parks to dispense espresso drinks, whimsy, and tasty pastry treats). We'll see.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Milestones
Goodness, there seem to be a lot of milestones to celebrate lately.
First and most important, there was dear Uncle Dave's 75th birthday on Sunday, well celebrated (or so I hear) by his lovely wife and devoted children. You should see him chase Peter around! Pretty impressive for someone with three quarters of a century under his belt. The secret to his longevity must be an abundance of thoughtfulness and generosity – a good heart. Either that or it's all the boudin and other questionable French and Swedish and Chinese treats he has consumed over a lifetime of being an adventurous gourmand. Erika and Peter ate dim sum tonight in his honor. Sadly, it wasn't Yank Sing and much of it landed on the floor.
But there are other, smaller milestones happening right here in the Kosina household! For instance, as of this month we have stayed in one spot (one apartment even!) for a record-breaking TWO years, much to Martin's disappointment. Remember the days when we would move every month or six? Sheesh, I for one am glad that is over. Although I do hear rumors about trying to buy a house before the end of the year. We'll see.
Tonight, Martin attended his FIRST football game. I guess he is a real American now. Go niners!
As of this morning, Erika has run 140 miles in preparation for this Sunday's race. Go Erika!
And Peter has finally started to talk. Go Peter! Here is what he can say:
"giggy" (Kitty)
"caca" (car)
"mama" (more - Yeah, Erika thought he was talking about HER for a long time, but finally realized he was referring to her only in the sense that she provides food and he wants MORE MORE.)
"baba" (daddy - the Czech word for dad is "tata" so we may have Peter's first Czech word here...)
"ball" (ball)
"ba" (banana)
"Hi" (hi)
"shoes" (shoes)
"cheese" (cheese)
"ba bye" (bye bye, accompanied by the opening and closing of his hand, approximating a wave)
"baby" (baby)
"NO" (no)
"nonono" (no no no)
"nononono" (no no no no)
It's pretty cute. I'm sure there is more that I am missing (Erika's MOM understood way more words when she was visiting three months ago; Erika is just slow or Peter has become a lot clearer). I'm still trying to teach him a few phrases in cat like "This is your last warning; Leave me alone right now or I am going to scratch you." but the kid is a little slow so I am trying to be patient with him. Peter has turned into a pretty good petter, at least when mom is watching. And when mom isn't watching, well let's just say I am really getting my exercise, running the length of the hallway and leaping over the child gate into the Forbidden Room. I think I've lost weight.
Oh, speaking of losing weight, Erika wanted me to be sure to give a shout out to Peet's on this post, for bringing back the eggnog lattes as of the first of November! One a week, from now until January 1st. Erika is in heaven.
First and most important, there was dear Uncle Dave's 75th birthday on Sunday, well celebrated (or so I hear) by his lovely wife and devoted children. You should see him chase Peter around! Pretty impressive for someone with three quarters of a century under his belt. The secret to his longevity must be an abundance of thoughtfulness and generosity – a good heart. Either that or it's all the boudin and other questionable French and Swedish and Chinese treats he has consumed over a lifetime of being an adventurous gourmand. Erika and Peter ate dim sum tonight in his honor. Sadly, it wasn't Yank Sing and much of it landed on the floor.
But there are other, smaller milestones happening right here in the Kosina household! For instance, as of this month we have stayed in one spot (one apartment even!) for a record-breaking TWO years, much to Martin's disappointment. Remember the days when we would move every month or six? Sheesh, I for one am glad that is over. Although I do hear rumors about trying to buy a house before the end of the year. We'll see.
Tonight, Martin attended his FIRST football game. I guess he is a real American now. Go niners!
As of this morning, Erika has run 140 miles in preparation for this Sunday's race. Go Erika!
And Peter has finally started to talk. Go Peter! Here is what he can say:
"giggy" (Kitty)
"caca" (car)
"mama" (more - Yeah, Erika thought he was talking about HER for a long time, but finally realized he was referring to her only in the sense that she provides food and he wants MORE MORE.)
"baba" (daddy - the Czech word for dad is "tata" so we may have Peter's first Czech word here...)
"ball" (ball)
"ba" (banana)
"Hi" (hi)
"shoes" (shoes)
"cheese" (cheese)
"ba bye" (bye bye, accompanied by the opening and closing of his hand, approximating a wave)
"baby" (baby)
"NO" (no)
"nonono" (no no no)
"nononono" (no no no no)
It's pretty cute. I'm sure there is more that I am missing (Erika's MOM understood way more words when she was visiting three months ago; Erika is just slow or Peter has become a lot clearer). I'm still trying to teach him a few phrases in cat like "This is your last warning; Leave me alone right now or I am going to scratch you." but the kid is a little slow so I am trying to be patient with him. Peter has turned into a pretty good petter, at least when mom is watching. And when mom isn't watching, well let's just say I am really getting my exercise, running the length of the hallway and leaping over the child gate into the Forbidden Room. I think I've lost weight.
Oh, speaking of losing weight, Erika wanted me to be sure to give a shout out to Peet's on this post, for bringing back the eggnog lattes as of the first of November! One a week, from now until January 1st. Erika is in heaven.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Guest Post from Erika: Best Halloween Ever
As many of you know, I have resisted Halloween for years. This year, however, as Peter is really starting to become aware of the world around him, I figured I couldn't skip out. And so I delved in, if not with gusto, with something close to mild enthusiasm. And you know what? I had the best Halloween ever! Watching Peter trick or treat for the first time was such a crack-up, and I must say his outfit was a big hit. Big thanks to mama Katie for the cool baby tattoos. Mom and Dad even got into the act. Here are some photos...
Peter the Punk Rocker:
Little punk with mama punk:
And papa punk:
It's just part of the costume, really. We never give him beer at home. Oh no, never:
Trick or treating on Cortland street (picture courtesy of Mateus' mom, Beth). He looks one going on about fifteen. That's me in the leopard print, just off screen. See! I really *did* dress up!:
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Here he is with his buddies. They all look a little dazed by the whole experience:
Did I mention he had his first Reeses Peanut Butter Cup? First candy actually. It was a hit, to say the least (duh). Mom had to, uh, confiscate the rest...
The rest of the evening was fun too. We got exactly ONE trick or treater. Well, two, but they came together. I shoveled as much candy as I could into their little bags. The rest is slowly disappearing.
Then we had a proper, UN-Halloween-like interlude, eating Raclette in front of our (gas) fireplace with the windows open because it was actually too warm to have a fire, but we needed something to melt the darned cheese.
Then I succumbed to my one annual viewing of a horror film, Martin's choice. He chose "Pelts". He thinks he chose wisely. I'm still confused about why anyone would willingly subject themselves to watching possessed raccoons take over the minds of furriers to exact their gory revenge, although I could understand the motivation of the raccoons. At least the director was Italian, so the fashion was fabulous and the women were beautiful.
Now. Any suggestions as to what to do with gelatin-based hamburger-shaped "candy"? Again, why do people MAKE this stuff, not to mention consume it?
Anyway, I guess I'm saying I can get into this stuff once a year. For the children. And the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. :-)
Peter the Punk Rocker:
Little punk with mama punk:
And papa punk:
It's just part of the costume, really. We never give him beer at home. Oh no, never:
Trick or treating on Cortland street (picture courtesy of Mateus' mom, Beth). He looks one going on about fifteen. That's me in the leopard print, just off screen. See! I really *did* dress up!:
.jpg)
Here he is with his buddies. They all look a little dazed by the whole experience:
Did I mention he had his first Reeses Peanut Butter Cup? First candy actually. It was a hit, to say the least (duh). Mom had to, uh, confiscate the rest...
The rest of the evening was fun too. We got exactly ONE trick or treater. Well, two, but they came together. I shoveled as much candy as I could into their little bags. The rest is slowly disappearing.
Then we had a proper, UN-Halloween-like interlude, eating Raclette in front of our (gas) fireplace with the windows open because it was actually too warm to have a fire, but we needed something to melt the darned cheese.
Then I succumbed to my one annual viewing of a horror film, Martin's choice. He chose "Pelts". He thinks he chose wisely. I'm still confused about why anyone would willingly subject themselves to watching possessed raccoons take over the minds of furriers to exact their gory revenge, although I could understand the motivation of the raccoons. At least the director was Italian, so the fashion was fabulous and the women were beautiful.
Now. Any suggestions as to what to do with gelatin-based hamburger-shaped "candy"? Again, why do people MAKE this stuff, not to mention consume it?
Anyway, I guess I'm saying I can get into this stuff once a year. For the children. And the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. :-)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
House of Plague
Well it is Day 3 of our quarantine in the House of Plague. Ok, not really The Plague, or even one of those flus that are going around. Just good old fashioned coughing, sneezing, snotty not feeling good. I've been trying to get some extra sleep to counteract all the sneezing. Peter's nose has been dripping like a faucet. Erika has stopped running (!!!).
And well, ok, I guess "quarantine" is a bit dramatic as well. Day One (Monday) we all stayed home, all day long. Except Martin who has managed to avoid this particular illness. He went to work. I think he even rode his bike, the show-off. Tuesday, Erika dragged herself (and Peter) to the grocery store because we were out of bananas, Peter's favorite food. And milk. And a few other critical items. Today they managed to get to the botanical garden for an hour, to alleviate Erika's other sickness: stir craziness. They even skipped the hippie movement class!
They sure were having fun though, before the plague struck them down. Graced by a rare and special visit from Uncle Dave and Beth on Thursday, Erika was inspired to make bourbon banana pudding. She was channeling their adopted town of Williamsburg, Virginia. Friday the Kosinas left for Nevada City, abandoning me for the entire weekend. Apparently they found a house with a sun room that takes over one whole side of the house, so I may forgive them if they ever make up their minds and decide to buy it. Erika ran a hilly 10K race through Nevada City and was extremely pleased with the results (under an hour, yay!). Now if only she could kick this cold and finish training for the REAL race, which is only two and a half weeks away...
So instead of running, she is cooking. Using up random aging vegetables and grains and whatever she finds in the back of the cupboard, in the hopes that these cupboards will need to be cleaned out soon in preparation for a move. Tonight's dinner is butternut squash soup with a number of other random ingredients (barley!), accompanied by the last loaf of bread that she baked and froze months ago, and some persimmon cookies made from LAST year's (frozen) persimmon crop. Mmmmmm, leftovers!
One thing I predict we will have a ton of left over is Halloween candy. Erika had big plans for Halloween this year, but sadly it looks like they are not coming to fruition. We hosted a pumpkin carving party two weekends ago, which turned out to be too early. I watched those jack o lanterns slowly melt into oblivion while the rest of the family was in Nevada City. Biggest mess Erika has cleaned up in months (picture two completely liquified pumpkins seeping into the top drawers of a glass-top desk and soaking all the contents of the drawers). So, there will be no jack o lanterns welcoming trick or treaters on Halloween this year. And I refuse to let Erika paint glowing stuff on my teeth for a Cheshire cat outfit, so this year might be the same as every other Halloween, where Erika and Martin turn out the lights, pretend not to be home, and watch a scary movie. After the toddler party, of course! Peter still gets to dress up and parade around with his buddies. Don't worry, Erika will take pictures.
And well, ok, I guess "quarantine" is a bit dramatic as well. Day One (Monday) we all stayed home, all day long. Except Martin who has managed to avoid this particular illness. He went to work. I think he even rode his bike, the show-off. Tuesday, Erika dragged herself (and Peter) to the grocery store because we were out of bananas, Peter's favorite food. And milk. And a few other critical items. Today they managed to get to the botanical garden for an hour, to alleviate Erika's other sickness: stir craziness. They even skipped the hippie movement class!
They sure were having fun though, before the plague struck them down. Graced by a rare and special visit from Uncle Dave and Beth on Thursday, Erika was inspired to make bourbon banana pudding. She was channeling their adopted town of Williamsburg, Virginia. Friday the Kosinas left for Nevada City, abandoning me for the entire weekend. Apparently they found a house with a sun room that takes over one whole side of the house, so I may forgive them if they ever make up their minds and decide to buy it. Erika ran a hilly 10K race through Nevada City and was extremely pleased with the results (under an hour, yay!). Now if only she could kick this cold and finish training for the REAL race, which is only two and a half weeks away...
So instead of running, she is cooking. Using up random aging vegetables and grains and whatever she finds in the back of the cupboard, in the hopes that these cupboards will need to be cleaned out soon in preparation for a move. Tonight's dinner is butternut squash soup with a number of other random ingredients (barley!), accompanied by the last loaf of bread that she baked and froze months ago, and some persimmon cookies made from LAST year's (frozen) persimmon crop. Mmmmmm, leftovers!
One thing I predict we will have a ton of left over is Halloween candy. Erika had big plans for Halloween this year, but sadly it looks like they are not coming to fruition. We hosted a pumpkin carving party two weekends ago, which turned out to be too early. I watched those jack o lanterns slowly melt into oblivion while the rest of the family was in Nevada City. Biggest mess Erika has cleaned up in months (picture two completely liquified pumpkins seeping into the top drawers of a glass-top desk and soaking all the contents of the drawers). So, there will be no jack o lanterns welcoming trick or treaters on Halloween this year. And I refuse to let Erika paint glowing stuff on my teeth for a Cheshire cat outfit, so this year might be the same as every other Halloween, where Erika and Martin turn out the lights, pretend not to be home, and watch a scary movie. After the toddler party, of course! Peter still gets to dress up and parade around with his buddies. Don't worry, Erika will take pictures.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Guest Post from Erika: Trial and Error
I'll have to wake up that cat one of these days and get her to start writing again, but in the mean time I bring you "trial and error". My life has been all about trial and error lately.
As previously mentioned, I recently signed Peter up for a "music and movement" class and, as previously mentioned, he has been a holy terror in this class. He runs the circumference of the room seeking out weaknesses, he grabs, hugs, kisses, and hits the one smaller boy in the class (most often all of the above in rapid succession), he throws the musical instruments, generally wreaks havoc and does everything except participate in the circle of "jamming" mothers and children.
So, I figured, he needs to expend a little energy before coming to class. I experimented with several pre-class outings: half an hour at the park immediately preceding class (no discernible effect), an hour at the park before lunch, nap, and then class (again, no discernible effect), and finally today, I pulled out the big guns. First, I let him climb by himself all the way down all three sets of stairs and walk BY HIMSELF down to the mailbox on the corner, where we mailed a letter (always thrilling). We then took a BUS ride (Peter's first since he became aware of the exciting magic that he perceives our MUNI system to possess). He was so overwhelmed that he merely sat, paralyzed by the wonders around him, for the entire 30-minute ride. Then we visited the animals at the Randall museum (chickens, rabbits, guinea pigs, frogs, ducks, various birds and squirrels, and a hive of bees). Then we climbed and played outside for a good half an hour. Finally we took another bus back home (this time he shook himself out of his stupor about 5 minutes from the end of the ride and started his usual climbing and standing versus sitting antics). After that, he slept for a good two and a half hours.
Aha! I thought. He'll be worn out for the music class! And he was. He was so worn out, that he refused to participate at all. He clung to me, sat on my lap, and started crying at the drop of a hat. Poor thing was completely exhausted. Next week's experiment: a doctor's appointment in the morning before class. We'll see how that goes...
Besides experimenting on my child, I also have been known to experiment with food. Tonight I substituted a nice piece of Virginia ham for the bacon in a simple pasta recipe (fusilli, corn, zucchini, pesto and bacon/ham). The ham was part of my birthday present from my dear uncle. I actually started off the meal with another part of my birthday present, some real Virginia peanuts! And if you've never had them, you don't know what you are missing. But I digress. The pasta was delicious! And I got to use more of my stockpiled home-made pesto. The first time I made pesto from scratch, I did not own a food processor. I chopped everything by hand, and swore I would never EVER make pesto again. Until I got the food processor, which makes many things so very easy! Like pesto. And salsa. I just discovered how easy salsa is with a food processor. Trial and error. The only thing Pawlene has been experimenting with lately is the most comfortable spot on the bed as the nights get colder.
Martin and I, on the other hand, are still experimenting together with the location of our dream house. The pendulum has now swung BACK to Nevada City, for those of you who have been following this ever more tedious game of table tennis. We found a great house in Petaluma (Penngrove actually) two weekends ago, and even drove back to see it the following Tuesday, but when it came right down to making an offer, we decided to follow our hearts, no matter how much we feel like we SHOULD be following our heads. We know it is ridiculous to move two and a half hours away from Martin's job, but our hearts are in Nevada City. The head vs. heart argument is sure to heat up this month as we travel back up to Nevada City to look at more houses while keeping one eye on the Sonoma County housing market. I think we just need to buy something somewhere and try it out. If it doesn't work, we cut our losses in a few years and try something else. Trial and error. If we don't try it, we'll never know.
In the mean time, it's OCTOBER! Now I am normally not a fan of Halloween, but this is the last year I get to dress Peter up as whatever I want without him having any say in the matter.
Last year he was a pilot:
I think he looks better with the real accessory:
Ok, ok, enough gratuitous old baby pictures. Keeping this big guy in mind (thanks Lynne for the photo!), what should Peter be for Halloween? Anyone have a teeny little cowboy hat and boots I could borrow? Ok, never mind, don't let the photo influence your choice. Polls are now open.
As previously mentioned, I recently signed Peter up for a "music and movement" class and, as previously mentioned, he has been a holy terror in this class. He runs the circumference of the room seeking out weaknesses, he grabs, hugs, kisses, and hits the one smaller boy in the class (most often all of the above in rapid succession), he throws the musical instruments, generally wreaks havoc and does everything except participate in the circle of "jamming" mothers and children.
So, I figured, he needs to expend a little energy before coming to class. I experimented with several pre-class outings: half an hour at the park immediately preceding class (no discernible effect), an hour at the park before lunch, nap, and then class (again, no discernible effect), and finally today, I pulled out the big guns. First, I let him climb by himself all the way down all three sets of stairs and walk BY HIMSELF down to the mailbox on the corner, where we mailed a letter (always thrilling). We then took a BUS ride (Peter's first since he became aware of the exciting magic that he perceives our MUNI system to possess). He was so overwhelmed that he merely sat, paralyzed by the wonders around him, for the entire 30-minute ride. Then we visited the animals at the Randall museum (chickens, rabbits, guinea pigs, frogs, ducks, various birds and squirrels, and a hive of bees). Then we climbed and played outside for a good half an hour. Finally we took another bus back home (this time he shook himself out of his stupor about 5 minutes from the end of the ride and started his usual climbing and standing versus sitting antics). After that, he slept for a good two and a half hours.
Aha! I thought. He'll be worn out for the music class! And he was. He was so worn out, that he refused to participate at all. He clung to me, sat on my lap, and started crying at the drop of a hat. Poor thing was completely exhausted. Next week's experiment: a doctor's appointment in the morning before class. We'll see how that goes...
Besides experimenting on my child, I also have been known to experiment with food. Tonight I substituted a nice piece of Virginia ham for the bacon in a simple pasta recipe (fusilli, corn, zucchini, pesto and bacon/ham). The ham was part of my birthday present from my dear uncle. I actually started off the meal with another part of my birthday present, some real Virginia peanuts! And if you've never had them, you don't know what you are missing. But I digress. The pasta was delicious! And I got to use more of my stockpiled home-made pesto. The first time I made pesto from scratch, I did not own a food processor. I chopped everything by hand, and swore I would never EVER make pesto again. Until I got the food processor, which makes many things so very easy! Like pesto. And salsa. I just discovered how easy salsa is with a food processor. Trial and error. The only thing Pawlene has been experimenting with lately is the most comfortable spot on the bed as the nights get colder.
Martin and I, on the other hand, are still experimenting together with the location of our dream house. The pendulum has now swung BACK to Nevada City, for those of you who have been following this ever more tedious game of table tennis. We found a great house in Petaluma (Penngrove actually) two weekends ago, and even drove back to see it the following Tuesday, but when it came right down to making an offer, we decided to follow our hearts, no matter how much we feel like we SHOULD be following our heads. We know it is ridiculous to move two and a half hours away from Martin's job, but our hearts are in Nevada City. The head vs. heart argument is sure to heat up this month as we travel back up to Nevada City to look at more houses while keeping one eye on the Sonoma County housing market. I think we just need to buy something somewhere and try it out. If it doesn't work, we cut our losses in a few years and try something else. Trial and error. If we don't try it, we'll never know.
In the mean time, it's OCTOBER! Now I am normally not a fan of Halloween, but this is the last year I get to dress Peter up as whatever I want without him having any say in the matter.
Last year he was a pilot:
I think he looks better with the real accessory:
Ok, ok, enough gratuitous old baby pictures. Keeping this big guy in mind (thanks Lynne for the photo!), what should Peter be for Halloween? Anyone have a teeny little cowboy hat and boots I could borrow? Ok, never mind, don't let the photo influence your choice. Polls are now open.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Guest Post from Erika: Running
I went running today for the first time since my 5K race last weekend. It was the best run I've ever had. 4 miles was easy! This is in sharp contrast to the 3 miles I ran last Sunday. Amped up by the crowds around me, I fell prey to my natural competitive instinct and ran the fastest mile I have ever run (8 minutes, I know I know, but I'm slow). Unfortunately that first mile was followed by a 9-minute mile that felt ok, and then a 10-minute mile that I barely dragged myself through. All kinds of thoughts went through my head in that third mile, mostly about how the heck I'd gotten myself into this and why in the world anyone would want to run more than, say, a mile, and how I was never EVER going to be able to run 13.1 miles. (I am training for a half marathon in November.)
My dad, who ran a marathon or two in his running days (younger than I am now!), had sage advice. He told me I just hadn't found my own internal pace yet. I got suckered into running faster than I should by all the hotshots around me. And that I just have to listen to my own body and keep at my own pace, despite all the other, faster bodies flying past me.
Aha! Yet another challenge in the "listening to my intuition" department. For those of you who have been following my experiment of avoiding goals and structure for the past six months in an effort to listen more closely to my intuition, you might know that this particular experiment has been a dismal failure. Well, not an entire failure. I learned a lot of things. I learned that I am a person who requires structure to succeed. I learned that if I do not structure time to listen to my own intuition, to participate in activities that center me and allow me to spontaneously do whatever it is that my heart desires at that particular moment, then all free time will be sucked immediately into the vortex that is motherhood. Whenever I have a free 20 minutes or so, I have to make a choice. Shall I lounge on the couch and catch up on New Yorkers? Shall I make a nice cup of tea and stand on the sunny deck and stare at Sutro Tower? Or, shall I start a load of laundry, a load of dishes, sweep the floor, clean the toilet, prep Peter's next meal? And that's only when Peter is asleep. When he is awake, the decision becomes much easier. I need to spend time with my son, interact with him, teach him words and numbers and colors and good behavior, make sure he isn't climbing on the dining room table.
So, I made a few changes this month, and I am planning a brief retreat this weekend in which I will (gasp!) make some goals for the last 6 months of this year. Goals that will preserve my health and sanity, and goals that will ultimately make me a better mother. Stay tuned.
But back to running, and an entirely different topic: the running skirt. I've been running in the same shorts that I rowed in ever since I started rowing and running (which I did at the same time, thanks to my dear friend Shannon). Rowing requires shorts that are very fitted, with no loose flaps to get caught in the seat tracks. I have recently noticed that most people do not wear this type of shorts to run in. They wear loose, very short, very lightweight shorts that allow a lot of freedom of movement and have a place to stash your keys. I started to reconsider my "compression" shorts (to use an industry term that I also very recently learned). And then I noticed the running skirts.
In fact, a woman I used to row with who I admire very much is a HUGE proponent of running skirts. She ran the Nike Women's marathon wearing a skirt. And she writes professionally for women's sports magazines like Self. So she's tried everything and she knows what she is talking about.
The thing is, I could not think of one single reason why anyone would want to run wearing a skirt! But I figured they must be fantastic, because why else would this woman, who has tried every running product under the sun, choose a skirt to wear to run an entire marathon?
I started to do some research. I googled things like "running skirts advantages" and read a variety of product reviews. And the only thing I could come up with is that the skirt, which hangs over a pair of compression shorts very much like the ones I have been running in for 20 years, covers your butt. In college, women used to tie a sweatshirt around their waists so that they could get some "coverage". We on the crew team called them "hide-a-butts". The running skirt is nothing but a lightweight hide-a-butt!
As I read through old blog posts that this amazing woman (marathoner, awesome rower, hasn't missed a workout in YEARS) had written, my worst suspicions were confirmed. I realized that she has some body image issues. She likes the skirt because it hides her BUTT! I found this disturbing. I've always been too busy worrying about the fat on my stomach to worry about how big my backside is, so I can understand the body image issues. (If only they made a "hide-a-gut"!) But to go so far as to add extra weight during a 26.2-mile race, just so nobody will see how fat your behind is? That's crazy. And besides, anyone who is training for a marathon has no extra fat left. They simply don't have big butts. And if they do, if *I* do, and just have never noticed, then I want to be an inspiration to women with body image issues everywhere. I want them to look at me and say "Wow, if that woman with the big bottom can run 13.1 miles, then so can I!"
Ok, enough about butts. Let's talk about tomatoes. We have been drowning in tomatoes from a tomato CSA that we joined two months ago. Today is marinara sauce day, and I've got to get on it before Peter wakes up.
Peter, who is now seventeen and a half months old, and just had his third hair cut. And who I can hear calling to me right now. Ah, well, at least I got a blog post in...
My dad, who ran a marathon or two in his running days (younger than I am now!), had sage advice. He told me I just hadn't found my own internal pace yet. I got suckered into running faster than I should by all the hotshots around me. And that I just have to listen to my own body and keep at my own pace, despite all the other, faster bodies flying past me.
Aha! Yet another challenge in the "listening to my intuition" department. For those of you who have been following my experiment of avoiding goals and structure for the past six months in an effort to listen more closely to my intuition, you might know that this particular experiment has been a dismal failure. Well, not an entire failure. I learned a lot of things. I learned that I am a person who requires structure to succeed. I learned that if I do not structure time to listen to my own intuition, to participate in activities that center me and allow me to spontaneously do whatever it is that my heart desires at that particular moment, then all free time will be sucked immediately into the vortex that is motherhood. Whenever I have a free 20 minutes or so, I have to make a choice. Shall I lounge on the couch and catch up on New Yorkers? Shall I make a nice cup of tea and stand on the sunny deck and stare at Sutro Tower? Or, shall I start a load of laundry, a load of dishes, sweep the floor, clean the toilet, prep Peter's next meal? And that's only when Peter is asleep. When he is awake, the decision becomes much easier. I need to spend time with my son, interact with him, teach him words and numbers and colors and good behavior, make sure he isn't climbing on the dining room table.
So, I made a few changes this month, and I am planning a brief retreat this weekend in which I will (gasp!) make some goals for the last 6 months of this year. Goals that will preserve my health and sanity, and goals that will ultimately make me a better mother. Stay tuned.
But back to running, and an entirely different topic: the running skirt. I've been running in the same shorts that I rowed in ever since I started rowing and running (which I did at the same time, thanks to my dear friend Shannon). Rowing requires shorts that are very fitted, with no loose flaps to get caught in the seat tracks. I have recently noticed that most people do not wear this type of shorts to run in. They wear loose, very short, very lightweight shorts that allow a lot of freedom of movement and have a place to stash your keys. I started to reconsider my "compression" shorts (to use an industry term that I also very recently learned). And then I noticed the running skirts.
In fact, a woman I used to row with who I admire very much is a HUGE proponent of running skirts. She ran the Nike Women's marathon wearing a skirt. And she writes professionally for women's sports magazines like Self. So she's tried everything and she knows what she is talking about.
The thing is, I could not think of one single reason why anyone would want to run wearing a skirt! But I figured they must be fantastic, because why else would this woman, who has tried every running product under the sun, choose a skirt to wear to run an entire marathon?
I started to do some research. I googled things like "running skirts advantages" and read a variety of product reviews. And the only thing I could come up with is that the skirt, which hangs over a pair of compression shorts very much like the ones I have been running in for 20 years, covers your butt. In college, women used to tie a sweatshirt around their waists so that they could get some "coverage". We on the crew team called them "hide-a-butts". The running skirt is nothing but a lightweight hide-a-butt!
As I read through old blog posts that this amazing woman (marathoner, awesome rower, hasn't missed a workout in YEARS) had written, my worst suspicions were confirmed. I realized that she has some body image issues. She likes the skirt because it hides her BUTT! I found this disturbing. I've always been too busy worrying about the fat on my stomach to worry about how big my backside is, so I can understand the body image issues. (If only they made a "hide-a-gut"!) But to go so far as to add extra weight during a 26.2-mile race, just so nobody will see how fat your behind is? That's crazy. And besides, anyone who is training for a marathon has no extra fat left. They simply don't have big butts. And if they do, if *I* do, and just have never noticed, then I want to be an inspiration to women with body image issues everywhere. I want them to look at me and say "Wow, if that woman with the big bottom can run 13.1 miles, then so can I!"
Ok, enough about butts. Let's talk about tomatoes. We have been drowning in tomatoes from a tomato CSA that we joined two months ago. Today is marinara sauce day, and I've got to get on it before Peter wakes up.
Peter, who is now seventeen and a half months old, and just had his third hair cut. And who I can hear calling to me right now. Ah, well, at least I got a blog post in...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Guest Post from Erika: Why I Don't Miss Living in the Dorms
I came across this blog post today, which made me burst out laughing. My college roommate wars never escalated that far, the worst was when we had a pomelo tree in our back yard, and we would place pomelos in random places where roommates were sure to discover them. That war ended when I put one in my roommate Diane's fancy lingerie drawer, and she didn't find it for a few months.
Actually, now that I think about it, I do have worse stories. There was the time when Gordon put the fake hand holding the butcher knife under my pillow. Or the time when Gordon duct taped a rotting tray full of crepes to Andrea's door. She was keeping them in the refrigerator because they had "sentimental" value. I was fully supportive of that one. Gordon and I used to have punk rock wars too, and play the same exact song on our separate stereos REALLY LOUD, but just a a beat or two off of each other. Very disturbing effect. Ah, college.
In *MY* college days, we didn't have computers and ipods and cell phones to entertain us! We had to communicate the old-fashioned way! In person! Or on the (GASP) SHARED land line! Can you imagine? Sharing a phone line with 3 other women? Man, I must be showing my age. I just wish I could post a photo from my college days, but none of them are digitized because...we used REAL FILM in our cameras in those days. Ok, I'll stop now.
Actually, now that I think about it, I do have worse stories. There was the time when Gordon put the fake hand holding the butcher knife under my pillow. Or the time when Gordon duct taped a rotting tray full of crepes to Andrea's door. She was keeping them in the refrigerator because they had "sentimental" value. I was fully supportive of that one. Gordon and I used to have punk rock wars too, and play the same exact song on our separate stereos REALLY LOUD, but just a a beat or two off of each other. Very disturbing effect. Ah, college.
In *MY* college days, we didn't have computers and ipods and cell phones to entertain us! We had to communicate the old-fashioned way! In person! Or on the (GASP) SHARED land line! Can you imagine? Sharing a phone line with 3 other women? Man, I must be showing my age. I just wish I could post a photo from my college days, but none of them are digitized because...we used REAL FILM in our cameras in those days. Ok, I'll stop now.
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